Sunday, November 20, 2011

New Blog

I'm sorry blogspot. I've moved to tumblr.
It's not you, it's me! I just feel like... our relationship here wasn't going anywhere.
After what happened, I don't think I'd ever want to come back.
But don't be sad! You'll have plenty of people who'll blog on you all the time!
Look! One's even a writer! And there's a gamer girl! Or two! Or maybe even three!
I even have 22 people following this very blog who love you and would never leave you.

I'm really sorry. I wish I could make it less painful then it already is.
We'll always have these 86 posts, won't we?
I understand.
If you need me...


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Girls on the internet.

Whoah... 14 followers... I'm wondering how many are bots... and how many are pedophiles... and how many are dormant accounts...
Kidding. I love you guys. Come 'ere for a big ol' hug!
Recently I saw a video involving a bra that was edited in a manner to look like 2 poke'mon balls. I'm not just saying this out of perversion as usual. There is a reason I'm mentioning this.
The creator of this video actually talked about how she was banned from a website used to stream live-video (like youtube but in real time! :o) for talking about how breast reduction is necessary for some women. She talked about how it was embarrassing for this to happen on a MALE dominated internet.
This reminded me of all the accounts of sexism I've seen on the internet. A tidal wave of sexual insecurities and male pride and plain old sexism I've gathered over the 3 years of my residence on the internet rushed to the center of my thought process. And what better way then to go on a tangent about it?
I try not to be sexist. I've accomplished this pretty well. Out of all the forms of greifing I get entertainment out of sexism and racism really aren't my cup of tea. It's sorta like kicking the paraplegic kid in the balls because he can't feel it. It's making fun of somebody for something they can't control.
There have been instances where I would be Semi-greifing somebody (like blatantly refusing requests to censer my potty-mouth) and somebody, who would be greifing with me, would tell them to get into the kitchen and make them a sandwich. I would defend the person I was greifing, simply because I don't believe in using sexism and racism to bother people.
"Get in the kitchen" makes me cringe sometimes. It's just a horrible phrase. It's not funny. It isn't clever. And there are knifes in the kitchen. I don't want to wake up with a cleaver in my crotch. Do you?
I've found the gaming community to actually be relatively accepting of females then anywhere else. (I'm referring to PC gaming, where most gamers have a thought process greater then 'nade spam.)It seams that as long as you're not a dick and play a good match you're in. Although, this brings with it an exception.
"Gamer girls" are one of the worst kind of trolls ever. Not girls who play games, they're cool, but girls who play games because they're attention whores. I've been in a Synergy match where a user joined (with a feminine username) and for 5 minutes asked everyone if they wanted to see her face. I'm not even joking. Females who refer to themselves as "gamer girls" aren't really into it. They can't even be considered casual gamers who play some Halo now and then. They are just girls who play games so that nerdy boys (such as myself, who sometimes watches Meekakitty with a bit of drool slipping from my mouth) shower them with compliments and requests for them to be their girlfriends and friend requests and free games and requests for nude pics and BLAH BLAH BLAH PLAY THE FUCKING GAME ALREADY GOD.
You know what? Next time somebody tells me that they're a gamer girl, I'm going to ask them what impact did "Half Life" have on the gaming industry, if they look at me with a puzzled look on their face I might just call them a whore and walk away.
On the contrary, if they tell me it changed how games where made, making them more immersive, more detailed, actually telling a story instead of just endless hallways with monsters... I might just ejaculate a little bit.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

What can I do with all these effing papers.

Well I feel like shit. Well... less shitty then the shit I've felt when my life turned to shit for a few shitty days, but I still feel like shit. I'll eventually get over it. Life moves on, and as the 20 or so people who I've asked said life does get better. So why not just bitch about other things completely unrelated to my temporary sadness.
As most of you know, I'm a student. I go to school in the morning and come home at night. I learn for a few hours, do some work, then do some homework when I return to my little cave of solitude. I take tests and do projects.
And that's where something really annoys me. I take 20 or so tests a month. And I get every. Last. One. Back.
I can understand that some children want to bring back their good grades for their parents to look at, but I usually get good grades, thus my parents expect it and I don't get a pat on the back unless I ask for it (not to say I WANT a pat on the back). So when I get these papers back, I just throw them in my bag. They marinate there for a week until it builds up enough that I finally throw them all out. What a waste right?
I've started to just toss them as soon as the teacher looks away. Projects are even worse. Who the hell wants to carry a poster-board home? Fuck that. I toss it out on the way out of the school.
To be honest I think there should be a recycle center. A place where kids can drop their old poster-board for use by other students. A bit a scratching off some tape and WHAM good as new. Save our landfills. Booya.
To deal with the paper is simple: we use it to insulate our underwear. I can't tell you the number of times I've left my fly open and I lose all feeling in my happy place.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


You know, books are a great metaphor for friendship. You usually find them by coming across them at a shop, or another friend recommends them. Then you start out, carefully treading around each other trying to get each others boundries. You slowly move in with curiosity to see who they really are, and if you actually like them. And most of the time you do. So you two head off together gaining trust and experience. You're consoled by your friend, and by a book. They give you strength when your heart is feeble, they give you love when your heart is broken. They bolster your spirits when your feel weak, and they give you advice when your mind's gone blank. Sure, now and then you may argue. Disagreeing on how things should be done; leaving both parities exhausted. So you put your book to the side for a bit and play some TF2 to blow off some steam. And like a good friend, you'll always pick up a good book again.
The plot rises up, and you're soon engulfed in a massive adventure, the big one. You reach the height of the book and explode. Laughter and sadness and joy and anger all flow into one moment when everything comes together and you and your friend are at the best time of your lives. But then things slow down. And your lives grow on, and away from each other. And then you look at the pages and see the number of pages left shrink. So you talk. Talk about what's going to happen and if everything is going to be alright. And it is. Just you're not going to be with that person anymore. Finally, you break out into tears when you hug your friend and read the last paragraph of your book, before they board the train to forever. They won't come back, they shouldn't come back. Sequels are unnecessary for something as good as that friendship, the most you can do is see each other over coffee and talk about memories. Then you read the last sentence as the train pulls away and watch as it travels into the distance as your eyes move over the final words: The end.

Then you must pick up a new book. And trust me. They're plenty more books left to read, even if they're not THAT book, they're still good ones. Ones with their own plot and flavor of friendship. And they'll end too. But you'll always have the storys you read, they can never take the memories from you. Unless you're apart of some loony government conspiracy or suffer head trauma. In which case you should consult a doctor or perhaps a physiologist.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

And explanation for my dissapearance.

Boy meets girl.
Boy likes girl.
Boy to shy to admit he likes girl.
-hopeful optimism-
Girl doesn't like boy like that.
Boy blatantly ignores this.
Friend slaps boy across face.
Boy see's girl not interested for real.
-More blatant ignorance-
Fortune cookie says girl not interested.
Friend reiterates this.
Boy sad.
Boy hopeful for at least a friendship.

Also: I got Minecraft. I haven't seen the sun in weeks.