Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Do They Smell Like Cabbage?
Oh man, I didn't post in October? LAME. So much for posting at least once every month this year. I swear, once I'm done with school and have about 50 less things to remember I'll be more on top of this. Meh, it's really more for my benefit than anyone who reads this, so who cares?
Anyway, exciting things abound! For instance, this Saturday Jeff Dunham is coming to my school. I. Am. So. Freaking. EXCITED! My dad will be coming that weekend (as it's dad's weekend) to go see the show with me. Unfortunately being dad's weekend and me being in the marching band this means that I have to run home after the football game to get out of my stinking clothes and run back to Beasley Coliseum in time to get out seats. Retardimundo. This will be a busy weekend for sure.
Then in about two weeks I'll be going home for Thanksgiving break. I'll be getting a preliminary dentist appointment to get my wisdom teeth out (blaaarg) BUT, more excitingly my parents are going to take me to look at some guitars. After the red clarinet incident at the beginning of the semester (oh, and the choice words I had for those idiots who told me it was 'high quality'...the choice words) my mom suggested to me that since after this year I'll really have no reason to have a new clarinet that maybe she should get me an electric guitar instead. Something I've been wanting since at least 7th grade. Better late than never, right? And being done with college I'll have more time to practice anyway. (I was such a fail bot in 7th grade, the less distractions the better...oh wait, I'm still a fail bot.) I really can't wait. My parents already bought an acoustic guitar for themselves. So I /know/ the guitar for me is a sure thing.
But it brought up an interesting conversation. After talking with the guy at the guitar store for a few hours and practicing on her own guitar she started wondering if I should get a 3/4 guitar because of my disproportionately small hands. I mean I have midget hands. The only people with hands the same size as mine are about a foot shorter than me. My hands are the same size they were when I was 11 or 12, no joke. So of course my mom makes an obscure reference from Austin Powers and asks if my hands smell like cabbage and tells me I need to work at a carnival.
THANKS MOM! Hahaha.
...My hands are tiny. *sniff*
So YAY! Jeff Dunham! YAY! Getting these friggin' teeth finally pulled out of my head! And YAY! Getting a guitar! Now if I can just get through all my classes I'd be clam happy.
IVAR'S: Keep Clam!
Anyway, exciting things abound! For instance, this Saturday Jeff Dunham is coming to my school. I. Am. So. Freaking. EXCITED! My dad will be coming that weekend (as it's dad's weekend) to go see the show with me. Unfortunately being dad's weekend and me being in the marching band this means that I have to run home after the football game to get out of my stinking clothes and run back to Beasley Coliseum in time to get out seats. Retardimundo. This will be a busy weekend for sure.
Then in about two weeks I'll be going home for Thanksgiving break. I'll be getting a preliminary dentist appointment to get my wisdom teeth out (blaaarg) BUT, more excitingly my parents are going to take me to look at some guitars. After the red clarinet incident at the beginning of the semester (oh, and the choice words I had for those idiots who told me it was 'high quality'...the choice words) my mom suggested to me that since after this year I'll really have no reason to have a new clarinet that maybe she should get me an electric guitar instead. Something I've been wanting since at least 7th grade. Better late than never, right? And being done with college I'll have more time to practice anyway. (I was such a fail bot in 7th grade, the less distractions the better...oh wait, I'm still a fail bot.) I really can't wait. My parents already bought an acoustic guitar for themselves. So I /know/ the guitar for me is a sure thing.
But it brought up an interesting conversation. After talking with the guy at the guitar store for a few hours and practicing on her own guitar she started wondering if I should get a 3/4 guitar because of my disproportionately small hands. I mean I have midget hands. The only people with hands the same size as mine are about a foot shorter than me. My hands are the same size they were when I was 11 or 12, no joke. So of course my mom makes an obscure reference from Austin Powers and asks if my hands smell like cabbage and tells me I need to work at a carnival.
THANKS MOM! Hahaha.
...My hands are tiny. *sniff*
So YAY! Jeff Dunham! YAY! Getting these friggin' teeth finally pulled out of my head! And YAY! Getting a guitar! Now if I can just get through all my classes I'd be clam happy.
IVAR'S: Keep Clam!
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 12:18 AM
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Saturday, September 26, 2009
A Country of Misplaced Priorites
I've been really busy the past few weeks. So busy I've nearly forgotten to eat half the time. But this...this just pissed me off so freaking much I had to make a post about it.
I introduce you to Latisse.
Read the page. That's right it's a prescription treatment for eyelash growth.
People are out there suffering from actual diseases, suffering from cancer or like my dad, diabetes.
AND THESE PEOPLE ARE WORRIED ABOUT THEIR DAMN FUCKING EYELASHES?!
ARE. YOU. FUCKING. SERIOUS?!
I'm sorry, I can't live in this country anymore. It's overflowing with retard.
I introduce you to Latisse.
Read the page. That's right it's a prescription treatment for eyelash growth.
People are out there suffering from actual diseases, suffering from cancer or like my dad, diabetes.
AND THESE PEOPLE ARE WORRIED ABOUT THEIR DAMN FUCKING EYELASHES?!
ARE. YOU. FUCKING. SERIOUS?!
I'm sorry, I can't live in this country anymore. It's overflowing with retard.
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 11:49 PM
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Friday, August 28, 2009
Busy Bee
I feel like a lunatic, running around all week. Classes started Monday so there's that whole frantic search to get books. Band rehearsals in the evening. We're going camping this weekend (we as in the clarinet section) so I've been running around getting ready for that. And then friends I hadn't seen in a few weeks wanted me to come over for dinner. In the time between that I've been trying to clean up the apartment and actually be a good student and do the assignments in my classes early.
Then not only am I going camping this weekend, I'll be watching a movie with some friends, then go out for drinks, and then have a different friend help me dye my hair, and generally be too social for my own good. It'll be a miracle if I don't murder someone by the end of the weekend.
The good news? I'm getting a new clarinet, a red one, and it should be here today or tomorrow. I'm hoping today so I can see it before I leave for camping. I've also been doing a lot of work in my sketchbook. I've decided to do the 100 theme challenge on DeviantArt all with Digimon pictures. And they're coming out quite nicely I must say, especially since I have just about no practice with coloured pencils. I never used them before because the only ones I had were the crappy brands, but now I have some PrismaColor ones (I've been getting colours as I need them) and hot damn the quality difference is downright shocking. If I get a chance later perhaps I'll link some of the pics here.
Anyway, that's my nutshell. *flees to class*
Then not only am I going camping this weekend, I'll be watching a movie with some friends, then go out for drinks, and then have a different friend help me dye my hair, and generally be too social for my own good. It'll be a miracle if I don't murder someone by the end of the weekend.
The good news? I'm getting a new clarinet, a red one, and it should be here today or tomorrow. I'm hoping today so I can see it before I leave for camping. I've also been doing a lot of work in my sketchbook. I've decided to do the 100 theme challenge on DeviantArt all with Digimon pictures. And they're coming out quite nicely I must say, especially since I have just about no practice with coloured pencils. I never used them before because the only ones I had were the crappy brands, but now I have some PrismaColor ones (I've been getting colours as I need them) and hot damn the quality difference is downright shocking. If I get a chance later perhaps I'll link some of the pics here.
Anyway, that's my nutshell. *flees to class*
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 8:57 AM
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Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Blister
Oh god oh god oh god! This blister is huge. It's taking up half my toe. It's not like one of those really nasty blisters. It's under a really thin layer of skin filled with watery liquid but...eeeeeeew.
And I even had a much more relevant post but this kind of took priority. It's like an alien! Nasty! Nasty! Nasty! I'm rather incoherent but...*shivers*
Yeah, I'll post something worth reading tomorrow. Like my adventure with popping this sunovabiznitch.
And I even had a much more relevant post but this kind of took priority. It's like an alien! Nasty! Nasty! Nasty! I'm rather incoherent but...*shivers*
Yeah, I'll post something worth reading tomorrow. Like my adventure with popping this sunovabiznitch.
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 2:17 AM
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Monday, August 03, 2009
Bus Station Lady Round #2
So I'm going home for the last week and a half of summer break just like I wanted. This time I'm taking Greyhound, something I haven't done in 4 years. I've no problem with taking buses it's just that last time I took this particular route they didn't really stop anywhere to get proper food. But that's beside the point, moving on.
The 'bus station' here in Pullman, if you can even call it that, is basically a grungy little box room with one of the creepiest older ladies I have ever met. When I went there for the first time all those years ago I was but a youngin', barely half way through my first year of college, and I could still remember her bulging eyes, the awkward silence, the feeling that at any given moment an axe murderer was going to jump in and slaughter everyone in the room.
~4 years later~
It's a wonderful 92 degree day. The sun is bright and I'm listening to some amazing songs I had found on some old CDs a friend gave me. Life is good.
*Enter 'bus station' stage center*
The older lady from four years prior is standing behind the desk and I'm about 90% certain she's wearing the same shirt. She watches from behind thick glasses that make her eyes appear to bulge even more. Her eyes follow me like she's a cheetah and I'm a gazelle on the Serengeti. It's unnerving. She does not say 'hello' or 'how are you?' or make any indication that I am welcome there at all, in fact she remains silent and continues to watch me.
"Um...hi. I need bus tickets to Seattle...um." I suddenly scratch my right arm out of nervousness. The room was dark and musty, sunlight barely filtering in through the blinds. Flies buzzed around a coil of fly tape hanging from the corner of the ceiling. A small closet room missing a door was right beside it and I would have bet with my life that was where the old lady slept.
The lady does not respond but does what she does best: Act like a complete creeper. I stare back waiting for the alien to burst out of her chest. Finally she responds.
"When are you leaving?" She does not sound mad, but indifferent. Surprised by her sudden ability to talk I stutter a bit.
"Um, W-Wednesday. Yeah."
She begins to write out all the tickets in a methodical fashion in complete silence. When she finishes she says: "That will be $105.00."
I hand her my credit card. She makes the transaction the old fashion way with one of those presses you slide over the card. She hands me my tickets and card and says in a delightfully cheery voice: "We're having fun today aren't we."
I was so utterly shocked by her new found attitude and semi-adequate people skills that I can't quite remember what I said after that. Eventually I said 'thank you' and she replied with a 'you're welcome' and a 'goodbye'. I left the oppressive little shack as soon as possible, the door slamming behind me in my wake.
I was happy by the simple fact that after four years that creepy old lady was finally slightly less creepy.
Quote of the Day: "I want them to PAY for it!" ~ Dad, going a little bit Mafia on me while ranting about the ridiculosity of the people that hand out my school loans. Shut up, it was funny. >_>
The 'bus station' here in Pullman, if you can even call it that, is basically a grungy little box room with one of the creepiest older ladies I have ever met. When I went there for the first time all those years ago I was but a youngin', barely half way through my first year of college, and I could still remember her bulging eyes, the awkward silence, the feeling that at any given moment an axe murderer was going to jump in and slaughter everyone in the room.
~4 years later~
It's a wonderful 92 degree day. The sun is bright and I'm listening to some amazing songs I had found on some old CDs a friend gave me. Life is good.
*Enter 'bus station' stage center*
The older lady from four years prior is standing behind the desk and I'm about 90% certain she's wearing the same shirt. She watches from behind thick glasses that make her eyes appear to bulge even more. Her eyes follow me like she's a cheetah and I'm a gazelle on the Serengeti. It's unnerving. She does not say 'hello' or 'how are you?' or make any indication that I am welcome there at all, in fact she remains silent and continues to watch me.
"Um...hi. I need bus tickets to Seattle...um." I suddenly scratch my right arm out of nervousness. The room was dark and musty, sunlight barely filtering in through the blinds. Flies buzzed around a coil of fly tape hanging from the corner of the ceiling. A small closet room missing a door was right beside it and I would have bet with my life that was where the old lady slept.
The lady does not respond but does what she does best: Act like a complete creeper. I stare back waiting for the alien to burst out of her chest. Finally she responds.
"When are you leaving?" She does not sound mad, but indifferent. Surprised by her sudden ability to talk I stutter a bit.
"Um, W-Wednesday. Yeah."
She begins to write out all the tickets in a methodical fashion in complete silence. When she finishes she says: "That will be $105.00."
I hand her my credit card. She makes the transaction the old fashion way with one of those presses you slide over the card. She hands me my tickets and card and says in a delightfully cheery voice: "We're having fun today aren't we."
I was so utterly shocked by her new found attitude and semi-adequate people skills that I can't quite remember what I said after that. Eventually I said 'thank you' and she replied with a 'you're welcome' and a 'goodbye'. I left the oppressive little shack as soon as possible, the door slamming behind me in my wake.
I was happy by the simple fact that after four years that creepy old lady was finally slightly less creepy.
Quote of the Day: "I want them to PAY for it!" ~ Dad, going a little bit Mafia on me while ranting about the ridiculosity of the people that hand out my school loans. Shut up, it was funny. >_>
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 10:01 PM
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Saturday, August 01, 2009
No =/= Maybe
I know I'm only in my early 20s but sometimes I get the feeling that I'm the adult and my elders are the children. I'm honestly starting to believe that there's a point in our lives, probably around our 40s when we're likely to have a mid-life crisis, that we reach our peak maturity level and then start degenerating again.
My reason for this is my grandfather.
Good as his intentions might be, he's the type of person that feels the need to let you know every detail of what's going on every minute of every day. You think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. I mean he really does this. You see I've got relatives from two states coming to visit my grandparent's house in a few days (they live in the same town as my parents), and so they've planned this 3-day trip at a nice beach house. My grandpa calls me to invite me (after years of my dad telling him I'm an adult now, call ME and stop bugging him about everything), and I tell him as far as I know I don't have a way to get back home. I don't have much money. So I don't know if I'll even be able to get home before school starts at all.
I ask the dates of the trip though, in case by some miracle I do make it home in time. Simple question, eh? So instead of just telling me the dates which is all I asked for he tells me the itinerary. Everything from who's going in which car to petty details like who's cooking dinner on which nights. I. DON'T. CARE. I'll find that stuff out if I even end up going.
Well about a week passes. He called me again this evening to ask if I'd be able to get there. Seeing as how I'm watching my friend's pets for the whole weekend and I still have a couple more days of work to do for the marching band I said "No, I won't be there in time."
And he tells me the itinerary again.
How much more BLUNT can I be? No, I won't be there. No does not equal maybe! There's maybe a 2% chance I'd even get there by Wednesday to leave with my uncle who's getting there a bit later. Not enough to be worth it. Honestly, do I want to be stuck with that much of my extended family for that long? No. I can barely stand being in the same room with people I really like for that long without wanting to just go off by myself somewhere for a while.
I had to call my parents afterward to let off some steam, and I told my dad I sometimes wonder if he's related to that man. He's often wondered that himself.
Quote of the Day: "The word 'Pwned' was derived from 'Owned' which derived from 'Own' which derived from 'Cats'." ~ Ryan Higa
My reason for this is my grandfather.
Good as his intentions might be, he's the type of person that feels the need to let you know every detail of what's going on every minute of every day. You think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. I mean he really does this. You see I've got relatives from two states coming to visit my grandparent's house in a few days (they live in the same town as my parents), and so they've planned this 3-day trip at a nice beach house. My grandpa calls me to invite me (after years of my dad telling him I'm an adult now, call ME and stop bugging him about everything), and I tell him as far as I know I don't have a way to get back home. I don't have much money. So I don't know if I'll even be able to get home before school starts at all.
I ask the dates of the trip though, in case by some miracle I do make it home in time. Simple question, eh? So instead of just telling me the dates which is all I asked for he tells me the itinerary. Everything from who's going in which car to petty details like who's cooking dinner on which nights. I. DON'T. CARE. I'll find that stuff out if I even end up going.
Well about a week passes. He called me again this evening to ask if I'd be able to get there. Seeing as how I'm watching my friend's pets for the whole weekend and I still have a couple more days of work to do for the marching band I said "No, I won't be there in time."
And he tells me the itinerary again.
How much more BLUNT can I be? No, I won't be there. No does not equal maybe! There's maybe a 2% chance I'd even get there by Wednesday to leave with my uncle who's getting there a bit later. Not enough to be worth it. Honestly, do I want to be stuck with that much of my extended family for that long? No. I can barely stand being in the same room with people I really like for that long without wanting to just go off by myself somewhere for a while.
I had to call my parents afterward to let off some steam, and I told my dad I sometimes wonder if he's related to that man. He's often wondered that himself.
Quote of the Day: "The word 'Pwned' was derived from 'Owned' which derived from 'Own' which derived from 'Cats'." ~ Ryan Higa
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 1:13 AM
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Friday, July 31, 2009
...
All I have to say is my parents are the proud owners of a
COMPLETE MORON
*crowd cheers*
Bob: Tell 'em what they've won, Rob!
Rob: Well Bob, the 2009 Complete Moron is brought to you by the same people who gave us Chinese cheap pieces of crap tin cans on wheels. The Complete Moron stays true to its name with high rates of spontaneous combustion and no child safety windows. Prone to swerving on freeways for absolutely no God given reason, the Complete Moron is sure to make your next trip to the grocery store a highly stressful one. We here at Win-Some-Crap are not held responsible for sudden death or injury as a result of driving this God forsaken piece of s**t.
~~~
Seriously, give me a gold sticker, put me on the small bus and slap a helmet on my head for good measure.
Remember how I was playing Spyro? Well, you see after I managed to get all the gems and dragons in the various worlds (and Tree Tops ended up not being TOO hard once I figured out exactly WHAT I was supposed to do), and this task alone suffered from one retarded moment to the next, I went to go face off with Gnasty Gnorc, watched the credits roll and eventually went back to Gnasty's World where I found the (supposedly) last dragon. I went to the menu. I was only at 98%. For the next hour I proceeded to flail like a mother f***er as I frantically looked through the inventory on the menu screen, even pulling out a calculator to count up how many dragons there were (my screen listed 79, all of which I had found and confirmed after flipping through the inventory on each world at least 50 times). I went back through worlds trying to find a hidden secret dragon somewhere, had a massive fit of hysteria to a friend over Skype and still I failed to find this so called 80th dragon that the walkthrough guide I had found informed there was.
All hope seamed lost. Until...
As I searched through the inventory screens for each world yet again it suddenly occurred to me that long ago when I first played this game (and never bothered past the first home world), I remembered a world called Toasty. It was the boss level of the Artisan home world...and it wasn't showing up on my inventory screen. Then it hit me. Worlds that I haven't been to yet do not show up on the inventory screen, and therefor any dragons and gems that need to be collected would not show up either.
I then proceeded to bash my head against the keyboard, called my parents to inform them of their grievous misfortune and promptly slit my wrists.
Okay so I didn't do the last two (though I intended to do the second, but I think they already know) and my keyboard is still recovering. But honestly, someone this stupid doesn't need to stick around and stink up the gene pool!
I honestly think I'm brain damaged right now. I should stay out of the sun for a while.
Quote of the Day: "It is I, a Sith Lord! And that bulge is my dark apprentice!" ~ Darth Maul, some really absurd fanfic
posted by The Captain of the Black Widow @ 1:59 AM
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