Showing posts with label x. Show all posts
Showing posts with label x. Show all posts

Thursday, March 31, 2011

It Bugs Me...Random Post!

That this blog has seen very little activity lately. (It bugs me that I could not remember the word "activity" until a few seconds passed by. Curse you, fatigue!)

I suppose it might be a good thing that people haven't been posting; that could mean that people are less bugged, and that would be great. That's probably not the case...

It bugs me that I have this taste in my mouth. It's not terrible, just...there.

It bugs me that I'm not accomplishing everything my brain thinks I should. Stupid brain. Be smarter!

It bugs me that I have itchy scratches on my arm, courtesy of an adorable yet evil kitten, who thinks that petting means "fight time, claws extended".

It bugs me that I can't make a reasonable acronym out of "fight time, claws extended", so I must change it to "fight all, claws extended", so I can say F.A.C.E.

It bugs me that face is a word. It's so weird. (yea, well, so's your face! There, I said it first.)


Wednesday, January 20, 2010

I'm Too Lazy...

...to sign out of Mom's account and into my own.

Anyway, this is a complain-y post.

I mean, I have a good excuse why I'm not writing any new posts. What about YOU?
This blog is so neglected. :(

Bring it back to liiiiife!

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Horror Film Checklist

Listen. I don't think I'm the only one who is bugged by the chicks and dudes in horror films. The ones that die for no reason except for their own stupidity.

SO, here's a checklist for anyone who's ever screamed at the television during such a film for reasons other than terror - namely anger, frustration, disbelief, and...anger.

1) Don't disregard the warnings of the locals. They live there. If they tell you "we've heard screams in the night from that place...it's not a good place to stay", then don't stay there. Thank them and leave. Go home. It's simple: vacations aren't fun if you're being hacked to death, m'kay?

2) Don't go anywhere where cell phones don't work. I mean, just don't. Especially in the dark. "No service" means no service. By the way, climbing further into the dark and the heights is a bad idea. If you think about doing this, to get better service for your cell phone, remind yourself of two things: it's dark, and it's scary. Go back.

3) Stay together. If someone says "I'm going to go have a look around", slap them upside the head. Usually this happens after someone has already been killed, and you've seen their maimed and/or dismembered body. Stay together.

4) Stay where the lights are. If there are no lights except candles and lanterns, stay where the candles and lanterns are. Don't run outside to get away. They're always waiting outside.

5) Don't go down that dark hallway. Especially if the music changes. If the music becomes intense and scary, shut the door and back away. The hallway is scary. The basement is scary. Don't keep walking. Don't say "hey guys? Is anyone there?" Just don't do it!

6) Kick off the heels, for crying out loud. You can run better without them, and they're not as valuable as your life. If you can use them as a missile against the assailant, that's even better. However, if your aim is bad, just kick them off and run. TOWARD other people. Not away from them. I can't stress this enough.

7) Don't wear frickin' heels on a vacation. Who ARE you??

8) Shoot first, say you're not scared second. Don't take the time to say "I ain't afraid of you" before killing the guy. Doing such a thing would provide him with the time he needs to, say, kill you first. Kill him first, and then dance on his body.

9) Shoot him again. Don't just shoot once, twice, or three times, and then go to roll him over to make sure he is dead. Doing this usually brings about many scenarios, most of which end with him still being alive and either stabbing or shooting you. Greatest advice of all: shoot him multiple times. In the head if you can. In the hands and feet if you're still not sure. And then, don't go over to where he can reach you. Run away.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Confession

I have a confession to make.

We have a dancing, singing Santa Claus in our house. He is about five feet tall, and he has one of those flapping lips (you know, the kind that makes me want to break glass. Oh, you didn't know? Well, now you do. Isn't it wonderful, learning new things?).

When he sings, he swings his hips side to side and his arms flap back and forth (like he's trying to feel you up - I swear the thing has done it to me before. Do. not. like.).

He has beady eyes and a flat head.

And I want to drop-kick him.

Every time he is set up - that first time I see him, standing all smug in the corner, thinking he's loved by all - I want to drop-kick him right in his sassy face.

I don't like Santa Claus. Mostly because I don't like all the hype and the lies and the blagh* about Santa Claus. That 5' hip-swinging, lip-flapping dummy in the corner represents pretty much everything I dislike about the Christmas season - consumerism, lies, the "reason" for being "good"...one of these days I might not be able to stop myself.

Horrified bystanders will watch with shock as I pwn that sucker.

Merry Christmas.





* in other words, stuff that makes my brain tired, sore, and angry.