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One of those crazy teen blogger types. Completely bribe-able with coffee. An INTP.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Where the Mind Wanders, the Heart There Lies

I read something (okay, it was a picture that popped up while I was using StumbleUpon) recently that said that if you wanted to know where the heart lies, you must look where your mind wanders.

It certainly makes me question what exactly the fuck is wrong with my heart and mind.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Dig Dug and Other Such Discouraging Activities

Well, I may kick ass at Bosconian, but I suck ass at Dig Dug. Really. My legitimate highest score today was 1850. I always either kill myself (fuck going backwards, fuck those red cars, fuck that entire game) or those homicidal/suicidal/maniacal red cars fucking kill me (fuck those guys).

Also, what the hell are the brown things in the track? Is it mud? Is it a hole? Is it a muddy hole? What the hell kind of track am I on that they can't do some proper fucking upkeep? Honestly.

Also, I have a Tumblr now. It's one of those other discouraging activities. It's not really very interesting (mine, I mean, not Tumblr in general). Hurr's a link if you want.

Luna is a tag/label for this post because I'm currently located at the home of my friend, who I have christened Luna.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Poems: you are pretty

Poems: you are pretty: I have looked at the sky a whole whole lot I have felt of the sunshine too. but never have I ever looked at or felt anything as pretty as ...

I Want a Love Story

I want a love story. I want that falling feeling, the crash of lips and the fingers in the hair.

I want a love story. I want staying up late in each others' arms just because.

I want a love story. I want coffee and pizza at three in the morning and you.

But you're fictional.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Photo Recovery (Not Quite a) Fiasco

My grandmother was moaning about how she'd lost all the pictures on her camera. "Oh, I've probably deleted them all. I'm so stupid!" Never-ending. So I go to Google.

Back up about a week, and you'd see Nama (our nickname for my grandmother; it comes from my brothers being incapable of pronouncing Gramma when they were little) snapping pictures of the ocean on her vacation, then running out of room. So she bought an SD card, popped that sucker in, done!

Back to now: "I got all the pictures off the SD card, but not off the camera itself. They won't show up."

I download VaioSoft Recover Manager, an absolutely wonderful little program. Worked like a charm, and in, like, less than thirty seconds, I had ten pictures sitting on her desktop. Unfortunately, these were not the pictures she was looking for. I ran VSRM again. It only found the same pictures. I banged my head against the desk, and then-

"Wait, can you save pictures on an adapter?"

I have a strong mental image of my laptop's AC adapter and feel the urge to kick a baby. Fortunately, I manage to downgrade my frustration to, "Uhm, what?"

"Yeah, I pulled out this little thing when I was putting in the SD card, and it said 'ADAPTER' on it."

I go to Google again. I begin to have a hunch. I go to Google Images and point to a certain picture. "Did it look like that?"


"Exactly like that, or only similar?"


This is that picture. You have to click it, because I'm not explaining the joke here. If you don't understand it, click here for information.

My goodness. When I go home (I'm at the office at this very moment, really shouldn't be blogging), I'm going to retrieve the photos from her MicroSD card.

Thank God they worship me for such sorcery instead of crying out, "Burn the witch! Burn her!" (I've been reading a lot about the Puritans lately. So sue me.)

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Fuck Unhappy People

Note: I wrote this yesterday but could not post it until today due to a retarded router.

It pisses me off to see people in what should be perfect relationships bitching and making a huge deal out of every little thing. It's just incredibly rage-inducing. Today at lunch, we were making sex jokes galore. (So, business as usual.) We have a game we play called the Word Association Game. One person says a word and then we go in a circle saying the first word that comes to mind. Example:

Person 1: “Fun.”
Person 2: “Playground.”
Person 3: “Roleplaying?”
Person 4: “Kinky.”

Anyways, Xeno laughed at a joke that was made about him and another guy friend of mine having anal sex (which, for the record, is almost certainly only a joke and in no way true). His girlfriend- a good friend of mine for ages- got super pissed off and for whatever reason he had to apologize. I do not understand this at all. She makes jokes just like the rest of us, and it's certainly not the first anal sex joke we've ever told about Xeno. He finds them amusing (or, at least, he laughs at them).

Eventually, Xeno laughed at another joke- God forbid someone find something using the word “boobies” amusing!- and he got in trouble with her (who I will now be calling Penelope) again. This time he didn't apologize. It was fucking stupid of her to both a) get angry with him for laughing- fucking asshat, he was laughing more at the facts that our friend had chosen the word “boobies” over “breasts” and that this word had been associated with “crayons” than any real demeaning joke- and b) expect him to apologize. So she got pissed (imagine that! If you knew her, you'd be the exact opposite of surprised) and stormed off to go sit with her back against the wall a few feet away. Of course, she was positioned right within Xeno's line of sight and pretty much out of everyone else's. He said nothing, and the table continued the game sans Penelope, not even acknowledging her departure. She coughed. We continued the game. She said something along the lines of, “Thanks, guys.” I don't know if the rest heard her, but I ignored her, as I felt that she was being very ridiculous overall and I know myself well enough to be certain that if I spoke to her, I'd go off and she'd get pissed at me. It shouldn't have mattered, though; she's pissed at me 90% of the time anyways. God knows why. Apparently I'm just a terribly abrasive person.

Gahh, fuck people who can't just be happy. I wish everyone around me would just smile and laugh and not be so fucking uptight and needy and clingy and demented.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Grargh, Boys

I don't want to go on a date with Kirby. At all. I don't want to hold his hand, and I don't want to kiss him.

My brain is one crazay bish.

I just want to toss Kirby to the side and ask out Mr. President, but I... don't want to. And I think I just now figured out why.

What happens when I get a date with someone, or at least get to the point where I know they really like me? I stop liking them.

I think I just really want to keep liking Jacob, and subconsciously I believe that if I get him on a date, I'll stop liking him. Well, more like consciously believe. 'Cause it's true.

Anyways, yeah. Grargh, boys.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Scream: Mary Surratt Edition

Mary Surratt. You've probably heard her name before. She was the first woman to hang in the United States. She was convicted of conspiracy to murder Abraham Lincoln. Bad person, yes?

Except her *military* trial was rigged. Basic rights were grossly denied her. She shouldn't have even had a damn military trial, she should have had a civil trial with a jury of her peers, not a bunch of generals- good friends of Lincoln, angrily grieving their loss.

Still, she was just a bad person who just got the harsh treatment she deserved, right?

Her attorney, Mr. Aiken, asked a DC court for a writ of habeus corpus with the argument that the military tribunal had no jurisdiction over his client. The writ was issued at 3 AM. President Johnson cancelled the writ at 11:30 AM. She was walked out to hang at 1:15 PM. From the scaffold, one of the others set to hang (Powell) said, "Mrs. Surratt is innocent. She doesn't deserve to die with the rest of us." She complained that the bindings about her arms hurt, and the officer preparing her said, "Well, it won't hurt long."

Bitches be bitches.

Why do we not learn of occasions such as this in history class? Is it because that may spoil our allegiance to the flag? We are being indoctrinated into the national cult, the history of which we are not even fully aware.

Please, take your time to learn a little about the hell some have gone through at the expense of liberty before you go around declaring America to be the greatest country in existence.