Here are my random thoughts from the past week. No context, just listing them out.
1. How do you know if someone's your friend? If they know you well enough to call you at 12:30 AM and be there for you even when you insist you're totally fine.
2. Words taste like peaches.
3. Why does anyone buy brand name ANYTHING? From clothes, medicine, household supplies, to even food! No matter how funny the commercial was, there's always a generic product that's just as good for about 50% cheaper. It doesn't make sense.
4. Did you ever notice how you sometimes read a word and suddenly think how ridiculous or weird it looks or sounds like? I couldn't comprehend "Mouth" the other day.
5. Sometimes I think about my life and realize I can't consciously remember when I started doing mature-adult type things that I now do all the time. I never leave a dress shirt untucked anymore. I almost never swear. I've stopped gossiping. I almost never spend money unless its absolutely necessary. I don't feel self conscious about my appearance. I always make a point to say hi to people I know in the halls, no matter how little I know them. I used to never do any of those things. But now I do.
6. Same goes for things like zits. I can't remember when I stopped getting acne. But now I almost never have it, except for the occasional one which pops up as if the Acne-Overlord (name? The Crimson Demon. nickname? Red.) is just proving that he still can give me them if he wants to.
7. The show "Chuck" is probably the most perfect TV show ever. It's funny, has action, suspense, romance. The whole package. Watch it. Glee ain't half bad either.
8. French toast is easier to make then you'd think. Wisk two eggs, a splash of milk, fourth a cup of brown sugar and some nutmeg together. Soak bread. Put on lightly oiled frying pan until brown. Sprinkle powdered sugar. Yum. You can have four slices of French toast ready in less than five minutes. Try it, thank me later.
9. French toast is tasty.
10. When I was 15 I went to Alaska. If you ever go to Alaska, don't you dare take a cruise. Hop from town to town on the local ferries. It is an amazing experience, and I swear to God if you ever find a diner which does not serve literally mouth-watering Halibut Fish N' Chips I will honestly give you my first born child.
I'll probably add more to this later. Adios.
- Justin
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
One Of Those Days...
Hello Blog Followers,
I'm in a spectacularily bad mood now, so I'm not really in a great state of mind to provide an amusing post today. Apologies to you and your extended family. Especially your second cousin, William. We have some serious history.
Anyway here's some music that accurately depicts how I feel. Also some of my favorite songs.
Love you all. Even if it doesnt seem like it. Just a little overwhelmed at the moment.
-- Justin
I'm in a spectacularily bad mood now, so I'm not really in a great state of mind to provide an amusing post today. Apologies to you and your extended family. Especially your second cousin, William. We have some serious history.
Anyway here's some music that accurately depicts how I feel. Also some of my favorite songs.
Love you all. Even if it doesnt seem like it. Just a little overwhelmed at the moment.
-- Justin
Friday, April 16, 2010
You Gotta Be Popular!
What's wrong with high school? Lots of things. But most of all, it's the stupid system of so-called "popularity" that makes even sunshine turn to shit at some point down the assembly line.
In Elementary School, I had no concept of what it meant to be "popular". I knew I had friends, good friends that I very much liked. I knew that everyone pretty much liked me because I was a quiet kid who was polite and kind. I didn't need to know any more. That was enough.
Then came Middle School. I quickly learned that while I still had those good friends, they were no longer good enough. Other kids, including some of my friends, were now Popular. The exact definition of this term seemed to vary, but everyone seemed to agree that those people were, in fact, Popular. I also learned that I, myself, was not Popular.
Why wasn't I? I remember looking in the mirror, frowning with concentration, staring at my every feature, looking for flaws. I wasn't particularly tall or short. I was skinny, but everyone was skinny back then. I wore clothes that everyone else wore. I liked the same music everybody did. I was decent at sports. I made people laugh. So why wasn't I Popular? Or, more to the point, what was wrong with me that prevented me from being Popular?
For this reaches the crux of the problem--when a kid realizes he is not Popular, he does not wonder why he is not, he wonders what is wrong with himself that makes it impossible to be so.
Throughout Middle School, I walked through the halls with this heavy sign around my neck, which I could feel the very weight of bearing down on me whenever I exited the school bus in the morning. UNPOPULAR, it read. It wasn't visible, but I thought it was very real and apparent to everyone, blazoned across my skinny chest. Even in the happiest of my times there, I could feel its burden. A cold metal chain wrapped around my neck like some ever present python, watching, calculating, never letting me forget my inferiority, not for a second.
As I reached High School, I began to gain confidence again. I threw aside my shyness and made new friends. I strengthened ties with friends of old. I allowed myself to be happy for being, well, me.
But the python refused to be shaken off so easily. Again, more of my peers began to be deemed as Popular. I was not one of them. I had heard from my older friends that High School Was Different. But everything seemed very much the same. Even four years later I can't help but notice that while the people have changed, the system remains very much intact.
Now I am in my Senior year of high school. I no longer feel inferior to any others at my school. Why? Because when I was 16 years old, I looked at myself and asked what the point was of defining myself by how Popular I was. I finally began to realize how infernally stupid it was to define myself by a concept that is an integral part of why so many Middle and High schoolers are never truly happy.
It seems to me that many people have simply accepted that, ranging from the ages of 11-18, they will be participants in one huge game of King of the Hill. You played that game when you were a kid, right? Someone finds a pile of dirt, pebbles, or bark mulch and everyone tries to get on top of it. Only, the top is so small that only one person can be King at one time, and within seconds they will be thrown aside by one of the other screaming children scrambling up the the pile from all sides, their eyes gleaming with the invisioned opportunity of being the King, even if just for one second. For most of us, in grades 6 through 12, our life was this game, but played out in hallways and classrooms.
The problem with King of the Hill is that it's an inherently imperfect game. Nobody wins. Even if you do manage to become King, you are ruthlessly thrown to the bottom of the pile soon enough. There are no winners, so everybody feels they are losing. It's hard to imagine why we seem unable to look around and realize that nobody is winning this game. But perhaps that is just human nature. We only imagine ourselves standing atop the pile, reveling in pride, while the masses struggle underneath to match our achievement, and nothing more.
Many, many people I know still hold on to this system as a way of life. They still let the actions of others dictate their happiness. To these people I have this gentle suggestion:
Don't live your life for somebody else. Live your life for yourself.
In Elementary School, I had no concept of what it meant to be "popular". I knew I had friends, good friends that I very much liked. I knew that everyone pretty much liked me because I was a quiet kid who was polite and kind. I didn't need to know any more. That was enough.
Then came Middle School. I quickly learned that while I still had those good friends, they were no longer good enough. Other kids, including some of my friends, were now Popular. The exact definition of this term seemed to vary, but everyone seemed to agree that those people were, in fact, Popular. I also learned that I, myself, was not Popular.
Why wasn't I? I remember looking in the mirror, frowning with concentration, staring at my every feature, looking for flaws. I wasn't particularly tall or short. I was skinny, but everyone was skinny back then. I wore clothes that everyone else wore. I liked the same music everybody did. I was decent at sports. I made people laugh. So why wasn't I Popular? Or, more to the point, what was wrong with me that prevented me from being Popular?
For this reaches the crux of the problem--when a kid realizes he is not Popular, he does not wonder why he is not, he wonders what is wrong with himself that makes it impossible to be so.
Throughout Middle School, I walked through the halls with this heavy sign around my neck, which I could feel the very weight of bearing down on me whenever I exited the school bus in the morning. UNPOPULAR, it read. It wasn't visible, but I thought it was very real and apparent to everyone, blazoned across my skinny chest. Even in the happiest of my times there, I could feel its burden. A cold metal chain wrapped around my neck like some ever present python, watching, calculating, never letting me forget my inferiority, not for a second.
As I reached High School, I began to gain confidence again. I threw aside my shyness and made new friends. I strengthened ties with friends of old. I allowed myself to be happy for being, well, me.
But the python refused to be shaken off so easily. Again, more of my peers began to be deemed as Popular. I was not one of them. I had heard from my older friends that High School Was Different. But everything seemed very much the same. Even four years later I can't help but notice that while the people have changed, the system remains very much intact.
Now I am in my Senior year of high school. I no longer feel inferior to any others at my school. Why? Because when I was 16 years old, I looked at myself and asked what the point was of defining myself by how Popular I was. I finally began to realize how infernally stupid it was to define myself by a concept that is an integral part of why so many Middle and High schoolers are never truly happy.
It seems to me that many people have simply accepted that, ranging from the ages of 11-18, they will be participants in one huge game of King of the Hill. You played that game when you were a kid, right? Someone finds a pile of dirt, pebbles, or bark mulch and everyone tries to get on top of it. Only, the top is so small that only one person can be King at one time, and within seconds they will be thrown aside by one of the other screaming children scrambling up the the pile from all sides, their eyes gleaming with the invisioned opportunity of being the King, even if just for one second. For most of us, in grades 6 through 12, our life was this game, but played out in hallways and classrooms.
The problem with King of the Hill is that it's an inherently imperfect game. Nobody wins. Even if you do manage to become King, you are ruthlessly thrown to the bottom of the pile soon enough. There are no winners, so everybody feels they are losing. It's hard to imagine why we seem unable to look around and realize that nobody is winning this game. But perhaps that is just human nature. We only imagine ourselves standing atop the pile, reveling in pride, while the masses struggle underneath to match our achievement, and nothing more.
Many, many people I know still hold on to this system as a way of life. They still let the actions of others dictate their happiness. To these people I have this gentle suggestion:
Don't live your life for somebody else. Live your life for yourself.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Danger Zone!
I've decided to stop explaining the titles of my posts. Primarily because it's a long process and, while secrets do not make friends, they do make balloon animals.
I have an utterly obscene amount of homework to do, so this will not be a long post. I just wanted to drop in and let the brave people who have stepped forward so far to admit to reading my blog know that I love them dearly for doing so.
However, apparently these people need reminding that, while I have no Facebook account, I will not necessarily post every day. The demands to "write another funny thing" (actual quote, believe it or not), are going to be very sporatically fulfilled. I apologize, but at the same time, what the #$%@ do you expect, I have a life.
Two more things--first off, Jerry Luo of Corvallis, Oregon gave me an excellent suggestion to "vlog", (video-blog, for the Amish among us). Seeing as though I just acquired a Netbook with a built-in WebCam, this is something you will see in the coming weeks. Do not be alarmed.
Secondly, I have recently discovered I am a prodigy when it comes to the delicate and beautiful art of telling knock-knock jokes. Example A.
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Who.
Who Who?
Holy crap, where that'd owl come from?!
Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night.
Okay, time to wrestle with the grease-slicked sumo wrestler that is the metaphor for the homework I will likely not complete. Remember the Alamo, guys!
-- Justin
I have an utterly obscene amount of homework to do, so this will not be a long post. I just wanted to drop in and let the brave people who have stepped forward so far to admit to reading my blog know that I love them dearly for doing so.
However, apparently these people need reminding that, while I have no Facebook account, I will not necessarily post every day. The demands to "write another funny thing" (actual quote, believe it or not), are going to be very sporatically fulfilled. I apologize, but at the same time, what the #$%@ do you expect, I have a life.
Two more things--first off, Jerry Luo of Corvallis, Oregon gave me an excellent suggestion to "vlog", (video-blog, for the Amish among us). Seeing as though I just acquired a Netbook with a built-in WebCam, this is something you will see in the coming weeks. Do not be alarmed.
Secondly, I have recently discovered I am a prodigy when it comes to the delicate and beautiful art of telling knock-knock jokes. Example A.
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Who.
Who Who?
Holy crap, where that'd owl come from?!
Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night.
Okay, time to wrestle with the grease-slicked sumo wrestler that is the metaphor for the homework I will likely not complete. Remember the Alamo, guys!
-- Justin
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Have We Graduated Yet?
Crescent Valley High School is a unique and wonderful place. Not only is it stuffed-to-bursting with some of the brightest minds in the country, but it also boasts an outstanding music program, championship-caliber sports teams, and a total and obscene lack of ethnic diversity. Memories of this school's magical intrinsic beauty is held forever in the hearts of the students lucky enough to attend this prestigious institution.
The notable exceptions being the nearly graduated second-semester Seniors, who can't wait to get the heck out of the place.
Seriously, I can't tell you how many times in the last month I've heard a fellow Senior say, "I'm tired of high school," with an expression of bitter pessimism and woeful discontent upon their face. If I had to give a rough guess of what sort of experience could produce a similarly glum look, I'd say...being forced to watch an entire season of Deal or No Deal in one sitting.
Meet Howie Mandel. He has a soul patch, and he knows where you live.
So the question is, "Why are we all so tired of this school?"
I'm not going to pretend like I have all the answers--Okay, fine, I'm going to pretend like I have all the answers. Egotistical? Yes. But regrettably, blogging does require a certain level of scornful pretentiousness. So sit down and shut up, you ignorant snot-nosed monkey-faced twit, I'm about to lay down some knowledge!
Yes, I'm talking to you. What--you're leaving? No, baby, don't go! I didn't mean it! I was just trying to be funny by--I know it wasn't funny, and I'm sorry! I can change! I--don't you dare close your browser! You close your browser and it's over! Baby, please! We're stronger than this! *click* Nooooo!
...Yeah, not sure what that was. Moving on, here's my list of the pros and the cons of attending Crescent Valley right now as a second-semester senior!
PROS
-- You have more off-blocks than you've ever had--unless you're Eric Fang (see below), who somehow managed to have none this year until recently. Hooray for stereotypes!
-- You count classes such as Outdoor Rec, Creative Writing, Advisor, AP Enviromental Science, etc. as off-blocks. Bonus blocks!
-- Friends are fun to have around. Best friends are pretty awesome. Super best friends come on a little strong. Stalkers are bad news. Stay in school, kids.
-- If you play a varsity sport, you can finally break that heartfelt promise to yourself from four years back and participate in some good ol' fashioned freshman hazing.
-- You now care a lot less about what people think about you, which is good because they don't give a &#$% about you either.
CONS
-- High School is not college.
-- High School consists mostly of people you've known since you were five. Nothing against these people, but you know how you get a new toy for Christmas when you're five and you think it's great and play with it all the time? And then when you're 18 it's not exactly fun to play with anymore? Yeah.
-- We've been in school, going to class for nine months a year for 13 years. Please make it stop.
-- High School is not college.
Well that's it for me. Today, I want each and every one of you to tell your loved ones that they are, in fact, your loved ones. Unless your loved ones don't know who you are, which in case you should probably stop following them around. Howie Mandel doesn't like competition.
-- Justin
The notable exceptions being the nearly graduated second-semester Seniors, who can't wait to get the heck out of the place.
Seriously, I can't tell you how many times in the last month I've heard a fellow Senior say, "I'm tired of high school," with an expression of bitter pessimism and woeful discontent upon their face. If I had to give a rough guess of what sort of experience could produce a similarly glum look, I'd say...being forced to watch an entire season of Deal or No Deal in one sitting.
Meet Howie Mandel. He has a soul patch, and he knows where you live.So the question is, "Why are we all so tired of this school?"
I'm not going to pretend like I have all the answers--Okay, fine, I'm going to pretend like I have all the answers. Egotistical? Yes. But regrettably, blogging does require a certain level of scornful pretentiousness. So sit down and shut up, you ignorant snot-nosed monkey-faced twit, I'm about to lay down some knowledge!
Yes, I'm talking to you. What--you're leaving? No, baby, don't go! I didn't mean it! I was just trying to be funny by--I know it wasn't funny, and I'm sorry! I can change! I--don't you dare close your browser! You close your browser and it's over! Baby, please! We're stronger than this! *click* Nooooo!
...Yeah, not sure what that was. Moving on, here's my list of the pros and the cons of attending Crescent Valley right now as a second-semester senior!
PROS
-- You have more off-blocks than you've ever had--unless you're Eric Fang (see below), who somehow managed to have none this year until recently. Hooray for stereotypes!
-- You count classes such as Outdoor Rec, Creative Writing, Advisor, AP Enviromental Science, etc. as off-blocks. Bonus blocks!
-- Friends are fun to have around. Best friends are pretty awesome. Super best friends come on a little strong. Stalkers are bad news. Stay in school, kids.
-- If you play a varsity sport, you can finally break that heartfelt promise to yourself from four years back and participate in some good ol' fashioned freshman hazing.
-- You now care a lot less about what people think about you, which is good because they don't give a &#$% about you either.
CONS
-- High School is not college.
-- High School consists mostly of people you've known since you were five. Nothing against these people, but you know how you get a new toy for Christmas when you're five and you think it's great and play with it all the time? And then when you're 18 it's not exactly fun to play with anymore? Yeah.
-- We've been in school, going to class for nine months a year for 13 years. Please make it stop.
-- High School is not college.
Well that's it for me. Today, I want each and every one of you to tell your loved ones that they are, in fact, your loved ones. Unless your loved ones don't know who you are, which in case you should probably stop following them around. Howie Mandel doesn't like competition.
-- Justin
You Know What's Exciting?
Pictures, that's what!
Pictures apparently tell a thousand words. What words, exactly? Considering pictures are usually being shoved inside of glass prisons and staked with sharp objects to walls, I doubt they have very much nice to say. And you know how the saying goes--If you don't have anything nice to say, you're probably a frozen image being pierced by a thumbtack.
Wow, that was a terrible series of jokes. I would apologize, but they're average enough that it would be a shame to waste them. Plus they took me a good thirty seconds to write, and time is valuable. Or money. Or both!
Anyway, I was looking over my blog posts and realized they're all text and boring as all get out. What am I missing? Pictures! So here are some pictures. I hope they keep you awake, or at least in a state of semi-consciousness.
This is from the wonderful folks who write the web-comic Cyanide And Happiness. If you have not heard of them, click here to check them out. They are rather crass and downright ridiculous at times, but on a whole it is the best web-comic I have ever found--you will laugh.
You know what's even better than pictures? Moving pictures! Here's a clip I found a few months ago.
Did you see that? Holy crap! To clarify in case you didn't, this random passerby throws his bike at a pair of motorcycle thieves who had just snatched a woman's purse. They spin out and smash their motorcycle, then another bystander tackles one of them and gets the purse back, while the other dirtbag flees. The last couple seconds of the video shows the man giving the purse back to its owner. Great stuff.
That's all for now. Have a great weeked! I'm grounded myself, but do something very exciting so I can live vicariously through you. Which actually sounds pretty creepy, now that I think about it.
-- Justin
Pictures apparently tell a thousand words. What words, exactly? Considering pictures are usually being shoved inside of glass prisons and staked with sharp objects to walls, I doubt they have very much nice to say. And you know how the saying goes--If you don't have anything nice to say, you're probably a frozen image being pierced by a thumbtack.
Wow, that was a terrible series of jokes. I would apologize, but they're average enough that it would be a shame to waste them. Plus they took me a good thirty seconds to write, and time is valuable. Or money. Or both!
Anyway, I was looking over my blog posts and realized they're all text and boring as all get out. What am I missing? Pictures! So here are some pictures. I hope they keep you awake, or at least in a state of semi-consciousness.
This is from the wonderful folks who write the web-comic Cyanide And Happiness. If you have not heard of them, click here to check them out. They are rather crass and downright ridiculous at times, but on a whole it is the best web-comic I have ever found--you will laugh.
You know what's even better than pictures? Moving pictures! Here's a clip I found a few months ago.
Did you see that? Holy crap! To clarify in case you didn't, this random passerby throws his bike at a pair of motorcycle thieves who had just snatched a woman's purse. They spin out and smash their motorcycle, then another bystander tackles one of them and gets the purse back, while the other dirtbag flees. The last couple seconds of the video shows the man giving the purse back to its owner. Great stuff.
That's all for now. Have a great weeked! I'm grounded myself, but do something very exciting so I can live vicariously through you. Which actually sounds pretty creepy, now that I think about it.
-- Justin
Friday, April 9, 2010
Girls! Girls! Girls!
Let's make a bet.
Sit down on your couch. Turn on your television. Watch any hour-long show. At some point, $100 says that there's going to be a female agonizing over the actions of a guy. Well, besides sports programs--except Monday Night Football. You didn't think there was anything between Al Micheals and John Madden? Please. You'd need a chain-saw to cut that sexual tension.
I'd double my Benjamen's with that wager. Why? Because chicks do it all the time, on television and real life. Yes, this is real life. No, you have all five fingers. Get a grip, man. (If you don't get that joke, click here)
The assumption implied by the constant whispering, over analyzing, gossiping, giggling, and general idiocy of females when discussing guys is that the object of potential affection is not engaging in such banter with his own giggily counterparts. The male object's role seems to be to sit around twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the moment in which he realizes, to quote every Romantic Comedy ever, "What He Really Wants Was Right In Front Of Him The Whole Time!" -- This is also a quote from the low-budget comedy "Dog Attempts To Lick Peanut-Butter Off Nose And Looks Ridiculous", but I have a sneaking suspicion the context is different.
Assuming that guys don't delve into such antics would make an ass out of your friend Steve! Of course we do! We just do it differently. But don't worry, we're keeping the true spirit of this complex ritual (stupidity) very much intact in the gender translation.
The next time you hear a guy say these things to another guy, here's what they really mean. Yeah, I realize Cosmo has done this like seventeen thousand times, but I think I can interject a little more high school guy realism into it.
Guy: Dude, she wants me so badly it's insane!
Translation: Dude, I want her to acknowledge me so badly it's insane!
Guy: She said that she really wanted to go out with me but her Grandma died and she has to go to Nevada for her funeral. Also, she is in a really weird place emotionally right now and although I'm a great guy, she doesn't feel like she could do right by me if she was my girlfriend.
Translation: She said no and walked away.
Guy: I am 100% sure that Beth, Amy, and Carly all are into me. Which one should I ask out? Decisions, decisions!
Translation: I am 25% sure that Beth's into me. Amy and Carly have expressed no interest whatsoever. I don't have the balls to ask any of them out. Are you impressed by my studliness yet?
Guy: She is so hot!
Translation: She is so hot!
Guy: Whatever dude, we're just friends.
Translation: The window of opportunity closed and no amount of metaphorical stones can break it open again.
Guy: What are you talking about? I think she's hot.
Translation: She makes me really happy, I have half a mind to punch you.
(What? We're not savages!)
The moral of this rambling post? I don't know. But I do know this--Girls, never underestimate how much you can screw up a guy's head. Because no matter how crass or single-motivated we may portray themselves as, the majority of us do care a lot more than you'll ever know. Just something to keep in mind.
-- Justin
Sit down on your couch. Turn on your television. Watch any hour-long show. At some point, $100 says that there's going to be a female agonizing over the actions of a guy. Well, besides sports programs--except Monday Night Football. You didn't think there was anything between Al Micheals and John Madden? Please. You'd need a chain-saw to cut that sexual tension.
I'd double my Benjamen's with that wager. Why? Because chicks do it all the time, on television and real life. Yes, this is real life. No, you have all five fingers. Get a grip, man. (If you don't get that joke, click here)
The assumption implied by the constant whispering, over analyzing, gossiping, giggling, and general idiocy of females when discussing guys is that the object of potential affection is not engaging in such banter with his own giggily counterparts. The male object's role seems to be to sit around twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the moment in which he realizes, to quote every Romantic Comedy ever, "What He Really Wants Was Right In Front Of Him The Whole Time!" -- This is also a quote from the low-budget comedy "Dog Attempts To Lick Peanut-Butter Off Nose And Looks Ridiculous", but I have a sneaking suspicion the context is different.
Assuming that guys don't delve into such antics would make an ass out of your friend Steve! Of course we do! We just do it differently. But don't worry, we're keeping the true spirit of this complex ritual (stupidity) very much intact in the gender translation.
The next time you hear a guy say these things to another guy, here's what they really mean. Yeah, I realize Cosmo has done this like seventeen thousand times, but I think I can interject a little more high school guy realism into it.
Guy: Dude, she wants me so badly it's insane!
Translation: Dude, I want her to acknowledge me so badly it's insane!
Guy: She said that she really wanted to go out with me but her Grandma died and she has to go to Nevada for her funeral. Also, she is in a really weird place emotionally right now and although I'm a great guy, she doesn't feel like she could do right by me if she was my girlfriend.
Translation: She said no and walked away.
Guy: I am 100% sure that Beth, Amy, and Carly all are into me. Which one should I ask out? Decisions, decisions!
Translation: I am 25% sure that Beth's into me. Amy and Carly have expressed no interest whatsoever. I don't have the balls to ask any of them out. Are you impressed by my studliness yet?
Guy: She is so hot!
Translation: She is so hot!
Guy: Whatever dude, we're just friends.
Translation: The window of opportunity closed and no amount of metaphorical stones can break it open again.
Guy: What are you talking about? I think she's hot.
Translation: She makes me really happy, I have half a mind to punch you.
(What? We're not savages!)
The moral of this rambling post? I don't know. But I do know this--Girls, never underestimate how much you can screw up a guy's head. Because no matter how crass or single-motivated we may portray themselves as, the majority of us do care a lot more than you'll ever know. Just something to keep in mind.
-- Justin
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Tuh-Tuh-Tuh-Tennis!
Yes, the title of this post is styled after the "Chi-chi-chi-CHIA" that Chia Pets made so famous in the series of infomercials broadcasting between 2 and 5 in the morning on the Shopping Channel. If you recognized that reference before I explained...I'll give you a hug tomorrow, because you, my friend, deserve it.
If you're wondering why I watch the Shopping Channel from 2 to 5 AM, frankly, I think the real question is...why don't you?
You probably thought I was going to talk about tennis in this. Haha, silly you. I actually just realized that I'm ridiculously tired from three, 2 hr +, 3 set matches in less than a week. So I'm going to sleep! Hooray for metaphor!
Quick tennis update though, while I have ya here. (Remember when I said I wouldn't prattle on about myself? Ha!)-- Myself and Mr. Evan "Llama Butterfly" Wu are currently undefeated at #1 Doubles in league with four teams left to play. Our last three match scores--
SILVERTON 6-7, 7-6, 6-2
CHS 5-7, 7-6, 6-3
SOUTH ALBANY 6-7, 6-4, 6-4
Wow, when you put them on paper like that...yikes.
Anyway, I'm sleeping now. Here's a shout out to all the kids in the audience today--If you want to learn something very interesting, make Evan explain how "67" makes more sense than "69".
-- Justin
If you're wondering why I watch the Shopping Channel from 2 to 5 AM, frankly, I think the real question is...why don't you?
You probably thought I was going to talk about tennis in this. Haha, silly you. I actually just realized that I'm ridiculously tired from three, 2 hr +, 3 set matches in less than a week. So I'm going to sleep! Hooray for metaphor!
Quick tennis update though, while I have ya here. (Remember when I said I wouldn't prattle on about myself? Ha!)-- Myself and Mr. Evan "Llama Butterfly" Wu are currently undefeated at #1 Doubles in league with four teams left to play. Our last three match scores--
SILVERTON 6-7, 7-6, 6-2
CHS 5-7, 7-6, 6-3
SOUTH ALBANY 6-7, 6-4, 6-4
Wow, when you put them on paper like that...yikes.
Anyway, I'm sleeping now. Here's a shout out to all the kids in the audience today--If you want to learn something very interesting, make Evan explain how "67" makes more sense than "69".
-- Justin
Life Without Facebook.
It just occurred to me that to some people, the title of this post would be a paradox. Who says AP English has no real-life applications? Not this guy!
Anyway, I decided to stop using Facebook about three days back. Maybe more. It's hard to keep track when your life is spinning out of control...!
Okay, not really. I decided to deactivate my Facebook account primarily because of how freakin' well it had programmed me to do its bidding. If you use Facebook, do you ever find yourself getting on your computer, opening the browser, and automatically opening up Facebook? I came home one day with literally a dozen missing assignments and plopped down in front of my computer. Two hours later, I was stalking the profile of a friend of a friend of a random dude who I once saw in the hall. I really wish I was kidding.
Although I do thoroughly enjoy learning new things about the estranged friends of people I don't know (this fellow played competitive racquetball!), it was becoming very apparent that I needed to make a list of the pros and cons of Facebook.
PROS
- Never forget someones birthday
- Do I actually have 562 friends? Facebook says so!
- Virtual farming, mutha@#$*er!
CONS
- Wasting hours of life doing pointless things for no particular reason
- Not passing classes
- Failing school
- Not going to college
- Where are you assistant manager at? McDonalds? Oh.
So after consulting this list, I decided to pull the plug on my Facebook account for good, or until my resolve crumbles (any day now!). So far, I've been ridiculously productive. And I've only forgotten one of my friend's birthdays! Sorry, Anna!
- Justin
Anyway, I decided to stop using Facebook about three days back. Maybe more. It's hard to keep track when your life is spinning out of control...!
Okay, not really. I decided to deactivate my Facebook account primarily because of how freakin' well it had programmed me to do its bidding. If you use Facebook, do you ever find yourself getting on your computer, opening the browser, and automatically opening up Facebook? I came home one day with literally a dozen missing assignments and plopped down in front of my computer. Two hours later, I was stalking the profile of a friend of a friend of a random dude who I once saw in the hall. I really wish I was kidding.
Although I do thoroughly enjoy learning new things about the estranged friends of people I don't know (this fellow played competitive racquetball!), it was becoming very apparent that I needed to make a list of the pros and cons of Facebook.
PROS
- Never forget someones birthday
- Do I actually have 562 friends? Facebook says so!
- Virtual farming, mutha@#$*er!
CONS
- Wasting hours of life doing pointless things for no particular reason
- Not passing classes
- Failing school
- Not going to college
- Where are you assistant manager at? McDonalds? Oh.
So after consulting this list, I decided to pull the plug on my Facebook account for good, or until my resolve crumbles (any day now!). So far, I've been ridiculously productive. And I've only forgotten one of my friend's birthdays! Sorry, Anna!
- Justin
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Yep, I'm Blogging.
I'm not a big fan of blogs. More often than not, they're written by people with God-complexes or poor grammar. Surprisingly, you don't often run across bloggers who possess both a God complex and poor grammatical skills. Mastery of SpellCheck seems to be a prerequisite to having an enormous ego.
I've always wanted to write a blog. I like writing. I think that, given the right circumstances, I can be pretty insightful on topics such as life, fate, social justice, and NCAA Basketball tournaments. Yes, basketball. Hey, don't mean to brag but...I did win my bracket pool. So I'm sort of a big deal.
Basically, the purpose of this blog isn't to prattle on about my life. It's to prattle on about things that you care very little about. But hey, that's the world of blogging for you. If you can't beat 'em...oh I don't know, something clever. I'm going to sleep.
--Justin
I've always wanted to write a blog. I like writing. I think that, given the right circumstances, I can be pretty insightful on topics such as life, fate, social justice, and NCAA Basketball tournaments. Yes, basketball. Hey, don't mean to brag but...I did win my bracket pool. So I'm sort of a big deal.
Basically, the purpose of this blog isn't to prattle on about my life. It's to prattle on about things that you care very little about. But hey, that's the world of blogging for you. If you can't beat 'em...oh I don't know, something clever. I'm going to sleep.
--Justin
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