Archive for June, 2009


NO MORE BIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a means for celebration. The end of Bio is the end of all suffering, and the beginning of a new era of peace and glory.

No more bio!!

No more bio!!


It’s pancake face.

This aint no fuckin joke.

This ain't no fuckin' joke.

You’ve been warned.

I stayed after school with my friend Nikki last week. We went to her drama meeting. The man in charge was a nice guy. He was funny and nice and really connected with everyone at the meeting. It was obvious that he was an awesome guy who everyone loved. You could see how he inspired everyone around him.

Even though it was the first time I’d ever been to a drama meeting, I felt welcome. I didn’t recieve any hostility because I wasn’t a drama kid or anything. The guy was totally cool. I left there feeling accepted and knowing I would go back again because the meeting was so fun. It didn’t feel like an extracurricular school activity. It felt like an awesome hangout. I believe it was because of this guy, everyone was so fun and the meeting was a blast. I was even contemplating  joining the drama club because it seemed so loose and fun. All because of that guy!!

Today I found out that man in charge died.

His name was Mr. Ingalls and he was found by his boyfriend at his home.

Facebook is completely overcome with “Rest in Peace” ‘s and “We miss you” ‘s.

I feel like I should say something, but I think I’ll sound like a noob because I barely knew the guy. *sigh*

Oh well. I put “rip”

Rest in peace, Mr. Ingalls. You seemed like a pretty cool guy.

Food Chain

Today in Biology, we were instructed to make food webs, or food chains. I was sitting at my lab station with a blank paper, trying to think of an interesting food chain to create. I glanced to my left. A girl was drawing an african food chain complete with girraffes and lions (etc.) that were so horribly drawn that they were hilarious. I complemented her work and glanced to my right. A boy was sketching out his food web. I’m still not entirely sure what the habitat was. The animals were ok looking, until I saw a lion-man creature. I was so fascinated.

I took a trip around the room and found people making the same, un-creative food chains. BOOORING!

Actually, I found one other girl in my class who had made an awesome food web. At the top, everlooking the entire biome, was a sun with a face. Next to the sun read “Man-eater. YUM!” Underneathe that was a giant bacteria, butterflies, cats and other various, yet awesome, animals. We chatted for a bit and she told me of her dreams of having a dinosaur in it. She told the teacher that her favorite animal was a dinosaur, to which my teacher replied, “Dinosaurs arn’t around. They don’t count.”   Oh, how inspirational! I argued that my favorite animal was a unicorn and she told me that fantasy animals don’t count either, breaking my heart and shattering my dreams.

I think this picture is appropriate for my broken heart.

Anyway, I ventured back to my table after my little adventure to the other side of the room and drew my food web, which looked identical to this:

I believe that my food chain is the only accurate one out there.


Bio is the fucking spindle fiber of a chromosome that rests like a parasite on a barnicle on the pale and pasty belly of an obnoxiously fat land whale that is earth in which we live. That is how insignifigant it is.

I fell on a jar.

Are you freaking serious? Why? Why?!?                                   <– Look out Kiddies.

Once you get past the disgustingness of a fat guy shoving a jar up his ass, it is actually quite hilarious. The video shows a random naked dude who sits on a jar. The jar explodes in his ass and he proceeds to stick his fingers up to retrieve the broken glass shards. Keep in mind that he’s bleeding a ton.

What’s he just go, “Hey I’m bored, I’m gonna sit on a jar. That’ll be fun. That’ll ease my boredom. Oh, look, it’s my old video camara. I think I’ll tape myself using a jar as an anal plug and pollute the young minds of america everywhere. Haha I’m just too cool.”

Does this guy have any life AT ALL?! He obviously has no friends. What would happen if you made a video like that and your friends saw it? It would be so awkward all the time. Kids. This is what happens when you do drugs. Or suffer from extreme loneliness. Or are just really really bored.

I found responses to this on youtube and decided to check it out. It’s not the worst I’ve seen. The BME Pain Olympics were pretty bad. A guys just hacks up his slim jim. I laughed the entire time. Especially when he pops out his balls.

2 Girls 1 Cup is just nauseating. *shivers* Two asian girls like, devour poop and throw up into eachothers mouths. Yeah…

Tubgirl is just hilarious.

I’ve seen a couple variations of 2 Girls 1 Cup, (Like, 3 Girls 2 Cups or something like that) when I just got fed up with all these people and thier cups.

There’s apparently a nazi decapitation video out there, as well as a slovakian murder video in which a poor guy gets his eyes gouged out. That’s like 3 Guys 1 Hammer. But I’m too chicken to watch something like that. Maybe I’ll watch it with a buddy. Ashley is too scared. She can’t even watch 60 seconds of Saw or she’ll throw up haha.

Yeah so this is pretty much a rant about nothing important.

I was surfing the interweb, and I discovered this very epic shirt.

This shirt is too awesome. I need it.

Anyway, this made me think a little about ghosties. Should I become a ghost, I would definitely want to haunt people, particularly Ashley…

This is what I think about at 9:23 at night when I’m all hyped up on coffee. I love coffee. Today was free donut day!

Back to the point. Haunting tactics. My example for now will be Ashley. She shall be the hauntee. (In case you don’t know Ashley, she’s my bestie. Check out her wordpress.

I’ll start with the simple haunt. Personally, I enjoy seeing people when they’re terrified. Especially Ashley. I would hide in her closet and make freaky giggly noises. Perhaps sing the song Peach Plum Pear. I would find a clown nose and make it hover in front of her face. I would trip out her dog, maybe possess it and make it dance. Or speak. Haahaha that would be great. Imagine Ashley, innocently reading her vampire fantasy books, or making a Frerard yaoi or something. Her dog, aka me, saunters into the room. It places it’s paws on the edge of her bed, gets real close to her face, opens its mouth and says:

“Hold me closer, tiny dancer.”

In a disgusting dog voice. The it just walks out of the room, like nothing happened.

I would possess the baby doll in her closet and freak the shit out of her. You see, she has this doll that used to be her mother’s. I’m telling you: this is the freakiest doll you’ve ever seen. It’s got this arm lever thing that makes it close it’s eyes and when they open back up they’re looking somewhere else. You never know where it’s gonna look. I would make that thing like, hide in her bed sheets with a corkscrew knife.

Imagine little innocent Ashley, asleep and dreaming of vampire fantasies or Frerard yaoi. She feels a tingly sharp sensation on the bottom of her foot. She pulls off her covers to find a freaky-as-shit doll poking her foot with a corkscrew. It brings its arm down upon her foot, stabbing her with the corkscrew over and over, and with each turn of the lever/arm, each time it stabs her, it’s eyes change. Hahahah oh yes.

I would wait until she was just about to drift into sleep. Just about to dream of vampire fantasies and Frerard yaoi, and I would set off every single music box in her room at the same exact time. Then I would laugh. I WOULD LAUGH as she screamed in sheer terror.

I would put on her beloved pinstripe pants and wear them everywhere. She would she a floating pair of pinstipe pants walking all over the place. Doing the cancan in her closet. Seriously, can you imagine opening up your closet only to see your favorite pair of pants doing a little dance in front of you. And the cancan no less…

Things I Hate

There are so many things in life that I loathe.

I’ll name off a few.


Undercooked Spaghetti.

Holy oozing nub-dong. I freaking hate it so much. It decieves you with it’s cooked visage then once you bite into it, it sucks. It just sucks. Just who do you think you are, you pathetic useless noodle? Your one purpose on this earth is to nourish ME, and you fail at that. Nice job. You officially fail at life.


GTFO. Nobody loves you. Nobody. You hear that? Not one measley (that’s right, measley) soul on God’s green earth loves you and your specky insignifigantness. Imagine the life of a speck of dust. Where does it originate? On someone skin, perhaps? An old wrinkly skin cell, scratched off by an old prostitute. You fly around for eternity, looking for a place to settle down, but never really getting there. How depressing.

Random Corn Kernals

NO. JUST NO. I’ll see a corn kernal on the floor of my bedroom and be like, WTF. I DIDN’T EVEN EAT CORN.

Why are you here little corn kernal? What do you want from me? Is there something so important that you need to communicate to the world by being here? On my bedroom floor? The room where I sleep? Why, little kernal? Why? What are you trying to tell me?


No. Just go die and leave. That’s right. Die, and then leave. In that order.

Boob Implants That Arn’t On Your Boobs

*sigh* Is this what people spend money on nowadays?

*sigh* Is this what people spend money on nowadays?

Wtf. Is this guy so lonely that he needs the company of two fake boobies to help him ease his pain? Does he speak to them? Does he feel them up? What does his girlfriend, if he ever gets one, think of it?

Imagine finding a cute guy, only to fine out he has boob implants. On his freaking ARMS. What’s he going to do when he is an old, old man who needs the help of a freckley boy-scout to lead him across the street.

Boy: Hey mister! You should really get these checked out, they look cancerous.

Geezer: Oh no young lad, those arn’t tumors. They’re nice supple sacks of slim jim meat that I decided to implant into myself when I went through a bout of depression and loneliness in my mid twenties. Fiesty eh?

And think. By then, they won’t even be nice looking. They’ll be all wrinkly and flabby from age.

It’s a badonkadonk.


My bestie Ashley and I were discussing the wonders of the badonkadonk when we thought: What exactly is a badonkadonk? What is it’s signifigance? What does this mean to the human population?

We did some research.

A definition on and it said as follows:

An expression for an extremely curvaceous female behind. Women who possess this feature usually have a small waist that violently explodes into a round and juicy posterior (e.g., 34c, 24, 38). Other characteristics would be moderately wide hips and a large amount of booty cleavage (i.e, depth of butt-crack).
First of all, ew. This was obviously written by a guy who tried to make the definition sound less obvious that a man infact wrote it. One word: Fail.
Second of all, this word is far too epic for such a definition.
Google revealed far more about the mysteries of the badonkadonk.
From my findings, I have found discoveries ranging from this:












To this:

Your eyes do not decieve you. That is indeed a cow.

From the gathered findings, I have concluded that the fabled badonkadonk really has no meaning. It is a free roaming word, not bound by a resticting definition. It floats from meaning to meaning, only depending on you percieve it.

After finding out the true identity of badonkadonk, or lack therof, Ashley and I decided to honor the badonkadonk by creating our own versions, mutations, and stem-offs of the word.

  • BadonkaDouglas
  • BadonkaDingus
  • BadonkaDong
  • BadonkaDink
  • Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk
  • BadonkaDAAAMMMN!
  • BadonkaJesus
  • Badonkapocalypse
  • BadonkaWombat
  • BadonkaBoyardee
  • BadonkaDonkey
  • BadonkaJamima
  • BadonkaDildo
  • BadonkaPops
  • BadonkaMole
  • Badonkanaconda
  • Bandonka.
  • BadonkaCondom
  • Bandonkarreah
  • Badonkalicious
  • BadonkaDip
  • Badonkadonkadong
  • Badungabun
  • Badonka-dada-dada-daaah I’m lovin’ it.

The badonkadonk lives on.

This is indeed my first post.