Shit to post here since I don't have Word
Ah the insipid ramblings of an awkward, geeky high school girl:
As I sit in an astude...astudy manner, I ponder to myself the meanings of very deep things. Such as, why the hell this keyboard sucks a huge butt. Yes, I said it, butt. It sucks one. Massivly. Why are there happy faces on the door in the library? Is that like, hippie room? Do all the teachers secretly smoke pot in there and turn on lava lamps? I don't know, I think there are a lot of conpiracies. Conspiraces are very...conspirious. Is that a word? I think so, correct me if I'm wrong for I am still in a dazed and confused state of mind *busts out Led Zeppelin*. Conspicuous is a word...I need to ake up...you'd think stomping to Dulamon would wake someone up...
Joelle and Steph type really loud. Like, if we had a turbo jet in the library and us typing, we'd be louder. Okay, maybe not, but it's very close. I'm over exaggerating. Maybe because their computers are older than DINOSAURS! Yeah, dinosaurs, dinosaurs with herpes. That was out of line, my appologies.
Right now I don't have to go to class (choir thing at the middle school) so as you noticed I'm updating this pathetic thing with stupid blather. Oh, blather. You heard right. Even when not talking I am so blathering. I think I'm making a foo of myself now. I'll shut up; virturally.
Joelle is updating, and Steph just said, "So slow." I'm typing like a mad man...only not a man. I am woman, hear me roar, whoo, girl power and the like. *inserts pic of brawly woman here holding a Spice Girls poster singing a song about how mesturation is like the river of freedom or something."
I'm still trying to ponder the great mystery of why I'm so obsessed with Myspace. It's exactly like the real life. People judge you by outside appearance, maybe a few bands you fancy, and vague bios about yourself. You try and get the acceptance of people, even if you don't know them, or you saw them in the hall and automatically you guys are best buds. I mean, most of the people on my list, not even half I talk to, let alone see on a regular basis. I think Tom decided to make a website, where he thought, "let's get these fuckers to seem they have high self-esteem, and they'll post "hot" pictures of themselves so people can go, "HOT DAMN! SO ADD!" Makes you have that warm fuzzy feeling inside. You load the page, sign on, oh look! Someone added me! *throws mental party and self-esteem raises 10 points*. I don't know, personally I just like the constant changing of HTML codes, but we can keep that our little secret.
The microwave at school has to be one of the most vile, disgusting things on the planet. I don't think even Area 51 would do studies on that thing. Today during nutrition I assume SOMEONE microwaved popcorn in it because the only fume that filled my nasal passages was popcorn. All day I had a craving for popcorn. It distracted my learning and I probably missed something that was going to be on a test, so now I'll fail that all thanks to the filth box. No, not the person who microwaved the popcorn, everything is blamed on the box. I think that's what Hell looks like. And all Hell does is make you sit in a moldy box filled with pizza stains and other varieties of unrecognizable crap.
If someone keeps bringing up the same topics all the time I'm just going to slap them. End of story. I heard you the first time, and no, I don't have Alzheimer's.
Channel surfing, a lady is excited because she got a Land Rover. Fucking Land Rover. There's a giant red bow on it. Personally I'd be excited about the red bow more than the Land Rover.
Today on the bus I happened to sit in front of the stupidest, most ignorant person on the face of the earth. See, Dylan was sitting next to me, listening to his musica when out of nowhere this guy goes, "hey you! *acknowledging Dylan* You plan on being Goth after high school? I hate Goths, they dress weird and wear makeup. The queers, I hate Goths." I was ready to punch him in the face, but all I did was turn around, and say, "well, as you so mention it, when I get home I'm going to be Goth. I'm going to put on tons of eyeliner on and fishnets and eat Count Chocula in blood because I'm so Goth." He gives me a vacant stare, "really? Well, I hate Goths! I'm never eating Count Chocula again!" Ah yay for stereotypes.
Channel surfing again... oh look! Jay Leno's on. He's talking about random things I could care less about to some celebrity I have no clue is. Oh, they're talking about casserole. I love the feel of total mindnumbingness. That is a word…*shifty face*
I think every band, be it a school band or not, should have a guy that sits there and laughs at your jokes for hours, even if they're not funny.
I still haven't done my math homework.
Valentine's Day is coming up. AKA Single Awareness Day. You know, all I've gotten on V-Day were those mass-produced cards you get that have cute sayings. You know, the ones with a picture of a bee, and it says, 'Bee Mine" Usually I associate bees with stings. That's not romantic. Or sentimental in any way. But anyway, I've gotten those, and some candy. I remember in like, elementary you had to give a card to everyone. No thought put into them, usually they had candy attached, you ate the candy then you had fireplace fodder. In middle school people would usually give cards to friends, put cards in lockers, even give out balloons. I never got those. Now it's couples giving out flowers and balloons then making out everywhere. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby, now let's go get jiggy with it in the back of my El Camino."
I wonder what kind of fabric softener Adam Sandler uses...I should liek, write him a letter, or no, e-mail him. With bad grammar, abbreviations, and all.
Oh, the musical guest is Avril. She's out of tune. Being out of tune is so punk rawk.
How come urinals are so close together and out in the open? Is that manly? Fill me in on this.
Telemundo has truly has some very gifted actors. May seem sarcastic but I'm serious. To try and randomly stare at the camera without laughing and dramatically go, "¿Maria...por que?" is genius.
I wish I had HUGE boots with spikes on them. And if I had a car, I'd have spikes on my car with flames painted on the sides. Then I'd have some lame bumper sticker that says, "I break for beer" or some stupid saying that nobody gets.
Then I'd walk around wearing my HUGE boots and kick things for no reason. Oh, and I'd probably have tattoos and piercings.
My imagination kinda runs. Don't mind me.
There's a perfume called "So Magic". So if you spray yourself with it you smell like magic.
Wow, okay, I think a gospel should come in right now and bust out some soul.
As I sit in an astude...astudy manner, I ponder to myself the meanings of very deep things. Such as, why the hell this keyboard sucks a huge butt. Yes, I said it, butt. It sucks one. Massivly. Why are there happy faces on the door in the library? Is that like, hippie room? Do all the teachers secretly smoke pot in there and turn on lava lamps? I don't know, I think there are a lot of conpiracies. Conspiraces are very...conspirious. Is that a word? I think so, correct me if I'm wrong for I am still in a dazed and confused state of mind *busts out Led Zeppelin*. Conspicuous is a word...I need to ake up...you'd think stomping to Dulamon would wake someone up...
Joelle and Steph type really loud. Like, if we had a turbo jet in the library and us typing, we'd be louder. Okay, maybe not, but it's very close. I'm over exaggerating. Maybe because their computers are older than DINOSAURS! Yeah, dinosaurs, dinosaurs with herpes. That was out of line, my appologies.
Right now I don't have to go to class (choir thing at the middle school) so as you noticed I'm updating this pathetic thing with stupid blather. Oh, blather. You heard right. Even when not talking I am so blathering. I think I'm making a foo of myself now. I'll shut up; virturally.
Joelle is updating, and Steph just said, "So slow." I'm typing like a mad man...only not a man. I am woman, hear me roar, whoo, girl power and the like. *inserts pic of brawly woman here holding a Spice Girls poster singing a song about how mesturation is like the river of freedom or something."
I'm still trying to ponder the great mystery of why I'm so obsessed with Myspace. It's exactly like the real life. People judge you by outside appearance, maybe a few bands you fancy, and vague bios about yourself. You try and get the acceptance of people, even if you don't know them, or you saw them in the hall and automatically you guys are best buds. I mean, most of the people on my list, not even half I talk to, let alone see on a regular basis. I think Tom decided to make a website, where he thought, "let's get these fuckers to seem they have high self-esteem, and they'll post "hot" pictures of themselves so people can go, "HOT DAMN! SO ADD!" Makes you have that warm fuzzy feeling inside. You load the page, sign on, oh look! Someone added me! *throws mental party and self-esteem raises 10 points*. I don't know, personally I just like the constant changing of HTML codes, but we can keep that our little secret.
The microwave at school has to be one of the most vile, disgusting things on the planet. I don't think even Area 51 would do studies on that thing. Today during nutrition I assume SOMEONE microwaved popcorn in it because the only fume that filled my nasal passages was popcorn. All day I had a craving for popcorn. It distracted my learning and I probably missed something that was going to be on a test, so now I'll fail that all thanks to the filth box. No, not the person who microwaved the popcorn, everything is blamed on the box. I think that's what Hell looks like. And all Hell does is make you sit in a moldy box filled with pizza stains and other varieties of unrecognizable crap.
If someone keeps bringing up the same topics all the time I'm just going to slap them. End of story. I heard you the first time, and no, I don't have Alzheimer's.
Channel surfing, a lady is excited because she got a Land Rover. Fucking Land Rover. There's a giant red bow on it. Personally I'd be excited about the red bow more than the Land Rover.
Today on the bus I happened to sit in front of the stupidest, most ignorant person on the face of the earth. See, Dylan was sitting next to me, listening to his musica when out of nowhere this guy goes, "hey you! *acknowledging Dylan* You plan on being Goth after high school? I hate Goths, they dress weird and wear makeup. The queers, I hate Goths." I was ready to punch him in the face, but all I did was turn around, and say, "well, as you so mention it, when I get home I'm going to be Goth. I'm going to put on tons of eyeliner on and fishnets and eat Count Chocula in blood because I'm so Goth." He gives me a vacant stare, "really? Well, I hate Goths! I'm never eating Count Chocula again!" Ah yay for stereotypes.
Channel surfing again... oh look! Jay Leno's on. He's talking about random things I could care less about to some celebrity I have no clue is. Oh, they're talking about casserole. I love the feel of total mindnumbingness. That is a word…*shifty face*
I think every band, be it a school band or not, should have a guy that sits there and laughs at your jokes for hours, even if they're not funny.
I still haven't done my math homework.
Valentine's Day is coming up. AKA Single Awareness Day. You know, all I've gotten on V-Day were those mass-produced cards you get that have cute sayings. You know, the ones with a picture of a bee, and it says, 'Bee Mine" Usually I associate bees with stings. That's not romantic. Or sentimental in any way. But anyway, I've gotten those, and some candy. I remember in like, elementary you had to give a card to everyone. No thought put into them, usually they had candy attached, you ate the candy then you had fireplace fodder. In middle school people would usually give cards to friends, put cards in lockers, even give out balloons. I never got those. Now it's couples giving out flowers and balloons then making out everywhere. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby, now let's go get jiggy with it in the back of my El Camino."
I wonder what kind of fabric softener Adam Sandler uses...I should liek, write him a letter, or no, e-mail him. With bad grammar, abbreviations, and all.
Oh, the musical guest is Avril. She's out of tune. Being out of tune is so punk rawk.
How come urinals are so close together and out in the open? Is that manly? Fill me in on this.
Telemundo has truly has some very gifted actors. May seem sarcastic but I'm serious. To try and randomly stare at the camera without laughing and dramatically go, "¿Maria...por que?" is genius.
I wish I had HUGE boots with spikes on them. And if I had a car, I'd have spikes on my car with flames painted on the sides. Then I'd have some lame bumper sticker that says, "I break for beer" or some stupid saying that nobody gets.
Then I'd walk around wearing my HUGE boots and kick things for no reason. Oh, and I'd probably have tattoos and piercings.
My imagination kinda runs. Don't mind me.
There's a perfume called "So Magic". So if you spray yourself with it you smell like magic.
Wow, okay, I think a gospel should come in right now and bust out some soul.