Friday, May 27, 2011

I've been inspired by what is really a very trivial thing. Conclusion: Make Google my bitch!

No...actually, I am not going to be the kind of blogger who goes out of his way to include sentences with/title his blogs with all the trends of the hour...imagine if I did that right now. The title of this post would be something like: *consults google trends* "Diana Ross contracted an acute sepsis from visiting a tiki barber while following Dolly Parton on her 'Blackbeard' tour."

I'm not going to lie, I kind of did want to do that just to see what happened, but I don't really think I could pull off that sort of thing.

The reason for this excitement is that while I was checking the "stats" tab, I noticed that I had a whole 2 reviews out of 23 total come from Germany...Now, given that Google exists, partnered with the internet, which also exists, this isn't really that big a deal, but something about the concept of being on a foreign computer screen excites me.

I know I'm making a huge deal out of nothing, my blog has twenty something views and at least 10 of them are me going back to proof read at various points. But still, let me have my fun.

This post is not very entertaining so I'm going to draw something silly!

Silly! It has no point!

Where is haz mah hairbrush? :(

I can't find my hairbrush. My hair is wet. I have mere minutes before the damage is irreversible for the day unless I take ANOTHER shower. 

Also, despite having eaten mere hours ago, my stomach is assaulting me with violent, over dramatic hunger pangs rather than the normal rumbling. Quit with your theatrics, Stomach.

...Okay, so I had to steal yet ANOTHER brush from my Grandma's box of brushes. I'm not happy about this and I plan on returning this one once I find the other one. The only one I could find capable of taming my hair was a massive plank with plastic bristles sticking out of it. -__-
(Notice how Huge it is compared to my head. I am not used to this)

I have not slept at all....PHOTOGRAPHY ADVENTURE.

I lie patiently in wait. I have not slept, and I have no desire to. I've been up all night writing my previous post, and I have now decided that I'm going to wait for the other people in my house to leave for the weekend so I can skulk around the property taking pictures for this post. Why? Because I've become very invested in blogging as a hobby over the past few hours. Don't ask me why or how. I have no fucking idea.

So here I am...lying in wait...
I really don't understand how I'm still awake. I may have used the almighty power of facebook against myself, thus jinxing myself into eternal awake-ness.
(If you are interested Hyperbole and a Half, click that link. It's amazing and quite obviously a great source of inspiration to me)


Wow, surreal moment you guys. I actually just spent the morning with my family before they left for their trip. I'm so confused.

Anyway, they're about to leave, so I have set up camp outside. I have my camera, my mouse, preparing to set up netflix, possibly go get the speakers so I can hear whatever I have playing whilst skulking around the property. The sky is giving forboding signs that there will soon be rain, so I may have to limit my photography adventure to mostly inside...or at least move base camp inside.... the truck monster has been started...and.... they're gone! 

Let the magical photography adventure BEGIN.

This is the base camp. Notice the Southpark on the laptop, the mouse, and the dog stealing my chair. 

 This is the neighbor's yard, visible from our deck. Our foliage and boat frame it nicely, no?

This is Grandma's cat. She's tired from ninja jumping across the neighbor's yard not seconds ago.

This is our back garden....this post gets better I promise.

Junk car....

Other Junk Car...

This sycamore tree sprouted out of the dead face of my first hamster 11 years ago. It's fucking magical. 

I went inside to get some milk/shoes and I found my cat. She was hiding from the great outdoors inside the garage.

I lured her inside with the all powerful finger wiggle, which is the mighty Orange Cat's one weakness.
She's now confused, because I never just let her be inside the downstairs portion of the house, because the grandparents live there, and they are not housecat people. She is weary of her own existence.

She has been captured. As if to say "fuck this noise", she turns away from the camera in defiance.

Orange Cat and Grandma Cat now feast at the foodening hole (it's like a watering hole...but with food.)

This is the precious milk which I went inside to get, which I spilled on my camera...I couldn't really take a picture of my milk-soaked camera...because it was the camera I was using to take pictures, so I cleaned off the camera and photographed the milk instead.

Orange Cat finds that her legs are very delicious. She may spend hours, perhaps days on one leg, captivated by the deliciousness of the limb.

I made it my mission of the moment to stalk Orange Cat, it seemed like the perfect objective for my adventure. Here we see her leaving the wood-construct luxury of her upper queendom to be amongst the lower denizens of her domain.

She notices something about this planter, it has water in it. She is captivated. The water in her bowl is not good enough, because she says so, so she turns to collected hose/rainwater.

Alas, my operation has been discovered. We must retreat to the safety of the base camp, lest we be mauled to death by her queenly wrath....

The dog senses my distress at being discovered.

We have spotted Orange Cat once again. She has become displeased with the previous planter-reservoir, and has selected a new one.

She shifts her attention, realizing once again the deliciousness of her leg.

FOILED! I am discovered! Orange Cat has now joined the adventure party.

My noble party of stalwart warriors...Notice how the Dog strikes what appears to be a fierce battle pose from this angle, but is really just curious interest in the Orange Cat, who is fascinated by the tacky, metal butterfly.


This dense grove of birds of paradise may seem innocent at first...but if we look closer, we can see that it is a hostile, dangerous place.

A constantly war-torn zone in which the fearsome, warrior natives battle the phasmiform beasts of the wild.

The noble palm tree...a species of flora not made to live in central Texas at all...and yet it's been here since we moved here. My Grandma has gotten it to grow that tall, and the leaves for the summer are coming lives to be abominate another year...

That's where I live. Second floor of the house...that's where it's at...yo...

Orange cat senses a disturbance in the force.

Preparing to initiate ninja jump....

I discovered that the "sport" mode on my camera is much better for capturing the cats in mid bound....that being said, photography is not a usual hobby of mine, so this was the only good shot I ended up getting.


The Dog strives to be the center of attention. Believing every word said in a slightly positive tone to be a call for her presence, and instantly flipping on her back to show that she's willing to please.

Orange Cat sits lazily in her garden, daring any evil to invade her domain.

....and once again my blog ends with me how to end it...I should probably fix that. Anyway, there's my photography adventure. This is what happens when I don't sleep and somehow have massive amounts of energy. 

I do not have the self esteem for 18th birthday parties and "medium" sprite= GODZILLA SPRITE MONSTER KILL YOU NOW

So the other night was my friend's birthday party. She was turning 18, so of course, the plan was to start off at Hooters (because there are boobs there) and then do everything possible to get carded as many times as could possibly be imagined by the human brain.

So, my other friend, who had graduated high school in the same class as me, picked me up around nine something in the evening. We had a nice conversation, we talked about lots of stuff, as this friend and I usually do, and her car had something wrong with it, as her car always does. 
So we get to Hooters and find my friend's table. And we're sitting there with several people that I've never met, and I'm assuming that neither Friend#2 or Friend#3 (who had followed our car to the restaurant).

I was enthralled for what was apparently a very long time by the basketball game on the television directly beside our table (why? I have no idea. I'm not a sports person at all.) Several minutes later I came to from what had apparently been a loose-understanding-of-sports-induced trance to...well, it's very difficult to describe in words....
It would be beneficial to the story to inform the reader that I am bisexual. Notice how the "bi" prefix is not spelled h-o-m-o. Most of my friends have this bad habit of assuming I'm flat out gay. I feel like when I say I like a girl, many of them process it in their brains as "Oh, he's become so gay he's looped back around to straight." (thank you Will and Grace...which doesn't help my argument...) or "Oh, he's going through a crisis and thinks he likes girls. Let me try to be supportive."

So, at this point, I've determined that Birthday Girl has informed all her friends that I'm 100% gay. I don't really mind this assumption, because it's a pretty easy one to make, but....Birthday Girl knows naturally I attempted to beam my feelings into her head.

I'm not positive that my mutant powers of telepathy were working that day, but either way the constant subtle references to my sexuality subsided before long (or perhaps I just tuned them out.) 

I could waste time drawing pictures of hooters girls and birthday-hula-hooping...but I won't. There was birthday-hula-hooping. Imagine it. Move on.

So all the people I don't know left, and we went out to the parking lot to wait for Friend 4 and Friend 5....okay, I'm assigning names to these people right now

Birthday Girl: Jazzy
Friend # 2: Tami
Friend # 3: Tod
Friend # 4: Carrie
Friend # 5: Annette

Now, back on topic. 
We met up with Carrie and Annette, and we decided to hit Sixth Street, which is a big deal in Austin.

Our first priority was to find a tattoo shop, because Jazzy wanted to get a tattoo RIGHT THEN, and I was thinking there was no way that would happen realistically...but I wanted her to have a good time, and I might have been mauled for being a buzzkill. 

The first shop we arrived at was very reminiscent of the tattoo shop that I got two of my tattoos from except it… It was a lot more not good.I mean not to say it was a bad tattoo shop mean it looked fine enough it's just that you know it it kind of pales in comparison to the one… Okay I'm going off in the tenant again so I'm you get back on topic.

So really, the first shop we went to was extravagantly designed and it was a totally up to standard tattoo shop but I like the other one better and that's all I'm gonna say about it. Anyway Jazzy went up to the counter to talk to the cashier or whoever the hell it was, meanwhile Tod and I were looking at the flash art. I quickly thumbed through all the pages just kind of looking for anything that caught my eye, when I saw this awesome Jesus tattoo… Only in my mind it wasn't Jesus, it was Merlin. So, I motion to Tod, who of course had no idea why I would be motioning to him. Sometimes I feel like Tod has no idea what's going on at any time ever. So it took way longer than it should have to get Tod's attention and get him to realize what I was trying to say which was "hey Tod get your ass over here so I can show you something."

Tod made his way over to me by the flash art, and proceeded to be all like “WHAT?” And I was like "Dude, see that Jesus tattoo right there? Now, instead of Jesus, what if that were Merlin, and the Sacred Heart were like a crystal ball or Excalibur or something?” And he became all wide-eyed and was like "Dude, that's the best tattoo ever."

So then we went to this other tattoo shop. It seemed nice enough, I liked it. Of course I didn't pay attention to what Jazzy, Carrie and Annette and all those other guys were doing because I was looking at the awesome flash art. From there the story is basically the same except replace "Jesus" with "dagger" and "Merlin" with "I need it".

After we gave up on the tattoo and Jazzy bought a cigar, we decided to go clubbing…or rather, Jazzy decided to go clubbing, and it was her birthday. I was well aware that most of my kind of club (or what I assume is my kind of club) is 21 and up, and being various shades of 18-19, we would not be going to any of them, so I tagged along, sulking on the inside.

We went to some god-awful club with the worst crowd of people I could possibly have imagined…the actual interior was great, the design was great…but the music was less than what I consider to be enjoyable, and the crowd was basically a menagerie of Mexican stereotypes (as a British Mutt By Way of Texas/Mexican half breed, I take offense to people who blatantly decide to promote the negative stereotypes that plague the Mexican community. Many people would argue that I don’t fit into this category because my grandparents are successful and stuff...OFF TOPIC) …MENAGERIE OF MEXICAN STEREOTYPES. MOVING ON.
I spent about 20 minutes of our time there antagonizing Tod in various fashions, and then I conceded and agreed to hold the bags when I was given baleful Carrie eyes for being a buzzkill.

Then for the next eight trillion years I sat at a table texting my gay (100%) friend about how I wished we were at a Gay club and how the club we were at was super gross.
Then Tami was molested by some nasty old creeper’s boner tent, so we left. I was glad we were leaving. A) because I didn’t want Tami to have to stay in the same club with the Boner-Tent-Molester and B) because that club was absolutely nastacious.
So we were walking about, I was talking with Tod about how I was running out of money for the night, and then we ended up at a gay club.
I was filled with excitement. I was positive that I would be able to have fun.
Then, as the bouncers checked our IDs and branded us all with blue wristbands reading MINOR, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed that I my hair, which I had worked so hard on earlier that evening, was terrible, and then because of this I was fat and ugly.

I was instructed by Carrie to “hit on gay guys”…but really I just sulked in the corner. Tod joined me at my table and we determined that I was having a psychological meltdown.

Tod was very supportive. It reminded me that Tod and I are actually much better friends than we act like in public. At one point he fetched water for me because I was putting on some unnecessary theatrics about being too depressed to move.

However him leaving me alone allowed my condition to worsen.

I knew intellectually that no guys were hitting on me because I was A) radiating an air of low self esteem and B) because I was talking with Tod, which made me appear unavailable, but emotionally it was because I’m fat, ugly, my hair is bad, and my soul smells.

…I don’t have a real ending for this blog… I feel like it was going somewhere…and then it just kind of died. So I’ll end with this: It was actually a pretty good night because Jazzy had a lot of fun, and Tami took me to get a “medium” cherry sprite at Jack in the Box.

Seriously, I felt like it was going to eat me…

La Fin