tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36353712533792094652024-02-06T22:18:01.868-05:00An EPIC BlogSo EPIC, we had to put it in capsThe Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-4041143112662269732012-01-18T06:53:00.001-05:002012-01-18T06:55:24.767-05:00One More thing.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page<br />http://questionablecontent.net/<br />http://xkcd.com/<br />http://google.com/<br /><br />SOPA will destroy the only remaining hub of free and uncensored activity in our corporate society. <br /><br />Do your part. Save us all.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-79347809321637564192011-11-20T17:14:00.004-05:002011-11-20T17:21:22.696-05:00New BlogI'm sorry blogspot. I've moved to tumblr. <br />It's not you, it's me! I just feel like... our relationship here wasn't going anywhere. <br />After what happened, I don't think I'd ever want to come back.<br />But don't be sad! You'll have plenty of people who'll blog on you all the time!<br />Look! One's even a writer! And there's a gamer girl! Or two! Or maybe even three!<br />I even have 22 people following <span style="font-style:italic;">this very blog</span> who love you and would never leave you. <br /><br />I'm really sorry. I wish I could make it less painful then it already is. <br />We'll always have these 86 posts, won't we?<br />...<br />...<br />I...<br />I understand. <br />If you need me... <br /><br /><a href="trainwriter.tumblr.com">trainwriter.tumblr.com</a><br /><br /><\3The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-28594820100576383642011-04-06T19:12:00.003-04:002011-04-06T19:56:26.716-04:00Girls on the internet.Whoah... 14 followers... I'm wondering how many are bots... and how many are pedophiles... and how many are dormant accounts...<br />Kidding. I love you guys. Come 'ere for a big ol' hug!<br />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.<br />The creator of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fv-gReOff5E&feature=feedu">this video</a> 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.<br />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?<br />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.<br />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.<br />"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?<br />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.<br />"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.<br />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.<br />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.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-64785063354721851332011-03-20T19:59:00.005-04:002011-03-20T20:57:01.175-04:00What 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.<br />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. <br />And that's where something really annoys me. I take 20 or so tests a month. And I get every. Last. One. Back. <br />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?<br />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. <br />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. <br />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.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-24860382147720921332011-02-05T18:13:00.003-05:002011-02-05T18:35:35.816-05:00Books.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. <br />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. <br /><br />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.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-26467067265177003602011-01-09T18:13:00.002-05:002011-01-09T18:18:28.335-05:00And explanation for my dissapearance.Boy meets girl. <br />Boy likes girl.<br />Boy to shy to admit he likes girl.<br />-hopeful optimism- <br />Girl doesn't like boy like that.<br />Boy blatantly ignores this. <br />Friend slaps boy across face.<br />Boy see's girl not interested for real.<br />-More blatant ignorance-<br />Fortune cookie says girl not interested.<br />Friend reiterates this. <br />Boy sad. <br />Boy hopeful for at least a friendship. <br /><br />Also: I got Minecraft. I haven't seen the sun in weeks.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-68899967600900659642010-11-03T21:05:00.002-04:002010-11-03T21:10:43.994-04:00Here we go.So I've hit the point in Fallout:NV where I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. I have to chose my loyalty, and have to consider what my effects my actions will have later on in the game. The issue is, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing. So I have about 4 choices-<br />-Become a Socialist (Mr. House) <br />-Become a Extreme Republican (NCR)<br />-Become a 15th Century Catholic (Caesar's Legion)<br />-Look at the Fallout Wiki.<br />One way or another, I'm an asshole. So chances are I'm just going to walk into Caesar's camp and shoot the bastard while I still have my sanity.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-43224758246730509592010-10-25T21:28:00.001-04:002010-10-25T21:28:32.388-04:00Fallout: New VegasIt's here. See you in a few weeks.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-71516563312163126542010-10-11T18:30:00.002-04:002010-10-11T18:38:20.701-04:00My plant wants to kill me in my sleep.Hello peoples. <br /><br /><img src="http://img52.imageshack.us/img52/4781/myplantisouttokillme.png" title= "I don't wear glasses while I sleep. This may be why my dreams are so foggy." ></><br />When I was little, my mother would tell me that if I played with her plants (notably <a href="http://www.ctahr.hawaii.edu/uhmplants/heart%20leaf%20philodendron.jpg">Heart Leaf Philodendrons</a>, which are essentially vines that hang down RIGHT BY MY SEAT AT THE DINNER TABLE.) they would slowly grow towards where I sit during dinner, and strangle me when nobody was looking. I never believed her, but I still feel a little nervous when I find a vine resting on my shoulder. <br />My mother has had these plants since college, and like one or two summers ago one of the plants got into a separate pot and took root. So I snipped them apart and ta-da! My very own plant. Sure, I could have just bought one but... what fun would that be? <br /><br />So on Sunday I brought in my plant so it doesn't die in the freezing cold (like my other plants) and it now rests by my bed. <br /><img src="http://img337.imageshack.us/img337/9810/pic1976.jpg" title= "This is my plant, my plant is amazing." ></><br /><br />Why do I have a cane? Funny story really. Oh well, maybe another blog. <br /><br />Note how I placed the long part towards me, and not the light, so it will grow AWAY from my face. <br /><br />Speaking of my face. I have decided to post another picture of me. With a cane. And a hat. And a creepy face. <br /><img src="http://img183.imageshack.us/img183/7599/pic1975.jpg" title= "If you look closely, you can see my conch being raped by a tiny bear" ></><br /><br />So this is also the last thing any stalkers will see before I ram my cane into their forehead. <br /><br />I hoped you enjoyed this! NOW COMMENT BEFORE I STOP DOING THE SHIT.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-47066859233038995302010-10-03T16:53:00.010-04:002010-10-03T17:31:24.900-04:00You have to burn the rope<img src="http://www.pixelate.de/uploads/images/you_have_to_burn_the_rope.gif" alt="If this image is down, please tell me in the comments so I can steal another one" title="I stole this image from pixelate.de, but seeing as there are 20 or so copies on google I really don't think anyone will care" /><br /><br />Nothing much to talk about except that I'm busy playing TF2 after the update. Gotta earn all those new hats right?<br /><br />So I've decided to talk about my travels around the internet. This week: The greatest game in the world.<br /><br />I discovered this game during my travels in the land of Youtube. The locals nearly worshiped it, each one with a shrine to it on their channel. I had to do many trials before they posted a link to it. I had to survive horrible walkthroughs, watch terrifying vlogs, and even participate in a "guest appearance" in a "The idiots of gmod" rip-off. I still wonder how I survived.<br />After passing the many, MANY trials the natives put me through, they finally let me into on of the game's many resting places; Newgrounds.com. I passed through the veil of a loading screen to a button that said "Click to start."<br />When my character spawned I awed at the amazing graphics. The complex controls were almost too hard to master, but eventually I got the hang of them. The weapons would have been WAY too powerful, had the enemies not been so tough.<br />I played for hours on end, crawling my way up to the final level. I quickly solved the maze, which lead to the final boss's resting place. Then I... well, I rather not spoil it for you. But it was the most EPIC fight in the history of video game fights, it took all my skill to defeat him. And I nearly died in the process.<br /><br />So here's a link to "You have to burn the rope", A.K.A the greatest game in the world. Just be glad I didn't put you through the trials like I was.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/432872">http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/432872</a><br /><br />I'm glad that you read this.<br />But how are you going to spend the rest of this day?<br />Maybe watch a video.<br />Maybe press refresh and read again.<br /><br />Yes it's over now.<br />I didn't want to write a longer blog.<br />This is it I swear it's true. Oooo Ooo Ooo Oo.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-29545831709278582512010-09-19T20:02:00.006-04:002010-09-19T20:09:48.013-04:00Busy Playing TF2. May I put you on hold?Okay, so I'm back in school. And most of you are too. So whenever you're faced with a project, always... well, this image should explain it.<br /><img src="http://img175.imageshack.us/img175/4664/progect.png" title="Times New Roman is the shit. I have this little pet peeve when people use the default Comic Sans and blue background on WMM videos." ></.><br />Any way... I'm busy playing TF2. Go back into it after I saw "unfriendly fire" on youtube. I think I'm getting better as The Pyro. <br /><br />Before I go off and disapper until next week. I'd just like to mention this "comic" thing that gave me inspiration for that chart up thar. http://thisisindexed.com/<br /><br />BTW: Who the hell knew that the Pyro is a girl?The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-80099739677122649172010-09-05T22:09:00.005-04:002010-09-05T22:50:18.097-04:00WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAASo I was trying to play Tf2 with this guy from this forum on this site. The thing is, I never play Team Fortress 2 (It's not my thing), so when I tried to run it I had to update it. Luckily, the update lasted for only 9 minutes.<br />Then when I finally get to the server page to join him, I couldn't find his server. I couldn't. Effing. Find it. So we agreed to go find a public server. Because I never play Tf2, I had no idea what server to pick from the 10,000 or so. So I began to browse and browse until I found one That didn't look like we were going to get kicked 8 seconds after we joined.<br />But as soon as the server loaded, my Anti-Virus decided to Scan my computer. Okay, so I told it to always scan at 10:00pm every Sunday, but not while I'm in the middle of the game! So I begin to panic about how my screen was frozen, so I Ctrl-Alt-Delete'd and tryed to start Task Manager...<br /><br />And Explorer.exe crashes.<br /><br />So I spent the next five minutes trying to get out of the void of blackness that is my screen, until explorer.exe restarted. When I shut my anti-virus down and returned to TF2, the game had glitched and I couldn't do jack. I was spectating, like before you re spawn, but I had not chosen my team and whatnot. When I tried to re-connect the server filled THE MINUTE I DISCONNECTED. FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE.<br /><br />So I said eff it. Told the guy I didn't feel like playing right now, and came here to bitch on my blog.<br /><br />So peoples who stumble across my blog, here's a funny comic a found on Deviant art by user <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/">Jollyjack</a>. I hope it makes you smile because it didn't make me smile!<br /><br /><img src="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs23/f/2008/014/3/c/How_to_play_Team_Fortress_2_by_jollyjack.jpg" title="Of course I didn't ask for permission! Asking permission is for people who care! I'm blatantly breaking all laws of edict woo!" />The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-32009875723261956672010-08-29T15:52:00.004-04:002010-08-29T16:55:12.290-04:00Sup Angel Dawg (Blag Entry #74)Hello Peoples!<br /><br />I've been putting this off for a while now. Since about 3 weeks ago I got the idea to upload a bunch of pictures of my dog, and tell you a little story about his day.<br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img822/6507/angel1v.jpg" title="Fun fact, this picture is a year older then the other ones" /><br /><br />My dog's name is Angel. He's around eight years old. Combined with his neutering, he's calm most of the day. We usually can find him in this position:<br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img843/1959/angel6l.jpg" title="I tried to get him to sit, but he kept lying down, damn heat." /><br /><br />Angel loves his walks, especially with my father. I, on the other hand, walk him down the center of the street and barely let him do anything. Here's us getting ready to go out: <br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img412/7723/wkangel4.jpg" title="If I let him do what he wants, he stops at EVERY. DAMN. TREE. AND. SNIFFS. FOR. 10. MINUTES. AT. A. TIME." /><br /><br />I bet you doubted me on the road thing:<br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img84/1493/wkangel5.jpg" title="He's really staring at the car speeding towards us. I probably should stop taking pictures in the middle of the road." /><br /><br />After our walk, Angel will take a nap until dinner time:<br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img810/4043/angel3u.jpg" title="Fun Fact: This is really a stunt dog." /><br /><br />Oh, before I end this entry, I just wanna say one thing, you see that tree over here? <br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img839/407/wkangel7.jpg" /><br /><br />Fuck that tree. <br /><br /><img src="http://a.imageshack.us/img837/8693/wkangel8.jpg" title="God Damn trees, converting CO2 into Oxygen." /><br /><br />I hoped you enjoyed meeting Angel, because he doesn't even know you exist! In fact, if you were to come to my house he'll bit your face off. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-75289465289526517992010-08-21T22:30:00.004-04:002010-08-21T22:44:36.978-04:00God Damn it.So I was looking up the correct spelling of Molotov Cocktail when I stumbled across the Columbine School Massacre. <br /><br />I just want to say, if you ever feel like the whole world is against you, like socity, school, and everyone else is not worthy to survive. Just break down to somebody. Don't keep everything in. Cry, sob, bitch, let all the anger flow out. Somebody will listen. Somebody always does. <br /><br />And all you people out there who think video-games are real, they're not. That's why they're called games. So don't buy illegal guns and go out killing people just because it's "fun" in a video game. Same with movies. <br /><br />I just felt that this shouldn't have to happen again. I promise a happier entry next week.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-85623958318697704162010-08-16T23:40:00.003-04:002010-08-17T00:01:28.049-04:00America On-line<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-nQ_91LR1-I5XjYcg7M4sjBmwHvsgYpvU07BAqUvMSN1POr5S9vhlNIXjPNIIrkl6QJfeSbycSBfcg113dvmk7iZoKBG38anRIZ2Gdp0PAB86xHkoxRNjE8jOHgEPaqPd0B-fpsixRGp/s320/aol.jpg" title="I remember this image from when I was a boy. It haunts my dreams. "/> <br /><br /> God. I remember when I was five, all we had was AOL. There was probably more but AOL is what we used. Aol and Dial-up. Damn, we even used their shitty browser too. I had to have a kid account, which wouldn't let me watch Youtube videos when I was 10. My email address was something unrecognizable by anyone. I didn't even bother to remember it. God damn those days sucked. I rather go home and watch Reba then look up anything on the internet. <br /><br /> Then, one summer, when I wanted to look up this one video that all the kids in school where talking about, and after hours of AOL frustration, I asked my mother "Mom, what is this Internet Explorer thing?" <br /> "Oh, just the same thing as AOl but worse." <br /> <br /> As I clicked that shortcut I was freed. I no longer was restricted by my kid aol account. After a year of browsing Anonymously, I got my Yahoo account and began trollin' up flickr. I soon spread to Youtube and the Turboj forums, and then on rockraidersunited. I soon became a blogger, and am now know on the internet as "TheEPICtrainrider" or just "TheTrainRider" in places where I rather not get trolled and the people aren't so nice. <br /> <br /><br /> I still remember the days when my reach was locked in by a block and a @aol.com. But now I look back and wonder if I could have gotten onto the internet sooner, and would it have made a difference. Would I have met the same people? I don't know, or care. All I care is that I can now run fire-fox with ad-block and have an actual internet and that you peoples who read my blog read my blog. So I ask you, what was your first browser/email? <br /><br />And think of all the Aol free-trail disks sitting in land-fills all over the world. Those babies are gonna laaassssssstttttt.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-76868919096582204922010-07-26T10:13:00.001-04:002010-07-26T10:14:43.730-04:00Nothing to talk about.Sorry. All I did was un-interesting stuff. So here's a VIDEO I stumbled across.<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7OUqUiZQxs4&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7OUqUiZQxs4&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-16452094284400927952010-07-20T20:28:00.006-04:002010-07-20T22:19:07.095-04:00Damn it people!SO I HEARD YOU LEIK VACATION?<br /><br />Yes. Last week I went on vacation. I'll spare you the details. All of them. In fact I'm not even going to tell you where I went. I'm only going to tell you very specific things. Like how I gave myself something to do on the day I had nothing to do.<br />As you know I have a gash in my leg. Well... that gash became a hole. And somewhere along the line the hole became infected. So around the Wednesday of my vacation I saw that it wasn't any better, Deeper even, so I rode over to the local clinic to get my leg checked out.<br />Short story shorter: It was infected, I have to PROPERLY bandage it (with actual bandages and cloth tape), apply a topical cream, and take antibiotics. Yay.....<br /><br />Good news is that I secured a lot of cool stuff! Like...<br />A HO scale GG1<br />A HO scale Boxcar<br />3 crushed pennies (the kind you put into the machine and crank the... crank)<br />A compass.<br />A tiny music box. (well not an actual box but what you find in the box that makes the music)<br />A jar the size of a serving of jelly. (Win.)<br />AND MUCH MUCH MORE!!!<br /><br />Other news:<br /><br />I have recently come to a conclusion. The Internet will never cease to amaze me.<br />It's so weird. I ether find something horribly graphic, (I.E. Blue Waffles. *shiver*) and then something cuter then I have ever seen. (I.E. The Mean kitty channel on Youtube) I might go searching for something (like a model train made from soda cans) and find something else that's equally awesome as what I was searching for (http://www.flickr.com/photos/23681077@N05/4393890506/in/pool-72787029@N00). Hell, I found a Rubik's cube teacher and got one of the greatest minds on Youtube. (Dan Brown)<br /><br />All I know, is that at the end of each viewing, I'm always staring flabbergasted at my screen with my mouth wide open thinking... What. The. Crap.<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4143/4814104070_65515c1515.jpg" alt="There is a picture here." title="Screw HP. Awesomeface Laptops Are The Shit" /><br /><br />NOTE: I have recently learned how to add titles to my images. I have also decided to abuse this power.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-7787744353478979582010-07-03T18:28:00.003-04:002010-07-03T18:59:25.558-04:00The InternetImagine.<br />Just a few decades ago, people were saying "Hey, I heard about this thing called the Internet!" "Now we can communicate by e-mail! No more letters!"<br />Now look. The internet is now more then a super highway of information. It has evolved into much more. The internet is a host to a infinite about of sub-cultures, each one adding to the grand scheme of "World Wide Web". If we needed to contact someone in Europe, we used to write letters and send them over the coarse of a few weeks. Now we can just send them a E-mail or an <span style="font-weight: bold;">Instant </span>Message. <br />Imagine how stupid the people who said "This 'Internet' will never be anything big" are feeling right now. Everyone uses the internet. You need to know something, you Google it. Imagine that pulses of energy connect the world together.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-67946418457217832010-06-28T10:04:00.006-04:002010-06-28T14:56:11.775-04:00Ima on a... Raft.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-WpVxHP_ZwszSSxwZToIIUIE3oKdd4S1aLFcYBTPxgEdNpAsanMt44WkQ6YS4vkdxd6KNU5SNyKHIhXa7ffNWYeqwndo3OaNDqS2uokiPJZJ-vsGpKrflHtVqH60Yswvkxj3SykPCNVI/s1600/Rafting.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-WpVxHP_ZwszSSxwZToIIUIE3oKdd4S1aLFcYBTPxgEdNpAsanMt44WkQ6YS4vkdxd6KNU5SNyKHIhXa7ffNWYeqwndo3OaNDqS2uokiPJZJ-vsGpKrflHtVqH60Yswvkxj3SykPCNVI/s320/Rafting.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487897409983638834" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.superiorsilkscreen.com/upfiles/cart/paddle-faster-banjo-music.jpg"><br /></a><br />So Friday, me and my father decided to take a short vacation. We first went down to Scranton penn. and then up to Port Jervis to go canoeing with my Uncle and other people we go canoeing with.<br />Scranton seamed to be getting nicer, even though though a bunch of the shops had shut down. I guess the combination of the Mall and the economic downturn killed them off. We went to a small hobby shop, which was nice, but a little small. And, of course, we went to steamtown.<br />For those who don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Steamtown is a Historic site that operates and maintains steam locomotives. Actually, that's the only reason we actually go to Scranton.<br />When we got there, we paid the $18 dollars for the both of us ($6 dollars entrance fee, $3 for the "Scranton Limited" trip, and times 2 for the two of us) and we set out upon the park. The only trips they were running was 4 "Scranton limited" trips. The Scranton Limited takes you up to the Lackawanna station and back. We tried to get the first trip, but the lady didn't elaborate on the boarding location. Little did we know that the train leaves at the roundhouse and not the platform. Don't worry, we caught the next one. It was a great way to spend 30 minutes. For dinner we went up to a restaurant "The Marvelous Mugs" which is one of the better ones in the area. Or out of it. What ever.<br />The next day, we went rafting down the Delaware river with my Uncle, my Fathers Friend, his son, My Uncle's Friend, His wife, their daughter, and her friend. My Uncle's Friend and his Wife would go in a canoe, while the rest of us went down the raft. We had some fun. Jumping around. Taking pictures. Me jumping into the water. Pudding pops. Ninja Stars. Getting stuck on rocks. Lunch. Fish jumping out of the water. Dead fish. Bugs. Snakes. Eagles. Nick-Naming. Me jumping off the raft and banging up my leg. Using a sock to stop the bleeding. Me jumping off a cliff with a bleeding leg twice. More blood. Sunburn. Quite honestly the best part of the summer! Now, if you don't mind. I've been away for my computer for to long and I need to start updating all the things that have built up.<br /><br />For those of you who are curious. And by that I mean nobody. <a href="http://www.nps.gov/stea/index.htm">http://www.nps.gov/stea/index.htm</a>The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-45003863306423667542010-06-16T19:03:00.002-04:002010-06-16T19:13:23.855-04:00Fear of Private Clogging<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiM3lDBs63ULj1izQ4drudlz6y_ZIff4NIjSW1AnfAr3096dmvsz2P0VEYOAljnSdfgT8IabsQWAUYlJzRyROZlet8Xgp3BkWepBBAohf6wmOatictAZgJEpxP1S1E6U7Mn8A8Oj5Kj9D/s1600/Flushed.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 68px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiM3lDBs63ULj1izQ4drudlz6y_ZIff4NIjSW1AnfAr3096dmvsz2P0VEYOAljnSdfgT8IabsQWAUYlJzRyROZlet8Xgp3BkWepBBAohf6wmOatictAZgJEpxP1S1E6U7Mn8A8Oj5Kj9D/s320/Flushed.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483513571881150546" border="0" /></a><br />Hello those-who-stumble-across-my-blag! I'm sorry for not posting a entry earlier, but that's because I've had nothing to talk about! Look! This entry is about clogging toilets!<br />Whenever I go to somebody's house, I try not to use the toilet. Ever since I was little I've had a real fear of clogging a toilet that was in someone's house. In my house, sure I can just go down and grab the plunger, and start pumping. In a public restroom, I can just flush and run. But in a different house, I have to go up to the owner of the house, tell them about it, have them stop what they're doing, go get the plunger, mess up their clothes trying to unclog my poo, and worse of all, we have to suffer the awkwardness afterward. I'm dead serious when I say that if I were to clog a toilet that wasn't at my house, I would cry. I'd just shutdown and cry.<br />That's why it takes me so long to go to the bathroom at parties, I need to stare the toilet down. Make sure it doesn't clog after I leave the room. I sometimes make note of the cut-off valves before I sit down.<br /><br />Well, I'm sure you probably don't want to hear more. So I'll let you get on with your life. Bye.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-79845252518409313562010-06-11T18:27:00.002-04:002010-06-11T18:47:44.719-04:00Not-So-Funny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYVfHUr-Wq0KvM6uQKk5C8p48JlcSdzWVgiKpJymWkgHrGNAhO21s9WSN1NDIzI1d7Y7E62fHCSeNO8qrnNYUfOuq9tknWnfc14VE7EvhxjP_-OYOfApm1Oljy27hzuSKBYB2LIA7Ytek/s1600/newsig(3).png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 80px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYVfHUr-Wq0KvM6uQKk5C8p48JlcSdzWVgiKpJymWkgHrGNAhO21s9WSN1NDIzI1d7Y7E62fHCSeNO8qrnNYUfOuq9tknWnfc14VE7EvhxjP_-OYOfApm1Oljy27hzuSKBYB2LIA7Ytek/s320/newsig(3).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481646596670973954" border="0" /></a><br />So a few of the kids at my school checked out my blog. And you know what they said?<br /><br />It's boring and I write to much.<br /><br />So you know what? F**k them. Those little motherf**kers can't read, or don't have the damn attention span to read, what? 3 paragraphs? F**k what they say, I'm better then them anyway. Do they have a blog? No. They like to post pointless statues and talk about boy/girls and friend each other on facebook. Do they put time and effort into their posts? No. Do they re-read each status? No. Do they blog? No. So I'm better then them. If they can't bother to read THREE PARAGRAPHS, or actually have to THINK ON THE INTERNET, then F**k them. They can all suck it.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-21204874053970475732010-06-02T18:00:00.004-04:002010-06-02T20:38:56.505-04:00My Pal James<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GGGXsWzmUOxJughlkB7gvjHGdVXLES3uQfjR3KUjMSDimFQnhSb5hnSEc7v23F7vlEFuMEXG663vOW1Qtoa_Q-Nq6iJmjfZizOstVi_oiPSlCgv-Hn2EURV56zgrILWbCWLA43dzaWWA/s1600/James_the_bagel_man.png"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GGGXsWzmUOxJughlkB7gvjHGdVXLES3uQfjR3KUjMSDimFQnhSb5hnSEc7v23F7vlEFuMEXG663vOW1Qtoa_Q-Nq6iJmjfZizOstVi_oiPSlCgv-Hn2EURV56zgrILWbCWLA43dzaWWA/s320/James_the_bagel_man.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478339630183714962" border="0" /></a><br />Well, I have a friend at school. His name is James. He should be reading this right.... now. HEY JAMES. WHAT DO WE HAVE FOR MATH HOMEWORK?<br /><br />James will one day be a billionaire Movie writer. So one day, I'll point to him on the Television screen and say to my kids "I knew that guy in High School. I was his friend. He was the guy who gave me loads of cash so I could pay my bail. He used to give out bagels at lunch. Real nice guy too. Me, him, and other peoples would do all sorts of cool things."<br /><br />Okay, enough with the dramatization. I'm not even sure we're friends. He's just some guy I talk to, but he's real nice. I've never seen him pissed off in my life. Now I hope after reading this he doesn't become mad or do something horrible like give me the cold shoulder.<br /><br />Well, another reason I made this post is because I'm messing with the blog design again. So don't adjust your computer screen, everything is alright. And thank you James, for not getting made\ at this post.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-4695271430166511342010-06-01T18:24:00.004-04:002010-06-01T19:40:14.189-04:00Opera Review<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://files.myopera.com/AOTEAROAnz/albums/553232/opera-logo%20z2.png"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 412px; height: 484px;" src="http://files.myopera.com/AOTEAROAnz/albums/553232/opera-logo%20z2.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />So yes, I decided to try out the Opera Web browser. So I thought "Why not make a review on my blog? I'm under qualified, have no life, and have only 4-5 followers with one reader! I'm a perfect for reviewing stuff!" So here you go.<br /><p> At first it reminded me of Google Chrome, the one time I used it. So, while looking at the fancy-pansy new page I noticed two things. One, it has REALLY smooth scrolling. Two, there was a little hints thing at the top of Opera site telling me that I can search using the navigation bar, so I searched "Dick in a box." The Youtube video loaded (what seamed) faster on Opera, but that might have been because I'm not used to it. But something strange happened. The video, text, and links loaded and worked, but everything else came 10 seconds later. This only happened once though. Later I tried portal Flash, which loaded a bit faster, but played the same. </p><p> After that, I decided to check out http://questionablecontent.net/ and ADVERTISEMENTS ADVERTISEMENTS ADVERTISEMENTS. At least ad_block had a ready made list of things to block, but this only blocks certain ones, the rest you have to 'Add'. A nice feature though, is the little blue thing that appears in your navigation bar every time you load a page. It tells you how much of the page is loaded. There are also TONS of other cool things. But I don't like how it's set up. I like Navigation/Address, bookmarks, and tabs. Opera is Bookmarks, tabs, and navigation. </p><p> Still, it is better then Aol, and can have a decent fight against Internet Explorer (if you have a mod to block all viruses). There are WAAAAYYY to many fan-boys for Google Chrome, Safari, and Firefox that it is impossible to find a non-bias test. Even I'm not sure which is better I would recommend it to anyone. Now, I feel like I'm cheating on Firefox. I'm going to go look up youtube videos on kittens with Firefox 3.#'s . You can get it here if you want this browser. <br /></p><p>http://www.opera.com/<br /></p><p>Image (c) Opera Software. I do not own it. </p>The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-18355309844441668512010-05-30T10:49:00.005-04:002010-05-30T11:36:26.390-04:00Ugh... To much to do...Hello there people-who-read-my-blag. Today I want to give you a list I have in my head of all the crap I wish to do over the next few weeks.<br /><br />1.Short Animation similar to Turbojuk's Mouse Attack.<br />2.Finish up my fan fic about LRR.<br />3.Better blog post then this<br />4. Add to my *book*<br />5. Stuff for school that we're doing instead of review.<br />6. Make a Solar-Jar (this one is more likely*<br />7. Make a video of my lip-syncing to "Still Alive" or "Never gonna give you up"<br />8. Burn stuff.<br />9. Finish My modification for Lego Rock Raiders<br />10. Piss of a guy at this forum by using horrible grammar and spelling<br />11. Consider switching blog sites<br />12. Walk my dawg<br />13. Moar Modifications of Lego Rock Raiders<br />14. Declare war on France (ha ha, Just Kidding...)<br />15. Clean my room<br /><br />About #11, do you think I should switch to wordpress? Or should I stay here on blogspot? Welp. See you later when I suddenly think of something to say.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3635371253379209465.post-54120196814595485132010-05-24T18:26:00.002-04:002010-05-24T18:42:16.574-04:00Rainbow Shotgun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4007/4637227684_a4f870327c_o.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 720px; height: 576px;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4007/4637227684_a4f870327c_o.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Just wanted to share this. Regular post in a while.The Last Train Riderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00209770597429643856noreply@blogger.com0