Silly, Random, Funny Blog

I was recently reminded that I haven't done a silly, random, or funny blog recently. My first thought is: This steak is good. Then I stop eating and think: Why am I eating a steak underwater? Then I come out my delusional world and think: Maybe a silly, random, funny blog is in order.

Quickly, I look at the list of shipments, and no, a silly, random, or funny blog is not in order, but out of order! I just asked for it yesterday, but it says that I asked for it ten years ago. I wasn't even typing sentences ten years ago. I didn't even had a computer that used the internet 10 years ago. However, I could beat my teacher in chess.

Ah, chess. It's so close to the word cheese. Ah, cheese. Cheese grated on a pizza, stuck between noodles in lasanga, melted on a plate after someone took my place full of grated cheese, put it in the microwave, and then set the timer for 3 minutes. Why must you be so cruel?! That cheese was just coming into the world, and you had to cruelly burn it!

I'll... I'll be fine. Really. Just need to wipe the tears from my eyes. Oh? Why are there tears in my eyes? Well, it's a long story but... Hey! They're after me lucky charms!

Chapter Something: Coding Contest (Part 1)

He arrives at the school after a silent and uneventful ride, involving much random conversation. Upon disembarking from his traveling container, resembling a boxcar only smaller, he grabs the bag filled with pop and candy from the back, emerging in the Resurrection parking lot, filled with hope. Quickly, he dons his sunglasses to create an air of superiority, and also hoping that he can intimidate the competition. However, this is rapidly destroyed when he encounters Susie, a good friend from UCEP, and hugs her.

"Come on" she encourages.
"I can't," he replies, looking behind him. "I've got to stay with them."
"Oh, ok."
He looks around, and inquires, "Where's Amber?"
"She's over there," Susie says, pointing inside the doors. "Didn't want to stand out in the cold."

Travis's mind sets upon the door and what he decided to do a few days ago. With many people watching his move, he broadly opens the door, approaches Amber, and utters those few words.

"Live long, and prosper."

Unfortunately, her response is less than satisfactory as she seems more shocked than anything else. A teacher behind him laughs uneasily at what he did, and the rest of the coding team enter the school together. Due to habit, he removes his sunglasses and hat, as a sign of respect. The two coding teams from St. David's enter together, discussing random things, ranging from how to be more intimidating to the uses of duct tape, while we are being escorted to the cafeteria of Resurrection.

His own cafeteria keeps being shown that it pales in comparison to all others. Their dining area is clean, with microwaves that are less than a decade old, and everything looking pristine, quite unlike the one back at the school he just departed less than a half hour previous. A quick glance reveals that their lighting system is also superior in some respects.

After the introduction between the room and Travis are made, he offers his assistance to bring in pop and refreshments for the other coders and himself. Food has been promised in a few minutes, and they all eagerly await its arrival. In the meantime, other teams enter the arena and strut their stuff, including the fashionable pencil-behind-the-ear look, and the ever-popular eat-pizza-and-glare-at-the-other-teams-because-we're-all-about-the-intimidation.

Ah, Childhood

Do you remember being young and innocent? Your whole world was your neighborhood. You knew that there was a friend just a few doors down, ready to play when you were. Your mind was full of dreams to be an astronaut, a veterinarian, a knight, a princess, and so many other things. Every day was full of discovery, and you always had fun. Whether it was playing baseball on the street until sunset, having a tea party with your dolls, or just watching the clouds go by, each day was well spent.

Now? Now we had school taking up time, jobs to get paid, and a myriad of responsibilities on our shoulders. If we had these things when we were five, we'd be overwhelmed. But that's the unfortunate thing with time and age. We become able to handle more, and thus we get more responsibility. And I hate it.

What about the day off? I remember days when my parents would tell me in kindergarten that today I wasn't going to school, but instead we were going to a museum. Or just out to a park for a picnic that day. Those days were always the sweetest for me. School was something of a bore but still fun, yet being out in nature playing when I was supposed to be working was always a great experience.

And then I got a conscience. I matured and ate the forbidden fruit. Now I feel guilty when I skip homework in favour of having fun. I've been saddled with the burdens of helping people with their problems, the world has shown me its darker side with people starving, and my old, blissful neighbourhood appears more ragged around the edges than I remember.

Looking back I wish I could relive the blissful parts of my youth. Seeing the beauty in a bird flying around my yard. Watching leaves fall off the trees for hours. Being able to play in the same backyard for months on end and yet still finding new things about it every day. Testing your limits every day by running, jumping, and doing whatever you can.

But the thing I miss most is not caring what people think. When you were young, you did whatever you wanted, not caring what people thought. If you saw a fence, you climbed it. You saw someone you liked, you ran up and hugged them. Being told that something was a bad thing, you had to test out if it really was.

There were also no stereotypes. Sure girls acted more one way and boys acted another, but there was still overlap. If you wanted to skip, then you went right ahead. Want to play baseball? Well, if you got a mitt and could throw a ball, you could play. There were no races, ethnicities, or barriers. You were just the kid down the street who I was friends with.

Now we have racism instilled in us by our parents and society, all these new stereotypes put on us, and we lose the simplicity that the world was when we were just 5. Our parents are no longer these magical people who can solve every problem we have but turn out to be mortals like ourselves. The world has lost its magic. We no longer think that births are so amazing, and a summer rain loses its allure, because now we know how it all happens.

Well, I don't care. I'm not giving in without a fight. So don't be surprised if you see me staring up at clouds, skipping places, or singing to myself. I'll go for walks at 11 PM when I feel like it. I won't listen to my parents saying "Eating all those sweets is bad for you!" I'll ignore all social conventions. I'm not supposed to drink out of the hose? Too bad! These leaves are filled with bugs? I'm still jumping in them! Yes, this candy just fell in the dirt, but it’s still tasty.

Want to join me in reclaiming my lost bliss? It's not hard. Phone me up one day and we'll skip through the woods together, or just watch the clouds roll by. But, before you hastily do so, listen to the following song: http://www.jcbsong.co.uk/jcbvideo.asp If you can relate, then it's time to come out and play with me. Remember, I'm only a few doors down, ready to play whenever you are.

Deltitnu

Subtly. How subtle show one be? It's a hard call to make. If you're too subtle, then people may not notice the hidden meaning. However, not being subtle enough leads to too many people knowing about it. And in order to be truly witty, you have to know how subtle you should be.

Take my bad jokes. Please! In every joke you have to take a leap of faith. Look at the following joke:
Halley was a strange girl, and would only comment on blogs every 70 years. And thus, it was rare to see Halley's comment.

Now I, the joke teller (and a bad one at that) hope that you'll make the connection between Halley's comment and Halley's Comet, which also comes around every 70 years. If you don't make the connection, then the joke fails and you end up looking like and idiot. Not like you didn't already.

The problem is if you remove the subtly element completely, then the joke becomes obvious and is no longer funny:
Did you hear about the piece of wood, or board, that had nothing to do? He was a bored board! Get it? He's a board and he's bored!

But if you make the joke too subtle, then there's the chance that no one gets it:
Rekniht-drawrof a ton m'I!

Any idea what I said there and why it's funny?

So this is my point. Jokes are good, and don't be upset if your joke misses its mark. It just wasn't sharp enough. Or your audience wasn't.

Friends and Family of the Bride and Groom Are Invited On This Momentous Occasion

This may sound niave to many of you, but I’ve never had much of a distinction between friends and family. And a recent article I read helped to bring that to my attention. Sure, we have family thrust upon us, but friends are something we choose; we may not choose well. Now having said that, I treat my friends as family. Perhaps not all of them as imidiate family, granted, but as family nonetheless.

For example, some of my best friends I consider brothers and sisters in my life. They may not always make the best decisions, but hey, they’re still family to me. I’ll be there to help them through a tough time, and I know that they’ll do the same. Other friends of mine are more cousinly in nature. We may not see each other often, and we may not know everything about each other, but we’re still there for one another when we need it, and we still have a good time when we can get together.

Finally, there are second-cousins. These are the people in my life who I see every once in a while, we rarely talk as a casual nod in the hallway is fine enough for us, but I’ll still be there for them if they need it. I may not know that their dog just died, and they don’t know that I was sick for a week, but we know that the other person is there to help us get by with things, if the need arises.

Yet everyone I’m friends with, are a part of my family. That’s why I’m almost thinking about adopting a few of you when I’m older, and I’ve moved out on my own. If it’s legal, and you’re still my friend, I’ll be willing to adopt you as a relative, even if it’s only honorary. Family looks after its own, after all. And that’s what I do for my friends.

Hell, while blood is thicker than water, love is thicker than blood. Let solidify our relationship and show the more naive people on this planet how we feel. Sure, maybe it’s utopian in feel, but I’ve always been an idealist. So don’t hesitate; join into the family.

Just comment and I’ll let you in. Who knows who you’ll end up related to. Time shall tell.

Round 3: FIGHT!

I wake up this morning to my alarm clock playing the Beatles. I'm still sick, and thus, am not pleased as it is 6 AM and I didn't sleep well. So Paul, John, and the rest of the Beatles, I apologize, but I needed to vent my anger in someway. I guess I shouldn't have had such a violent dialogue with you this morning.

Alarm Clock: "I want to hold your hand! I want to hold your hand!"
Me: "Is it alright if you hold my fist instead!?!"

Repeat for 10 more minutes. Then I get up, not pleased with my rude awakening, and head upstairs. My mother asks "Are you going to have a bagel this morning?" She then looks over. "Something wrong?" I simply reply, with force "I hate my alarm clock."

The night previous was not good. I took a nap from 5 to 8 PM, and then had supper when I awoke. I started to feel tired again at 10, but I didn't take the hint. I wish I had in hindsight. It was after that I started to feel nauseous and began to get a temperature to boot. And it also messed up my sleep cycle, as it was after 1 AM that I finally fell asleep.

Now for most people who know me, I like to get outside. But with the temperature peaking just below the freezing point of water, that's not the best thing to do. So I'm chained to my bed, stricken with this ailment, with nothing to keep me company spare my massive Sudoku and my Chemistry text book. Just what I need. More nerd points.

Which reminds me. I was called a nerd by one of my friends who is also a nerd. That tells you something right there. And the reason is legitimate. I memorized a song that tells me the first 50 digits of pi. Each word in the song has the corresponding number of letters as that digit of pi.

So the first word in the song is 3 letters long, then second is 1, the 3rd has 4, 4th has 1, etc.

Man, I Can't, I Shan't, Formulate An Anthem Where The Words Comprise Mnemonics, Dreaded Mnemonics For Pi. The Numerals, Just Bother Me, Always. Even The Dry, Interior. Try To Request Something Lower (Zero) In Numerary Aptitude. Even I, Pantaloon Gallons, I Cannot Actualize The Requested Mnemonics. The Leading Fifty I *Buzz*
3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751

The song can be found here: Pi Song

Well, I'm off to drown my sorrows in a few gallons of Dihydrogen Monoxide. Cheers!

Sick, But Not As Sick As A Certain Quadruped Mammal Whom Has Befriended An Entire Gender

Doggone it! Day 2 in my home ridden existence, and I still feel sub par. It's not because of the winter here finally being winter, or due to the fact that I chose against getting injected with a mixture of chicken embryos, live flu virus, formaldehyde, ether, detergent, and mercury. (You can see a great take on the flu shot here (Windows Media Player) and here (QuickTime).) No, the source of my current fate is a completely unrelated thing to those two, and its simplicity may baffle a few: I have the flu. Yes, it's true. I have a virus that's working its way through me as we speak.

Now, how is one to combat a foe which is smaller than most enemies? It's not easy. Luckily, I can delegate the task to my immune system. But, like a worker's union, the white blood cells comprising my work force won't work for free, or without benefits. Thus, in order to wage this war, I need to meet there demands, which include: Increased rest periods, more food during the day, higher temperature for increased productivity, and a highly saturated workplace.

And if I wish to have an army in order to defeat this villainous virus, then I should try my best to meet there demands. The first I achieved last night, when I went for a nap at 6, and woke up 3 hours later. However, this decreased their food intake, which had to be quickly rectified and was. I've also bundled myself up in numerous layers to satisfy the third demand. And the fourth may be over satisfied, as I'm taking in more than twice the "8 glasses a day" expectation.

Is it paying off? Currently I'm being irritated by a cut I have on my right shoulder from using my cat as a scarf yesterday. (No ma'am. I only wear real fur.) So I'm not fully concentrating on my symptoms and if they are improving. But if my pounding head is any indication, either my cat's on my head (And no, he isn't) or I'm still not well completely.

And if we happen to talk online today, or for as long as I have this great disease, then please spare me your pity and I'll spare you a rendition of what I'm experiencing currently. That, and accept my horrible grammar and spelling. I am far from operating within establish parameters, and the last thing I need is someone going "Anymore and any more, depending on where you look, can have up to three different interpretations." and then continuing into the proper uses of each.

I bid you farewell. And perhaps I should stop doing this 25x25 sudoku. Probably isn't helping my head.

And here's a song/rap on Vitamin C for all my homies. http://www.archivestowearpantsto.com/tracks/0119_vitamin_c.mp3