A couple of weeks ago, my Agriculture professor assigned us a paper on Banana Pesticide And Its Effect On Workers In Nicaragua. I happened to be doing something else for the last two weeks, so I started the paper today around 11:00. I've worked on it for about 5 hours today, so I'm up to my ears in bananas and pesticide and Nicaraguans, so I'm taking a break.
Usually for me, a break consists of a beverage and a tv show on my laptop in bed with the laptop on my lap. Generally, this is what happens:
I go to the kitchen and get myself a Delicious Beverage. Pepsi and I are no longer on speaking terms, so today I made myself an Iced Tea. Once I have thus obtained said Delicious Beverage, I put it on my desk and sit on my bed and put my laptop on my lap and go to Netflix or Hulu or whatever. Once I've picked out a show to watch, I hit play, thus playing said show. The problem is that my desk is almost two feet away from my bed so I can't reach for my drink while I'm watching whatever I'm watching, and I don't want to lean way over to reach for it because then my laptop will fall off my lap and onto the floor and get totaled and won't work even if I try turning it off and on again.
So I just watch the show without drinking my Delicious Beverage, and then when it's over, I think "ok it's over, time to get back to work." But then I see my Delicious Beverage on my desk and think "I haven't finished my Delicious Beverage yet, that means my break isn't over" so I watch another episode. But the thing is, watching another episode doesn't move my desk closer to my bed, and the only time I drink any of my Delicious Beverage is while I'm thinking about what to watch next. So, finishing one drink takes about fifty episodes of whatever I'm watching. I can't put the drink on my bed because then it'll spill on my bed and then my bed will be wet.
If there's one thing I have fault with God with (how the #$%@ do you word that sentence) it's that He made belly buttons too small to be used as cupholders. If my belly button were a bit bigger and less lumpy at the bottom, it would be an ideal cupholder. But it's not. So I have to watch fifty episodes of whatever I'm show I happen to be hooked on before I finish my drink.
On the other hand, if belly buttons were big enough to be used as cupholders, than somebody with an outie belly button would look weirdly pregnant in only one part of the stomach, so that probably wouldn't work.
Ok this is completely off topic, but it's driving me up the flipping wall. My hair is in a ponytail right now, and it's sticking out of the back of my head at a right angle so I can't lean my head against the wall. GAH. Besides having a bigger belly button, I'd like to have collapsible hair so that when my ponytail's sticking out of my head at a right angle I can lean my head against the wall without having a huge lump at the back of my head.
Anyway, so I'm taking a break now with my iced tea. I was going to watch the new episode of Psych, but so far the majority of my break has consisted of waiting for the dumb video to load.
So my advice is next time you take a break from your Agriculture paper on bananas and pesticides, move your desk closer to your bed so you can reach your iced tea.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince's Bride and Prejudice
Once upon a time, there was a young man whose name was Harry. Harry was a wizard. At the time this story takes place, he was in the College of Witchcraft in London under the headmastership of Professor Emilius Brown.
One day, Harry went to the Used Magic Book Shop to buy a book for his Potions class. He found the book he needed, bought it, and went back to school to study. When he opened the Potions book, he saw the words "This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince aka Professor Snape" written on the first page.
Harry took the book to Professor Snape's office and knocked on the door. Professor Snape opened the door.
"Hello, Harry, old pal and delight of my classroom," said Professor Snape. "What can I do for you?"
"Hello, Professor Snape, chummiest of professors," said Harry. "I found this book of yours."
"Oh! you found the book!" said Professor Snape. "This is a special book. It's the book my father used to read to me when I was sick and I used to read it to your father. And today, I'm going to read it to you."
"Does it have any sports in it?" asked Harry.
"Are you kidding?" said Professor Snape. "Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..."
"Doesn't sound too bad." said Harry. "I'll try and stay awake."
"Oh, thank you very much. That's very nice of you." Said Professor Snape. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. All right..." Professor Snape opened the book and began to read. "Pride and Prejudice. By Jane Austen, Chapter One. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in the possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife-"
"Hold it, hold it," interrupted Harry. "What IS this? Are you trying to trick me? Where's the sports? Is this a KISSING BOOK?"
"Wait. Just wait." said Professor Snape. "Keep your shirt on, let me read!"
Professor Snape continued to read. But when he got to the Chapter In Which We Are Introduced To Mr. Darcy, Harry interrupted again.
"Professor, wait, wait." interrupted Harry. "What does Lizzy mean Darcy's proud? He isn't really...proud...Darcy's only faking...right?"
"Do you want me to go on with this?" said Professor Snape in disgruntled tones.
Harry, who had decided to be a Brat, ignored Professor Snape and said "who gets Wickham? Who kills Mr. Wickham? At the end! Someone's gotta do it. Is it Bingley? WHO??"
Professor Snape, who had always been a man with little patience, lost his patience.
"Avada kedavra!" he said, pointing his wand at Harry.
Then Harry died and Professor Snape finished reading Pride and Prejudice. Harry did not interrupt him again.
The End
One day, Harry went to the Used Magic Book Shop to buy a book for his Potions class. He found the book he needed, bought it, and went back to school to study. When he opened the Potions book, he saw the words "This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince aka Professor Snape" written on the first page.
Harry took the book to Professor Snape's office and knocked on the door. Professor Snape opened the door.
"Hello, Harry, old pal and delight of my classroom," said Professor Snape. "What can I do for you?"
"Hello, Professor Snape, chummiest of professors," said Harry. "I found this book of yours."
"Oh! you found the book!" said Professor Snape. "This is a special book. It's the book my father used to read to me when I was sick and I used to read it to your father. And today, I'm going to read it to you."
"Does it have any sports in it?" asked Harry.
"Are you kidding?" said Professor Snape. "Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..."
"Doesn't sound too bad." said Harry. "I'll try and stay awake."
"Oh, thank you very much. That's very nice of you." Said Professor Snape. "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. All right..." Professor Snape opened the book and began to read. "Pride and Prejudice. By Jane Austen, Chapter One. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in the possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife-"
"Hold it, hold it," interrupted Harry. "What IS this? Are you trying to trick me? Where's the sports? Is this a KISSING BOOK?"
"Wait. Just wait." said Professor Snape. "Keep your shirt on, let me read!"
Professor Snape continued to read. But when he got to the Chapter In Which We Are Introduced To Mr. Darcy, Harry interrupted again.
"Professor, wait, wait." interrupted Harry. "What does Lizzy mean Darcy's proud? He isn't really...proud...Darcy's only faking...right?"
"Do you want me to go on with this?" said Professor Snape in disgruntled tones.
Harry, who had decided to be a Brat, ignored Professor Snape and said "who gets Wickham? Who kills Mr. Wickham? At the end! Someone's gotta do it. Is it Bingley? WHO??"
Professor Snape, who had always been a man with little patience, lost his patience.
"Avada kedavra!" he said, pointing his wand at Harry.
Then Harry died and Professor Snape finished reading Pride and Prejudice. Harry did not interrupt him again.
The End
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Pepsi 2
I don't know what's happening today. Either I'm just an idiot, or Pepsi is filled with bad juju.
I just went to get another Pepsi, and one of the other cans in the box fell on the garage floor and exploded. So now I'm covered in sticky crap. Which stinks because I just took a shower today. Showers I usually try to postpone until nobody can stand me anymore because I don't enjoy them. But anyway I got covered in sticky crap which induced me to almost say something I wouldn't say in front of women and children. And then, when I was running to get a wad of paper towels to mop up the stuff I stubbed my pinkie toe on a UFO. I don't really know what I stubbed it on. But it hurt and I just got into bed and looked at it and part of the nail's coming off and it's bleeding and now I've got blood on my sheets.
YAY!
I'm switching to Coke.
Good night.
Pepsi
First off, I already know I'm an idiot, so don't tell me.
I've been working all day in for my aunt and uncle in their backyard, so when I got back home I decided to have a Pepsi because they're bad for me and they taste good. I felt like I was back at the Green Dragon after a hard day's work. Ignore that, I just had to put it in.
Anyway, I had a Pepsi. And it's been sitting on my desk in my room for the last three hours. Meanwhile, I've been working on this dumb project for my Food Science class where I have to write a summary of the effects of pink slime on inspection services. A couple of minutes ago, I decided that that was BOOOORING, so I stopped doing it. I was looking for something else productive to do, and then I saw the empty Pepsi can sitting on my desk, because I don't throw stuff away until it's old and rotten on principle. It reminded me of that commercial of the little kid who goes to live with monks, and they have to bang their heads on cans of Pepsi and then they get the markings of the top of the can on their heads.
Like I said, Food Science was boring me at the moment, so I thought I'd give it a go.
The first time, I missed the can and hit my head on the floor and all my brains fell out. I hit the can the second time, but all it did was give me a little dent in my head. I couldn't even see the dent. It didn't even crush the can into a perfect little flat circle, the can is just bent in the middle. FALSE ADVERTISING. BOOOO.
It's weird, because I hit the front of my head on the floor, but the back of it hurts. I spose my brains encountered a transfer of momentum and consequentially bounced backward and hit the back of my skull. So all in all, the Pepsi-smashing-with-the-head maneuver was a complete failure.
I'll have another go at it tomorrow if I'm not too concussed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40DykbPa4Lc
I've been working all day in for my aunt and uncle in their backyard, so when I got back home I decided to have a Pepsi because they're bad for me and they taste good. I felt like I was back at the Green Dragon after a hard day's work. Ignore that, I just had to put it in.
Anyway, I had a Pepsi. And it's been sitting on my desk in my room for the last three hours. Meanwhile, I've been working on this dumb project for my Food Science class where I have to write a summary of the effects of pink slime on inspection services. A couple of minutes ago, I decided that that was BOOOORING, so I stopped doing it. I was looking for something else productive to do, and then I saw the empty Pepsi can sitting on my desk, because I don't throw stuff away until it's old and rotten on principle. It reminded me of that commercial of the little kid who goes to live with monks, and they have to bang their heads on cans of Pepsi and then they get the markings of the top of the can on their heads.
Like I said, Food Science was boring me at the moment, so I thought I'd give it a go.
The first time, I missed the can and hit my head on the floor and all my brains fell out. I hit the can the second time, but all it did was give me a little dent in my head. I couldn't even see the dent. It didn't even crush the can into a perfect little flat circle, the can is just bent in the middle. FALSE ADVERTISING. BOOOO.
It's weird, because I hit the front of my head on the floor, but the back of it hurts. I spose my brains encountered a transfer of momentum and consequentially bounced backward and hit the back of my skull. So all in all, the Pepsi-smashing-with-the-head maneuver was a complete failure.
I'll have another go at it tomorrow if I'm not too concussed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40DykbPa4Lc
I just had an EXCELLENT IDEA
I just had an EXCELLENT IDEA.
I'm going to pick out a movie I've never seen and know very little about, and then sometime this week when I don't have all this ruddy homework and studying to do, I'll watch it on mute, and then write a summary of it. Then later I'll watch it with sound and see how close I was.
Probably a stupid waste of time, but most things I do for fun are, and I'm ok with that now.
I think I'll do "Snow White and the Huntsman."
Expect a very bad summary of "Snow White and the Huntsman" come the weekend.
Toodle pip.
I'm going to pick out a movie I've never seen and know very little about, and then sometime this week when I don't have all this ruddy homework and studying to do, I'll watch it on mute, and then write a summary of it. Then later I'll watch it with sound and see how close I was.
Probably a stupid waste of time, but most things I do for fun are, and I'm ok with that now.
I think I'll do "Snow White and the Huntsman."
Expect a very bad summary of "Snow White and the Huntsman" come the weekend.
Toodle pip.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
The French Revolution (Dick and Jane style)
This is part of a project I did for World History in my sophomore year. Kudos to my Ma for being brilliant and coming up with the idea.
See King Louis. Come, Louis. Come to the Guillotine. The Guillotine chops off heads. Chop, guillotine, chop. See Louis. See the guillotine chop off Louis' head. Oh, now Louis does not have a head. Now he can not be the king. Now nobody is the king. Now there is a republic.
Oh, look. This is Robespierre. Now Robespierre rules France. Rule, Robespierre, rule. "Oh, now I am in charge." Says Robespierre. "I like the republic. I want the Republic to stay forever. I will kill anyone who does not want the Republic." Oh, look. See Robespierre. See Robespierre kill lots of people. "Oh, this is fun!" says Robespierre. "I like being the ruler. I am making lots of people afraid. I will call my rule the Reign of Terror, because everyone is afraid."
Oh, look. See the people. Oh, see. The people do not like Robespierre. Come, Robespierre. Come to the guillotine. Chop, guillotine, chop. See the guillotine chop off Robespierre's head. Now Robespierre does not have a head. Now Robespierre can not rule France.
Before doing this project, I had learned the French Revolution at least 100000 times, and never remembered it, but now I still remember it after doing the project four years ago. It should be a requirement for all teachers of every subject to make their students re-write stuff Dick and Jane style.
It'd be a bit hard for math though. But you could say, "oh look. See the negative number. See the negative number underneath the radical. Oh, the radical does not like the negative number. "oh, you are irrational," says the radical."
The only thing is, after doing that project for history, I started thinking like that, so I can't imagine what it would be like after doing it all year for ever subject over 12+ years of education. You'd probably be stuck in Dick and Jane mode for the rest of your life, and everyone would start talking like that. I can imagine Obama saying, "Oh, look. Look and see. See my new health care plan." It would be embarrassing with him talking to foreign ambassadors like that, cause I think Dick and Jane is an American thing and the ambassadors wouldn't know what the heck's wrong with these stupid Americans and think that we're even stupider than they think we are now.
I don't actually know whether or not Europeans think we're stupid, that's just what I've heard. I've never had a European person come up to me and say "you're stupid."
I've always thought it would've been neat if Americans had stayed British and the Revolution had never happened. Then we'd have a queen instead of a president and Congress and all that. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with our government; I understand government about as much as an Orc understands dental hygiene. I just think having a queen or king would be neat, plus we wouldn't have to go through all the annoying presidential campaign advertisements. The British have been happy with a monarchy for about a billion years, so it can't be all that bad. Like the annoying peasant said, "strange men sitting in oval offices distributing health care plans is no basis for a system of government." Something along those lines.
See King Louis. Come, Louis. Come to the Guillotine. The Guillotine chops off heads. Chop, guillotine, chop. See Louis. See the guillotine chop off Louis' head. Oh, now Louis does not have a head. Now he can not be the king. Now nobody is the king. Now there is a republic.
Oh, look. This is Robespierre. Now Robespierre rules France. Rule, Robespierre, rule. "Oh, now I am in charge." Says Robespierre. "I like the republic. I want the Republic to stay forever. I will kill anyone who does not want the Republic." Oh, look. See Robespierre. See Robespierre kill lots of people. "Oh, this is fun!" says Robespierre. "I like being the ruler. I am making lots of people afraid. I will call my rule the Reign of Terror, because everyone is afraid."
Oh, look. See the people. Oh, see. The people do not like Robespierre. Come, Robespierre. Come to the guillotine. Chop, guillotine, chop. See the guillotine chop off Robespierre's head. Now Robespierre does not have a head. Now Robespierre can not rule France.
Before doing this project, I had learned the French Revolution at least 100000 times, and never remembered it, but now I still remember it after doing the project four years ago. It should be a requirement for all teachers of every subject to make their students re-write stuff Dick and Jane style.
It'd be a bit hard for math though. But you could say, "oh look. See the negative number. See the negative number underneath the radical. Oh, the radical does not like the negative number. "oh, you are irrational," says the radical."
The only thing is, after doing that project for history, I started thinking like that, so I can't imagine what it would be like after doing it all year for ever subject over 12+ years of education. You'd probably be stuck in Dick and Jane mode for the rest of your life, and everyone would start talking like that. I can imagine Obama saying, "Oh, look. Look and see. See my new health care plan." It would be embarrassing with him talking to foreign ambassadors like that, cause I think Dick and Jane is an American thing and the ambassadors wouldn't know what the heck's wrong with these stupid Americans and think that we're even stupider than they think we are now.
I don't actually know whether or not Europeans think we're stupid, that's just what I've heard. I've never had a European person come up to me and say "you're stupid."
I've always thought it would've been neat if Americans had stayed British and the Revolution had never happened. Then we'd have a queen instead of a president and Congress and all that. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with our government; I understand government about as much as an Orc understands dental hygiene. I just think having a queen or king would be neat, plus we wouldn't have to go through all the annoying presidential campaign advertisements. The British have been happy with a monarchy for about a billion years, so it can't be all that bad. Like the annoying peasant said, "strange men sitting in oval offices distributing health care plans is no basis for a system of government." Something along those lines.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Person of Interest
After spending about five hours writing a speech for communication class and then trying to re-learn Bach's Concerto in C Minor, my brain is fried. Another reason why it would be good for scientists to learn how to clone brains so that people can have extra ones, but that's beside the point. I didn't feel like studying any more tonight, so I watched an episode of Person of Interest with my auntie.
Person of Interest started airing I think September/October-ish of 2012. Unless it was 2011, I lost track. But since it started, I've seen about two full episodes, including the one I just watched, so I don't know what the heck's going on. Plus, like I said, my brain was fried, so I couldn't really follow it. Whenever my brain is fried, which it was on this particular occasion, it can only notice and absorb surface things. Like, for instance, when the police are chatting about where the dead body might be, I'm thinking "that dude is bald." Then when they're digging for the dead body outside in the snow, I'm thinking "that dude's head must be cold." I also noticed that one of the cops looks like Will Ferrell if his head had been slightly flattened after someone decided to drop an anvil on it from a considerable height. I was thinking about that through the whole episode, so I don't even know what that episode was about, other than a doctor getting poisoned and the Count of Monte Cristo trying to figure out who did it. Interesting fact-the Count of Monte Cristo was working with James Carter from Rush Hour. Except for in Person of Interest, James Carter's a lady. And her name's probably not James. But her name's still J. Carter and she's still a black cop. I realized that about halfway through the episode and I really really wanted to say "OOOOOH YOU KNOW HE DEAD!" through the rest of the episode.
What if Carter from Rush Hour played the Count of Monte Cristo? That would be weird.
Brains
I just had an EXCELLENT IDEA.
Some people cloned a sheep, right? So scientists are now able to clone things. What if they cloned BRAINS? They could grow brains in a lab and genetically fix them up so that one brain holds information about only one subject so that there aren't too many things going on in one brain. So I could have one brain for school-related stuff, one brain for street-smarts/common sense type junk, and one brain for everything related to Lord of the Rings. And while I'm using one brain, I could just stick the other ones in jars filled with brain-preservatives. OR scientists could genetically enhance brains so that they're smaller, but have the capacity to hold as much information as a normal-sized brain, so then one head could hold several brains at once, and I wouldn't have to bother with changing brains when I want to stop doing homework and think about Lord of the Rings. And then I'd have some sort of buttonary system on my hand or something with three buttons labeled "School," "Common Sense" and "Lord of the Rings," and all I'd have to do is press a button and my thought process would shift from one topic to the other.
O MY GOSH- what if instead of a buttonary system on some part of the body, we had remote controls to change the topic we're thinking about? Then I could steal someone else's remote, and if I really hated him, I could use it in the middle of a math test to make him think about Doctor Who or something. If he came to a question that said "
, I could get him to write "EXTERMINATE. THE DALEKS ARE SUPREME." Actually what would be better is if I got him to write "are you my mummy?" after every question on the whole darn test. That would be hilarious and I would die. Probably because he would kill me after the test, but it would be fun anyway.
Last year in my English class, we had a pop-quiz on the homework reading. I naturally hadn't done the reading, so I didn't know any of the answers to the quiz, but I couldn't just turn in a blank sheet of paper. That would've been embarrassing. So I just drew a cartoony picture of Gandalf saying "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" That was fun, but next time I think I'll just answer every question with "are you my mummy?" And I'd wear a gas mask to class. The professor would probably think I'm a psycho, but it'd be worth it.
I hope you've seen Doctor Who, otherwise none of this will make any sense whatsoever.
Some people cloned a sheep, right? So scientists are now able to clone things. What if they cloned BRAINS? They could grow brains in a lab and genetically fix them up so that one brain holds information about only one subject so that there aren't too many things going on in one brain. So I could have one brain for school-related stuff, one brain for street-smarts/common sense type junk, and one brain for everything related to Lord of the Rings. And while I'm using one brain, I could just stick the other ones in jars filled with brain-preservatives. OR scientists could genetically enhance brains so that they're smaller, but have the capacity to hold as much information as a normal-sized brain, so then one head could hold several brains at once, and I wouldn't have to bother with changing brains when I want to stop doing homework and think about Lord of the Rings. And then I'd have some sort of buttonary system on my hand or something with three buttons labeled "School," "Common Sense" and "Lord of the Rings," and all I'd have to do is press a button and my thought process would shift from one topic to the other.
O MY GOSH- what if instead of a buttonary system on some part of the body, we had remote controls to change the topic we're thinking about? Then I could steal someone else's remote, and if I really hated him, I could use it in the middle of a math test to make him think about Doctor Who or something. If he came to a question that said "
, I could get him to write "EXTERMINATE. THE DALEKS ARE SUPREME." Actually what would be better is if I got him to write "are you my mummy?" after every question on the whole darn test. That would be hilarious and I would die. Probably because he would kill me after the test, but it would be fun anyway. Last year in my English class, we had a pop-quiz on the homework reading. I naturally hadn't done the reading, so I didn't know any of the answers to the quiz, but I couldn't just turn in a blank sheet of paper. That would've been embarrassing. So I just drew a cartoony picture of Gandalf saying "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" That was fun, but next time I think I'll just answer every question with "are you my mummy?" And I'd wear a gas mask to class. The professor would probably think I'm a psycho, but it'd be worth it.
I hope you've seen Doctor Who, otherwise none of this will make any sense whatsoever.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Man of Steel
Who's excited for Man of Steel? I am! Normally I don't look forward to the newer superhero movies because they try to take away the goofiness and fun of it all and make it all dark and morbid and depressing. I enjoyed the first two Batman movies, but I wasn't looking forward to Dark Knight Rises cause they just don't compare with the 1966 Batman. I hate it when they try to make you feel sorry for the villains. You're supposed to hate the villain's guts and want the hero to totally bash their brains out, and then have a big ol party when they do, instead of feeling sorry for the villain, and then the hero accidentally kills him but not on purpose because he's too kind-hearted and then it's all tragic when the villain dies.
But I'm digressin here.
Man of Steel! I'm lookin forward to this one because Superman is such a cornball-awesome hero, I want to see how they try to make him "realistic." That'll be fun. I want to see what's his face who's playing Superman to try to give a "non-cheeseball" explanation about why it's so important that he wears tights and a big S on his shirt.
I never thought of Amy Adams for Lois Lane. I've seen a bunch of the old cartoons, and Lois was dark-haired with two dots in the middle of her face for a nose. Has anyone noticed how all fictional newspaper people have alliteration between their first and last names? Like Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Peter Parker, Polly Perkins, and Rita Skeeter (except for her names sort of rhyme instead of alliterate). The only reason none of anyone's names in Batman alliterate is because nobody's a reporter or photographer or anything newspapery. That's why it's cool that Amy Adams is playing Lois Lane.
I just looked up the bloke that's playing Superman and it's Henry Cavill who was Albert in The Count of Monte Cristo. He was British in that movie. At least, he had a British accent, but the character was French or something. That's all right with me, except for Superman's not British. I hate it when they do that, cause then I don't know whether or not the actor's British or American and I have to look it up.
I just realized something. There are no British superheroes! Unless I'm wrong, which I don't think I am. But I might be. I guess that's all right, because the British have Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Sherlock, and Doctor Who. We don't have anything cool except superheroes, crime TV shows, and mockumentaries. All the TV shows nowadays are either detective/crime investigation shows, or mockumentaries. When I grow up, I'm going to make a mockumentary of a detective show. Then I'll be rich and famous so I can buy the rights to Batman and Lord of the Rings and I can make a movie about Batman and Robin trying to destroy the Ring. OR I could buy the rights to Batman and Harry Potter so I can make a movie about Batman and Robin trying to kill Voldemort. OR I could buy the rights to Batman and EVERYTHING so I can make movies of Batman and Robin doing EVERYTHING. I could put Batman in The Notebook so he can kill both Rachel McAdams and Ryan Goseling by accidentally letting them fall into his vat of nuclear waste. OH MY GOSH I could put Batman in the movie The Fly because Batman actually has a BAT-FLY SWATTER which he uses to kill flies that bite people and make them sleep for hundreds of years. And then I could put Batman in the movie Jaws and he could use his Shark-Repellant Bat-Spray!
I don't think I'll have time for that though. I need to write an essay about bananas in Honduras that are contaminated with pesticide. It's due tomorrow, so I'll be getting back to that now.
Til' tomorrow then!
Elizabeth
But I'm digressin here.
Man of Steel! I'm lookin forward to this one because Superman is such a cornball-awesome hero, I want to see how they try to make him "realistic." That'll be fun. I want to see what's his face who's playing Superman to try to give a "non-cheeseball" explanation about why it's so important that he wears tights and a big S on his shirt.
I never thought of Amy Adams for Lois Lane. I've seen a bunch of the old cartoons, and Lois was dark-haired with two dots in the middle of her face for a nose. Has anyone noticed how all fictional newspaper people have alliteration between their first and last names? Like Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Peter Parker, Polly Perkins, and Rita Skeeter (except for her names sort of rhyme instead of alliterate). The only reason none of anyone's names in Batman alliterate is because nobody's a reporter or photographer or anything newspapery. That's why it's cool that Amy Adams is playing Lois Lane.
I just looked up the bloke that's playing Superman and it's Henry Cavill who was Albert in The Count of Monte Cristo. He was British in that movie. At least, he had a British accent, but the character was French or something. That's all right with me, except for Superman's not British. I hate it when they do that, cause then I don't know whether or not the actor's British or American and I have to look it up.
I just realized something. There are no British superheroes! Unless I'm wrong, which I don't think I am. But I might be. I guess that's all right, because the British have Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Sherlock, and Doctor Who. We don't have anything cool except superheroes, crime TV shows, and mockumentaries. All the TV shows nowadays are either detective/crime investigation shows, or mockumentaries. When I grow up, I'm going to make a mockumentary of a detective show. Then I'll be rich and famous so I can buy the rights to Batman and Lord of the Rings and I can make a movie about Batman and Robin trying to destroy the Ring. OR I could buy the rights to Batman and Harry Potter so I can make a movie about Batman and Robin trying to kill Voldemort. OR I could buy the rights to Batman and EVERYTHING so I can make movies of Batman and Robin doing EVERYTHING. I could put Batman in The Notebook so he can kill both Rachel McAdams and Ryan Goseling by accidentally letting them fall into his vat of nuclear waste. OH MY GOSH I could put Batman in the movie The Fly because Batman actually has a BAT-FLY SWATTER which he uses to kill flies that bite people and make them sleep for hundreds of years. And then I could put Batman in the movie Jaws and he could use his Shark-Repellant Bat-Spray!
I don't think I'll have time for that though. I need to write an essay about bananas in Honduras that are contaminated with pesticide. It's due tomorrow, so I'll be getting back to that now.
Til' tomorrow then!
Elizabeth
Calculate your Hobbit age
After reading Lord of the Rings about 500 times, I've discovered a few things about the rate of maturity of the average Hobbit as his life proceeds. For one thing, Hobbits tend to live much longer than Men even without the One Ring that gave Bilbo a long-ish life. Hobbits also come of age at 33, while we of the Race of Men come of age at the age of 18. From this data, I have devised a formula with which one can calculate his Hobbit age based on his Human age.
If we assume that the principle of cross-multiplication is accurate in deducing the relationship between two bits of data, then one's Hobbit age may be calculated using the formula
h/33 = m/18
which may be re-written as
h = 1.83m
where h = Hobbit age and m = Man age.
I've read a bit of the appendixes of Lord of the Rings, and from that I know how old each Hobbit is at the time when they first set out from the Shire. I've forgotten them all though, so I'm going to Google it. Excuse me. Thank you I've found it now. Bilbo is 128, Frodo is 50, Sam is 38, Merry is 36, and Pippin is 28.
If we apply the equation h = 1.83m, then in Man years, Bilbo is about 70, Frodo is 27, Sam is about 21, Merry is 19, and Pippin is 15. In other words, Frodo is 50 but has the maturity level of a 27 year old man. Pippin is 28 and has the maturity level of a 15 year old, which is why he's so darn cute.
I am 19 which means I'm about as old as Merry. That makes me about 4 years older than Pippin which would make it awkward for him to ask me out. Rats. Can't win them all though, I can settle for Merry. Pippin gets married anyway, which isn't mentioned in the book, but it says so in the Appendixes. It never says Merry gets married though, so he's a free agent. Except for I'm about two feet taller than him, which would be darned awkward.
Drat, now I'm running late for school. See yall later.
Elizabeth
If we assume that the principle of cross-multiplication is accurate in deducing the relationship between two bits of data, then one's Hobbit age may be calculated using the formula
h/33 = m/18
which may be re-written as
h = 1.83m
where h = Hobbit age and m = Man age.
I've read a bit of the appendixes of Lord of the Rings, and from that I know how old each Hobbit is at the time when they first set out from the Shire. I've forgotten them all though, so I'm going to Google it. Excuse me. Thank you I've found it now. Bilbo is 128, Frodo is 50, Sam is 38, Merry is 36, and Pippin is 28.
If we apply the equation h = 1.83m, then in Man years, Bilbo is about 70, Frodo is 27, Sam is about 21, Merry is 19, and Pippin is 15. In other words, Frodo is 50 but has the maturity level of a 27 year old man. Pippin is 28 and has the maturity level of a 15 year old, which is why he's so darn cute.
I am 19 which means I'm about as old as Merry. That makes me about 4 years older than Pippin which would make it awkward for him to ask me out. Rats. Can't win them all though, I can settle for Merry. Pippin gets married anyway, which isn't mentioned in the book, but it says so in the Appendixes. It never says Merry gets married though, so he's a free agent. Except for I'm about two feet taller than him, which would be darned awkward.
Drat, now I'm running late for school. See yall later.
Elizabeth
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Snow White and the Thirteen Dwarves
*Disclaimer: you will not understand this at all unless you, like me, are a Tolkien nerd. If you aren't a Tolkien nerd, read at my own risk of you thinking I'm a weirdo.
Once upon a time, there was an elf princess named Snow White. She is not mentioned much in either The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion, but she was a second cousin of Arwen Undomiel, daughter of King Elrond of Rivendell.
Snow White had an Evil Stepmother named Hilda. Hilda had in her posession one of the seven (I think it was seven) Plantirs in which she would look to see present, past, and future. Hilda would often look into her Plantir and say "Plantir, Plantir, like a ball. Who is the fairest one of all?" And then she would look into the Plantir, hoping to see her own face, but it was always the face of Snow White. This made her very jealous, so she summoned her gardener, Sam Gamgee, and ordered him to take Snow White into Mirkwood and stab the hell out of her with a Morgul Blade. Sam took Snow White into Mirkwood, but he didn't have the heart to stab the hell out of her with a Morgul Blade, so he told her to run for it.
So Snow White ran for it.
While she was running for it, she encountered a small cottage and decided to go in because she was a snoop and an idiot.
When she entered the cottage, she saw a table with thirteen chairs in one room, and in the next room she saw a row of thirteen beds. Each bed had a name on it. The names were Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Ori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Fili, and Kili. Snow White was tired, so she decided take a nap in the beds because she had no conception of the personal boundaries of others.
The cottage, it so happens, belonged to thirteen dwarves whose names were Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Ori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Fili, and Kili. They had just returned from defeating the dragon Smaug and were very tired and in no mood for intruders in their home. So, when they went to the bedroom to lie down after their harrowing journey, they were very disgruntled to see a weirdo stranger sleeping in their beds. I should also mention that dwarves and elves do not get along on principle.
"Darnitall, there's a ruddy elf in my bed." said Thorin.
The dwarves talked among themselves and decided that they didn't want a ruddy elf sleeping in their beds. So they took her off their beds while she was asleep and handed her over to the Hobbit Frodo to throw into Mount Doom because he happened to be heading in that direction anyway.
So Frodo threw Snow White into Mount Doom, and the dwarves put a sign outside their cottage that read "Trespassers will be thrown unceremoniously into Mount Doom." They were never bothered again by snooping females, and Snow White's Evil Stepmother got her wish and became the fairest elf-maiden in all the land. In short, it was a win-win, except for Snow White.
The Moral of this story is, "never barge into someone else's home without permission."
The End
Once upon a time, there was an elf princess named Snow White. She is not mentioned much in either The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion, but she was a second cousin of Arwen Undomiel, daughter of King Elrond of Rivendell.
Snow White had an Evil Stepmother named Hilda. Hilda had in her posession one of the seven (I think it was seven) Plantirs in which she would look to see present, past, and future. Hilda would often look into her Plantir and say "Plantir, Plantir, like a ball. Who is the fairest one of all?" And then she would look into the Plantir, hoping to see her own face, but it was always the face of Snow White. This made her very jealous, so she summoned her gardener, Sam Gamgee, and ordered him to take Snow White into Mirkwood and stab the hell out of her with a Morgul Blade. Sam took Snow White into Mirkwood, but he didn't have the heart to stab the hell out of her with a Morgul Blade, so he told her to run for it.
So Snow White ran for it.
While she was running for it, she encountered a small cottage and decided to go in because she was a snoop and an idiot.
When she entered the cottage, she saw a table with thirteen chairs in one room, and in the next room she saw a row of thirteen beds. Each bed had a name on it. The names were Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Ori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Fili, and Kili. Snow White was tired, so she decided take a nap in the beds because she had no conception of the personal boundaries of others.
The cottage, it so happens, belonged to thirteen dwarves whose names were Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Ori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Fili, and Kili. They had just returned from defeating the dragon Smaug and were very tired and in no mood for intruders in their home. So, when they went to the bedroom to lie down after their harrowing journey, they were very disgruntled to see a weirdo stranger sleeping in their beds. I should also mention that dwarves and elves do not get along on principle.
"Darnitall, there's a ruddy elf in my bed." said Thorin.
The dwarves talked among themselves and decided that they didn't want a ruddy elf sleeping in their beds. So they took her off their beds while she was asleep and handed her over to the Hobbit Frodo to throw into Mount Doom because he happened to be heading in that direction anyway.
So Frodo threw Snow White into Mount Doom, and the dwarves put a sign outside their cottage that read "Trespassers will be thrown unceremoniously into Mount Doom." They were never bothered again by snooping females, and Snow White's Evil Stepmother got her wish and became the fairest elf-maiden in all the land. In short, it was a win-win, except for Snow White.
The Moral of this story is, "never barge into someone else's home without permission."
The End
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Bible Movies
As you are probably aware, Easter Sunday happened a couple of weeks ago. Leading up to Easter, as you probably also know, there was a TV series called The Bible. It was about the Bible. I didn't see much of it, but I did see the bit about St. Stephen when he was stoned to death. This was one of those situations when I had to laugh in order to keep from exploding, but knew I might have to go to Confession afterwards.
St. Stephen was saying that he believed that Jesus really was God, and was getting a lot of booing and hissing for it. Then one of the booers and hissers started yelling about how Jesus' followers must be eliminated and ended with "we must stone him...WITH STONES!!" I almost went to the bathroom only not in the bathroom I was laughing so much. But I felt guilty as the dickens, especially because nobody else was laughing. I think they might have not noticed it though.
I mean, what else do you stone somebody with? I've tried stoning my kid brothers with pillows, water balloons, and pancakes, but none of those have worked.
In one of my religion classes back in junior high, we watched a movie called Peter and Paul. This movie was about St. Peter and St. Paul. At the beginning, it also featured St. Stephen and his stoning, except for they didn't really use stones; the special effect guys or whoever takes care of those things in movies apparently painted styrofoam rocky colors, so that when they hit the actor playing St. Stephen, they just bounced off. I guess that's why the dude in The Bible had to specify that in order to stone somebody, you need stones.
And I'm not trying to make fun of St. Stephen. He was an incredible man. I'm just saying, give the poor man a break and stop making horrible movies about him. He is in Heaven, you know, so he's got close contact with God and one day he might get fed up and go up to Our Lord and say "hey, Lord, about that bloke down there...I was watching him and he's a moron. You should probably give him a couple extra years in purgatory."
When I was a kidlet, one of my favorite parts about the Easter season was sitting down with the family and watching The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston. And by that I don't mean that Charlton Heston was physically with us when we were watching the movie; I mean that he was IN the movie. But anyway, a few years went by in which I didn't watch it, and then I watched it again when I was in my mid-teens and I almost threw up because it was so bad. And it didn't help that every time somebody touched Moses I kept thinking "GET YOUR STINKING PAWS OFF ME, YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!" It's especially bad when I compare it to the movie The Prince of Egypt. That movie was a cartoon and the ocean and the fire and the Angel of Death and all the plagues looked more realistic. In The Ten Commandments, the Angel of Death looked like a fart. I'm sorry to be gross, but it did.
One movie I haven't seen is Jacob and Joseph. That's a movie about Jacob and Joseph. Jacob and Joseph from the Bible, not like Jacob Black and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Apparently that's one of the worst Bible movies in Bible movie history. I wasn't there for this incident, but I hear that my Aunt Ann watched it with the folks and Jacob said this one line and Aunt Ann misheard it and thought that he said, "I am Jacob, son of Rebecca. I kill moles." Nobody knows what he actually said, but nobody wants to watch it again to find out.
I think mishearing-edness runs in the family. When I was about ten, I went to my cousin Lucy's Christmas concert in which she and the choir sang a song about "tidings of salvation." I poked my mom in the ribs and asked her, "why are they singing about dying of starvation?" Another time was when my big sister Mary was getting confirmed, my folks were sitting in the chairs in the choir loft because it was too crowded in the pews and I had an empty seat beside me. Right before the service started, a man came up next to me and said something like "can my wife sit here?" I didn't hear the first part of his sentence and thought he said something like "is anybody sitting here?" so I said "nobody." After neither he or his wife sat down in the empty seat, I realized that I must have said something wrong, and I couldn't get their attention to say that they could use that seat until the Mass was about half-way over. Very embarrassing. He must have thought I was some sort of tyrannical moron, being all like "BAHAHA!! NONE SHALL SIT HERE! HAHA!!"
I could go on about every single time I've misheard somebody and got all embarrassed because I made the wrong reply, but I'm not going to because I'm lazy and I want some ice cream.
Your servant,
Elizabeth
St. Stephen was saying that he believed that Jesus really was God, and was getting a lot of booing and hissing for it. Then one of the booers and hissers started yelling about how Jesus' followers must be eliminated and ended with "we must stone him...WITH STONES!!" I almost went to the bathroom only not in the bathroom I was laughing so much. But I felt guilty as the dickens, especially because nobody else was laughing. I think they might have not noticed it though.
I mean, what else do you stone somebody with? I've tried stoning my kid brothers with pillows, water balloons, and pancakes, but none of those have worked.
In one of my religion classes back in junior high, we watched a movie called Peter and Paul. This movie was about St. Peter and St. Paul. At the beginning, it also featured St. Stephen and his stoning, except for they didn't really use stones; the special effect guys or whoever takes care of those things in movies apparently painted styrofoam rocky colors, so that when they hit the actor playing St. Stephen, they just bounced off. I guess that's why the dude in The Bible had to specify that in order to stone somebody, you need stones.
And I'm not trying to make fun of St. Stephen. He was an incredible man. I'm just saying, give the poor man a break and stop making horrible movies about him. He is in Heaven, you know, so he's got close contact with God and one day he might get fed up and go up to Our Lord and say "hey, Lord, about that bloke down there...I was watching him and he's a moron. You should probably give him a couple extra years in purgatory."
When I was a kidlet, one of my favorite parts about the Easter season was sitting down with the family and watching The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston. And by that I don't mean that Charlton Heston was physically with us when we were watching the movie; I mean that he was IN the movie. But anyway, a few years went by in which I didn't watch it, and then I watched it again when I was in my mid-teens and I almost threw up because it was so bad. And it didn't help that every time somebody touched Moses I kept thinking "GET YOUR STINKING PAWS OFF ME, YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!" It's especially bad when I compare it to the movie The Prince of Egypt. That movie was a cartoon and the ocean and the fire and the Angel of Death and all the plagues looked more realistic. In The Ten Commandments, the Angel of Death looked like a fart. I'm sorry to be gross, but it did.
One movie I haven't seen is Jacob and Joseph. That's a movie about Jacob and Joseph. Jacob and Joseph from the Bible, not like Jacob Black and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Apparently that's one of the worst Bible movies in Bible movie history. I wasn't there for this incident, but I hear that my Aunt Ann watched it with the folks and Jacob said this one line and Aunt Ann misheard it and thought that he said, "I am Jacob, son of Rebecca. I kill moles." Nobody knows what he actually said, but nobody wants to watch it again to find out.
I think mishearing-edness runs in the family. When I was about ten, I went to my cousin Lucy's Christmas concert in which she and the choir sang a song about "tidings of salvation." I poked my mom in the ribs and asked her, "why are they singing about dying of starvation?" Another time was when my big sister Mary was getting confirmed, my folks were sitting in the chairs in the choir loft because it was too crowded in the pews and I had an empty seat beside me. Right before the service started, a man came up next to me and said something like "can my wife sit here?" I didn't hear the first part of his sentence and thought he said something like "is anybody sitting here?" so I said "nobody." After neither he or his wife sat down in the empty seat, I realized that I must have said something wrong, and I couldn't get their attention to say that they could use that seat until the Mass was about half-way over. Very embarrassing. He must have thought I was some sort of tyrannical moron, being all like "BAHAHA!! NONE SHALL SIT HERE! HAHA!!"
I could go on about every single time I've misheard somebody and got all embarrassed because I made the wrong reply, but I'm not going to because I'm lazy and I want some ice cream.
Your servant,
Elizabeth
Batman vs. Batman
I just realized, my blog is named after Batman, but I haven't actually said anything about Batman yet. That's very sad.
My brother Isaac and I have been having a feud about which Batman is superior: Christian Bale or Adam West. He roots for Christian Bale. Just to clarify, by "Batman," I don't mean just the character, I mean the whole set up with all the gadgets and villains and situations he gets in and stuff. I don't root for Christian Bale because Adam West is the best Batman in the history of every Batman that has ever, ever existed.
This is why:
1. He's able to take down his enemies with pure brute strength complete with POWS and WHACKS so that the audience knows what's going on, and he has brute strength without having to do 500 pushups every morning.
2. Everything is labeled, including the Joker's henchmen, so that we know what everything is.
3. Batman is humble enough to admit that he needs a sidekick.
4. Robin. enough said
5. The Villains can build elaborate death traps to kill Batman and Robin and don't submit to the villain-stereotype of using guns
6. The audience learns important lessons about justice, romance, and grammar through Batman's advice to Robin throughout the series.
7. The characters appreciate the power of puns
8. Batman is able to save people without their actually dying. except for that one idiot lady who tried to impersonate Robin and then fell in a vat of nuclear waste, but that wasn't Batman's fault.
I could go on, but I'm stating the obvious here.
I've always wish that Batman and Robin would have some sort of deadly encounter with fecal matter, because then Robin would get a chance to say "Holy crap, Batman!" If that happened, I could ask for nothing else in the world.
Christian Bale is all right, but he relies on his ninja skills and bat-throwing stars rather than courage, integrity, and a sidekick. If Christian Bale had Robin, they could've saved both Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes, and they could've done it without getting Harvey's face all messed up.
Conclusion: Adam West is the Batman we need, but not the one we deserve.
My brother Isaac and I have been having a feud about which Batman is superior: Christian Bale or Adam West. He roots for Christian Bale. Just to clarify, by "Batman," I don't mean just the character, I mean the whole set up with all the gadgets and villains and situations he gets in and stuff. I don't root for Christian Bale because Adam West is the best Batman in the history of every Batman that has ever, ever existed.
This is why:
1. He's able to take down his enemies with pure brute strength complete with POWS and WHACKS so that the audience knows what's going on, and he has brute strength without having to do 500 pushups every morning.
2. Everything is labeled, including the Joker's henchmen, so that we know what everything is.
3. Batman is humble enough to admit that he needs a sidekick.
4. Robin. enough said
5. The Villains can build elaborate death traps to kill Batman and Robin and don't submit to the villain-stereotype of using guns
6. The audience learns important lessons about justice, romance, and grammar through Batman's advice to Robin throughout the series.
7. The characters appreciate the power of puns
8. Batman is able to save people without their actually dying. except for that one idiot lady who tried to impersonate Robin and then fell in a vat of nuclear waste, but that wasn't Batman's fault.
I could go on, but I'm stating the obvious here.
I've always wish that Batman and Robin would have some sort of deadly encounter with fecal matter, because then Robin would get a chance to say "Holy crap, Batman!" If that happened, I could ask for nothing else in the world.
Christian Bale is all right, but he relies on his ninja skills and bat-throwing stars rather than courage, integrity, and a sidekick. If Christian Bale had Robin, they could've saved both Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes, and they could've done it without getting Harvey's face all messed up.
Conclusion: Adam West is the Batman we need, but not the one we deserve.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Pants
Hello again,
So I've managed to rip the seat of my pants AGAIN. I've done this on several occasions. The first time, my cousin was throwing something at me, so I squatted to duck and heard a ripping sound and when I looked behind me, I saw that my pants had split. The second time, I don't remember what exactly I was doing, probably something idiotic, but my pants split again. The third time, I was wearing very very old jeans to do some gardening for my uncle and then I suddenly realized that there was hardly anything covering my hindquarters, so I pulled my shirt down over it and told him that there was some sort of emergency thing I forgot to do and I needed to go home. This time, tonight, I was walking back to my car from class, which ended at 8 PM, so it was dark and I couldn't see that the gate through which I usually make my exit was shut. The way was shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. Sorry that's another Lord of the Rings reference, in case you didn't know. But anyway, I had to jump the fence and my pants caught on it and ripped in the backside. So I'll be buying new ones tomorrow.
I hate shopping.
If I was a caveman-person, I'd just have to kill an animal, skin it, cook it, eat it, and fix up the skin so I could wear it and wouldn't have to deal with going to the mall and trying to figure out what size I am and looking in the mirror to make sure it fit in all the right places after spending hours looking for something I actually like. Then my imaginary husband would come home and I'd say "does this dead animal make me look fat?"
I remember a couple years back when I heard about Lady Gaga walking around in a bikini made out of raw meat. That doesn't sound attractive, or comfortable, plus she could probably get E. coli or something, so it's a lose lose lose. In the 12th book of A Series of Unfortunate Events, Esme Squalor (Count Olaf's Villainous Girlfriend) has a bikini made of lettuce taped to herself. She should meat Lady Gaga HA HA HA HA.
All right that's enough of that. Good night!
Elizabeth
So I've managed to rip the seat of my pants AGAIN. I've done this on several occasions. The first time, my cousin was throwing something at me, so I squatted to duck and heard a ripping sound and when I looked behind me, I saw that my pants had split. The second time, I don't remember what exactly I was doing, probably something idiotic, but my pants split again. The third time, I was wearing very very old jeans to do some gardening for my uncle and then I suddenly realized that there was hardly anything covering my hindquarters, so I pulled my shirt down over it and told him that there was some sort of emergency thing I forgot to do and I needed to go home. This time, tonight, I was walking back to my car from class, which ended at 8 PM, so it was dark and I couldn't see that the gate through which I usually make my exit was shut. The way was shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. Sorry that's another Lord of the Rings reference, in case you didn't know. But anyway, I had to jump the fence and my pants caught on it and ripped in the backside. So I'll be buying new ones tomorrow.
I hate shopping.
If I was a caveman-person, I'd just have to kill an animal, skin it, cook it, eat it, and fix up the skin so I could wear it and wouldn't have to deal with going to the mall and trying to figure out what size I am and looking in the mirror to make sure it fit in all the right places after spending hours looking for something I actually like. Then my imaginary husband would come home and I'd say "does this dead animal make me look fat?"
I remember a couple years back when I heard about Lady Gaga walking around in a bikini made out of raw meat. That doesn't sound attractive, or comfortable, plus she could probably get E. coli or something, so it's a lose lose lose. In the 12th book of A Series of Unfortunate Events, Esme Squalor (Count Olaf's Villainous Girlfriend) has a bikini made of lettuce taped to herself. She should meat Lady Gaga HA HA HA HA.
All right that's enough of that. Good night!
Elizabeth
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
The Big Wedding
I feel like I've been talking about advertisements a lot, but indulge me one more time. I just saw one for a movie called "The Big Wedding." Apparently it's a sequel to the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding in which everyone loses weight (but not too much weight, cause they still have to be big) and decides to completely reject their cultural heritage. Actually, that wouldn't make sense, because Tula and Ian already got married and, so if this movie is a sequel, then who's getting married? Maybe Tula and Ian are halfway through their married life and decide that they're tired of being Greek and fat and want to start over not-Greek and just big, instead of big and fat, so now they have to figure out how to disrupt the time-space continuum so that they can go back to that year whenever the movie came out I don't really care, and then modify the memories of their young selves so that they think that their dream is to break from the Greek-ness of it all and lose a bit of weight before they get married. That would actually make the marriage more feasible since Tula doesn't like being Greek anymore, so she can just break away from her Greek family and won't be bothered about getting her Greek family's Greek approval of non-Greek Ian WITH THE BIG...LONG...HAIRS ON TOP OF HIS HEAD!!
I wasn't going to see that movie, but I think I will now that I know more about it. Except for I don't think I'll have time, cause Part 2 of The Hobbit is coming out in about 8 months, and I need to watch all the production videos and promos and trailers for that before it comes out, and I need to read the book again.
On a completely different note, my uncle in the next room is watching hockey and one of the player's name sounds like a disgusting swear word. Poor bloke.
It's kinda dumb, in my opinion, to give a movie a name that makes it sound like the lame version of a great movie from a few years ago. Doesn't The Big Wedding sound like just a lame version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding? That's like making a movie called "The Guy With Jewelry," and then people'll look at the title and say "oh that'll be just a lame version of Lord of the Rings." They ought to use different wording, like instead of "The Big Wedding" they could call it "The Fairly Large Sacramental Union of A Man and A Woman." I should tell you I'm a fan of traditional marriage and I hope nobody's offended by that. If you are, there's nothing I can do about it, just read somebody else's blog. I hope that wasn't rude. Now I feel bad. Anyway, I'd rather see a movie called "The Fairly Large Sacramental Union of A Man and A Woman" than a movie called "The Big Wedding." Maybe that's just me.
Your servant,
Elizabeth
I wasn't going to see that movie, but I think I will now that I know more about it. Except for I don't think I'll have time, cause Part 2 of The Hobbit is coming out in about 8 months, and I need to watch all the production videos and promos and trailers for that before it comes out, and I need to read the book again.
On a completely different note, my uncle in the next room is watching hockey and one of the player's name sounds like a disgusting swear word. Poor bloke.
It's kinda dumb, in my opinion, to give a movie a name that makes it sound like the lame version of a great movie from a few years ago. Doesn't The Big Wedding sound like just a lame version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding? That's like making a movie called "The Guy With Jewelry," and then people'll look at the title and say "oh that'll be just a lame version of Lord of the Rings." They ought to use different wording, like instead of "The Big Wedding" they could call it "The Fairly Large Sacramental Union of A Man and A Woman." I should tell you I'm a fan of traditional marriage and I hope nobody's offended by that. If you are, there's nothing I can do about it, just read somebody else's blog. I hope that wasn't rude. Now I feel bad. Anyway, I'd rather see a movie called "The Fairly Large Sacramental Union of A Man and A Woman" than a movie called "The Big Wedding." Maybe that's just me.
Your servant,
Elizabeth
Monday, April 15, 2013
More on Movies
Are you ready for this? I just figured out I can summarize the movies Sweet Home Alabama, New in Town, Leap Year, Cars, and City Slickers all at once in ten words.
Snotty city person hangs out with hillbillies and turns nice.
The End
Don't get me wrong, I do like those movies.
Good night
Snotty city person hangs out with hillbillies and turns nice.
The End
Don't get me wrong, I do like those movies.
Good night
Movies
I recently got hooked on the BBC show called "The IT Crowd" which is completely ridiculous, but awesome as heck at the same time. Now my parents have started watching it, which made me a bit embarrassed at first because I thought they'd think it was stupid and then they'd think I was a complete moron for enjoying it. Not that they would do that, they're actually very nice people. And they enjoyed it too, so we had a good laugh together.
For some reason I'm always heckishly self-conscious about the kind of TV I like and I'm always paranoid that when I'm watching something with my siblings my mom and dad will come in at just the wrong time.
Just after Harry Potter 7 part 1 came out on DVD, my big sister Mary bought it and we were watching it in the living room. We were watching it and everything was hunky dory, but then we got to that gross bit when Harry opens the locket and Voldemort comes out in the form of Harry and Hermione kissing like there's no tomorrow and apparently forgot how to wear clothes.That's when my dad (who hadn't seen the movie yet and so didn't know what was going on) came into the room, and he's like "WHA...?!"
That was one of the more icky parts of Harry Potter. Call me prude but I don't like watching stuff that isn't meant to be watched by anybody except maybe perverted morons. I watched the last two Twilight movies with my aunt a couple of months ago. After the first one, I had to go wash my brain and throw up, and if you know why then I'm very sorry for you, but if you don't know why then ask somebody else. I still don't see why Bella couldn't have just got a C section to get the baby out. That would have spared me watching Edward trying to rip the baby out of her stomach with his teeth. That was bloody awful disgusting. I need to throw up again. And I've seen Saw, Jaws, Braveheart, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre without even blinking. And I used to watch that one bit of Lord of the Rings when Aragorn decapitates that orc about a hundred times in a row in slow motion, so I'm usually all right with blood.
Anyhow, I'm done for the day and I want some tea. Plus I just finished the IT Crowd, so I need to find a new British sitcom. So much to do.
Cheers,
Elizabeth
For some reason I'm always heckishly self-conscious about the kind of TV I like and I'm always paranoid that when I'm watching something with my siblings my mom and dad will come in at just the wrong time.
Just after Harry Potter 7 part 1 came out on DVD, my big sister Mary bought it and we were watching it in the living room. We were watching it and everything was hunky dory, but then we got to that gross bit when Harry opens the locket and Voldemort comes out in the form of Harry and Hermione kissing like there's no tomorrow and apparently forgot how to wear clothes.That's when my dad (who hadn't seen the movie yet and so didn't know what was going on) came into the room, and he's like "WHA...?!"
That was one of the more icky parts of Harry Potter. Call me prude but I don't like watching stuff that isn't meant to be watched by anybody except maybe perverted morons. I watched the last two Twilight movies with my aunt a couple of months ago. After the first one, I had to go wash my brain and throw up, and if you know why then I'm very sorry for you, but if you don't know why then ask somebody else. I still don't see why Bella couldn't have just got a C section to get the baby out. That would have spared me watching Edward trying to rip the baby out of her stomach with his teeth. That was bloody awful disgusting. I need to throw up again. And I've seen Saw, Jaws, Braveheart, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre without even blinking. And I used to watch that one bit of Lord of the Rings when Aragorn decapitates that orc about a hundred times in a row in slow motion, so I'm usually all right with blood.
Anyhow, I'm done for the day and I want some tea. Plus I just finished the IT Crowd, so I need to find a new British sitcom. So much to do.
Cheers,
Elizabeth
Grooming
This morning I woke up because the alarm on my phone started making that EHHHHHHHH noise which was very annoying, so I turned it off and said "it's bad luck to wake a man while he's sleepin!" not that I'm a man, that's just how Mr. Gibbs says it in Pirates of the Caribbean, but that's beside the point. After I woke up, I decided to do a bit of grooming. That's unusual for me cause I'm normally all right walking out of the house with rat nests in my hair and my breath smelling like rotten eggs from hell. But anyway, this morning I borrowed my aunt's straightening iron and was trying to make my hair flat when I smelled something like burnt ear. Upon further investigation, I realized that the straightening iron had mistaken my left ear for a bit of hair and was trying to flatten it, which hurt like the dickens, so I pulled it off. Not my ear, the iron. My ear was still on my head, but it looked like that red stuff that grows out of the top of a chicken.
Even if I had been trying to straighten my ear, it wouldn't have worked because my ear is now even more curled up than it was before and bits of it are starting to come off. Maybe if it comes off altogether I can get a fake one to attach to my glasses like one of my mom's college professors. Apparently he had a fake ear that was attached to his glasses and when he got excited during lecture, he'd pull them off and shake them at the class with the ear still attached.
Speaking of fake body parts, I've always wondered if they ever run out of the wrong type. Like if a Caucasian dude lost an arm and went to the prosthetic people and all they had left were African American arms, he'd have to be part black.
If anyone happens to find out, let me know I'd be very interested.
Your servant,
Elizabeth
Fat
So I've been browsing around on the Internet, you know, that place people go to rot when they're bored, and I've seen almost nothing but those ads that say "lose 500 pounds in 2 hours with this magic pill thing" and then have a picture of the Goblin King from The Hobbit next to a picture of Audrey Hepburn. If I had a buck for every ad like that I've seen, I could afford liposuction and wouldn't have to bother with those ads at all. Not that I need liposuction. And not that I would get liposuction if I needed it cause it's bloody disgusting. What do they do with the fat afterwards? Do they polish the furniture with it? Melt it and use it to cook with? make sculptures out of it when they're bored? If anyone ever finds out, please let me know because it's one of those questions that occurs to you one day and nobody knows the answer and it gnaws at your brain for the rest of your life.
While on the subject of unanswerable questions, does anybody know why the heck Humpty Dumpty is supposed to be an egg? It never says why in the rhyme.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall/Humpty Dumpty had a great fall/all the King's horses and all the King's men/couldn't put Dumpty together again.
It's not there. Unless the words "humpty" and/or "dumpty" are words from a dead language and they used to mean "egg" or something like that.
Anyway, if you find out, please let me know.
Elizabeth
While on the subject of unanswerable questions, does anybody know why the heck Humpty Dumpty is supposed to be an egg? It never says why in the rhyme.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall/Humpty Dumpty had a great fall/all the King's horses and all the King's men/couldn't put Dumpty together again.
It's not there. Unless the words "humpty" and/or "dumpty" are words from a dead language and they used to mean "egg" or something like that.
Anyway, if you find out, please let me know.
Elizabeth
Tolkien Eureka Moment
I just had a thought. What if J.R.R. Tolkien had a son with the same name? Then his son would be J.R.R., jr. HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE??
O and JK Rowling's initials are one of the standard text abbreviations (JK = Just kidding). She should've given her kids initials like OMG and BRB and LOL and WTF if she felt like being really mean.
O and JK Rowling's initials are one of the standard text abbreviations (JK = Just kidding). She should've given her kids initials like OMG and BRB and LOL and WTF if she felt like being really mean.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Attention Asian Women
For the past month or so, facebook has been sending me weird advertisements with pictures of scantily clad Asian girls that say stuff like "these Asian girls DESPERATELY want boyfriends!"
Well I have good news for you Asian girls from the advertisements who DESPERATELY want boyfriends (I'm saying the girls want boyfriends, not the advertisements. again stupid language barriers). Youtube has been flashing advertisements at me with pictures of men with huge Godzilla muscles who are looking for girlfriends. And by Godzilla I just mean "big." I forgot that the real Godzilla wiped out a good chunk of Tokyo which is bad news for you, seeing as you're Asian and all. But these are just poor harmless guys on steroids who just want a girlfriend, so they probably won't try to disembowel you, if disembowel's the word I want.
Well I have good news for you Asian girls from the advertisements who DESPERATELY want boyfriends (I'm saying the girls want boyfriends, not the advertisements. again stupid language barriers). Youtube has been flashing advertisements at me with pictures of men with huge Godzilla muscles who are looking for girlfriends. And by Godzilla I just mean "big." I forgot that the real Godzilla wiped out a good chunk of Tokyo which is bad news for you, seeing as you're Asian and all. But these are just poor harmless guys on steroids who just want a girlfriend, so they probably won't try to disembowel you, if disembowel's the word I want.
Title
Hullo again. I just changed the title of my blog from "Free Nerd" to "Bat-Blog" cause I'm not really feeling "Free Nerd" and I'm in a Batman mood. so the URL is now "batlass@blogger.com" which is all right, except for when I read it it looks more like "batl ass" than "bat lass." don't feel like changing it again though.
Hello
If you're reading this, it means that you've discovered my blog written by yours truly. I've never written a blog before, or anything else much except for a few essays for various English classes, so you'll please forgive me if my writing is uninteresting, grammatically incorrect, or otherwise unfit for human consumption, as my best friend PG Wodehouse would put it.
I've decided to start a blog because I'm bored. About an hour ago I had an epiphany that told me that pretty much all I've done for the last few years is homework, sleep, eat, and watch TV, and I'm jolly tired of it. I shouldn't complain cause I've got a large family to keep me busy and I play the viola as well, but I haven't complained about anything for a couple of hours and I need to finish the day's quota of complaining before I go to bed.
I decided to call my blog "Free Nerd" because most of the stuff I'll be writing about will probably have something to do with Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, and other stuff that usually goes in the nerd box. Also I happened to be thinking about the song "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and I thought it was cool that Lynyrd Skynyrd has the word "nerd" in it twice. I don't know many Lynyrd Skynyrd songs but I'm always impressed when someone manages to have four y's in his name.
Not that Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter are nerdy. You could call anybody a nerd as long as they know everything about something. Like, for instance, if somebody knew absolutely everything there was to know about Jane Austen and her books, you could call her a nerd even though Jane Austen doesn't usually fall into the category of nerd material.
Notice that I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female. If you're female and were offended, I don't give a darn. I'm female too and I wasn't offended when I wrote that.
I just looked at the first sentence of the paragraph above and realized that it looks weird, because it sounds a bit like I'm saying that a person knows everything about the fact that Jane Austen is a female. English is too ambiguous. I've always thought that language should be written more like a math equation. Take the sentence "I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female." To make it more clear, I could have written "I assumed that (the person)who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female." I think you knew what I meant when I wrote "I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female," but the other way makes a heck of a lot more sense. Much easier on the brain and all that.
Anyway I've had to go to the bathroom for about two hours and I've got one more episode of The IT Crowd to watch before I finish the series, so I'm off.
Good night!
Your servant,
Elizabeth
I've decided to start a blog because I'm bored. About an hour ago I had an epiphany that told me that pretty much all I've done for the last few years is homework, sleep, eat, and watch TV, and I'm jolly tired of it. I shouldn't complain cause I've got a large family to keep me busy and I play the viola as well, but I haven't complained about anything for a couple of hours and I need to finish the day's quota of complaining before I go to bed.
I decided to call my blog "Free Nerd" because most of the stuff I'll be writing about will probably have something to do with Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, and other stuff that usually goes in the nerd box. Also I happened to be thinking about the song "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and I thought it was cool that Lynyrd Skynyrd has the word "nerd" in it twice. I don't know many Lynyrd Skynyrd songs but I'm always impressed when someone manages to have four y's in his name.
Not that Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter are nerdy. You could call anybody a nerd as long as they know everything about something. Like, for instance, if somebody knew absolutely everything there was to know about Jane Austen and her books, you could call her a nerd even though Jane Austen doesn't usually fall into the category of nerd material.
Notice that I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female. If you're female and were offended, I don't give a darn. I'm female too and I wasn't offended when I wrote that.
I just looked at the first sentence of the paragraph above and realized that it looks weird, because it sounds a bit like I'm saying that a person knows everything about the fact that Jane Austen is a female. English is too ambiguous. I've always thought that language should be written more like a math equation. Take the sentence "I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female." To make it more clear, I could have written "I assumed that (the person)who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female." I think you knew what I meant when I wrote "I assumed that the person who knows everything about Jane Austen is a female," but the other way makes a heck of a lot more sense. Much easier on the brain and all that.
Anyway I've had to go to the bathroom for about two hours and I've got one more episode of The IT Crowd to watch before I finish the series, so I'm off.
Good night!
Your servant,
Elizabeth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)