I just danced around my room to Nikki Cleary's rendition of "Walking on Sunshine" and various Justin Timberlake and S Club 7 songs for a whole forty minutes. I ought to do that sort of thing more often.

Although short on funds, I decided to "fuck it all to hell" and buy the Futurama season one box set. After watching only half an episode, I almost cried because I forgot how much I love that show. And because I love to brag about stupid crap, I decided to see if I could dig up the only moment of glory I've ever had. GET READY, KIDDIES!! HERE COMES A HEAPING PILE OF FLAMING GLORIOUS SHIT!! STRAIGHT FOR YOUR FACE!!

Question Satsuka: Do you plan on merchandising "Futurama"? I want action figures!!!
Matt_G There are many merchandising plans in the works, but sadly, no action figures.
Matt_G No. . . for you, we'll do action figures.
Matt_G (Smile)

That was from a live chat with Matt Groening the day Futurama premiered, I think. I was so happy I just about peed myself silly. So now everyone has me to thank for Futurama action figures.

today's diet: chocolate, peanut butter/white chocolate, caramel apple, cashews, honey roasted cashews, giant ham sandwich, butter, a slice of cheese, a frozen banana.

I HATE MY LIFE I HATE MY LIFE I HATE MY LIFE.

i am going to die before i reach my twenties.

you know what amazes me sometimes? the fact that a movie like "junior" ever got the greenlight. i just can't help but imagine a bunch of guys in a room pitching movies at each other, and one of them goes, "hey... let's make a movie where a MAN gives BIRTH!!" everything goes silent before a wave of benevolent praise cascades throughout the room. then, suddenly, one of them shouts, "better yet, let's make it ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER giving birth!!" and then, a cry of "and let's put danny devito in it, too!" rises from the creative turmoil. "women will love it! they'll feel like they can finally connect that gap between themselves and men!" they shout. "and guys will love it because arnold is MANLY!" oh yes. everyone will love it. because everyone really wanted to think about a pregnant arnold schwarzenegger. that's exactly the thought that needs to be planted in the minds of millions for decades to come.

and then, in the months following, money is spent on this project and it is made. and not once... NOT ONCE does the thought "wow, this movie is really god awful. maybe we should just stop" cross anyone's mind. no. they just kept going. spending more and more money and then ADVERTISING IT before finally unleashing it, traumatizing people like me for years. i saw half that movie when i was around eight and i still haven't forgotten it.

the world can be such a baffling place.

i gave birth to the word "faggort" tonight. i am proud.

my bed is infested with ants and i can't figure out where they're coming from. do they just materialize and bite me? little fuckers. i'll squish them all with my massive ass while i sleep.

i am becoming more and more broke but i somehow must muster (must muster..?) enough money to pay for radiohead and aquabats tickets. and potentially white stripes but let's face it, i can't afford anything more than two dollars anymore. unless it's the cats don't dance dvd... in which case, i buy away!

i ate a caplico stick the size of my arm and so many muscat gummies that i rolled around moaning for awhile (but by no means in a hot or sexy way, mind you) and then i sat down and realized i could grab my stomach WITH MY HANDS AND HOLD IT. oh my god i hate my life. send me hate mail and make me go to the gym, or at least stop me from eating kraft macaroni and cheese. it's getting way out of hand.

maybe i could join the orange county fair as the new premier attraction; "the amazing and terrifying fat albino with parkinson's disease, an enormous head, a bottomless pit for a stomach and body hair like a yeti". people will walk for miles just to witness my horror.

... i just realized that because of the previous two sentences, no one will ever love me again.

sniff. i am especially whiny tonight for someone who has eaten nothing but japanese snackfood and tacos all day. but i guess that's my problem.

senior pictures tomorrow! woopee. i can hardly wait...

LOVE TEEN TITANS.

LOVE IT LIKE YOU'VE NEVER LOVED ANYTHING BEFORE.

AND THEN NEVER LOVE ANYTHING ELSE EVER AGAIN.

HOLY SHIT.

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.

HOLY JESUS FUCKING SHIT.


....


... i... i love teen titans.

pps... if anybody talk bad bout the dirty south...

what you gonna do?

act a fool.

ps... guys aren't as bad as i thought they were.

life is surprisingly good! i'm drawing a lot and having a lot of fun not having to worry much about anything. ees niiice.

i want to grow up to be ludacris. if i could rap like that man, i would be unstoppable. but i figure... nothing's impossible. so why the hell not? why can't i be like luda? i mean, besides the fact that i'm white like death. but maybe i'll wake up one day and i'll be black. i can only hope.

tell me what you gonna do?

act a fool.

good god radiohead makes my head better. the new cd is all sorts of fantasmical good and i am quite pleased with it. tom yorke is a lovely man who only blinks one eye, and i love him for it.

my faith in humanity has been somewhat restored because today, my wallet was found after i thought it had been stolen at SAT testing at a local, very "ghetto" school. twenty dollars still in it!! woo!

hold on, i need to go to the bathroom.

okay, i'm back.

i hate blogs because i can never really write what i want to write in them, you know? cuz someone will see it. therefore i must be vague when i need to complain about something to myself here and it never quite leaves me satisfied. oh well. here i go anyway.

i hate boys. men. guys. hairy smell monsters with flesh logs protruding from their nether regions. you decide what to call them. either way i hate them all. you hear that? all you out there can die except for you and... oh, i guess you. best the rest of you can suck it. or at least let me know what is so horribly wrong with me.

grr.

my head is seized by some sort of misery-inducing pressure in my sinuses and it's driving me a little crazy. this entry is especially whiney. sorry.

Never in my wildest fantasies would I have ever seen myself hanging on the edge of my seat at the movies, huddled in agonizingly wonderful anticipation with tears in my eyes and a stupid grin on my face as I think to myself...

"Ooooh, that is one bad ass motherfuckin' fish right there."

Finding Nemo was beyond phenomenal. I mean, I have always been a huge fan of Pixar. But nothing... NOTHING... could prepare me for the next installment in a series of non-stop ass kicking the beautiful, wonderful, gloriously god-like people of Pixar animation have churned out. I don't know how they do it. I don't know what sort of divine world these people come from. But they are geniuses, all of them. I want to walk up to their studio with nothing on but a toga made out of an old stained bedsheet, and then fall to my knees at the door and kiss the holy ground. Pixar studios is my goddamned Mecca. It is the holiest of lands. Fuck Palestine. The world should be waging war over that small chunk of establishment where animation marvels are made. However it would be a silly war, fought with nerf guns and those stretchy sticky hand thingies that you fling out and hit people with, and they usually come in those little eggs in those vending machines at the super market. Pixar, thank you. I had the crappiest day today and Finding Nemo made me so happy to be alive. Thank you so much. I love you.

I wanted to run out of the theater screaming and crying in pure bliss when I saw the trailer for The Incredibles. I can't even say how excited I am. I'm scared. I'm SCARED of it. I can't imagine anything better than what I've seen from these people and yet I know it's coming. It's terrifying but the best thing ever at the same time. I love you, Pixar. I love you more than pie.

... which is saying a lot.

Prom is tomorrow. Wonder how that'll go...

oh my GOD. so like, i haven't updated this thing in years.

so much has been happening that i'm not even going to start reciting every interesting bit of information that has happened to me in the past few months. it's not worth the time. or the pain in my nubby fingers.

i can tell a funny story, though. a pigeon came into my work and then started flying into the window because it was freaking out. i was freaking out, too, because i'm sitting there with a broom in hand and stephanie laughing her ass off and calling me stupid for letting the thing in. then, some guy came in and asked for some towels, grabbed the pigeon, and let it out. then he knocked over an ENTIRE TRAY of peanut apples and walked out. i was like, dude, jesus. but i couldn't charge him because he DID get rid of pigeon nightmare what came from heck.

... have i even mentioned on this thing that i got a job? well, whether i did or didn't, i got a job at the rocky mountain chocolate factory downtown. i got it back in like, february. i'm too lazy to look up when i last updated this blog thingy.

i'm working on a new site layout. trying to, at least. i seem to have lost my ability to draw. i'm so sorry. i'm a worthless sack of flesh.

instead of doing homework and writing shitty essays and whatnot, i keep making things like this.

i'm scared of what i've become.

rock your body, justin timberlake.

Spent the entire day wandering a portion of the planet with nothing but my ZIM bag, my iPod, a pair of headphones, and a dream. I'm trying to get a job, which is... interesting. Let's all hope for the best, hmm?

I love going places on my own. Don't get me wrong, it's awesome to go places with my friends (I have a blast), but it's also very liberating to just go out into the world and observe it. It gives me time to think. I just feel so... independent.

I saw Adaptation. It was GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD BOY HOWDY!! I loved it some. Very clever and funny and allll sorts of nice things. Then I saw a calendar with bunnies on it.

187 DAYS UNTIL THE COMIC CON!!! I got a postcard in the mail. Woobee!!

And then I ate a crepe.

FRANCE!!!

HAPPY NOO YERR!!

Haven't been posting much lately, although not too much besides eating, sleeping, movie watching, and grappling with injustice happened.

Part of me is now at peace because after long years of searching, I have found a group of nerds to play "Magic the Gathering" with. I was hanging out with some friends, it was all nice and good, we decide to go over another friend's house... and BOOM!! There was a nerd Magic card orgy going on. Being one of the only two and a half females on the planet that like the game, I was very excited.

Thusly, I spent my New Years hunched around a table battling ten other people. All male. I quickly merged into a comfortable social zone by handing out postcards featuring provocative half-naked Calvin Klein underwear models. I already fit in. The boys then gave them captions which made me laugh for a good long time, so I recreated them below.





And there you have it. However, through strenuous hours of experimentation, it was found that, when combined, the sultry models form something along the lines of this:



Frightening, isn't it?

I was going to write more but my head is seized by some of the most horrible allergies I've ever known. I want to be shot.

Interesting fact:

In Edward Scissorhands, the kid on the slip-n-slide (when Edward is first introduced to the neighborhood while he's in the car with Peg) is Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys.

Treasure Planet. Best movie ever.

I take quizzes instead of tend to Macaroni!!!


What kind of porno would you star in?
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DEAR. GOD.


What Type Of Retro Gal Are You?
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Egads.


Which ArchAngel are you most like?
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Mmm. I look like some sort of sexy Ben Affleck thing.

While I should be studying for one of the ten thousand tests I have within the next three days, I find myself taking four hour naps, checking my e-mail (I don't know... DO I want to increase my penis size?), and staring at the ceiling.

This article has been recently brought to my attention. I want you to click that link and hurl yourself into a realm of entertainment never thought possible. Entertainment and, even moreso, confusion. It all comes down to the question that seems to follow Michael Jackson around wherever he goes... "What the fuck was he thinking?"

A pot of boiling water patiently awaiting to be devirginized by macaroni is calling for me downstairs. I must attend to it now.

God, where do I begin?

I saw 8 Mile on Friday. Fan-fuckin'-tastic stuff. My experience, while all-around delightful, was somewhat encroached on by a pudgy asian girl sitting next to me. We made it mere minutes before the movie, got great seats... I mean, something HAD to be wrong. And I was right. I sat next to the only person in the theater who decided it was absolutely necessary to raise her arms high in the air and clap every time Eminem said anything. I thought that was bad, but nothing could brace me for her head-bobbing and gang signing dance thing she did with her hands. You know what I mean. Yeah. That. Katie and I found ourselves looking over and laughing at the girl more than Eminem's wacky antics. Hooo boy.

Promptly upon my arrival at my house, I got sick. Four days later, I'm still gasping for air after having walked up one flight of stairs due to the one centimeter hole in my trachea I'm breathing through. (The rest of it is lined with deeee-lishus mucus)

I want everybody to make friendly with my new best friend, "Hormel Bacon Pieces". They aren't really pieces, though. They're bits. Bacon bits. Pieces are like those big strips you cook and eat, not little itsy portions that come packed in a jar. Anyway, while always having loved bacon bits, I never really realized how miraculous they were until recently. Now I put them on everything. Bagels... bagels... and... well, I haven't been eating much else lately. I find myself craving bacon bits at night. I eat this shit by the handful, and I'm not the least bit ashamed of it. After all, Hormel makes SPAM. Just look at how happy these people are. They have clearly just come back from the most miraculous SPAM hunt ever.

Lastly, Everyone should go here and spread the good word about this band. "I Wanna Marry Conan O'Brien" makes me weep with joy. Download it now and die. Er... OR die.

Zook.

So it's three o'clock AM on a Saturday night and naturally, I'm hungry. Well, I was hungry.

I made some interesting discoveries in the kitchen this evening. Earlier today, I was blessed enough to be given permission to order pizza, buffalo wings, and garlic bread from a little place called "Domino's". Well, I ate a decent fill of it and it burned my insides real good. I placed the leftovers in the fridge. I knew I'd be back for more. So about twenty minutes ago, I go downstairs to pick at the remaining rations. Buffalo wings are not good cold. I'm sure this is already common knowledge but I'm an idiot, so stay with me here. All of the meat has the distinct texture of tendon. What's more is that the "garlic sauce" that comes with the bread sticks turns to a solid when cold. It becomes a creepy butter that isn't all that bad on the breadstick, but you can definitely tell it's made of pure lard. Mmmmboy.

Judging by how much I ate, I should be dead in about ten, oh... fifteen minutes.

My dog ate a whole avocado today. It was spectacular.

Other than that, nothing. Went to the art supply store of the gods and drew some ugly crap. Woowee, I'm especially boring and irrelevent tonight. Perhaps I'll be more coherent tomorrow...

My artist biological clock is ticking. Artist... artist's biolig.... artistic biological... fuck it.

I feel the need to create art like a middle-aged woman feels the need to spawn dirty little satan-child. Or something. The urge to create comics and art is so great in me that I feel unless I do something about it quickly, all of my blood will explode in my body, which needless to say, would be really awesome.

Sleep, though. I need sleep. I have class in less than eight hours and I am freezing my poor little keester off. Did I spell that right?

I got two markers today. One of them is a mighty MAGNUM 44, which looks like it could give someone a coma simply by tapping them on their skull. When opened, the marker smells like death. I got a headache from the fumes.

I'll take a picture of the marker sometime after I scan pictures of the con and update my website and create art, which... god DAMN.

Halloween sucked. I went downtown with friend unit Stephanie and met up with other friend units to have "fun". The rest of the night was spent sitting on a bench next to a playground next to the beach watching most of the group gnaw on each other's faces, while Stephanie and I sat on a bench with a kid who kept whining about how he misses his girlfriend's tits. Then we walked for a fucking decade to "scare people", which is completely retarded since it's Halloween and no one is going to give a shit if a bunch of teenagers are wearing excessive amounts of black makeup. I ate some KFC potatoes and gravy and corn back at my house with Stephanie and then we sat. It was a team effort to shoot this Halloween to hell.

Moral of the story: Don't hang out with anyone in high school.