Have not posted for many a day.
In honor of using this site during English class to take a more modern approach to class discussion, I've decided to rediscover this blog and start using it. However, as I usually blog on a certain site for about a month before getting tired of it, we'll just see how long this lasts. I have a LiveJournal, a Tumblr, a Facebook...and I had a Myspace that I blogged on until I deleted that.
WE'LL JUST SEE WHAT HAPPENS OKAY.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
I Fail At Life And Posting Consistently.
I have no excuses for you.
I apologize for not posting. Wah.
Ahem! There is a possibility that I might be switching to Tumblr, because it is more small-post/on-the-go post oriented, so I would be able to post more.
It's only a possibility at this point, though, so don't start crying yet (if you were going to cry at all); I'm testing it out. So far I LOVE IT. Shhh, don't tell the Blogspot people that I'm a traitor.
Please don't tar and feather me.
Also, the URL is the same. justusninjas.tumblr.com.
I am very tired, but I just wanted to tell you I'm not dead. So here is a picture from our recent vacation to my new favorite place in the world...NEW YORK FREAKING CITY.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "It's not a dream anymore."
Title: Looking Up.
Artist: Paramore.
P.S: Don't worry, I'm not turning drama queen (today), it's just that this time happens to be one of those times where you get a song stuck in your head but you don't know all the words so you just hear ONE LINE over and over in your head and it's TERRIBLE. This is that line. I wonder if it's an omen.
I apologize for not posting. Wah.
Ahem! There is a possibility that I might be switching to Tumblr, because it is more small-post/on-the-go post oriented, so I would be able to post more.
It's only a possibility at this point, though, so don't start crying yet (if you were going to cry at all); I'm testing it out. So far I LOVE IT. Shhh, don't tell the Blogspot people that I'm a traitor.
Please don't tar and feather me.
Also, the URL is the same. justusninjas.tumblr.com.
I am very tired, but I just wanted to tell you I'm not dead. So here is a picture from our recent vacation to my new favorite place in the world...NEW YORK FREAKING CITY.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "It's not a dream anymore."
Title: Looking Up.
Artist: Paramore.
P.S: Don't worry, I'm not turning drama queen (today), it's just that this time happens to be one of those times where you get a song stuck in your head but you don't know all the words so you just hear ONE LINE over and over in your head and it's TERRIBLE. This is that line. I wonder if it's an omen.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Did You Know Summer Doesn't Officially Begin Until Mid-June?
It's really quite weird.
So, in honor of summer not quite being here but still providing the lovely hot and humid weather we all adore so much, I devised a summery topic specifically summery enough for summer purposes.
Here it is. A list. A list of...
THE TYPES OF TANS.
And the people who get them.
Type A: The Pale Ones. These poor dears...they can lather and slather on the sunscreen, but they will still get burnt. Their stark-white, sometimes freckled skin turns lobstery, and, in extreme cases, blisters and peels like old parchment. And, after they are burnt, they will not tan, no matter how much they want to. They might turn light brown. Or gray. But it will fade.
Type B: The Farmers. We call them the farmers because of their Farmer's tans. Sometimes the Pale Ones get these kind of tans, too, where they burn RIGHT around the outline of whatever they're wearing. They get terrible tanlines that refuse to go away. Sometimes, they will even tan AROUND spots they missed with sunscreen, resulting in a blotchy, uneven tan/burn that resembling a spray tan that was applied by a flying monkey with A.D.H.D and rabies.
Type C: The Lifeguards. Ever seen Baywatch? I haven't. But I believe it includes lifeguards running a lot in slow motion and they're all tan and gorgeous. Or so I've heard. Anyway, that's why we call these people the lifeguards. They spend a bunch of time outside, and they don't burn. They might burn a LITTLE, but mostly they just turn this gorgeous, lightly sunbaked color of brown that makes you wonder why they get to be Amazonians and you don't. Their tanlines BLEND into each other, so they look natural and unspoiled by silly whitespots. Only the crazy-dramatic tanlines show, like shoe tans or if they wear one-pieces all summer. These people don't lose their tans. They only fade a little, so by the time summer comes around again, they just add on layers and layers of TAN SKIN. Us mere mortals try to get this effect by wearing tank tops and strapless shirts, but nothing works. They are gods and goddesses.
Type D: True Amazonians. They stay tan all year round, or they're part of The Lifeguards and they go to Florida for Christmas break. Curse them.
Type E: Reptiles. These people either work outside or fake-bake. They are so exposed to the sun that their skin develops a leathery quality, like that of a turtle or crocodile. They look much darker than normal. This is only a good thing if you turn this color without the leathery quality, which is only possible if you are a Californian surfer boy with blond hair bleached by the sun or a Barbie doll. Both are unlikely.
Type F: The people that are so tan they're pale. I haven't witnessed this yet, but it happened in a Spongebob episode, so it MUST be possible.
Happy Sunbathing!
Please wear sunscreen. The lobster look only works for the lobsters.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your popsicle."
Title: California Girls.
Artist; Katy Perry.
^^^I LOVE this song. I don't know why.
So, in honor of summer not quite being here but still providing the lovely hot and humid weather we all adore so much, I devised a summery topic specifically summery enough for summer purposes.
Here it is. A list. A list of...
THE TYPES OF TANS.
And the people who get them.
Type A: The Pale Ones. These poor dears...they can lather and slather on the sunscreen, but they will still get burnt. Their stark-white, sometimes freckled skin turns lobstery, and, in extreme cases, blisters and peels like old parchment. And, after they are burnt, they will not tan, no matter how much they want to. They might turn light brown. Or gray. But it will fade.
Type B: The Farmers. We call them the farmers because of their Farmer's tans. Sometimes the Pale Ones get these kind of tans, too, where they burn RIGHT around the outline of whatever they're wearing. They get terrible tanlines that refuse to go away. Sometimes, they will even tan AROUND spots they missed with sunscreen, resulting in a blotchy, uneven tan/burn that resembling a spray tan that was applied by a flying monkey with A.D.H.D and rabies.
Type C: The Lifeguards. Ever seen Baywatch? I haven't. But I believe it includes lifeguards running a lot in slow motion and they're all tan and gorgeous. Or so I've heard. Anyway, that's why we call these people the lifeguards. They spend a bunch of time outside, and they don't burn. They might burn a LITTLE, but mostly they just turn this gorgeous, lightly sunbaked color of brown that makes you wonder why they get to be Amazonians and you don't. Their tanlines BLEND into each other, so they look natural and unspoiled by silly whitespots. Only the crazy-dramatic tanlines show, like shoe tans or if they wear one-pieces all summer. These people don't lose their tans. They only fade a little, so by the time summer comes around again, they just add on layers and layers of TAN SKIN. Us mere mortals try to get this effect by wearing tank tops and strapless shirts, but nothing works. They are gods and goddesses.
Type D: True Amazonians. They stay tan all year round, or they're part of The Lifeguards and they go to Florida for Christmas break. Curse them.
Type E: Reptiles. These people either work outside or fake-bake. They are so exposed to the sun that their skin develops a leathery quality, like that of a turtle or crocodile. They look much darker than normal. This is only a good thing if you turn this color without the leathery quality, which is only possible if you are a Californian surfer boy with blond hair bleached by the sun or a Barbie doll. Both are unlikely.
Type F: The people that are so tan they're pale. I haven't witnessed this yet, but it happened in a Spongebob episode, so it MUST be possible.
Happy Sunbathing!
Please wear sunscreen. The lobster look only works for the lobsters.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your popsicle."
Title: California Girls.
Artist; Katy Perry.
^^^I LOVE this song. I don't know why.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I Feel All Summery And Stuff.
I wish I lived in Glee.
That show is so ADDICTING. It's like a soap opera for teenagers. You sit there and you watch it and all you wanna do is lean closer to the television so that you might fall into their world and join in their swirling dramedy. It's all so perfect and structured, and you know every time it falls apart it'll fall back together, because if it STAYED apart, the fans would, of course, freak out and all kill themselves.
And let's not forget...the music. It's aaaall about the music. Even though I'm not sure if they had great voices and were THEN processed or if they're actually that awesome (unlikely), they always pick the songs that fit the moment PERFECTLY and they're always songs that make you sit up and scream melodramatically,
"I LOVE THIS SONG!"
Then you get on iTunes and spend all your money downloading it so you can blast it in your room and pretend you ARE a part of Glee, and yes...you ARE that awesome.
And yes...
Your life IS a musical and you CAN sing whenever you want to by yelling,
"BRAD! B-flat."
Yes.
Oh, don't we all wish we were more than just geeky teenagers watching Glee on the Internet over and over, salivating over each and every one of those perfect people singing our favorite songs much better than we ever could?
"BRAD!...He's always just...there."
-Rachel
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Words can't bring me down."
Title: Beautiful.
Artist: Christina Aguilera.
^^^This song is WAAAAY overused. I've heard it remade twice, JUST tonight.
That show is so ADDICTING. It's like a soap opera for teenagers. You sit there and you watch it and all you wanna do is lean closer to the television so that you might fall into their world and join in their swirling dramedy. It's all so perfect and structured, and you know every time it falls apart it'll fall back together, because if it STAYED apart, the fans would, of course, freak out and all kill themselves.
And let's not forget...the music. It's aaaall about the music. Even though I'm not sure if they had great voices and were THEN processed or if they're actually that awesome (unlikely), they always pick the songs that fit the moment PERFECTLY and they're always songs that make you sit up and scream melodramatically,
"I LOVE THIS SONG!"
Then you get on iTunes and spend all your money downloading it so you can blast it in your room and pretend you ARE a part of Glee, and yes...you ARE that awesome.
And yes...
Your life IS a musical and you CAN sing whenever you want to by yelling,
"BRAD! B-flat."
Yes.
Oh, don't we all wish we were more than just geeky teenagers watching Glee on the Internet over and over, salivating over each and every one of those perfect people singing our favorite songs much better than we ever could?
"BRAD!...He's always just...there."
-Rachel
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Words can't bring me down."
Title: Beautiful.
Artist: Christina Aguilera.
^^^This song is WAAAAY overused. I've heard it remade twice, JUST tonight.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Adventurous Adventures Are Always Adventurous.
So, school is almost over. I feel very young saying that, especially since I'll be a sophomore next year. Starting high school...it's kinda like walking into a bar after you've just turned twenty-one (assuming you've followed the laws and not had any alcohol and are therefore the best son or daughter EVER). Then you look around and you see that guy that's been there since nine that morning, passed out on the floor...that couple that's eyeing each other across the room--a one-night-stand waiting to happen....that social drunk guy that always gets up in everybody's business and starts talking to strangers and will probably puke on your shoe sometime in the night...and all those teenagers with fake I.Ds dancing with their beers near the bar, head banging and not noticing when they spill beer down each other's shirts.
It's all very overwhelming.
Okay, so maybe it's not EXACTLY like that...
Anyway, you feel old and all grown-up and stuff when you start high school. That is, until you see anybody else besides your freshman buddies. Y'know? You're like...God, I can't even DRIVE yet. Except for that one chick that turned fifteen during the summer...lucky bitch.
And then you're a sophomore and you act all arrogant and try to control the "stupid freshman." Then suddenly you're a junior and then a senior and then they take a poker thingie and usher you out of the school like sheep (and cows, and pigs, and hippopatimuseseses), and you have to make it on your own and you become a poor college student.
Yaaay, freedom...
OKAY. We had an adventure in school today! This IS an adventure to me.
You all remember tornado drills, yes? Get in the hallway or locker room, duck and cover. Well, the sirens went off, and we were all grumbly and "Grr, I don't wanna sit on the concrete, it's only first hour and I'm tired."
Then, the principal guy says: "This is not a drill. Repeat, this is NOT a drill."
Oh my.
Freakout.
Well, all of us in the band hallway didn't freak out THAT much. We just put our heads against the wall and took it in stride. It was vaguely frightening when people started trekking in from the outdoors, absolutely SOAKED.
But we wasted twenty minutes of class in the hallway just chatting with our friends while ducking and covering and playing hand games after we were allowed to sit up. I guess we all figured, hey, we're in a concrete building and if we die, we'll be with friends.
Also, I found THIS scratched inside a bathroom stall today:
"Gatekeeper, the seasons wait for your nod,
Gatekeeper, you hold your breath and winter goes on and on."
I tried all day to figure out what it was.
I finally did.
It's a quote from a song by Feist, called Gatekeeper.
...Next to the quote, somebody else had scratched, "WTF???"
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: (See above).
Title: Gatekeeper.
Artist; Feist.
I have no idea what it means. But I like it.
It's all very overwhelming.
Okay, so maybe it's not EXACTLY like that...
Anyway, you feel old and all grown-up and stuff when you start high school. That is, until you see anybody else besides your freshman buddies. Y'know? You're like...God, I can't even DRIVE yet. Except for that one chick that turned fifteen during the summer...lucky bitch.
And then you're a sophomore and you act all arrogant and try to control the "stupid freshman." Then suddenly you're a junior and then a senior and then they take a poker thingie and usher you out of the school like sheep (and cows, and pigs, and hippopatimuseseses), and you have to make it on your own and you become a poor college student.
Yaaay, freedom...
OKAY. We had an adventure in school today! This IS an adventure to me.
You all remember tornado drills, yes? Get in the hallway or locker room, duck and cover. Well, the sirens went off, and we were all grumbly and "Grr, I don't wanna sit on the concrete, it's only first hour and I'm tired."
Then, the principal guy says: "This is not a drill. Repeat, this is NOT a drill."
Oh my.
Freakout.
Well, all of us in the band hallway didn't freak out THAT much. We just put our heads against the wall and took it in stride. It was vaguely frightening when people started trekking in from the outdoors, absolutely SOAKED.
But we wasted twenty minutes of class in the hallway just chatting with our friends while ducking and covering and playing hand games after we were allowed to sit up. I guess we all figured, hey, we're in a concrete building and if we die, we'll be with friends.
Also, I found THIS scratched inside a bathroom stall today:
"Gatekeeper, the seasons wait for your nod,
Gatekeeper, you hold your breath and winter goes on and on."
I tried all day to figure out what it was.
I finally did.
It's a quote from a song by Feist, called Gatekeeper.
...Next to the quote, somebody else had scratched, "WTF???"
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: (See above).
Title: Gatekeeper.
Artist; Feist.
I have no idea what it means. But I like it.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
I Promise, I Wasn't Kidnapped.
I know you all are terribly worried because I was gone for over a week, but the truth is, I am very busy and I use my free time to sleep.
Also, I'm lying.
It takes a shocking amount of effort to write a blog post, because, being a young blogger, I feel this excessive need to please people, and I my vocabulary is perhaps not ginormous enough to suit your needs.
DID YOU KNOW...ginormous has been added to the dictionary? This is NOT a lie. It's completely true and AWESOME. So, the next time somebody tells you, "Ginormous isn't a wooooord." Then you can say, "Bitch, it IS. Look it up. OHHH, WHAT NOW?!?! WEBSTER SCHOOLED YOU. IN THE FACE."
Say it just like that. They'll think you're cool.
Guess where I was on Saturday? A COLLEGE CAMPUS. Oh, yes. For State music contest, we went to the Mizzou campus. I won't describe the whole thing to you, because it may bore you, but it was GORGEOUS, and they have this giant chapel thing in the middle that just screams, "TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!!!" (I did). Then, out of nowhere, while my friends and I were walking to get food, our innocent eyes untainted by anything naked (except for me since I was mooned those two weeks ago...oh, how I was scarred...), some frat boys came running by wearing only...
Girls' underwear and sneakers.
Their hair was shaved so that only a little strip was left in the middle of their heads.
And their friends were driving next to them screaming and cheering them on.
There was also a rather...large...guy involved in all this running.
Remember that scene in Juno where she's talking about the guys while they run? Watch it. You'll understand...it was like that.
It was horrible and also AWESOME, but I don't know why. It was one of those things that makes you go..."Wow, college is going to be interesting."
It also makes you blush and giggle. Or, if you're like the girls standing about ten feet away from me, it makes you squeal and scream "I LOVE YOU!", causing one of the bolder boys to run over and hand her some piece of paper with what I think was an advertisement on it, and giving us a much closer view of some things you really don't wanna see when you're standing next to your boyfriend, or, really, when you're standing next to ANYBODY.
Run-on sentences For The Win.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "It takes a crane to build a crane."
Title; Life Is Wonderful.
Artist; Jason Mraz.
Also, I'm lying.
It takes a shocking amount of effort to write a blog post, because, being a young blogger, I feel this excessive need to please people, and I my vocabulary is perhaps not ginormous enough to suit your needs.
DID YOU KNOW...ginormous has been added to the dictionary? This is NOT a lie. It's completely true and AWESOME. So, the next time somebody tells you, "Ginormous isn't a wooooord." Then you can say, "Bitch, it IS. Look it up. OHHH, WHAT NOW?!?! WEBSTER SCHOOLED YOU. IN THE FACE."
Say it just like that. They'll think you're cool.
Guess where I was on Saturday? A COLLEGE CAMPUS. Oh, yes. For State music contest, we went to the Mizzou campus. I won't describe the whole thing to you, because it may bore you, but it was GORGEOUS, and they have this giant chapel thing in the middle that just screams, "TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!!!" (I did). Then, out of nowhere, while my friends and I were walking to get food, our innocent eyes untainted by anything naked (except for me since I was mooned those two weeks ago...oh, how I was scarred...), some frat boys came running by wearing only...
Girls' underwear and sneakers.
Their hair was shaved so that only a little strip was left in the middle of their heads.
And their friends were driving next to them screaming and cheering them on.
There was also a rather...large...guy involved in all this running.
Remember that scene in Juno where she's talking about the guys while they run? Watch it. You'll understand...it was like that.
It was horrible and also AWESOME, but I don't know why. It was one of those things that makes you go..."Wow, college is going to be interesting."
It also makes you blush and giggle. Or, if you're like the girls standing about ten feet away from me, it makes you squeal and scream "I LOVE YOU!", causing one of the bolder boys to run over and hand her some piece of paper with what I think was an advertisement on it, and giving us a much closer view of some things you really don't wanna see when you're standing next to your boyfriend, or, really, when you're standing next to ANYBODY.
Run-on sentences For The Win.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "It takes a crane to build a crane."
Title; Life Is Wonderful.
Artist; Jason Mraz.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Bad Things.
Today we will talk about bad things.
Things that are...BAD.
I am going to make a list of some things that are bad, to warn you of them.
1. Paper Cuts.
Simply, these things SUCK. It's kind of like somebody planted a tiny little bomb in this piece of paper and the second it touched your finger, it EXPLODED. That's exactly what it's like. It's that feeling you get when you run your nails across a chalkboard or scrape a fork against a plate, that feeling that makes you wanna grind your teeth together and cringe until your neck breaks.
2. Zombies.
Zombies=Dead people that have come back to life. Nobody knows exactly how it's done. They vary between wanting flesh and brains. They don't die very easily. Sometimes you can kill them with fire, but not always. IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE KIND OF ZOMBIE. This is partially what makes them so dangerous. You can't tell what they'll do next. But it IS for sure that they'll lumber around and go "Urrrr...."
How To Fight Them: Since you don't know how to fight them, due to difference in species...RUN LIKE HELL. Got it?
3. The "We Need To Talk" Talk.
Parents, boyfriend, girlfriends, friends, teachers, and people close to you will generally say this when You Two Need To Talk. Now, this could either be dangerous or not. It depends on their tone. Listen for the tone. If the tone sounds low and ominous and doesn't change pitch much: "WE NEED TO TALK." It's probably going to be bad, or the person is just in a hurry. There is no way to combat this. You will avoid it and avoid it and avoid it as much as you can, but you won't be able to put it off forever. Just get it over with. Or go to Wal-Mart, buy lots of comfort food in case it's really bad news, and THEN get it over with.
4. Catching Your Ass On Fire.
I'm pretty sure that explains itself.
But it's not a good idea.
5. Bad Hair Days.
Pretty much the apocalypse in itself. Bad hair days are omens. They tell you that the rest of your day is going to be just as awful as your hair.
6. Having To Spell Weird Words Like "Pneumonia" And"Diarrhea" In Public.
And then your grandfather, who made you spell these words in the first place, decides it's also a good time to quiz you on whether or not you remember that tongue twister he taught you in first grade..."Theophalus Thistle, The Successful Thistle-Sifter."
Trust me.
To be continued....
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Welcome, misfits, orphans all/the ones who feel they don't belong/you were made to rock/so stand up tall."
Title: Rock What You Got.
Artist: Superchick.
Things that are...BAD.
I am going to make a list of some things that are bad, to warn you of them.
1. Paper Cuts.
Simply, these things SUCK. It's kind of like somebody planted a tiny little bomb in this piece of paper and the second it touched your finger, it EXPLODED. That's exactly what it's like. It's that feeling you get when you run your nails across a chalkboard or scrape a fork against a plate, that feeling that makes you wanna grind your teeth together and cringe until your neck breaks.
2. Zombies.
Zombies=Dead people that have come back to life. Nobody knows exactly how it's done. They vary between wanting flesh and brains. They don't die very easily. Sometimes you can kill them with fire, but not always. IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE KIND OF ZOMBIE. This is partially what makes them so dangerous. You can't tell what they'll do next. But it IS for sure that they'll lumber around and go "Urrrr...."
How To Fight Them: Since you don't know how to fight them, due to difference in species...RUN LIKE HELL. Got it?
3. The "We Need To Talk" Talk.
Parents, boyfriend, girlfriends, friends, teachers, and people close to you will generally say this when You Two Need To Talk. Now, this could either be dangerous or not. It depends on their tone. Listen for the tone. If the tone sounds low and ominous and doesn't change pitch much: "WE NEED TO TALK." It's probably going to be bad, or the person is just in a hurry. There is no way to combat this. You will avoid it and avoid it and avoid it as much as you can, but you won't be able to put it off forever. Just get it over with. Or go to Wal-Mart, buy lots of comfort food in case it's really bad news, and THEN get it over with.
4. Catching Your Ass On Fire.
I'm pretty sure that explains itself.
But it's not a good idea.
5. Bad Hair Days.
Pretty much the apocalypse in itself. Bad hair days are omens. They tell you that the rest of your day is going to be just as awful as your hair.
6. Having To Spell Weird Words Like "Pneumonia" And"Diarrhea" In Public.
And then your grandfather, who made you spell these words in the first place, decides it's also a good time to quiz you on whether or not you remember that tongue twister he taught you in first grade..."Theophalus Thistle, The Successful Thistle-Sifter."
Trust me.
To be continued....
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "Welcome, misfits, orphans all/the ones who feel they don't belong/you were made to rock/so stand up tall."
Title: Rock What You Got.
Artist: Superchick.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Bubbles Are Pretty Much Awesome.
The Mission: Get a picture of a bubble.
Once Completed, The Mission II: Get a picture of my brother looking through a bubble.
The Participants: Me, Nathan (my brother), Jenna (my sister), three bubble wands of various colors, my epically awesome Canon camera. It's my baby.
Now, first off, bubbles are COOL. You know how excited the caveman guy that discovered bubbles probably was when he was washing himself in his primitive washtub and suddenly, a primitive bubble floated out of his primitive soap, a shining, clean, rainbow swirly beacon of hope for our race! He probably rushed out of his bathtub and ran to tell all his caveman buddies, but when they went to see it, it had already popped and they were like, "Marvin, put your loincloth back on." He probably worked his caveman hiney off trying to recreate this bubble. And when he finally did, everyone agreed he was just too good for loincloths.
Of course, my camera isn't as high speed as I'd like it to be (I'm a cheap teenager without a job, okay? Cut me some slack, man), but I think I did pretty well in the art of bubble-photographing. It's totally an art, by the way. You have to be awesome and run around like a maniac after these bubbles trying to get the lens to focus on it. Ordinary people don't do that. Only those of us that are certifiably insane can truly succeed at this.
THE END PRODUCT:
BEHOLD. The first good picture of a bubble.
LOOK, IT'S POPPING ON HIS NOSE!
Well, he was really happy about SOMETHING.
TRIUMPH!
Okay. I have to do it. You don't want me to, but I have to.
Here it is:
OH. I DID IT.
So. That is our adventure in a nutshell.
Bubbles are a complete mystery to me. It's like, they're just so...bubbly. It's so crazy.
Also, if you get a chance, read Allie Brosh's latest blog. Something with the word "Alot" in the title. Not "a lot." "Alot." One word. www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. Go there. Do it. Now.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote of Note: "When the broken-hearted people living in the world agree/there will be an answer."
Title: Let It Be.
Artist: The Beatles.
^^^Tribute to Katie Stevens. I won't explain, because I'll sound like a complete nerd who has nothing better to do than watch T.V. Google. Wink.
Once Completed, The Mission II: Get a picture of my brother looking through a bubble.
The Participants: Me, Nathan (my brother), Jenna (my sister), three bubble wands of various colors, my epically awesome Canon camera. It's my baby.
Now, first off, bubbles are COOL. You know how excited the caveman guy that discovered bubbles probably was when he was washing himself in his primitive washtub and suddenly, a primitive bubble floated out of his primitive soap, a shining, clean, rainbow swirly beacon of hope for our race! He probably rushed out of his bathtub and ran to tell all his caveman buddies, but when they went to see it, it had already popped and they were like, "Marvin, put your loincloth back on." He probably worked his caveman hiney off trying to recreate this bubble. And when he finally did, everyone agreed he was just too good for loincloths.
Of course, my camera isn't as high speed as I'd like it to be (I'm a cheap teenager without a job, okay? Cut me some slack, man), but I think I did pretty well in the art of bubble-photographing. It's totally an art, by the way. You have to be awesome and run around like a maniac after these bubbles trying to get the lens to focus on it. Ordinary people don't do that. Only those of us that are certifiably insane can truly succeed at this.
THE END PRODUCT:
BEHOLD. The first good picture of a bubble.
LOOK, IT'S POPPING ON HIS NOSE!
Well, he was really happy about SOMETHING.
TRIUMPH!
Okay. I have to do it. You don't want me to, but I have to.
Here it is:
OH. I DID IT.
So. That is our adventure in a nutshell.
Bubbles are a complete mystery to me. It's like, they're just so...bubbly. It's so crazy.
Also, if you get a chance, read Allie Brosh's latest blog. Something with the word "Alot" in the title. Not "a lot." "Alot." One word. www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. Go there. Do it. Now.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote of Note: "When the broken-hearted people living in the world agree/there will be an answer."
Title: Let It Be.
Artist: The Beatles.
^^^Tribute to Katie Stevens. I won't explain, because I'll sound like a complete nerd who has nothing better to do than watch T.V. Google. Wink.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Houston, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.
Okay, so I have a problem.
Blogger won't let me post comments. Like, I did for a while. But now when I try to, it doesn't let me! I NEED HELP. Por favor.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Blogger won't let me post comments. Like, I did for a while. But now when I try to, it doesn't let me! I NEED HELP. Por favor.
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Better Not Bare Your Buttocks To The Innocent Bystanders.
Has this week been super long? I think this week has been super long.
Just thought I'd throw that out there for your consideration.
SO. I have a story to tell you.
There we were. Me, my curly-haired best-bud Ashley (known by myself as Ashatay), and my extraordinarily tall friend Aaron's mother were all sitting in a car. Aaron's mother's car, to be exact.
There THEY were. The baseball boys. They were preparing for their game, all their cars parked in the same area, BLASTING some awful country music from their car speakers. I'm talking TWANGY country. Like, "my tractor is my only love because my girlfriend stole my car and my dog and now I'm gonna go sleep with lots of other women, that'll show her." THAT stuff. Nothing too terribly weird about it, other than the fact that they're willingly putting their ears through such torture. I'm sorry if you like country music. I'm allergic to it. It makes me break out.
That was when they started to take their pants off. Just strippin' down to their little spandex shortie thingies that they're trying to pass off as underwear. The three of us being fairly modest females, we all grimace, make an "ewh" face and look away.
BUT THEY AREN'T DONE.
Several minutes later, after they've lulled us into a false sense of security by putting their pants on, I turn around, looking for Aaron. I am met with a round, pale, shockingly hairy bare boy ass staring me in the face. YES, STARING. It was saying, "I HAVE JUST BRANDED MYSELF INTO YOUR BRAIN. YOU WILL NEVER GET THIS PICTURE OUT OF YOUR HEAD. FEAR MY HAIRINESS." I started yelling things like, "OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD." Aaron's mother was yelling things like, "EWH EWH EWH." She started to drive away and Ashley, who missed the whole thing, was yelling things like, "MY EYES ARE CLEAN. MY EYES ARE CLEAN!"
He and his buddies noticed and pointed and laughed at us.
I am scarred for life. FOR LIFE, I TELL YOU.
But you know what I was thinking after we left and I recovered slightly?
What the HELL did the people in FRONT of him see?
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "I'm sure I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."
Title: Piano Man.
Artist: Billy Joel.
^^^CAPITAL song. Just fantastic.
Just thought I'd throw that out there for your consideration.
SO. I have a story to tell you.
There we were. Me, my curly-haired best-bud Ashley (known by myself as Ashatay), and my extraordinarily tall friend Aaron's mother were all sitting in a car. Aaron's mother's car, to be exact.
There THEY were. The baseball boys. They were preparing for their game, all their cars parked in the same area, BLASTING some awful country music from their car speakers. I'm talking TWANGY country. Like, "my tractor is my only love because my girlfriend stole my car and my dog and now I'm gonna go sleep with lots of other women, that'll show her." THAT stuff. Nothing too terribly weird about it, other than the fact that they're willingly putting their ears through such torture. I'm sorry if you like country music. I'm allergic to it. It makes me break out.
That was when they started to take their pants off. Just strippin' down to their little spandex shortie thingies that they're trying to pass off as underwear. The three of us being fairly modest females, we all grimace, make an "ewh" face and look away.
BUT THEY AREN'T DONE.
Several minutes later, after they've lulled us into a false sense of security by putting their pants on, I turn around, looking for Aaron. I am met with a round, pale, shockingly hairy bare boy ass staring me in the face. YES, STARING. It was saying, "I HAVE JUST BRANDED MYSELF INTO YOUR BRAIN. YOU WILL NEVER GET THIS PICTURE OUT OF YOUR HEAD. FEAR MY HAIRINESS." I started yelling things like, "OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD." Aaron's mother was yelling things like, "EWH EWH EWH." She started to drive away and Ashley, who missed the whole thing, was yelling things like, "MY EYES ARE CLEAN. MY EYES ARE CLEAN!"
He and his buddies noticed and pointed and laughed at us.
I am scarred for life. FOR LIFE, I TELL YOU.
But you know what I was thinking after we left and I recovered slightly?
What the HELL did the people in FRONT of him see?
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "I'm sure I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."
Title: Piano Man.
Artist: Billy Joel.
^^^CAPITAL song. Just fantastic.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Demon Squirrel Watches You Masturbate.
I'm all better! In case you wanted to know. IbuProfin made my fever go down and it just stayed there. It's like, the best drug ever. YAY DRUGS!
It's been reduced to occasional nose-faucet moments and little dry coughs.
My family and myself went to my grandparents' house this weekend celebrate Jesus's ability to not die properly. We drove down on my sick day and had pizza and all that jazz, and just happened to come in during the WORST MOVIE EVER: Journey to the Center of the Earth. The one with Brendan (Brenden? I don't like him enough to check the correct spelling of his name) Fraser (Frazier? Frasier? See previous parentheses). It's not the worst movie or anything very significant in the events of this weekend, I just had to say that because it truly is terrible, and if I didn't warn you, you might watch it and then I'd be responsible for your brain melting, boiling, and then jumping out of your head and running away screaming.
That could be bad.
The next day, I actually got SUNBURNED. Yes. It was warm and gorgeous outside, so I spent the entire day humiliating myself outside playing football. But, it was fantastic, and my cousin told me all about how he got to see Billy Joel and Elton John in concert and the very old gay man that sat next to him. His name was Dan, and apparently he got very excited over the fact that someone my cousin's age (my age) knew so much about B.J and E.J (we will not pause to make fun of Billy Joel's initials. Let's be semi-adults here for a moment). He also informed me that in his Spanish class, he enjoys saying everything in what he calls his "creepy Mexican voice" to aggravate his teacher.
He's my hero.
I ended up a bit Rudolph-ish.
That night, we were all getting ready for bed. You know how you pack all your bathroom items in a little plastic thingie or a Ziploc bag? Mine are in the former, thanks to a very useful Christmas present I got. Well, here's the thing. You know hand soap? How it's in those bottles where you press on the top of them (apologies for the terrible sentence structure, I just couldn't think of a better way to put it)? Do NOT put those in with anything else, because it will get EVERYWHERE. Inevitably. It will happen.
This DID happen.
I thought I'd gotten all of it off my toothbrush. But I didn't. So when I stuck it in my mouth and brushed and saw there was way more foam than normal (I couldn't taste it until after I'd spit the toothpaste out. Weird, right?), I realized...oh God, I just brushed my teeth with soap.
It was disgusting. It reminded me of what it would be like to eat some sort of plant. I don't know what kind of plant I was thinking of, but not a good plant. It just seemed plantish to me.
This morning, when we got up to go to church, I took a shower. My grandparents have certain bathrooms they like us all to use (one is the guys' and one is the girls' and one is just a bathtub, no shower, and one doesn't have a bathtub OR shower), and the girls' bathroom has a window in it. Just a random window, and not one of those frosted windows you see on showers and in some bathrooms. There is no place in the bathroom you can stand that will not be in view of the window. Of course, it didn't occur to me to just change in the shower, so I was drying off and putting my clothes on very cautiously, sneaking glances out the window to make sure the neighbors weren't peeking over their fence or whatever.
I DID, however, see some squirrels. Three. One was on the ground, and two were on the fence, just kind of sitting there and twitching (squirrels do not sit still, ever. They vibrate). It felt like they were watching me. I BET THEY WERE ROBOT SQUIRRELS. And the neighbors sent them to spy on the visitors while we were in the bathrooms!
Peeping Tom, this is Squirrel 100 requesting backup, they have dogs, repeat, DOGS.
It was fun, though. We got all prettied up and ate junk food and stuff. Not necessarily in that order, but you know.
Happy Easter!
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "If I could say what I wanna say/I'd say I wanna blow you away/Be with you every night/Am I squeezing you too tight?"
Title: Things I'll Never Say.
Artist: Avril Lavigne.
^^^THIS SONG IS IN MY HEAD
P.S. My cousin got me wanting to listen to Billy Joel and Elton John, so you should listen to Lullaby and The Longest Time and Piano Man (by the former) and Tiny Dancer and Someone Saved My Life Tonight (by the latter). Well, obviously because when I wanna listen to something I HAVE to recommend it to you.
Mafia Squirrel. Be afraid.
It's been reduced to occasional nose-faucet moments and little dry coughs.
My family and myself went to my grandparents' house this weekend celebrate Jesus's ability to not die properly. We drove down on my sick day and had pizza and all that jazz, and just happened to come in during the WORST MOVIE EVER: Journey to the Center of the Earth. The one with Brendan (Brenden? I don't like him enough to check the correct spelling of his name) Fraser (Frazier? Frasier? See previous parentheses). It's not the worst movie or anything very significant in the events of this weekend, I just had to say that because it truly is terrible, and if I didn't warn you, you might watch it and then I'd be responsible for your brain melting, boiling, and then jumping out of your head and running away screaming.
That could be bad.
The next day, I actually got SUNBURNED. Yes. It was warm and gorgeous outside, so I spent the entire day humiliating myself outside playing football. But, it was fantastic, and my cousin told me all about how he got to see Billy Joel and Elton John in concert and the very old gay man that sat next to him. His name was Dan, and apparently he got very excited over the fact that someone my cousin's age (my age) knew so much about B.J and E.J (we will not pause to make fun of Billy Joel's initials. Let's be semi-adults here for a moment). He also informed me that in his Spanish class, he enjoys saying everything in what he calls his "creepy Mexican voice" to aggravate his teacher.
He's my hero.
I ended up a bit Rudolph-ish.
That night, we were all getting ready for bed. You know how you pack all your bathroom items in a little plastic thingie or a Ziploc bag? Mine are in the former, thanks to a very useful Christmas present I got. Well, here's the thing. You know hand soap? How it's in those bottles where you press on the top of them (apologies for the terrible sentence structure, I just couldn't think of a better way to put it)? Do NOT put those in with anything else, because it will get EVERYWHERE. Inevitably. It will happen.
This DID happen.
I thought I'd gotten all of it off my toothbrush. But I didn't. So when I stuck it in my mouth and brushed and saw there was way more foam than normal (I couldn't taste it until after I'd spit the toothpaste out. Weird, right?), I realized...oh God, I just brushed my teeth with soap.
It was disgusting. It reminded me of what it would be like to eat some sort of plant. I don't know what kind of plant I was thinking of, but not a good plant. It just seemed plantish to me.
This morning, when we got up to go to church, I took a shower. My grandparents have certain bathrooms they like us all to use (one is the guys' and one is the girls' and one is just a bathtub, no shower, and one doesn't have a bathtub OR shower), and the girls' bathroom has a window in it. Just a random window, and not one of those frosted windows you see on showers and in some bathrooms. There is no place in the bathroom you can stand that will not be in view of the window. Of course, it didn't occur to me to just change in the shower, so I was drying off and putting my clothes on very cautiously, sneaking glances out the window to make sure the neighbors weren't peeking over their fence or whatever.
I DID, however, see some squirrels. Three. One was on the ground, and two were on the fence, just kind of sitting there and twitching (squirrels do not sit still, ever. They vibrate). It felt like they were watching me. I BET THEY WERE ROBOT SQUIRRELS. And the neighbors sent them to spy on the visitors while we were in the bathrooms!
Peeping Tom, this is Squirrel 100 requesting backup, they have dogs, repeat, DOGS.
It was fun, though. We got all prettied up and ate junk food and stuff. Not necessarily in that order, but you know.
Happy Easter!
Love
Love
Love
Samm
Song Quote Of Note: "If I could say what I wanna say/I'd say I wanna blow you away/Be with you every night/Am I squeezing you too tight?"
Title: Things I'll Never Say.
Artist: Avril Lavigne.
^^^THIS SONG IS IN MY HEAD
P.S. My cousin got me wanting to listen to Billy Joel and Elton John, so you should listen to Lullaby and The Longest Time and Piano Man (by the former) and Tiny Dancer and Someone Saved My Life Tonight (by the latter). Well, obviously because when I wanna listen to something I HAVE to recommend it to you.
Mafia Squirrel. Be afraid.
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