Wednesday, 26 November 2014

Superhero camp woman

A couple years ago I went to this superhero camp: (I was never cool, y'all.) 
I was the only female specimen in the entire camp. Of course, with my species threatened I decided to mark my territory. (KIDDING. KIDDING.)
I was shunned by the entire cult of pre-teen boys who enjoy reading books about buff men in spandex.

Then he came along. He was a stalky, chubby little boy. Now, not sure he was aware of the territory he was already in, because any other less creepy pick-up line would have worked. Such as:
"Hey, you look like you peed your pants can I help you to the nearest bathroom"
"Hi. You're a woman, right?"
Or this one, this one is very original and never used before:
"Hi"

Instead this boy decided to use this:
Him: Wuts a preety gurl like you doin' all alone?
Me: I dunno.
Him: Do ya have a boyfriend?
Me: No.
Him: Well, I used to have a girlfriend and well, she cheated on me wif mah best friend. They were french kissing on the stairs and I caught 'em it was terrible.
The camp director then comes and asks us how we're doing, and the guy replies:

"Oh nothing, just telling this girl about how my girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend by french kissing on the stairs."
The camp director just kinda stood there with a look of horror until I finally said:
"Yeah..um. I don't really know this guy" 

The reasoning for this is because I left out one very important detail.
He was eleven.

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Omg guyz we reached 2K

2,000! Yes! Man that's a lot of views, I'd like to thank everyone who takes time out of their life to waste their time here. That's awesome. And also a huge waste of time, get back to work! In short, I left a survey on the blog to see what kind of content y'all would like to waste your time viewing!
And in celebration of this I wanted to do something special, so make sure you vote for whatever you want and I shall do the one with the highest votes.
But I need votes so you can turn this:

Into this:

Still creepy as heck, but at least you can see the awesome dentist work shown above^
No that is not a plus side. Y'know what. Just vote, and I'll never show this meme again..
But really, I just wanted to thank everyone because it's awesome that people want to see my opinions on stuff. That also means my embarassing stories have been read by 2,000 people. Anyways, I am rambling on, as Led Zeppelin once said.

Chicken war. Also, did you know Chickens sounds cooler when you spell it as "Chiken"

I had a dream last night, and for those of you wondering, no I have not died. I'm still here, tripping over things, walking around with my fly down, etc.
So here it is, my nightmare.

We live in an apocalyptic world. A totalitarian government runs it all (Hehe, I see you Fox news.)
Our parents decide to take a trip to this place between Edmonton and Mexico. (Don't ask)
We take this public bus, and it's filled with people obsessed with chickens. Everyone has baskets of live chickens. So in fear that I will get my laptop stolen, I put in my bag. We arrive at this place and it's rustic as hell. We walk around, and there's nobody. Just barrels like those ones you see in movies. Not necessarily filled with anything, just there. Probably all the poop from the godang chickens everywhere.
Across the horizon is a town filled with chickens. I mean there is a frigen tornado of it. Beats sharknado any day. So we walk to our hotel room. (Now you must understand this chicken town is not safe). We hear a bunch of soldiers running from across some houses, and there is an elevator to the hotel. But some damn chickens are blocking it! So my dad shoves them chickens out and the elevator opens. We get to our room, and late at night we hear gunshots. Turns out there's a secret society that tries to get rid of any of the guests that come to chicken town. In short, the hotel owners were behind it, and some crazy way my dad and I managed to get our family back on the bus filled with chickens and survive. The end.


It taunts me.

Thursday, 30 October 2014

AN EPIDEMIC OF AMBITION

Every day I wake up with ambitions bigger than myself: Becoming a human rights lawyer, publishing a book, fighting for the rights of those without them.
 People always ask me why I have these ambitions, especially at a young age. And the answer is simple:
Why not?
What are we living for if it's not to make the world better than it was yesterday? So many of us take every day for granted, the privileges we have soon thought as nuisances.
Something we take for granted so much is having a voice. I'm sitting here by my computer screen typing out what I think, and I can still do it without taking a bullet to the head. I have a right to speak my mind. And so should everyone else on this planet. (Sorry Aliens).
What I'm saying here is, don't ever let anyone tell you you're too ambitious. Because ambition is what fuels this world.
Every day I see this world desperate for change, getting to the point where they care to do nothing at all. You can do anything you want! If it takes you halfway across the world to get there, it doesn't matter, because what else are we living for other than doing good? So today I ask you one question:

What do you want to do?

It's a simple question. Do what you want, because the world needs more ambition. Step on the peddle and fuel this world that we live in. Inspire. Ambition is contagious so let's start an epidemic.
An epidemic of ambition. Let's be known as the generation that changed it all for the better!

So now I ask,
WHAT WILL YOU DO?

WHY. PEOPLE, WHY.

I never got this. Why do people lowride? Because quite frankly, looking like your torso is detached from your butt-crack is not something I will look at and say:
"Wow, that looks so attractive"
Because if you think pants are supposed to be worn by your ankles or knees, well, what's the easiest explanation to that? They're not.
So, people: Please wear your pants. You're a buttcrack away from becoming a streaker.
Thanks,
A concerned sane person.

Tuesday, 21 October 2014

Fake baby?

I was in McDonald's today, and everything was good with the world. Besides the fact  I was eating, y'know, chicken feet..
But that's besides the fact. We were having a nice greasy meal, when this mom and her three children walked in. She had one baby slung across her shoulder, and a little girl holding the other baby. She stood in line, waiting to order for about 5 minutes. Until I came to the stunning realization that none of her babies except for the child were moving. The baby just stood there, starring into space.
I casually walked over to to the McDonald's menu and glanced at the baby. Still frozen. Not sure if she left the baby in the freezer or something, because it looked pretty darn real. And why would a woman bring two fake babies to a restaurant?
Can a fake baby expert please tell me? I am genuinely confuzzled at this predicament.
So then, she proceeds to take a seat by a table, and propped up a pink baby seat. She placed the baby by the window, and it was starring out the window. On our way out, I glanced at the baby again, and it was a doll. They were all dolls except for the little girl. Unless they make them that real looking.
I won't discriminate against her doll-child culture, since I'm kind of like that with my books, mmmm paper. Wait, I don't think people talk about their children like that..
"Mmm..skin"  Yeah, that doesn't sound like a motherly thing. Unless your mom's a cannibal. I'm getting off topic.
Anyways, can a real-person-but-not-quite-expert explain this? Thank you, sir/Ma'am, may you be blessed with many fake babies under the golden arches.

Monday, 20 October 2014

Flappy Bird and Books

I had the priviledge to go to a writing festival the other day, and I know, it sounds boring to our demographic. But I also met someone who inspired me to write again, a very talented author, Kim Thuy. So i'll dedicate this weird blog post to her. Thank you, Kim. 
Our generation is pretty illiterate. Not too many people care about actually picking up a book. I know I'm gonna sound like quite the bummer, but really, there's so much more we can learn than just by reading an article on how much this generation reads.
Hence this article. 
It also ties into how much our generation doesn't want to do anything, and quite frankly, that's pretty sad. We don't all know what we want to do, with the pressures of society, but sitting on your phone playing flappy bird isn't going to help the matter.
(And by the way, "Got 100 on flappy bird" doesn't look great on a resume)

You don't need to become Kim Kardashian's plastic surgeon, but you can find something that makes your life line up perfectly. Something you enjoy. Maybe taking chances and learning about great people can help you out.

So whatever it is you want to try, the stupidest thing it may sound like, give it a go. (Don't say Professional Flappy Bird Player, I mean, why is a bird with botox jumping through tubes? That's creepy stuff, man)

Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, it's never too early to get up and do something new or interesting. 
The moral of the story here is:
Don't play flappy bird.