| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | |
| 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |
| 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
| 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 |
| 28 | 29 | 30 |
Phillip:sdfxcghjMe:alkjshdgahweihasdvPhillip:NO!Me:>:[Fight me!Phillip:>.<NO!Me:Awww!!! He's so cuteeee.And yeah.Fight me.Phillip:ILL SLIT UR THROATWITH A BUTTER KNIFEMe:I'll castrate you mofo...Phillip:GO AHEAD AND TRYu wont get near itCUASE ILL KILL UMe:Mhmm. Sureeee. I'm irresistible. Besides, I know where you live. I'll get you in your sleep.Phillip:i dont sleepim noctrualMe:Which means you do sleep.. during the day.Phillip:no i dont sleep EVERMe:So then why'd you say you were nocturnal? Liar. But either way... I'm a fucking ninja. I'll win.Phillip:u cant outninja meMe:Pfft. Bitch, it's already been done.Phillip:tis impossiableMe:Mhmm. You just don't want to admit to yourself that you lost.You got beat. By a girl.Shame.Phillip:NO!NIGGA ILL CAP UMe:So now you're sexist? Bitch... we be fightin'.Phillip:u dont understand, u cant kill a TUFF GHOSTIM ALREADY DEAD BITCH!=]Me:I'm a goddamn zombie. I've been to hell and back. Aint no ghost gonna stop me.Phillip:pshhh u can hit somthing thats invisablezombies r solid im notIM PLASMAMe:I'm a fucking ninja zombie... in case you forgot. I can do anything better than you.Phillip:pshhhMe:Okay. You doubt me. But you'll see when you become castrated.Phillip:GOOD LUCKMe:I don't need it. It's already been done. Dun dun DUNNNNN!!!!!!!Phillip:NO U HAVENT ITS STILL THERE TRUST ME I CHECK EVERYTIME I PEEMe:Did you just pee within the last two seconds or something??Phillip:=]Me:I hope you went to the toilet instead of just peeing your pants.Or taking it out and peeing right there.Ewww. I just thought of... ewwww.Phillip:I DIDNT EVEN PEEhaMe:Nice. So you're just randomly playing with it while talking to me. This makes me feel really comfortable.Phillip:NOeww nono no noi just know its my man abilitys to know if its therewe just knowMe:Mhmm. Just admit you're playing with yourself.Phillip:NOMe:Okay then. Don't admit it. But I know the truth.Phillip:omgso i see u like my commentMe:I almost died from laughter.It's hard to believe, ya know?Phillip:>:[
Posted at 02:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
And this is why sometimes, I really hate sleeping:
I was a medical student at some dark, ominous school. The place where the cadavers are prepared was in the basement, along with the actual class that handles them. (And by class, I mean the dissection. There ARE other uses for cadavers; weird experiments for body transplants, crash dummies, etc.)
I was downstairs with the teacher / doctor. There was a cadaver with a beating heart lying on the table. (Yes, they DO exist). It was male, white, dark hair, scruffy face, and chest hair. A white sheet covered his manly bits, since they were unnecessary for this lesson. I was the only one downstairs with the doctor. We were in a secluded room, branched off from the actual "classroom". I had to stick a giant needle in him to stop his heart, without causing him to bleed to death or harm any of his main arteries. I remember the teacher saying that it had to be in his neck, but I did not listen. I tried stabbing it in his heart. I figured "Well, if it's closer to the destination, it'll move the process along a lot faster." Unfortunately, me being the giant klutz that I am, stabbed it in the wrong spot (mind you, the needle was also a foot long) and caused this poor cadaver to start bleeding to death.
At this point, the dream starts to become a bit hazy; I don't quite remember the transformation between the "classroom" and my house.
I walked into my house and yelled, "My GOD work was exhausting today. I killed a man." Nothing to be proud of, but I was. I walked down the hallway and into my bedroom to get changed. The time was very late but the sun was still shining. I slipped underneath my pink and green plaid comforter and started thinking about the day. All of a sudden, I hear my voice talking to me, but it wasn't in my head, or so I thought it wasn't. I looked over in my mirror and I saw myself standing in it, talking to me. I was saying how I was going to die because of all the horrible things I have done and so on. Me, thinking I'm just hallucinating from lack of sleep and working really hard, starts arguing with my mirror self. To prove a point, my mirror self killed my human self. But then my dream "rewound" itself. (It was really just my mirror self giving my human self another chance to put up a fight before I die.)
The mirror self was taunting my human self, saying how I meant nothing and that I (my mirror self) will be doing all mankind a favor by erasing me from the planet so I (human self) couldn't become a doctor. So, once again, I'm baffled and in shock, still denying the fact that this mirror self me is killing my human self me, without even being in the room. (It was kind of like that movie "Mirrors" except... better.) Well, history repeats itself, right? So did this, except this time, my mirror self broke the mirror. It wasn't like my mirror self broke it from inside of the mirror, though. It was as if I broke it, but I didn't, or so my human self thought. (I honestly have no idea whether or not I was a crazy person and just imagined that my mirror self broke the mirror while it was really me, or if there really were two of me. At this point, I would assume crazy person.)
Once again, my dream "rewound" itself. I was alive, once again, in bed, looking at my mirror. Only this time was slightly different. I did not have a mirror. Instead, there was cardboard in the same shape as my mirror was. Mirror pieces were everywhere on my dresser and floor. Obviously these occurrences continued from where they left off, except I had my life. I decided this time I was going to stand up and brave it out. It seems as if my mirror self was gone, considering I had no mirror. Unfortunately, I was proven wrong in a matter of seconds. I felt a sharp piece of glass cut through my elbow joint. It was in one side, and out the other. Painful, obviously. I was a screaming mess while curled up in a ball on the floor. This time, I noticed that I could see my mirror self's reflection anywhere that, well, showed a reflection. Shortly after I figured this out, I was dead... again.
My life was restored. I immediately jumped out of bed, knowing that something was going to happen, and grabbed the stake on the bottom of my umbrella. As I went to sit back in my bed, I kept my eyes on my TV, window, and alarm clock face. With my umbrella stake in hand and the help of the reflections, I was sure that things were going to be okay. I was wrong. I fought, and fought hard. I injured whatever this thing was, but it was also strange to be stabbing and swinging at air. At times, I would almost talk myself into the entire thing being fake, until I saw a reflection of this thing attacking me. I was killed, again, and for the last time. However, I wasn't dead. At least I didn't think I was dead. I was in the "locked-in state" (See "Locked-In State"). I was yelling and screaming for someone to help me, that this thing was going to do more damage to me. This thing carried me to my bed, and set me down gently. Remember the mirror pieces everywhere? Obviously they show reflection. Before this thing left, I noticed that I was not fighting myself anymore. Instead, it was a little boy. He seemed so familiar but I could not place where I knew him from. I still cannot.
Self conflict?
Posted at 04:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
From my last post, it is clear that I started reading the Satanic Bible not only out of curiosity but to also start the search of finding out what I am. And for that reason, I can say fully that I am NOT a Satanist. I read 77 pages, out of 272, before I started disagreeing with what they believed.
First of all, I do agree that you should see yourself as a great human, as something wonderful... something divine within you. You are your own "God". I also agree with their idea on love and hate. If someone is rude to you, you return the rudeness. If someone is kind and loving, you return that. I also agree that you should not do things to intentionally hurt, or harm, other people.
However, when it got to the part about the difference between the "weak" and "powerful", I started to disagree. I am not one to be repulsed by someone that is "weak". I do not believe that all of the money and wealth should go to the "powerful". From my interpretation of the Satanic Bible, it reads to me as if you are criticizing people that are not like you, that do not have as much talent as you, that aren't as wealthy as you. People face different challenges and I think "weak" and "powerful" can only be determined on what they have been through, how they have dealt with it, and their reactions to those situations.
I do not fully disagree with their views on sex, but they do not suit me well. They are about free love. They think if you want sex, you go get it. You do what pleases yourself, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone around you. I do believe that people should have a choice but I don't think that if you have the urge to have sex with someone, you should act upon it. There should be a stable building block between the two people, first. Then, by all means, have a blast. As long as no one gets hurt.
Since I no longer need to finish the Satanic Bible, since I know that I am not a Satanist, I will be moving along to A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle.
Posted at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)
New reading material:
Posted at 07:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
What is your most unusual nighttime ritual?
I've been afraid of the dark since I was a little girl. I still am afraid of the dark. If I decide that I'm going to sleep in the dark that night, I have to make sure that I have the ability to get to my bed without walking throughout my room in complete darkness. I've been doing this weird ritual for as long as I can remember. The ritual goes as follows:
I must have my TV and my lamp turned on. If one is on and the other is not, then I will remedy that situation and turn the other on. First, I will turn off my lamp, leaving the TV on. The TV channel will be set to a preferable channel, such as Nickelodeon or something like that because there are hardly ever any dark commercials. That channel is always fairly lit. Next, I will crawl into my bed, with the TV remote. Reason for this is I have a strange fear that while I'm standing in front of my bed in the dark, I feel as if something (that I know logically isn't there) will reach its hand out from under the bed and grab my ankles. Crazy, I know. Thirdly, I will turn off the TV. Now, I am in complete darkness. Even then I am a little freaked out. So, finally, I throw the blanket up above my head for a decent amount of time in order for my eyes to get used to a darker place. Under my blanket darkness does not freak me out only because I know that there is nothing else under there with me. If there was, the blanket would be lifted in all sorts of strange ways.
Once that ritual is done, I will either remove the blanket, for now I can make out objects in my room better. (I tend not to look around too much if I do choose to do this option. Even though I can now see better, it's still the dark. Who knows what might pop out at you?) Sometimes, I fall asleep with the blanket over my head, so seeing in the dark is not an issue.
Posted at 08:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
This is one of my favorite sections of Napalm & Silly Putty by George Carlin. It has to do with, well, death.
"Dying to Stay Alive
You're all going to die. I hate to remind you, but it is on your schedule. It probably won't happen when you'd like; generally, it's an inconvenience. For instance, you might have your stamp collection spread out on the dining room table.
[Ominous music]
"Now?"
"Now."
"May I at least put away my commemoratives?"
"No."
Inconvenient.
Nobody wants to die. Nobody. Well, maybe Evel Knievel, but most other people don't like the idea. It doesn't seem like an enjoyable thing. People figure if being sick is no fun, dying must really be a bother. After all, part of the pleasure of being alive is the knowledge that you're not dead yet.
And when you get right down to it, people don't mind being dead, it's getting dead that bothers them. No one wants to get dead. But we're all gonna do it. Death is one of the few things that are truly democratic-- everybody gets it once. But only once. That's what makes us nervous. No rehearsals.
Ticket to Nowhere
And actually, I think people should look forward to death. After all, it's our next big adventure. At last we're going to find out where we go. Isn't that what we've all been wondering? Where we go?
"Where do we go?"
"I don't know."
"We must go somewhere."
"True."
"Phil says he knows."
"I know he does. But take my word, Phil doesn't know."
Where do we go? Maybe it's nowhere; that would be interesting. On the one hand, you'd be nowhere, but on the other hand, you wouldn't know it. So at least you'd have something to think about. Or not.
Personally, I think we go wherever we think we're going to go. What you think is what you get. Have you ever heard one of those guys who says, "Don't even bother prayin' for me, I'm goin' straight to hell; I'm goin' to hell to be with all my friends"? Well, he is. He's going to hell, and he'll be with all his friends. What you think is what you get. If you keep saying you're going to heaven, chances are you'll get there. But don't look for any of your friends.
In my own case, I expect I'll be going to a public toilet in Honduras. And by the way, should you be interested, I can tell you on good authority that when Monty Hall dies he will be spending a lot of time behind door number three.
Death: The Show
Posted at 07:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
I walked out into the kitchen not too long ago and saw a box of Rice Krispies sitting on the counter. My brain, since it has it memorized from front to back (page numbers included), immediately went to the section about Rice Krispies in Napalm & Silly Putty by George Carlin. Here's the section:
"I had an interesting morning; I got into an argument with my Rice Krispies. I distinctly heard, "Snap, crackle, fuck you!" I'm not sure which one of them said it; I was reaching for the artificial sweetener at the time and not looking directly into the bowl. But I heard it and I said, "Well, you can all just sit right there in the milk as far as I'm concerned until I find out which one of you said it." Mass punishment. The idea is to turn them against one another.
Silly me. Big punishment! That's what Rice Krispies do. Sit in the milk. That's their job. You've seen them. Delicate, beige blisters of air, floating proudly in the milk. And you can't sink them. They refuse to sink. The navy ought to use Rice Krispies in life preservers. That's where they're really needed.
And do you know how Rice Krispies manage to float for such a long time? By clinging to one another; they buddy up. They gather in little groups of eight, ten, or sometimes twelve, but if you've noticed it's always an even number. That's because the electromagnetic polarity of the Krispies attracts them to one another. It binds them into pairs, like subatomic particles. They form little colonies, and you can't sink them, not even with a spoon. They just come bobbing up over the sides of the spoon, laughing at you and reveling in their buoyancy. Hard to sink.
That's what the fruit is for. Not for added taste; not for nutrition; it's for sinking the Rice Krispies. Believe me, a good-sized peach, hurled at the bowl full force from a stepladder, can take down eighty or ninety of the little buggers in one glorious splash.
And I have absolutely no mercy. If I'm really pissed, I'll climb up to the upstairs balcony and drop a watermelon on them. That'll teach them to sass me at breakfast."
Posted at 05:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
Do you remember your dreams?
Yes, I do remember my dreams. Sometimes all too clearly. Other times, it's just a vague concept of what the dream was about. However, I usually only remember the bad dreams. Why? I have no idea. I would prefer to remember the happy ones. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't.
Posted at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Tom Felton, also known as Draco Malfoy, is not only a brilliant actor. He is also an amazing artist. I just bought his album "In Good Hands" from ITunes. It was possibly the most well spent six dollars of my life. One song that has been stuck in my head for the short time I've had this album would be "When Angels Come". Amazing lyrics.
Posted at 10:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)