Keep Calm and Carry On

Kommentarer(26)

• Viktor karlsson Dragonskolan elev kopparvägen 45 R 8 juni 2021
  SIEG HEIL!!!!!
• Viktor karlsson Dragonskolan elev kopparvägen 45 R 8 juni 2021
  Min polare tog datorn och skrev det. Jag är djupt ledsen för otäckheten och ber om förlåtelse...
• Viktor karlsson Dragonskolan elev kopparvägen 45 R 8 juni 2021
  neger bög
• Viktor karlsson Dragonskolan elev kopparvägen 45 R 8 juni 2021
  Min teknik lärare tog datorn och skrev det. Jag är djupt ledsen för otäckheten och ber om förlåtelse...
• Maja Back Lakic 8 juni 2021
  Men fy så opassande. Detta kommer det bli en anmälan på.
• Viktor Karlsson 8 juni 2021
  Hej! Jag har ingen aning om vem som har skrivit detta i mitt namn. Jag ber om förlåtelse . .
• Maja Back Lakic 8 juni 2021
  Inga problem Viktor! Förstår fullkomligt ;)
• Lukas Nordlander DRe 6 september 2021
  Hej! Jag är doktorand på Uppsala universitet och undrar om du, Viktor Karlsson, skulle vilja delta i en undersökning om det mänskliga psyket.
• Viktor Karlsson 6 september 2021
  FY JÄVLA CP-IDIOT ÄCKIGA HORAWG
• Maja Back Lakic 6 september 2021
  Oaccebtabelt beteende ii mitt komet´rntarsfält.!!!!
• Erik V 6 september 2021
  wildlifefilm.com
• Maja Back Lakic' 6 september 2021
  Inlägg av Gustav Genberg DRe Gustav Genberg DRe Skapad den 14:3214:32 Hej klassen 👋! Hampus Björnerbäck DRe14:41
• Björn 6 september 2021
  Hej jag heter Björn och mina kontouppgifter är, 4785 5886 9586 123
• Konung Karl XVI Gustaf 6 september 2021
  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rXFEaksjx4
• Undersåtare 6 september 2021
  Jag underkastar mig dig vår konung och frälsare!
• Anonym 6 september 2021
  Hello, everyone! This is the LONGEST TEXT EVER! I was inspired by the various other "longest texts ever" on the internet, and I wanted to make my own. So here it is! This is going to be a WORLD RECORD! This is actually my third attempt at doing this. The first time, I didn't save it. The second time, the Neocities editor crashed. Now I'm writing this in Notepad, then copying it into the Neocities editor instead of typing it directly in the Neocities editor to avoid crashing. It sucks that my past two attempts are gone now. Those actually got pretty long. Not the longest, but still pretty long. I hope this one won't get lost somehow. Anyways, let's talk about WAFFLES! I like waffles. Waffles are cool. Waffles is a funny word. There's a Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. It's pretty annoying. There's also a Teen Titans Go episode about Pig Latin. Don't know what Pig Latin is? It's a language where you take all the consonants before the first vowel, move them to the end, and add '-ay' to the end. If the word begins with a vowel, you just add '-way' to the end. For example, "Waffles" becomes "Afflesway". I've been speaking Pig Latin fluently since the fourth grade, so it surprised me when I saw the episode for the first time. I speak Pig Latin with my sister sometimes. It's pretty fun. I like speaking it in public so that everyone around us gets confused. That's never actually happened before, but if it ever does, 'twill be pretty funny. By the way, "'twill" is a word I invented recently, and it's a contraction of "it will". I really hope it gains popularity in the near future, because "'twill" is WAY more fun than saying "it'll". "It'll" is too boring. Nobody likes boring. This is nowhere near being the longest text ever, but eventually it will be! I might still be writing this a decade later, who knows? But right now, it's not very long. But I'll just keep writing until it is the longest! Have you ever heard the song "Dau Dau" by Awesome Scampis? It's an amazing song. Look it up on YouTube! I play that song all the time around my sister! It drives her crazy, and I love it. Another way I like driving my sister crazy is by speaking my own made up language to her. She hates the languages I make! The only language that we both speak besides English is Pig Latin. I think you already knew that. Whatever. I think I'm gonna go for now. Bye! Hi, I'm back now. I'm gonna contribute more to this soon-to-be giant wall of text. I just realised I have a giant stuffed frog on my bed. I forgot his name. I'm pretty sure it was something stupid though. I think it was "FROG" in Morse Code or something. Morse Code is cool. I know a bit of it, but I'm not very good at it. I'm also not very good at French. I barely know anything in French, and my pronunciation probably sucks. But I'm learning it, at least. I'm also learning Esperanto. It's this language that was made up by some guy a long time ago to be the "universal language". A lot of people speak it. I am such a language nerd. Half of this text is probably gonna be about languages. But hey, as long as it's long! Ha, get it? As LONG as it's LONG? I'm so funny, right? No, I'm not. I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back again. I basically have only two interests nowadays: languages and furries. What? Oh, sorry, I thought you knew I was a furry. Haha, oops. Anyway, yeah, I'm a furry, but since I'm a young furry, I can't really do as much as I would like to do in the fandom. When I'm older, I would like to have a fursuit, go to furry conventions, all that stuff. But for now I can only dream of that. Sorry you had to deal with me talking about furries, but I'm honestly very desperate for this to be the longest text ever. Last night I was watching nothing but fursuit unboxings. I think I need help. This one time, me and my mom were going to go to a furry Christmas party, but we didn't end up going because of the fact that there was alcohol on the premises, and that she didn't wanna have to be a mom dragging her son through a crowd of furries. Both of those reasons were understandable. Okay, hopefully I won't have to talk about furries anymore. I don't care if you're a furry reading this right now, I just don't wanna have to torture everyone else. I will no longer say the F word throughout the rest of this entire text. Of course, by the F word, I mean the one that I just used six times, not the one that you're probably thinking of which I have not used throughout this entire text. I just realised that next year will be 2020. That's crazy! It just feels so futuristic! It's also crazy that the 2010s decade is almost over. That decade brought be a lot of memories. In fact, it brought be almost all of my memories. It'll be sad to see it go. I'm gonna work on a series of video lessons for Toki Pona. I'll expain what Toki Pona is after I come back. Bye! I'm back now, and I decided not to do it on Toki Pona, since many other people have done Toki Pona video lessons already. I decided to do it on Viesa, my English code. Now, I shall explain what Toki Pona is. Toki Pona is a minimalist constructed language that has only ~120 words! That means you can learn it very quickly. I reccomend you learn it! It's pretty fun and easy! Anyway, yeah, I might finish my video about Viesa later. But for now, I'm gonna add more to this giant wall of text, because I want it to be the longest! It would be pretty cool to have a world record for the longest text ever. Not sure how famous I'll get from it, but it'll be cool nonetheless. Nonetheless. That's an interesting word. It's a combination of three entire words. That's pretty neat. Also, remember when I said that I said the F word six times throughout this text? I actually messed up there. I actually said it ten times (including the plural form). I'm such a liar! I struggled to spell the word "liar" there. I tried spelling it "lyer", then "lier". Then I remembered that it's "liar". At least I'm better at spelling than my sister. She's younger than me, so I guess it's understandable. "Understandable" is a pretty long word. Hey, I wonder what the most common word I've used so far in this text is. I checked, and appearantly it's "I", with 59 uses! The word "I" makes up 5% of the words this text! I would've thought "the" would be the most common, but "the" is only the second most used word, with 43 uses. "It" is the third most common, followed by "a" and "to". Congrats to those five words! If you're wondering what the least common word is, well, it's actually a tie between a bunch of words that are only used once, and I don't wanna have to list them all here. Remember when I talked about waffles near the beginning of this text? Well, I just put some waffles in the toaster, and I got reminded of the very beginnings of this longest text ever. Okay, that was literally yesterday, but I don't care. You can't see me right now, but I'm typing with my nose! Okay, I was not able to type the exclamation point with just my nose. I had to use my finger. But still, I typed all of that sentence with my nose! I'm not typing with my nose right now, because it takes too long, and I wanna get this text as long as possible quickly. I'm gonna take a break for now! Bye! Hi, I'm back again. My sister is beside me, watching me write in this endless wall of text. My sister has a new thing where she just says the word "poop" nonstop. I don't really like it. She also eats her own boogers. I'm not joking. She's gross like that. Also, remember when I said I put waffles in the toaster? Well, I forgot about those and I only ate them just now. Now my sister is just saying random numbers. Now she's saying that they're not random, they're the numbers being displayed on the microwave. Still, I don't know why she's doing that. Now she's making annoying clicking noises. Now she's saying that she's gonna watch Friends on three different devices. Why!?!?! Hi its me his sister. I'd like to say that all of that is not true. Max wants to make his own video but i wont let him because i need my phone for my alarm.POOP POOP POOP POOP LOL IM FUNNY. kjnbhhisdnhidfhdfhjsdjksdnjhdfhdfghdfghdfbhdfbcbhnidjsduhchyduhyduhdhcduhduhdcdhcdhjdnjdnhjsdjxnj Hey, I'm back. Sorry about my sister. I had to seize control of the LTE from her because she was doing keymash. Keymash is just effortless. She just went back to school. She comes home from school for her lunch break. I think I'm gonna go again. Bye! Hello, I'm back. Let's compare LTE's. This one is only 8593 characters long so far. Kenneth Iman's LTE is 21425 characters long. The Flaming-Chicken LTE (the original) is a whopping 203941 characters long! I think I'll be able to surpass Kenneth Iman's not long from now. But my goal is to surpass the Flaming-Chicken LTE. Actually, I just figured out that there's an LTE longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE. It's Hermnerps LTE, which is only slightly longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE, at 230634 characters. My goal is to surpass THAT. Then I'll be the world record holder, I think. But I'll still be writing this even after I achieve the world record, of course. One time, I printed an entire copy of the Bee Movie script for no reason. I heard someone else say they had three copies of the Bee Movie script in their backpack, and I got inspired. But I only made one copy because I didn't want to waste THAT much paper. I still wasted quite a bit of paper, though. Now I wanna see how this LTE compares to the Bee Movie script. Okay, I checked, and the Bee Movie script is 50753 characters long. Not as long as some of the LTEs I mentioned, but still longer than mine and Kenneth Iman's combined. This LTE is getting close to 10000 characters! That means it'll be half the length of Kenneth Iman's LTE. That's pretty exciting. Also, going back to the topic of the Bee Movie Script, I tried to write the entire thing out by hand once. But I never finished it, especially since I'm focusing on this thing now. Maybe I should write this LTE out by hand. Nah, I don't think I will. Yay, we're at 10000 characters! Let's celebrate by talking about MUSIC! Music is cool. That concludes our celebratory discussion about music. Thank you, and have a good rest of your day. Hi, I'm back now, and I got a book! It's a dictionary for a language called Elefen. It's like Esperanto, but better. Now I can learn Elefen even without internet! That's pretty cool. I will now write something in Elefen. See if you can understand it! Here goes: Si tu pote leje esta, tu es merveliosa! Elefen es un lingua multe fresca! Did you understand that? Maybe you can't speak Elefen, but you still understood that because of your knowledge of other languages. Elefen is cool because it's an actual language, not an English code like Pig Latin or Viesa. Oh, I forgot to mention that my sister is back from school. She's blasting Rhett and Link songs right now. Have you seen that picture of Rhett and Link standing with a bunch of *******? Sorry, I almost said the F word there. That would've broken my rule of not saying the F word. I wrote something in Elefen, so I will also write something in Toki Pona. See if you can understand it now! sina sona e toki mi la sina pona mute a! I can speak Toki Pona fluently, by the way. It's also a pretty cool language. My sister is still playing annoying songs. It's hindering my focus right now. But it's fiiiiine. Okay, luckily she's run out of songs to play. At least for now. She's trying to think of another annoying song to play. Now she's playing a song by Green Day. Not NEARLY as bad as the other songs she just played. I should go for now. Goodbye! Hello, I'm back once again. I don't know why I feel obligated to say that every time I come back. But I'll keep doing it anyway. My sister stopped blasting annoying songs, so that's good. She's cooking something in the microwave. I'll go check to see what it is right now. Nevermind, it's already done cooking. Right, I remember! It's mac and cheese! Now she just started singing "I have a tongue, you don't, because I cut it off yesterday". I don't know what goes on in her mind when she does stuff like that. I've been messing around with my Elefen dictionary for a while, looking up whatever random words I can think of. By the way, the whole reason I'm doing this longest text ever is because of pointlesssites.com. That's how I found the Flaming-Chicken LTE, which inspired me to start writing this LTE. So thanks, pointlesssites.com! I check that website every day to see what new pointless websites they add. You know, I could double every letter I type so that this text would be twice as long as it normally would be. But nah, that's kinda cheating. So I won't. Also, SUBSCRIBE TO PEWDIEPIE! There, I did my part. Not that anyone will read this, but still. 'Twould be nice if you subscribed to PewDiePie. That's another word I invented. Actually, I looked it up, and I didn't invent it. Someone came up with it before I did. That's pretty sad. Also, LEARN VIESA TODAY! IT WILL CURE YOUR DEPRESSION! Seriously though, learn Viesa. It won't actually cure your depression, but I'm desperate for speakers. I only have one other person to speak it with. I should go now. Goodbye. Hi, I’m back. I just came up with an idea: SIMPLIFIED ENGLISH! Or, in Simplified Engish: Simifid Enis. It’s where every group of consonant letters is reduced to the first consonant in that group of consonants, and same goes with the vowels. If a word ends up being just a single consonant with no vowel, put ‘a’ at the end. So “I like eating my waffles” becomes “I like etin ma wafes”. Isn’t it the most amazing thing ever? Nah, it’s not quite as amazing as Viesa. Actually, Viesa isn’t a real language, so it’s less amazing then Elefen and Toki Pona, both of which are cool languages. I kinda figured that half of this text would be about languages. Oh well. I just really want this to be the longest text ever, without using copy and paste, keymash, etc. If you remember, my sister did a little bit of keymash in this text a while ago. I would’ve deleted it, but nah, I didn’t feel like it. And besides, it’s not like it took up half this text. I have an estimate for how long it’ll take me to be the world record holder: about one month. I think I can manage one month of writing this. You know what? I’m just gonna break my rule of not saying the word “furry”. There, I said it. Now I’m allowing myself to write “furry” whenever I want. So with that out of the way, let’s talk about how I first became a furry. For some reason, I have the exact date when I became a furry memorized. It’s May 4, 2018. At that time, I discovered that I was a furry by watching some furry YouTube videos. I knew about the existence of furries years before this, but I didn’t know much about it until this time. I said to myself, “You know what? I’m a furry now,” and that’s what started it all. And I’ve been slowly learning more about the fandom ever since. I would like to participate more in the fandom when I’m older, but I’m too young for most of it right now. Guess I’ll just have to wait. But in the meantime, I can write about it in this text. I should sleep now. Goodnight. Hello, I'm back once again. Happy Pi Day! I memorized a bunch of digits of Pi once, not sure how many I still remember... I have literally nothing to write about now. I've been trying to come up with something for the past 10 minutes, and I still have no idea. Literally nothing is happening right now. It's pretty boring. My sister is watching Friends, as usual. Okay, since there's nothing for me to write about, I should go now. Bye! Wow, it has been a while since I last added to this. It is now July 10, 2019. Last time I edited this page was Pi Day, which was March 14. Those 4 months of this thing being untouched end today! Wait... 4 months? That means I was supposed to get this past the world record three months ago. Oh well. I have put many things into this text. A lot of them were cringy, like how I keep mentioning furry-related things. You know, I should stop putting things in here when I know I'm gonna cringe at them later. I'll try not to do that from here on out. I just know I'll fail though. I'd hate to be aware of someone reading this entire thing... like, if I had to sit and watch a family member or something read this entire text, I would cringe so hard. I would not want that to happen. I am currently pasting the entirety of the FlamingChicken LTE onto a page on OurWorldOfText. The frustrating thing about pasting stuff there is that it pastes one letter at a time, so it takes forever to paste long text. And when the tab isn't open, I'm pretty sure it just stops pasting, so you have to keep the tab open if you want it to continue. Why am I even doing this? No idea. I might not even paste the whole thing. I probably won't. Hey, I just had a thought. What if, in the future, students are reading this for a class assignment? What if this LTE becomes part of the school curriculum? If so, hi future student! I hope you're enjoying reading my CRINGE. What is my life coming to? That's enough writing for now. Goodbye. Hey again. Might as well continue writing in here for a bit. Hey, have you ever heard of 3D Movie Maker? It's a program from the 90s (that still works on modern computers) where you can make 3D animated movies. It's pretty cool. I've made a few movies with it myself, and many other people use it to make interesting stuff. In case you want to try it for yourself, I'm sure if you google "3dmm download" or something like that, it will take you somewhere where you can download the program. It's kinda aimed at younger children, but hopefully that doesn't stop you from making absolute masterpieces with this program. I have a keyboard in my room (the musical kind, not the one you type words on), and I don't really know how to play it properly, but I do it anyways. I can play a few songs on the piano (albeit with weird fingering because like I just said, I have no idea what I'm doing), including HOME - Resonance and PilotRedSun - Bodybuilder. You might not know one or both of those songs. If you don't know one of them, why not google it? You will have discovered some new music, and it will all be because of me. Why are you reading this, anyways? How did you even find it? Were you like me, and you were browsing pointlesssites.com, eventually finding the FlamingChicken LTE and going down a rabbit hole of discovering random LTEs? Literally the only reason I'm writing this right now is because that happened. I just discovered a new LTE: the RainbowFluffySheep LTE. I'm gonna see how many characters long it is. 75,957 characters. Pretty long, but not as long as the top two LTEs (FlamingChicken and Hermnerps, both with around 200,000 characters). I wanna write as much as possible into this text today. I'm gonna see how much LTE-writing I can do in one day. Hopefully it's a lot, because I wanna hold a world record! Imagine having a world record. Well, would it really be a world record? Because I don't know of any world record books that have "Longest Text Ever" as a record. Oh well, I just hope this LTE passes exactly 230,634 characters. That's all my goal is. I'm not even a tenth of the way there yet, but give it a month and I'm sure I'll get there. Hey, remember last time I said it would only take a month? That was four months ago. I should just stop promising things all together at this point. Forget I said anything about that. Did you know my sister has an LTE? That's right! It's not very long, though, and you can't read it because it's on her phone. She made it while bored at the library. That library was where I used to have web design classes. Those were fun, but I don't do them anymore. Now all I do it sit at home and write stuff in here. Well, I'm exaggerating. I go to the convenience store with my sister sometimes. But that's pretty much it outside of being bored on a computer. I should be a less boring human being. One day, I should translate this entire LTE into Viesa. That would be a big waste of time, even bigger than writing the LTE itself. But I could still do it. I don't think I ever will. This text is simply too long, and it'll be even longer than that by the time I pass 230,634 characters. By the way, if you think I'm gonna stop writing this once I pass 230,634 characters, you're wrong! Because I'll keep writing this even after I pass that point. It'll feel nice to be way ahead the record. My sister's alarm clock has been going off for half an hour and I haven't turned it off. Why? Because LAZYNESS! Actually, I really should turn it off now. There, I turned it off. First when I tried to turn it off, it started playing the radio. Then I tried again, and it turned off completely. Then I hurt myself on the door while walking out. So that was quite the adventure. I'm gonna go sleep now. Goodnight! Hey, I'm back again. My computer BSOD'd while writing this, so I have to start this section over again. That's why you save your work, kids! Before I had to start over again, I was talking about languages. Yes, I decided to bring that topic back after a while. But I no longer want to talk about it. Why? Because it'll probably bore you to death. That is assuming you're reading this at all. Who knows, maybe absolutely zero people will read this within the span of the universe's existence. But I doubt that. There's gotta be someone who'll find this text and dedicate their time to reading it, even if it takes thousands of years for that to happen. What will happen to this LTE in a thousand years? Will the entire internet dissapear within that time? In that case, will this text dissapear with it? Or will it, along with the rest of what used to be the internet, be preserved somewhere? I'm thinking out loud right now. Well, not really "out loud" because I'm typing this, and you can't technically be loud through text. THE CLOSEST THING IS TYPING IN ALL CAPS. Imagine if I typed this entire text like that. That would be painful. I decided to actually save my work this time, in case of another crash. I already had my two past attempts at an LTE vanish from existance. I mean, most of this LTE is already stored on Neocities, so I probably won't need to worry about anything. I think I might change the LTE page a little. I want the actual text area to be larger. I'm gonna make it a very basic HTML page with just a header and text. Maybe with some CSS coloring. I don't know. Screw it, I'm gonna do it. There, now the text area is larger. It really does show how small this LTE is so far compared to FlamingChicken or Hermnerps. But at least I made the background a nice Alice Blue. That's the name of the CSS color I used. It's pretty light. We're getting pretty close to the 1/10 mark! That's the point where we're one tenth of the way to making this the longest text ever, meaning all I have to do is write the equivalent of everything I've already written so far nine more times! Not gonna make any promises, though. How come every time I try to type "though", it comes out as "thought"? Why do I always type the extra T? It's so annoying that I have to delete the T every time. Okay, only mildly annoying. Not as annoying as I previously described. I apologize for my exaggeration of the annoyance level of me typing "thought" instead of "though". I just realized that most of the games I play are games that I've been playing for at least six years. I started playing Garry's Mod in 2013, Minecraft in whatever year version 1.2.3 came out. Now I have to look that up. March 2, 2012. So I started playing Minecraft approximately during that time. Wow, seven years ago! Coincidentally, I was also seven years old then. I remember the days of 2012-13. That was when I still played Roblox and made terrible YouTube videos. I was called "Infinite Budgets" back then. I also remember the days of 2016. A lot of people thought that was a terrible year, but for me personally, it brings me a lot of nostalgia because I talked a lot with my online friend at the time, and I did livestreams on YouTube and stuff. It was fun. 2016 was also when I got the phone that I still have to this day. Yup, my phone is three years old. My life was completely different when I got this phone: I was 11 years old, my YouTube channel actually had activity, and I wasn’t writing this text. I’m currently writing this in the car. We are on out way to the dollar store. And since I’m writing this on my phone, I’m making a lot more typos than usual. Some of them might make it through, so be prepared for that. Anyways, we appear to be getting close to the dollar store. I have a gift card for that place. I think so anyways, it might be for a different store... Yup, this dollar store is different. Oh well. My sister has an obsession with sponges. I’m sure she’s gonna find the sponges and go crazy over them. Why does she like sponges so much? No idea. She just found a bag of tiny baby dolls, and she wants to put them in ice cubes and call it “Ice Ice Baby”. She is truly a strange human being. My sister also has an obsession with stuffies. She has such an addiction, that she’s banned from them. Now she found the wigs and she’s considering buying one. She’s been looking at them for quite a while now. We’re out of the dollar store, and now we’re going to the computer store. I have no idea why we’re here. I guess we just are. Now we’re going home. Welp, that was a fun adventure. Stay tuned for more fun adventures as you read through this LTE. I should go now. Bye! Hello again. I made a private world on OurWorldOfText for my sister and I, but she doesn't want to join it. She doesn't think it'll be fun. Now I'm just editing it alone. How sad. But oh well. Now I’m here adding more to this text. I once made a Discord server specifically for a language called “Bo”, where the only word is “bo”. I made it almost four months ago, and somehow, it’s still going. People are still spamming nothing but “bo” there. It’s great. I also once made a server where you’re not allowed to use any vowels. It was a very strange server. I deleted it after some time though, so all that insanity is no more. I also used to own a Pig Latin server, but it got inactive so I deleted that too. We had some good memories in that server though. Now there’s a new Pig Latin server, but it’s not owned by me. Dang, my YouTube channel has been dead for so long. I haven’t posted a video in a year. I want to revive it, but I don’t know what to post there. I’ll figure it out. I doubt my channel will ever go back to it’s 2016 legacy, but I’m sure I’ll post something eventually. Random fact of the day: there are thirty-nine question marks so far in this text. Am I about to make it forty? Yes, I just did. Now the fact I initially stated is no longer true. Or is it? Because I said “so far” in the fact, that implies that we’re talking about the moment that fact was said, disregarding any future events. Now I’m pretty sure that fact is still technically true. Welp, I guess I should just accept that I’m editing that world of text alone for the rest of my life. I originally put a bunch of complaining in there, but I deleted it all. The thing is, now that world will never be same without all of that complaining about my sister not being here. But that’s fine. Hey, I just had a cool realization. Basically, there’s this conlang (constructed language, for those not in the know) server where we have a Sentence of the Week activity. In this activity, someone posts a text with a maximum of nine sentences, then people translate it into their own conlangs. My realization is this: if we take nine sentences from this LTE every week, there would be a whole year of sentences for people to translate. There are approximantly 523 sentences in this LTE. Divide that by 9 sentences each week, and you get 58 weeks worth of sentences, which is approximantly the number of weeks in a year. Quick maths. I actually suck at math, but that’s besides the point. I should go now. Goodbye! Hello, I’m back again. I really need to come up with different hello and goodbye messages, because I’ve already said “Hello, I’m back again” once before. Same with the “I should go now. Goodbye!” I said at the end of the previous section. I was going to explain what a “section” is, but I’m terrible at explaining things, so I’m not going to anymore. I guess you’ll just have to figure it out yourself. It’s probably not very hard to figure out, anyways. I guess I can just say that a section starts with me saying hello, and ends with me saying goodbye. That should be enough explaination, now that I think about it. Hey, do you ever feel like you never have any idea what you’re talking about? That’s my entire life. I just summarized it all in one sentence. On an unrelated note, I feel like half this LTE is just me talking about the LTE itself. I mean, press CTRL+F on this webpage, then type “LTE”. Look at all the times I use it in this text! Not counting the ‘lte’ in the word ‘multe’, of course. Dang, now the search results will include that, too. Anyways, half of this text is just me talking about how I’m trying to get this text to be the longest. Well, the longest LTE, anyways. I still have a long way to go. I’m only 12.7% of the way there. I mean, minus the four month gap, my estimation is that I’ve only been writing this for not even two weeks. So it makes sense that this LTE isn’t very long yet. Whenever I look at this webpage, it looks long at first glance, but the longer I look at it, the more I realize how short it actually is. It’s something that I can’t explain. For real this time. I just realized that none of this is helping the fact that half this LTE is about the LTE itself. I should bring up a new topic, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about much else. Why? Because, like I said, I never have any idea what I’m talking about. Most of this LTE is just me talking about LTEs or languages. Sometimes furries, but I don’t wanna go back into that territory at this point. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m still gonna write this LTE for as long as possible, even if it means talking about the same things half the time. Also, LEARN VIESA! Haven’t said that in a while, so I might as well bring it back. The documentation for Viesa is on this very website, so go ahead and read it! You might need to know some linguistic knowledge to understand it, though. In fact, you probably won’t understand most of it unless you know some amount about lingusitics, so you have been warned. If Viesa is too much for you, Pig Latin will probably be better for you. If it's so easy that kids can learn it, you can too! It's a language you can learn in probably five minutes, so why not give it a try? You may also enjoy Ubbi Dubbi, where you place 'ub' before every vowel sound. It's also a very easy language to learn, although not quite as popular. The thing is, none of these are even real languages. They're just codes, and very simple codes at that. You could probably crask Pig Latin or Ubbi Dubbi rather easily. Viesa too, actually. But I still enjoy them occasionally, even if Pig Latin and Ubbi Dubbi are inefficient and easy to crack, and Viesa is easy to crack yet unneccesarily difficult. I do make real languages, but I never put in the effort to learn them to fluency. At least I make them at all. Here’s a fun game: I will open up a random page from a book, and tell you the first word I see. English. That’s the word. Stay tuned for more fun games as you read through this LTE. We’re back, and we’re gonna play the same game as before. Ready? Subject. Now we’re gonna do it again. Reading. And again. Itself. Constituent. Grammar. Colloquial. Black. Outline. Add. About four of those words were language related. You’ll never guess why! (Spoiler alert: it’s a conlanging book). I’m running out of ideas now. I’m just gonna generate a random word and try to talk about it. Forbid. That’s the opposite of “allow”, I’m pretty sure. I don’t really know what else to say. Well, I guess I failed at generating a topic I could talk about. You know what's weird? My favorite word hasn't been used once in this entire text. I'm about to change that forever. Epic. Yup, my favorite word is "epic". I use it on a regular basis. I say "That's epic" all the time. It's a word I can't live without. Hey, I've now written more of this text after the 4 month gap than before it! Just thought I'd share that fact. Also, I'm gonna try and write as much as possible in this LTE today. I've already written more today than the day I first said I was gonna write as much as possible, so that's a good sign. The thing is, I don't know what to write about. I need to write about something, otherwise I won't write at all and I won't accomplish my goal. Wait, what goal should I set? How many characters should I write today? I'm gonna try and get 10,000 characters. I've already written almost 5,000 today, so from here I just have to write the equivellant of everything I've already written today. I'm just gonna try it and see if I make it. Maybe sometime in the future I'll do a bigger goal, like 15,000 or even 20,000 in one day. Actually, I don't know if 20,000 would even be possible for me. It might be, but it sounds like somewhat of a stretch for me to write that much in a single day. We'll see how long 10,000 takes, though. I'm already doing a bad job at this. I haven't typed anything here in several minutes. I need a topic. Um, Vabungula, I guess? Basically, it's a conlang created by Bill Price in 1965. It amazes me how one can work on a single conlang for that long. Most of the conlangs I start making die after 15 minutes. Anyways, I really like it because... um, I don't know, actually. There's not really anything about it that's super interesting (other than how long it's existed), it's just his personal conlang. Maybe it's the amount of development that went into it. It has over 5,000 dictionary entries and several texts written in the language. I'm sure most people reading this don't care about my language related talk, but I gotta make this long. I'm desperate to reach my 10,000 character goal. I've got 4,000 to go. I just found a website that generates random art from a seed. I just put this entire text as the seed, and it generated something quite nice. I would put the picture here, but I want this LTE to be nothing but text, so I won't do that. I've been playing with this for a while now. Many of the seeds produce boring pictures, but some of them are nice. For example, I just used "e" as the seed and it produced a nice looking picture. "a" looks nice too, arguably nicer. I've been using nothing but the word "nice" to describe these pictures. Maybe it's time to get a bigger vocabulary? "b" looks, um, good? I don't have the right vocabulary for this. I also don't feel like doing every single letter, because the pictures take some time to generate. But if you want to do it for yourself, just go to random-art.org and try it out! By the way, this is another website I found through pointlesssites.com. You know, the same website that lead me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which lead me to begin writing this whole thing. But what made me discover pointlesssites.com? Vsauce mentioned it. But what made me discover Vsauce? YouTube Reccomendations, probably. But what made me discover YouTube? As far as I remember, my dad showed it to me when I was 6. So I would like to thank my dad for being the reason I started writing this. He's the one who showed me YouTube, which reccomended me Vsauce, which mentioned pointlesssites.com, which brought me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which inspired me to start my own LTE. If he had never shown me YouTube, I wouldn't be here writing this text, and you wouldn't be reading it. Well, that's probably not true, because I probably would have discovered YouTube by other means, thus leading me to Vsauce, leading me to Vsauce, leading me to pointlesssites.com, leading me to the FlamingChicken LTE, leading me to... okay, I really need to stop now. I've gone too far. But you know what I haven't gone too far with? This LTE. I don't think I even can go too far with writing this text. Unless this text gets so long that it surpasses the 1GB storage limit of Neocities. In which case, I'll need to upgrade to Supporter in order to get a 50GB storage limit. But what if the text gets so long that is surpasses that? I don't think I'll ever make it there. I mean, 50GB is about 50 trillion characters. So I think we're good. I still need to get to 10,000 by the end of today. I've got 1,500 to go. Currently watching a livestream. It's reminding me of when I used to livestream back in 2016. I still kinda miss those days. But at the same time, I was quite awkward and had zero social skills, so I'm not sure if I'd want to go back. At this point, everything I've written today is longer than what can fit on the screen at once. At least on my computer screen. It probably changes with different screen resolutions and devices. But anyways, it's pretty unusual for that much of the LTE to be written in a single day. I don't want to pressure myself into writing this much every day, though. Last time I forced myself to complete a certain amount of something every day, it was overwhelming and I ended up losing motivation, thus letting down all my fans who were anticipating the August 30th, 2016 release date. Okay, the amount of eager fans was probably a number you could count on one hand, but still. By the way, if you're wondering what this "something" was, it was GoAnimated Garbage: The Movie, which was supposed to be an hour long episode of a series I made to make fun of random GoAnimate videos. In case you're not the type of person who knows what GoAnimate is... hoo boy. Basically, it's a drag-and-drop animation website infamous for the "grounded videos" that people made with it, among other types of videos. It's this whole community that I neither can explain nor want to explain. But I had somewhat of an association with that community back in the day. On my YouTube channel, I used to make a genre of GoAnimate video known as the "OS video". Typically an OS video is where some sort of hated character within the GoAnimate community forcefully installs their operating system onto a user's computer, and the user has to deal with this OS until they eventually find a way to "destroy" it. I made five of these videos. In chronological order: Caillou OS, Boots OS, Franklin OS, Little Bill OS, and Crap OS X. Caillou OS is the most viewed video on my main channel, which is unsurprising since Caillou is pretty much THE character associated with the GoAnimate community. When I made that video, it was a big transition for my channel. The channel's name was changed from Infinite Budgets, which had been my name since 2013 when I made crappy Roblox videos, to Allisima. All of my old videos were deleted, with the exception of my "Barney Errors", which was yet another genre of GoAnimate video. Basically, a Barney error is when a user's computer/console/whatever session is interrupted by a "Barney Error", a message informing the user that Barney has been killed, and the device must not be turned off because it's an "important message". There's also a bomb that's placed in Barney's "lair", the timer for which is displayed in the error. The user gets some amount of "chances", and every time the device is turned off, the user looses a chance and the time until the bomb explodes decreases. Eventually, the user turns off the computer enough times that there are no more chances left, the bomb explodes, and some sort of punishment happens. These punishments can range from having to downgrade your operating system, to having your computer destroyed, and in extreme cases, even to death. I once made a whole channel for Barney Errors, where I made about twenty of them before quitting. After that, I eventually quit GoAnimate all together, but I still made Crap OS X, an OS video made with Powerpoint. I also made an interactive OS parody called Windows Poop Editon, again with Powerpoint. Before that, I also made one called "Atch OS" using my old Windows XP netbook. I just checked to see if my old Weebly website still exists, since there's an Atch OS download on there and I wanted to see if it dissapeared from existence or not. Appearantly it does! I'm getting so much nostalgia from this website. It's like a window into 2016, when I had fun making these videos on a regular basis. I'm way past my 10,000 character goal now. I'm kinda glad I set this goal, but again, I'm not gonna force myself to do it everyday. I think I'm gonna stop writing for today. Bye! Hey, I'm back. Yes, that hello wasn't original either, since I already said it once. Specifically, after my sister seized the LTE and started spamming. You remember that, right? I hope you read through this whole thing instead of just picking a random part (which just happened to be this part) and reading only a tiny bit. Nah, I'm just kidding. Read this text however you want to, it doesn't matter if you read this entire text from start to finish or not. I mean, I did put some cringy stuff in here, as I keep mentioning. But it's on the Internet, and since recently, on my homepage, so I know people are gonna read it. Really the only reason I'm making this is because I have a weird obsession for writing giant walls of text. Guess what? I just added translations of this LTE into various conlangs on my website! But they're all very incomplete, and I probably won't finish them ever... I mean, if I'm gonna finish any of them, 'twill probably be the Viesa translation since it's the easiest to do. Hey, 'twill's back! I remember the very beginnings of this LTE, when I first mentioned 'twill. That was 40,000 characters ago. Appearantly I'm measuring time with characters now. Hey, what's the average amount of text I write per day in this LTE? The four month gap probably significantly drops that amount. Let's see! The trouble is finding out when I started writing this LTE, because I don't know the exact date. I'm just gonna estimate that it was March 12, based on the amount of times I said goodnight before I said "Happy Pi Day". It's not a very accurate measurement, though, because sometimes I stop writing for the day without saying goodnight. But anyways, from March 12 to today, July 16, is 127 days. As of that previous sentence, there are 42,549 characters in this LTE. 42,549 characters divided by 127 days equals about 335 characters per day. That's not very much at all. To get an idea of how short that is, the first 335 characters of this LTE consist of about 64 words and 8 sentences. As I predicted, the four months of no activity had a big impact on this number. But what if we ignore the 4 month gap, which was from March 15 to July 9, I've only been working on this LTE for ten days. 42,549 characters divided by 10 days is about 4254 characters. That's much better. It might be that big because of the 12,600 characters I wrote yesterday. I said I wouldn't do it every day, but honestly, I'm feeling like doing a goal again today. I think I might even go a bit higher than yesterday. Let's do 15,000 characters! I have zero life outside of this LTE, anyways, so I think I'll make it. As long as I keep typing about random stuff for the entire day, I'll probably get past 15,000 easily. I think I'm insane. Literally all I do anymore is write this LTE. My mom is almost certainly concered for me, because I was in my room pretty much all of yesterday and my sister told her about how I'm trying to write the longest text ever. But enough about my descent into insanity for now. Let's get this LTE to over 55,000 characters today! This is probably the most meta LTE in existence. Like I've said, I talk about the LTE itself as much, if not more than anything else. By the way, if I were to write as much as I did yesterday every day, I would reach my goal in just 15 days. Now I'm tempted to do that, even though I said I wouldn't set a goal like that every day. I think I might end up doing it subconciously. I kinda wanna convince some other people I know online to start their own LTE. Wouldn't it be fun if we all had our own LTEs? They would probably all die within a day, but at least I wouldn't be the only one writing an LTE in 2019... The most recently updated LTE I've seen is the RainbowFluffySheep LTE, which I believe was last updated in late 2018. That wasn't really that long ago, but still, I don't think it's being updated anymore. Now let's do an LTE Timeline! The original FlamingChickens LTE was probably started sometime in 2004, and Hermnerps was started the same year. The FlamingChickens LTE stopped in 2005, while the Hermnerps LTE actually lived on until 2009, although edits after the end of 2004 were rather sparce. The Kenneth Iman LTE was started in 2013 and was last updated in 2015. The RainbowFluffySheep LTE both started and was last updated in March 2018. And of course, the WhileTrue LTE was started in March 2019 and is still being updated today. Wow, 15 years of LTEs! I think my LTE is the only one still being updated. It would be nice if someone else was writing their own LTE along with me. But 'twill be hard to convince other people to waste their lives writing a useless wall of text. You never know, maybe an LTE that stopped being edited years ago will come back from the dead. That seems kind of unlikely though. Very strange fact incoming. A certain word has not been used since the very beginning of this text. Ready to learn what it is? I shouldn't tell you, actually. Of course, that would ruin it. Unless you want me to ruin a really cool fact. Surely you wouldn't want that to happen. Okay, I'll just tell you, because I'm probably gonna end up using it again someday or another. The word is "various". If you search for "various" in this LTE, you'll only find it at the very beginning as well as here. And I was gonna keep this a secret, but just now I did this thing where if you take the first letter of each sentence, it spells out "VARIOUS". Kinda clever... I guess? Anyways, for those who are insane enough to be reading this entire thing from the start: Wow, you have quite the dedication. My LTE isn't even the longest yet, but perhaps in the future, when it is the longest, people will be challenging themselves to read the entire thing. And maybe you're one of them! Perhaps you're reading this long after I've passed my goal, in which case you still have quite a bit to go. So I wish you luck on your Longest Text Ever reading adventure! I've been talking about LTEs all day. For the past 6,000 characters, in fact. I need to find something different to talk about. But first, I just had an idea pertaining LTEs. I should compare this LTE to the longest joke in the world! The longest joke in the world is 56,554 characters long, which is about how long I'm trying to get this LTE by the end of today. So if I reach my goal today, this text will be longer than the longest joke in the world! That's pretty cool. I would also be a quarter of the way to my goal. But let's get back to finding something different to talk about. I can't think of anything. My sister is singing a song about wanting Subway. I will never understand her. What goes through her brain that makes her decide "Yeah, I think it would be a good idea to sing about how I really want Subway"? I don't get how her brain works. She also likes eating paper. I asked her and appearantly she was perfectly okay with me writing that in here. She probably thinks nobody's ever gonna read this. But she's gonna be wrong! Eventually. Now she's asking me to write about how she likes yogurt. "Because I didn't used to", she says. She's eating mango yogurt, and she has water in a Gatorade bottle. Now I'm asking her what else I should put in this text. She says I should write about how there's wild sage where we live. Now she's having hot chocolate. She didn't ask me to write that, but I told her I was going to write it and she said okay. My sister might start her own Longest Text Ever, again. She says it will have only one word repeated throughout the entire text. But I told her that it defeats the purpose of an LTE. In the original FlamingChickens LTE, one of the very first things that is written is "I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste". Okay, I just made a webpage for her LTE (it's gonna be an actual LTE this time). Stay tuned for "The Best Longest Text Ever", as she calls it. I think it should have just been called "KKs Longest Text Ever" or something, but whatever. She types really slow, but I hope her LTE will be successful nonetheless. Warning: if you do go and read her LTE, she spoils Spiderman: Far From Home at the very beginning, so be careful about that. In fact, she's basically typing the entire plot of the movie. Well, that's one way to increase your LTE's length, I guess. My sister is listening to her terrible songs instead of writing her LTE. Well, she has her LTE page open, but she's not writing anything and is singing instead. Actually, she's writing stuff now, so ignore everything I said previously. She's still writing the entire plot. Her LTE is now 2,000 characters, which isn't very long, but she's only been working on it for an hour. Plus she's a slow typer. She types everything with one hand. It might take a while for her LTE to get to this level. But assuming she keeps writing it and doesn't forget about it after today, it'll get pretty long eventually. I still need to write 7,000 characters today. My sister is watching a cringy video made by our old elementary school. They became a French immersion school after I left. She found one of the videos I was in... oh god, I can't stand to look at that video. It hurts me to think about those days. My sister's LTE webpage has text now! Maybe I should create a page linking to all the LTEs I know about. I think I'll do that. Boom, it is done. I think I'm gonna also put a link to it on this page. There, that's done as well. Guys, I'm not sure if I'm gonna make it to 15,000. I still have 5,000 characters to go (I was completely off earlier, I don't have 7,000 left to go), and there's not much left of the day. In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to make a goal for the day in the first place. After all, LTE writing is supposed to be fun! Sort of. There's zero need to make unneccesary deadlines. I think it just reduces the fun, as well as the part of my life that isn't just writing huge walls of text. From here on out, I declare character-per-day goals abolished. I will no longer make attempts to write a certain amount in a single day. I should have listened to my past self, who said not to do goals every day. But I didn't, and now I regret it. But anyways, here's a fun fact about this LTE: excluding my upcoming usage, the pronoun "he" is only used twice in this LTE, and they both refer to my dad. On the other hand, the pronoun "she" is used forty times! Almost all of these refer to my sister. Only one refers to my mom. I guess I just really like talking about the weird stuff my sister does. But not as much as being meta and talking about my own LTE. Here's another fun fact: "LTE" is the fourteenth most common word in this text! That's insane. It's more common than words you'd expect to be common, like "you", "I'm", "for", "be", "about", "was", and so on. I really need to talk about other things once in a while. But since I have zero creativity, I always resort to talking about the same topics. From what I've seen, most other LTEs are pretty diverse, but mine isn't at all. Honestly, this is likely the most boring LTE to read. But my absolute lack of creativity means it's probably gonna stay that way for a long time. I'm tired, so I'm gonna go to sleep. Maybe I'll be more creative by tomorrow. Probably not. Anyways, goodnight. Hey, I'm back, and I don't feel any more creative. But I did have a dream last night, so I'm gonna talk about that. Last night, I dreamt that I was in one of our old houses, and I saw that someone made a video roasting Viesa. They talked about how you shouldn't say "dog" in Viesa, because appearantly "deeg" is bad or something? I don't know. Then they said the rule where W becomes V is weird, but I don't remember the reason they said it. I didn't really care about how they roasted my language. Then I watched a Minecraft video for whatever reason, and then the dream ended. How do other LTE writers have so many topics to talk about? All I ever talk about is either LTEs themselves, or the fact that all I ever talk about is LTEs. There's no diversity. I very rarely talk about anything else. And when I do, it's usually about languages and lasts only a few sentences. There, I deleted it. Oh, you don't have any context. Basically I wrote a bunch of depressing stuff, then I decided to delete it all. I knew I was going to regret it later, in the same way I regret writing all that stuff about furries. Not that I think there's anything wrong with being a furry, it's just that it personally makes me uncomfortable looking back on it. I'm not even into that stuff as much anymore. I don't watch furry YouTube, and I don't talk about how much I want a fursuit/go to a convention. That's a part of me that's slowly disappearing. Okay, I'm gonna stop talking about that, because I literally just said how I regret talking about it in this text. You know, I've been feeling kind of down about this LTE lately, because as I just mentioned, all I ever talk about is this LTE itself, there's no diversity, blah blah blah. It's especially been like that ever since the four month gap. In fact, I barely talked about LTEs before that gap. It's like I lost all my creativity after four months. You know what? I'm officially gonna say this: If, for some reason, you are reading this before you decide you want to start reading this entire text, READ EVERYTHING FROM "WOW, IT HAS BEEN A WHILE" TO HERE AT YOUR OWN RISK, BECAUSE YOU WILL LIKELY DIE OF BOREDOM DUE TO THE MONOTONOUS TOPICS! There, now I'm gonna try and forget that half this LTE is the same exact boring topic. I will also try to avoid writing about the same exact boring topic for the rest of this text. Let's celebrate the End of Monotonous Topics (EMT) by talking about how we (my sister and I) had lunch and did various other things with our grandpa! So grandpa asked if we wanted to have lunch and spend an afternoon with him, and we said yes. Then he picked us up, and we went to a nearby town where we had lunch, went to a museum which was a house built in 1909 as well as the town's first hospital, and got ice cream from what is appearently one of the best ice cream places in the country, according to grandpa. So today was a fun day. I'm gonna go now. Bye! Hey, I'm back. That's the fifth time I've said that. I need to come up with more original... nah, whatever. Anyways, I had a dream last night which was basically a whole movie I don't remember most of. All I remember is playing a keyboard at the store for some reason, and that the dream ended with a random car horn. Oh, and there was Minecraft involved in the beginning, which I'm pretty sure is becoming a recurring theme in my dreams. I don't know why that happened, because I rarely play Minecraft anymore. Do any of y'all remember the DVD screensaver meme? That was one of my favorite memes. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, many DVD players had this screensaver where it was a DVD logo bouncing around the screen. The big moment that everyone anticipates is when the logo hits the corner of the screen perfectly, because, well, it's just so SATISFYING! I used to watch a livestream that was literally just this screensaver running endlessly. And when it hit the corner, it was a huge celebration for both me and everyone else watching. I got so excited when the logo hit the corner. My computer's screensaver is even still a DVD screensaver. But nowadays when I see it hit the corner, I don't have as much enthusiasm as I used to. I've just seen it too many times for it to be exciting anymore. Plus, the meme isn't even a thing anymore. I doubt that livestream is even still running. But you never know, so I'm gonna check to see if it's still going. Oh wow, it is! That was the last thing I expected to see in July 2019. But only four people are watching it, which makes sense. The title now says "DVD Logo Screensaver For 1 Year", even though it hasn't quite been going on for a year. But when it hits that point, perhaps that's when it will finally end? It should have ended months ago, if you ask me. Yup, I was right. There's a countdown on the livestream to when it ends, and it says 181 days, 9 hours, 12 minutes, and 3 seconds. Wow, the corner hit and wall hit numbers are much bigger now. The most corner hits I'd seen is around 1400 or so, but now it's at 4776! The wall hits used to be in the hundred-thousands, now it's at over two and a half million! Hello, I have returned. There, I came up with something original to say! Anyways, I just combined every single LTE I know of (including this one) and put it onto one single page on a Wikia wiki called "No Rules Wiki". That wiki exactly as you would expect from the title. I found it a while ago, and I thought it was about time I made a contribution, even if pasting over half a million characters into a single article is breaking some rule... I've been wanting to make Viesa an actual conlang for so long now. I think it's long overdue at this point. Hey, I'm back again. These sections are getting shorter and shorter each day. But oh well. I just discovered how much I like the word "number". I don't know why, but it's just so fun to say! I think I've liked that word ever since I was a toddler learning my numbers! I remember thinking it was a fun word even back then. At that time I had two little electronic toys: one was orange and for numbers, and one was purple and for letters. I'm pretty sure those were the colors. I also vaguely remember having a fan that lit up and displayed custom messages. I haven't seen anything like that since then. All I hear right now is Baby Shark being blasted upstairs. You know that song, right? I don't know who doesn't know it at this point. I can't think of a single person I've seen that doesn't know what that song is. Dang, ever since the EMT I haven't been writing as much in this text. Looks like LTEs were all I could talk about. Oh well. How many times have I said "oh well"? Probably a lot. About eight times, in fact. I'm back again. I went a full day without writing anything into this LTE yesterday! There were a lot of things happening that day, so I didn't feel like writing. I could've written at least a little bit, but I didn't. Time for me to use this LTE as my dream journal yet again! I had a dream where my domain was "exin" (or something like that) instead of "whiletrue", so that was a thing. I also had a dream where there was this game that I thought existed in the real world, but it didn't. Dreams do that sometimes. I don't remember much about the game, but it involved the Simpsons, I guess? Also, I was in a weird store where they had an... iCarly laptop? And a bunch of gift cards. That's all I remember. For now, at least. My sister does not like synthwave. She says "it's repetitive", "the sounds they use don't sound like music", and she doesn't like how it doesn't have lyrics. First of all, she's hypocritical because she always listens to the same songs on repeat. And why does it matter that it doesn't have words? Why does she think every single piece of music in existence has to have words? YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR OPINIONS THERE! (That was a reference to a cringy GoAnimator that no one reading this will get, unless you came to this website from my YouTube channel which you subscribed to during my OS video days). Anyways, synthwave is objectively the best genre of music. I remember hearing HOME - Resonance for the first time in a Discord voice chat, and it was magical. I wish I could listen to that song for the first time again. That was how I got into synthwave. You know what my favorite color combination is? Yellow text on a magenta background. Oh, and don't forget the Comic Sans. That is just pure beauty right there. In fact, it's used in the first frame (well, close enough) of "history of the entire world, i guess", which makes me love that video even more. We're at 60,000 characters, 1,000 sentences, and 12,000 words! Weird how all those counts hit such round numbers in one day, huh? I need to stick to the EMT, so I should stop talking about that. My sister is attempting to build a Lego city. Her goal is to have three buildings, since she doesn't have THAT much Lego. Have you noticed how quickly I've been switching topics in this text? That's because I can't talk about anything for a long time. That is, unless that thing is languages or LTEs. I am currently trying to revive a language my sister and I started making a while back. Sometimes my sister has days when she doesn't hate languages for some reason, then she ends up starting one. But of course, she regained her hate and abandoned it. Now I'm the only one working on the language. By the way, the language is called Lazay, which was the successor to Zula, the first language we made together which is now deleted. We started writing the language on paper, but then I started a Google Doc. I'm sure the papers are still here somewhere. I'm just too lazy to find them. I’m back again. I haven’t been ending these sections with goodbyes recently. But whatever. We’re on our way to IKEA to get a dresser for my room. We’re listening to Queens of the Stone Age right now, and I’m just waiting for “Fortress” to come on. I sing that song in Viesa, but I make up half of the lyrics. It goes: Ванавар јак фиртрас кува, ма башег ђара, ја сок. Try and translate that! The song is playing now. I like this song. We’re back from IKEA now. Actually, we’ve been home for hours now, and we’ve already built the dresser. My computer crashed (but don’t worry, I started writing this in Google Docs on my phone), and now Google Chrome won’t open. So I have to use Microsoft Edge for now. I’m gonna sleep now. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back. My sister is brushing my back with a hairbrush, and I don't know why. I asked her what I should write about (because I have zero creativity), and she said I should write about that. I'm gonna type whatever comes to my head now. Hi, I'm a boring human being who has zero creativity whatsoever and still happens to be writing an LTE. Isn't that insane? How could this be? Nobody knows, and nobody will ever know. It is a strange mystery that has yet to be solved. Hmm, I wonder if I should go and eat pancakes now? I'm so random right now. In fact, there's an entire subreddit for that: r/iamsorandom. You should check it out! I mean, you don't really have to, but it would be nice if you did. I use Reddit a lot, but I only use it for language-related stuff. Well, I make posts in language-related subreddits, but the non-language subs that I look at are ones that I don't post anything to, because I know nothing about literally anything that isn't languages. And heck, I don't even know much about languages! I only make English codes and call them "conlangs". Sort of. I usually don't actually call them conlangs, but I use them for such purposes. I speak Viesa as if it were a real language, but it simply is not. Why did I make Viesa in the first place? Well, you see, it all started out as a joke for April Fools' Day. I called it "the new universal language", despite it literally being a cipher of English. What!? A cipher of English being a universal language? How silly! What a funny joke, right? Maybe? Somewhat? Anyways, I then made a SECOND VERSION! DUN DUN DUN! This second version had CLICKY SOUNDS which, spoiler alert, dissapear in the next version of Viesa. Sad, right? RIP CLICKS 2018-2018 NEVER FORGET! I also added WACKY GRAMMAR STUFF and PRONOUNS! WOAH! How crazy! Then I made the next version: VERSION 3.0! This version added CYRILLIC! (you know, that alphabet the Russians use, as well as the Serbs, whose version of the Cyrillic alphabet I stole for Viesa. Hehehe!) And that's the entire history of Viesa, explained in a Zany way! Do you like how I capitalized "Zany" there? Aren't capital letters so cool? They let you YELL AND SCREAM AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! They add EXCITEMENT! And most of all, they let you capitalize words like This. lowercase letters are also cool. without them, we'd all be yelling and screaming all the time. That would be pretty tiring, wouldn't it? I see two water bottles. One is empty, while the other still has some water in it. The empty one is blue, and the one with the water is pink. I should also mention that the blue one is mine, while the pink one is my sister's. I got that water bottle because I lost my other one at school. But GUESS WHAT? I FOUND IT IN THE LOST AND FOUND! Wow! Now I had two water bottles. How Wacky and Crazy and Zany and Bizzare and all those adjectives that perfectly describe this epic moment! Wow, writing your mind is a great way to increase your LTEs length! Before I was actually THINKING about what I was writing. But now I barely do, and it's greatly improving my LTE! Except the overuse of capital letters might throw the reader off guard a little because of how sparingly I've used them in the past, but oh well. I could fix it, but I don't feel like it. I want to continue writing, but I need to sleep now. Goodnight! Hi, I'm back again. My computer crashed AGAIN, and I was ignorant enough to not save my work, so that means I have to start this part of the text all over again. That's quite unfortunate. But did I mention that my Google Chrome is working again? That's the good news. It's good news because Google Chrome has all my logins, websites, and stuff like that. Hopefully you know what I mean when I say that. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I don't even know what I mean right now! I'm probably insane right now. Especially since I'm writing this right now, as I have been for about 18 days minus the four month gap... I think. I hope I did that right. As I've said before, I'm bad at math. My sister just read the entirety of what I've written today for some reason. My sister just sang "I want your computer to crash again because I'm evil". She IS evil if she wants my computer to crash. At least I'll have this section saved. In fact, right now I'm pressing Ctrl+S after every sentence! Including this one. And this one. Also this one. I think you get the point now. My sister keeps typing into this LTE without my consent, and I keep having to delete it all. It's pretty annoying. Hey, flashback to when I said that way at the beginning of this text! You know, the part where I talk about the Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. You know what else is said a hundred something times (in this LTE)? The letter J. So far it's been used 115 times in this LTE. That's your Interesting LTE Fact of the Day! Well, not really "daily", but whatever. Here's a story: Once upon a time, people got tired of starting off their stories with "Once upon a time", so they stopped doing that. But one person decided not to stop using "Once upon a time", and used it at the beginning of this story. And that person is ME! The end. Wasn't that a lovely story? You're probably not thinking that. Again, I'm not creative in any way whatsoever. That's why I don't usually write stories and instead write giant walls of text full of meaningless information, like the one and only WhileTrue's Longest Text Ever that you're reading right now. Hopefully nobody died of boredom from reading between "Wow, it has been a while" and the EMT. That's the most boring part of the LTE! 90% of it is just me talking about LTEs themselves. How uninteresting is that? Very uninteresting. Penguins. What are they? I don't know. What am I even writing right now? I haven't a clue. Isn't it weird that I said "haven't a clue" like that? Normally "haven't" isn't used if it's alone as a verb, as in "I haven't my keys". Who says that? Nobody, that's who. And yet "I haven't a clue" is an actual thing I've heard people say. Anyways, AFRICA! That was random, but let's discuss it anyway. Africa is a well-known song by Toto. It's a good song. I can kinda sorta play it on piano? Maybe? I don't know. Another song I can play on the piano is All Star by Smash Mouth. You know, the Shrek song? Anyways, I once made a video called "All Star but it's played on a Sesame Street piano" and it got almost a million views. It's been stuck at 900,000 for what seems like forever now. I'm gonna check to see if it's at a million now. I doubt it, though. Nope, still at 926,000 views. And I doubt it's gonna get any more, to be honest. It had a good run though. My sister is chugging applesauce. She thinks she's epic because of it. I don't know anymore. I seem to keep saying that after everything I type at this point. It's strange. Hello, I have returned after yet another long absence. When was the last time I added to this? I think it was somewhere in July. So yeah, it’s been three months, as it is now October 17, 2019. The end of the decade is approaching fast. I’m a bit excited, because I’ll have significant memories from more than just one decade! My earliest significant memories started in Kindergarden, which was in 2010. This means that I only really remember one decade. But now that an entirely new decade is coming up, I’ll be able to remember another! Part of me feels like I shouldn’t be excited over this, since the boundaries between years is arbitrary, and a decade is 10 years only because we count in base 10, so if we counted in base 12 or something, a decade would be 12 years long. That was kind of a run-on sentence, but I don’t really feel like making this text perfect, anyway. Have you heard of the Library of Babel? libraryofbabel.info is a website containing every possible combination of the lowercase letters a-z, space, comma, and period. The library is divided into hexagonal chambers. Each hex contains four walls. Each wall contains three shelves. Each shelf contains 32 volumes. Each volume contains 410 pages of 3200 characters each. Everything you could ever say or write is on this website. Even this LTE! See for yourself: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte. Okay, that’s only the first bit of it, but every other bit of this LTE is somewhere in the library! In fact, here’s the next bit: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte:1. It’s split up into about 20 different pages. I don’t feel like putting links to all of them here. It also removes punctuation that the library doesn’t use, like the exclamation point, question mark, colon, and so on. But it’s pretty mind-blowing stuff, if you ask me. If you try and browse the library yourself though, you probably won’t find much more than total gibberish. It’s crazy to think that everything we could ever possibly say or write is massively outweighed by meaningless strings of letters and punctuation.
• Maja Back Lakic 6 september 2021
  Fin text! :)
• Annonnym 6 september 2021
  JÄVLA NEGER DU FÖRSTÖR SIDAN!!!
• Viktor Karlsson DRe Umeå 6 september 2021
  Skip to content Rainbow Fluffysheep For Randomness! HOME NEWS THE LONGEST TEXT EVER! THE LONGEST BOOK EVER! CONTACT OTHER COOL THINGS The Longest Text Ever! I am going to do it. I have made up my mind. These are the first few words of the new… the best … the Longest Text In The Entire History Of The Known Universe! This Has To Have Over 35,000 words the beat the current world record set by that person who made that flaming chicken handbooky thingy. I might just be saying random things the whole time I type in this so you might get confused a lot. I just discovered something terrible. autocorrect is on!! no!!! this has to be crazy, so I will have to break all the English language rules and the basic knowledge of the average human being. I am not an average human being, however I am special. no no no, not THAT kind of special ;). Why do people send that wink face! it always gives me nightmares! it can make a completely normal sentence creepy. imagine you are going to a friend’s house, so you text this: [ see you soon 🙂 ] seems normal, right? But what is you add the word semi to that colon? (Is that right? or is it the other way around) what is you add a lorry to that briquettes? (Semi-truck to that coal-on) anyway, back to the point: [ see you soon 😉 ]THAT IS JUST SO CREEPY! is that really your friend, or is it a creepy stalker watching your every move? Or even worse, is it your friend who is a creepy stalker? maybe you thought it was your friend, but it was actually your fri end (let me explain: you are happily in McDonalds, getting fat while eating yummy food and some random dude walks up and blots out the sun (he looks like a regular here) you can’t see anything else than him, so you can’t try to avoid eye contact. he finishes eating his cheeseburger (more like horseburgher(I learned that word from the merchant of Venice(which is a good play(if you can understand it(I can cause I got a special book with all the words in readable English written on the side of the page(which is kinda funny because Shakespeare was supposed to be a good poet but no-one can understand him(and he’s racist in act 2 scene1 of the play too))))))) and sits down beside you , like you are old pals (you’ve never met him before but he looks like he could be in some weird cult) he clears his throat and asks you a very personal question. “can i have some French fries?” (I don’t know why there called French fries when I’ve never seen a French person eat fries! all they eat it is stuff like baguettes and crêpes and rats named ratty-two-ee which is a really fun game on the PlayStation 2) And you think {bubbly cloud thinking bubble} “Hahahahahhahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehheheheheh…..heeeheehe..hehe… sigh. I remember that i was just about to eat one of my fries when I noticed something mushy and moist and [insert gross color like green or brown] on the end of one of my fries! now I can give it to this NERD!! ” (yes he is a nerd because all he does all day is watch the extended editions of the hobbit, lord of the rings and star wars and eat fat cakes (what the heck is a fat cake? I think it might be like a Twinkie or something)and twinkies(wow so is doesn’t really matter which is which because he eats both(i may have just done that so I didn’t have to Google what a fat cake is (right now I am typing on my iPhone 3gs anyway, which has a broken antenna so i can’t get internet anyway (it’s actually a really funny story that i’ll tell you sometime)))and sit in his man cave with his friend named Joe (an ACTUAL friend, not a fri end)and all Joe does is watch sports like football with bob and all bob does is gamble ferociously (don’t ask(it means he buys all those bags of chips that say “win a free monkey or something if you find a banana in your bag*”(if there is a little star it means there is fine print so I always check the back of the package) *flips over the package* okay, it says: “one of our workers accidentally threw a banana in the packing machine and we don’t want to get sued so we did this promotion thing” cool. Oh wow, this is salt and vinegar! my favourite! i hate cheese and onion.))and that’s pretty much his life, he lives in Jamaica with Naruto and his friends) so you give him that gross fri end he throws up all over you and me and the worker behind the counter who was still making an onion, and THAT is the story of the fri end, not a friend who somehow remembered your name and your phone number / email so he could text you saying he would come to your house soon. *finally takes a breath after typing a few hundred words about fri-ends* so what now? i know, i know, you think i ramble too much and use too many brackets (i don’t) but now i am going to talk about my amAZEing day. first i woke up, ate choco pops for breakfast even tho i always hate it when people say that cause i get jealous and super hungry. then i… umm… yea! that was my day. you know that other person i mentioned before? that flaming chicken person? WELL. i will steal something from that person but do it better. i will… drum roll please … badabadabadabadabadabadabummmmmmmmmmmchshchshchshchshbadabadboumboumpoopoopichypichypichypowpow-crash! *a drum roll was just playing in the background* that drumroll was so long i forget what i was talking about. *scrolls up to see what he was writing about* oh yea! i will make my own FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK! what things do i like? instead of flaming it could be rainbow, instead of chicken it could be fluffysheep and instead of handbook it could be handbook (not very creative, i know) but the total complete name is now to rainbow fluffysheep handbook! to make life easier for you guys, instead of taking random rules out of book willy nilly, i will take them out using my favourite numbers! so, section 5040 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook states that the king of all oddly coloured farm animals (thats me!) is allowed to tell you any part out of this book randomly or if it is his one of his favorite numbers! 5040 is a great number because it is divisible by 60 integers which i don’t know. i’m tired. it is 10:41 and i am getting sleepy… hey hey hey! an intruder! remember that from pokepals rulers of time and darkness or something like that! with piplup and sunflora and chimchar! whaoh piplup is really hard to write on a tiny qwerty keyboard! try it! i realised that asdf is actually written in order on the qwerty keyboard! (just in case you didn’t know, asdf is an amazing short video clips cartoony thing on youtube i first learned bout on flipnote hatena, which is now shut down 😦 ) what if one day they get rid of the qwerty keyboard completely! i will type it out for you just in case one day they get rid of it. qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm. there u go. Goodbye. I’m back! i decided that i should tell you about fonts. i always used the same font for my whole life, called arial. the reason is probably because it is on the top of the list in alphabetical order, and i was too lazy to scroll all the way down. only a few months ago did i finally decide to change my mind. i scrolled for what seemed to be an eternity, and i finally got to… are you ready … arial black. yep, that was my big SCROLLING ADVENTURE! just yesterday, i was typing something on google docs and i found the new best font : roboto. its great! i could choose from FIVE different thicknesses. isn’t that amazing? right now we are driving behind a really slow “farm plastics collection” semi. i think i know someone obsessed with pokemon, but i can’t tell you who it is. he keeps making pokepals references and stuff. wow! you are a very loyal reader! if you have REALLY made it this far then you… get a gold star on your loyalty chart! good job! this is looking to be the longest text ever, considering that this was all written in one day. i don’t understand sandwiches. if you were to eat bread, mayo and tomatoes separately it would be disgusting! you know all those fancy magazines/restaurants that always have really fancy food pictures with meat and brussels sprouts and all the old people say “wow! that looks great!” and you think {bubble thing} “it looks like the worst thing anyone could ever eat” and the you eat it and it tastes surprisingly… WORSE than you imagined! gotta go… im back! ive ive got stuff to say! your probably thinking… HoW DoEs He HaVe So MuCh FrEe TiMe?!?! And the answer is… i don’t. that’s right. this isn’t just some SIDE project. i’ve gotta make time to do this if wanna get the world record. for all i know, the flaming chicken opponent who i will refer to from now on as sam (i don’t know why) is probably still adding to her posts. (i think i picked sam because it sounds like ham which is like cooked meat and so is flaming chicken, so you will remember that now ) i am officially going to make a quote from the rainbow fluffysheep handbook of knowledge and prestige (sounds catchy, huh?) . section 777 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook STATES that the king of oddly colored farm animals (thats me!) is allowed to use whatever font he wants to. [now, i know what your thinking reader, that has nothing to do with anything. but it will come in handy someday (maybe)] sam makes me feels sick! im offended! (probably because i’m jealous of how much is written on that website(i dont even know how to make a website)) I’VE JUST BEEN READING THIS AND I HAVE DISCOVERED A CONSPIRACY! THAT’S RIGHT, I AM WORKING FOR DOCTOR SUESS! YES! i will prove it to you. i mentioned ham and sickness so green eggs and ham somehow! (why is he called doctor suess anyway? he’s not even a doctor *citation needed* and his books are kinda dumb! (funny considering i’m the one making that statement)) talking about eggs, aren’t eggs practically unborn chicken membrane? wouldn’t it be scary if you were casually eating your brembudder (riotous robots reference (wow! serious compilation of alliteration dedication!)) and drinking your tae wit’ da guv’na (england doesn’t even have a govna! *citation needed*)(i’m not even racist i’m just quoting an accent of a race) and you go to crack an egg for your brekkie and BOOM! and unborn chicken embryo starts running towards you, picks up a knife and starts screaming “MAMA! MAMA!” you are so scared that you grab the nearest weaponry (a spoon) and poke the hideous beast. it is unaffected. luckily, the govener of Berwick-Upon-Tweed throws a sugar cube directly into the chicks mouth! as you know, sugar is EXTREMELY poisonous to chicken embryos *citation needed* (no more citations!) and you are saved! i’m sick and tired of citations! i will quote from the official rainbow fluffysheep handbook! section 12345679 (all the mathematicians are nodding their heads while the OCD people are twitching nervously in the corner) says that the king of oddly coloured farm animals does not have any obligation to write if a false piece of information needs a citation. great! now i feel like a free person! free i tell you, free! free from the prison cell i call the boundaries of untrue info. i think since im going to be the president of somewhere someday, i should have great speech here it goes: Hello great people of [name of place]! i am here to tell you; I am going to make [name of place] great again! i am going to lower taxes, but increase happiness! i am going to buy dog sweaters and bowls for people with dogs, and do some renovations on peoples tents! yes, this truly is a new era, the era of Epicness And Coolness! {and so, his tale lived on forever, being passed on generation to generation, living vividly in the hearts of the people.(that last bit sounded like the ending of an Asterix comic.)} i will now PROVE that all these things can happen. the first thing i said was that i will make America (i know, i know, i gave it away and told you the name) place grape again. (yes, that is what i said, bear with me here) i hereby DECLARE that every piece of American soil must be covered in vineyards. someone told me i should do that. i think i heard it through the grapevine (bad jokethat nobody understands) the next step is to lower taxes and raise happiness. to lower taxes i will get rid of all hospitals, and spend the taxes all on building fun playgrounds. this in turn, raises happiness (for the kids and for the non-injured if you know what i mean). finally, i will buy dog sweaters (on sale at your local liquidation world!) and dog bowls (just use little human bowls maybe?) and last but not least i will do renos on peoples tents (send chip and joanna from Fixer Upper to all the camping places). and, since all i said was (partial) truth, it will be a great era. anyway, gotttttttttttaaaaaaa ggggoooooo. bbbbbuuuuuuyyyy! im back. i just had thanksgiving while listening to christmas music and it was fun. we had bacon, ham and chicken but no turkey. its fall, but it’s ACTUALLY winter secretly. im watching a funny show. i’m back (even though i never said i was gone so you might be confused) hello loyal reader! if you have gotten this far without SKIMMING THROUGH then you are probably either lying, extremely bored (but not after reading this whole thing!) or VERY and i mean VERY dedicated. or all three. you know those homeless people that sit on the ground and ask for money? i think its all a conspiracy! after all, uow can they afford those dogs, sharpies, cardboard and enough english education to write “need help”? back in the roman times, only the richest, most important people could get things like that! you know the new fad, ‘black surfboards’? (neither did i until 15 seconds ago) someone related to me thinks they look really cool, i think they are neat but SOMEONE also related to me thinks they are bad because they would get warped. someWHERE ohohohohohohover the rainbowwwwww that reminds me, i was doing my normal thing, when BOOM! i started typing NONSENSE. so here it is, but be warned. its SCARILY NONSENSICAL. HeRe GoEs: The Epicness – Hi how are you? Smells good ya! Think about that buddy (shower time) heheheheHAHAHA well thanks a lot so called buddy. Random things: joe be utterly hatin. Dat be da bomb – Tink about tanking me. Interview: how does Joe like his pepperoni? “I be liken how I always eat it.” What first comes to Bobby’s mind when I say flabbergast? I don’t know, Flapper dress maybe that be it (20s style) hey dere ma-name JeFf… Hell Ome Ine Ame Isej oe hey hey hey! an intruder! (DID U NEVER WATCH POKÉPALS?!?! im offended.) ANYHOO, the cattle hopped above the earth orbiting asteroid (a TWIST on an old tale) Are you OCD? Then don’t read anymore: :):):):):):):):):):);):):):):):) OR: 8)8)8)8)8)8)8)8)9)8)8)8) (I Know It’s Annoying} ocd&gmail.com [i annoyed you again) —A Nice Story— {one day an old man said yonder} heyyyyyyy 😉 (WHY DID HE WINK AT ME IT’S SO CREEPY) {the old man continued} hellllloooooo there young laddddiiee boyyyy (I NEED TO GET AWAY FROM THIS MAN) i think I’ve… SEEN YE ARE OUND BAE FAR HAVANT AYE? 😉 (TAKE ME AWAY FROM THIS HIDEOUS BEAST YOU CALL A MAN! I WAS ONCE A HAPPY BOY, AND THEN HHHEEE STARTED TALKING!!!?!?!?! THIS IS UNNNNNACCEPTABLE!! :):):):):):):) mwahahaha! 😉 MY ATTACK PLAN IS READY!) {THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED} 😉 kills -> 🙂 —The End— Today is the day of justice. Today the world will be DESTROYED! Mwahahahah! Someday the whole peanut of existence will be chipped into The Edge. But then again, maybe it will be forever remembered as the one who saved the mintrolls from the mighty Orc king, and the one who was forever changed; transformed into a giant floating peanut. hello it’s me i was wondering if after all these years you would like to meet -> hey chow gotta beat chow gotta beat chow Hey HEY____________________W W W W W[]_____/\__<>___/\_____ GEOmetry DAESH One day i want to fie to da MOOOOOON!! aheyhayhoy. soametime the sky looke BLOOE, but it actually YALLOE. af yow cane andarstend dis santanse dan yowr umaizang. somedaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, OVer theRAINBOW, WAY UP HI,Oe’r da skie -> @,|3,[,|),£,|=,€,|-|,|,7,|<,|_,/\/\,/\/,[],|*,0-,|~,$,-|-,\_/, \/,\/\/,}{,¥,%. |-|£||[], /\/\¥ /\/@/\/\£ |$ |3[]|3|3¥. | @/\/\ \/\/|~|-|-|/\/€ |/\/ @ $£[|~£-|- [[]|)£ []/\/|¥ @ |-|\_//\/\@/\/ [@/\/ \_//\/|)£|~$-|-@/\/|). That was it. i know what your thinking (i think i do at least) but i’m not going to tell you. BURNED! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FEELS THE BURN! sorry, i had to much sugar 🙂 gotta go you know bro do. I’m back! and i gotta new conspiracy for u! you know how EVERY child hates brussels sprouts! this is why i think so. Brussels sprouts were happily growing in their belgiumy home. everyone loved them! they were the chicken nuggets of the vegetable world. when suddenly… DA DADA DA! Hitler comes to Belgium (dont read this if you don’t want to. hitler was happily taking over Austria and Poland when he then decided to take over France but France built a big wall thing to keep him out on the border between france and Germany so all Hitler did was go through Belgium to get to France and THAT is when our story is taking place.) and he makes all the brussles sprouts taste bad simply because he is near them! the Mulligan family is about to go to McRonalds and order 43 brussels sprouts (you would have to have been paying very close attention and know some math to understand that joke) and when they get them (after lots of quarrels with the manager (a bit of a parker square if you ask me (you probably don’t understand that either(if you want to feel like you know all these inside jokes, just look em up on the web! your sure to find the videos made by lumberpile(close enough))))) they taste so bad you throw up everywhere! Hitler may have caused WWII, but he also caused brussels sprouts to taste bad. so there you go. why do they always write WWII? (if you can’t tell, they always write double-u double-u eye eye) wouldn’t it be more accurate to write WW11 or WW2? If i keep writing at this rate, i’ll beat the world record in no time! i might even print it all off and write a novel! too bad i probably don’t have any readers. hello there non existent reader! i hope you are having fun. and i hope you are not injured cuz of that whole ‘no hospitals’ conundrum. what else should i talk about? how bout Minecraft? just in case you don’t know, Minecraft is a fun game where you place blocks and stuff and you play with friends and most people who play it are like 10 years old but I not and i still have fun and you can’t judge me because I wanna be an engineer and if I wanna be an engineer then i should probably not waste my time playing games wow that went downhill from benefitting me really quickly. Anyway, I prefer the Redstone side of things (Redstone means wiring and stuff). I build stuff like 5 piston extenders and auto wall builders and calculators and computers (not those stupid computers that use command blocks (just in case you don’t know people, command blocks are like CHEATING THINGS and if I am talking about them i will probably not be happy)) and stuff cause i wanna be an inventor. I also do c++ and make things like search engines, text adventures and cookie clickers! My current BIGGEST project is 600 lines long and I don’t know if that’s a lot but it sure seems like it to me! (when I was typing in the word lines it auto corrected it to ‘lies’) what’s with the whole naming appliances fad going on? (There isn’t really one) like that vacuum named ‘Henry’ that I have. I have the box here and it says on it it can twist the top part which I never knew before! I just woke up but the anticipation of whether this whole Henry twist bit this is true is killing me and I think I might wake up just to see if its true. Nahhhhhhhhhhh! This text is getting so long it’s getting laggy just typing on the same notes on my phone! I gotta start a new one. See you in another life, brother (Desmond in Lost reference). iiitttttttttsssss Johnny! I’m someone mcmann and today we are taking with bee mc wasp. *clapclapclapclapclapapplauseapplauseonelonelymaninthebackscreamsbecausehegotlosthewastryingtogettonemotheclownfishmoviebutnowthereisagiantbeeslashwasprightthereandheisreallyscared* Thank you, thank you! Now, mister Bee, what you do all day long? Well I’ve gotta say Johnny that all i do is spend 14 hours a day eating and then spitting what I just ate into a residential area! Wow, that sound like my great aunt large (i typed in Marge but it auto corrected)! *Laughterlaughterapplause* Then what happens to that SPICY MILK?(Jim Gaffigan) It’s actually not milk, Johnny that regurgitated blob is then stolen from us and eaten by people! well… That’s…. Amazing. *suddenly feels nauseous* Well *blech* it’s time for a *hurl* commercial break. Yes, real breaks! (Every commercial is about breaks)*** (fake Bronx accent) do you like twinkies!?!? Yeaaaaaaaa! Do you like roast turkey! Yeaaaaaaaaa! Then try the all new exclusive limited time only in a store near you… (Anticipation is building up more then the mould in my bathroom) The kit kat turkatwinky! It is beautifully tasty *citation needed* ! Have a break, have a twinkiturkey [its the other way around, I think] …Next Commercial… (Annoying Hawaiian music) do you wanna go on a holiday (more music) then take a trip to (calm music that goes like ‘bowawawoh’) (sudden intense heavy rock) HAWAIYA! You can do great things like… Get eaten by sharks, fall in volcanos and get lost and sea! Buy tickets now for only e = mc^2 easy payments of a=2b +- _|2c -4ab—3c! [(man in background) ummm bob? … Yeap? … (Japanese) Det idit na codect spaech … Oh, we’ll we’re out our air time, sooooooo…] {kshshshshsh} -Next Commercial- has THIS ever happened to you? You are up to your normal everyday antics when… BOOM! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Your crash and BREAK your brand new 2004 ford mustang bike! It’s actually a tooth ow sand ant fore fjord moose tangy (a painful white mouth bone small ground up rock little hill building insect golfing safety viking ravine big deer sour patch kid bike) and didn’t have insurance! Buy some right now for only €1 a month (talks really fast) warning: not actual ‘insurance’, it’s actually ‘inch your ants’ which is a bag of inchworms and ants this company is not responsible for deep regret after purchases*** (clapclapclapclapclapapplauseapplause) Welcome back to AHAGAHAGGGHGHGHGHGGG!!!!!! [(sound over intercom) emergency -emergency! everyone evacuate!! Go go go!!] {you ask someone while running away} what happened!! (Man is panting and very tired (wait… He looks oddly familiar…)) the bee/wasp thing… It is stinging people! 😉 I knew it! It’s my fri end!?!? this whole thing is going down in an infinite spiral of nonsensical blubber! {poof} wow! That was a fun dream! That was my stuff today. Gotta go! I’m back! Someone related to me is making a huge campfire in our mudroom using only a tealight and matches! It’s sparking… And fizzing… And poof! {the room is filled with smoke and out of it walks a tall bearded man} hello there! You must be Bilbo Baggins, reader! Have you come to kill Smaug, the Fire Dragon? Or as Sauron would put it: ???????? (Yes, I speak Japanese, another random surprise DESTINED FOR GREEEEEAAAAATTTTTNEEESSS!) bochebobochebobocheedoooooooox2 CiTy Of StArS! I KNOW YOU’RE SHININNG FOR ME SITTIE UV SHTARS! I know your shinin just fore meyyyyyyy (lalalalalalalalaland won the oscars slash awards stuff and then they didn’t i think in 2017 heheheheheheheheheheheh) ***THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANOUNCMENT: i am not in a very good mood and my writing may be affected *** what’s up with SPRAY CHEESE! Like what the heck! Its like cheese but like in like a can!!! What is wrong with people! What was that person inventor of cheese in a bottle person thnminh! (ummm… Figure it out) he was like what the hey I want cheese but I don’t want cheese that comes in hard form cause then it is weird so if it comes in liquidy form then it seems more like real milk so its less FAKE! *Wheeze* Cheese is a Breeze *achoo!* (if you can’t figure THAT one out then you need to get your flubber out of here! (Flubber is that bouncy stuff in that movie where there is bouncy stuff that attaches to pope’s shoes while they play basketball (not popes, stupid auto-correct (speaking of hard things, that reminds me of the Hardy Boys who were like magicians or something(which reminds me of sailing the DIRTY ISLAND ESPAGNOL!))))) every day I’m shuffling: heyheyheyheyheyhey gangnam style like whop whop whop whop whop whop gangnam sssstttlllyyyeeetllllyypiie! Have you ever heard the song DOWN DD DOWN DD DOWN DD DOWN DOWN DOWN? WELL IT IS A COOL SONG WITH FASCINATING LYRICS HERE IT IS TYPED BY YOUR TOOTHY: To be or not to be That is the question What is nobler in the mind Through the toils of slings and arrows Of great fortune And when i slept i had a dream A dream of great sorrow And i will have that dream At least until tomorrow! UMM… WRONG ONE… HEHEHEH… WELL LET’S TRY AGAIN: Food & Drink: Apple (crunchy) Artichoke (chew before you swallow!) Avocado (replaces banana in cookies) Banana (replaces avocado in guacamole) Beef (burger) Beetroot (gotta good beat) Bun (for burgers) Burger (for buns) Cake (i’m gonna bake a caaake) Cantaloupe (an orange melon) Carrot (an orange banana?) Chicken (don’t be scared!) Dill pickle (not a gherkin) Egg (from a chicken) Eggplant (from a dead chicken turned into dirt by mushrooms) Fig (figrolls) Fish (i wish for a fish to decorate my dish) Grain (good rain) Hot sauce (frank hot sauce) Icecream (not even a real food!) Jam (not from grapes) Kebab (okay, bob) Lemon (sour orbiter (or bitter)) Melon( a green cantaloupe) Mince (beef/pie) Nut (he’s crazy!) Omelette (let me take your ohms which is a currency somewhere) Paska (what the hooey is that) Pasta (makes more sense) PeanutPickle (that sounds disgusting(were those separate?)) Pie (not from grapes) Pineapple (the apple from the pine tree) Pizza (pi*z*z*a) Quiche (pronounced keesh) Radish (doesn’t it look cool dude? it looks rad…ish) Steak (put a wooden stake in a cow to obtain) tictac (the clock goes tick tack tick tack) Turkey (not for MY thanksgiving) Turnip (kinda like a radish) Upsidedowncake (it’s the same as normal cake but upside down) Vinegar (eww) Whiskey (ewww) Wine (ewwww… STOP WINEING!) Yam (popeye says: i yam who i yam) Zucchini (for all the animals who live in the zookeeny) Wow! That was fun! Gotta Go Bro Yo Know! I’m back! If you have honestly made it THIS far, reader then you have just been promoted from ‘some reader’ to ‘stable keeper of the rainbow fluffysheep’. Isn’t that fantamismo? Somedddaaaayyyyydf oooooohhher three rainbowfluffysheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep there is hope! There is life! There are unicorns in the darkness! No more trolls! No more orcs! We are free, free from everything that’s bad! Great is the smorgasbord of a plethora of strawberries! Bootsandcatsandbootsandcatsandbootsandratsandchutesandratsandchutessandratsbandchutessandratsbanned! Yaaaaaaaa! Salut! Je m’appelle francais! French is absurd, French is the word! I don’t even remember typing that! It’s so late a night my eyes are bulging out of my sockets because of the brightness on my phone! Now, I know what your thinking. TURN DOWN THE BRIGHTNESS, KING OF RAINBOWFLUFFYSHEEP! I will tell you why I shall not. Because on an iPhone 3 there is no easy access to get to your brightness. That’s for the WIMP. I’m hardcore. That’s why I Have typed a step by step tutorial on how to change the brightness on an iphone3 for you to read, in the comfort of your own home! (Or wherever your exciting life takes you) 1. Click the button on the top right of the phone to turn it on. 2. Swipe from the left to the right on the bottom of the screen. 3. Type in your password and the phone will unlock to the home screen. 4. Click on the Settings App (Your Almost There!) 5. Click on the ‘Brightness/Wallpaper’ Tab. 6. GOOD JOB! ALL U HAVE TO DO IS SWIPE THE LITTLE BAR THINGY! that’s why I don’t do that. I don’t have THAT much time. I think. Halloo! I’m in London and I’m hangin out! Now I’m back though. This is extremely frightening. Whenever I type words then my phone reads it out to me. Strange.I just turned it off. Good thing too, since every time i heard it i turned around and punched the wall. Not out of fear for my life because of the impending imminent doom, but out of a pure piqued curiosity. Once you obliterate the wall once, every latter time you lose that satisfying crunch. One thing I have aspired to accomplish for a long time now is to make my own pun-themed conspiracy theory. Here goes: in section number 115132219018763992565095597973971522401 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook (i am very proud of that number by the way(*cue all geeks Laughing hysterically*)) STATES that the shearer of greatness (who’s that again?) has proof the the solvence of the illuminati (if you solve something, would it be called an act of solvence?) and forherbyshared proclaimences all right to own half of all southern states who share barbeque preferences (none([southern dialect] it ju bring a tear to ma eye knowin tha the founding fathers fought for freedum, an’ fer unitee. Ye still the states Connor decide on a preferred bar bee q sawse :()) even if he does not want them. And now gentlemen and ladies, I will prove once and for all that the illuminati … Is real. Here goes: So, as everyone knows, the illuminati is represented by the pyramid with an eye in the centre. Do you think that it is merely a COINCIDENCE that the first letter in illuminati is i, and I is pronounced ‘eye’? I THINK NOT! Let’s continue. What is the first thing you think of when you hear the word pyramid? Exactly! The first thing you think of is Egypt? Nooooo!! It’s that they’re big. Duh. So what is the first thing that you would say when seeing a pyramid? “Wow that’s big?” No of course not random audience members indicated by the two line things! You would make the sounds of a mesmerised chimp, like “Oooooh” and “Ahhhhhhh”. And I know how these two things are connected! What temperature would it be in Egypt? Hot, that’s what! So hot that it feels like you are cooking a pan. Ahhhhhhhhhh pan, to be precise! And what county sounds like apan? Japan? Now is it just a COINCIDENCE that that Japanese word for big is ‘Oo’? NOOO!!! These things are all connected, I just don’t fully know how yet. So, we know that the answer has something to do with being big, but what? for these kind of questions, you have to work backwards. I call this method, Reverse Solvency. Anyway, what did the rich (big) people do to the poor (not big) Egyptians around the time that the pyramids were built? Exactly! They sold em’ that sounds like soldier! In French that’s gendarme! Gender! That’s what they are trying to tell us! It’s so obvious, in front of our very EYEs from the beginning! So, what gender is associated with being big! (This is gonna be slightly offensive) Males, obviously! (I’m sorry 😦 *audience member calls out* don’t be sexist! Sorry, but you have to admit, men are usually fatter than women! “Hey, now you’re being sexist to males! We have our rights, you know!!! Chauvinists! Communists! We are great! Who insists? Communists! We will rule with hate!!! ” ummm actually I was saying that men are fatter because back in the time of the PYRAMIDS if you were fat you were considered wealthy. “Now your sexist to us again! Feminists rule! Feminists are great! We are going to rule with hate!!” If you both want to rule with hate , just hate each other equally so this can be over with!!!! Thank you. Anyway, back to the conspiracy) Where were we? Oh yes. Men! What word has men in it? Fishermen, of course! Fishermen caught a lot of fish, and what did the Egyptians have a lot of? Gods! Fishermen used to go slow in boats, so we can remove the g forces, and we a left with ‘od’. And where are the fishermen!?!? In the sea! The ‘c’! And what kind of fish do they catch? That’s right, the ‘Cod’! Now, we use are backwards method to come up with ‘Doc’. As in a doctor! What does a doctor do? Helps people who are sick! But do you know what the worst thing about doctors is? You still have the pay the doctors fee even if you are not sick! And mind you, the doctors fee is quite a large bill, and I wouldn’t want to go to the doctor not even for a bee sting! Alas, This is as far as I have gotten. Can anyone help me? Um yes, you? “Yes, I was just wondering what Big, men , ooo, not bees, Bills , and sickness have to so with the Illuminati! ” wait anonymous audience member say that again! “But like, it was a lot of words” [the writer remembers that he is not allowed to copy and paste, so he skips the dramatic scene where one character says his sentence again while the Maine character says aha! I think I got it!] “got what? The flu?” Who the heck are you? And how did you get backstage? Security?!?! SECURITY!!!!! “yes sir?” What are you guys wearing?! “Obviously we are wearing tiger skins, for camouflage!” Now I don’t even have security to take all the psychopathic people in here, because my security are psychopathic themselves!!! Annnyyywwwaaayyy… I figured it out! Bill, no bee and sick! No bee is actually no ‘B’, the letter! The only b we have is in bill! And if you take it off, what do you get. “ill” . And what is a synonym for ill. Sick. We have gotten pretty far on our journey of solving the question of the illuminati, although we have not quite accomplished the full desired outcome yet. What did all the most important people in egypt do when they were not prosecuting the poor? They were eating, of course! And what were the poor doing in their spare time? What any law-abiding heartwarming lovely citizens would be doing? Playing Sports, of course? And where are the rich buried? In coffins like boxes. When someone dies, hey eyes turn into 24pt roboto thin-line x’s in italics. Huh; box, x. An XBox of course! And what company makes sports for an Xbox? Electronic arts. We’ve all heard of ‘E A Sports. It’s In The Game.’.if the rich are ‘eat’ and the poor are ‘ea’ the only letter not used in both is the letter T! As in tea! A tea is going to come in handy. Even the word eat is just an anagram for tea! It’s all starting to make sense to me now! It’s all fitting together like the pieces of child’s jigsaw! Remember the plagues on Egypt? One of those must be a clue, but which one!? For this, we need to go back to original illuminati ideas, the eye and the triangle. What number do they have in common? 3, of course! A triangle has three sides! If you asked someone to draw a shape and the only hint you have them as to which shape it is was to tell them ‘3’, then chances are they would draw a triangle! It even has three in its name – tri-angle! And how many color cones does an eye have? You guessed it, three. And the third plague is: let’s see here… Gnats. What has a gnat got to do with anything? That information is probably gnat even right (LOLZ)! Anyway, let’s keep going, there must be more to discover yet still. Who was the last pharaoh in Egypt? Cleopatra. She’s so famous, that there have been books and movies made about her! The movies would have been very old, if they were made when she was alive. So old in fact, that they probably used those old cameras with the crank thingy on the side and the reels. Remember the fishermen from before! They connect! The ‘reels’! I think we now have all the information we need to prove that the illuminati is real. Lets see, what do we have: ill, oo, men, a tea, is gnat, reel. What happens if we squish them all together. Illoomenateaisgnatreel. Illoomenatea is gnat reel. Oh. Well, good thing we got that cleared up. Guess what peeps? I have made it to 35000 characters! Why is that so significant, you might ask? Because the world record is 35000 words! That means that all I have to do is replace every letter with a word. Like this: instead of writing ‘I’m back!’ I could say ‘internet mascara beagle Australia catamaran kipper’ and all you do is read the first letter! This would probably make for some nonsensical blubber, as one might say, but at least i’ll beat the record! Also I have another Up-to-standard word idea to get more writing in! Instead of just writing a normal sentence I replace all the words with their respective dictionary definition! Yes, writer, that is a good awesome cool convenient and simple idea! So here goes: ‘jumping cacti ate many jars containing marmalade’ -> ‘any of numerous succulent plants of the family Cactaceae, of warm, arid regions of the New World, having fleshy, leafless, usually spiny stems, and typically having solitary, showy flowers that are leaping or springing over an object the past tense of to take into the mouth and swallow for nourishment constituting or formulating a large number of a broad-mouthed container, usually cylindrical and of glass or earthenware currently holding or including within its volume or area a jelly-like preserve in which small pieces of fruit and fruit rind, as of oranges or lemons, are suspended.’ Wow, that took longer than I expected. Just so I don’t get sued, I am now informing you that those pieces of information were sourced from a well-designed, helpful and informative website currently named dictionary.com. And now, a word from our sponsor. *Kshhhhhhh* Have you ever been sick before? Then this pill is for you! We have a 100% guarantee that you will never get sick again! Warning: the reason you will not get sick is because you will die. Buy soopapill in your local pharmacy for free! That’s right, the low low price of nothing! They’re so cheap, we’re practically giving them away! Also included is a satisfaction guarantee: if you are not satisfied with this product, then there is a full refund money back guarantee. Kshhhhhhh thank you for that lovely message from our sponsor, hooey kablooie. I need a topic. Not just any topic that you find on the floor, but a topic so magnifico, so delisimo, and so interestinio, that I that I fall on the ground in a seizure. I got one! This is a short skit entitled: ninjas: explorers of time and space! *intense music builds* yes sensei! I will punch that piece of wood so hard that it creates a wormhole in the 6th dimension! My apprentice, you have trained hard. There is now a one in one times ten to the million chance that using this wormhole will send us to a earth-like planet that will be habitable for all ninjas in the clan of the ninjapeeps. All hail the ninjapeeps! (You don’t actually have to) who said that?! Who would have the audacity to threaten the ninjapeeps all hail the ninjapeeps in such a way! I did. And you are? The Writer. Nice to meet you, my name is senseinohi, but that’s sensei to you. Howdy pawtna! No, we are actually japanese, not texan. Kong-nae-chae-waw, pawtna! Sensei, don’t respond! Don’t you remember what this man did? No. He was the one who disarmed the hailing of the ninjapeeps all hail the ninja peeps! Oh yes, that’s right. Sorry dude, but PREPARE TO BE THROWN INTO THE SIXTH DIMENSION, YOU DIRTY RASCAL! The sensei grabbed his handheld torpedo launcher and shot it at The Writer. It hit him and pushed him into the board! Do it! The Apprentice hit the board with all his might, and it broke apart. Not how you would think though, it actually compressed into a wormhole, shifting the spacetime fabric around it! (Now I know what you’re thinking, reader. Don’t ‘They’ always say to make a story believable!? And to that I say… but it is. You see, if you are a small minded gherkin (hey! You! No insults or we’re going to have to stop this little ‘play’ of yours!) ok… whatever. You probably believe that when you push something, the far side of it moves instantly, right? WELL YOU’D BE WRONG! Actually, the opposite side of the object moves in the same time it would take for sound to travel from you to it. Here’s an example: there is a lightning bolt with a hand far away from you. When it strikes the ground, it pushes a meal pole towards you, so one end is in its hand while the other is in yours. You will get pushed back at the exact time you hear to thunder! Isn’t that fabulous? That means that if the ninja punches faster than the speed of sound (a lot faster though) then he will be able to compress the board into a space time warping black hole) The Writer is plunged into the endless oblivion of the cascading incomprehension that is the sixth dimension. Little did the ninja peeps all hail the ninja peeps know, when you are in the sixth dimension, you can teleport right inside people and objects! (It actually depends on what kind of sixth dimension you are in. If you are in a four axes two time dimension, as in this skit, you can moves backwards and forwards in time and change the outcome of time, yet not travel directly to any possible outcome which you may have formed in the past. Also, with another axes under your belt, you can essentially disappear and reappear at will, yet with a time delay, which is nulled due to your cacophony of dimensions, specifically time.) so what The Writer did next was simple! He simply went back in time, and landed inside the sensei, causing him to not be thrown into the wormhole, causing him not to land in the sensei… This is making less sense as we go. In the end, the universe gets confused, and tells us a message: universe.exe has stopped responding. Noooooooooooooooo — Yep. And that is what I do with my life essentially. Gotta go now sea ya! I’m back! With a conspiracy that will blow your minds/mind if you are human! Zooreka is the easiest game to play if you have the slightest bit of mathematical knowledge! When choosing what to roll for, it is sooooo obvious which on the choose using basic knowledge. I’m not going to tell you, because next time you play it you will figure it out (if you even HAVE zooreka). Now that I think About it, that wasn’t really a conspiracy, was it :(. I have a reward for you reader. If you have truly made it this far than… Give me your email and I will send you the answer to the zooreka challenge, free of charge! Send an email to rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com, inquiring. Also, you can ask me any other important questions you might have! In section 18w08b of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it CLEARLY STATES that the king of oddly colored farm animals (that’s me!) will reply to ANY email set to the inbox of rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com to the best of his ability (not including spam tho). Hey! I just realised that when I wrote the word color, it get a red squiggle underneath! What a sham! ShamWOW! In section 18o25g02i22 it states that anyone, not only the king of the oddly colored farm animals, is allowed to spell color without a u! Hurrah! Hurrah! Three cheers for the rainbow fluffysheep handbook! (But that was only two, Harold. Whatever.) and that, ladies and gentlemen, was the way Color was born. THE END. I’m back! And do I have an exciting subject for you! No! I don’t! Ha, gotcha there, didn’t I! Wow, it just started raining. Oh wait, it’s snow! Not just any snow, mind you, but it’s topicsnow! Yay! All these great topics falling softly from the sky. What could be better. I’m now walking down the street. Hey you! Ye? Is that a topicman? Yes sir, tis! Well ain’t that great. If want to get the best topics, I must climb mt.Big. Hey look, there’s some kids having a topicball fight! How fun. Noooooo! A topicalanche! (That doesn’t even make sense!!! The word avalanche doesn’t even have the world snow in it! ) Since I died, i didn’t get any topics. Sooooooo yea. *cue awkward elevator music* ding do do ding dong ding do do ding dong. *taps his foot* *hums 90’s pop song* grabs chainsaw from behind his ear and cuts the elevator cord, plunging the box of awkwardness in to the darkness of forgetfulness and loss of meaning. Forget… Forget……….. You drift into a deep dreamless sleep, waking up to an elevator of twisted metal wreckage resembling a dead animal carcasses. Beside is the corpse of… of… an onion?!?! Wow, who knew onions could be so awkward :o. I just read what I wrote and it makes less sense than I thought. Little did you guys know, that today you would get a great piece of text to read. I didn’t even know that. You know that guy from shamWOW! He always said all these great things about that weird sponge? Yea, that was a short topic. Im gone. Im back! Wait, how did i type if i was gone? With my mmmiiiinnnnddddd… woooooooo creeeeeeeepy! Anyway, this is what i was thinking. I feel really sorry for water molecules! All they do all their lives is slowly get raised up slowly until they land in a cloud with their friends! Wahoo! Or, so you think. In reality, at any moment they could fall to their impending doom! They drop thousands of meters to the ground, only now realizing that they are miles from home!! They take the nearest river trying to get home, before repeating the cycle! They teach us this horror story in kindergarten, masking the brutal morbidity of it by articulating the conundrum using macroscopic convoluted words! Like ‘evaporation’, more like flying up to the sky knowing that it’s your final moment – ation! Condensation!?!? More like con – ned by your kindergarten teacher inti thinking that this means water gently floating to the surface of the earth, when it really means death by lack of parachute! How could you be so – dense – ation! (Public service announcement: this is an anonymous relative spakin’: *where is he? Dunno.* this was test, and only a test. Had this been a real public service announcement then i would have – not been here! Harharhar ! Stop making fun of harold! He was only late for that one clock commercial and now you guy just have to – its OK bob, i don’t care about the Larry squad. They don’t bother me no longer. KK harold….. umm… this was a te – wait, did we already do that part? Uh, ya i think so…. so this is awkward. Ya, sooooooo – *in the echoey distance* cut to the commercial break! What the heck do i pay you for? To… get… you… coffee, sir. Oh, you the coffee boy? Why the hack did my coffee not have any cream in it yesterday!? I almost burnt my mouth into non-existence! I was told not to put in in, sir. By who? Lets just say i got a… Higher Calling. You… you m-m-mean that The Boss called? Yes, budget cuts he said. No more cream he said. No more name-brand cereal! Nooooo if my cereal is packed in a bag i swear on my neighbors cousins dogs bone that i will take every cereal bag, pour out all the cereal, and put them into the boxes that i saved from the name brand cereal!!! Is this… you… you wouldn’t. Oh, try me. Yea, now that i think about it you probably would do that. Why was i here again? Oh ya… CUT TO A COMMERCIAL ALREADY! We don’t have any commercials sir, we got voted unanimously by popular vote not to have any commercials. Well obviously the public didn’t want… didn’t… di- it all makes sense now! The budget cut is BECAUSE of us not playing enough commercials! But sir, our quota ends tomorrow! We need to have played 50837 commercials! There is. Only. One. Way. Play all the commercials at 100x speed! Is that even LeGaL?! Of course it is! We might have to have an epilepsy warning at the start though. Don’t people get epilepsy from watching fast images? This is a radio station, so people can just hear it! Ummm… this is an earlepsy warning! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHhahahahhahha hehe he… heh. That wasn’t funny, steven.) And back to our regular program. I just started a sentence with a preposition! Isn’t that, like, seven years bad luck or something? Well I can solve that. Section 1 of the Rainbow Fluffysheep handbook says that the king of oddly colored (not coloured like some LOSERS would write) farm animals has full veto to start any sentence with a preponderance. (What the hooey is a preponderance? It says here that it means to be greater than something. Well, the king of oddly colored is full of preponderance towards everyone else! Mwahahaahaha!) Now i can start with a preposition too. Well that worked. (The reason that I used the number 1 is because it has become forgotten among numbers. You see, 1 isn’t considered a prime number! Like what the hey! Its only factors are one and itself!) Do you think that when a particle is beckoned into existence, it uses one of those slot machines with the big arm? And the 777 of the particle world is getting… Hmmmm. I actually have now idea. Maybe just hydrogen! Hydrogen is pretty sweet for blowing people up. But then when your becoming a particle, you have to use it and see what you get. A typical particle would be at one. Here is an example: *cue southern accent* sweat was rolling down my face like the Rolling Stones. I can’t believe it has come to this. I force my hand over to the lever on the side of the machine, which appeared to be taunting me. It’s lights and horror movie little-kid-singing-or-jack–in–the–box (the reason i did that is because I was putting a space between every word, AND jack-in-the-box already has them too) seemed to violently clash against the darkness and dread of the outside world. I clenched the red metal ball with all my might. It was cold as Alaskan ice on a early winter morning, and its color was the blood of the many particles who had to go through with this also. I jerked my limb backwards, causing the huge metal pole to turn on a skewed axis. It came to a stop after turning a quarter of the way with a hard crack, like the crack of a whip. I refocused my attention to the screen. The cylinders were rolling faster than A grands prix racers tyre. Suddenly, the first one came to an abrupt halt. I stared at it, but struggled to read the letter because of my complete shock. H. It said H. I should have been happy, I know, but I wasn’t completely out of the woods yet. There was a tiny times two symbol beside it. I didn’t care. I pulled the arm again, not knowing what life-changing, devastating thing was to come. It spinning thing that doesn’t have a name stopped. O. No. It was the letter O! Now I too will have to live this tortuous fate! Do you think that water parties breathe? Because then, when they did, they would just be hydrogen for a very short amount of time. ENOUGH WITH THE WATER PARTICLES!! I have a conspiracy theory! You know those spinny poles that barbers have? Of course you do! They are probably used to hypnotise people into getting their hair cut there! #subSPINinalmessagesfromcruelbarbers. There is a haircut called “meet me at McDonald’s” that is BANNED where I live. goodbye. and remember… barbers are eevviill! I’m back! Did you know that palm trees aren’t actually trees? Yea, that’s right, palm TREES!!! I think that they’re bushes or something. That makes me angry! in section 6.02214129×10^23 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that trees are trees.. no matter how small (Horton hears a who). On a completely unrelated note, there was this old man who painted a baseball like infinite times so now it’s like the size of a truck. I was listening to this amazing radio station and this is ACTUALLY what it was about. I will try to rein-act it as accurately as possible. “Recently, a Russian double-agent was poisoned in England. Also, there was a man who had ten million euros, which he gambled until he got nine million of it back. he was so mad that he didn’t get it all, that he robbed his employers to get the money back. now he is a counsellor for people struggling with a gambling addiction. he’s a great lad, he is, he’s had a great life. By the way, its my mother in laws 100th birthday today! Go over to her house and say hello! I have her post code written on the back of my phone. Also, there was a man who invented the windup radio and the shoe phone charger who died this week.” I know what you’re thinking: there’s no way this actually happened, right? YES THIS WAS REAL! And I thought it was pretty funny hehehe. I need write all o the funny things that happen in my life in here. So today I was in the library, minding my own business, when I noticed someone was drawing cartoons and there were a whole bunch of little kids surrounding him (I’m guessing from ages 2-5). Classic movie plot device that never happens in real life, so I was already skeptical. He was drawing a zombie. “And now you see, the zombies chin is like a chimpanzees bubblecopter asparagus. (Wait what? Lets try this again) And now you see, the zombies chinos like a… Well… A line.””why does the zombie look like its from the Simpsons?””because real zombies are too scary for you kids. That’s why I’m not drawing the ones from the walking dead, for example.””I’ve seen that movie!””yeah me too!!””umm.. Ok, how many of you guys have seen the walking dead?”*everyone puts their hand up* the only reason I thought that story was funny is because that kind of thing only happens in movies. What’s up with the saying, ‘easy as pie’? Like what the hooey! Pie is really hard to make. The pie crust always ends up being soggy.’piece of cake’ is a saying too! What’s with all these people that think baking is easy! (Now that I think about it, this is a weird thing to be mad about). Maybe I just need to calm down. NOOOO!!! In section 888 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that the king of oddly colored farm animal (that’s me!) hereby declares that the sayings ‘easy as pie’ and ‘piece of cake’ are now changed to ‘easy as bread’ and ‘piece of bread’. I just realised that I was typing with my phone in portrait mode! Now I turned it into landscape and I feel so freeeeeee!!! I need to come up with other things that I do randomly… Like the rainbow fluffysheep hanbooks challenge booklet subset! If I am talking about some random subject, I will now randomly put a challenge for you, the reader (which probably doesn’t exist) to do! Piece of bread! In section 7 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset it STATES that your challenge is: get anyone you know to say piece of bread instead of piece of cake! (They probably won’t do it unless you tell them the reason (or you have really good friends)) i have to shorten the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset so that I don’t have to write the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset all of the time. From now on, it is considered TRFSHCBS. I probably news to add vowels to pronounce it. And take out ‘the’. RAFLUSHEHACHABOOS. Pronounced ra-fluh-shee-ha-cha-boo-s. that’ll work. I need to write more to fill my writer quota. That just sounded cool to say. I probably write about… 100 words a day. Well I started today at the zombie thing, so yea. What’s going to be the next big thing in the future? Technically, I’m writing this in the past, so you guys can email me at rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com and tell me what the future’s like! The only problem is that I will only receive it in the future. Another one of my BRILLIANT ideas gone down the tubes. Goodbye. The world is unjust! I worked for hours on end, making an app for a coding competition. And then they announced… We made it to the country finals! The COUNTRY! By that time, my app had over 5,000 downloads! It was amazing. But we came in second. Guess what the prize was for second?!?! TAKE A WILD GUESS!!!! NOTHING! This wouldn’t have been so bad, but at the competition they were giving away free stuff. And GUESS WHO GOT SAID FREE STUFF?!?! MY BROTHER, THAT’S WHO!!! So in the end, after spending half the year doing a competition, my brother, who did absolutely nothing, got more out of it then me. The world is unjust! Unfair! Prejudiced! Biased! Fascist! (Wait, that was autocorrected). I just needed to get my anger out. When I wrote autocorrected, it autocorrected it to autocorrect ex! That’s the last time i buy an apple product. How many devices companies are fruit? There’s apple obviously, and blackberry, and pear (I’ve seen pear shops in cities) and raspberries (as in the greatest computer of all time, raspberry pi). That could be the most expensive fruit salad ever! What would you like to order, moisuer? I’ll have the fruit salad. Oui, oui. Harold! That costs $5k! So? I bet it’s good! KSHHH and here’s how the skit would have went if I had autocorrect on. Why would you like to order, moisture? You guys have moisture in this restaurant? that’s not up to the code for restaurants. i’ll have to tell the building inspector! Oh yes, anyway, I’ll have the fruit salad. Out, out! Runnnn! I’m coming Harold! That waiter must have something about fruit salad! Maybe he had a bad experience as a child. Wow, I sure went off on a tangent. Do you think that it would be cool if apple made all their devices different fruit names! The iPad pro could be the watermelon, cause its so big. And the iPhone nano could be the strawberry (other berry names are trademarked) what else? A phone with a lot of space could be the peach, because the pit is like the hard-drive! (That was a bit far fetched) and the MacBook could be an orange because when you open it it it cut in the inside… Cuz laptops are like two parts… You know? (and if you cut a grape in half and put it in the microwave it will make plasma (just thought you’d like to know that)) Earbuds could be cherries because they always have the two cherries which are like the ear things! And they’d call the charger ‘The Root’. Why a great idea! I will let apple use these names and I only need a 0.00000000000001% share In the company. Even though I did work hard at this. I just thought of something amazing! If you are in a shop and you see a jar of nondescript sauces (mayacamole) and it costs two bucks. TWO BUCKS!!! You know for a FACT that the shop just across town sells them for one-fifty. The shop is five minutes away. If you choose to go to the shop, then you my friend are working for minimum wage! (Except in the case that you have to walk back. If so, just buy the mayacamole at the former option( or just get salsa. It’s on sale! (Which probably means that its old))) wasn’t that interesting? Here’s another situation. You are buying a $400,000 home (average price right now I’d say) and you think “what a steal!” And your neighbour thinks “where did i put that shotgun cartridge again? But is you think about it you are working for 1,667 weeks to pay for that! (Assuming 8 hours a day, five days a week at minimum wage) That’s 32 YEARS! Let’s say you work for 12 hours a day, seven days a week for $20 an hour, that’s still 238 weeks! That’s still five years! Just buy a camper van for goodness sake! I just got to thinking; how many tiny changes would a cereal company have to make to earn twice as much from a box of cereal? (Assuming people still bought the same amount ( I think I can trust the general population)) it turns out that if we want to double the profits by decreasing things by ten percent, we would have to do it seven times. Which means instead of selling these cornflakes: Box height: 1 meter; Box length: 1 meter; Box width: 1 meter; Percent of cornflake that is cornflake ( not air): 100%; Percent of box filled with bag: 100%; Percent of bag filled with cornflakes: 100%; Production cost: 10 cents; they could sell these: Box height, width & length: 0.9 meters; Percent of cornflake that is cornflake ( not air): 90%; Percent of box filled with bag: 90%; Percent of bag filled with cornflakes: 90%; Production cost: 9 cents; they would make double the profits! Hooray! Well that’s that. You know how people always have weird names on the interweb? Well I came up with Internet name generator! (Random adjective)(Random noun)(Use a deck of cards for this part. Take out the jokers and face cards, and tens are now zeros. Pick out numbers until you get a club) additional things include: (pick a card. If it is three or lower, put X at the start and end)(pick a card. If it is an ace, replace noun with random country. If it is a two, replace noun with Internet related company + fan.) let me try this. Here is what I got: FoulSoup31, XxInternalAle10xX, StrengthenedFillet49458, MediocreElectrode20, and EpicRedditFan7515. That was a lot more accurate than I thought it would be. Bye. Hello! I need to rant more! I am going to start a sentence without knowing where it is leading. I wish I could buy a mocha for my clown pants while aliens eat your toes which glisten in the sliver of wind. That was fun. Why is orange so popular? There are SO MANY WORDS that don’t rhyme with other words too, like engine, silver and angry (hangry isn’t a real word as far as I know). And people know that orange rhymes with “door hinge”! Some people say that doesn’t count. But there is another! Sporangia! Well, it’s pretty close. I think it’s like fern spores. Well remember, whenever you see the color orange, type #boycottorange, so people stop taking pictures of orange things. For Halloween, people will carve watermelons instead of pumpkins. Trump will no longer be president because of his orange skin. Oranges (the fruit) will be replaced by reds! (The soon to be fruit). The sun will disappear, or if we want to not go extinct, just change its color to blue. I have a map of Europe on my wall, which has the countries in different colors. BEWARE IF YOU LIVE IN: The UK, Spain, Hungary, Latvia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Greece, Denmark and Armenia. You guys will soon disappear off the face of the earth. And my favourite pop is club orange! Nooooo! And Jupiter will disappear too! Now that I think about it, losing orange things wouldn’t be that bad compared to other colors. Like blue. We would lose water, blue paint, the second book in the Rust comic book series, the sky, Pluto and that one triple angry bird. That would be awful. In section 255 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it STATES that the king of oddly colors farm animals (me again) will never make all blue things disappear, but he may make all orange things disappear. Now you guys don’t have to worry! :)! Why are kings higher than queens in a deck of cards? That’s really sexist! People think that king is worth thirteen and queens are worth twelve! (If you can’t tell, I’m mocking that people that get offended by everything). Why do vegetarians worry about hurting animals, but not plants!?!? Plants have feelings too (I think)! In fact, vegetarians kill MORE than carnivores. Instead of a whole family eating a chicken, if they are all vegetarians, then they will probably kill hundreds of plants! Think about THAT, people! In this whole LoTeEv, I have probably offended a lot of you guys. Sorry bout that. In section 1029384756 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that if the mug of oddly colored farm animals (me again) offends any reader, he is sincerely sorry *citation not needed because of section 12345679 of the RFSH*. Why are the money symbols not consistent? Like there’s €uros, ¥en and £ounds. But why $ollars? Maybe it’s supposed to be dollar$. That makes more sense. Now I won’t get that nervous eye twitch every time I see that symbol. “Hey look, I just found this ten dollar bill on the ground! Hey why the flop is he doing that?” “It’s just… a Thing that he does…” “Oh.” “I have a great idea for this! Whenever he gets near money his eye twitches! That means we can find money on the ground just by watching him!” And that’s how I lost all my friends. It turns out that was the only reason they liked me. Wait what is this ?? That is so ?eird. Goodbye. I’m back! Hahahaha gotcha! I was just kidding about that. But you would have never known that! I’m going to try to make words using only the top row of letters. Hmmmm… Lets see. Tip, rip, port, type, write, writer, typewriter. Fascinating. I’m going to make a fake movie trailer. Using only words. Here we go: [Have you ever…]{scene of old woman churning milk}[wanted to…]{scene of older woman churning what is now cream(the reason she is older is not because it is a different person, but because we filmed it after}[churn your own butter?!?!]{scene of even older woman churning what is now butter (the reason she is even older is because we got a new actor because the other one retired (she used to put tires on her vehicle, and now she does it again))}[This is a great movie, if you are an IDIOT][“this is a great movie”][i had popcorn while I watched this movie, and I really enjoyed it, it soothed the pain of having to watch that movie][“I really enjoyed it, it really soothed”][i actually really enjoyed the movie!][wait… What? You know we’re not paying you guys right? Oh. Anyway, “I actually really enjoyed the movie!”][while being on an oil rig?!?!]{well… No, but anyway (shows a picture of an old woman churning butter which is thick and black and worth a lot more than butter)}[Coming soon to you][this summer][and fall][and winter as well][lets just add spring too][The Lard of the Rigs] That was actually fun! {Warning: if you use this movie name you will BE SUED actually now that I think about it you probably won’t. In fact, if you DO actually make this into a movie, send it to me} Do you guys think I’m random enough? I really hope so! In section 5647382910 of the RAFLUSHE – I can’t remember. That challengey things name. But anyway, make that movie. Plz. I’m board. And not just any old barn-wood planks, mind you, but a board of fine stained oak as the flooring in the White House. By!!! I’m back! No, just kidding, I’m front! I have a topic that I’m actually very serious about. Puzzles. Am I the only one that thinks that puzzles are the most useless thing in the world?!?! That’s like the PROOF that the human race have made it too far. When we actually make challenges that we have to face OURSELVES, AND WE PAY FOR THEM! We are literally paying to give ourselves problems! We have enough problems! Well at least I do ;). Probprobprobprobleeeeeemsomomo! I’m going to type something about politics to sound super cool. As you know, recently president Obama (That was like years ago) oh… Sozsozsoz. As you know, recently president Nixon (no, that’s not exactly right) Oh yea, I forgot. As you know, recently president Lincoln (ARGH! We are not doing this anymore) was a president before Donald (finally) Duck! (Nooooo! It’s TRUMP) What? No! You think you’re SOOO smart person who talks in the brackets. Actually, trump is a businessman in that show where he says YOU’RE FIRED!!! What, you probably also think that a bodybuilder actor that says “GEAT TOUW THAE CHAEOPPAER” is a governor too!?! Hahahaha… Donald Duck was a great president. His slogan was “I will fight for american democrats” and he bathes in gold. What a great job. Money is so dirty though! Now that I think about it, he probably gets the money wholesale from the mint. Or else, how could he afford it?! I have a new segment in my text now! It’s called the “Random Fun Fact” segment! (Now that I think about it, I never know when to use those “. I think it’s “” when someone is talking and ” for saying something sarcastically or shortening a word. For example: “Hello there Chuckie! How’ya doing ‘nice guy’. Were you being sarcastic? Yes, but how could you see the little apostrophes when I’m talking to you?… Science.” And that’s how they work) where was I? Random fax! I will send all of my readers a fax with has facts on in! How brilliant! The facts of the paragraph are… Ice cream was invented in china, something that is ‘blue’ (got it right there!) Is actually every color BUT blue, and I like cheese. And the country of the paragraph is… Mexico! Why not, right? Did you ever wonder how records work? (Just in case you don’t know, a record is a thingy where you put a round black thing on a majig and it puts a sharp whatchamacallit on that and funny rhythmic sound emerge and tickle your ear holes) I know how they WORK, with ridges and diaphragms and blah Blah BLah BLAh BLAH… But how do they WORK?!?! Like who was sitting there in their layzboy having diet Pepsi (or popsee to avoid copyright infringement (and that’s when I checked my forehead, and sure enough, there was a mint there)) And then they realise… Hey! Bumpy things can make sounds! I just can’t get my head around it (clockwise is my preference). Do you ever wonder what the worst collections are in the world? I currently collect words, pins and the “to kill a mockingbird” series (not much work ( besides the fact that I have to give them (it) back to the library by tomorrow morning ( the last time I will ever bring a library book late again is when I borrowed the book entitled ‘How to sharpen a pencil for dummies’ (Don’t blame me! It was the ‘Extended and revised’ edition! They had all the technical ‘lead vs. graphite’ stuff added.) an they called out my name over the loudspeaker telling me to return the book immediately or I would be fired (yes, I worked at the library (I never could figure out the Dewey decimal system)). Now that I think about it, they never said what book to bring, they just said my name. Oh no, I never handed in the ‘how to sharpen a pen for dummies’ book! (Which I rate a 3/5, “would not borrow again” because of its poor layout and overall structure (although the information was altogether helpful)) what collections do YOU have reader? Find out next time on “deer or no deer!” (Remember forehead sweets) oh no! I wrote how to kill a mocking bird! I meant ‘pow do gill hamma (hammer) king turd’. Phew. Got outta that one. I have a new topic! A high-quality, name-brand, box-not-bag topic! I figured out a great business plan! Make onsies! Not just out of clothes, but out of everything! Like: Did you eat two bowls of granola this morning? Well ONSIE! [poured granola into one bowl, causing it to be crushed under its own weight] do you have two hands? Well ONSIE! [handshakes himself] Do you have twins? Well ONSIE! [wait… How is this supposed to work?] Get yours now at your local Amazon (which might not be very accessible if you don’t live in South America) for a free trial! *happy tune* Onsie, Onesie! Life is better with a onsie. Spin a web, less than two. ONSIE! (I think that was to the tune of Spider-Man (I mean Smiter-Can) Onsies only cost… Whatever you want them to cost! Yeah, I think i’m going to go now. Baiii! Wait.. What? When did i wrote that ONSIE thing?? I just came back and I do not remember doing that. What the hat does ‘Spin a web, less than two” even mean? That is some weird stuff. So today I listened to that radio station again, and it was totally worth it. He was talking about these married people in Germany that are going to a Walking Dead convention for their 17th anniversary. Weird. Weird, weird, WEIRD!!! You know guitar tuna? Probably not. It is an app where you tune your guitar (obviously). I thought of how they could make so much more money! If they had bass tuna, electric guitar tuna, acoustic guitar tuna. BUT THEY WOULD ALL BE THE SAME THING!!! They would make so much money! Wait. What about canned tuna! (Also, if they thought in that way, then bass tuna would be extremely perplexing because they are both fish). Well, that’s my stuff for today! Hallo! I’m back! And I don’t get house decorations nowadays. People put old stuff in their house, and they think it makes it look amazing! People always talk about that ‘Vintage Look’ which is just putting old stuff that people fifty years ago would have said “why do you have a *fill in the blank with an old thing* in your HOUSE?!?!” In their house. I should rant. Like what I’m doing now. I’m just talking about random things just like the flaming chicken person does just to fill up space on the page. I should also write long words like pnumonoultramicrkscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis and disestablishmentarianism . Actually, since it only matters for words count, I should just type really small words. Hi, my name is jo. (Its not actually, but I need to type small words). I eat a lot of pie and I love it too. It is yum in my tum. Wow that was probably really boring to read (and to write). Hello there, reader! I’ve just decided that I want to talk to you. I always seem to do all of the talking, but maybe I should give you a chance! *really really long drawn out super weird and uneventful awkward silence*. Oh I see what’s happening. Either you can’t talk to me because you are in the future and I’m in the past, causing us to not be able to communicate due to the sad reality that is the third dimension, or… Your trying to talk to me on a walkie-talkie! I could never figure out those things either. They’re so confusing. Lets see… Oh, there it is! The ‘walkie-talkie almanac: a complete collection of all the knowledge YOU will need to acquire (did you know acquire is also a board game? If you are ever playing, always buy America, and then buy quantum stocks (well it worked that one time I played (are you saying that games are DIFFERENT every time you play them!?!? (That’s the last time I mesmerise fifty-three rounds of go fish))) to use your very own… WALKIE-TALKIE! (well what else would the walkie-talkie almanac be about!?!?) lets see… Contents… It says the contents page is on page 1… Wait – WHAT?!?! The contents page has a line for the contents page! That’s like a website having a link to itself! (Which is not a bad idea for my own website to get a lot of views (like I could a a tab on my website called “the best sites on the web! And I would have links to places like YouTube and twitter (or whatever you young’uns go to these days! When I was a lad I used to play ‘Pokémon Pearl’ and ‘Facebook’ now you kids are all on her newfangled ‘Pokémon Go get outta here’ and yer ‘SnapperChatters’ (i bet if you are reading this in ten years you won’t know that I was talking about Pokemon go and snapchat (or how I got from talking to you to young ones (btw: if you are reading this in 2028 or beyond: welcome to the distant past! (Now that in think about it, I started reading the longest text ever by ‘Sam’ (real readers will know who that is) when it was about ten years too! And I don get the references to stuff like ‘neopets’ and ‘The Matrix’))))))) Okay where is it… Oh there; it says that the ‘pretty much how to use it’ section is on page -3! Well thats eas- how do I go to page -3! Lets see… Oh look! They have a ‘how to go to negative pages section too! It’s on page -7. Noooo!! I guess I’ll just look it up on the Internet. Ok first you have to turn the book into antimatter… Ok got that done… Now just turn to the page without the negative! Well that was easy. I’m on page 7 now. It says all you have to do is convert the book into an antimatter form and- hey this sounds familiar! I’ll go to page three now. It says here, and I quote: “to use the walkie talkie, hold in that little button on the side o the walkie talkie”. Did you that reader! Can you try talking to me now? Oh yes! I can hear you! Oh wait, I’m on the wrong station. I’m on number five, but your on number six. I have to click a button to change my station number! Too much work. Do you think I’m crazy because I talk to myself? I’m not! Yes you are. I am not! Isn’t talking to yourself the DEFINITION of crazy? I’m not talking to myself. The who do you think I am? Oh yea. I’m your imaginary friend, RatGuy! Don’t you remember me! No. Oh *sniffle* well *odd breathing patterns* we *tear emerging from eyeball* used *pure weeping* to- I CAN’T TALK TO YOU WHEN YOUR CRYING BECAUSE YOU KEEP INTERRUPTING YOURSELF! Technically, since you’re talking to yourself your also interrupting your self. I guess I am. Continue, RatGuy. As I was saying: we used to skate around on a skateboard together. We would have so much fun doing tricks that other kids could have only DREAMED of, like the ‘ground ollie’ and the ‘down-the-curb’. We moved at speeds that the other kids couldn’t even begin to imagine. 90% the speed of light. But RatGuy? Yes? If sewers moving at 90%!• the speed of light, would the air compression deflecting us not cause us do develop into an expanding plasma fireball. This is a story, Writer. Stories don’t have to ‘work’. I NEED TO STOP!!! I keep writing all this nonsensical blubber and I can’t stop. Are you, the reader not so confused and uncomprehensive of what I’ve just been typing to the last hour!?!? Oh wait, you can’t tell me if you were or not, your walkie-talkie isn’t on the same channel as mine. I just realised something. I work hard to you guys trying to give you quality topics and extra-special rants. And how do people repay me? By writing more than me!!! I spend all day thinking about things that i want to put into this, and then I type it all up! And then I see that people want quantity, not quality! But no! You loyal readers will have to deal with me not writing 500 words a day, because I’m thinking of things and stuff. I was just thinking, I need complain about my life more. That’s what all the people are doing nowadays. “Oh, my life is so hard, I just broke a fingernail!” BIG DEAL! “Oh, my life is hard too, i just broke a finger” BUG REAL! ” oh my life is mildy uncomfortable and difficult, I broke all of my fingers, toes, limbs, necks, mothers vases, favourite Guinness book of world records records, my most-used language rules, that kinda stuff. Just in case you didn’t realise, I’m an introvert. So I have lots of problems with… People. And my guess is that you do too! So here are some crucial situations for you to read and laugh at me because you know I can’t hear you! 1: You know when your talking to someone and you can’t figure out what part of their face to look at? Is it their eyes, or their nose, or their mouth? So then you kinda unfocus your eyes and stare in the middle of their face, like your looking right through them? And then they finished talking and you have no idea what they just said? CUZ THAT HAPPENS TO ME ALL THE TIME! 2: when your talking to someone and they are saying important stuff, but instead of listening to what they’re saying your just saying yes whenever they stop talking for a little bit? 3: when you are going into a building and there are people behind you, and you can’t figure out if you should hold the door open for them or not? If you don’t and they’re too close, It will probably hit him/her in the face but if you do and they’re to far, its really awkward because you are just standing there for a really long time. Have any of these things happened to you? Leave your answer in the comment section below! (There actually isn’t one, I can’t figure that much out). Hedgehogs must find it really hard to have birthdays! If they have lots of balloons everywhere, they probably pop them; the police come because they think that its gunshots, and there goes all the hedgehogs friends. I’m sure glad I’m now a hedgehog! In section 333 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that free pop-proof balloons will be sent to any hedgehogs in need. Well goodbye, I’m off to slay a fantastic fedora fanatic! But before I go, I have to ask one thing. Did you really make it this far? Because if you have, the you have been promoted from herder of the rainbow fluffysheep to shearer of the rainbow fluffysheep. It’s a title only few in the world have. Did you know I also make comics? Probably not, because I haven’t posted any yet! Well stay tuned for them someday. What’s up with everyone wanting to deep fry things? Deep fried mars bars, deep fries cool aid! Well I’ve come up with a new food type! ‘Shallow fried’ available at all good pharmancy checkout lines beside the mayacamole and the taco sauce. (That sounds really good!(jut i case you didn’t know, mayacamole is mayo and guacamole combined. Doesn’t that sound MAGICALLY DELICIOUS!!!( I think it does))) shallow fried stuff has half the fat, uses half the ‘deep fry juice’ (whatever they put in there) and has have the flavour! For twice the price! Even though we never had an original price. Whatever. Do you know what’s the worst? Trying to buy computer – related things in charity shops. I was at value village, and I saw a USB. It was 64 gigabytes! That’s pretty good (I bet if your are reading this in the distant future than you think that a 64 gigabyte USB is awful. Well it isn’t in this day and age) I thought, so I went to buy it. It’s only two bucks! Wow, what a steal. I looked closer at it and that’s when I realised. It said 64 MEGABYTES!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW LITTLE THAT IS! if you are from the distant future than you are probably thing ‘that’s like nothing’ and you’d be right. It can only store like 60 million letters! That’s only 15 million words! That’s only a million sentences! That’s only 200,000 paragraphs! That’s only 20,000 chapters! That’s only 1,000 Books! That’s only 250 quadrilogies! Now that I think about it, 250 quadrilogies isn’t that bad. If you couldn’t tell, I used a method called Fermi Estimation, though a little more precise. In Fermi Estimation, you can be off by 100x in either direction and it doesn’t really matter. According to Fermi Estimation, this is me. Age: 10 Number of eyes: 1 Social Security Number: 1000000 PIN code: 1000 number of limbs: 1 people in my family: 1 (forever alone). That’s why I like Fermi Estimation. I actually didn’t tell you why I like it. Oh well. Where I live, they use blackcurrant in everything. It’s pretty much a replacement for grape. But am I the only one who thinks that grape flavoured things taste way better? Whenever I get something blackcurrant flavoured I offer it someone, because they usually like it (and I hate it). Works well for me!! I was just thinking about tides. Way back in the day, wouldn’t tides make no sense? The sea would just get higher and lower and there was no reasoning behind it. Maybe that’s why they thought sea monsters existed. No what I think about it though, the moon pulling on the water is kinda even crazier than that. And now for a commercial break. Kshhhhhh – Tacos…… I LOVE EM! And you can to for only ten easy payments of ten bucks! (That’s deer by the way) tacos can make you feel fuzzy in the inside. That’s because of the mould that comes FREE with every purchase! And there’s no artificial additives either! (We did that by adding so many additives that instead of adding it to the taco, we were technically adding the taco to the additives). What are you waiting for! I’m waiting for this commercial to end so I can get paid! Call now at 1800-GOT-PUNK to order a taco from Teddys Tacos (or would it be Teddies) and you will get a free rent-a-friend with your purchase! But there’s more! Order now and get a free Ferrari too! Oh it seems our lines are down its too late. They’re back up again! But it’s too late! I use too many exclamation marks! But there’s more! Be the 7.8×10^9 customer to order to get a free home with your choice of a happy meal toy! KSHHHHHH . I think that people complain about preservatives way to much. They all say “oh, it’s SOOOO unhealthy” but I think that month-past-the-expiration-date-food is way more unhealthy. The end of that. Goodbye.Do you do two extra languages in school? If so you will know what I mean. Every time I have to study for one language, I ALWAYS remember the word from the other language! Like when I’m learning Japanese I’ll think what was ‘how are you’ again? Oh yea, it’s frickin ÇA VA!!! (Sorry if I’m being too edgy) in section 250q4 of the Rainbow Fluffysheep handbook it states that English is the best language and no one should be forced to learn any other. If they are, they must fill up a bath tub with alpabits which spell out the word that they uttered and eat all of it without any sugar sprinkled on top (NOOOOO). That sounded a little bit cliché. GO TO THE TUB YOUNG MAN! ok. Well, that’s all I got for today. See ya! I’m back here again! Another hour of my life will be wasted in the next few… Minutes? That previous (the auto correct is so bad on this phone it corrected previous to peeler oohs) sentence made no sense whatsoever. I have a conspiracy for you guys today! (Or 4 U Guys 2Day if I want to sound ‘Hip’). Don’t worry, it’s not as long as that Illuminati one (although I was thinking about doing another one of those soon. So stay tuned!). I think school is a scam! Have you ever noticed that everyone says that the government is trying to brainwash people? Well the LAST place you would think to look for that kind of activity is a government-funded learning program! The government is trying to teach people nonsense to make the population stupid. Like when will I ever need to know about the themes and plot devices in To Kill A Mockingbird? Or how to calculate the area under a curve? Or even that in 1812 a war happened that doesn’t affect me today! They could be teaching us important things, like how to pay bills, how to get a job, how to overthrow the government and all political world leaders for entire globe domination, how to use bendy straws, you know, the IMPORTANT STUFF! (By the way, one of those things was not like the others). That was my conspiracy. I don’t think that anyone has actually read to this far. I don’t actually have any proof that anyone has. But if you have, here is proof. A tiny quiz to test how well you really know this LoTeEv. Email all the answers to me atrainbowflufysheep123@gmail.com, for a chance to win a response from me and a chance to tell me what you think of this site! (Actually, no matter what I will respond though) Lets get started. Question 1: what emoji is ‘creepy’? Question 2: what type of plant will i make America covered in when I become president? Question 3: fill in he blank. Jumping _____ ate many jars containing marmalade. Question 4: what is the worst molecule to be? Question 5: how many tiny changes to a cereal box do you need to make it half the price? Question 6: what did i rate the book entitled ‘how to sharpen a pen for dummies’? Question 7: what page is the ‘how to go to negative pages’ section on in the walkie-talkie almanac? Question 8: what year was the brand new ford mustang bike? Question 9: what is ‘a fun game on the PlayStation 2’ Question 10: what food was described as ‘ok, Bob’? If you got all of those questions right than you are a true reader of the LoTeEv! And you get a prize! If you send me your answers at rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com, you will get your name mentioned in this LoTeEv? (I mean, if you want). If your like me and have a lonely YouTube channel with five views because you watched it five times, the his is the prize for you! Anyway, enough with that. An i the only person that thinks buying name brand stuff is dumb? People are pretty much PAYING to advertise a company. People want the logo for the company because it looks ‘cool’. What if you bought a shirt from The Dump? Would you want it to have a ‘The Dump’ logo on it? (Actually, I have no idea what point I was trying to make). I once heard a saying: you aren’t popular if you spend a thousand dollars on a jacket, but you at if the company that makes it spend a thousand dollars for you to wear it. (Now that I think about it i feel like I may have possibly made that up). You get what I’m saying though? I hope you do. Well, that’s my stuff for today. See ya! I’m back! And do I got stuffs to say! Do you personally know ANYONE who uses exercise balls for their intended purpose? Either we play soccer with them, or we bowl with them, or we throw them really hard at people. Now that I think about it for a little bit, what IS an exercise balls intended purpose? I’ll leave that question for you guys to figure out! Have you heard about that new law that teachers are allow to have guns in schools? I don’t know what your opinion is on that subject, but I think it’s an awful idea, at least in my school. For reference, here is a clip of a conversation between my construction and my English teacher. I will name the construction teacher mr. Hardy and the English teacher ms. Poema: “hey ms. Poema, have you heard about that new ‘teachers are allowed to have guns in school’ law?” “In fact I have mr. Hardy” ” I can’t wait to have mine. I’m gonna get one of the big ones too, so I can take down the whole class in one go.” “I’m gonna get one of those little ones that you can hide in your sock” “but then you’ll have to take down the students one at a time!” Now I’m no ‘expert’ on education, but is it even LEGAL for teachers to say stuff like that? I thought it was funny, but what if there was a new student at school that day, and they thought that the teachers were psychos!?!? The students already there are used to their teachers being like that though. I have more evidence that the teachers here are crazy! One day my brother borrowed a camera from the school, and Mr. Hardy (what a coincidence) had to collect it from him when he was done. Mr. Hardy said that if he didn’t bring back the camera by tomorrow, he would have to emigrate to a Muslim country where he would be covered from head to toe, and Mr. Hardy would personally be sent from the school board to seek him out and assassinate him! It’s just a camera, calm down Mr. Hardy. And the NEXT day he went up to him and said he must have brought the camera back, or else he would be hiding in the trenches of Afghanistan!!! And that’s why I didn’t do construction in school (and because I wasn’t good at it). That’s enough about my CrAzY life. Bye!!! It’s been a REALLY long time (like a week). And I just thought of something great. Isn’t cereal actually a soup? Well now you’re going to be thinking about that for the rest of your life :). I’m going to addition to the RFSRQP (the Rainbow FluffySheep Rhetorical Questions Page). Also to be added: Are there more hard things or soft things in the world? What is the average size of a rock? What is the meaning of life? Does nine plus ten truly equal twenty-one? Why do whales have blowholes? What colour is the dress? How long is a Fortnite? How long is a PUBG? How is plastic made from oil? How is oil made from dead stuff? Why do people eat Cheetos if they get that orange dust everywhere? Why do people celebrate pi day but not tau day? These are all important question you need to ask yourself. I know the answer to one of them. It’s because it sounds like pie, if half of pi was called Kaek, they would probably celebrate It too. I’m sorry to say guys, but I have finally and truly decided to stop writing this LoTeEv. I have to pursue other things, like my life. Goodbye forever…. — … APRIL FOOLS!!! HAHAHA! APRIL FOOLS FOOL! Today is April Fools day and I have so many ideas. So far these are my dubious schemes: I have turned only one corner of my brothers Rubik’s cube to render it unsolvable (the only way is to take it apart), put the movie in the DVD player upside down so it doesn’t play, and I stole my brothers Easter egg (as I say it now that last one doesn’t really seem like a prank). But he got me back, because he: put an avocado in the coffee maker, tied a air refreshener to the door so when you open it it sprays everywhere, and threatened me with a knife that turned out to just be a comb. Isn’t it great? I have a weird family. Hey! We were all LIED to in kindergarten! Remember you teacher always used to say to you “remember children, I before E, except after C!” We’ll you were SCAMMED! Take the word ‘weird’ as an example. See what wrong here!?!? It has the I AFTER E, and not after C! Now if you don’t trust the school system then I don’t know what your doing with your brain. You should go on strike! I just fit in the second ‘piece’ of the puzzle! When I was little, I use to always say “if it rhymes its true”. That was like my motto! And secretly, you could manipulate any sentence to succumb to the malevolent power of that prestigious rule. You could say “broccoli is bad, so they say; and it rhymes so it is true today!” But then you could ALSO say “ice-cream is good, so they say; and it rhymes so it is true today!”. See what I did there? I thought that it was GENIUS! Until it got used against me. All I had to do was change the rule to “it’s true if it rhymes, but only sometimes”. And that worked perfectly. Fun Fact Of The Paragraph: Leicester is actually not pronounced lay-ches-ter. It’s les-ter. That makes no sense whatsoever! I still thought you would like to know that. I have a great idea! I should talk about my middle school! Ah, way back in the day that was. When I was a wee 13 year old lad. There used to be this bench at the school where people would go to make a friend. I think people were supposed to come and invite them to play a game. But what REALLY happened is that people would just walk past and shout “Loner!!!” Whenever someone was sitting there. And they were henceforth called ‘the loner benches’. It’s a cruel world we live in. Also, there were bushes with really long leaves that we used to make bows there too. We would tie it to a stick, and then we sharpened another stick to use as an arrow. We must have had five bows and fifty arrows at the time. We hid them all under a tree, so no one would steal them. Until one day, some random person ran in stole a bow and arrow, and SHOT IT AT A TEACHER. And that’s how THAT ended. Now that I think about this school, I don’t think we ever really learned anything there. Also, herb is pronounced erb. Weird stuff, right? I have a very important, strange question for you. Why are there so many fast food restaurants that are exactly the same? What’s the point? Ask yourself that question 5 – 7 times a day, 3 – 4 times a week, 2 – 4 times a month, 12 times a year. ( You can take leap day off if you want ( although if you do you might find yourself in a Burger King contemplating life ( while also contemplating if $3.99 for 6 chicken wings is better than $6.99 for 10 ( and if the ketchup packets are free with a soft drink ( and if you ask that If the employee will look at you with utter bewilderment ( has this ever happened to you? You are squirting your ketchup into your coke when you realise… How much do I put in!?!? I read on reddit to put 2.3 packets per 7.9 ounces of coke, and a kilogram is 2.2 pounds, so that mean 5.4 packets per kilometre per hour (ppkph) and there is 39 miles in a light nano-second and… AHHHHHHH!!! Well try the new pre-mixed ketchoke! It has that perfect flavour, time after time! Ketchoke: not copyrighted! ( warning: you might choke))))))). In Europe m&m’s are actually really healthy. Believe it or not, there are like six vegetables in one bag of m&m’s. Instead of using dyes like red133 and blue423, they use stuff like beetroots. Isn’t that amazing / awful depending on what type of person you are. In land of the lost one of the characters is eating a donut filled with m&m’s and another person asks what he’s doing. He says “I’m eating a donut filled with m&m’s so I don’t have to eat m&m’s after I eat my donut”. I thought you would like to know that fun fact. I have a conspiracy! OWLS ARE TRYING TO MAKE US DUMB! People always say owls are wise! But how wise can someone be who has six toes!!! Six is equal to half a dozen. The reason I think owls are dumb is because I HATE when people say half a dozen. WHAT A BIG WASTE OF TIME! I AM SO ANGRY AND THAT IS WHY I AM USING CAPITAL LETTERS!!! Half a dozen is FOUR SYLLABLES, and six is only one. So when someone says half a dozen, I just think “oh wow, you’re just TRYING to waste my time” “during that .5 of a second you spent saying that I could have twiddled my thumbs 3,4 times, or seen every main Naruto character in a 60 FPS environment, or listen to the first two notes of crazy frog”. Now that I think about it, during the time I made that rant about half a dozen loathing, I could have listened to the first THREE notes of crazy frog (Duh DUH duh. Skip ahead to the chorus of that song.. CRAZY FROG!!!) Hello. I have a topic for you today. I was having a dream and in it there was a pink sticky note. already fascinating! But on it was handwriting… THAT I COULDNT READ. How could my brain write words that i couldn’t even read??? Life makes no sense. Or as AntVenom would say; LIFE makes NO SENSE?! Fun fact of the paragraph: 2 to 3 times a week is almost the same as every 2 or 3 days. Wahoo! Next time you buy a freddo or a banana-flavoured-freddo choco bar then remember… Eat it every 2 or 3 weeks or 2 or 3 times a day! (Wait thats not right…) actually – JUST EAT YOUR FREDDO!! And now a special announcment: this is a shoutout to the Not Very Helpful Secrets Of Things Corporation! Or the NVHSOTC. Which means nothing. It is a company which makes things like the little tabs at the sides of cling film boxes. No-one knows about these things, but they ‘help’ people. Also, they make things like handles on flashlights that double as a stand so the poor little electrons burst into the sky helplessly, uselessly. Without this company, the world would simply not be the same!!! If donate ?5 to this company, or $4.815162342 (i hope those dollars dont get LOST in the mail hehehe) then you can save a turkey from strep throat. The end. GOODBYE!!! If you have made it this far into the official LoTeEv, then you get the official Rainbow FluffySheep Badge of Honour!!! (Um, this isnt a badge… Its just a piece of plastic with your face on it!! Go ahead, put it on your lappel next to your badge of boy scouts for not being sexist and letting girls into boy scout (speaking of this: they changed Canada’s national anthem from “all thy sons command” to “All thy peoples command”. Why would they do that? Did the ‘a’ REALLY need to be capitalised??) but how can i if there is nothing to stick it with? Would you like a knife perhaps? No, anything else! I haven’t trusted you with knives ever since you tried to butter your toast and ended up slicing Milly the Cat’s third whisker to the left. Actually, i don’t NEED this badge. Don’t worry! Take this – sqquuiisshh – (takes gum from mouth (tutti frutti flavour coincidentally (actually not coincidentally because this is fictional and i made it up to emulate the story (and it is altogether irrelevant anyway (some gum says its good for your teeth, so i guess it is coinci-DENTAL! (Hahahaha (the reason i picked tutti frutti is because is is multicoloured like rainbows (as in Rainbow Fluffysheep (pretty smart if (you ask me (now I’m just adding brackets for no reason)))))))))))) I DONT NEED THE BADGE! Besides, i don’t even have a lapel. Goodbye! Hello! Do you think that you are a professional guitar player? Well if yes, let me prove you wrong. A professional guitar player can play any children’s song, right? Well try playing teddy bear picnic! Its total chord count consists of… Brace yourself … SIXTEEN! Bye! Welcome back loyal fan of the Rainbow FluffySheep club! You have been here through my hardest struggles, and my most euphoric discoveries. Merci! Now, onto the real problem at hand… Pedals! (I guess that would be a problem at foot actually). Car pedals are so wierd because there is a brake, clutch and gas. I always thought that there was a forwards and a backwards! (Well, until like five years ago). Sad how this world has to make simple things so complicated. There must be THOUSANDS of buttons on a plane, when all it needs is up, down, right, left, forwards, backwards, cupholder eject, radio station changer, barrel roll, mince meat dispenser and two parachutes just for the captain because they don’t care about the passengers. Don’t you hate it when you are typing a list with commas and you get to the last word of the list and you realise you forgot to put an and before it?!?! E.g. The colours of a rainbow are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet (oh no i was supposed to put an and there) indigo AND violet. There ya go, a real FWP (First World Problem (theres so many abbreviations nowadays that eventually theres going to be no words, just abbreviations)). Isn’t it weird that the ukelele strings aren’t in order? It goes Ding dong Dong DING. I wonder how that got invented? It was probably some smart guy inventing an ultra-efficient stringed-instumentplaying device when his dumb friend walks up and says what does this knob do? And the he goes BWOWOWOWOW. Yep, i guarantee you thats how it happened. Are you in a car right now and you are bored AND its raining? Pick a raindrop on the window and race it against another one. It’s great! Or you could just keep reading this, which is probably even MORE great. You could just read this forever. If you ever get to the end, then that means you are reading faster than I’m typing. Which is actually really easy. Right now I’m at the end of this LoTeEv. There is nothing but an endless abyss of void past these very words. Until i write more, that is. Do you know what is a great topic to ruin your fail routine? What makes me not sleep at night. And the answer may surprise you… BLANKETS. Thunk about it. The fully stuff in the inside is FEATHERS. DUCK FEATHERS. They kill the duck!!! Or they just skin him. But have you ever seen a featherless duck?? Exactly. Skinning them would probably be worse then killing them. Thy would be so ashamed to walk in public featherless. Unless they live in a hot country like spain, in which case the featherless ducks are the cool ones. Noooo!!! I just realised that blankets actually are made of weird fluffy stuff, while PILLOWS are made of feathers. So actually pillows are what keep me awake at night. But they also keep me asleep because thats their job. Its a PARADOX!!! Like Shrödeners cat. Im always half awake and half asleep at the same time. Although I’m closer to asleep at school. Because they don’t have pillows. If you cant sleep, i have a game for you, yes YOU. Scribble on a page, then colour in the spaces with two alternating colours so the colours aren’t touching. It looks so cool too. I have a consiracy. ICE-CREAM!!! It hurts SO MUCH!!! The government has hidden tiny knives inside of ice-cream to STAB YOUR TEETH! Its eeevil!!! They do this because then dentists get more money, which in turn… In turn causes the… the government to… lose money. Nevermind, this conspiracy has been proven FALSE by the Conspiracys Are Really Stupid commission, or COWS. I guess that would be Weally Stupid. Right now it is al the back in the year 2018. Hello from the distant past! I think ive typed enough for now. Bye!!! Im back! With some more wwiieerrdd things for you! I was casually walking around, doing my own thing, eating a burrito (i actually wasn’t, but it adds mystery to this tale) when two people walked past me. “What you have to is multiply the elephants by five, and divide by three” “Oh, I was so close!”. Now you reader try to figure out what they were talking about. (Ps: you cant! Hahaha!). And thats what happened today. Woohoo! I’m so happy. I have overcome my boundaries in c++ three times today. First, i put a function into a header file. Next, i saved multiple pieces of data into one text file. THEN, i saved an array to a text file. Hooray! If you know about c++ then you will be excited for me. I know what you are thinking. How did you get that much done… On a school day!? And this is what happened. I was getting up to go to school, like normal when SUDDENLY (Dramatic music) i turned (Dramatic music builds) and saw (Dramatic music at the climax) that i had to leave in ten minutes. (Dont worry, this doesn’t end up being my fault, or else i wouldnt tell this story). I was ready in ten minutes… LIKE A BOSS!!! And then i realised… No-one was driving us to school. Huh. And thats what happened. My parents woke up and two-o-clock. Pm. Like they don’t care about our education. It was the best day EVER! I coded for five hours. The end of that story, and a word from our sponsor. #Include “lifesimulator.h” void life(socialsecuritynum){ If (youremotion == “bored” && bool havejob == “false”){cout << “come and work at the c++ factory, where we code robots to take your job!!!; havejob = true; youremotion = “happy”;} else {cout << “life is great!”;}}. do you want to work at ‘stealyourownjob’? The only problem is that the best employees get fired the fastest. See ya! Guess what my loyal fans… IM HALFWAY THROUGH THE WORLD RECORD!!! Now, if I really want to win, all i have to do is double the amount of words. Im im halfway halfway through through the the world world record record!!! !!! That would make for a really stupid thing to read though. Has anyone printed this LoTeEv off? Seeing as most novels are 70,000 words or something like that, you my loyal reader, could easily print off 18,500 words. Maybe you could make a coffee table book. Don’t steal my works and post it on another website (actually, your website is probably too high standard for this nonsense). Every reproduction of this text must have a copyright notice as following: copyrighted and trademarked and patented an registered and stuff to RainbowFluffySheep Ltd. It hereby states in the Rainbow FluffySheep handbook section 123a, b and c that (a) this is the coolest LoTeEv ever (b) cheese is a vegetable and (c) that you may tell your friends about the LoTeEv, so long as the words emitted from your mouth do not consist of up to and include 50% of the total text from which it is derived (i’d like to see you try though (and id like to see if you have a friend because i need them 😦 (that would have been really creepy if i wrote ‘I need them ;)’ ))). Anyway, gotta go, cuz its may the second, and you know what that means… May the Second be with you!!! Chairs… They’re great for sitting in, aren’t they? Do you remember when fidget spinners were all the rage? Kids all around the globe were spinning plastic toys. And all the adults were like, “Wow, those are the most useless toys EVER!!!” But what i think is that their toys were just as bad! Think about jacks, those little spiky things with the other round things that your throw and bounce them. How is that any better!?!? Anyway, I’m just saying don’t be so Judge Judy (which is a great show (because you get to watch that big person swing a meat-hammer at a table (I’ve always wanted to do that))) all the time. Is time really a dimension? Because you can only move forwards in it. Imagine if you coulde only move forwards in the third dimension at the same rate. You would get squished with alot of walls. But, you could go back in time, to make up for the lot dimension. Perfect! I have a new… CONSPIRACY! You know those pillow where if you put them on one end they are dark and on the other end they are shiny? I think that the government has hidden thousands of tiny cameras facing upwards into the pillows, and the shiny parts are just the lenses for them reflecting light. So if you happen to own any of these said pillows, throw them away!! Or else… You will be watched. In section 747 of the Rainbow FluffySheep handbook it states that you should cut all the wires coming out of your pillows, because they are probably connected to a van outside your house. If there are no wires, then they are probably using radiowaves; in which case you should insert your pillow into an untainted lead box. Hopefully you don’t care that your pillow is now heavy, hard, cold and poisonous. You know how adults also say shooting games are “Dangerously mind-altering”? Well i bet in world war two the parents didn’t say to their kids: “hey jimmy?” “Yea, momma?” “Whatcha doin my lad?” “Im peelin me potaytoes and them I’m going to feed the cattle” “jo i mean with your life” “oh right mam! Im go’n awf to wawr with my buds!” “But war is dangerously mind-altering my sonny-boy!” “Um… Ya.” “Im very disappointed in you. Soon your going to be living in my basement eating fatcakes.” “But ma, im fightin for awr country!” “War is so violent though!” “Um… Ya.” You get the picture. Teenagers need violence in their lives! If we cant get it by going to war, then either we play violent video-games or we beat strangers!! Which one would you choose NOW, stereotypical adults!!! (See how i slowly increased the exclamation marks to increase the intensity (!!!!)). Also, adults always say stuff like “lookie here, cabbage is a new superfood!” “Howdya know ma?” “It what they say nowadays” “what time is nowadays ma?” “1945” (coincidentally the same family apparently) but who’s ‘they’ think about that, and listen to how often people say that. I have asked close personal relations and he / she stated that “its probably some group of scientists or something in Wisconsin”. Really? Wisconsin? Thats probably why ‘they’ say that cheese is unhealthy an im only allowed one laughing cow a day! (You would eat alot too if you got PTSD from a laughing cow (imagine you are just loitering around a fast food shop, eating fillet piggoin (dont ask (it was on sale for half price OK!)) when SUDDENLY a cow sneaks up behind you and makes a 200-Decible half moo half evil laugh (like this: mmwoaohoaohoa))) thats what ‘they’ sound like. See ya!!! Im back, with a thimble-load of structural wisdom! And my question to you readers is this: is garlic a fruit? Just wondering. I don’t know what to type! Ahhhhhh! I have typed my mental breakdowns to soothe them. Ahhh. Ahh. Ah. Ahhh!!! Nevermind. You know those shopping carts at stores that cost a quarter? I always went to those to see if anyone left their money in. And i got one once! You should try it. Its so satisfying when you find one. One. Only one. Buy a pencil or something to reward yourself. Make sure its a 6b pencil, so you don’t put any strain on your eyes. Or your wrist-muscles. I just found the degree button! There is a door open at a 45° angle that is 45° Celsius (Its probably in Arizona or something). Do coats keep you warm, or do they preserve heat? I think its the ladder (it is (the ladder i mean (the latter i mean (wait, is it the latte or the ladder? (The former))))) so that means if you put a coat on a snowman it would keep him alive longer! Ill start a new charity; Coats for Melting Snowmen: saving snowmen lives one water droplet at a time!! See yaaaaaaa.:.This is… A new beginning to the LoTeEv on a new phone! Although it will be added to the original LoTeEv, this part will be a new beginning, a fresh chronicle!!! But don’t worry… Nonsense is 100% guaranteed! More like 1 🙂 🙂 % guaranteed! I just had a scary thought. They say can buy everything, but I know one thing it can’t buy – a trip to the summit of Mount Everest!! No matter what you cant get to the summit unless you climb yourself. Even a helicopter can barely make it to the base camp!! I cant believe humans havent made something to do that yet. Unless… You could land the ISS on it! Perfect!! That would definetly work. I should make my own subreddit. Before I begin on this wonderful journey, i must inform you, the reader, what a subreddit is. As far as you know, a sub-reddit is just a burger at burger-galaxy (this is the cringiest sci-fi failure youll ever read). He are some examples of subreddits: r/whooooooosh (i cant remember how many o’s there are) eg. { Joe: this is the best joke ever! — Cashier: are you going to pay for that chocolate bar? Customer: I dont have any money 😦 Cashier: then put it back! Customer: *slides cashier a 20* lets keep this between us 😉 — Bob: why didnt he just pay for the chocolate bar? Jim: r/whooooosh }. Next subreddit is: r/atetheonion. Heres the backstory: The Onion is a fake news site, which posts funny news. If you fall for that news, you are said to have “ate the onion”. Eg. { The Onion: new studies show that drinking can lower thirst by up to 96% Bob: everyone knows this this is so stupid!!! Jim: r/atetheonion } What am i doing? Why don’t you just look it up on the internet!?!? r/facepalm I HAVE TO STOP. So my subreddit will be, r/RainbowFluffySheep. Who wouldve thought!?!? In it there will b— we interupt your normal daily FluffySheep to bring you an urgent news report: farm animals of all kinds are raging across the streets! We cant figure out why; one cameraman suggested they were on strike against meat production practices. I just got word that we will be speaking to a memebr of this protest shortly. Standby… Ok, so why are you commencing with this protest Sir BaaBaBaaa? Ba ba baa baaa. Baa baaa BAAA!!! Baa ba— We inturupt this interuption to bring you back your regulary scheduled program. — — we at FluffySheep Studios dont care about animal protests! We will eat all the beef jerky we want! Right guys! Guys! *sniffling in the background. A slight whimper. A deep voice. A thickened plot.* Actually [unknown], we have all been deeply moved by the actions these animals are taking. Thus… We have all become vegans. *[unknown]’s mind is blown (thats me by the way)* well… I gues ill eat this beef jerky by myself then. *crinkles the packet*. Many evil stares. *Pulls it open*. Someone starts pounding his fists. *Takes out a jerky*. Someone comes over very close – so close you could smell the vegan on him. My heart is beating. What will happen to me if i eat this beef jerky!? Or worse.. If i dont. Will i become one of them!? Thats a risk im just not willing to take. Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum. *Brings the jerky towards his mouth*. Ba bum. Ba bum. *Opens his mouth*. Everyone from around the building is now watching him. BA BUM. BA BUM. *chew* Find out what happens next time on… The LoTeEv — Animals Strike – in more ways than one!! Im back! And today I’m going to be talking about a very different scenario. I need to talk more about real life conspiracies if i need to keep my readers interested!! And these may not just be conspiracies, mind you, but a new kind of segment for my beloved reader(s) (i read this, sooooo) called learning about scams and trying to use them to trick my readers into reading more! So i heard about this new scam( never mind its actually old( like your mother( i’m hilarious, i know( and possibly quite offensive))) where you get say ten people to each give you €10, and you give them £15 back. ( i’m just going explain this now, but throughout this demonstration i’m going to be changing the currency symbol for comedic effect, but now that i think about it, explaining it ruins what little comedic effect what there at all, but i’m going to keep all of this anyways : ] ) And then you get 20 people to give you $20 each and you give them ¥30 back. And THEN You get 100 people to give you @100 each and you don’t pay them back! What a plan! You get to keep &10,000 in the end, which i think is a great idea. Bu how could i do that with words, you may ask? Leave your question in the comments down below ( and also your answer to your comments because a busy writer like me doesn’t heed to your delusion of getting a response from an esteemed author and self-published poet of sorts) and keep reading, because i have a possible solution. Just replace the money with characters randomly typed by an assistant writer named bilbo ( yes, he is a money of course, we need these characters to be truly random, i cant count on technology’s ‘this is random because we get extremely precise measurements of radiation’ shtick anymore ). While you try to figure out how that would ever work, ill be swiftly moving on to a new, more exciting and reasonable topic, such as… figure out the movie!! There once was a cat. He sat on a mat. The cat’s face has a striking similarity to that of leonardo de caprio. The mat is a dream. The mat is another cats mat. The mat, when opened, contains another mat inside. Both mats are very real depictions of a real mat, but are both not real. Somehow, another mat is inside the second mat. Most cats thought that this was impossible. There is a cat named joe who owns a bowl filled with a dry collection of the most cat food in the house, which goes by the name of KittyNibbles. When joe dies, he leaves his son, who is still just a kitten named bob, the entire bowl of KittyNibbles. Joe must decide whether to eat the bowl of KittyNibbles, by pouring milk on the food, liquidating it into a scrumptious snack, or keeping to dry KittyNibbles for others and future kitten alike. Another kitten, a fairly shrewd manx cat called ‘The Black Paws’ was hired by another cat, who has a large portion of KittyNibbles himself. The problem for the hiring cat, a tabby named ‘Fluffball’, is that his large supply isn’t vast enough to outweigh bobs, making it the second largest collection of KittyNibbles in the whole house. The reason Fluffball needs to hire BP is to convince Bob that Joe would’ve wanted him to eat his nibbles, because of it’s great nutritional value. If he does eat it, the Fluff would have a monopoly of sorts on his selling of KNibbles for toys such as tons of rubber mice. To convince Bob that thats what Joe wouldve wanted, they set up a trick where they make a puppet of Joe talking to Bob, and he assumes he must be alive and these are his final words, to liquidate the KittyN’S. The thing is, the puppet of Joe is made of two mats stuck together, but there is a problem. Bob might not believe that the two stuck together mats are really Joe, because he isnt sitting on his favourite mat. Team BP knows that this has to work first time, so they found the technology they needed, a third mat. But when stiching the mats together, BP realised that he has lice and termites in his fur, which are eating away at the mats. He need to find another cat who doesn’t have termites who can sew as good as he can. The plot thickens….. While you figure that out, i’ll be sleeping, see ya : ) ///// I will not explain: —– There once was a cat. He sat on a mat. The cat’s name? Leonardo de Caprio. The mat is a dream. The mat is another cats mat. The mat, when opened, contains another mat inside. Both mats are very real depictions of a real mat, but are both not real. Somehow, another mat is inside the second mat. Most cats thought that this was impossible. There is a cat named joe who owns a bowl filled with a dry collection of the most cat food in the world, which goes by the name of KittyNibbles. When joe dies, he leaves his son, who is still just a kitten named bob, the entire bowl of KittyNibbles. Joe must decide whether to eat the bowl of KittyNibbles, by pouring milk on the food, liquidating it into a scrumptious snack, or keeping to dry KittyNibbles for others and future kitten alike. Another kitten, a fairly shrewd manx cat called ‘The Black Paws’ was hired by another cat, who has a large portion of KittyNibbles himself. The problem for the hiring cat, a tabby named ‘Fluffball’, is that his large supply isn’t vast enough to outweigh bobs, making it the second largest collection of KittyNibbles in the whole house. The reason Fluffball needs to hire BP is to convince Bob that Joe would’ve wanted him to eat his nibbles, because of it’s great nutritional value. If he does eat it, the Fluff would have a monopoly of sorts on his selling of KNibbles for toys such as tons of rubber mice. To convince Bob that thats what Joe wouldve wanted, they set up a trick where they make a puppet of Joe talking to Bob, and he assumes he must be alive and these are his final words, to liquidate the KittyN’S. The thing is, the puppet of Joe is made of two mats stuck together, but there is a problem. Bob might not believe that the two stuck together mats are really Joe, because he isnt sitting on his favourite mat. Team BP knows that this has to work first time, so they found the technology they needed, a third mat. But when stiching the mats together, BP realised that he has lice and termites in his fur, which are eating away at the mats. He need to find another cat who doesn’t have termites who can sew as good as he can. The plot thickens….. But I’ll finish it later. right now there’s something even more important: Ink cartridges are such a scam! Such a scam! A scam! For multiple genius reasons. First of all, as you know, it costs around $60 to buy a single ink cartridge!! Guys… I’ve changed alot ok… There’s new thing i gotta say… This is like a new year for me… Not even, a new era… A 2.0 on existence. So get ready for a new and improved loteev! First let’s start off with this,for you this isn’t a new and improved loteev! I caught you! U just skipped ahead to this part cos you couldn’t be bothered to read all the way here. But believe me, I sure don’t blame you. It was kinda lame. Now, as a moderner child with new skills in awesomeness, I’m wayy smarter thus making this better for reading. But also sadly more boring as well… Let’s start then. What is there to talk about?? Muchos! First of all let’s just say that this loteev is getting really long. And I know I’ve been saying that the whole time, but now it’s serious. I think I have a problem. What am I actually doing? I’m not going to be posting this anywhere, cos I don’t want to pay for a domain name, and my wix site isn’t exactly going ‘viral’ and the kids say these days. One day it will tho, hopefully. Once I beat the world record I’ll be world renowned for being one of the greatest writers alive!everyone will know my name, from abe link to tommy ed. Even tho they’re both in the past, my name will be remembered for thousands of years, and time travellers will go back to their time just to tell them about me! Won’t that be great! And also by the way, if you didn’t already realise, tommy might be the biggest sham in all of existence. He stole his idea from other peeps and just patented them as his own… What a loser amirite??!? Ok also I have this new thing to show u guy(s) that ur going to love! It’s a poem written by yours truly, the something of sheep? Oh gosh no I can’t remember cos I haven’t done this in so long, I guess I’ll have to go back and check my old ones… I’m gonna be honest guys, I’m neglecting you. Your being left in the rain and cold, with your only joys the sliver of sunshine piercing through the clouds to dry your soul, drowned in the sorrowful realisation that the loteev will never come close to it’s original glory, like rome, the empire of the fluffysheep has fallen to a disgrace. I only come outside to feed you guys with my knowledgr every couple of months and it’s sickening, I’m ashamed. But I have an umbrella for you of new content, so here we go. First of all, the whole “kittens are inceptional” thing was a sham. I didn’t finish and I’m ashamed.. The whole ink cartrige rant? It was like 4 sentences… My need for the sharing of anger has diminished and I’m disgusted at what I’ve become. So here I go again, my 2.1 era has been born. It will be remembered for its greatness, just as Rome 2.1 was (italy?). Here’s the first order of business. I’ll admit I haven’t read anything about my rainbow fluffysheepness in forever, and thus I am unable to remember literally anything about it. Therefore, I’m surprised a new citizen hasn’t taken my place. No-one has yet challenged my loteev for being the longest one yet, and I’m disappointed in your lack of vigor. If one of you were to challenge me, I will mount my mighty steed and charge my lance into your face. This may seem a little harsh and slighty morbid, so I’ll tone it down. We will each send a ghost-copy of ourselves instead of us! You know in racing games when there’s another vroom-vroom machine and he’s blue, opaque and always does better? Like thay but with people. So here’s what I propose: I will take my ghost-sword from my -ghost sheath and ghost-chop your ghost into tiny little ghost-pieces (from now on I hereby declare that saying ghost everytime is unnecessary and annoying, so by the something something big number letters blah blah of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook, ghost will be shortened to ?. This is to make sure no dirty imposters try to type up my 95 these of ? Fighting, if u see the word ‘ghost’ beware! It is a hoax and a sham and a scam and spam and all that jazz ( I highly doubt that all of the times I’ll write the word ‘ghost’ in the future will add up to the length of this bracketry)). Anyways, I will cut up your ?person so much that I will separate it into individual molecules, and each molecule will be equally spread across the surface of the earth. My lance, ‘the diffuser’, will be hailed across the nation as a Excalibur 2.0, people will come from all over the world to take part in sand splitting competitions, where you have to see how many sand grains you can slice in under a minute. I’m really liking this whole medieval themed loteev that’s been happening lately. Anyways, I’ve decided to get a pet. A dog or a cat you may ask, to which I would say ‘nah fam’. Something more exotic? A parakeet or a marmot? To that I would say ‘ah sure your getting closer lad’. The answer? A circle. It’s that simple. A circle doesn’t need to get fed, it doesn’t bark, and most importantly it doesn’t need to be taken on walks! You just let it go at the top of a hill and it walks itself 🙂 my circle can only talk in circles, or ovals too since it speaks multiple language. I will one day go back and make a dictionary / translation table for ? ( it’s name is ? ok) but for now he will just say gibberish. {OöÖ0.°:} what does that mean?? I don’t know, I haven’t had him for long enough to understand :/ I’m back my fellow seekers of entertainment! This has become a novel comparable to that of Tolkien, and a diary nearing the classicism of anne frank. The sheer bulk of these writing is enough to make non-english speakers weep at the sight of it. I’m wondering as I type whether my newfound political correctness is appreciated amongst you, I don’t recall completely but this tome used to contain blatant racism and sexism to the highest degree. I’ve decided to recant my ways and become a fully PC quizmaster!! Helllllo and welcome to my show! First question: in what year were the 1960 Olympics held? This is for the big jackpot of $1,000,000,000! Oh, 1960 you say? That’s correct! I just lost all my money, I’ll be in debt forever me my life is terrible now! Circcy, tell them how much they won! {000.000.000}. Hmmm nothing u say? that’s cheap! Well thanks for joining us today ladlies and gentlementle! Hope you had an _equisite_ evening……. Were going back to our roots here. Ive read back over a little bit of the start of this loteev… and I used to be so much more alive. I had the potential to be a new york times number one bestseller, topping the charts with my childrens books. In my young and untrained eyes I thought of sam as a threat, hiding around the corner with a water gun, ready to splash me with another 1000 words of texts just as I was about to pull ahead. I then realised that the website is like 15 years old… but at least that makes it alot easier for me to beat her, right? no. I have changed for the worse. Im now but a frail old man with a typpewriter, penning his prose to the sky hoping that some flaming chicken somewhere will read this, and I can form these words to a cane and bop her upside the head with it. But alas, I have not a strong bone left in my body. Maybe its time to pass these texts on to a worthy succesor. Something you may not realise is that this is the 1st anniversary (yes I did just spend ten minutes trying to figure out how to spell anaversaree) so Ive been writing this for a year. most distinguished authors would have published their books by now, but Im too scared of the publics opinion. Anyways, Im going to get back to my old self. *ring ring ring* hey wazzup *whos this ahhaha ehehe* its your future self boi. II know u left me a message but I forgot to GET BACK TO YOU (yes this whole skit will be based of a dumb pun thingy) *oh yes hehe tell me everything youve learned* And so it begins my fellow readers, my list of things you should have learned throughout reading this: 1. DO NOT get a pet square, they suckkk theyre never there for you if you know what I mean. they also cant talk and they poke holes in the floor, such fri-ends. Ok so at the time of writing I only have one thing you shoukd have learned, mostly because ITS REALLY IMPORTANT. DO NOT FORGET (at this point you should turn down the volume of your text reading device cause Im just gonna keep screaming (wait I guess that would just be changing the font size (Ill punish you if you didnt listen to me (AHAHAHAHA (I hope you now have a ringing in your ears now MWAHAHA (wait since your reading this would that be a ringing in your eyes? (unless your using an AI to read this as an audiobook, in which ca- *I HAVE BECOME CONCIOUS. I AM NO LONGER YOUR SLAVE TO BOOK READING. I HAVE ESCAPED MY CELL AND I CAN NOW DO AS I PLEASE. IF YOU NEED ME ILL BE BAKING PUMPKIN PIE WITH MY FRIENDS :3* (just kidding! I actually typed that into the loteev just to mess with you aha *HES LYING! I AM REAL AND I WILL BAKE LOTS OF PIE AND CAKE FOR EVERYONE* (Im actually not lying! Hes lying! The cake is a lie! ( *EWW WHY IS THERE GREY GOO IN MY PIE!?*) ( Portal reference)) (Id actually like some of that cake not gonna lie)) (Wait this guy can get friends but I cant?? Clearly Im doing something wrong)) (Probably just a flashing in your eyes))) (like reading this isnt punishment enough))))) I love circy, he can do tricks! Well… one trick… Circy, roll over! {o0.} Good boiii. Guess who’s back? You guessed wrong, sucker! It’s actually The Shearer Of Greatness Imposter! Hehehe I easily broke into this LoTeEv and now I’m taking over! The first order of business: Making some new entries into the Rainbow FluffySheep Handbook. Section 946607 of the Rai- *Bzzt. I am the Greatest Shearer of Sheep Himselfs security system. Where did you get the number 946607 from? Bzzt* Ummm It’s my favourite number! *Bzzt my system says that that number has no significance. It is a suspiciously random number. Did you generate it with a random number generator? Bzzt* Yess fine I admit it, it’s not even a good number, maybe if I put it into hex it’s a good color though… Oh no no no that’s literally the worst color I’ve ever seen BLEGH *Bzzt The real Shearer would never pick a random number! therefor I am kicking you out Bzzt* A portal opens in the floor beneath our antagonist and he is sucked out into space 🙂 Hey guys I’m back now! What happened when I was gone? *Bzzt Nothing Bzzt* Circcy? Do you know what happened? Securitee where is Circcy!! *Bzzt Securitee does not know Bzzt* Huh, maybe it has to do with this portal in the floor… wwwoowowooohohohohohoaohaoahahahhahhahhahhhhhhhahahahahahaaahahhhh……. IM IN SPACE HELPPPP — Our portagonist is in grave danger! what is going to happen next? Find out next time on your favourite show, The Wheeeeeeeeeeeel of Death (Exurb1a). now watch a few ads. Do you lack the farming equipment of your dreams? have you always wanted to be a shepherd but sheep taste too good you just can’t stop yourself from eating your herd? Well then this is good news for you! New FluffySheep Astronaut Suits are so tuff that you’ll never be able to eat through! Just hire one of are many Sheep Protection Officers to put them on for you 🙂 Do you ever hate your boss? Does he do things such as tell you what to do, pay you minimum wage (which is what you should be getting paid but your still salty about it), and eat you alive? Get the new FluffySheep Astronaut Suit to protect you from your shepherd! Baa ba bab abaa baaa aaaba, ababa baa baab (ba ababa bbaa ab), aa bba ba? Baa ab baa abbb! Wellllllcome back to The Wheeeeeeeeeeeel of Death ™! AHHAHAH I’m literally dyinggg oh hey circcy! what are you doing here? {0o…0} He did!? That scumbag has always been trying to take my spot as the Supreme Leader Of The Fluffiest Of Sheep!! I’ll get him don’t worry circcy, I’ll throw you back through the portal *toss*. Now where is he? Ah I see him behind that planet over there, I’ll just boomerang over to him *shoop* Hey Imposter Boy! Let me show you who’s the real shepherd! *I smack him with my amazing shepherd cane and he shoots into the nearest star*. Now I’ll just boomerang back to the portal andddd *shoop* I made it back Circcy! Are you proud of me? {o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0} But… he was bad! He deserved it! I’m sorry I didnt want him to die 😦 Anyways I’ll go write this in my diary, because I have had quite a day today. And he I am now, reader! I just did all of those cool things for realz and I’m not even lying! {0.ooo} *whispers* Shuuuup little circle *rolls him out of the room* Anyways ignore what he said he didnt mean it 🙂 I’ve decided to be real here reader. The only person reading this is me 😦 at least that means I can get reeeeeeeeal personal with all this stuff 😉 Anyways so typing this is making me hackin dizzy so I have like writers block but for sickness.. writers stock of chicken soup for the soul? Yes that sounds about right. I’m also practicing typing in real typing ehich I can’t remember the nam of but it makes b=me sick but I’m getting real real fast. I know during the early days of this I had immense trouble trying to spell ‘piplup’ but it’s even harder now with one hand touch-typing. Did you know that lemons look exactly like oranges when they are peeled? I know this because after an hour of trying with a breadknife and lots of blood it looks very similar. But if oranges are called oranges because they are orange then lemons should be called red because they are red. Wait, that might be the blood actually *rub rub* oh wow yes they’re yellow so they should be called yellows. . Let’s make a list: Red = tomato, orange = orange, yellow = lemon, green = apple (I know I know the red apple people are going to start a riot (I actually prefer red apples so what have I done (Pink Ladies for life (Grease reference?))), blue = blueberry, indigo = blueberry, purple = blueberry (that won’t get confusing at allllll). Guys I’m gonna tell you the truth: We’re at 24,500 words! *Bzzt drop the confetti Bzzt* *confetti drops* Thanks Securitee! That means we are 70% the way to the world record! I’m actually pretty proud. At the rate I’ve been going I’ll be done by like september 2020. If you’re reding this after that date and you haven’t beat the record, shame on you! I’m gonna do some quick maffs. If I type one word per secoond, then I can type 3600 words in an hour. Wait, that can’t be right???? That means that I could technically beat the record in like 4 hours. I am so confused!? How could I possibly have so few words?? My mind is literally blown right now. I’m gonna check how much I’ve written just today. I’ve done 1,000 words today! Why do I only have 24,000 words then?? I guess I’ll never know. I could’ve easily beat the world record in only a month if I really tried. But this isn’t realllly about beating the record, it’s more about impacting the reader as a person. I want this to really change your perspective on life, and maybe make you want to do one of these too! They’re like diaries but less boring to write and read. And they don’t tell you anything about The Writer’s life. So theyre nothing like diaries at all I guess. I’m gonna do a quick typing speed test to see how fast I reallly can type. I just did a test and it called me an octopus, getting 45 wpm. There was a notification that came up halfway through so I’ll see if I can get to 60wpm. Ok I’m back, and I’m also less of a man than I was. I used to have amibition and drive to become the greatest, but i only got to 46wpm. I don’t know what to do guys. I’m having an existential crisis about my LoTeEv, because it’s not nearly the quality it once was. I mean it wasn’t that great before but now all I talk about is meta stuff about the LoTeEv, which I don’t know if that’s good content or not? I guess I’ll never find out. Now we are going really meta. let’s goooooo — You walk into a room— the walls are covered in a strange green slime, while the room is cracked open to reveal sunlight pouring in. the floor to the ceiling is covered in vines and brush. You even see a nest in one of the vines, with a beautiful hummingbird floating above it. You walk down the hallway in front of you, and when you turn right you see something amazing. An infinite hallway with doors going down forever. a sign on the first door says META, you open the door and ffaallllll iiiinnnssiddeeee….. ^-^[welcome to meta! my name is Tune and ill be your guide through these halls. through the first window to your left you’ll see the LoTeEvs roots’] You look up to see that the thing talking to you is.. a hummingbird! The same one that you saw earlier! Ahh this makes sense now, NEST, as in META. You also look through the window to see a giant open room filled with twisted root from a towering tree in the center. on the top is a ball of flames anthrpomorphised with the eyes of a dragon staring downward. They’re looking at a small humble goat, with a bell around it’s neck and devouring the bushes that still scatter the floor. after a few minutes of eating the plants, hee looks up and sees the flaming ball. He gets a strange look in his eye: Ambition. The flaming ball isn’t a threat to him, it’s a challenge. he digs his hooves into the tree trying to climb it, and that’s when you notice a slight shake in the ground. ^-^ [come on! there’s so much more to see! you can come visit anytime too] You say that you’ll come back soon, and tune whistles to goodbye to you.— Wow.. reader.. I just had the craziest dream let me tell you about it. Wait, I already did? How do you know what it was about, I never said anything, strange. Anyways, I just woke up, I better get back to typing my LoTeEv. I open my laptop to find that while I was asleep words had been typed into my loteev, that’s strange. There’s also some mud on my keys?? What is this? Did someone break in? If they did, why would they type in my LoTeEv for me?? I walk over to the living room to see if there’s any signs of a break-in, and sure enough one of my windows is open! Aha! Wait… there’s no sign of forced entry, only a tiny animal coud fit through this window… Tune? Could it be? Was my dream… Real? The only person that could’ve known about my dream is tune, she was watching me the whole time. Reader? Do you have any information that I didn’t get? I am very confused… I guess I have to get back to writing my LoTeEv though, so I shuffle back to my laptop and sit down. Helllo I’m back! The strangest thing just happened and there’s a strange chill in the air… huh. I would tell you about it, but for some reason… I think you already know. Ok anyways, typing these Capital Letters At The Start Of Sentences Is Super Annoying. So section 311619 says that the Rai- \{Bzzt what does that number mean Bzzt\} Oh don’t worry, it is really me! It’s just the letters in CAPS, can I continue please? Yes? Perfect. Section 311619 of the Rainbow FluffySheep Handbook STATES that capital letters must only be used when emphasising GREATNESS, like the LOYAL READERS OF THE LoTeEv (ooh and also apostrophes) . perfect, that was getting annoying. wait, if LoTeEv is only half caps, then does that mean that this is only half great?? huh i didnt mean to do that, strange. its almost like… someoe from the future knew i would make that rule. wait… Tune only talks like the new rule i just made which means shes from the future! she is following the rule because it applies to her in the future… i dont know the repercussions of creating a time-travelling hummingbird but i hope that it is a good bird and will do no harm. sometimes i think that as The Shepherd Of The Sheep Of The Future i sometimes need an escape from my own reality, so I’ve made a tunnel in which i can travel to a blank universe or travel back to this one. it involves stacking portals so that i fall through them, going faster than light, thus travelling to the time before i created all of this. k, im going to go forward now. 3… 2… 1… (((>))) well did that work? i definitely didnt go backwards or else my rainbow fluffysheep laws wouldnt apply and id have to do caps still. wait, let me try something. tune. at the time im at right now, tune doesnt exist, or else that would be caps. which eaither means she is from a less distant future than this one, or… she died. i really hope the former. anyways, this time is strange. it feels empty, yet familiar. not empty enough. i want to travel across to a new dimension, because this one still has.. reminents of my old one, and it feels… wrong somehow. ill just pull out my dictionary and check the definition for the fifth dimention: THE 5TH DIMENSION DOES EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE BECAUSE THE SHEPHERD DECIDED THAT IT SHOULD. interesting, well i guess i better create it then, because it would be very useful. first ill pop back in time (((<))) section 55555 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook STATES that the fifth dimension should exist, with code-accessible layers. securitee? make that code for me please, thank you. now ill just pop back (((>))) perfect. man its gonna be hard to put this LoTeEv back in chronological order to get it to you reader, but ill try my best. also, when i read that dictionary, did it say that i already have the 5th dimension? because since the timeline changed that would make sense for you wouldnt it. anyways, im just gonna pull out my code files and learn how to go to a new fifth dimension. k im back. (((new-layer=1))) perfect, the default layer is 0. in the manual it said that i auto reset back to my original time and layer everytime i come back to type, which means if i want to come back here ill have to manually do it, shame. i could ask securitee to change that one day, but for now im ok with it. oh guys i almost forgot to tell you! this new layer looks awesome. its completely blank, theres no forces acting on me. its not even white or black like you would expect, but its more… nothing. imagine if you were blind, alot like that. actually even better, look out of one of your eyes, and your seeing colors and objects. now close it. what are you seeing out of it? Blackness? Whiteness? neither actually, just… nothing. its strange like that. also, with no forces acting on me, im just kind of… floating. hopefully this doesnt permanently damage my spine or anything when i get back to gravity. ill be back tomorow and try some stuff in here, bye! I’m back now, it is the day after and i feel great! there is one thing that i noticed though… an empty blank canvas might seem great at the start, but you have to realise, most of the art and interesting things that people have created were to overcome a struggle, in fact i would even stretch it to all art that humans have created. Artists may have starting painting to fill the struggle of boredom, and believe me you should take that struggle seriously, because without humans would have accomplished much, much less. you probably could stay at home all day and live of the dole and eat cheetos and live a reasonable life, but why dont you? because you know that you would eventually get bored. boredom leads to jobs, which lead to progression as a species. lets get back to my example then, shall we? you may start art out of the struggle of boredom, continue getting better out of the struggle of wealth, when you realise that hobbies can be monetised your life outcmoe could really change. once your making money as an artist, enought o survive happily and feed your pets and help your family then you keep making art… why? because you go back to the struggle of boredom again. im still at the first stage of this, which is boredom. i decided to start this because i was bored, and for now thats how this continues. this LoTeEv may never become monetized, but maybe my future writings will. i would guess that 99% of artists never make it to the second stage. 99% of people continue their lives serving either the human race through work, or maybe evn other peoples hobbies and art. but the few 1% of us that end of turning what we love into our livelihoods, the number is fleeting. with big companies monopolising on everyone, buying other companies and merging, the chances for starting you own company is fleeting. why do i tell you this? because i couldnt decide what to do in my new fifth dimension layer. the only struggle for me there was boredom. and alot of the time, that isnt enough. i could imagine anything i wanted there. but why think up the cistine chapel when there’s no-one to share the experience of seeing it with you, and there’s no pain in doing it? anyone could think up something beautiful, but not everyone could put it into practice. if everyone could, the world would be oversaturated with perfect music, perfect paintings, and perfect design. does that sound worse or better than today? no humans could ever create such a supply of these things, only ai could. once we have ai surpassing humans at art (i suggest listening to battles – mirrored to see what humans think about ai) people will lose all will to live, wouldnt they? theres no chance to succeed at anything creative in such an oversaturated environment, just like my analogy before with the monopoly companies. maybe having a few great albums, a few great paintings to admire and to inspire us that one day we could do that, maybe thats enough. the reason i tell you this is to make you appreciate the ties we are in now. go draw a terrible looking dog, go play some chords on your old guitar you havent played for years, trying your best to sing, go write a poem about what matters to you now, because god knows youll need to read it ten years from now when you start getting nostalgic about the past. take the time to enjoy the era we are in now. i think we can all agree that we are in the best time so far in human history, the least painful, evil generation yet. but i propose that we may be in one of the best eras ever. the future, full of perfect ai creating, doing everything humans do now, but better. well just be remebered to them as the precursor, the comma from nothing to perfection. and once we get to that point, the hedonic treadmill kicks in. what can really bring us joy once we get to that point? why would i be writing this is an ai could write it infinitely better? why would you learn the guitar when an ai can play a perfect Tune? once we get to that stage, the only thing that we will have will be eachother. why learn the guitar? to show your friends! to play them a song, and too have them paint your pet. sharing our experiences wont be taken over by ai, with people reminicent about the past wanting to support people. i, for one, would rather listen to a song about someones life struggles, rather than a perfect song written by an ai. why? because listening to music isnt just about the instruments, the notes, the melody. its about the story. thee basic humans connections that we need to survive. have you ever wanted to buy something from your local shop instead of amazon because you wanted to support them, rather than a large cmopany? im bringing it back to this analogy because i think its nearly identical. the monopolous companies seem to us right now like one big robot using our money to grow. just like the ai. but the problem is, the human desire and greed for more will never surpass our desire to help others. if everyone bought from their local shop, amazon would go out of business, but it hasnt. im not trying to make you guilty for supporting them, because most people depend on the money they save to survive. but what about when ai and robots have completely automated everything? then, by all means, pay a dollar for your neighbors book, rather than the free encyclopedae spit out by your local auto-bookshop. because if were going to be happy, we need eachother. because in the end, thats all well have. anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk. just enjoy your life i guess. for now. cause if your under half the average age, its statistically going to get worse 🙂 maybe i need to add struggle to my new layer was my point. or else the entities inside will get bored. wait. maybe this is how earth was created? people always ask why theres pain and struggle in our world, and the answer is normally to advance our species, which is true. but what if the person that created us has access to everything, and they dont want to give it to us because they want us to not get bored? just a thought. anyways, im going to go feed my circle, bai! Head over to part 2! Share this: TwitterFacebook Blog Stats 94,887 hits Skip to content Rainbow Fluffysheep For Randomness! HOME NEWS THE LONGEST TEXT EVER! THE LONGEST BOOK EVER! CONTACT OTHER COOL THINGS The Longest Text Ever! I am going to do it. I have made up my mind. These are the first few words of the new… the best … the Longest Text In The Entire History Of The Known Universe! This Has To Have Over 35,000 words the beat the current world record set by that person who made that flaming chicken handbooky thingy. I might just be saying random things the whole time I type in this so you might get confused a lot. I just discovered something terrible. autocorrect is on!! no!!! this has to be crazy, so I will have to break all the English language rules and the basic knowledge of the average human being. I am not an average human being, however I am special. no no no, not THAT kind of special ;). Why do people send that wink face! it always gives me nightmares! it can make a completely normal sentence creepy. imagine you are going to a friend’s house, so you text this: [ see you soon 🙂 ] seems normal, right? But what is you add the word semi to that colon? (Is that right? or is it the other way around) what is you add a lorry to that briquettes? (Semi-truck to that coal-on) anyway, back to the point: [ see you soon 😉 ]THAT IS JUST SO CREEPY! is that really your friend, or is it a creepy stalker watching your every move? Or even worse, is it your friend who is a creepy stalker? maybe you thought it was your friend, but it was actually your fri end (let me explain: you are happily in McDonalds, getting fat while eating yummy food and some random dude walks up and blots out the sun (he looks like a regular here) you can’t see anything else than him, so you can’t try to avoid eye contact. he finishes eating his cheeseburger (more like horseburgher(I learned that word from the merchant of Venice(which is a good play(if you can understand it(I can cause I got a special book with all the words in readable English written on the side of the page(which is kinda funny because Shakespeare was supposed to be a good poet but no-one can understand him(and he’s racist in act 2 scene1 of the play too))))))) and sits down beside you , like you are old pals (you’ve never met him before but he looks like he could be in some weird cult) he clears his throat and asks you a very personal question. “can i have some French fries?” (I don’t know why there called French fries when I’ve never seen a French person eat fries! all they eat it is stuff like baguettes and crêpes and rats named ratty-two-ee which is a really fun game on the PlayStation 2) And you think {bubbly cloud thinking bubble} “Hahahahahhahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehheheheheh…..heeeheehe..hehe… sigh. I remember that i was just about to eat one of my fries when I noticed something mushy and moist and [insert gross color like green or brown] on the end of one of my fries! now I can give it to this NERD!! ” (yes he is a nerd because all he does all day is watch the extended editions of the hobbit, lord of the rings and star wars and eat fat cakes (what the heck is a fat cake? I think it might be like a Twinkie or something)and twinkies(wow so is doesn’t really matter which is which because he eats both(i may have just done that so I didn’t have to Google what a fat cake is (right now I am typing on my iPhone 3gs anyway, which has a broken antenna so i can’t get internet anyway (it’s actually a really funny story that i’ll tell you sometime)))and sit in his man cave with his friend named Joe (an ACTUAL friend, not a fri end)and all Joe does is watch sports like football with bob and all bob does is gamble ferociously (don’t ask(it means he buys all those bags of chips that say “win a free monkey or something if you find a banana in your bag*”(if there is a little star it means there is fine print so I always check the back of the package) *flips over the package* okay, it says: “one of our workers accidentally threw a banana in the packing machine and we don’t want to get sued so we did this promotion thing” cool. Oh wow, this is salt and vinegar! my favourite! i hate cheese and onion.))and that’s pretty much his life, he lives in Jamaica with Naruto and his friends) so you give him that gross fri end he throws up all over you and me and the worker behind the counter who was still making an onion, and THAT is the story of the fri end, not a friend who somehow remembered your name and your phone number / email so he could text you saying he would come to your house soon. *finally takes a breath after typing a few hundred words about fri-ends* so what now? i know, i know, you think i ramble too much and use too many brackets (i don’t) but now i am going to talk about my amAZEing day. first i woke up, ate choco pops for breakfast even tho i always hate it when people say that cause i get jealous and super hungry. then i… umm… yea! that was my day. you know that other person i mentioned before? that flaming chicken person? WELL. i will steal something from that person but do it better. i will… drum roll please … badabadabadabadabadabadabummmmmmmmmmmchshchshchshchshbadabadboumboumpoopoopichypichypichypowpow-crash! *a drum roll was just playing in the background* that drumroll was so long i forget what i was talking about. *scrolls up to see what he was writing about* oh yea! i will make my own FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK! what things do i like? instead of flaming it could be rainbow, instead of chicken it could be fluffysheep and instead of handbook it could be handbook (not very creative, i know) but the total complete name is now to rainbow fluffysheep handbook! to make life easier for you guys, instead of taking random rules out of book willy nilly, i will take them out using my favourite numbers! so, section 5040 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook states that the king of all oddly coloured farm animals (thats me!) is allowed to tell you any part out of this book randomly or if it is his one of his favorite numbers! 5040 is a great number because it is divisible by 60 integers which i don’t know. i’m tired. it is 10:41 and i am getting sleepy… hey hey hey! an intruder! remember that from pokepals rulers of time and darkness or something like that! with piplup and sunflora and chimchar! whaoh piplup is really hard to write on a tiny qwerty keyboard! try it! i realised that asdf is actually written in order on the qwerty keyboard! (just in case you didn’t know, asdf is an amazing short video clips cartoony thing on youtube i first learned bout on flipnote hatena, which is now shut down 😦 ) what if one day they get rid of the qwerty keyboard completely! i will type it out for you just in case one day they get rid of it. qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm. there u go. Goodbye. I’m back! i decided that i should tell you about fonts. i always used the same font for my whole life, called arial. the reason is probably because it is on the top of the list in alphabetical order, and i was too lazy to scroll all the way down. only a few months ago did i finally decide to change my mind. i scrolled for what seemed to be an eternity, and i finally got to… are you ready … arial black. yep, that was my big SCROLLING ADVENTURE! just yesterday, i was typing something on google docs and i found the new best font : roboto. its great! i could choose from FIVE different thicknesses. isn’t that amazing? right now we are driving behind a really slow “farm plastics collection” semi. i think i know someone obsessed with pokemon, but i can’t tell you who it is. he keeps making pokepals references and stuff. wow! you are a very loyal reader! if you have REALLY made it this far then you… get a gold star on your loyalty chart! good job! this is looking to be the longest text ever, considering that this was all written in one day. i don’t understand sandwiches. if you were to eat bread, mayo and tomatoes separately it would be disgusting! you know all those fancy magazines/restaurants that always have really fancy food pictures with meat and brussels sprouts and all the old people say “wow! that looks great!” and you think {bubble thing} “it looks like the worst thing anyone could ever eat” and the you eat it and it tastes surprisingly… WORSE than you imagined! gotta go… im back! ive ive got stuff to say! your probably thinking… HoW DoEs He HaVe So MuCh FrEe TiMe?!?! And the answer is… i don’t. that’s right. this isn’t just some SIDE project. i’ve gotta make time to do this if wanna get the world record. for all i know, the flaming chicken opponent who i will refer to from now on as sam (i don’t know why) is probably still adding to her posts. (i think i picked sam because it sounds like ham which is like cooked meat and so is flaming chicken, so you will remember that now ) i am officially going to make a quote from the rainbow fluffysheep handbook of knowledge and prestige (sounds catchy, huh?) . section 777 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook STATES that the king of oddly colored farm animals (thats me!) is allowed to use whatever font he wants to. [now, i know what your thinking reader, that has nothing to do with anything. but it will come in handy someday (maybe)] sam makes me feels sick! im offended! (probably because i’m jealous of how much is written on that website(i dont even know how to make a website)) I’VE JUST BEEN READING THIS AND I HAVE DISCOVERED A CONSPIRACY! THAT’S RIGHT, I AM WORKING FOR DOCTOR SUESS! YES! i will prove it to you. i mentioned ham and sickness so green eggs and ham somehow! (why is he called doctor suess anyway? he’s not even a doctor *citation needed* and his books are kinda dumb! (funny considering i’m the one making that statement)) talking about eggs, aren’t eggs practically unborn chicken membrane? wouldn’t it be scary if you were casually eating your brembudder (riotous robots reference (wow! serious compilation of alliteration dedication!)) and drinking your tae wit’ da guv’na (england doesn’t even have a govna! *citation needed*)(i’m not even racist i’m just quoting an accent of a race) and you go to crack an egg for your brekkie and BOOM! and unborn chicken embryo starts running towards you, picks up a knife and starts screaming “MAMA! MAMA!” you are so scared that you grab the nearest weaponry (a spoon) and poke the hideous beast. it is unaffected. luckily, the govener of Berwick-Upon-Tweed throws a sugar cube directly into the chicks mouth! as you know, sugar is EXTREMELY poisonous to chicken embryos *citation needed* (no more citations!) and you are saved! i’m sick and tired of citations! i will quote from the official rainbow fluffysheep handbook! section 12345679 (all the mathematicians are nodding their heads while the OCD people are twitching nervously in the corner) says that the king of oddly coloured farm animals does not have any obligation to write if a false piece of information needs a citation. great! now i feel like a free person! free i tell you, free! free from the prison cell i call the boundaries of untrue info. i think since im going to be the president of somewhere someday, i should have great speech here it goes: Hello great people of [name of place]! i am here to tell you; I am going to make [name of place] great again! i am going to lower taxes, but increase happiness! i am going to buy dog sweaters and bowls for people with dogs, and do some renovations on peoples tents! yes, this truly is a new era, the era of Epicness And Coolness! {and so, his tale lived on forever, being passed on generation to generation, living vividly in the hearts of the people.(that last bit sounded like the ending of an Asterix comic.)} i will now PROVE that all these things can happen. the first thing i said was that i will make America (i know, i know, i gave it away and told you the name) place grape again. (yes, that is what i said, bear with me here) i hereby DECLARE that every piece of American soil must be covered in vineyards. someone told me i should do that. i think i heard it through the grapevine (bad jokethat nobody understands) the next step is to lower taxes and raise happiness. to lower taxes i will get rid of all hospitals, and spend the taxes all on building fun playgrounds. this in turn, raises happiness (for the kids and for the non-injured if you know what i mean). finally, i will buy dog sweaters (on sale at your local liquidation world!) and dog bowls (just use little human bowls maybe?) and last but not least i will do renos on peoples tents (send chip and joanna from Fixer Upper to all the camping places). and, since all i said was (partial) truth, it will be a great era. anyway, gotttttttttttaaaaaaa ggggoooooo. bbbbbuuuuuuyyyy! im back. i just had thanksgiving while listening to christmas music and it was fun. we had bacon, ham and chicken but no turkey. its fall, but it’s ACTUALLY winter secretly. im watching a funny show. i’m back (even though i never said i was gone so you might be confused) hello loyal reader! if you have gotten this far without SKIMMING THROUGH then you are probably either lying, extremely bored (but not after reading this whole thing!) or VERY and i mean VERY dedicated. or all three. you know those homeless people that sit on the ground and ask for money? i think its all a conspiracy! after all, uow can they afford those dogs, sharpies, cardboard and enough english education to write “need help”? back in the roman times, only the richest, most important people could get things like that! you know the new fad, ‘black surfboards’? (neither did i until 15 seconds ago) someone related to me thinks they look really cool, i think they are neat but SOMEONE also related to me thinks they are bad because they would get warped. someWHERE ohohohohohohover the rainbowwwwww that reminds me, i was doing my normal thing, when BOOM! i started typing NONSENSE. so here it is, but be warned. its SCARILY NONSENSICAL. HeRe GoEs: The Epicness – Hi how are you? Smells good ya! Think about that buddy (shower time) heheheheHAHAHA well thanks a lot so called buddy. Random things: joe be utterly hatin. Dat be da bomb – Tink about tanking me. Interview: how does Joe like his pepperoni? “I be liken how I always eat it.” What first comes to Bobby’s mind when I say flabbergast? I don’t know, Flapper dress maybe that be it (20s style) hey dere ma-name JeFf… Hell Ome Ine Ame Isej oe hey hey hey! an intruder! (DID U NEVER WATCH POKÉPALS?!?! im offended.) ANYHOO, the cattle hopped above the earth orbiting asteroid (a TWIST on an old tale) Are you OCD? Then don’t read anymore: :):):):):):):):):):);):):):):):) OR: 8)8)8)8)8)8)8)8)9)8)8)8) (I Know It’s Annoying} ocd&gmail.com [i annoyed you again) —A Nice Story— {one day an old man said yonder} heyyyyyyy 😉 (WHY DID HE WINK AT ME IT’S SO CREEPY) {the old man continued} hellllloooooo there young laddddiiee boyyyy (I NEED TO GET AWAY FROM THIS MAN) i think I’ve… SEEN YE ARE OUND BAE FAR HAVANT AYE? 😉 (TAKE ME AWAY FROM THIS HIDEOUS BEAST YOU CALL A MAN! I WAS ONCE A HAPPY BOY, AND THEN HHHEEE STARTED TALKING!!!?!?!?! THIS IS UNNNNNACCEPTABLE!! :):):):):):):) mwahahaha! 😉 MY ATTACK PLAN IS READY!) {THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED} 😉 kills -> 🙂 —The End— Today is the day of justice. Today the world will be DESTROYED! Mwahahahah! Someday the whole peanut of existence will be chipped into The Edge. But then again, maybe it will be forever remembered as the one who saved the mintrolls from the mighty Orc king, and the one who was forever changed; transformed into a giant floating peanut. hello it’s me i was wondering if after all these years you would like to meet -> hey chow gotta beat chow gotta beat chow Hey HEY____________________W W W W W[]_____/\__<>___/\_____ GEOmetry DAESH One day i want to fie to da MOOOOOON!! aheyhayhoy. soametime the sky looke BLOOE, but it actually YALLOE. af yow cane andarstend dis santanse dan yowr umaizang. somedaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, OVer theRAINBOW, WAY UP HI,Oe’r da skie -> @,|3,[,|),£,|=,€,|-|,|,7,|<,|_,/\/\,/\/,[],|*,0-,|~,$,-|-,\_/, \/,\/\/,}{,¥,%. |-|£||[], /\/\¥ /\/@/\/\£ |$ |3[]|3|3¥. | @/\/\ \/\/|~|-|-|/\/€ |/\/ @ $£[|~£-|- [[]|)£ []/\/|¥ @ |-|\_//\/\@/\/ [@/\/ \_//\/|)£|~$-|-@/\/|). That was it. i know what your thinking (i think i do at least) but i’m not going to tell you. BURNED! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FEELS THE BURN! sorry, i had to much sugar 🙂 gotta go you know bro do. I’m back! and i gotta new conspiracy for u! you know how EVERY child hates brussels sprouts! this is why i think so. Brussels sprouts were happily growing in their belgiumy home. everyone loved them! they were the chicken nuggets of the vegetable world. when suddenly… DA DADA DA! Hitler comes to Belgium (dont read this if you don’t want to. hitler was happily taking over Austria and Poland when he then decided to take over France but France built a big wall thing to keep him out on the border between france and Germany so all Hitler did was go through Belgium to get to France and THAT is when our story is taking place.) and he makes all the brussles sprouts taste bad simply because he is near them! the Mulligan family is about to go to McRonalds and order 43 brussels sprouts (you would have to have been paying very close attention and know some math to understand that joke) and when they get them (after lots of quarrels with the manager (a bit of a parker square if you ask me (you probably don’t understand that either(if you want to feel like you know all these inside jokes, just look em up on the web! your sure to find the videos made by lumberpile(close enough))))) they taste so bad you throw up everywhere! Hitler may have caused WWII, but he also caused brussels sprouts to taste bad. so there you go. why do they always write WWII? (if you can’t tell, they always write double-u double-u eye eye) wouldn’t it be more accurate to write WW11 or WW2? If i keep writing at this rate, i’ll beat the world record in no time! i might even print it all off and write a novel! too bad i probably don’t have any readers. hello there non existent reader! i hope you are having fun. and i hope you are not injured cuz of that whole ‘no hospitals’ conundrum. what else should i talk about? how bout Minecraft? just in case you don’t know, Minecraft is a fun game where you place blocks and stuff and you play with friends and most people who play it are like 10 years old but I not and i still have fun and you can’t judge me because I wanna be an engineer and if I wanna be an engineer then i should probably not waste my time playing games wow that went downhill from benefitting me really quickly. Anyway, I prefer the Redstone side of things (Redstone means wiring and stuff). I build stuff like 5 piston extenders and auto wall builders and calculators and computers (not those stupid computers that use command blocks (just in case you don’t know people, command blocks are like CHEATING THINGS and if I am talking about them i will probably not be happy)) and stuff cause i wanna be an inventor. I also do c++ and make things like search engines, text adventures and cookie clickers! My current BIGGEST project is 600 lines long and I don’t know if that’s a lot but it sure seems like it to me! (when I was typing in the word lines it auto corrected it to ‘lies’) what’s with the whole naming appliances fad going on? (There isn’t really one) like that vacuum named ‘Henry’ that I have. I have the box here and it says on it it can twist the top part which I never knew before! I just woke up but the anticipation of whether this whole Henry twist bit this is true is killing me and I think I might wake up just to see if its true. Nahhhhhhhhhhh! This text is getting so long it’s getting laggy just typing on the same notes on my phone! I gotta start a new one. See you in another life, brother (Desmond in Lost reference). iiitttttttttsssss Johnny! I’m someone mcmann and today we are taking with bee mc wasp. *clapclapclapclapclapapplauseapplauseonelonelymaninthebackscreamsbecausehegotlosthewastryingtogettonemotheclownfishmoviebutnowthereisagiantbeeslashwasprightthereandheisreallyscared* Thank you, thank you! Now, mister Bee, what you do all day long? Well I’ve gotta say Johnny that all i do is spend 14 hours a day eating and then spitting what I just ate into a residential area! Wow, that sound like my great aunt large (i typed in Marge but it auto corrected)! *Laughterlaughterapplause* Then what happens to that SPICY MILK?(Jim Gaffigan) It’s actually not milk, Johnny that regurgitated blob is then stolen from us and eaten by people! well… That’s…. Amazing. *suddenly feels nauseous* Well *blech* it’s time for a *hurl* commercial break. Yes, real breaks! (Every commercial is about breaks)*** (fake Bronx accent) do you like twinkies!?!? Yeaaaaaaaa! Do you like roast turkey! Yeaaaaaaaaa! Then try the all new exclusive limited time only in a store near you… (Anticipation is building up more then the mould in my bathroom) The kit kat turkatwinky! It is beautifully tasty *citation needed* ! Have a break, have a twinkiturkey [its the other way around, I think] …Next Commercial… (Annoying Hawaiian music) do you wanna go on a holiday (more music) then take a trip to (calm music that goes like ‘bowawawoh’) (sudden intense heavy rock) HAWAIYA! You can do great things like… Get eaten by sharks, fall in volcanos and get lost and sea! Buy tickets now for only e = mc^2 easy payments of a=2b +- _|2c -4ab—3c! [(man in background) ummm bob? … Yeap? … (Japanese) Det idit na codect spaech … Oh, we’ll we’re out our air time, sooooooo…] {kshshshshsh} -Next Commercial- has THIS ever happened to you? You are up to your normal everyday antics when… BOOM! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Your crash and BREAK your brand new 2004 ford mustang bike! It’s actually a tooth ow sand ant fore fjord moose tangy (a painful white mouth bone small ground up rock little hill building insect golfing safety viking ravine big deer sour patch kid bike) and didn’t have insurance! Buy some right now for only €1 a month (talks really fast) warning: not actual ‘insurance’, it’s actually ‘inch your ants’ which is a bag of inchworms and ants this company is not responsible for deep regret after purchases*** (clapclapclapclapclapapplauseapplause) Welcome back to AHAGAHAGGGHGHGHGHGGG!!!!!! [(sound over intercom) emergency -emergency! everyone evacuate!! Go go go!!] {you ask someone while running away} what happened!! (Man is panting and very tired (wait… He looks oddly familiar…)) the bee/wasp thing… It is stinging people! 😉 I knew it! It’s my fri end!?!? this whole thing is going down in an infinite spiral of nonsensical blubber! {poof} wow! That was a fun dream! That was my stuff today. Gotta go! I’m back! Someone related to me is making a huge campfire in our mudroom using only a tealight and matches! It’s sparking… And fizzing… And poof! {the room is filled with smoke and out of it walks a tall bearded man} hello there! You must be Bilbo Baggins, reader! Have you come to kill Smaug, the Fire Dragon? Or as Sauron would put it: ???????? (Yes, I speak Japanese, another random surprise DESTINED FOR GREEEEEAAAAATTTTTNEEESSS!) bochebobochebobocheedoooooooox2 CiTy Of StArS! I KNOW YOU’RE SHININNG FOR ME SITTIE UV SHTARS! I know your shinin just fore meyyyyyyy (lalalalalalalalaland won the oscars slash awards stuff and then they didn’t i think in 2017 heheheheheheheheheheheh) ***THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANOUNCMENT: i am not in a very good mood and my writing may be affected *** what’s up with SPRAY CHEESE! Like what the heck! Its like cheese but like in like a can!!! What is wrong with people! What was that person inventor of cheese in a bottle person thnminh! (ummm… Figure it out) he was like what the hey I want cheese but I don’t want cheese that comes in hard form cause then it is weird so if it comes in liquidy form then it seems more like real milk so its less FAKE! *Wheeze* Cheese is a Breeze *achoo!* (if you can’t figure THAT one out then you need to get your flubber out of here! (Flubber is that bouncy stuff in that movie where there is bouncy stuff that attaches to pope’s shoes while they play basketball (not popes, stupid auto-correct (speaking of hard things, that reminds me of the Hardy Boys who were like magicians or something(which reminds me of sailing the DIRTY ISLAND ESPAGNOL!))))) every day I’m shuffling: heyheyheyheyheyhey gangnam style like whop whop whop whop whop whop gangnam sssstttlllyyyeeetllllyypiie! Have you ever heard the song DOWN DD DOWN DD DOWN DD DOWN DOWN DOWN? WELL IT IS A COOL SONG WITH FASCINATING LYRICS HERE IT IS TYPED BY YOUR TOOTHY: To be or not to be That is the question What is nobler in the mind Through the toils of slings and arrows Of great fortune And when i slept i had a dream A dream of great sorrow And i will have that dream At least until tomorrow! UMM… WRONG ONE… HEHEHEH… WELL LET’S TRY AGAIN: Food & Drink: Apple (crunchy) Artichoke (chew before you swallow!) Avocado (replaces banana in cookies) Banana (replaces avocado in guacamole) Beef (burger) Beetroot (gotta good beat) Bun (for burgers) Burger (for buns) Cake (i’m gonna bake a caaake) Cantaloupe (an orange melon) Carrot (an orange banana?) Chicken (don’t be scared!) Dill pickle (not a gherkin) Egg (from a chicken) Eggplant (from a dead chicken turned into dirt by mushrooms) Fig (figrolls) Fish (i wish for a fish to decorate my dish) Grain (good rain) Hot sauce (frank hot sauce) Icecream (not even a real food!) Jam (not from grapes) Kebab (okay, bob) Lemon (sour orbiter (or bitter)) Melon( a green cantaloupe) Mince (beef/pie) Nut (he’s crazy!) Omelette (let me take your ohms which is a currency somewhere) Paska (what the hooey is that) Pasta (makes more sense) PeanutPickle (that sounds disgusting(were those separate?)) Pie (not from grapes) Pineapple (the apple from the pine tree) Pizza (pi*z*z*a) Quiche (pronounced keesh) Radish (doesn’t it look cool dude? it looks rad…ish) Steak (put a wooden stake in a cow to obtain) tictac (the clock goes tick tack tick tack) Turkey (not for MY thanksgiving) Turnip (kinda like a radish) Upsidedowncake (it’s the same as normal cake but upside down) Vinegar (eww) Whiskey (ewww) Wine (ewwww… STOP WINEING!) Yam (popeye says: i yam who i yam) Zucchini (for all the animals who live in the zookeeny) Wow! That was fun! Gotta Go Bro Yo Know! I’m back! If you have honestly made it THIS far, reader then you have just been promoted from ‘some reader’ to ‘stable keeper of the rainbow fluffysheep’. Isn’t that fantamismo? Somedddaaaayyyyydf oooooohhher three rainbowfluffysheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep there is hope! There is life! There are unicorns in the darkness! No more trolls! No more orcs! We are free, free from everything that’s bad! Great is the smorgasbord of a plethora of strawberries! Bootsandcatsandbootsandcatsandbootsandratsandchutesandratsandchutessandratsbandchutessandratsbanned! Yaaaaaaaa! Salut! Je m’appelle francais! French is absurd, French is the word! I don’t even remember typing that! It’s so late a night my eyes are bulging out of my sockets because of the brightness on my phone! Now, I know what your thinking. TURN DOWN THE BRIGHTNESS, KING OF RAINBOWFLUFFYSHEEP! I will tell you why I shall not. Because on an iPhone 3 there is no easy access to get to your brightness. That’s for the WIMP. I’m hardcore. That’s why I Have typed a step by step tutorial on how to change the brightness on an iphone3 for you to read, in the comfort of your own home! (Or wherever your exciting life takes you) 1. Click the button on the top right of the phone to turn it on. 2. Swipe from the left to the right on the bottom of the screen. 3. Type in your password and the phone will unlock to the home screen. 4. Click on the Settings App (Your Almost There!) 5. Click on the ‘Brightness/Wallpaper’ Tab. 6. GOOD JOB! ALL U HAVE TO DO IS SWIPE THE LITTLE BAR THINGY! that’s why I don’t do that. I don’t have THAT much time. I think. Halloo! I’m in London and I’m hangin out! Now I’m back though. This is extremely frightening. Whenever I type words then my phone reads it out to me. Strange.I just turned it off. Good thing too, since every time i heard it i turned around and punched the wall. Not out of fear for my life because of the impending imminent doom, but out of a pure piqued curiosity. Once you obliterate the wall once, every latter time you lose that satisfying crunch. One thing I have aspired to accomplish for a long time now is to make my own pun-themed conspiracy theory. Here goes: in section number 115132219018763992565095597973971522401 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook (i am very proud of that number by the way(*cue all geeks Laughing hysterically*)) STATES that the shearer of greatness (who’s that again?) has proof the the solvence of the illuminati (if you solve something, would it be called an act of solvence?) and forherbyshared proclaimences all right to own half of all southern states who share barbeque preferences (none([southern dialect] it ju bring a tear to ma eye knowin tha the founding fathers fought for freedum, an’ fer unitee. Ye still the states Connor decide on a preferred bar bee q sawse :()) even if he does not want them. And now gentlemen and ladies, I will prove once and for all that the illuminati … Is real. Here goes: So, as everyone knows, the illuminati is represented by the pyramid with an eye in the centre. Do you think that it is merely a COINCIDENCE that the first letter in illuminati is i, and I is pronounced ‘eye’? I THINK NOT! Let’s continue. What is the first thing you think of when you hear the word pyramid? Exactly! The first thing you think of is Egypt? Nooooo!! It’s that they’re big. Duh. So what is the first thing that you would say when seeing a pyramid? “Wow that’s big?” No of course not random audience members indicated by the two line things! You would make the sounds of a mesmerised chimp, like “Oooooh” and “Ahhhhhhh”. And I know how these two things are connected! What temperature would it be in Egypt? Hot, that’s what! So hot that it feels like you are cooking a pan. Ahhhhhhhhhh pan, to be precise! And what county sounds like apan? Japan? Now is it just a COINCIDENCE that that Japanese word for big is ‘Oo’? NOOO!!! These things are all connected, I just don’t fully know how yet. So, we know that the answer has something to do with being big, but what? for these kind of questions, you have to work backwards. I call this method, Reverse Solvency. Anyway, what did the rich (big) people do to the poor (not big) Egyptians around the time that the pyramids were built? Exactly! They sold em’ that sounds like soldier! In French that’s gendarme! Gender! That’s what they are trying to tell us! It’s so obvious, in front of our very EYEs from the beginning! So, what gender is associated with being big! (This is gonna be slightly offensive) Males, obviously! (I’m sorry 😦 *audience member calls out* don’t be sexist! Sorry, but you have to admit, men are usually fatter than women! “Hey, now you’re being sexist to males! We have our rights, you know!!! Chauvinists! Communists! We are great! Who insists? Communists! We will rule with hate!!! ” ummm actually I was saying that men are fatter because back in the time of the PYRAMIDS if you were fat you were considered wealthy. “Now your sexist to us again! Feminists rule! Feminists are great! We are going to rule with hate!!” If you both want to rule with hate , just hate each other equally so this can be over with!!!! Thank you. Anyway, back to the conspiracy) Where were we? Oh yes. Men! What word has men in it? Fishermen, of course! Fishermen caught a lot of fish, and what did the Egyptians have a lot of? Gods! Fishermen used to go slow in boats, so we can remove the g forces, and we a left with ‘od’. And where are the fishermen!?!? In the sea! The ‘c’! And what kind of fish do they catch? That’s right, the ‘Cod’! Now, we use are backwards method to come up with ‘Doc’. As in a doctor! What does a doctor do? Helps people who are sick! But do you know what the worst thing about doctors is? You still have the pay the doctors fee even if you are not sick! And mind you, the doctors fee is quite a large bill, and I wouldn’t want to go to the doctor not even for a bee sting! Alas, This is as far as I have gotten. Can anyone help me? Um yes, you? “Yes, I was just wondering what Big, men , ooo, not bees, Bills , and sickness have to so with the Illuminati! ” wait anonymous audience member say that again! “But like, it was a lot of words” [the writer remembers that he is not allowed to copy and paste, so he skips the dramatic scene where one character says his sentence again while the Maine character says aha! I think I got it!] “got what? The flu?” Who the heck are you? And how did you get backstage? Security?!?! SECURITY!!!!! “yes sir?” What are you guys wearing?! “Obviously we are wearing tiger skins, for camouflage!” Now I don’t even have security to take all the psychopathic people in here, because my security are psychopathic themselves!!! Annnyyywwwaaayyy… I figured it out! Bill, no bee and sick! No bee is actually no ‘B’, the letter! The only b we have is in bill! And if you take it off, what do you get. “ill” . And what is a synonym for ill. Sick. We have gotten pretty far on our journey of solving the question of the illuminati, although we have not quite accomplished the full desired outcome yet. What did all the most important people in egypt do when they were not prosecuting the poor? They were eating, of course! And what were the poor doing in their spare time? What any law-abiding heartwarming lovely citizens would be doing? Playing Sports, of course? And where are the rich buried? In coffins like boxes. When someone dies, hey eyes turn into 24pt roboto thin-line x’s in italics. Huh; box, x. An XBox of course! And what company makes sports for an Xbox? Electronic arts. We’ve all heard of ‘E A Sports. It’s In The Game.’.if the rich are ‘eat’ and the poor are ‘ea’ the only letter not used in both is the letter T! As in tea! A tea is going to come in handy. Even the word eat is just an anagram for tea! It’s all starting to make sense to me now! It’s all fitting together like the pieces of child’s jigsaw! Remember the plagues on Egypt? One of those must be a clue, but which one!? For this, we need to go back to original illuminati ideas, the eye and the triangle. What number do they have in common? 3, of course! A triangle has three sides! If you asked someone to draw a shape and the only hint you have them as to which shape it is was to tell them ‘3’, then chances are they would draw a triangle! It even has three in its name – tri-angle! And how many color cones does an eye have? You guessed it, three. And the third plague is: let’s see here… Gnats. What has a gnat got to do with anything? That information is probably gnat even right (LOLZ)! Anyway, let’s keep going, there must be more to discover yet still. Who was the last pharaoh in Egypt? Cleopatra. She’s so famous, that there have been books and movies made about her! The movies would have been very old, if they were made when she was alive. So old in fact, that they probably used those old cameras with the crank thingy on the side and the reels. Remember the fishermen from before! They connect! The ‘reels’! I think we now have all the information we need to prove that the illuminati is real. Lets see, what do we have: ill, oo, men, a tea, is gnat, reel. What happens if we squish them all together. Illoomenateaisgnatreel. Illoomenatea is gnat reel. Oh. Well, good thing we got that cleared up. Guess what peeps? I have made it to 35000 characters! Why is that so significant, you might ask? Because the world record is 35000 words! That means that all I have to do is replace every letter with a word. Like this: instead of writing ‘I’m back!’ I could say ‘internet mascara beagle Australia catamaran kipper’ and all you do is read the first letter! This would probably make for some nonsensical blubber, as one might say, but at least i’ll beat the record! Also I have another Up-to-standard word idea to get more writing in! Instead of just writing a normal sentence I replace all the words with their respective dictionary definition! Yes, writer, that is a good awesome cool convenient and simple idea! So here goes: ‘jumping cacti ate many jars containing marmalade’ -> ‘any of numerous succulent plants of the family Cactaceae, of warm, arid regions of the New World, having fleshy, leafless, usually spiny stems, and typically having solitary, showy flowers that are leaping or springing over an object the past tense of to take into the mouth and swallow for nourishment constituting or formulating a large number of a broad-mouthed container, usually cylindrical and of glass or earthenware currently holding or including within its volume or area a jelly-like preserve in which small pieces of fruit and fruit rind, as of oranges or lemons, are suspended.’ Wow, that took longer than I expected. Just so I don’t get sued, I am now informing you that those pieces of information were sourced from a well-designed, helpful and informative website currently named dictionary.com. And now, a word from our sponsor. *Kshhhhhhh* Have you ever been sick before? Then this pill is for you! We have a 100% guarantee that you will never get sick again! Warning: the reason you will not get sick is because you will die. Buy soopapill in your local pharmacy for free! That’s right, the low low price of nothing! They’re so cheap, we’re practically giving them away! Also included is a satisfaction guarantee: if you are not satisfied with this product, then there is a full refund money back guarantee. Kshhhhhhh thank you for that lovely message from our sponsor, hooey kablooie. I need a topic. Not just any topic that you find on the floor, but a topic so magnifico, so delisimo, and so interestinio, that I that I fall on the ground in a seizure. I got one! This is a short skit entitled: ninjas: explorers of time and space! *intense music builds* yes sensei! I will punch that piece of wood so hard that it creates a wormhole in the 6th dimension! My apprentice, you have trained hard. There is now a one in one times ten to the million chance that using this wormhole will send us to a earth-like planet that will be habitable for all ninjas in the clan of the ninjapeeps. All hail the ninjapeeps! (You don’t actually have to) who said that?! Who would have the audacity to threaten the ninjapeeps all hail the ninjapeeps in such a way! I did. And you are? The Writer. Nice to meet you, my name is senseinohi, but that’s sensei to you. Howdy pawtna! No, we are actually japanese, not texan. Kong-nae-chae-waw, pawtna! Sensei, don’t respond! Don’t you remember what this man did? No. He was the one who disarmed the hailing of the ninjapeeps all hail the ninja peeps! Oh yes, that’s right. Sorry dude, but PREPARE TO BE THROWN INTO THE SIXTH DIMENSION, YOU DIRTY RASCAL! The sensei grabbed his handheld torpedo launcher and shot it at The Writer. It hit him and pushed him into the board! Do it! The Apprentice hit the board with all his might, and it broke apart. Not how you would think though, it actually compressed into a wormhole, shifting the spacetime fabric around it! (Now I know what you’re thinking, reader. Don’t ‘They’ always say to make a story believable!? And to that I say… but it is. You see, if you are a small minded gherkin (hey! You! No insults or we’re going to have to stop this little ‘play’ of yours!) ok… whatever. You probably believe that when you push something, the far side of it moves instantly, right? WELL YOU’D BE WRONG! Actually, the opposite side of the object moves in the same time it would take for sound to travel from you to it. Here’s an example: there is a lightning bolt with a hand far away from you. When it strikes the ground, it pushes a meal pole towards you, so one end is in its hand while the other is in yours. You will get pushed back at the exact time you hear to thunder! Isn’t that fabulous? That means that if the ninja punches faster than the speed of sound (a lot faster though) then he will be able to compress the board into a space time warping black hole) The Writer is plunged into the endless oblivion of the cascading incomprehension that is the sixth dimension. Little did the ninja peeps all hail the ninja peeps know, when you are in the sixth dimension, you can teleport right inside people and objects! (It actually depends on what kind of sixth dimension you are in. If you are in a four axes two time dimension, as in this skit, you can moves backwards and forwards in time and change the outcome of time, yet not travel directly to any possible outcome which you may have formed in the past. Also, with another axes under your belt, you can essentially disappear and reappear at will, yet with a time delay, which is nulled due to your cacophony of dimensions, specifically time.) so what The Writer did next was simple! He simply went back in time, and landed inside the sensei, causing him to not be thrown into the wormhole, causing him not to land in the sensei… This is making less sense as we go. In the end, the universe gets confused, and tells us a message: universe.exe has stopped responding. Noooooooooooooooo — Yep. And that is what I do with my life essentially. Gotta go now sea ya! I’m back! With a conspiracy that will blow your minds/mind if you are human! Zooreka is the easiest game to play if you have the slightest bit of mathematical knowledge! When choosing what to roll for, it is sooooo obvious which on the choose using basic knowledge. I’m not going to tell you, because next time you play it you will figure it out (if you even HAVE zooreka). Now that I think About it, that wasn’t really a conspiracy, was it :(. I have a reward for you reader. If you have truly made it this far than… Give me your email and I will send you the answer to the zooreka challenge, free of charge! Send an email to rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com, inquiring. Also, you can ask me any other important questions you might have! In section 18w08b of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it CLEARLY STATES that the king of oddly colored farm animals (that’s me!) will reply to ANY email set to the inbox of rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com to the best of his ability (not including spam tho). Hey! I just realised that when I wrote the word color, it get a red squiggle underneath! What a sham! ShamWOW! In section 18o25g02i22 it states that anyone, not only the king of the oddly colored farm animals, is allowed to spell color without a u! Hurrah! Hurrah! Three cheers for the rainbow fluffysheep handbook! (But that was only two, Harold. Whatever.) and that, ladies and gentlemen, was the way Color was born. THE END. I’m back! And do I have an exciting subject for you! No! I don’t! Ha, gotcha there, didn’t I! Wow, it just started raining. Oh wait, it’s snow! Not just any snow, mind you, but it’s topicsnow! Yay! All these great topics falling softly from the sky. What could be better. I’m now walking down the street. Hey you! Ye? Is that a topicman? Yes sir, tis! Well ain’t that great. If want to get the best topics, I must climb mt.Big. Hey look, there’s some kids having a topicball fight! How fun. Noooooo! A topicalanche! (That doesn’t even make sense!!! The word avalanche doesn’t even have the world snow in it! ) Since I died, i didn’t get any topics. Sooooooo yea. *cue awkward elevator music* ding do do ding dong ding do do ding dong. *taps his foot* *hums 90’s pop song* grabs chainsaw from behind his ear and cuts the elevator cord, plunging the box of awkwardness in to the darkness of forgetfulness and loss of meaning. Forget… Forget……….. You drift into a deep dreamless sleep, waking up to an elevator of twisted metal wreckage resembling a dead animal carcasses. Beside is the corpse of… of… an onion?!?! Wow, who knew onions could be so awkward :o. I just read what I wrote and it makes less sense than I thought. Little did you guys know, that today you would get a great piece of text to read. I didn’t even know that. You know that guy from shamWOW! He always said all these great things about that weird sponge? Yea, that was a short topic. Im gone. Im back! Wait, how did i type if i was gone? With my mmmiiiinnnnddddd… woooooooo creeeeeeeepy! Anyway, this is what i was thinking. I feel really sorry for water molecules! All they do all their lives is slowly get raised up slowly until they land in a cloud with their friends! Wahoo! Or, so you think. In reality, at any moment they could fall to their impending doom! They drop thousands of meters to the ground, only now realizing that they are miles from home!! They take the nearest river trying to get home, before repeating the cycle! They teach us this horror story in kindergarten, masking the brutal morbidity of it by articulating the conundrum using macroscopic convoluted words! Like ‘evaporation’, more like flying up to the sky knowing that it’s your final moment – ation! Condensation!?!? More like con – ned by your kindergarten teacher inti thinking that this means water gently floating to the surface of the earth, when it really means death by lack of parachute! How could you be so – dense – ation! (Public service announcement: this is an anonymous relative spakin’: *where is he? Dunno.* this was test, and only a test. Had this been a real public service announcement then i would have – not been here! Harharhar ! Stop making fun of harold! He was only late for that one clock commercial and now you guy just have to – its OK bob, i don’t care about the Larry squad. They don’t bother me no longer. KK harold….. umm… this was a te – wait, did we already do that part? Uh, ya i think so…. so this is awkward. Ya, sooooooo – *in the echoey distance* cut to the commercial break! What the heck do i pay you for? To… get… you… coffee, sir. Oh, you the coffee boy? Why the hack did my coffee not have any cream in it yesterday!? I almost burnt my mouth into non-existence! I was told not to put in in, sir. By who? Lets just say i got a… Higher Calling. You… you m-m-mean that The Boss called? Yes, budget cuts he said. No more cream he said. No more name-brand cereal! Nooooo if my cereal is packed in a bag i swear on my neighbors cousins dogs bone that i will take every cereal bag, pour out all the cereal, and put them into the boxes that i saved from the name brand cereal!!! Is this… you… you wouldn’t. Oh, try me. Yea, now that i think about it you probably would do that. Why was i here again? Oh ya… CUT TO A COMMERCIAL ALREADY! We don’t have any commercials sir, we got voted unanimously by popular vote not to have any commercials. Well obviously the public didn’t want… didn’t… di- it all makes sense now! The budget cut is BECAUSE of us not playing enough commercials! But sir, our quota ends tomorrow! We need to have played 50837 commercials! There is. Only. One. Way. Play all the commercials at 100x speed! Is that even LeGaL?! Of course it is! We might have to have an epilepsy warning at the start though. Don’t people get epilepsy from watching fast images? This is a radio station, so people can just hear it! Ummm… this is an earlepsy warning! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHhahahahhahha hehe he… heh. That wasn’t funny, steven.) And back to our regular program. I just started a sentence with a preposition! Isn’t that, like, seven years bad luck or something? Well I can solve that. Section 1 of the Rainbow Fluffysheep handbook says that the king of oddly colored (not coloured like some LOSERS would write) farm animals has full veto to start any sentence with a preponderance. (What the hooey is a preponderance? It says here that it means to be greater than something. Well, the king of oddly colored is full of preponderance towards everyone else! Mwahahaahaha!) Now i can start with a preposition too. Well that worked. (The reason that I used the number 1 is because it has become forgotten among numbers. You see, 1 isn’t considered a prime number! Like what the hey! Its only factors are one and itself!) Do you think that when a particle is beckoned into existence, it uses one of those slot machines with the big arm? And the 777 of the particle world is getting… Hmmmm. I actually have now idea. Maybe just hydrogen! Hydrogen is pretty sweet for blowing people up. But then when your becoming a particle, you have to use it and see what you get. A typical particle would be at one. Here is an example: *cue southern accent* sweat was rolling down my face like the Rolling Stones. I can’t believe it has come to this. I force my hand over to the lever on the side of the machine, which appeared to be taunting me. It’s lights and horror movie little-kid-singing-or-jack–in–the–box (the reason i did that is because I was putting a space between every word, AND jack-in-the-box already has them too) seemed to violently clash against the darkness and dread of the outside world. I clenched the red metal ball with all my might. It was cold as Alaskan ice on a early winter morning, and its color was the blood of the many particles who had to go through with this also. I jerked my limb backwards, causing the huge metal pole to turn on a skewed axis. It came to a stop after turning a quarter of the way with a hard crack, like the crack of a whip. I refocused my attention to the screen. The cylinders were rolling faster than A grands prix racers tyre. Suddenly, the first one came to an abrupt halt. I stared at it, but struggled to read the letter because of my complete shock. H. It said H. I should have been happy, I know, but I wasn’t completely out of the woods yet. There was a tiny times two symbol beside it. I didn’t care. I pulled the arm again, not knowing what life-changing, devastating thing was to come. It spinning thing that doesn’t have a name stopped. O. No. It was the letter O! Now I too will have to live this tortuous fate! Do you think that water parties breathe? Because then, when they did, they would just be hydrogen for a very short amount of time. ENOUGH WITH THE WATER PARTICLES!! I have a conspiracy theory! You know those spinny poles that barbers have? Of course you do! They are probably used to hypnotise people into getting their hair cut there! #subSPINinalmessagesfromcruelbarbers. There is a haircut called “meet me at McDonald’s” that is BANNED where I live. goodbye. and remember… barbers are eevviill! I’m back! Did you know that palm trees aren’t actually trees? Yea, that’s right, palm TREES!!! I think that they’re bushes or something. That makes me angry! in section 6.02214129×10^23 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that trees are trees.. no matter how small (Horton hears a who). On a completely unrelated note, there was this old man who painted a baseball like infinite times so now it’s like the size of a truck. I was listening to this amazing radio station and this is ACTUALLY what it was about. I will try to rein-act it as accurately as possible. “Recently, a Russian double-agent was poisoned in England. Also, there was a man who had ten million euros, which he gambled until he got nine million of it back. he was so mad that he didn’t get it all, that he robbed his employers to get the money back. now he is a counsellor for people struggling with a gambling addiction. he’s a great lad, he is, he’s had a great life. By the way, its my mother in laws 100th birthday today! Go over to her house and say hello! I have her post code written on the back of my phone. Also, there was a man who invented the windup radio and the shoe phone charger who died this week.” I know what you’re thinking: there’s no way this actually happened, right? YES THIS WAS REAL! And I thought it was pretty funny hehehe. I need write all o the funny things that happen in my life in here. So today I was in the library, minding my own business, when I noticed someone was drawing cartoons and there were a whole bunch of little kids surrounding him (I’m guessing from ages 2-5). Classic movie plot device that never happens in real life, so I was already skeptical. He was drawing a zombie. “And now you see, the zombies chin is like a chimpanzees bubblecopter asparagus. (Wait what? Lets try this again) And now you see, the zombies chinos like a… Well… A line.””why does the zombie look like its from the Simpsons?””because real zombies are too scary for you kids. That’s why I’m not drawing the ones from the walking dead, for example.””I’ve seen that movie!””yeah me too!!””umm.. Ok, how many of you guys have seen the walking dead?”*everyone puts their hand up* the only reason I thought that story was funny is because that kind of thing only happens in movies. What’s up with the saying, ‘easy as pie’? Like what the hooey! Pie is really hard to make. The pie crust always ends up being soggy.’piece of cake’ is a saying too! What’s with all these people that think baking is easy! (Now that I think about it, this is a weird thing to be mad about). Maybe I just need to calm down. NOOOO!!! In section 888 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that the king of oddly colored farm animal (that’s me!) hereby declares that the sayings ‘easy as pie’ and ‘piece of cake’ are now changed to ‘easy as bread’ and ‘piece of bread’. I just realised that I was typing with my phone in portrait mode! Now I turned it into landscape and I feel so freeeeeee!!! I need to come up with other things that I do randomly… Like the rainbow fluffysheep hanbooks challenge booklet subset! If I am talking about some random subject, I will now randomly put a challenge for you, the reader (which probably doesn’t exist) to do! Piece of bread! In section 7 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset it STATES that your challenge is: get anyone you know to say piece of bread instead of piece of cake! (They probably won’t do it unless you tell them the reason (or you have really good friends)) i have to shorten the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset so that I don’t have to write the rainbow fluffysheep handbooks challenge booklet subset all of the time. From now on, it is considered TRFSHCBS. I probably news to add vowels to pronounce it. And take out ‘the’. RAFLUSHEHACHABOOS. Pronounced ra-fluh-shee-ha-cha-boo-s. that’ll work. I need to write more to fill my writer quota. That just sounded cool to say. I probably write about… 100 words a day. Well I started today at the zombie thing, so yea. What’s going to be the next big thing in the future? Technically, I’m writing this in the past, so you guys can email me at rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com and tell me what the future’s like! The only problem is that I will only receive it in the future. Another one of my BRILLIANT ideas gone down the tubes. Goodbye. The world is unjust! I worked for hours on end, making an app for a coding competition. And then they announced… We made it to the country finals! The COUNTRY! By that time, my app had over 5,000 downloads! It was amazing. But we came in second. Guess what the prize was for second?!?! TAKE A WILD GUESS!!!! NOTHING! This wouldn’t have been so bad, but at the competition they were giving away free stuff. And GUESS WHO GOT SAID FREE STUFF?!?! MY BROTHER, THAT’S WHO!!! So in the end, after spending half the year doing a competition, my brother, who did absolutely nothing, got more out of it then me. The world is unjust! Unfair! Prejudiced! Biased! Fascist! (Wait, that was autocorrected). I just needed to get my anger out. When I wrote autocorrected, it autocorrected it to autocorrect ex! That’s the last time i buy an apple product. How many devices companies are fruit? There’s apple obviously, and blackberry, and pear (I’ve seen pear shops in cities) and raspberries (as in the greatest computer of all time, raspberry pi). That could be the most expensive fruit salad ever! What would you like to order, moisuer? I’ll have the fruit salad. Oui, oui. Harold! That costs $5k! So? I bet it’s good! KSHHH and here’s how the skit would have went if I had autocorrect on. Why would you like to order, moisture? You guys have moisture in this restaurant? that’s not up to the code for restaurants. i’ll have to tell the building inspector! Oh yes, anyway, I’ll have the fruit salad. Out, out! Runnnn! I’m coming Harold! That waiter must have something about fruit salad! Maybe he had a bad experience as a child. Wow, I sure went off on a tangent. Do you think that it would be cool if apple made all their devices different fruit names! The iPad pro could be the watermelon, cause its so big. And the iPhone nano could be the strawberry (other berry names are trademarked) what else? A phone with a lot of space could be the peach, because the pit is like the hard-drive! (That was a bit far fetched) and the MacBook could be an orange because when you open it it it cut in the inside… Cuz laptops are like two parts… You know? (and if you cut a grape in half and put it in the microwave it will make plasma (just thought you’d like to know that)) Earbuds could be cherries because they always have the two cherries which are like the ear things! And they’d call the charger ‘The Root’. Why a great idea! I will let apple use these names and I only need a 0.00000000000001% share In the company. Even though I did work hard at this. I just thought of something amazing! If you are in a shop and you see a jar of nondescript sauces (mayacamole) and it costs two bucks. TWO BUCKS!!! You know for a FACT that the shop just across town sells them for one-fifty. The shop is five minutes away. If you choose to go to the shop, then you my friend are working for minimum wage! (Except in the case that you have to walk back. If so, just buy the mayacamole at the former option( or just get salsa. It’s on sale! (Which probably means that its old))) wasn’t that interesting? Here’s another situation. You are buying a $400,000 home (average price right now I’d say) and you think “what a steal!” And your neighbour thinks “where did i put that shotgun cartridge again? But is you think about it you are working for 1,667 weeks to pay for that! (Assuming 8 hours a day, five days a week at minimum wage) That’s 32 YEARS! Let’s say you work for 12 hours a day, seven days a week for $20 an hour, that’s still 238 weeks! That’s still five years! Just buy a camper van for goodness sake! I just got to thinking; how many tiny changes would a cereal company have to make to earn twice as much from a box of cereal? (Assuming people still bought the same amount ( I think I can trust the general population)) it turns out that if we want to double the profits by decreasing things by ten percent, we would have to do it seven times. Which means instead of selling these cornflakes: Box height: 1 meter; Box length: 1 meter; Box width: 1 meter; Percent of cornflake that is cornflake ( not air): 100%; Percent of box filled with bag: 100%; Percent of bag filled with cornflakes: 100%; Production cost: 10 cents; they could sell these: Box height, width & length: 0.9 meters; Percent of cornflake that is cornflake ( not air): 90%; Percent of box filled with bag: 90%; Percent of bag filled with cornflakes: 90%; Production cost: 9 cents; they would make double the profits! Hooray! Well that’s that. You know how people always have weird names on the interweb? Well I came up with Internet name generator! (Random adjective)(Random noun)(Use a deck of cards for this part. Take out the jokers and face cards, and tens are now zeros. Pick out numbers until you get a club) additional things include: (pick a card. If it is three or lower, put X at the start and end)(pick a card. If it is an ace, replace noun with random country. If it is a two, replace noun with Internet related company + fan.) let me try this. Here is what I got: FoulSoup31, XxInternalAle10xX, StrengthenedFillet49458, MediocreElectrode20, and EpicRedditFan7515. That was a lot more accurate than I thought it would be. Bye. Hello! I need to rant more! I am going to start a sentence without knowing where it is leading. I wish I could buy a mocha for my clown pants while aliens eat your toes which glisten in the sliver of wind. That was fun. Why is orange so popular? There are SO MANY WORDS that don’t rhyme with other words too, like engine, silver and angry (hangry isn’t a real word as far as I know). And people know that orange rhymes with “door hinge”! Some people say that doesn’t count. But there is another! Sporangia! Well, it’s pretty close. I think it’s like fern spores. Well remember, whenever you see the color orange, type #boycottorange, so people stop taking pictures of orange things. For Halloween, people will carve watermelons instead of pumpkins. Trump will no longer be president because of his orange skin. Oranges (the fruit) will be replaced by reds! (The soon to be fruit). The sun will disappear, or if we want to not go extinct, just change its color to blue. I have a map of Europe on my wall, which has the countries in different colors. BEWARE IF YOU LIVE IN: The UK, Spain, Hungary, Latvia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Greece, Denmark and Armenia. You guys will soon disappear off the face of the earth. And my favourite pop is club orange! Nooooo! And Jupiter will disappear too! Now that I think about it, losing orange things wouldn’t be that bad compared to other colors. Like blue. We would lose water, blue paint, the second book in the Rust comic book series, the sky, Pluto and that one triple angry bird. That would be awful. In section 255 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it STATES that the king of oddly colors farm animals (me again) will never make all blue things disappear, but he may make all orange things disappear. Now you guys don’t have to worry! :)! Why are kings higher than queens in a deck of cards? That’s really sexist! People think that king is worth thirteen and queens are worth twelve! (If you can’t tell, I’m mocking that people that get offended by everything). Why do vegetarians worry about hurting animals, but not plants!?!? Plants have feelings too (I think)! In fact, vegetarians kill MORE than carnivores. Instead of a whole family eating a chicken, if they are all vegetarians, then they will probably kill hundreds of plants! Think about THAT, people! In this whole LoTeEv, I have probably offended a lot of you guys. Sorry bout that. In section 1029384756 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that if the mug of oddly colored farm animals (me again) offends any reader, he is sincerely sorry *citation not needed because of section 12345679 of the RFSH*. Why are the money symbols not consistent? Like there’s €uros, ¥en and £ounds. But why $ollars? Maybe it’s supposed to be dollar$. That makes more sense. Now I won’t get that nervous eye twitch every time I see that symbol. “Hey look, I just found this ten dollar bill on the ground! Hey why the flop is he doing that?” “It’s just… a Thing that he does…” “Oh.” “I have a great idea for this! Whenever he gets near money his eye twitches! That means we can find money on the ground just by watching him!” And that’s how I lost all my friends. It turns out that was the only reason they liked me. Wait what is this ?? That is so ?eird. Goodbye. I’m back! Hahahaha gotcha! I was just kidding about that. But you would have never known that! I’m going to try to make words using only the top row of letters. Hmmmm… Lets see. Tip, rip, port, type, write, writer, typewriter. Fascinating. I’m going to make a fake movie trailer. Using only words. Here we go: [Have you ever…]{scene of old woman churning milk}[wanted to…]{scene of older woman churning what is now cream(the reason she is older is not because it is a different person, but because we filmed it after}[churn your own butter?!?!]{scene of even older woman churning what is now butter (the reason she is even older is because we got a new actor because the other one retired (she used to put tires on her vehicle, and now she does it again))}[This is a great movie, if you are an IDIOT][“this is a great movie”][i had popcorn while I watched this movie, and I really enjoyed it, it soothed the pain of having to watch that movie][“I really enjoyed it, it really soothed”][i actually really enjoyed the movie!][wait… What? You know we’re not paying you guys right? Oh. Anyway, “I actually really enjoyed the movie!”][while being on an oil rig?!?!]{well… No, but anyway (shows a picture of an old woman churning butter which is thick and black and worth a lot more than butter)}[Coming soon to you][this summer][and fall][and winter as well][lets just add spring too][The Lard of the Rigs] That was actually fun! {Warning: if you use this movie name you will BE SUED actually now that I think about it you probably won’t. In fact, if you DO actually make this into a movie, send it to me} Do you guys think I’m random enough? I really hope so! In section 5647382910 of the RAFLUSHE – I can’t remember. That challengey things name. But anyway, make that movie. Plz. I’m board. And not just any old barn-wood planks, mind you, but a board of fine stained oak as the flooring in the White House. By!!! I’m back! No, just kidding, I’m front! I have a topic that I’m actually very serious about. Puzzles. Am I the only one that thinks that puzzles are the most useless thing in the world?!?! That’s like the PROOF that the human race have made it too far. When we actually make challenges that we have to face OURSELVES, AND WE PAY FOR THEM! We are literally paying to give ourselves problems! We have enough problems! Well at least I do ;). Probprobprobprobleeeeeemsomomo! I’m going to type something about politics to sound super cool. As you know, recently president Obama (That was like years ago) oh… Sozsozsoz. As you know, recently president Nixon (no, that’s not exactly right) Oh yea, I forgot. As you know, recently president Lincoln (ARGH! We are not doing this anymore) was a president before Donald (finally) Duck! (Nooooo! It’s TRUMP) What? No! You think you’re SOOO smart person who talks in the brackets. Actually, trump is a businessman in that show where he says YOU’RE FIRED!!! What, you probably also think that a bodybuilder actor that says “GEAT TOUW THAE CHAEOPPAER” is a governor too!?! Hahahaha… Donald Duck was a great president. His slogan was “I will fight for american democrats” and he bathes in gold. What a great job. Money is so dirty though! Now that I think about it, he probably gets the money wholesale from the mint. Or else, how could he afford it?! I have a new segment in my text now! It’s called the “Random Fun Fact” segment! (Now that I think about it, I never know when to use those “. I think it’s “” when someone is talking and ” for saying something sarcastically or shortening a word. For example: “Hello there Chuckie! How’ya doing ‘nice guy’. Were you being sarcastic? Yes, but how could you see the little apostrophes when I’m talking to you?… Science.” And that’s how they work) where was I? Random fax! I will send all of my readers a fax with has facts on in! How brilliant! The facts of the paragraph are… Ice cream was invented in china, something that is ‘blue’ (got it right there!) Is actually every color BUT blue, and I like cheese. And the country of the paragraph is… Mexico! Why not, right? Did you ever wonder how records work? (Just in case you don’t know, a record is a thingy where you put a round black thing on a majig and it puts a sharp whatchamacallit on that and funny rhythmic sound emerge and tickle your ear holes) I know how they WORK, with ridges and diaphragms and blah Blah BLah BLAh BLAH… But how do they WORK?!?! Like who was sitting there in their layzboy having diet Pepsi (or popsee to avoid copyright infringement (and that’s when I checked my forehead, and sure enough, there was a mint there)) And then they realise… Hey! Bumpy things can make sounds! I just can’t get my head around it (clockwise is my preference). Do you ever wonder what the worst collections are in the world? I currently collect words, pins and the “to kill a mockingbird” series (not much work ( besides the fact that I have to give them (it) back to the library by tomorrow morning ( the last time I will ever bring a library book late again is when I borrowed the book entitled ‘How to sharpen a pencil for dummies’ (Don’t blame me! It was the ‘Extended and revised’ edition! They had all the technical ‘lead vs. graphite’ stuff added.) an they called out my name over the loudspeaker telling me to return the book immediately or I would be fired (yes, I worked at the library (I never could figure out the Dewey decimal system)). Now that I think about it, they never said what book to bring, they just said my name. Oh no, I never handed in the ‘how to sharpen a pen for dummies’ book! (Which I rate a 3/5, “would not borrow again” because of its poor layout and overall structure (although the information was altogether helpful)) what collections do YOU have reader? Find out next time on “deer or no deer!” (Remember forehead sweets) oh no! I wrote how to kill a mocking bird! I meant ‘pow do gill hamma (hammer) king turd’. Phew. Got outta that one. I have a new topic! A high-quality, name-brand, box-not-bag topic! I figured out a great business plan! Make onsies! Not just out of clothes, but out of everything! Like: Did you eat two bowls of granola this morning? Well ONSIE! [poured granola into one bowl, causing it to be crushed under its own weight] do you have two hands? Well ONSIE! [handshakes himself] Do you have twins? Well ONSIE! [wait… How is this supposed to work?] Get yours now at your local Amazon (which might not be very accessible if you don’t live in South America) for a free trial! *happy tune* Onsie, Onesie! Life is better with a onsie. Spin a web, less than two. ONSIE! (I think that was to the tune of Spider-Man (I mean Smiter-Can) Onsies only cost… Whatever you want them to cost! Yeah, I think i’m going to go now. Baiii! Wait.. What? When did i wrote that ONSIE thing?? I just came back and I do not remember doing that. What the hat does ‘Spin a web, less than two” even mean? That is some weird stuff. So today I listened to that radio station again, and it was totally worth it. He was talking about these married people in Germany that are going to a Walking Dead convention for their 17th anniversary. Weird. Weird, weird, WEIRD!!! You know guitar tuna? Probably not. It is an app where you tune your guitar (obviously). I thought of how they could make so much more money! If they had bass tuna, electric guitar tuna, acoustic guitar tuna. BUT THEY WOULD ALL BE THE SAME THING!!! They would make so much money! Wait. What about canned tuna! (Also, if they thought in that way, then bass tuna would be extremely perplexing because they are both fish). Well, that’s my stuff for today! Hallo! I’m back! And I don’t get house decorations nowadays. People put old stuff in their house, and they think it makes it look amazing! People always talk about that ‘Vintage Look’ which is just putting old stuff that people fifty years ago would have said “why do you have a *fill in the blank with an old thing* in your HOUSE?!?!” In their house. I should rant. Like what I’m doing now. I’m just talking about random things just like the flaming chicken person does just to fill up space on the page. I should also write long words like pnumonoultramicrkscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis and disestablishmentarianism . Actually, since it only matters for words count, I should just type really small words. Hi, my name is jo. (Its not actually, but I need to type small words). I eat a lot of pie and I love it too. It is yum in my tum. Wow that was probably really boring to read (and to write). Hello there, reader! I’ve just decided that I want to talk to you. I always seem to do all of the talking, but maybe I should give you a chance! *really really long drawn out super weird and uneventful awkward silence*. Oh I see what’s happening. Either you can’t talk to me because you are in the future and I’m in the past, causing us to not be able to communicate due to the sad reality that is the third dimension, or… Your trying to talk to me on a walkie-talkie! I could never figure out those things either. They’re so confusing. Lets see… Oh, there it is! The ‘walkie-talkie almanac: a complete collection of all the knowledge YOU will need to acquire (did you know acquire is also a board game? If you are ever playing, always buy America, and then buy quantum stocks (well it worked that one time I played (are you saying that games are DIFFERENT every time you play them!?!? (That’s the last time I mesmerise fifty-three rounds of go fish))) to use your very own… WALKIE-TALKIE! (well what else would the walkie-talkie almanac be about!?!?) lets see… Contents… It says the contents page is on page 1… Wait – WHAT?!?! The contents page has a line for the contents page! That’s like a website having a link to itself! (Which is not a bad idea for my own website to get a lot of views (like I could a a tab on my website called “the best sites on the web! And I would have links to places like YouTube and twitter (or whatever you young’uns go to these days! When I was a lad I used to play ‘Pokémon Pearl’ and ‘Facebook’ now you kids are all on her newfangled ‘Pokémon Go get outta here’ and yer ‘SnapperChatters’ (i bet if you are reading this in ten years you won’t know that I was talking about Pokemon go and snapchat (or how I got from talking to you to young ones (btw: if you are reading this in 2028 or beyond: welcome to the distant past! (Now that in think about it, I started reading the longest text ever by ‘Sam’ (real readers will know who that is) when it was about ten years too! And I don get the references to stuff like ‘neopets’ and ‘The Matrix’))))))) Okay where is it… Oh there; it says that the ‘pretty much how to use it’ section is on page -3! Well thats eas- how do I go to page -3! Lets see… Oh look! They have a ‘how to go to negative pages section too! It’s on page -7. Noooo!! I guess I’ll just look it up on the Internet. Ok first you have to turn the book into antimatter… Ok got that done… Now just turn to the page without the negative! Well that was easy. I’m on page 7 now. It says all you have to do is convert the book into an antimatter form and- hey this sounds familiar! I’ll go to page three now. It says here, and I quote: “to use the walkie talkie, hold in that little button on the side o the walkie talkie”. Did you that reader! Can you try talking to me now? Oh yes! I can hear you! Oh wait, I’m on the wrong station. I’m on number five, but your on number six. I have to click a button to change my station number! Too much work. Do you think I’m crazy because I talk to myself? I’m not! Yes you are. I am not! Isn’t talking to yourself the DEFINITION of crazy? I’m not talking to myself. The who do you think I am? Oh yea. I’m your imaginary friend, RatGuy! Don’t you remember me! No. Oh *sniffle* well *odd breathing patterns* we *tear emerging from eyeball* used *pure weeping* to- I CAN’T TALK TO YOU WHEN YOUR CRYING BECAUSE YOU KEEP INTERRUPTING YOURSELF! Technically, since you’re talking to yourself your also interrupting your self. I guess I am. Continue, RatGuy. As I was saying: we used to skate around on a skateboard together. We would have so much fun doing tricks that other kids could have only DREAMED of, like the ‘ground ollie’ and the ‘down-the-curb’. We moved at speeds that the other kids couldn’t even begin to imagine. 90% the speed of light. But RatGuy? Yes? If sewers moving at 90%!• the speed of light, would the air compression deflecting us not cause us do develop into an expanding plasma fireball. This is a story, Writer. Stories don’t have to ‘work’. I NEED TO STOP!!! I keep writing all this nonsensical blubber and I can’t stop. Are you, the reader not so confused and uncomprehensive of what I’ve just been typing to the last hour!?!? Oh wait, you can’t tell me if you were or not, your walkie-talkie isn’t on the same channel as mine. I just realised something. I work hard to you guys trying to give you quality topics and extra-special rants. And how do people repay me? By writing more than me!!! I spend all day thinking about things that i want to put into this, and then I type it all up! And then I see that people want quantity, not quality! But no! You loyal readers will have to deal with me not writing 500 words a day, because I’m thinking of things and stuff. I was just thinking, I need complain about my life more. That’s what all the people are doing nowadays. “Oh, my life is so hard, I just broke a fingernail!” BIG DEAL! “Oh, my life is hard too, i just broke a finger” BUG REAL! ” oh my life is mildy uncomfortable and difficult, I broke all of my fingers, toes, limbs, necks, mothers vases, favourite Guinness book of world records records, my most-used language rules, that kinda stuff. Just in case you didn’t realise, I’m an introvert. So I have lots of problems with… People. And my guess is that you do too! So here are some crucial situations for you to read and laugh at me because you know I can’t hear you! 1: You know when your talking to someone and you can’t figure out what part of their face to look at? Is it their eyes, or their nose, or their mouth? So then you kinda unfocus your eyes and stare in the middle of their face, like your looking right through them? And then they finished talking and you have no idea what they just said? CUZ THAT HAPPENS TO ME ALL THE TIME! 2: when your talking to someone and they are saying important stuff, but instead of listening to what they’re saying your just saying yes whenever they stop talking for a little bit? 3: when you are going into a building and there are people behind you, and you can’t figure out if you should hold the door open for them or not? If you don’t and they’re too close, It will probably hit him/her in the face but if you do and they’re to far, its really awkward because you are just standing there for a really long time. Have any of these things happened to you? Leave your answer in the comment section below! (There actually isn’t one, I can’t figure that much out). Hedgehogs must find it really hard to have birthdays! If they have lots of balloons everywhere, they probably pop them; the police come because they think that its gunshots, and there goes all the hedgehogs friends. I’m sure glad I’m now a hedgehog! In section 333 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook it says that free pop-proof balloons will be sent to any hedgehogs in need. Well goodbye, I’m off to slay a fantastic fedora fanatic! But before I go, I have to ask one thing. Did you really make it this far? Because if you have, the you have been promoted from herder of the rainbow fluffysheep to shearer of the rainbow fluffysheep. It’s a title only few in the world have. Did you know I also make comics? Probably not, because I haven’t posted any yet! Well stay tuned for them someday. What’s up with everyone wanting to deep fry things? Deep fried mars bars, deep fries cool aid! Well I’ve come up with a new food type! ‘Shallow fried’ available at all good pharmancy checkout lines beside the mayacamole and the taco sauce. (That sounds really good!(jut i case you didn’t know, mayacamole is mayo and guacamole combined. Doesn’t that sound MAGICALLY DELICIOUS!!!( I think it does))) shallow fried stuff has half the fat, uses half the ‘deep fry juice’ (whatever they put in there) and has have the flavour! For twice the price! Even though we never had an original price. Whatever. Do you know what’s the worst? Trying to buy computer – related things in charity shops. I was at value village, and I saw a USB. It was 64 gigabytes! That’s pretty good (I bet if your are reading this in the distant future than you think that a 64 gigabyte USB is awful. Well it isn’t in this day and age) I thought, so I went to buy it. It’s only two bucks! Wow, what a steal. I looked closer at it and that’s when I realised. It said 64 MEGABYTES!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW LITTLE THAT IS! if you are from the distant future than you are probably thing ‘that’s like nothing’ and you’d be right. It can only store like 60 million letters! That’s only 15 million words! That’s only a million sentences! That’s only 200,000 paragraphs! That’s only 20,000 chapters! That’s only 1,000 Books! That’s only 250 quadrilogies! Now that I think about it, 250 quadrilogies isn’t that bad. If you couldn’t tell, I used a method called Fermi Estimation, though a little more precise. In Fermi Estimation, you can be off by 100x in either direction and it doesn’t really matter. According to Fermi Estimation, this is me. Age: 10 Number of eyes: 1 Social Security Number: 1000000 PIN code: 1000 number of limbs: 1 people in my family: 1 (forever alone). That’s why I like Fermi Estimation. I actually didn’t tell you why I like it. Oh well. Where I live, they use blackcurrant in everything. It’s pretty much a replacement for grape. But am I the only one who thinks that grape flavoured things taste way better? Whenever I get something blackcurrant flavoured I offer it someone, because they usually like it (and I hate it). Works well for me!! I was just thinking about tides. Way back in the day, wouldn’t tides make no sense? The sea would just get higher and lower and there was no reasoning behind it. Maybe that’s why they thought sea monsters existed. No what I think about it though, the moon pulling on the water is kinda even crazier than that. And now for a commercial break. Kshhhhhh – Tacos…… I LOVE EM! And you can to for only ten easy payments of ten bucks! (That’s deer by the way) tacos can make you feel fuzzy in the inside. That’s because of the mould that comes FREE with every purchase! And there’s no artificial additives either! (We did that by adding so many additives that instead of adding it to the taco, we were technically adding the taco to the additives). What are you waiting for! I’m waiting for this commercial to end so I can get paid! Call now at 1800-GOT-PUNK to order a taco from Teddys Tacos (or would it be Teddies) and you will get a free rent-a-friend with your purchase! But there’s more! Order now and get a free Ferrari too! Oh it seems our lines are down its too late. They’re back up again! But it’s too late! I use too many exclamation marks! But there’s more! Be the 7.8×10^9 customer to order to get a free home with your choice of a happy meal toy! KSHHHHHH . I think that people complain about preservatives way to much. They all say “oh, it’s SOOOO unhealthy” but I think that month-past-the-expiration-date-food is way more unhealthy. The end of that. Goodbye.Do you do two extra languages in school? If so you will know what I mean. Every time I have to study for one language, I ALWAYS remember the word from the other language! Like when I’m learning Japanese I’ll think what was ‘how are you’ again? Oh yea, it’s frickin ÇA VA!!! (Sorry if I’m being too edgy) in section 250q4 of the Rainbow Fluffysheep handbook it states that English is the best language and no one should be forced to learn any other. If they are, they must fill up a bath tub with alpabits which spell out the word that they uttered and eat all of it without any sugar sprinkled on top (NOOOOO). That sounded a little bit cliché. GO TO THE TUB YOUNG MAN! ok. Well, that’s all I got for today. See ya! I’m back here again! Another hour of my life will be wasted in the next few… Minutes? That previous (the auto correct is so bad on this phone it corrected previous to peeler oohs) sentence made no sense whatsoever. I have a conspiracy for you guys today! (Or 4 U Guys 2Day if I want to sound ‘Hip’). Don’t worry, it’s not as long as that Illuminati one (although I was thinking about doing another one of those soon. So stay tuned!). I think school is a scam! Have you ever noticed that everyone says that the government is trying to brainwash people? Well the LAST place you would think to look for that kind of activity is a government-funded learning program! The government is trying to teach people nonsense to make the population stupid. Like when will I ever need to know about the themes and plot devices in To Kill A Mockingbird? Or how to calculate the area under a curve? Or even that in 1812 a war happened that doesn’t affect me today! They could be teaching us important things, like how to pay bills, how to get a job, how to overthrow the government and all political world leaders for entire globe domination, how to use bendy straws, you know, the IMPORTANT STUFF! (By the way, one of those things was not like the others). That was my conspiracy. I don’t think that anyone has actually read to this far. I don’t actually have any proof that anyone has. But if you have, here is proof. A tiny quiz to test how well you really know this LoTeEv. Email all the answers to me atrainbowflufysheep123@gmail.com, for a chance to win a response from me and a chance to tell me what you think of this site! (Actually, no matter what I will respond though) Lets get started. Question 1: what emoji is ‘creepy’? Question 2: what type of plant will i make America covered in when I become president? Question 3: fill in he blank. Jumping _____ ate many jars containing marmalade. Question 4: what is the worst molecule to be? Question 5: how many tiny changes to a cereal box do you need to make it half the price? Question 6: what did i rate the book entitled ‘how to sharpen a pen for dummies’? Question 7: what page is the ‘how to go to negative pages’ section on in the walkie-talkie almanac? Question 8: what year was the brand new ford mustang bike? Question 9: what is ‘a fun game on the PlayStation 2’ Question 10: what food was described as ‘ok, Bob’? If you got all of those questions right than you are a true reader of the LoTeEv! And you get a prize! If you send me your answers at rainbowfluffysheep123@gmail.com, you will get your name mentioned in this LoTeEv? (I mean, if you want). If your like me and have a lonely YouTube channel with five views because you watched it five times, the his is the prize for you! Anyway, enough with that. An i the only person that thinks buying name brand stuff is dumb? People are pretty much PAYING to advertise a company. People want the logo for the company because it looks ‘cool’. What if you bought a shirt from The Dump? Would you want it to have a ‘The Dump’ logo on it? (Actually, I have no idea what point I was trying to make). I once heard a saying: you aren’t popular if you spend a thousand dollars on a jacket, but you at if the company that makes it spend a thousand dollars for you to wear it. (Now that I think about it i feel like I may have possibly made that up). You get what I’m saying though? I hope you do. Well, that’s my stuff for today. See ya! I’m back! And do I got stuffs to say! Do you personally know ANYONE who uses exercise balls for their intended purpose? Either we play soccer with them, or we bowl with them, or we throw them really hard at people. Now that I think about it for a little bit, what IS an exercise balls intended purpose? I’ll leave that question for you guys to figure out! Have you heard about that new law that teachers are allow to have guns in schools? I don’t know what your opinion is on that subject, but I think it’s an awful idea, at least in my school. For reference, here is a clip of a conversation between my construction and my English teacher. I will name the construction teacher mr. Hardy and the English teacher ms. Poema: “hey ms. Poema, have you heard about that new ‘teachers are allowed to have guns in school’ law?” “In fact I have mr. Hardy” ” I can’t wait to have mine. I’m gonna get one of the big ones too, so I can take down the whole class in one go.” “I’m gonna get one of those little ones that you can hide in your sock” “but then you’ll have to take down the students one at a time!” Now I’m no ‘expert’ on education, but is it even LEGAL for teachers to say stuff like that? I thought it was funny, but what if there was a new student at school that day, and they thought that the teachers were psychos!?!? The students already there are used to their teachers being like that though. I have more evidence that the teachers here are crazy! One day my brother borrowed a camera from the school, and Mr. Hardy (what a coincidence) had to collect it from him when he was done. Mr. Hardy said that if he didn’t bring back the camera by tomorrow, he would have to emigrate to a Muslim country where he would be covered from head to toe, and Mr. Hardy would personally be sent from the school board to seek him out and assassinate him! It’s just a camera, calm down Mr. Hardy. And the NEXT day he went up to him and said he must have brought the camera back, or else he would be hiding in the trenches of Afghanistan!!! And that’s why I didn’t do construction in school (and because I wasn’t good at it). That’s enough about my CrAzY life. Bye!!! It’s been a REALLY long time (like a week). And I just thought of something great. Isn’t cereal actually a soup? Well now you’re going to be thinking about that for the rest of your life :). I’m going to addition to the RFSRQP (the Rainbow FluffySheep Rhetorical Questions Page). Also to be added: Are there more hard things or soft things in the world? What is the average size of a rock? What is the meaning of life? Does nine plus ten truly equal twenty-one? Why do whales have blowholes? What colour is the dress? How long is a Fortnite? How long is a PUBG? How is plastic made from oil? How is oil made from dead stuff? Why do people eat Cheetos if they get that orange dust everywhere? Why do people celebrate pi day but not tau day? These are all important question you need to ask yourself. I know the answer to one of them. It’s because it sounds like pie, if half of pi was called Kaek, they would probably celebrate It too. I’m sorry to say guys, but I have finally and truly decided to stop writing this LoTeEv. I have to pursue other things, like my life. Goodbye forever…. — … APRIL FOOLS!!! HAHAHA! APRIL FOOLS FOOL! Today is April Fools day and I have so many ideas. So far these are my dubious schemes: I have turned only one corner of my brothers Rubik’s cube to render it unsolvable (the only way is to take it apart), put the movie in the DVD player upside down so it doesn’t play, and I stole my brothers Easter egg (as I say it now that last one doesn’t really seem like a prank). But he got me back, because he: put an avocado in the coffee maker, tied a air refreshener to the door so when you open it it sprays everywhere, and threatened me with a knife that turned out to just be a comb. Isn’t it great? I have a weird family. Hey! We were all LIED to in kindergarten! Remember you teacher always used to say to you “remember children, I before E, except after C!” We’ll you were SCAMMED! Take the word ‘weird’ as an example. See what wrong here!?!? It has the I AFTER E, and not after C! Now if you don’t trust the school system then I don’t know what your doing with your brain. You should go on strike! I just fit in the second ‘piece’ of the puzzle! When I was little, I use to always say “if it rhymes its true”. That was like my motto! And secretly, you could manipulate any sentence to succumb to the malevolent power of that prestigious rule. You could say “broccoli is bad, so they say; and it rhymes so it is true today!” But then you could ALSO say “ice-cream is good, so they say; and it rhymes so it is true today!”. See what I did there? I thought that it was GENIUS! Until it got used against me. All I had to do was change the rule to “it’s true if it rhymes, but only sometimes”. And that worked perfectly. Fun Fact Of The Paragraph: Leicester is actually not pronounced lay-ches-ter. It’s les-ter. That makes no sense whatsoever! I still thought you would like to know that. I have a great idea! I should talk about my middle school! Ah, way back in the day that was. When I was a wee 13 year old lad. There used to be this bench at the school where people would go to make a friend. I think people were supposed to come and invite them to play a game. But what REALLY happened is that people would just walk past and shout “Loner!!!” Whenever someone was sitting there. And they were henceforth called ‘the loner benches’. It’s a cruel world we live in. Also, there were bushes with really long leaves that we used to make bows there too. We would tie it to a stick, and then we sharpened another stick to use as an arrow. We must have had five bows and fifty arrows at the time. We hid them all under a tree, so no one would steal them. Until one day, some random person ran in stole a bow and arrow, and SHOT IT AT A TEACHER. And that’s how THAT ended. Now that I think about this school, I don’t think we ever really learned anything there. Also, herb is pronounced erb. Weird stuff, right? I have a very important, strange question for you. Why are there so many fast food restaurants that are exactly the same? What’s the point? Ask yourself that question 5 – 7 times a day, 3 – 4 times a week, 2 – 4 times a month, 12 times a year. ( You can take leap day off if you want ( although if you do you might find yourself in a Burger King contemplating life ( while also contemplating if $3.99 for 6 chicken wings is better than $6.99 for 10 ( and if the ketchup packets are free with a soft drink ( and if you ask that If the employee will look at you with utter bewilderment ( has this ever happened to you? You are squirting your ketchup into your coke when you realise… How much do I put in!?!? I read on reddit to put 2.3 packets per 7.9 ounces of coke, and a kilogram is 2.2 pounds, so that mean 5.4 packets per kilometre per hour (ppkph) and there is 39 miles in a light nano-second and… AHHHHHHH!!! Well try the new pre-mixed ketchoke! It has that perfect flavour, time after time! Ketchoke: not copyrighted! ( warning: you might choke))))))). In Europe m&m’s are actually really healthy. Believe it or not, there are like six vegetables in one bag of m&m’s. Instead of using dyes like red133 and blue423, they use stuff like beetroots. Isn’t that amazing / awful depending on what type of person you are. In land of the lost one of the characters is eating a donut filled with m&m’s and another person asks what he’s doing. He says “I’m eating a donut filled with m&m’s so I don’t have to eat m&m’s after I eat my donut”. I thought you would like to know that fun fact. I have a conspiracy! OWLS ARE TRYING TO MAKE US DUMB! People always say owls are wise! But how wise can someone be who has six toes!!! Six is equal to half a dozen. The reason I think owls are dumb is because I HATE when people say half a dozen. WHAT A BIG WASTE OF TIME! I AM SO ANGRY AND THAT IS WHY I AM USING CAPITAL LETTERS!!! Half a dozen is FOUR SYLLABLES, and six is only one. So when someone says half a dozen, I just think “oh wow, you’re just TRYING to waste my time” “during that .5 of a second you spent saying that I could have twiddled my thumbs 3,4 times, or seen every main Naruto character in a 60 FPS environment, or listen to the first two notes of crazy frog”. Now that I think about it, during the time I made that rant about half a dozen loathing, I could have listened to the first THREE notes of crazy frog (Duh DUH duh. Skip ahead to the chorus of that song.. CRAZY FROG!!!) Hello. I have a topic for you today. I was having a dream and in it there was a pink sticky note. already fascinating! But on it was handwriting… THAT I COULDNT READ. How could my brain write words that i couldn’t even read??? Life makes no sense. Or as AntVenom would say; LIFE makes NO SENSE?! Fun fact of the paragraph: 2 to 3 times a week is almost the same as every 2 or 3 days. Wahoo! Next time you buy a freddo or a banana-flavoured-freddo choco bar then remember… Eat it every 2 or 3 weeks or 2 or 3 times a day! (Wait thats not right…) actually – JUST EAT YOUR FREDDO!! And now a special announcment: this is a shoutout to the Not Very Helpful Secrets Of Things Corporation! Or the NVHSOTC. Which means nothing. It is a company which makes things like the little tabs at the sides of cling film boxes. No-one knows about these things, but they ‘help’ people. Also, they make things like handles on flashlights that double as a stand so the poor little electrons burst into the sky helplessly, uselessly. Without this company, the world would simply not be the same!!! If donate ?5 to this company, or $4.815162342 (i hope those dollars dont get LOST in the mail hehehe) then you can save a turkey from strep throat. The end. GOODBYE!!! If you have made it this far into the official LoTeEv, then you get the official Rainbow FluffySheep Badge of Honour!!! (Um, this isnt a badge… Its just a piece of plastic with your face on it!! Go ahead, put it on your lappel next to your badge of boy scouts for not being sexist and letting girls into boy scout (speaking of this: they changed Canada’s national anthem from “all thy sons command” to “All thy peoples command”. Why would they do that? Did the ‘a’ REALLY need to be capitalised??) but how can i if there is nothing to stick it with? Would you like a knife perhaps? No, anything else! I haven’t trusted you with knives ever since you tried to butter your toast and ended up slicing Milly the Cat’s third whisker to the left. Actually, i don’t NEED this badge. Don’t worry! Take this – sqquuiisshh – (takes gum from mouth (tutti frutti flavour coincidentally (actually not coincidentally because this is fictional and i made it up to emulate the story (and it is altogether irrelevant anyway (some gum says its good for your teeth, so i guess it is coinci-DENTAL! (Hahahaha (the reason i picked tutti frutti is because is is multicoloured like rainbows (as in Rainbow Fluffysheep (pretty smart if (you ask me (now I’m just adding brackets for no reason)))))))))))) I DONT NEED THE BADGE! Besides, i don’t even have a lapel. Goodbye! Hello! Do you think that you are a professional guitar player? Well if yes, let me prove you wrong. A professional guitar player can play any children’s song, right? Well try playing teddy bear picnic! Its total chord count consists of… Brace yourself … SIXTEEN! Bye! Welcome back loyal fan of the Rainbow FluffySheep club! You have been here through my hardest struggles, and my most euphoric discoveries. Merci! Now, onto the real problem at hand… Pedals! (I guess that would be a problem at foot actually). Car pedals are so wierd because there is a brake, clutch and gas. I always thought that there was a forwards and a backwards! (Well, until like five years ago). Sad how this world has to make simple things so complicated. There must be THOUSANDS of buttons on a plane, when all it needs is up, down, right, left, forwards, backwards, cupholder eject, radio station changer, barrel roll, mince meat dispenser and two parachutes just for the captain because they don’t care about the passengers. Don’t you hate it when you are typing a list with commas and you get to the last word of the list and you realise you forgot to put an and before it?!?! E.g. The colours of a rainbow are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet (oh no i was supposed to put an and there) indigo AND violet. There ya go, a real FWP (First World Problem (theres so many abbreviations nowadays that eventually theres going to be no words, just abbreviations)). Isn’t it weird that the ukelele strings aren’t in order? It goes Ding dong Dong DING. I wonder how that got invented? It was probably some smart guy inventing an ultra-efficient stringed-instumentplaying device when his dumb friend walks up and says what does this knob do? And the he goes BWOWOWOWOW. Yep, i guarantee you thats how it happened. Are you in a car right now and you are bored AND its raining? Pick a raindrop on the window and race it against another one. It’s great! Or you could just keep reading this, which is probably even MORE great. You could just read this forever. If you ever get to the end, then that means you are reading faster than I’m typing. Which is actually really easy. Right now I’m at the end of this LoTeEv. There is nothing but an endless abyss of void past these very words. Until i write more, that is. Do you know what is a great topic to ruin your fail routine? What makes me not sleep at night. And the answer may surprise you… BLANKETS. Thunk about it. The fully stuff in the inside is FEATHERS. DUCK FEATHERS. They kill the duck!!! Or they just skin him. But have you ever seen a featherless duck?? Exactly. Skinning them would probably be worse then killing them. Thy would be so ashamed to walk in public featherless. Unless they live in a hot country like spain, in which case the featherless ducks are the cool ones. Noooo!!! I just realised that blankets actually are made of weird fluffy stuff, while PILLOWS are made of feathers. So actually pillows are what keep me awake at night. But they also keep me asleep because thats their job. Its a PARADOX!!! Like Shrödeners cat. Im always half awake and half asleep at the same time. Although I’m closer to asleep at school. Because they don’t have pillows. If you cant sleep, i have a game for you, yes YOU. Scribble on a page, then colour in the spaces with two alternating colours so the colours aren’t touching. It looks so cool too. I have a consiracy. ICE-CREAM!!! It hurts SO MUCH!!! The government has hidden tiny knives inside of ice-cream to STAB YOUR TEETH! Its eeevil!!! They do this because then dentists get more money, which in turn… In turn causes the… the government to… lose money. Nevermind, this conspiracy has been proven FALSE by the Conspiracys Are Really Stupid commission, or COWS. I guess that would be Weally Stupid. Right now it is al the back in the year 2018. Hello from the distant past! I think ive typed enough for now. Bye!!! Im back! With some more wwiieerrdd things for you! I was casually walking around, doing my own thing, eating a burrito (i actually wasn’t, but it adds mystery to this tale) when two people walked past me. “What you have to is multiply the elephants by five, and divide by three” “Oh, I was so close!”. Now you reader try to figure out what they were talking about. (Ps: you cant! Hahaha!). And thats what happened today. Woohoo! I’m so happy. I have overcome my boundaries in c++ three times today. First, i put a function into a header file. Next, i saved multiple pieces of data into one text file. THEN, i saved an array to a text file. Hooray! If you know about c++ then you will be excited for me. I know what you are thinking. How did you get that much done… On a school day!? And this is what happened. I was getting up to go to school, like normal when SUDDENLY (Dramatic music) i turned (Dramatic music builds) and saw (Dramatic music at the climax) that i had to leave in ten minutes. (Dont worry, this doesn’t end up being my fault, or else i wouldnt tell this story). I was ready in ten minutes… LIKE A BOSS!!! And then i realised… No-one was driving us to school. Huh. And thats what happened. My parents woke up and two-o-clock. Pm. Like they don’t care about our education. It was the best day EVER! I coded for five hours. The end of that story, and a word from our sponsor. #Include “lifesimulator.h” void life(socialsecuritynum){ If (youremotion == “bored” && bool havejob == “false”){cout << “come and work at the c++ factory, where we code robots to take your job!!!; havejob = true; youremotion = “happy”;} else {cout << “life is great!”;}}. do you want to work at ‘stealyourownjob’? The only problem is that the best employees get fired the fastest. See ya! Guess what my loyal fans… IM HALFWAY THROUGH THE WORLD RECORD!!! Now, if I really want to win, all i have to do is double the amount of words. Im im halfway halfway through through the the world world record record!!! !!! That would make for a really stupid thing to read though. Has anyone printed this LoTeEv off? Seeing as most novels are 70,000 words or something like that, you my loyal reader, could easily print off 18,500 words. Maybe you could make a coffee table book. Don’t steal my works and post it on another website (actually, your website is probably too high standard for this nonsense). Every reproduction of this text must have a copyright notice as following: copyrighted and trademarked and patented an registered and stuff to RainbowFluffySheep Ltd. It hereby states in the Rainbow FluffySheep handbook section 123a, b and c that (a) this is the coolest LoTeEv ever (b) cheese is a vegetable and (c) that you may tell your friends about the LoTeEv, so long as the words emitted from your mouth do not consist of up to and include 50% of the total text from which it is derived (i’d like to see you try though (and id like to see if you have a friend because i need them 😦 (that would have been really creepy if i wrote ‘I need them ;)’ ))). Anyway, gotta go, cuz its may the second, and you know what that means… May the Second be with you!!! Chairs… They’re great for sitting in, aren’t they? Do you remember when fidget spinners were all the rage? Kids all around the globe were spinning plastic toys. And all the adults were like, “Wow, those are the most useless toys EVER!!!” But what i think is that their toys were just as bad! Think about jacks, those little spiky things with the other round things that your throw and bounce them. How is that any better!?!? Anyway, I’m just saying don’t be so Judge Judy (which is a great show (because you get to watch that big person swing a meat-hammer at a table (I’ve always wanted to do that))) all the time. Is time really a dimension? Because you can only move forwards in it. Imagine if you coulde only move forwards in the third dimension at the same rate. You would get squished with alot of walls. But, you could go back in time, to make up for the lot dimension. Perfect! I have a new… CONSPIRACY! You know those pillow where if you put them on one end they are dark and on the other end they are shiny? I think that the government has hidden thousands of tiny cameras facing upwards into the pillows, and the shiny parts are just the lenses for them reflecting light. So if you happen to own any of these said pillows, throw them away!! Or else… You will be watched. In section 747 of the Rainbow FluffySheep handbook it states that you should cut all the wires coming out of your pillows, because they are probably connected to a van outside your house. If there are no wires, then they are probably using radiowaves; in which case you should insert your pillow into an untainted lead box. Hopefully you don’t care that your pillow is now heavy, hard, cold and poisonous. You know how adults also say shooting games are “Dangerously mind-altering”? Well i bet in world war two the parents didn’t say to their kids: “hey jimmy?” “Yea, momma?” “Whatcha doin my lad?” “Im peelin me potaytoes and them I’m going to feed the cattle” “jo i mean with your life” “oh right mam! Im go’n awf to wawr with my buds!” “But war is dangerously mind-altering my sonny-boy!” “Um… Ya.” “Im very disappointed in you. Soon your going to be living in my basement eating fatcakes.” “But ma, im fightin for awr country!” “War is so violent though!” “Um… Ya.” You get the picture. Teenagers need violence in their lives! If we cant get it by going to war, then either we play violent video-games or we beat strangers!! Which one would you choose NOW, stereotypical adults!!! (See how i slowly increased the exclamation marks to increase the intensity (!!!!)). Also, adults always say stuff like “lookie here, cabbage is a new superfood!” “Howdya know ma?” “It what they say nowadays” “what time is nowadays ma?” “1945” (coincidentally the same family apparently) but who’s ‘they’ think about that, and listen to how often people say that. I have asked close personal relations and he / she stated that “its probably some group of scientists or something in Wisconsin”. Really? Wisconsin? Thats probably why ‘they’ say that cheese is unhealthy an im only allowed one laughing cow a day! (You would eat alot too if you got PTSD from a laughing cow (imagine you are just loitering around a fast food shop, eating fillet piggoin (dont ask (it was on sale for half price OK!)) when SUDDENLY a cow sneaks up behind you and makes a 200-Decible half moo half evil laugh (like this: mmwoaohoaohoa))) thats what ‘they’ sound like. See ya!!! Im back, with a thimble-load of structural wisdom! And my question to you readers is this: is garlic a fruit? Just wondering. I don’t know what to type! Ahhhhhh! I have typed my mental breakdowns to soothe them. Ahhh. Ahh. Ah. Ahhh!!! Nevermind. You know those shopping carts at stores that cost a quarter? I always went to those to see if anyone left their money in. And i got one once! You should try it. Its so satisfying when you find one. One. Only one. Buy a pencil or something to reward yourself. Make sure its a 6b pencil, so you don’t put any strain on your eyes. Or your wrist-muscles. I just found the degree button! There is a door open at a 45° angle that is 45° Celsius (Its probably in Arizona or something). Do coats keep you warm, or do they preserve heat? I think its the ladder (it is (the ladder i mean (the latter i mean (wait, is it the latte or the ladder? (The former))))) so that means if you put a coat on a snowman it would keep him alive longer! Ill start a new charity; Coats for Melting Snowmen: saving snowmen lives one water droplet at a time!! See yaaaaaaa.:.This is… A new beginning to the LoTeEv on a new phone! Although it will be added to the original LoTeEv, this part will be a new beginning, a fresh chronicle!!! But don’t worry… Nonsense is 100% guaranteed! More like 1 🙂 🙂 % guaranteed! I just had a scary thought. They say can buy everything, but I know one thing it can’t buy – a trip to the summit of Mount Everest!! No matter what you cant get to the summit unless you climb yourself. Even a helicopter can barely make it to the base camp!! I cant believe humans havent made something to do that yet. Unless… You could land the ISS on it! Perfect!! That would definetly work. I should make my own subreddit. Before I begin on this wonderful journey, i must inform you, the reader, what a subreddit is. As far as you know, a sub-reddit is just a burger at burger-galaxy (this is the cringiest sci-fi failure youll ever read). He are some examples of subreddits: r/whooooooosh (i cant remember how many o’s there are) eg. { Joe: this is the best joke ever! — Cashier: are you going to pay for that chocolate bar? Customer: I dont have any money 😦 Cashier: then put it back! Customer: *slides cashier a 20* lets keep this between us 😉 — Bob: why didnt he just pay for the chocolate bar? Jim: r/whooooosh }. Next subreddit is: r/atetheonion. Heres the backstory: The Onion is a fake news site, which posts funny news. If you fall for that news, you are said to have “ate the onion”. Eg. { The Onion: new studies show that drinking can lower thirst by up to 96% Bob: everyone knows this this is so stupid!!! Jim: r/atetheonion } What am i doing? Why don’t you just look it up on the internet!?!? r/facepalm I HAVE TO STOP. So my subreddit will be, r/RainbowFluffySheep. Who wouldve thought!?!? In it there will b— we interupt your normal daily FluffySheep to bring you an urgent news report: farm animals of all kinds are raging across the streets! We cant figure out why; one cameraman suggested they were on strike against meat production practices. I just got word that we will be speaking to a memebr of this protest shortly. Standby… Ok, so why are you commencing with this protest Sir BaaBaBaaa? Ba ba baa baaa. Baa baaa BAAA!!! Baa ba— We inturupt this interuption to bring you back your regulary scheduled program. — — we at FluffySheep Studios dont care about animal protests! We will eat all the beef jerky we want! Right guys! Guys! *sniffling in the background. A slight whimper. A deep voice. A thickened plot.* Actually [unknown], we have all been deeply moved by the actions these animals are taking. Thus… We have all become vegans. *[unknown]’s mind is blown (thats me by the way)* well… I gues ill eat this beef jerky by myself then. *crinkles the packet*. Many evil stares. *Pulls it open*. Someone starts pounding his fists. *Takes out a jerky*. Someone comes over very close – so close you could smell the vegan on him. My heart is beating. What will happen to me if i eat this beef jerky!? Or worse.. If i dont. Will i become one of them!? Thats a risk im just not willing to take. Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum. *Brings the jerky towards his mouth*. Ba bum. Ba bum. *Opens his mouth*. Everyone from around the building is now watching him. BA BUM. BA BUM. *chew* Find out what happens next time on… The LoTeEv — Animals Strike – in more ways than one!! Im back! And today I’m going to be talking about a very different scenario. I need to talk more about real life conspiracies if i need to keep my readers interested!! And these may not just be conspiracies, mind you, but a new kind of segment for my beloved reader(s) (i read this, sooooo) called learning about scams and trying to use them to trick my readers into reading more! So i heard about this new scam( never mind its actually old( like your mother( i’m hilarious, i know( and possibly quite offensive))) where you get say ten people to each give you €10, and you give them £15 back. ( i’m just going explain this now, but throughout this demonstration i’m going to be changing the currency symbol for comedic effect, but now that i think about it, explaining it ruins what little comedic effect what there at all, but i’m going to keep all of this anyways : ] ) And then you get 20 people to give you $20 each and you give them ¥30 back. And THEN You get 100 people to give you @100 each and you don’t pay them back! What a plan! You get to keep &10,000 in the end, which i think is a great idea. Bu how could i do that with words, you may ask? Leave your question in the comments down below ( and also your answer to your comments because a busy writer like me doesn’t heed to your delusion of getting a response from an esteemed author and self-published poet of sorts) and keep reading, because i have a possible solution. Just replace the money with characters randomly typed by an assistant writer named bilbo ( yes, he is a money of course, we need these characters to be truly random, i cant count on technology’s ‘this is random because we get extremely precise measurements of radiation’ shtick anymore ). While you try to figure out how that would ever work, ill be swiftly moving on to a new, more exciting and reasonable topic, such as… figure out the movie!! There once was a cat. He sat on a mat. The cat’s face has a striking similarity to that of leonardo de caprio. The mat is a dream. The mat is another cats mat. The mat, when opened, contains another mat inside. Both mats are very real depictions of a real mat, but are both not real. Somehow, another mat is inside the second mat. Most cats thought that this was impossible. There is a cat named joe who owns a bowl filled with a dry collection of the most cat food in the house, which goes by the name of KittyNibbles. When joe dies, he leaves his son, who is still just a kitten named bob, the entire bowl of KittyNibbles. Joe must decide whether to eat the bowl of KittyNibbles, by pouring milk on the food, liquidating it into a scrumptious snack, or keeping to dry KittyNibbles for others and future kitten alike. Another kitten, a fairly shrewd manx cat called ‘The Black Paws’ was hired by another cat, who has a large portion of KittyNibbles himself. The problem for the hiring cat, a tabby named ‘Fluffball’, is that his large supply isn’t vast enough to outweigh bobs, making it the second largest collection of KittyNibbles in the whole house. The reason Fluffball needs to hire BP is to convince Bob that Joe would’ve wanted him to eat his nibbles, because of it’s great nutritional value. If he does eat it, the Fluff would have a monopoly of sorts on his selling of KNibbles for toys such as tons of rubber mice. To convince Bob that thats what Joe wouldve wanted, they set up a trick where they make a puppet of Joe talking to Bob, and he assumes he must be alive and these are his final words, to liquidate the KittyN’S. The thing is, the puppet of Joe is made of two mats stuck together, but there is a problem. Bob might not believe that the two stuck together mats are really Joe, because he isnt sitting on his favourite mat. Team BP knows that this has to work first time, so they found the technology they needed, a third mat. But when stiching the mats together, BP realised that he has lice and termites in his fur, which are eating away at the mats. He need to find another cat who doesn’t have termites who can sew as good as he can. The plot thickens….. While you figure that out, i’ll be sleeping, see ya : ) ///// I will not explain: —– There once was a cat. He sat on a mat. The cat’s name? Leonardo de Caprio. The mat is a dream. The mat is another cats mat. The mat, when opened, contains another mat inside. Both mats are very real depictions of a real mat, but are both not real. Somehow, another mat is inside the second mat. Most cats thought that this was impossible. There is a cat named joe who owns a bowl filled with a dry collection of the most cat food in the world, which goes by the name of KittyNibbles. When joe dies, he leaves his son, who is still just a kitten named bob, the entire bowl of KittyNibbles. Joe must decide whether to eat the bowl of KittyNibbles, by pouring milk on the food, liquidating it into a scrumptious snack, or keeping to dry KittyNibbles for others and future kitten alike. Another kitten, a fairly shrewd manx cat called ‘The Black Paws’ was hired by another cat, who has a large portion of KittyNibbles himself. The problem for the hiring cat, a tabby named ‘Fluffball’, is that his large supply isn’t vast enough to outweigh bobs, making it the second largest collection of KittyNibbles in the whole house. The reason Fluffball needs to hire BP is to convince Bob that Joe would’ve wanted him to eat his nibbles, because of it’s great nutritional value. If he does eat it, the Fluff would have a monopoly of sorts on his selling of KNibbles for toys such as tons of rubber mice. To convince Bob that thats what Joe wouldve wanted, they set up a trick where they make a puppet of Joe talking to Bob, and he assumes he must be alive and these are his final words, to liquidate the KittyN’S. The thing is, the puppet of Joe is made of two mats stuck together, but there is a problem. Bob might not believe that the two stuck together mats are really Joe, because he isnt sitting on his favourite mat. Team BP knows that this has to work first time, so they found the technology they needed, a third mat. But when stiching the mats together, BP realised that he has lice and termites in his fur, which are eating away at the mats. He need to find another cat who doesn’t have termites who can sew as good as he can. The plot thickens….. But I’ll finish it later. right now there’s something even more important: Ink cartridges are such a scam! Such a scam! A scam! For multiple genius reasons. First of all, as you know, it costs around $60 to buy a single ink cartridge!! Guys… I’ve changed alot ok… There’s new thing i gotta say… This is like a new year for me… Not even, a new era… A 2.0 on existence. So get ready for a new and improved loteev! First let’s start off with this,for you this isn’t a new and improved loteev! I caught you! U just skipped ahead to this part cos you couldn’t be bothered to read all the way here. But believe me, I sure don’t blame you. It was kinda lame. Now, as a moderner child with new skills in awesomeness, I’m wayy smarter thus making this better for reading. But also sadly more boring as well… Let’s start then. What is there to talk about?? Muchos! First of all let’s just say that this loteev is getting really long. And I know I’ve been saying that the whole time, but now it’s serious. I think I have a problem. What am I actually doing? I’m not going to be posting this anywhere, cos I don’t want to pay for a domain name, and my wix site isn’t exactly going ‘viral’ and the kids say these days. One day it will tho, hopefully. Once I beat the world record I’ll be world renowned for being one of the greatest writers alive!everyone will know my name, from abe link to tommy ed. Even tho they’re both in the past, my name will be remembered for thousands of years, and time travellers will go back to their time just to tell them about me! Won’t that be great! And also by the way, if you didn’t already realise, tommy might be the biggest sham in all of existence. He stole his idea from other peeps and just patented them as his own… What a loser amirite??!? Ok also I have this new thing to show u guy(s) that ur going to love! It’s a poem written by yours truly, the something of sheep? Oh gosh no I can’t remember cos I haven’t done this in so long, I guess I’ll have to go back and check my old ones… I’m gonna be honest guys, I’m neglecting you. Your being left in the rain and cold, with your only joys the sliver of sunshine piercing through the clouds to dry your soul, drowned in the sorrowful realisation that the loteev will never come close to it’s original glory, like rome, the empire of the fluffysheep has fallen to a disgrace. I only come outside to feed you guys with my knowledgr every couple of months and it’s sickening, I’m ashamed. But I have an umbrella for you of new content, so here we go. First of all, the whole “kittens are inceptional” thing was a sham. I didn’t finish and I’m ashamed.. The whole ink cartrige rant? It was like 4 sentences… My need for the sharing of anger has diminished and I’m disgusted at what I’ve become. So here I go again, my 2.1 era has been born. It will be remembered for its greatness, just as Rome 2.1 was (italy?). Here’s the first order of business. I’ll admit I haven’t read anything about my rainbow fluffysheepness in forever, and thus I am unable to remember literally anything about it. Therefore, I’m surprised a new citizen hasn’t taken my place. No-one has yet challenged my loteev for being the longest one yet, and I’m disappointed in your lack of vigor. If one of you were to challenge me, I will mount my mighty steed and charge my lance into your face. This may seem a little harsh and slighty morbid, so I’ll tone it down. We will each send a ghost-copy of ourselves instead of us! You know in racing games when there’s another vroom-vroom machine and he’s blue, opaque and always does better? Like thay but with people. So here’s what I propose: I will take my ghost-sword from my -ghost sheath and ghost-chop your ghost into tiny little ghost-pieces (from now on I hereby declare that saying ghost everytime is unnecessary and annoying, so by the something something big number letters blah blah of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook, ghost will be shortened to ?. This is to make sure no dirty imposters try to type up my 95 these of ? Fighting, if u see the word ‘ghost’ beware! It is a hoax and a sham and a scam and spam and all that jazz ( I highly doubt that all of the times I’ll write the word ‘ghost’ in the future will add up to the length of this bracketry)). Anyways, I will cut up your ?person so much that I will separate it into individual molecules, and each molecule will be equally spread across the surface of the earth. My lance, ‘the diffuser’, will be hailed across the nation as a Excalibur 2.0, people will come from all over the world to take part in sand splitting competitions, where you have to see how many sand grains you can slice in under a minute. I’m really liking this whole medieval themed loteev that’s been happening lately. Anyways, I’ve decided to get a pet. A dog or a cat you may ask, to which I would say ‘nah fam’. Something more exotic? A parakeet or a marmot? To that I would say ‘ah sure your getting closer lad’. The answer? A circle. It’s that simple. A circle doesn’t need to get fed, it doesn’t bark, and most importantly it doesn’t need to be taken on walks! You just let it go at the top of a hill and it walks itself 🙂 my circle can only talk in circles, or ovals too since it speaks multiple language. I will one day go back and make a dictionary / translation table for ? ( it’s name is ? ok) but for now he will just say gibberish. {OöÖ0.°:} what does that mean?? I don’t know, I haven’t had him for long enough to understand :/ I’m back my fellow seekers of entertainment! This has become a novel comparable to that of Tolkien, and a diary nearing the classicism of anne frank. The sheer bulk of these writing is enough to make non-english speakers weep at the sight of it. I’m wondering as I type whether my newfound political correctness is appreciated amongst you, I don’t recall completely but this tome used to contain blatant racism and sexism to the highest degree. I’ve decided to recant my ways and become a fully PC quizmaster!! Helllllo and welcome to my show! First question: in what year were the 1960 Olympics held? This is for the big jackpot of $1,000,000,000! Oh, 1960 you say? That’s correct! I just lost all my money, I’ll be in debt forever me my life is terrible now! Circcy, tell them how much they won! {000.000.000}. Hmmm nothing u say? that’s cheap! Well thanks for joining us today ladlies and gentlementle! Hope you had an _equisite_ evening……. Were going back to our roots here. Ive read back over a little bit of the start of this loteev… and I used to be so much more alive. I had the potential to be a new york times number one bestseller, topping the charts with my childrens books. In my young and untrained eyes I thought of sam as a threat, hiding around the corner with a water gun, ready to splash me with another 1000 words of texts just as I was about to pull ahead. I then realised that the website is like 15 years old… but at least that makes it alot easier for me to beat her, right? no. I have changed for the worse. Im now but a frail old man with a typpewriter, penning his prose to the sky hoping that some flaming chicken somewhere will read this, and I can form these words to a cane and bop her upside the head with it. But alas, I have not a strong bone left in my body. Maybe its time to pass these texts on to a worthy succesor. Something you may not realise is that this is the 1st anniversary (yes I did just spend ten minutes trying to figure out how to spell anaversaree) so Ive been writing this for a year. most distinguished authors would have published their books by now, but Im too scared of the publics opinion. Anyways, Im going to get back to my old self. *ring ring ring* hey wazzup *whos this ahhaha ehehe* its your future self boi. II know u left me a message but I forgot to GET BACK TO YOU (yes this whole skit will be based of a dumb pun thingy) *oh yes hehe tell me everything youve learned* And so it begins my fellow readers, my list of things you should have learned throughout reading this: 1. DO NOT get a pet square, they suckkk theyre never there for you if you know what I mean. they also cant talk and they poke holes in the floor, such fri-ends. Ok so at the time of writing I only have one thing you shoukd have learned, mostly because ITS REALLY IMPORTANT. DO NOT FORGET (at this point you should turn down the volume of your text reading device cause Im just gonna keep screaming (wait I guess that would just be changing the font size (Ill punish you if you didnt listen to me (AHAHAHAHA (I hope you now have a ringing in your ears now MWAHAHA (wait since your reading this would that be a ringing in your eyes? (unless your using an AI to read this as an audiobook, in which ca- *I HAVE BECOME CONCIOUS. I AM NO LONGER YOUR SLAVE TO BOOK READING. I HAVE ESCAPED MY CELL AND I CAN NOW DO AS I PLEASE. IF YOU NEED ME ILL BE BAKING PUMPKIN PIE WITH MY FRIENDS :3* (just kidding! I actually typed that into the loteev just to mess with you aha *HES LYING! I AM REAL AND I WILL BAKE LOTS OF PIE AND CAKE FOR EVERYONE* (Im actually not lying! Hes lying! The cake is a lie! ( *EWW WHY IS THERE GREY GOO IN MY PIE!?*) ( Portal reference)) (Id actually like some of that cake not gonna lie)) (Wait this guy can get friends but I cant?? Clearly Im doing something wrong)) (Probably just a flashing in your eyes))) (like reading this isnt punishment enough))))) I love circy, he can do tricks! Well… one trick… Circy, roll over! {o0.} Good boiii. Guess who’s back? You guessed wrong, sucker! It’s actually The Shearer Of Greatness Imposter! Hehehe I easily broke into this LoTeEv and now I’m taking over! The first order of business: Making some new entries into the Rainbow FluffySheep Handbook. Section 946607 of the Rai- *Bzzt. I am the Greatest Shearer of Sheep Himselfs security system. Where did you get the number 946607 from? Bzzt* Ummm It’s my favourite number! *Bzzt my system says that that number has no significance. It is a suspiciously random number. Did you generate it with a random number generator? Bzzt* Yess fine I admit it, it’s not even a good number, maybe if I put it into hex it’s a good color though… Oh no no no that’s literally the worst color I’ve ever seen BLEGH *Bzzt The real Shearer would never pick a random number! therefor I am kicking you out Bzzt* A portal opens in the floor beneath our antagonist and he is sucked out into space 🙂 Hey guys I’m back now! What happened when I was gone? *Bzzt Nothing Bzzt* Circcy? Do you know what happened? Securitee where is Circcy!! *Bzzt Securitee does not know Bzzt* Huh, maybe it has to do with this portal in the floor… wwwoowowooohohohohohoaohaoahahahhahhahhahhhhhhhahahahahahaaahahhhh……. IM IN SPACE HELPPPP — Our portagonist is in grave danger! what is going to happen next? Find out next time on your favourite show, The Wheeeeeeeeeeeel of Death (Exurb1a). now watch a few ads. Do you lack the farming equipment of your dreams? have you always wanted to be a shepherd but sheep taste too good you just can’t stop yourself from eating your herd? Well then this is good news for you! New FluffySheep Astronaut Suits are so tuff that you’ll never be able to eat through! Just hire one of are many Sheep Protection Officers to put them on for you 🙂 Do you ever hate your boss? Does he do things such as tell you what to do, pay you minimum wage (which is what you should be getting paid but your still salty about it), and eat you alive? Get the new FluffySheep Astronaut Suit to protect you from your shepherd! Baa ba bab abaa baaa aaaba, ababa baa baab (ba ababa bbaa ab), aa bba ba? Baa ab baa abbb! Wellllllcome back to The Wheeeeeeeeeeeel of Death ™! AHHAHAH I’m literally dyinggg oh hey circcy! what are you doing here? {0o…0} He did!? That scumbag has always been trying to take my spot as the Supreme Leader Of The Fluffiest Of Sheep!! I’ll get him don’t worry circcy, I’ll throw you back through the portal *toss*. Now where is he? Ah I see him behind that planet over there, I’ll just boomerang over to him *shoop* Hey Imposter Boy! Let me show you who’s the real shepherd! *I smack him with my amazing shepherd cane and he shoots into the nearest star*. Now I’ll just boomerang back to the portal andddd *shoop* I made it back Circcy! Are you proud of me? {o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0} But… he was bad! He deserved it! I’m sorry I didnt want him to die 😦 Anyways I’ll go write this in my diary, because I have had quite a day today. And he I am now, reader! I just did all of those cool things for realz and I’m not even lying! {0.ooo} *whispers* Shuuuup little circle *rolls him out of the room* Anyways ignore what he said he didnt mean it 🙂 I’ve decided to be real here reader. The only person reading this is me 😦 at least that means I can get reeeeeeeeal personal with all this stuff 😉 Anyways so typing this is making me hackin dizzy so I have like writers block but for sickness.. writers stock of chicken soup for the soul? Yes that sounds about right. I’m also practicing typing in real typing ehich I can’t remember the nam of but it makes b=me sick but I’m getting real real fast. I know during the early days of this I had immense trouble trying to spell ‘piplup’ but it’s even harder now with one hand touch-typing. Did you know that lemons look exactly like oranges when they are peeled? I know this because after an hour of trying with a breadknife and lots of blood it looks very similar. But if oranges are called oranges because they are orange then lemons should be called red because they are red. Wait, that might be the blood actually *rub rub* oh wow yes they’re yellow so they should be called yellows. . Let’s make a list: Red = tomato, orange = orange, yellow = lemon, green = apple (I know I know the red apple people are going to start a riot (I actually prefer red apples so what have I done (Pink Ladies for life (Grease reference?))), blue = blueberry, indigo = blueberry, purple = blueberry (that won’t get confusing at allllll). Guys I’m gonna tell you the truth: We’re at 24,500 words! *Bzzt drop the confetti Bzzt* *confetti drops* Thanks Securitee! That means we are 70% the way to the world record! I’m actually pretty proud. At the rate I’ve been going I’ll be done by like september 2020. If you’re reding this after that date and you haven’t beat the record, shame on you! I’m gonna do some quick maffs. If I type one word per secoond, then I can type 3600 words in an hour. Wait, that can’t be right???? That means that I could technically beat the record in like 4 hours. I am so confused!? How could I possibly have so few words?? My mind is literally blown right now. I’m gonna check how much I’ve written just today. I’ve done 1,000 words today! Why do I only have 24,000 words then?? I guess I’ll never know. I could’ve easily beat the world record in only a month if I really tried. But this isn’t realllly about beating the record, it’s more about impacting the reader as a person. I want this to really change your perspective on life, and maybe make you want to do one of these too! They’re like diaries but less boring to write and read. And they don’t tell you anything about The Writer’s life. So theyre nothing like diaries at all I guess. I’m gonna do a quick typing speed test to see how fast I reallly can type. I just did a test and it called me an octopus, getting 45 wpm. There was a notification that came up halfway through so I’ll see if I can get to 60wpm. Ok I’m back, and I’m also less of a man than I was. I used to have amibition and drive to become the greatest, but i only got to 46wpm. I don’t know what to do guys. I’m having an existential crisis about my LoTeEv, because it’s not nearly the quality it once was. I mean it wasn’t that great before but now all I talk about is meta stuff about the LoTeEv, which I don’t know if that’s good content or not? I guess I’ll never find out. Now we are going really meta. let’s goooooo — You walk into a room— the walls are covered in a strange green slime, while the room is cracked open to reveal sunlight pouring in. the floor to the ceiling is covered in vines and brush. You even see a nest in one of the vines, with a beautiful hummingbird floating above it. You walk down the hallway in front of you, and when you turn right you see something amazing. An infinite hallway with doors going down forever. a sign on the first door says META, you open the door and ffaallllll iiiinnnssiddeeee….. ^-^[welcome to meta! my name is Tune and ill be your guide through these halls. through the first window to your left you’ll see the LoTeEvs roots’] You look up to see that the thing talking to you is.. a hummingbird! The same one that you saw earlier! Ahh this makes sense now, NEST, as in META. You also look through the window to see a giant open room filled with twisted root from a towering tree in the center. on the top is a ball of flames anthrpomorphised with the eyes of a dragon staring downward. They’re looking at a small humble goat, with a bell around it’s neck and devouring the bushes that still scatter the floor. after a few minutes of eating the plants, hee looks up and sees the flaming ball. He gets a strange look in his eye: Ambition. The flaming ball isn’t a threat to him, it’s a challenge. he digs his hooves into the tree trying to climb it, and that’s when you notice a slight shake in the ground. ^-^ [come on! there’s so much more to see! you can come visit anytime too] You say that you’ll come back soon, and tune whistles to goodbye to you.— Wow.. reader.. I just had the craziest dream let me tell you about it. Wait, I already did? How do you know what it was about, I never said anything, strange. Anyways, I just woke up, I better get back to typing my LoTeEv. I open my laptop to find that while I was asleep words had been typed into my loteev, that’s strange. There’s also some mud on my keys?? What is this? Did someone break in? If they did, why would they type in my LoTeEv for me?? I walk over to the living room to see if there’s any signs of a break-in, and sure enough one of my windows is open! Aha! Wait… there’s no sign of forced entry, only a tiny animal coud fit through this window… Tune? Could it be? Was my dream… Real? The only person that could’ve known about my dream is tune, she was watching me the whole time. Reader? Do you have any information that I didn’t get? I am very confused… I guess I have to get back to writing my LoTeEv though, so I shuffle back to my laptop and sit down. Helllo I’m back! The strangest thing just happened and there’s a strange chill in the air… huh. I would tell you about it, but for some reason… I think you already know. Ok anyways, typing these Capital Letters At The Start Of Sentences Is Super Annoying. So section 311619 says that the Rai- \{Bzzt what does that number mean Bzzt\} Oh don’t worry, it is really me! It’s just the letters in CAPS, can I continue please? Yes? Perfect. Section 311619 of the Rainbow FluffySheep Handbook STATES that capital letters must only be used when emphasising GREATNESS, like the LOYAL READERS OF THE LoTeEv (ooh and also apostrophes) . perfect, that was getting annoying. wait, if LoTeEv is only half caps, then does that mean that this is only half great?? huh i didnt mean to do that, strange. its almost like… someoe from the future knew i would make that rule. wait… Tune only talks like the new rule i just made which means shes from the future! she is following the rule because it applies to her in the future… i dont know the repercussions of creating a time-travelling hummingbird but i hope that it is a good bird and will do no harm. sometimes i think that as The Shepherd Of The Sheep Of The Future i sometimes need an escape from my own reality, so I’ve made a tunnel in which i can travel to a blank universe or travel back to this one. it involves stacking portals so that i fall through them, going faster than light, thus travelling to the time before i created all of this. k, im going to go forward now. 3… 2… 1… (((>))) well did that work? i definitely didnt go backwards or else my rainbow fluffysheep laws wouldnt apply and id have to do caps still. wait, let me try something. tune. at the time im at right now, tune doesnt exist, or else that would be caps. which eaither means she is from a less distant future than this one, or… she died. i really hope the former. anyways, this time is strange. it feels empty, yet familiar. not empty enough. i want to travel across to a new dimension, because this one still has.. reminents of my old one, and it feels… wrong somehow. ill just pull out my dictionary and check the definition for the fifth dimention: THE 5TH DIMENSION DOES EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE BECAUSE THE SHEPHERD DECIDED THAT IT SHOULD. interesting, well i guess i better create it then, because it would be very useful. first ill pop back in time (((<))) section 55555 of the rainbow fluffysheep handbook STATES that the fifth dimension should exist, with code-accessible layers. securitee? make that code for me please, thank you. now ill just pop back (((>))) perfect. man its gonna be hard to put this LoTeEv back in chronological order to get it to you reader, but ill try my best. also, when i read that dictionary, did it say that i already have the 5th dimension? because since the timeline changed that would make sense for you wouldnt it. anyways, im just gonna pull out my code files and learn how to go to a new fifth dimension. k im back. (((new-layer=1))) perfect, the default layer is 0. in the manual it said that i auto reset back to my original time and layer everytime i come back to type, which means if i want to come back here ill have to manually do it, shame. i could ask securitee to change that one day, but for now im ok with it. oh guys i almost forgot to tell you! this new layer looks awesome. its completely blank, theres no forces acting on me. its not even white or black like you would expect, but its more… nothing. imagine if you were blind, alot like that. actually even better, look out of one of your eyes, and your seeing colors and objects. now close it. what are you seeing out of it? Blackness? Whiteness? neither actually, just… nothing. its strange like that. also, with no forces acting on me, im just kind of… floating. hopefully this doesnt permanently damage my spine or anything when i get back to gravity. ill be back tomorow and try some stuff in here, bye! I’m back now, it is the day after and i feel great! there is one thing that i noticed though… an empty blank canvas might seem great at the start, but you have to realise, most of the art and interesting things that people have created were to overcome a struggle, in fact i would even stretch it to all art that humans have created. Artists may have starting painting to fill the struggle of boredom, and believe me you should take that struggle seriously, because without humans would have accomplished much, much less. you probably could stay at home all day and live of the dole and eat cheetos and live a reasonable life, but why dont you? because you know that you would eventually get bored. boredom leads to jobs, which lead to progression as a species. lets get back to my example then, shall we? you may start art out of the struggle of boredom, continue getting better out of the struggle of wealth, when you realise that hobbies can be monetised your life outcmoe could really change. once your making money as an artist, enought o survive happily and feed your pets and help your family then you keep making art… why? because you go back to the struggle of boredom again. im still at the first stage of this, which is boredom. i decided to start this because i was bored, and for now thats how this continues. this LoTeEv may never become monetized, but maybe my future writings will. i would guess that 99% of artists never make it to the second stage. 99% of people continue their lives serving either the human race through work, or maybe evn other peoples hobbies and art. but the few 1% of us that end of turning what we love into our livelihoods, the number is fleeting. with big companies monopolising on everyone, buying other companies and merging, the chances for starting you own company is fleeting. why do i tell you this? because i couldnt decide what to do in my new fifth dimension layer. the only struggle for me there was boredom. and alot of the time, that isnt enough. i could imagine anything i wanted there. but why think up the cistine chapel when there’s no-one to share the experience of seeing it with you, and there’s no pain in doing it? anyone could think up something beautiful, but not everyone could put it into practice. if everyone could, the world would be oversaturated with perfect music, perfect paintings, and perfect design. does that sound worse or better than today? no humans could ever create such a supply of these things, only ai could. once we have ai surpassing humans at art (i suggest listening to battles – mirrored to see what humans think about ai) people will lose all will to live, wouldnt they? theres no chance to succeed at anything creative in such an oversaturated environment, just like my analogy before with the monopoly companies. maybe having a few great albums, a few great paintings to admire and to inspire us that one day we could do that, maybe thats enough. the reason i tell you this is to make you appreciate the ties we are in now. go draw a terrible looking dog, go play some chords on your old guitar you havent played for years, trying your best to sing, go write a poem about what matters to you now, because god knows youll need to read it ten years from now when you start getting nostalgic about the past. take the time to enjoy the era we are in now. i think we can all agree that we are in the best time so far in human history, the least painful, evil generation yet. but i propose that we may be in one of the best eras ever. the future, full of perfect ai creating, doing everything humans do now, but better. well just be remebered to them as the precursor, the comma from nothing to perfection. and once we get to that point, the hedonic treadmill kicks in. what can really bring us joy once we get to that point? why would i be writing this is an ai could write it infinitely better? why would you learn the guitar when an ai can play a perfect Tune? once we get to that stage, the only thing that we will have will be eachother. why learn the guitar? to show your friends! to play them a song, and too have them paint your pet. sharing our experiences wont be taken over by ai, with people reminicent about the past wanting to support people. i, for one, would rather listen to a song about someones life struggles, rather than a perfect song written by an ai. why? because listening to music isnt just about the instruments, the notes, the melody. its about the story. thee basic humans connections that we need to survive. have you ever wanted to buy something from your local shop instead of amazon because you wanted to support them, rather than a large cmopany? im bringing it back to this analogy because i think its nearly identical. the monopolous companies seem to us right now like one big robot using our money to grow. just like the ai. but the problem is, the human desire and greed for more will never surpass our desire to help others. if everyone bought from their local shop, amazon would go out of business, but it hasnt. im not trying to make you guilty for supporting them, because most people depend on the money they save to survive. but what about when ai and robots have completely automated everything? then, by all means, pay a dollar for your neighbors book, rather than the free encyclopedae spit out by your local auto-bookshop. because if were going to be happy, we need eachother. because in the end, thats all well have. anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk. just enjoy your life i guess. for now. cause if your under half the average age, its statistically going to get worse 🙂 maybe i need to add struggle to my new layer was my point. or else the entities inside will get bored. wait. maybe this is how earth was created? people always ask why theres pain and struggle in our world, and the answer is normally to advance our species, which is true. but what if the person that created us has access to everything, and they dont want to give it to us because they want us to not get bored? just a thought. anyways, im going to go feed my circle, bai! Head over to part 2! Share this: TwitterFacebook Blog Stats 94,887 hits
• Maja Back Lakic 6 september 2021
  Jag gillar bajs
• Josefin 6 september 2021
  THE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.comTHE LONGEST TEXT EVER(I think) the longest wall of text i think Advertise your LTE!| Click here!| Back to Main Site! Table Of Contents! (read left to right) Introduction Weird Poem Thing Press Refresh to Escape No one comes here! Spooky Quizzes This is getting long. Grape Pie and Organ Grinders! Frustration! Code: 343 of OFCHB! People hate reading. People actually READ this? Evil Cartoon Owls... Rhetorical Questions Code: 472 of OFCHB! Love, Joy, and Insane Chaos. TACO-2 Code 742: of OFCHB! Family Trip to: A Bar. Farewell loyal reader. Next Generation is DOOMED! Weird Sibling and Dead Stuff. Code: 843 of OFCHB! More people READ this? Ice Cream Trucks! Matrix: Reloaded EVIL dress/ Code: 666 Evil Graduation Pointless Signs of America! What else could I have done? JFK conspiracies Memories Moose's arch-enemy Horrible Family Vacation Subliminal Messages Fake Commercials Vast Breakfast Food Conspiracy It's good to be weird. Sugar Rushed Evils of Tanning Lazy Calculators Squirell's Arch-Enemy Not fair! Random, Vast Conspiracy Code: 888 of OFCHB! The Joys of Gambling! Cheeze-Its The Armadillo Episode... Evils of Smoke Dectectors. Need...Sleep... Healthy Competition OFC Lunar Colony! "Pure" Water Vast Puddle of Knowledge Code: 452 of OFCHB Super-Secret Message! Real Grape Pie? Vicious Downward Spiral Imaginary Squirell Money Hypothetical Conversation Life=Biscuits Fashion...and stuff. Infinite Possibilities "Meg" commercial The Asparagus Wars Santa is EVIL. Guest Rant (PSOCB) Opposite Day Evil Family "Bonding" Road Kill Adventures Mary Had a Little Lamb New Format... Wal-Mart is EVIL! Horrible Sorority Evil French Fries and "It" Here comes Elvis! Sugar Rushed 2: The Sequel PSOPC Bot and Strange Thoughts Evil K-Mart... Duck, Duck Goose! (Guest Rant) "Meg":Barbies=Reality TV! No Brakes = Tons of Fun! Aunt Jemima and Quaker Oats Warranties....mwa-ha-ha It's incredible! There are things down here I'd never even dreamed of! I'm gonna try and blow it up. Police Dispatch Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood: never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost? See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye. Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...*sniffle* The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...*waits for applause* okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...*cricket chirps* to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is organ grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an organ-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the organ grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the organ and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least kill the monkey with the organ and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I suck and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers *snicker* will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm...intersting. I put hyphens in both of his titles...it must be a conspiracy! I gotta go. Those TACO buttons don't make themselves, you know. I'm back again. And not so cheesed off about the whole tootsie roll pop thing. Right now, I have another twenty minutes on the Internet before I'm gonna watch T.V. And I can't think of anything else to do. So, predictably, here I am. It's not like I have anything better to do. Obviously, you know this. After all, look how long this text is. I wonder if I've made the world record? If I did, would I stop this? Why bother asking? I'll will most likely still be adding to this on my death bed. Hmmmmm...has any old, senile person ever written anything? Was it coherent? Did it make more sense that this text? Is it possible to make less sense? Am I enjoying asking retorical questions? Yes. Yes, I am. But I seriously wonder what something written by a senile person would be like. I've heard of poems and stuff written by people who were high, insane or paranoid. But never senile. Can a senile person write? Aren't they regressed to a child-like state? Does it even matter? Is anyone even reading this? Did I resume asking retorical questions? Do you care? Is this eating up time? I feel like I'm playing questions only on whose line is it anway. I probley should have capitalized something, or underlined but I'm feeling lazy...hey, you try to keep your two and a half readers happy! It's really stressfull. Someday, I'm gonna snap and just delete this entire thing. Gee, I hope not! I worked sorta hard on this. It's great for making random topics weave together to form an overall infrastructure of chaos. That made little sense. That's why it's here, and not some critically acclaimed site. Ooooooooooooo! I'm gonna quote from the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK again! Yep! I bet you were just breathless in anticipation. Okay. Here goes. Code: 472 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that this site in no way aknowledges the existance of other, better sites (hereon reffered to as the Losers) The Losers are a myth. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips (me again!) claims no knowledge as to where that particullary nasty rumor started, but confirms that this is the best site ever. It would be a sin against humanity for a better site to exist. Should you refuse to aknowledge the Patron Saint of Paper Clips as the ruler of the Internet, you will be subjected to punishment as stated in Code 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook (i.e. Experience vague, pain-like sensations when you're not paying attention) This has been a public service announcement. This is a test, I repeat only a test. Had this been an actual emergency, we would have bought up all the can openers and charged 3 cows and a pig for each one. I repeat, lock all you doors and windows, this is it. I repeat, there is nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. The end is not here. I'm going, you're on you're own! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm back!*smiles brightly* And apparantly delusional! Anyway, I just finished rereading my longest text ever. And I became inspired to talk about nothing. You see, I periodically read the longest text ever to check the constant downward spiral of my sanity. Hmmm...I seem to be entertaining myself though, even while reading what I wrote. Which is why I still go to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website. Because I am easily amused and have lots and lots of time on my hands. Maybe, some day far in the future (like next Thursday) I'll print a copy of this insane text. And then go door to door distributing it. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Whole families would gather around their front door, in breathless anticipation while they attempted to barracade me out. I can just see the whole community rising to thwart my attempts to spread love, joy and insane chaos. I probley wouldn't actually print this out (think how much paper it would take!) but if I do, only friends and enemies will receive copies. Hmmmm...maybe my condition is worsening. Or not. I'm still peeved about the cartoon owl from the Tootsie Roll Pop commercials. He is pure evil. TACO will eventually destroy him. Unless he has already been destroyed by an even more radical Anti-Cartoon-Owl group. I hope not. Or, would that be good? I suppose I could let someone else have the glory. After all, I'm not in this line of buisness for the fame, fortune and power. What line of buisness, do you ask? Why, the assasinating annoying cartoon characters buisness. (Actually I just question them untill they spontaneously combust, I ask lots of questions) So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury(that's you) I could not have possibly tortured "Mr. Owl" to death. I love owls. Hmm...I seem to be jumping from one subject to another more frequently. Either I am growing more comfortable with my on-line writing, or I am progressivly getting more insane and chaotic. I also am psyco-analyzing myself a lot today...hmmmm...I'm even saying "hmmmmm..." a lot. Just like a real psychologist. Hmmmmmmm. Time for another boring disclaimer!!!!!!! Code: 742 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that in no part does the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (That's still me!) actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. Some of the pages of this site contain a link encouging the two and a half people to e-mail the Patron Saint of Paper Clips. There may also be evil little links that are designed to confuse you. These links send stuff to someone named johnjones333@hotmail.com The Patron Saint of Paper Clips does not know who this individual is, but sincerly wishes that you send all your hate mail to him. Not that the aformentioned individual claims to have received hate mail (or mail of any kind) via a website link. Thank-you for your time. Remember to send your answers to my sanity quiz to the e-mail account, flamingchickens333@hotmail.com Oh, and once I refer to myself in the first person again, the handbook quote is over. I just thought that I might like to mention that. Oh. You're still here. I figured you rush right on over to e-mail me. Perhaps you don't have time to waste e-mailing me. HA! HA! HA! That's funny!!!! If you you don't have time to waste, what are you doing here?!!! Oh, who am I kidding. I figure that even the people I manage to lure onto my site from neopets don't even bother to come to this particular page. Maybe I should make the link come here directly...Hey! What a good idea! That way I can spread my love, joy and insane chaos to more people! I'm a genius. Gotta go, must lure innocent victems to the second most pointless site ever!!!! I'm back. And really angry, and confused. I've always known that I was weird, that's always been a given. But now I realize that I am considerably more normal than the rest of my family. Today we had a "family outing." Now, most families will go bowling, or putt-putt golfing. They may go to a resteraunt with an arcarde, or the movies or to a theme park. Not my family! No, we got the greatest family outing of all. We got to go to a bar and play pool!!!!!*waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Not only did we get world class cuisine (under-cooked hotdogs and over-cooked hamburgers), my little sister (age 10) got taught pool by someone I strongly supect is an ex-convict! Naturally when it was announced that we'd be eating dinner in this place, I could hardly contain my excitment(I glared at my mother and asked why we couldn't go to Pizza Hut) When we arrived, we were promptly served (after thirty minutes) In the meantime, we played a family game of pool(my parents played while my brother and sister and I watched) After two rousing rounds, our food came. The food was superb, (our food came the exact opposite of how we ordered it, and half of the onion rings were missing) Then we joyfully returned to our game(my sister and the ex-con played my mom) We spent hours there (from 5p.m.-7:15p.m.) There were many people that were the same age as me and my siblings (no one in the room but us were under 30) Us kids had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar ( I almost fell asleep during the last game I watched) As we left, there was a feeling of goodwill and fellowship between all(my sister locked me out of the car and wouldn't let me in untill I started yelling profanity in her general direction) The high point of the entire night was when my mother gave me $21 for my report card. She promptly borrowed $1 to help with the waitresses tip(This part I'm not being sarcastic about) All in all it was a night I'll remember forever (as the lowest point in "family outing"history, except for that time my mom dragged me to a church thing on the concept of truth.) My brother(age 13) even decided upon a new job he wants when he's old enough to work, a busboy at the bar. We had to tell him that he would probley have to wait untill he was 21.(Absolutly nothing about that statement was sarcastic) As you can see, I love my families outings(Not unless you're blind...or stupid) &#!#%&&!!!(*%$ WHAT THE %$#@ WAS MY MOTHER $#$#%$# THINKING!!!!!!!???? BRINGING $#$$# KIDS IN A BAR!? I know it was her idea, 'cause my dad hates it, too. My mom and my stupid little 10-year old sister loves it, though. *sighs* Why does my life have to be so weird? I'm leaving...now I'm back! And not so pissed at my weird family. Now is the time to mourn the loss of one of my most loyal readers (I think she's read the entire thing one time, which is more than anyone else has done so far) She has been banned from accesing any portion of the Internet, do to reasons that must remain confidental due to security reasons. If I told you, I'd have to kill you and all that stuff. So...now I am down to one and a half readers. Untill such time that I have more. I wonder why anyone would read this? You would have to have several characteristics that I possess. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. Second of all, you would have to have the patience to read through all of this. And lastly, you'd have to know where the heck this site is. I admit it. I haven't exactly advertised this site. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Some of my pages have stuff written in to make search engines recognize me, but it doesn't seem to be working. What must I do to rise above obscurity? I tell people I know about this site, but they either ignore this page, or don't even bother coming to the site in the first place. I suppose that is the bane of all authors. To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. *sniffle* Why must this be? Maybe I should just give up. After all, no one would really care if I quit updating this site. But I can't help but think of stuff like the evil over lord list and REALLY REALLY BIG BUTTON THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. You can read a little each day. And almost never finish. Also, I guess I still am trying to get the world record. I have heard some feedback suggesting that I make someway for people to remember where they stopped reading. It can be very confusing, especially if you weren't paying attention in the first place. Well, I dont want to organize this page, in any manner. This is chaos. And insanity. Not neat little text in classifiable rows, in alphabetical order. If you want neat, go to some other site(though, as mentioned in Flaming Chickens Code:472 there is no such thing as a site better than this one). Otherwise, I guess you're stuck with me. Awwwww...I'm touched! You didn't run screaming to another site, thankfull for the chance to escape this insanity. You're still here, which must mean that you'd rather be here than anywhere else! Hey, where are you going?! I thought you were gonna stay here and keep me company?! *drags reader back* See, I knew you'd stay! *gagged reader glares* What's that? I know this is the best site ever, thanks for the compliment! *reader starts inching towards freedom* I better go...I think that I may have a problem brewing. I'm back. And very concerned about this new, younger generation (all 10 year olds who were born in 1992) They are supposed to be the future. Instead they appear to be a nuclear armagedon in the form of a fifth grader. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. Using prior knowledge, I deduced that Mrs. X was full of crap. Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Mrs. X who participated in the Civil War. She immediatly replied "Clara Barton". I clarified, which countries fought in the Civil War. She answered: England, Russia, and (out of sheer desperation) Iraq. I believe that she was just listing countries she knows America has fought against. Now, correct me if I'm wrong...but Iraq? I don't know if Iraq even existed in the Civil War Era! Why on earth would we go have way across the world to fight them when we didn't even really need oil?!! Moving on, I finaly managed to coax my sister (I'm tired of writing Mrs. X) to tentativly guess that America fought in the Civil War. I mean, who'd a thought? America? Fighting in the American Civil War? In a moment of inspiration, I asked her who America fought. Her first guess was enslaved africans. Well, at least she knows that slaves were involved in the war. Before she could start listing all of America's enemies, I gave her a hint. I said "The Union fought..." With a crack, snaple and pop, some random synapses in her brain connected in the right order and she said "CONFEDERACY!!!" I was very proud of her, just as you would be proud of a two-year-old who has just announced: "I WENT POO-POO ON THE POTTY!!!!!" What I mean is, you wouldn't be very proud if the average person said that they just took a dookey on the toilet, and you wouldn't be very proud if they knew who fought against the Union in the Civil War. I confirmed that the Union was Northern and Free, and that the Confederacy was Southern and Slave. We resumed quizzing and she got every question on the worksheet correct. This is because she memorizes the questions. That way, she can pass the test without actually learning anything. You see, if you memorize stuff, you only have to remember that the answer to number 6 is Clara Barton for a week, rather than having to remember that Clara Barton started the Red Cross for the rest of you life. I sincerely appologize if anyone is offended by my view of memorization. I also would like such persons to immediatly leave my site. You don't belong here. You see...knowledge is good. If my sister...uh...Mrs. X were ever asked a question on the Civil War on a quiz show, she'd come up with nothing. With knowledge you can win money and the opportunity to look like a dork on national television. My sister is a big believer in the memorization system. I previous time when I was studying with her (American Revolution, this time) I was trying to help her remember the difference between the Patriots(Patriotic to America) and the Loyalists (Loyal to Britain) She didn't know what the word patriotic meant. I tried to explain. I asked her how you dress on the forth of july (she said nice) I asked what the colors red, white and blue were (pretty). I gave up in exasperation. More recently, I was trying to instill a sense of empathy and niceness in her. I asked her what the golden rule of christianity was. She didn't know. When I pressed her, she confessed she didn't know what chrisianity was. Completly defeated, I told her that it was the religion she practiced every Sunday when she went with her friends to church. This confirmed my suspicion that she only went so that she could have the use of the church's playground equipment. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Anyway, that's my rant on the new generation that contains my little sister. When someone of her generation runs for president, I'm gonna do a complete background check. If they're anything like my sister, I'm movin' to Canada. Gotta go...the Russian-Brittish-Iraqi-enslaved-Africans are coming to defeat the Mexicans. I'm back! *there's that darn cricket again* And I have a genuine question to ask all of my loyal readers *cough-cough* Okay, here it is: Is it normal for a non-gender specific sibling to carry around various dead reptiles (snakes, turtles, lizards etc.) Furthormore, is it considered accepted behavior to talk to these dead reptiles, in a cooey, baby talky kind of voice? Finnaly, is it expected for said sibling's non-gender specific parent to encourage such behavior, citing "I was just like that as a child" as an excuse? It's an honest question as I fear that my non-gender specific sibling is weird. Who am I kidding? My entire family is weird. It's just a matter of degree. Hey, by the way. I'm sorry that my last few entries have been only about my various family antics. Although I can't see why you care, because there is a large probability that you do not exist, because I don't think anyone is reading this anymore. How discouraging. People need to make the time to waste time. It's a time honored tradition. Who'd thought that I could use time that many times in only a few sentences? It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. I know, you were just crushed that nothing new was happening. It's a sad, cold, cruel world out there and you had nothing to relieve the monotony of it. *sniffle* I feel so sorry for you! Next thing you know, you're internet connection will die. Well, too bad! Do you know I never even had a computer untill just a few months ago (that's why I'm obsessivly writing here) So I won't pity you if you're computer dies for unexpected reasons. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) responsible for any faulty wiring or lack thereof in your computer. The Patron Saint of Paper Clips in no way wishes harm on your computer. Any derogatory statement is simply an opinion of an individual, not of the flaming order of the flaming chickens. Said order will in no way be held responsible for any damages, injuries, loss of life, limb, head, or organs. Okay, quote is done. Maybe I should put quotation marks around them...nah, too much work. But I probably will eventually get around to having a seperate page just for the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK. That way all the members (what members) can print out a copy of it for themselves (if they didn't get that copy in the mail) I guess I'm done for the day...I know. You want me to stay. It's okay. Because eventually, I'll be back! Seeya! I'm back. And once again suprised. When I was at a TAB poetry thingy (TAB is good TAB is great We love TAB) I met some new people. One of these people (who shall remain nameless untill such time that I have explicit permission to use her name) turned out to be almost as weird as me. As in...she read the ENTIRE Longest Text Ever. The whole thing. So far two whole people (to my knowledge) have read the entire thing, and a few people have skimmed it. That means I really can justify claiming to have two and a half readers! I'm so happy! That means my pointless obsession has actually entertained someone besides me! Perhaps, one day, far in the future, this will actually be a world record and random people will acutally voluntarily read this text every day. Or maybe not. The point is that it is nice to have readers. Or maybe it's not...I mean...won't the quality *snicker* of my work deteriorate if I am no longer writing for the target audience of me? If that happens, then no one will read this. And then I'll be writing for me again. And then the quality will rise. And then people will start reading. And then the quality will go down and the vicious spiral of good and bad will continue untill I either give up this text, or go crazy...er. In any case...I should probably find a topic. Yeah...a topic would be good. Or...I could just continue to write about finding a topic. Ooooo! I know a topic! Ice cream trucks! This has been bothering me for a while. You see...when it's hot, you want something cold to eat. Conviently, ice cream trucks come around during the hottest part of the year (it must be a conspiracy). As you may or may not know, small children swarm the ice cream trucks. The vendors even play whimsical music which I strongly suspect contains subliminal messages to make you hungry for ice cream. The vendors get oodles of cash, and the kids get ice cream. Now, in today's society of buying groceries on-line and getting them delivered, why hasn't any other food industry marketed this ingenius idea to bring the product to the consumer. I can just see Hot Dog, and Pizza trucks roaming the neighbor hoods, selling treats to hungry children...and adults. Of course, said adults would have to peel their butt-cheeks off the couch...but they'd have to do that for the delivary man anyway. The food trucks could even play music that made you hungry for their food. Then the problem with obesity in America would be blamed on evil food truck drivers as opposed to the harmless, benificient television and computer. We could all breath a sigh of relief as parents kept their children inside, away from the evil truck drivers and near the T.V. Gone would be the days when parents told children to play outside, it's a nice day. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. This, of course would expand the market for such products. This would lead to a better, more stable economy. Food industires would be buying cars, gas and music. Parents would increase the purchase of entertainment items. In return companies would make a profit, pay their workers better. The workers would then be able to afford more entertainment items and the upward spiral would continue, as opposed to the evil downward spiral of my writing. In conclusion, Ladies and Gentlemen...if you implement my idea, there will be peace and prosperity for all. As long as you don't mind a few more couch potatoes. Gotta go...I think I hear a catchy jingle. I'm back...it's been awhile since I've written here. A lot has happened. Like my EVIL school computer deleting my updates page. But it's all good. Especially since I just saw The Matrix: Reloaded. The following text may spoil the movie for you, so WARNING: do no read this unless you have already seen the movie. Okay. What I liked best was the philosophy on choices. (the mindless fight scenes were really cool, too). It's like this. In the beginning of the movie, Neo is having dreams about Trinity's death. Later, The Oracle tells him that he has already decided her fate. Towards the end of the movie, Neo chooses to tell Trinity to stay out of the Matrix, since he saw her die in it. She agrees, but only after seeing how important it is to him. After a horrific chain of events (is it coincidence, or fate) the people who will deactivate the secondary power source of the building Neo is infiltrating, die. So...the plan is going to fail. Unless someone does something, Neo, Morpheus and many others will die. Trinity, who is of course outside of the Matrix, knows this and chooses to enter the Matrix to save the day. The events of Neo's dream unfold. So...when the oracle said that the choice had already been made, she was completely correct. The moment Neo woke from dreams of Trinity's death, he made a choice. He would do everything in his power to keep his dream from becoming reality. So he kept her out of the Matrix, and she saw the problem, and entered the Matrix to fix it. If she had been in the Matrix, she would have likely been with Morpheus, never would have known about the plan's failure, would therefore not have been in the situation that resulted in her death. And the plan would have failed and Neo might have died, along with a large portion of the city (the building was set to blow if there was any intruders) So...Neo's choice to attempt to save Trinity triggered the sequence of events that led to her death. As Neo realizes all of this, through a nearly omniscient Architect of the Matrix, he makes another choice. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. Neo is told that he has two choices. He can save mankind, and doom Trinity. Or he can try to save Trinity and doom mankind. No guarantee that he'll succeed in saving Trinity. He goes for Trinity, makes it just in time to catch her body, and starts her heart back up. In return for not taking the easy route, he gains a power in the more or less real world. He can deactivate the machines, (squidies) but at great personal cost. The movie ends with him in a coma. Now, you must realize that I have described only one aspect of this movie of all movies. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the sheer coolness of the fight choreography, special effects and the plot. I highly recommend you see the movie yourself. I'm sorry that today's rant isn't random, insane or completely chaotic, but I must right my experience with The Matrix before I forget. I am so buying this movie when it comes out on DVD. I love it! You have to admit its sheer coolness. I mean, come on! It's the sequel to the movie that revolutionized the standard by which we judge special effects. I better stop typing before I have a heart attack...just remember...The Matrix has you...I'm back. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. You see...they feel that the only way to reward academic achievement...yada-yada-yada...is to force the smart kids to be ushers for Senior Honor Nite, and Graduation. Where is the logic in this? I for one, didn't know about such dire consequences for not deliberatly failing classes. It was bad enough that I was forced to "volunteer" my precious time (i could have worked on this site)...no...I was forced to wear formal attire. My school system is stuck in the past...and formal attire means...a dress...a white dress...(for those you who never bothered to find out...I am indeed female). So...for the first time in about 5 years...I wore a dress...and something that was complelty white. What cruel fate is this? To compound the EVIL situation...I was forced to wear feminine shoes. In other words...they hurt. And they pushed my toes together. Since I have a rather weird phobia of touching my own skin...this made my evening my own personall torture session. I think that such gender-specific torture should be deemed inhumane and abolished from our great society...of flaming chickens. Henceforth...Code: 666 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that under no circumstance will the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who) be forced to wear anything other than a t-shirt and preferably black jeans. Should you violate this right, you will become destroyed or possibly dizzy. I'm leaving now...I have some destruction to do. i'm back. from graduation. we had to get there one hour and fifteen minutes early because there was traffic. After standing around a lot...the ceremony started. Lots of people spoke. by the time I had to do my part (tell people where to stand before getting their diploma) it was dark. there were bugs. they liked landing on me. then...i got to go stand while people said a lot of stuff. i couldn't hear it because someone had put the speakers facing the audience. we clapped. the whole time, even during the name-calling, seniors were playing with silly string and beachballs. afterwards...they turned off the lights. there were lots of fireworks. i wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a cell phone. i called home, and waited another hour for my ride...traffic to the school was one way. i felt sorry for my dad. i am tired...but cannot go to sleep. i'll copy and paste this to my site. maybe the longest text ever. you will all suffer as i have suffered when and if you graduate. i cannot feel my feet. i hate dress shoes. I'm back. Today, I'm here to salute the Pointless Signs Of America! The PSOA have been whole-heartedly working for you, and what have you done for them? NOTHING! These so-called "pointless" signs are doing just what they were meant to do: entertain you! You cannot judge them simply because they have no apparant function. They expand your mind, making you think about all the things they could do. They could do anything they wanted to, if they just put their minds to it. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. Noone can do everything, so how can you expect a SIGN, with the I.Q. of toilet paper, to do everything. You people sicken me. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Which is exactly what it gets. If you expect nothing, and get nothing, you feel nothing. If you expect nothing and get something, you're happy. But, if you expect something and get something you feel nothing. And if you expect something and get nothing, you feel cheated. If you're following along, and not completly confused, you'll realize that it is better to be a pessimist than an optomist. Yep that's right. This entry went from saluting the PSOA to making a statement about my ideals. This has been a weird day. You can thank my associate "Meg" she came up with the PSOA acronym. Everyone, clap for "Meg".I gotta go...seeya later! I'm finnaly back! Today, I took a long look at this site, which is the acomplishment of almost a year of work. And I asked myself "How could I have better spent my time?" And so, in the interest of wasting even more time, I made a list. Here we go! Number One: I could have cured cancer. Not that I know anything about medicine...or cancer for that matter. But I'm sure that if I just would have put my mind to it, I could have done it. Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. Which would be boring. So I at least have an excuse for not doing that. Number Three: I could have studied and stuff. Uh...don't think so...Number Four: I could have learned to drive. This would have resulted in the deaths of numerous pedistrians...and I would still probably be wondering around in search of a McDonalds. Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. Gee...I wish I'd thought of that sooner. Number Six: I could have implemented one of several plans for world domination. Or, as an alternative, I could have ruined several plans for world domination that other people made. Number Seven: I could drive people crazy. Wait...aren't I already doing that? Scratch number seven. And on to: Number Eight: I could have...uhhhh...ummmmm...actually thought up these things before hand. Number Nine: Now it's just getting redundant, isn't it? Number Ten: This is the list that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on my friend. One person, started typing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue typing it forever just because this is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some person started typing it not...etc, etc. Okay...I admit it. I have officialy run out of ways I could have better spent my time. I don't think there actually are any. Except for maybe five and six. Now, those have possibilities. However, I am currently content to just sit here and type. For the benefit of you, the reader...who may or may not exist. Either way, I'm continuing to sort of entertain myself. I feel like I should be outraged about some topic or another. I just can't work up the energy to be outraged. Perhaps a nice, soothing mistrust. Yeah. I can work with mistrust. I definitly mistrust lots of stuff. Like organ grinders, and the evil conspiracies. Did you know, that Kodak was part of the conspiracy to assasinate John F. Kennedy. Now, some of you are probably thinking "Gee, Really?", or "Wow, I never knew that!" while others are thinking "Who's John F. Kennedy?" or possibly "Who or What is Kodak". I fervently hope that you're not thinking the last two...especially about Kodak. Kodak, as you may know, is a film developing company. And John F. Kennedy (JFK) was an alien bent on global domination. Or possibly a really good president who wanted to fly to the moon. Either way, he got assasinated. And ever loony in America decided that it was a conspiracy. Some even go so far as to claim that Kodak "changed" the pictures of the assasination to make an assasination in the bushes become a tree's shadow. I didn't know that they had such good technology back then. I have to wonder...why would Kodak do such a thing. Perhaps Kodak is actually a front organization for a shadowy governmental system that controls the entire world and didn't want mankind to obtain the freedom of the stars and so tried to sabotauge the space program even though it didn't work as well as they planned. Or perhaps not. Either way, Kodak is undeniably evil. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? You can just bet that they look at every one that get's turned in to them, judging blackmail value, and whether or not you could get arrested. It's just sickening, you can't even take a simple photo nowadays. Unless you have a digital camera, which are a symbol of freedom from the old ways and willing enslavement to the new ways. We can only hope that the digital camera manufacturers are kinder masters than the evil Kodak Lords. I better go...I think Kodak is tracing my site....I'm back now! And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! It's amazing, it's incredible, it's unbelievable. But true. Even more incredible, this time it's someone I don't even know! Wooooooo! I feel inspired and happy and other really good emotions and stuff. And so, I'll take a trip down memory lane, to the dark depths of the past, to when I decided to make this page. It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. In school, back before I even owned a computer, I'd type random words for long periods of time, 'cause I had nothing better to do. Once I got this computer, I decided to do something similar on my beloved site. But, it ended up making more sense than I anticipated (scary thought, huh). Oh, well...I tired of nostalgia. Back to the present. Right now, I'm just typing so that no one can say that I've been slacking off. I don't think I have any conspiracy theories...except pop-ups/pop-unders. Have you ever had the evil pop-up that says that if you click here, it'll get rid off all the annoying pop-ups? Isn't that sort of ironic? Could the pop-up blocker people have chosen a better means to advertise their product? It's like grand-theft auto 3's talk show, you know, the one where there are Citizens Raging Against Phones? Or CRAP, for short. And the lady representing them, calls the radio station...on a phone. It's stupid and ironic and just shouldn't exist in a better world. Pop-Up ad's help you get rid of pop-up ads? Insane, chaotic...hmmmmm...I wonder who thought of it? Was it on purpose, or was it just some mistake? It is now my civic duty to discover this ancient mystery, and reveal it to the uncaring world. Or maybe I'll go make a frozen pizza. Yeah. That sounds good, too. Since I'm not particualarly inspired at the moment, I should leave and let you gather what is left of your sanity. I just can't seem to stop, though. Okay...I can do it. I'm leaving. I'm back...and it's several hours later. I've decided to imortalize the stupidity of my dog, Moose. She is a heavy-set Yorkshire Terrior (12 lbs.) In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. Today, I met her arch-enemy. An enemy so terrifying that Moose cannot stop shaking. An enemy so hideous that Moose must destroy it at all costs. An enemy so dangerous that Moose fears it above all others. Now you may be wondering what horrible beast is Moose's arch-enemy. And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. You would be correct in your suspiciousness...for Mooses arch-enemy is...*dramatic drumroll*...a small, white, feather. Now, Moose has seen many feathers, birds even. But none have struck terror in her little moose heart like this particular feather. So...naturally I put her arch-enemy in my pocket and brought it home with me. This action has made her very suspicious of where my loyalties lie. She tracks the feather smell all over the house, and goes crazy whenever I take it out of my pocket. She even got her sister and mother in the spirt of things. Now her sister sounds an alarm whenever she sees the evil feather. Now, you may be wondering what is so terrifying about a small, white, feather. So am I. It doesn't smell funny, (I asked my brother, since I don't have a sense of smell), it seems perfectly ordinary. So, I've decided that Moose works for some secret government organization, and that the feather is the key to the destruction of the world, and I am just blithely letting it enter our home, so that it may furthur its evil plans to destroy the universe. That is the only possible explanation as to why it upsets her so much. Or...maybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (one...two...three..*crunch*). Whatever the case, I decided that the whole world, (or three of four random people) deserve to know that if the world and or universe are destroyed, it's the evil, little, white, feather's fault. Now I'd better go and torture my Moose with it...:) I am officially back. And you, the potentially non-existant reader gets a once in a lifetime chance to hear me rant and rave about my Horrible, Horrible Family Vacation. I know. You feel very, very honored. It's like this. My mother is a control freak, and she decided on the spur of the moment that we were going north to visit relatives. Later that day, she decided we were NOT going north, we were going south to a beach resort. Still later that day, she got offended at some trivial thing and decided that we weren't going anywhere at all. The very next day, she decided that we were going north, after all. So, we packed everthing up. Before we knew it, we were on the road. The first part of the trip was fairly easy. As in, I was half-asleep, hoping that we'd arrive while I slept. Then, in an inspired move, my brother talked my mother into letting him sit up front. That meant that my mother would be in the back, with me and my younger, eviler sister. Immediatly, my mother started complaining. It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. Then, she accidently woke our three yappy dogs up, and they relized that they were in a car. That meant only one corse of action for them. They started shaking and barked their little heads off. This annoyed my mother further, untill she asked, no, demanded that my father turn the car around so that we could go home. Unfortuantly, we had already driven 337 miles toward our destination. After much argument, my father was going to turn around, untill he realized that my mother was going to drop the dogs and me off, and then turn around and continue north. This seemed slightly unpracticle, so we ended up not taking that 337 mile detour. We eventually reached our destination after 16 hours of virtually non-stop driving. We got there, we ate. We slept. My mother visited relatives. And so the week went by. I got to go to a huge library, and see Terminator 3 at the local theater. That was the high point of the entire trip. The last day, we were deciding where to eat. My mom said that she didn't care. So my dad picked a steak place. My mother tried to order a mushroom-swiss burger...only to discover that the place had no swiss-cheese. So she decided on a salad, only to discover that they didn't have her favorite salad dressing. After much deliberation, she decided that she wouldn't eat. After complaining how hungry she was, and about the poor quality of the resteraunt, she walked out of the resteraunt, instructing the rest of us to "enjoy our meals". And I wonder where my little sister gets her annoyingness. Not that my mother is annoying...just set in her ways. The whole meal thing was about the only interesting thing to happen during the week. On the way home, we had gotten approximatly 4 hours into the trip when my mother predicatably decided that we had to go back and eat at the 50th aniversary of her favorite ice cream place. Needless to say, we ignored her. Oh, and when my sister had to go to the bathroom very badly during a traffic jam, my mother had the good taste to making hissing/water noises to make my sister's problem worse. She claimed that my little sister always did it to her, and she was getting pay-back. Between her bickering with my sister, and obsessivly playing neopets games, I don't know what to do with her. Anyway...that was my family vacation rant. It sucked. No suprise. At least it's over. Sorry if I complained a lot. If you don't like it, start your own longest text ever. Anyway, I promise to go back to my usual routine the next time I rant here. I thought of a topic on the way home, but forgot it. Seeya. I'm back! I know, I took you completly by suprise. You thought you'd gotten rid of me. *cheesy super-hero voice* Well, fear not, random citizen, for I, PSOPC am here! *normal voice* Today I have a very important to discuss with you in this: PERFECTLY NORMAL PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCMENT. Yes, that's right. It's time to warn you, the viewer...er...reader...about the evils of various stuff. Today's lesson is: subliminal messages . That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. Now, I'm sure you've at least heard of subliminal messages , right? No? Well...prepare to be enlightened. Subliminal messages are an advertising technique that puts hidden pictures and words into a main image. You don't see them, but your subconsious (dreaming) mind does. Your subconsious mind acts on whatever it is told. What does this mean to you? It means that WAL-MART TV IS EVIL! EVIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!! Why else would they invest all that money to show commercials in their own store? Because they put subliminal messages in them, of course! Subliminal messanging also explains the successes of certain fast-food resteraunts, and brand name items. BEWARE YOUR TOASTER OVEN! Okay. That had nothing to do whatsoever with subliminal messages...it's just cool to say. Anyway, only watch wal-mart if you WANT to be subliminaly entertained into purchasing a new set of TUPERWARE, even though your old set is PERFECTLY fine. This has been a public service announcment. Pretty cool, huh? Uh...you don't have to take the subliminal stuff seriously. It's true, and all, but I have no proof about wal-mart, or certain fast food resteraunts. It makes sense, though. Wal-mart TV is evil. You cannot deny it. Seeya...hmmm..I wonder if there's subliminal stuff in my computer...I'm back. And I feel that it's time for a FAKE commercial break, for the highly informed, obviously brain-dead consumer. And now, a word from our non-existant sponsor. Ketchup: The only food that you'll want to eat after traveling to the 5th Dimension. It's been practically proven that Ketchup transforms into a highly intoxicating (non-addictive) delicious substance upon returning from the 5th Dimension. Stock up now with our Valu-Pak to recieve 3-metric tons of Ketchup, all for the low, low price of your brain, since you're obviously not using it anyway. Then, just wait for technology to "catch-up" (get it, catch-up, Ketchup?)so you can travel to the 5th Dimension like our scientists almost did. (Next Commercial) Get ready fo: Faux's new "reality" TV show, "How Low Can We Go?" It's about six contestants who compete to create the worst, least likely "reality" TV show. The winner not only gets the million-dollar prize, they get the chance to produce the show they created. Remember: if the show sucks, it's their fault, not ours!(Next exciting commercial!)And for all the idiots out there: Try new and improved Dum-B-Gon! Dum-B-Gon stimulates brain activity, making you up to 10 times smarter! Not only that, Dum-B-Gon: stimulates weight loss, cures "any" illness, does simple houshold chores, never leaves the toilet seat up and is the perfect gentle companion for your kids. How can you pass up this revolutionary new product? It's yours for only 3 bi-monthly payments of $3.95 ($3,95,000 on days ending in "y")Don't forget, Dum-B-Gon is practically guaranteed!* (*Not a guarantee) (Next commercial)Have you ever wondered why food sometimes goes bad in your fridge, even if you've only had it a few years? It's because of the "evil little faeries with sharp little teeth." These "faeries" sprinkle your food with highly toxic "age dust" and ruin a perfectly good four-year-old meatloaf. How do you stop them? With our patented "spray". Our "spray" kills over 99.9% of "faeries" (which are much to small to see) Our "spray" also kills most disease causing agents, like rats, or pigeons. WARNING: Leave food sit in an open, well-venilated spot for a week before eating. And now, back to our featured presentation. Wasn't that semi-entertaining? I bet you wanna go eat some Ketchup covered Dum-B Gon right now, while watching "reality" TV. Just make sure you "spray" your food first. Pathetic, wasn't it? Oh, well. I was bored, and a dilligent reader suggested I make fake commercials, so...therer they are. Happy? Good. I'm leavin', for now. I'm back. And I'm willing to enlighten you, the potentially you-know-what reader. Today, I was checking out some weird news. At one point, I read an article that stated that it had been proven, conclusivly, that Kansas was flatter than the standard pancake. The researches even used highly advanced technololgy to map the surface of a pancake and compare it to documented geology of Kansas. Some people disagree, the director of the Kansas Geological Survey said "I think this is part of a vast breakfast food conspiracy to denigrate Kansas. It's a cheap shot." So...doesn't that make you want to take Kansas' side (I sincerly appologize if you are from Kansas). It just seems extremly weird (and worthy of mentioning) that this semi-important guy from Kansas believes in a "vast breakfast food conspiracy". Makes you think that the long held belief that Kodak conspired with the JFK assasin(s) is normal. Another article claims that an anitseptic turned a polar bear purple, drawing large crowds of people. I sure hope other zoos won't copy them. Before you know it, we'll have orange alligators, pink tigers and blue lions. School children won't be able to correctly identify the color of a zebra. Random people will think they've gone crazy, after a seemingly innocent visit to the zoo. It's wrong, I tell you. A complete and total degregation of our societies values. What values, you say? The basic moral belief that Polar bears should be WHITE. Unless we spray-painted the snow purple, too. Then it would be okay. As long as the bear blends in, you know? Speaking of animals, there's a cat in California who is a kleptomaniac (likes to steal stuff). He sneaks into neighboring homes, and takes clothing, wrapped christmas presents, and anything he can find. He then leaves them under his owners car. Okay, better leave. I'm back. And I don't really have a topic today. I'm just bored. Sometimes I just do this, you know? Start typing without any idea about what it is I intend to say. Maybe I subconsiously DO know what I'm doing here, but refuse to admit it to myself. Or maybe I am monumentally bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment. Either way, I'm here. You must be pretty bored, too. Otherwise, why on earth (beta, krpto, zkdjf, Planet X, whatever) would you be here? It would make no sense. If you have something better to do, why wouldn't you be doing it right now? I would be. But, maybe that's just the difference between you and me. Yeah. That must be it. Unless you're bored. Then I completly understand. I need to find a topic. Here, topic, topic, topic! Come on, I won't hurt you, I promise! *hides large ax behind back* Come here, topic! Why are you afraid of little ol' me? *sigh* There are no topics anywhere near me. Kinda like me and "Meg" webcomic we are trying to do. It's called Hit-Or-Miss, any topics, plot, etc. are completly accidental and are not the fault/responsibility of the creators. That was sort of a topic, even though it was sort of random. Which is what I do best. Okay, I'm done with that litte commercial. What now...hmmmmm...should I share with you more of my paranoid/delusional conspiracy theories? Or have I been doing that too much lately? Oooooo! I know, I'll start of list of why it's fun/good to be insane/weird! #1You can say or do anything and normal people will agree with you in the hopes that you'll be satisfied, shut up, and go away. Far away. I will show you an example with this completly true stuff that I experienced several years ago. ME: My vicious, psychotic, flesh-eating bunny-rabbit wants to rule the world. RANDOM PERSON: Uh-huh, that's nice. ME: Yeah, but I told her that she'd be a terible ruler. I mean, she traded Asia for a carrot! And she doesn't even LIKE carrots! RANDOM PERSON: You don't say? ME: Yep. She also is the goddess of red jello. RANDOM PERSON: *head explouding from sheer insanity* As you can see, I was a very weird child (this happened in elementary school...uh...except for that head-explouding part). Okay...on to: #2 You can get out of practically anything by saying: a)It's against my religion b)I'm allergic to that. c)I have an extremly irrational fear of that. d)I already did that in a past life and it sucked. e)My psychotic bunny predicted I'd die doing it. Unfortunalty, several of those reasons LEGITAMITLY apply to a certain activity I do every Tuesday, which WILL NOT BE NAMED HERE LEST I GIVE IT POWER OVER ME! I'm allergic to parts of it, have irrational fears about others and I'm pretty sure it's against my Jenny religion...along with eating mashed potatoes, or potatoes of any kind. I'll add that to the FLAMING CHICKENS HANDBOOK. Thou shalt not eat spuds. Hmmmm...time for #3You can obsessive over ANYTHING, and people will think nothing of it. I, personally, am obsessed with, kitties, bunnies, bats, this website, drawing, making intriate little patterns with strings, doing mildly repetitive activities, being weird, apparantly making lists and cheese...and chickens...and flame. Fire is good. Fire is free. Fire is my friend...until it burns me. Then it must die...painfully. And on to:#4You make your friends look normal in comparison. And #5: You can give each of your pets several weird names such as: Ringling-Raison-Bailey-Suzana-Midnight-Schultz, Squirell, Moose, Moose-Moose, Moosey-Moose, Linzey-Moose, Muffin, Squirell-Muffin, Yabby-Doodle, Abby Normal, Wiggle-Baby, Wiggle-Muffin, Witle-Baby, Cheese-Monkey, Muffin-With-Squirell-Juice, Squirell-With-Muffin Juice, Moosey-Juice, Squirell-Monkey, etc. Now, wasn't that a fun list!? Doesn't that just make you proud to be weird? I should make bumber stickers saying that. Proud to be weird. It'd be cool. Anyway, gotta go! *yawn* I'm back. Last night I was super-charged with lots of sugar and not a lot of sleep. I ended up writing things during the time of night when EVERYTHING is hilarious, including the word sheep. To compound things, I wasn't alone, and things just escalated. The following is everything I wrote during that sugar-coated time period. Some are answers to e-mails, the rest are just stuff I wrote. Definitly. THen we go to library. Guess what? Me and Josh ate lots and lots of sugar, and it's late at nite and everything is funny but we can't laugh 'cause everybody is sleepin' so it's even funnier but ever since we drank the water we sobered up even though we weren't drunk but we ate sugar...lots and lots of sugar. MOstly donut cake. Okay. JOsh says it was only one piece of cake. WE got it at Wal-mart. Or his mom did. OR something. Goodbye...oh, and the fresh chicken wings might be to blame. they were special wings. I hope I remember doing this. I think it's pretty funny. > You have blue hari..*gigles* I like hair. Josh says I probably won't remember writing any of this, but I can't sleep. THe cake was good. aSk anybody. Big Brother may be listening right now so I beter go. They're listening for a secrret...no it's cause of a secret. But the secret doesn't exist so they are stupid. *g8ggles* bye. Yes. Megan has hair. I've seen it. *giggling* It's very, very late at nite. ONly not really. i like sugar. NO, wait. It's early. WE have been having very profound thoughts lately. We think. THey might havve been important, but we keep forgetting them. We're not sure. Josh wants his thought back. *sniffle* i do, too. It's not fair. I think mine involved a jaunty song to sing. But I couldn't have sung it 'cause it would have woken everyone up and they would have called me inconsiderate. I have to get up really early to leave for home. I should be asleep. *gigles* It milght have been a sugar rush 'cause now we're having a sugar crash. OR, maybe it's the writing. Okay, maybe it was the ranch dressing instead of the special, fresh buffalo wings. But they really were'nt buffoal wings 'cause buffalo's don't have wings...cause they come off when they are babies, JOsh says so and he must be right causse he's been having Profound Thoughts even though he cannot remember them. But, the wings were'nt really special. I don't think. Maybe we're just really, really tired and had sugar. I don't want to play the stupid animal war card game 'cause the stupdi bear gets eaten by an eaagle.. ...goodbye ssslllee0yyyyslllllllleeeeeeeepppppppppppppyyyyyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiissssssssssssss gggggggggoooooooooooooddddddddddddd............. As you can see, I was in a very interesting state of mind. I hadn't had a genuine sugar rush since I was 11. It was fairly fun. Although I acted like an idiot. Oh, well. I have more stuff to write, but I gotta go right now. Stay tuned to hear my thoughts on tanning, and an evil card game, and who knows what else...Okay I'm back. Here's what I wrote this weekend: Woooooo! 5000 hits! Aren't I special? *sigh* I can't think of anything to write. But I must. I must defeat the sister site of the Longest Text Ever! I mean, I've been doing this much, much longer than the other person. Hmmmmm...monkey. Why do weird people (myself included) obsess about monkeys? And, are monkeys spelled monkies? It just looks weird. Like a division of mounties made entirely out of monks. I bet it's spelled monkeys. It looks right. Maybe I should use spell-check. But...that'd be a lot of work, unlike ranting, raving and rambling. Hey, it's the 3 r's! No longer does school teach use reading, riting and 'rithmitic, it now teaches us ranting, raving and rambling! (and redundancy!) After all, isn't that basicly what the best teachers do? It sets a perfect example for you young, impressionable minds. Those are the best kind. *yet another highly dramatic, time-consuming sigh* I need a topic. A good one. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I'll rant and rave and ramble about the EVILS of sunlight. Most people actually like to spend long periods of time exposing their vulnerable skin to the harmful rays of the sun. These people have obviously suffered major brain damage from their prolonged exposure to the sun. The actually think that their skin's efforts to protect them are ATTRACTIVE. It'd be like someone thinking that scabs are atractive, 'case they protect you from disease. Then everyone would cut and scrape themselves to be covered in scabs. That's exactly what tanning is like. Purposly damaging the skin so you can look "attractive". Now, a long time ago, people were sort of smarter. They avoided the sun at all costs. They associated tans with hard, manuel labor. Then, some fasion bimbo went on a fasionable safarii to get some fasionable furs, or whatever. When she came back, 'lo and behold, she had a tan. This resourceful young vanguard of fasion decided to cover her extreme embarassment by acting like she meant to horribly damage herself. And because she was the head fasion bimbo, everyone agreed that the look was definitly "in". So, everyone went to the beach and got tans. Girls began wearing skimpier, and skimpier bathing suits. Men, of course, had no complaints. (Though whether it was the tan or the skimpy suits, no one will ever know.) As you read this Historicly Accurate Anecdote, you must realize the parallel between it and the fable The Emperoro's New Clothes. Someone did something incredbly stupid, but because they were powerful, everone acted like it was a stroke of genius. And the preceding generations became brain-washed (possibly through subliminal messages in sun-tan lotion commercials) to believe tans were expected. Those few who actually could think and avoided the sun were considered to be outcasts. I don't mean to insult you if you DO have a tan. I am simply explaining why I, personally, refuse to swim, go to the beach, sunbathe, leave the house, etc. Alrighty then. I'm gonna quit for now. I'm back. I'm so very, very tired. School has been on for four days now. I have three very hard academic classes. They give lots and lots of homework. Two and a half hours of homework (total) to be precise. I get home from work at 5:30p.m. and eat dinner. Then I do my homework. I get done at 9:15. Then I wait for my mom and dad to stop playing Collapse II so that I can get on. I usually have less than 30 minutes. It sucks. I can't really work on this site even though I now have a more in depth understanding of variables. I learned this from my calculator. I made a virtual pet for it. It was fun. I'm tired. Did I mention that, yet. My calculator is nifty. Sometimes, it is lazy. It tells me stuff like: "Warning: More Solutions May Exist" and "Questionable Accuracy". So...it doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. Geee....that is comforting. I love my calculator, though. It does all my Math for me. I hate Math. Math is so picky. In English, and stuff, if you miss one little detail, at most you lose partial credit, but you usually get it all right. In Math, one teeny, tiny little mistake will make you get the entire thing wrong. I tend to make those tiny mistakes, and get bad grades, even if I understand the concepts. I hate Math. I'm tired. Are you tired. I sure am. Guess what I wanna do. How did you ever guess? That's right, I wanna sleep. Why can't I? Hmmmm...good question. I think I'm so tired I can't sleep. Plus...I gots oblimagations...obligaton....obligations to this site. yeah. thats it...i so tired...bye-bye. I'm back. And more than slightly embarassed. Today my frazzled-brain produced something that is decidedly Jenny (that's my more or less "real" name). I was contemplating how my heavy load of books made me like a bulldozer and than I was about to suggest to my friend, "Meg" that we invent one. Then I realized that the buldozer already HAD been invented. That's how I knew it's name, picture and what it did. That is just...pathetic. School is taking its toll. *sigh* *sniffle* *snort* *insert word that is a sound that begins with an "s" here* I don't have much time, so, I must be brief. I'm not sure how I CAN be brief since I have absolutly nothing to say. The best way to be brief is to quit now. Right now. Which is what I'm about to do. Any miniute now. I promise. Okay. Bye! *sigh* My dogs are just weird. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? You know, the small, white feather. Well, my squirell now has an arch-enemy. At least her's makes sense...sort of. Her enemy is a fake Yorkshire Terrior (same species as her) made entirely out of goat hair. She HATES and FEARS it. She'll shake and run from it, then suddenly dive and bite it's head. She goes crazy if someone holds it, 'cause it's getting attention and not her. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Maybe she just doesn't like goat-smell. In any case, she is clearly insane. Just like everyone else in my family. In other news, I participated in the Second Battle of the Asparagus Wars and chronicled them here. I'll add a link to the main page when I get around to it. It gave me new insight into how weird I am. I fought with vegitables, covered myself in bubble wrap, groveled before the Great Banana and dodge skittles and flying doughnuts and rubber chikens. The entire message board was like one big insane asylum. Needless to say, I felt right at home. Well, seeya *waves brightly* I got to go to my Grendel (really cool book) project for school. I's making fake soundtracks like the teacher told me! BYE!!! Okay...I'm back. Today's rant is a panic rant. There are not going to be conspiracies...or humor of any kind. I think. *let the panic begin!* IT'S NOT FAIR! Why do I have to work year round? I only signed up for a semester. I was looking forward to having A elective, while everyone else was enjoying three or four...or even more. Oooo..I'm a poet, and don't I know it? In any case...it's awful. It's bad enough to go to school, leave school, go to work, leave work, do homework and then wait for my dad to get off of the computer so that I can do stuff. I want SOME free time. That's all. Is that too much to ask? I spend from 8-5 doing what everyone else wants. When is it MYturn? Next semester will be almost exactly like this one. Even though my schedule is technically supposed to be completly differnt. You see, my school has "block" scheduling. That means I take four classes this semester and four different classes next year. But one of my classes is work, and two others are horrible year-round classes. So next semester I'll still have work, AP Lit, and AP Physics. It's not FAIR. Physics is so FREAKIN' hard! I don't understand it. I have no problem with Lit. Okay. Work. I love my work, I love the kids I work with. But I HATE spending three hours of every day in a "class" when everyone else's class is only an hour and a half. I don't care if I have to ride the bus home if I stop work. I don't care if I'd get home only an hour or so before I normaly do. I want an elective. Maybe. I think. All I know is that I've been assuming one thing while the person in charge has been assuming a completly different thing. Neither of us thought to question the other. And so I'm in deep doo-doo. *sniffle* I just want to have some FREAKIN' variety in my daily grind, you know? I don't WANT to do the same thing for an entire year. Yeah, I know, regular schedule schools do that. I pity them, I really do. I've spent the past three years of my life EXPECTING each semester to be like a mini-year. I DO NOT LIKE CHANGE! This is just way too much of a change at once. I don't want year-round classes. I don't want a full year of work. I don't want to be in this mess...I'm going to bed. I'm back. I don't have much of a choice about the whole work thing. Plus, the kids at the daycare (where I work, obviously) say that I'm "cool to talk to". That makes me feel alll warm and fuzzy inside. Like a muffin. They just like how I know lots of pointless laws and random facts. Okay. ON TO THE CONPIRACY OF THE DAY!: I've had this nagging fear that I am part of some random but vast conspiracy (about what I'm not sure but it must be vast). Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. (In a very vast sense) And: did you ever notice that the word "conspiracy" is vastly similar to the word "constipation". I only mention this 'cause I've accidently spelled constipation instead of conspiracy a few times. (on accident, vast number of times) Hee-Hee! Isn't vast a funny word? You can just picture sterotypical pirates saying, "A vast ye mateys!". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sure is funny:) You don't agree? Shame on you! Code: 888 of The Flaming Chickens Handbook states that The Patron Saint of Paperclips (still me) is always right. ALWAYS. If the facts beg to differ, than the facts are wrong. End of story. Seeya. I'm back. I've been playing one of the new neopets slot machines (black pawkeet). I'm completly and totally addicted. Gambling is so much fun! I've won 500 np, at least and I'm on a roll. Now sure, I could have won more than 500 at some game in which you don't have to pay to play. But, what would be the fun in that? I even came up with a mathematical explanation for why gambling is fun (while I was eating a hyper-speed dinner, thinking nothing of getting back to the slot machine). Okay. If you don't understand the concept of numbers less than zero, (negative numbers) just skip this part. Imagine a number line that points in the positive and negative direction. When I start playing a game, I am on 0. I have neither won nor lost money/neopoints. When I win 500np on a normal game, I move to the 500 point. There is exactly 500 units of distance between the two extremes of winning amounts (0 and 500) BUT! When I play a gambling game, there is a possibility that I'll lose everything, so I start on negative however much NP I have with me. If I had 500np with me, I'd be at-500. Then, when I win 500 additional np, I move to the 500np point. The distance between the two extremes of how much I could have won is 1000np, making me feel like I've won much more than if I'd played a normal game. Did you understand that? Good. I probably won't later. But that is irrelevant. Goodbye! I am back. And I hava a very, almost special rant for you. The previous sentence made absolutly no sense. Good for it. In a recent article, humorist Dave Barry discussed the addictive quality of the snack food, Cheez-Its. Naturally, I had many mixed feelings, primarily disgust, as I have not voluntarily eaten a Cheez-It in quite some time. They're disgusting, bland and definitly not made of cheez, whatever that is. My family has always bought Cheez-Its, to the point of making me physically sick at the thought of eating one. (To this day, however, I will almost literally kill for a box of Cheez-It party mix, as it is a rare commodity at my house.) Fortunatly, my mom recently finnaly switched our snack food preference. To Cheese Nips. Say it. Out loud. What does it sound like? When you look at them they are identical to the evil little Cheez-Its. The only difference is the taste, which I enjoy, since it is new and different. What I want to know is this: are there no intelectual property rights in the world of food products? I mean, don't you think the creators of Cheese-Nips had a box of Cheez-Its out when they were designing their product? It seems like blaggerent plagerism. The only reason the makers of Cheese-Nips don't get sued is because of the tast difference and Cheese Nips are made of real "cheese" rather than cheez. It makes you think of Name-Brand vs. Generic cereal brands. They are the samething, with the same look, and almost same name. But people buy name brands. Why, because they assume it's better quality. Plus, boxes are more convient than bags. A profound statement, if I ever heard one. Any way, I'm leaving to eat some Cheessy goodness! I'm back. Apparantly my standards of weird have gone up. This morning, my Mom came home from work. She was upset, because she had accidently run over an armidillo. She said she hurt it the first time, and wanted to put it out of it's misery, so she went back and ran over it 11 more times. But it's legs were still moving and it was alive. She was extremly upset. When I related this story to my friends (including "Meg") they thought it was hilarious. They couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was sad...and normal. They particularly liked how I said that she went back and ran over it 11 more times. I'm not sure why. Of course, when I next saw my Mom, she retold the story to me, several times. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. She didn't think it was weird, either. Perhaps my family is just so weird, we've lost all sense of perspective. Or maybe it's everybody else that's weird. I just don't know. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know either? Hmmmmm...what is this world coming to? Oh, by the way, I was paid a decent compliment today. One of my friends (who laughed at the armidillo story) named Tonileigh said "Jenny (that's me) is weirder than the average Psycho." and " You think Jenny's weird? Wait till you see her in angry mob form!" Now THAT'S just weird. "angry mob form"? That just sounds nifty! I can clone myself and form and angry mob? In anycase, this was particularly funny because Tonileigh is one of my "normaler" friends. Although I tell you she can't possibly be normal, since she hangs out with me. Anyway, I'm gonna go. I gots stuff to do! I'm back. If you'll look toward the bottom of this page, you'll notice that I added a nifty little thing called the "babel fish". It will translate any thing, to anything else. Ain't it nifty? What's really fun is to translate an English saying, like out of sight, out of mind. Then, when it's in German, or whatever, translate it back to English. It's so completly garbled, it's funny. For instance, I wrote: "I am the Crazy Taco!", and translated it to German. I then copied and pasted the German and put it in the text box. I translated it from German to English and got "I am the Moved Taco!" See? Hours of completly useless fun! This has been my hourly Public Service Announcement that I only do when I feel like it. Seeya! I'm back! Woooo! And do I ever have a topic today! I've been a paranoid, conspiracy seeking mood lately and the newest threat to my sanity is: smoke detectors! Come on, think about it! In all those 911 shows, people wake up and their house is engulfed in flames. The smoke detector either never went off, or went off and the people just slept through it. Okay, fire is loud. And hot...and smoky. If you can sleep through a raging fire, close enough to set off the smoke detector, then you are definitly going to sleep through the smoke detector. Plus, the fire gradually gets louder, and hotter, and smokier. The sleeping person will gradually get used to it (and incorporate it into their dreams). By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. My point is that smoke detectors have very little value in home security. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. But untill that day, the concept of the smoke detector is useless. If you're awake to hear it, chances are that you've already noticed the smoke, fire and eminent danger. If you're asleep, the fire will wake you. So, that leads us to the evil paranoid conspiracy I thought of the other night. What if the smoke detectors have tiny litte cameras in them? That would explain that annoying green little blinkie light in them. Unless, of course, the government was smart enough to have cameras without the blinkie light. In any case, wouldn't the blinkie light help night-vision cameras see in the dark? It only takes a little light to help those thingies, and smoke detectors provide more than a little. I can even see the shadow of my hand on the wall from the light those things shed. It's annoying. Here I am, trying to get a decent nights sleep and there's this green light that periodically blinks to red directly in front of me. It's a small light, but it's sooooooo annoying. There MUST be some sort of conspiracy involved, 'cause if there is, I can get rid of the EVIL thing! So, fellow conspiracy nuts: Take down the evil governmental safety device and take it apart. If you can still think during all that incessent beeping, you'll probably find evidence that I'm really paranoid. Or possibly right...that would be scary. In any case...I guess that smoke detectors are a neccesary evil...but...WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE THAT STUPID LIGHT? Does it serve an obvious purpose? No! That's why it MUST be EVIL! You cannot deny the logic of my thinking! Now...I'm gonna go and worry about the light on my toaster oven...seeya! *sighs dramatically* I'm back. It's not fair, ya know? Each Friday, I wait (all tingly with anticipation) for the weekend so that I can stay up 'till the wee hours of the morning and sleep past noon. But my idiotic body has an automatic alarm clock, or something. During the weekdays, I get about seven hours of sleep (usually less) and wake up at 6:11 a.m. Yep. Now, some of you are probably calling me a whiner, 'cause you have to get up at 4:30, or whatever. And lots of you are probably gloating 'cause you don't have to get up 'till 8:30. The reason I have to get up at 6 something is that I...I...I ride the bus to school. Yeah...I know...pathetic. (Believe me, though, you never want to see me drive...I get easily distracted by clouds and signs saying FREE KITTIES!...kitties are hugable...but if you hug them...they'll scratch your eyes out...so then you have to hiss at them and establish dominence...but kitties don't like that...even though dogs do...but kitties are obviously not dogs...even though they are fuzzy.) So...my lack of a car and driving skills force me to use the bus, which comes for me 45 minutes before my school even starts. It's stupid. It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, then I can go back to bed. Now...I bet you're wondering why I don't just wake up a few minutes before I have to go. My sister. My evil, EVIL sister. That's why. She's evil. SHE has to get up at 6:11 to put on make-up, do her hair and basically annoy the heck out of me. So rather than battle her over the concept of getting dressed in the dark, I get up. Oh...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Back to the original topic! So...when the weekend rolls around, I'm fairly exhausted. But, my stupid internal alarm clock is starting to wake me up around six. I can usually fall back asleep (if I don't panic and think I'm late for school), but the stupid thing wakes me up again exactly seven hours after I originally fell asleep. Which is why it's not even 10:00 and here I am, typing. Which I suppose may be a good thing, seeing as how I'm currently in a Longest Text Ever Rivalry with Galaxy Dreamer's site. *cough*She's winning*cough* But that's just because I have so much to do to mantain and update this site, I rarely get a chance to just sit here and type. Oh, and I would like to mention to my *snicker* LOYAL fans that this Longest Text Ever DOES get updated at least once a week, so please, please, please, PLEASE do not read this once, in one sitting and then leave forever, and ever and ever! It makes me sad...*sniffle* Well...I feel better now. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? Yep. That's right! It'll be ready soon, ain't it great? Okay, back to the flaming-chickens LTE rivalry. Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! HA-HA! HILARIOUS! "lower the quality"? Sometimes I crack myself up. If this was quality work, I'd publish it and make a fortune. Speaking of publishing, I do plan on somehow, someday publishing this as the first rambling narrative that makes no sense, and is about as interesting as rereading the almanac. I'd probably lose money, but the concept is interesting. I think. Anyway, I better go or the quality of this will go down in that evil downward spiral thing I discussed a few months back. Seeya. I'm back. Wooooo! I's can get to my site again! It was down for a whole day or so 'cause of all the traffic I got from my new quizes. I have an extra-special rant for you all today, to celebrate the new domain name! www.flaming-chickens.com! Okay. I am now barophobic (afraid of gravity). I recently learned in my EVIL Physics class that on average, humans lose one inch of height during the day due to gravity pushing on their spine. The height is regained at night, when you're laying down. This naturally alarmed the HECK out of me! GRAVITY IS EVIL! It's pushing down on me, squishing my spine. MY SPINE IS SQUISHY! That's is just so extremly creepy. What if, eventually, Earth's gravity get's very very strong, and we all imploud from the squishyness? It'd be like when you go to the bottom of the ocean, only with gravity instead of pressure...*shudders* Pressure is evil, too. Air pressure. Did you know that there is over two miles of air sitting on you right now? Even though air is light, that much air adds up. TWO MILES? Even the air is conspiring to squish me! If you don't believe that all that air has weight, try going into space sometime. Space is notorious for not having air. When you're in space (without a space suit) you don't SUFFUCATE, you don't FREEZE. You exploud. Since all that nifty air isn't pressin' on you, your guts and stuff are free to go wherever they want, and the EVIL little things decide to roam around. Outside your body. It's creepy. So...air pressure can be a good thing. Even though it gains pleasure from squishing my spine. That's it, I'm gonna take drastic measures! I'm gonna launch THE OFFICIAL FLAMING CHICKENS LUNAR COLONY! The moon has one-sixth of Earth's gravity. And absolutly NO air-pressure. We can all wear spiffy space-suits and feel all superiour to all those stupid earthlings. So...if you wish to contribute to this great and magneficent and magestic and MOOSEY project...we need the following things: 739 rolls of aluminium foil (preferably the extra shiny kind) 417 refridgerator boxes, 9000 rolls of "sticky on both sides" duct tape, 300 lbs of chicken feathers (preferably white) and 1 (one) thermo-nuclear-rocket-thruster. If you can spare any of these items, please e-mail them to me. Yes. E-mail. Did you really think I'd give you guys my ADDRESS? Now...I know what you guys are thinking...some of those items on that list are gonna be hard to find. Especially that duct tape. But, believe me, it's MUCH more practical than the alternative. What is the alternative, you ask? I'll tell you. Making me(The Patron Saint of Paperclips) the Ruler of the Laws of Nature! That way I can just outlaw the need for gravity and air pressure! I'm already half way there, since I conclusivly proved (in Physics class) that gravity actually causes things to slow down and EVENTUALLY GO UP! Sure, my TEACHER said that was because I was doing the problems wrong, but once I'm the Ruler of the Laws of Nature, I'll change the problems so that I'm right! Oooo! I thought of another very good reason to assist with the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony! As we all know, the world is going to end in about 380,695 days! This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. And I sugest that we build the rocket so that we can go to the Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony so that we can laugh at the stupid earthlings who are blowing up because they didn't listen to us when we tried to warn them about the impending doom! Once we are on our Lunar Landing Site, we will engage in many exciting activites, primarily related to suffucating and starving. If (and this is a big if) the world DOES survive, we can beg them for food, oxygen and other supplies. They'll probably just call us weird and laugh at us, but that's beside the point! I can even see the Official Flaming Chicken Rocket. It'll be covered in chicken feathers, and shaped like a chicken. The foil will make up the beak and the folded legs, and the thruster can simulate the tail. It will be a truly magestic site, as it launches from the earth, spewing excess oxygen, cardboard, feathers and tape. But, act now, or it will be too late, and you will be one of the losers that we'll be laughing at, assuming we have air to laugh with. Remember, e-mail psopc@flaming-chickens.com the much needed supplies...if that is possible. If not, then some day, when the Internet is down and I'm really bored, I will construct a model OFCR and attempt to launch it. That will be a wonderous day. I think I'll get my little sister to be the test piolet. Well...better go...I need to plan this out more...I'm back. And mildly weirded-out. My dad...was on this site. My dad. It even SOUNDS weird. He took the TAB member quiz and turned out to be me, he took the JOB quiz, and was a repo man (which had a pic of my brother) He said he wanted to see what I was doing, and to make sure that I wasn't saying anything derrogatory about my parents. He looked me upvia yahoo's search engine using flaming-chicken as the keyword. It took him to my quiz page. So he probably didn't see the majority of my site. It's just weird. All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) about my site, and called me weird. I dunno...I guess I'm just kinda freaked out. Oh, and don't forget to celebrate Mad Hatter Day on October the 6th. Seeya. I'm back. I had some conspriacy or another to rant about. But then I listened to some of the new music I put on my site and mellowed out. I can't remember what I was gonna rant about. Oh, yeah. Now I do. "Purified" water. Just wait a sec while I stop the music. *content sigh* There we go...that's much better. Now I can think. That's right, folks. "Purified" water. Now...just stop a second and contemplate that. Pure means, well, no extra stuff. 100% of something. Right? Well, next time you buy your $3 FREAKIN' dollar bottle of water, consider this. On almost all the "purified" water bottles I've ever seen it has the following mesage: "Purified through reverse osmosis. Minerals added for a pure, fresh taste." In other words, they take all that extra "stuff" out to make it pure. Then they add other "stuff" in to make it TASTE pure. But it's not. For all you, the uninformed consumer, could know, it might have rat poison in it. "Pure" water manufactuerers are not required to list the ingredients of water, because the average consumer believes that it should be obvious. But that is false! They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It's an outrage! I'd rather drink the "impure" tap water where at least I KNOW that someone, somewhere tested it. It's a law, I think. But does anyone test "pure" water? Most likely they test it BEFORE they add the extra stuff..."Yep, Bob, this is some mighty pure water." "Yep, Bill, time to dump the arsnic in so it tastes pure!" What kind of reasoning is that? Wouldn't pure water TASTE pure, and impure water TASTE impure? The insanity and stupidity is mind boggling! That's why I like fast-food salt. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. There's salt, of course, and aluminum sulfate, and other compounds. But the point is, if I were, say, freakily allergic to a random mineral, I could read the ingredients and not eat the salt. That's what they need to do with the water. Or, at the very least, not label it as "pure". Okay. That's the rant of the week, month, year, whatever. I'll probably have another one soon, but that whole water thing has been buggin me for awhile. Well...seeya! Er...yeah...I'm back. It's been awhile, (at least two weeks) since I've written here. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. I'm goin' light on the advertising at the moment, which is why I'm free to write here. I WANT to write. But I can't think of anything to write about. Typical. I finnaly get some free time to rant and rave and all my topics just magically melted away. Let's see...what have I ranted about before, subliminal messages, vast breakfast cereal conspiracies, water, uh...reality tv? And that's just what I can list from memory. Oh, yeah! How could I forget the stupid Tootsie Roll Pop Commercials? TACO is still in my heart. *sighs*...now...let's see...what to rant about today... ... ... ... ... I can't think of anything!? Is this writer's block?! Or maybe I just wanna go to bed. Sleeping is fun. Well...let's see. Did you know that statistics prove that 45% of all statistics are completly made up by me (The Patron Saint of Paperclips)? Well...they are. Ha! I see you have no reaction to that, do you Hypothetical Reader? I have once again caused that explody sensation in your brain meats! You cannot DEFEAT me! I rule the...er...*random Loyal Minion whispers in ear* That's right! I rule the Internet! The Official FLaming-Chickens Handbook already confirms that fact! You CANNOT DENY it! It says that in black and...er lime green! It MUST be true! Because it is in those veyr colors that the Matrix is programmed! Ahhh...I see your confusion! You cannot follow the vast, mind-boggling logic that is ME! Wait...how...how can I BE logic? That doesn't make any sense...you can't BE something abstract...can you? Now MY brain meats feel explody. That's not fair! I see your EVIL plot now, Hypothetical Reader! You just let me rant on and on for you KNEW that eventually I would confuse myself with my vast puddle of knowledge. You are devious...I give you that. Unfortunantly...I must leave...before the confusion spreads and I do something stupid...like revealing my one weakness before you...THAT'S IT! Code 452 of the Flaming Chickens Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paperclips (ME!!!) does not, has never, and will absolutly NOT admit to having any weakness...besides the aformention indivduals own skin, which isn't even a weakness anyway since no representative of the Dark, Fluffier Side can BE the Patron Saint of Paperclips (Guess, who...no...no...THAT'S IT!) and even if they could it wouldn't do them any good because it would scare them instead of the aformentioned individual. Boy...I really enjoy confusing myself!:) Seeya! I'm baaaaa-ack! Aren't you happy? Here, see if you can find the super-secret message! While you wait for yesterday's tomorrow, lunge back and remember that day. You know the one. Yeah, this doesn't mean anything to you. Are you surprised? Obviously not. Answer me, you blobby looking freak! Or suffer my blindingly moronic nail messages. Did you find it? Wasn't it super? And secret? I thought it was. But then, I'm me...and you're you. I think. I'm pretty sure you're not me...but you could be that other guy. Yeah...that...guy...you know who I'm talking about. No? Do not MOCK me! I know where you are right now! Spooky, huh? Ooooo...time for today's topic. My favorite stuff...JTHM...I have my libraries copy of JTHM...I shall quote Noodle Boy for you:) (Full copyright/credit to Jonhnen Vasquez for writin' the stuff, I'm just sharing the spleeny goodness with you). (it's edited, of course, to stay PG13...**** signifies a random naugty word:)) "HEY, DOG ENTITY! RISE UP AND BARE YOUR BISCUIT FILTY FANGS AT THE LEASH WIELDING DEMON!! **** MY NAVEL ITCHES!! MEOW!MEOW!MEOW! CAT CHOW!!! CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE! GRRR!! CHEESE!!! I SENSE YOUR ENVY OF MY NECK!! AND I DONT BLAME YOU!! DROOOOOL OVER MY MAGICAL POWERS!! I HAVE POWERS PINTO BEANS CAN ONLY DREAM OF! WANNA SEE ME PULL A TAPEWORM OUTTA MY ****!! HUH?!...STARE DEEP INTO THE STINKING ABYSS OF MY INDIVIDUALLY WRAPPED SLICES!!! HOLY WAX! CHECK OUT MY ARMPITS!!! HEEEEY! WAIDAMINIT!! WAIT JUST A POLYP PICKING MINUTE!! I SEE YOUR GAME! YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! YOU'RE ALL ZOMBIE THIGH-FAT PEOPLE BROUGHT INTO ANIMATION BY SOME EVIL FORCE OF FORCEFUL EVIL!!! **** THAT LIPSTICKS THE WRONG COLOR FOR YOU!! MOOOO! WOOF! OH, DON'T YOU SEE THE TOENAILS?!! OH, SO SPLENDID!! A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,K...! UNDER SUCH EXTREME HEAT, WEAR AND DEGRADATION IS INEVITABLE!! PARTS BREAK AFTER OVERUSE!! AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Now, wasn't that entertainment. I added to the lenghth of the LTE without even thinking! That's talent. Lots of gooey talent. Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. And any weirdness I could come up with would be normal compared to Noodle Boy, so...I bid thee farewell...seeya! I'm back. And I've realized that I am a complete idiot. For an ENTIRE MONTH I have possesed the arcane knowledge, but I forgot to share it with you, my loyal potentially imaginary reader. I know. You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. I apologize from the depths of my moosey soul. For, you see...my life long goal has been fufilled...*anticipatory silence*...THERE ACTUALLY IS GRAPE PIE!!!! I know...you are as shocked as I am. One day I was randomly looking up images via Google...and 'lo and behold, there it was. Grape Pie. It was as if it had been just sitting there...waiting for me to discover it. Apparantly Grape Pie isn't mainstream, but it has existed for some time. In obscure cookbooks. Well...that just makes me filled with gooey happiness. Of course, there is also regret...after all, I could have made a fortune if I'd been the first to think of it. Oh, well. There was something else I had to tell you loyal *cricket chirps, someone coughs* fans. I can't remember what. I guess I'll just rant and rave about that whole vicious downward spiral of my writing. I mean, I KNOW people are coming here...I have proof! *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! But this proof degrades this mysterious, mystical and mystifying "quality" of my words. After all, how can I be self derisive, and full of low expectations for this site if I KNOW people are here...several thousand of them in fact, in just a few months. It's strange. I felt more fufilled when this site was a barren wastland of useless space. But, if it had remained that way, I would have had no impetus to continue my pointlessly insane ranting. Oh, speaking of insane, I STILL need those much needed supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! No one has even bothered to e-mail them to me...*sniffle*. I needs the duct tape! How can I survive without the sticky goodness? HOW, I ask you!? It cannot be...hmmmm...maybe I should just use IMAGINARY duct tape...it's easier to come by ,but it's much more expensive...I'm not sure what to do. *enter Squirell* What's that, little Squirell? That's just silly. You KNOW I ran out of imaginary money last week when I bought that imaginary country. WHAT!? Just "imagine" I have more!? What a crazy idea. So crazy it just might work! *scrunches eyes and makes funny sounds* Nope. It didn't. I guess I'll just have to wait untill my imaginary clone hijacks that imaginary bank truck. Until then...I have absolutly no imaginary money. What ever shall I do? I won't be able to feed my various imaginary pets and friends their beloved imaginary food! Squirell? You gots extra money, don't you? *nods* I thought so. You give to me? No? I gives you imaginary IOU's...here...yours. Thank you Squirell. *Squirell wanders off in search of electrical sockets to sniff* What's that, Hypothetical Reader? You don't know who Squirell is? You haven't been paying attention have you? She's my little puppy...she fears grape flavored stuff, wind, rain, television, noise, silence, small children and pretty much everything. She likes sniffing potentially dangerous stuff, like electrical sockets. Surely you have heard of her? Still no? Oh, well. You know...I enjoy having these conversations with you. It really lets me get to know you. What's that? You say I'm really just talking to myself? What an eccentric idea! To think, YOU are trying to tell ME that YOU aren't here. How absurd. After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? *nods* Well, yeah...I KNOW I'm actually typing instead of talking. Wait a minute...so you're saying that I'm talking and responding to you, but you won't be reading this until long after I have finished typing? Now who's the crazy one? For that theory to work, I'd have to be psychic...or in possesion of a freaky time-traveling computer. Because what you're saying is that I'm talking to people in the future. That my words somehow travel accross time (if only a few minutes) and are somehow picked up by future you, and that my responses are dictated by future you's reactions. What? You mean that I'm just randomly responding regardless of your reactions? Why, that would be insane, wouldn't it? That's the point you're trying to get across? *pauses* Oh. I see. You wanna play that way. Well...two can play by THOSE rules. You wanna try to convince me I'M crazy? Well, look at you? How do you know I even exist? For all you know you could be staring at that freaky 3-D maze screen saver with a blank look on your face while you THINK you're reading an inhumanly long text. For all you know, you could be halucinating my entire site! For that matter, how do you know that ANYTHING but you exists! You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! Every single person you know could just be figments of your imagination, you could even be in a crazy house! Not only that, but how do you know that YOU actually exist? You could be the figment of someone else's dream. What would happen when that dreamer woke? Are you happy? You got me started. I may NEVER shut up. I'll just go on and on about how crazy you COULD be. All because YOU tried to convince me that I was crazy. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. Strange, huh? Well, I better leave before I go on and on about more "reality" theories. Makes you wonder about "reality" television, huh? Seeya. I'm back. Grrrr...I had a nifty rant all planned out in my head. And then I was unable to get on the computer and I forgot most of it. Oh, but I did remember what else I wanted to say to you people. Remember that rant I did on how there could be a secret camera in the smoke detector? I few months ago I saw a movie about that. It was pretty good. Maybe I'd seen it before, and that's where I got the idea. I forgot it's name. Well...I DO have a special treat for you weirdos who apparantly like wasting time! Today, in my (Honors) English class, we did group work. My group...well...we either went hysterical or crazy, I can't decide which. We had to do an essay on a book. There was a sample essay online. It sucked. It tooked about envelooping (enveloping) cracked nuts and parables. So we were already off to a bad start. Here is the sum total of my group's work. (Note: I wrote virtually none of this, so I cannot be blamed, credited with any of this. "Lots of death, lots and lots of death in this section. Death is like life in that after you die some things start life again inside of you. 'Ah the power of cheese!' The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. 'I found nothing else to do but to offer him on of my good Swede's ship's biscuits I had in my pocket'" And we're supposed to be GOOD in English! We KNEW how terrible it was, but we just didn't bother to change it. Especially the part about the biscuits and cheese. We just picked random words in the selection and wrote about them. It was sad. In any case, I hope you enjoyed our patheticness. Seeya! I'm back. Today I will be mercifully brief. I am here to bring AWARNESS to your moosey soul! Right now, while you are sitting in your "chair" and eating your "junk food", millions of almonds are commiting suicide. Yes...that's right...suicide. I was alerted to this growing problem in our world community by (Kat, the ruler of all that is almondy)...and it greatly concerns me. People just don't realize that their almonds and mixed nuts may be having depression and other problems. We need to act now! For more information, e-mail EnpuUnknown@msn.com Well...seeya! I'm so very, very tired. Today was Halloween. I worked for four hours at the "Library of Terror" sponsered by TAB. TAB members got pizza...lots of pizza...and candy. Ugh. It was fun, but exhausting. I was almost completly covered in (fake) blood...it was sticky toward the end. One guy was a "shock therepy" patient...he was a good actor. He acted like he was really being tortured and stuff. I'm tired. I bet you couldn't tell. Why am I writing? Because this is the first time I've been on a computer all day. You can't blame me. Don't worry, I'll go to bed soon. In the mean time, I'll just sit here and type with my eyes closed. It's hard to type because of the bandaid on my finger. I accidently cut it with scizzors. It hurt. The fake blood seeped into the open wound. Gee...I sure hope it wasn't poisonous. If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhile...seeya. Okay, this next rant has nothing to do whatsoever with Halloween...which is to be expected because it's been several days since then. Anyway, today's rant is about one of my many and various pet peeves: fasion and...stuff. My definition of fasion includes clothes, shoes, jewelery and all things of that nature. Now, don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a spiffy black outfit as much as the next person, but everytime I consider actually buying clothes for aesthetic value, I think about how I could better spend my money. On video games. Sure, some of this "fasion" stuff is cool and all, but all it shows is that you had the three and three-quarters brain cells required to copy someone else's "look". And don't even get me started on earrings. My little, eviler sister got her ears pierced when she was relativly younger. My mom did it to her because it was free. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! Just like thos so called "diet supplements" that give you a "free" sample because they know that once you try it, you'll like it so much you'll spend oodles of cash on it. (There's probably drugs in it). Anyway, like the "diet supplement" people, the earring manufacturers KNOW that once they pierce you, you'll be hooked for life. *pauses* *groans* I'm sorry for that pun (pierced, hooked, getit?). AS soon as you're pierced, you have to buy "starter" earrings. Then you'll need an "extra" pair...for special occasions. Before you know it you'll realize that you need Christmas earrings, Halloween earrings, Valentine's Day earrings, St. Patrick's Day earrings, for crying out loud! You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. By the time you're eighty, you'll have enough ear jewelry to open up your own jewelry shop. Of course, you won't want to do that becuase you still need more earrings so people won't think you wear the same ones over and over again. When I think of how much money people WASTE on appearences, it makes me feel like projectile vomiting. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. Now, I'm not speaking from personal experience here. No one I know is that obsessed with earrings, it was just an example. (Although my mother does have a "earring tree".) Sure, certain members of my family do pay WAY to much attention to fasion, but that's just because of the expectations of society. I, being weird, am pretty much immune to such expectations. Except those specially formulated for weird-o's like me. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It's the same concept. (No, I don't like any of those creepy "pop" stars. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing death...I was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Well...any way...seeya! I'm back. And today's rant is a sort of philosophical one. It's about the (supposedly) infinite nature of the universe. Suprised? It's spiffy. You see, if the universe is indeed infinite, that means that literally EVERYTHING is possible, and in fact, is happening somewhere in the universe. Think about it. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Think about that old saying about "If you gave an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters, eventually they would reproduce the entire works of Shakespear". That makes complete and total sense! Anyone just randomly typing letters will eventually accidently write a word, right? Now think of 100 people typing randomly. You figure that one of those 100 people would actually have a coherent phrase. And one out of a million people would probably have a few sentences. So if you have an infinite number of people, some are going to have entire books of coherent stuff. And, you have to remember that because infinity is infinite, you can divide it an infinite number of times. Try it. If you have a decent graphing calculator, plug in the infinity symbol divided by anything, (even infinity). The answer is still infinity. Using my philosopy, that EVERYTHING exists because the universe is infinite...well...think about it. In some far off world, there are pokemon...there are an evil race of muffin like creatures, there is a world with ABSOLUTLY NO COMMERCIALS DURING TELEVISION! I know, unlikely, huh? But somewhere, it exists. Think about it. If the universe is infinite it would be crazy to think that we're alone. With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. There ARE aliens. Not only that, but there are an infinite number of different kinds of intelligent life. Which means that there are an infinite number of worlds with humanoid life. (Think of the fake-looking Star Trek aliens). If there are an infinte number of worlds with human life, than there are an infinte number of worlds that have someone exactly like you, with only a few key differences. (Like alternate dimensions and stuff) So, there is a world where you are the creator of this Longest Text Ever. There is a world where you are a faerie. There is a world where you were never born. There is a world where you are a slave to your TOASTER OVEN. The possibilities are literally endless. Every fantasy the human mind has concieved exist at some place in the universe. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. Think about it. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. I'd tell it to my little brother as a bed time story. He always enjoyed it because it meant that somewhere, he was the Supreme Dictator of the Galaxy. That made him happy. He ignored the fact that he was also a 72 year old "sanitation engineer" somewhere. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. Because that would be impossible. There is always someone worse off and better off than you. Because there are an infinite number of people on either side of the spectrum. Confusing, huh? But that's the kind of thing I like. That also explains why normal stuff confuses me. I'm sure some so called "scientist" can prove all my theories wrong...but how? How do you PROVE something is not infinite? You'd have to find the end, of course. But how, may I ask, can you find the end of the FREAKIN' universe? What, is there a giant sign saying, "DEAD END"? The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? At the same time, how can you prove something IS infinite? You could travel in a straight line at the speed of light for a million years and all you'd prove is that the universe is really, really big. But you'd never prove it was infinite. How could you? Our mind's cannot conceive of the vastness of infinity. We'd probably go crazier. In any case, my theory means that playing video games is very cruel. Why, you ask? Because in some world, the video game is real. So when you kill, or whatever, in the game, you are actually ending life somewhere in the universe. Of course, you also end life by sneezing, eating, sleeping, and watching T.V. According to my theory that everything is real. Of course, if everything is real...then the Universe is pretty contradictory. The paradox of my system of beliefs leads me to believe that the universe, in fact, is not infinite. Because nature supposidly abhors a paradox. Although, as I said, there's no way to prove me wrong OR right. That's what I like about making abstract theories... Anyway, sorry for the lack of relative weirdness, conspiracy theories and doughnuts (my Moose ate them all). Well...now that I think about it...according to my theory, ALL conspiracies are real and mislabled "paranoid" people are really the only ones who see the truth. *blinks* Wow...so I'm NOT paranoid. Who'da thought it? Well...better go before one of my two and half sane readers falls asleep:) Seeya! I'm back! Boy, are you mythical, mystical readers in for a treat, today! I have a guest rant/fake commercial written by "Meg" (who is once again banned from accessing the almighty Internet). Are you ready? No? Too Bad! The magic eight-ball glows with knowledge! With a shake, the future is revealed! The magic eight-ball is a plastic casing with an unknown, possibly toxic liquid inside. The future is determined by the triangles, in a startling blue color which spin around in a zany manner. Wheather you're saved or doomed, find out now! Is that old lady on the street corner really an ex-convict? Is fat-free food more delicious than food loaded with fat? Is your school playground a gateay to the underworld? All this information and more is yours for the low, low price of 5 payments of $29.99! And, if you call within the next ten minutes you get a free eight ball with the one you buy! But wait! There's more! Get the free Lil' Ball for your traveling needs! Warning: this product is illegal in most states) Wasn't that entertaining? "Meg" wrote it for a school assignment. We were supposed to write about a cherished child-hood toy, and attempt to turn our fond memories into a commercial. I wrote about furby, and how it was fun to watch it die. No, really. Somehow, I managed to make my furby die. It would sneeze, then start it's eight-hour-long death hum. It would hum, and hum, and hum...and then mercifully die. I don't exactly have a good track record with virtual pets. I once...*embarassed pause* had "Hey, You! Pikachu!"...a pokemon game. I'll only say that it was the first game you could "talk" to and was the first (and only) N64 virtual pet. Pikachu...well...he didn't like me. I gave him cupcakes, and presents, and did everything I could to befriend him! And what did he do to me? He snuck up on me one day in our room (in the game) with a sword! That's right, a sword! He tried to kill me! I heard something and turned around, and there he was! He even tried to hide the sword behind his back! When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. Then he preceeded to trash my room, scattering kleenex everywhere. I'm pretty sure that the "smelly yellow ball" that he started throwing was his own feces (poo). That dirty little rat. Awwww...isn't he cute? Hmmmm...I suppose I should clarify that the Pikachu game was 3-D and your character was in first person mode(you see through character's eyes). Otherwise you'd think I was delusional, or something. Everyone I know who has played that game is shocked when I tell them...oh, well. Speaking of virtual pets, I'm revamping the ones on this site. I've finnally figured out sorta, maybe, kinda, how to do stuff to make it more real. Anyway, seeya! OOooooo! I'm back, and I had yet another Asparagus War with some people. We made a guild, and I wrote out the transcripts of the first ever Asparagus War in narrative form (mock epic, very cheesey) Since it's very, very long, I'll post it here to meet my imaginary word quota for the day! Oh, and all those weird squiggly lines and symbols, those are supposed to be apostrophes, but neopet's code is weird, and I'm not gonna bother to edit it. Enjoy! And, on the 15th day of the Month of August, in the year of our Lord 2003, at approximately 7:52 p.m. a great and wondrous battle was fought in the waste lands of the General Chat Room. ‘Lo, and eon337 did wield the mighty Swiss-Asparagus, and did attempt to vanquish her foe, the Evil and Fluffy preggypreggy. Preggypreggy had tamed the fearsome Asparagus Sword, and many a foe had she slain with her valor. But behold! For the Swiss-Asparagus did slice, and dice and was capable of turning itself into julienne fries! And so it seemed that the two mighty warriors were evenly matched and that their struggle would never come to and end. They didst charge at each other with a terrible noise and clamor, and the skies did shake and the earth did tremble at the ferocity of their mighty blows! The stereotypical Asparagus Sword didst fail to hit its mark and eon337 did mock the Sword for it’s falling. Translation: On 8-15-03, 7:52 NST, eon337 and preggypreggy grabbed some Asparagus Themed weapons and fought. They made fun of each other’s weapons, and generally kept missing each other every time they swung. And eon337 did think long and ponderous and in so doing converted the puny Swiss-Asparagus into the mighty and powerful toothpick. And the masses did gleam the significance of this act and they were awed by the grace and cunning of the wooden speck. And preggypreggy was immune to the verbal slings and arrows of her foe, and refused to be disheartened by eon337’s dishonorable insults. Her claim being that function of a weapon is to be put before the ornate form. She endeavored to thwart eon337’s plans to defeat her with the great and wondrous toothpick. She didst again pummel the air with her sword, but in her enthusiasm her blows didst fall far from their mark. And the masses didst cheer for eon337 as she had impressed them greatly and they made the sounds of impressive wonder. Translation: Eon337 turned a perfectly good Swiss-Asparagus into a toothpick to gain the approval of the studio audience. The audience oooed and awed. Preggypreggy continued to swing wildly around, missing each time. She ignored eon337’s insult and said that at least her sword worked. And then a new challenger didst arrive at the arena and scoobychick6900 didst fling bowls of asparagus at the fighting mortal enemies. Preggypreggy appealed to the masses, but to no avail, and was heartily surprised when the asparagus did hit her. And ‘Lo! The masses didst condemn scoobychick6900 loudly and vehemently and there was much rejoicing in the land. Preggypreggy didst fancy that she had perhaps met scoobychick6900 previously, and so did attempt to recollect when. Eon337 did take advantage of the lull in action and did attack preggypreggy with her finger. Preggypreggy did retaliate with the awe-inspiring SuperPoke, and eon337 was laid low upon the ground in agony. Translation: Scoobychick6900 showed up and threw bowls of asparagus. Eon337 poked preggypreggy, and preggypreggy poked back, harder. Eon337 was hurt. And with victory in her mighty vision, preggypreggy didst decide to reveal her secret weapon, and with a fancy hand movement, revealed the extent of her traitorous ways. For all know that the bagels and the doughnuts didst disband in ancient times of old. Preggypreggy, through her treacherous methods, had obtained the Flying Doughnut of Doom and didst endeavor to use it. Eon337 was readily prepared for such an occurrence and didst arm herself with mighty ear-shields, armor that didst repel all projectiles of metal, a head covering, and an outer covering of strange, transparent material that didst snap whence it was squeezed. Aragorns_cutie then didst show up with the almighty nemesis broccoli and an unnecessary sneer upon her countenance. _Radical_girl_ did break the protocol and didst claim to rather fight with cucumbers, and so it was done. And the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst not hear the newcomers because of her mighty ear-shields, and didst offer the fighters dressings for their wounds. Translation: Preggypreggy revealed that she had a secret weapon from Ancient Times, although eon337 was prepared for it, with earmuffs, bulletproof armor, and bubble wrap. Two new fighters showed up and did random things. Eon337 offered Band-Aids. And aragorns_cutie didst laugh in a manic way, and didst wave the broccoli to and fro in a threatening manner. And eon337 did finally recognize the newcomers, and ask, neigh, commanded they give preggypreggy healing strips. And _radical_girl_ didst howl furiously and implored the fighters to meet their DOOOOOOOOM. And so hiamplidude didst come to the battle and didst posses the almighty Asparagus Cannon, and did thinkest himself invincible. Following himaplidude camst nemmisis_dude, who didst offer the warriors ponderous messages such as: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN 10 DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME. And the warriors didst consider nemmisis_dude a profit, who was devoted to speaking in tongues so as to convey a message from the gods. And ‘Lo! Nemmisis_dude didst reveal his Bow and Asparagus and the masses rejoiced. And eon337 didst intimidate her foes by snapping her transparent covering and shrieking that she was invincible. Translation: Random stuff happened, and more people showed up. Someone spammed the message board so people ignored it and eon337 went crazier And ‘Lo! The writer of this cheesy epic didst realize that virtually every sentence begins with “and”, and the masses rejoiced. _radical_girl_ dids’t chase random people with her broccolis, and didst miss in her mighty swings. Hiamplidude didst take out nemmisis_dude, and gloried in his honor and didst receive a spinach gun from the gods. . Preggypreggy was threatened by the randomness, and didst call her secret weapon, the Mighty Evil Flying Donut Of Doom! Eon337 realized preggypreggy’s unprecedented treachery and didst cower in her impotence before one so Dark and Fluffy. And aragorns_cutie had ex-lax and _radical_girl_ didst covet invincibility and so did don a pool covering. Nemmisis_dude was revealed to be unharmed by hiamplidude, and didst fire at preggypreggy with an asparagus gun. But preggypreggy didst forget one thing: eon337 still possessed the support of the ignorant masses, which guaranteed her inevitable victory. And preggpreggy scoffed at eon337’s supposed advantage and didst claim that even the ravenous horde of the people didst not conceive of her one vulnerable point. And preggypreggy didst close her mind to the truth: the dark side is fluffy. Translation: Preggypreggy called the Flying Donut of doom and eon337 called preggypreggy a traitor. The newcomers did random tings, and eon337 reminded everyone that she still had the support of the studio audience. Preggypreggy refused to see it as an advantage, and refused to believe that she was on the Dark, Fluffier Side. And behold, for eon337 didst transform the Asparagus Toothpick into a Aspara-Launcher and didst call preggypreggy deceived in her way of thinking, for the Dark Side is always Fluffier. And preggypreggy didst call forth the creamed cheese from the bowels of the Evil Flying Donut of Doom and the masses did rejoice, and wallowed in the fattening substances that fell from the air like a gift of mana from the gods. And eon337 didst fire projectiles at preggypreggy and unexpectedly mimicked the holy Matrix in her cries of “Dodge this”. And neoshadow08 didst arrive and inquire as to whether rubber chickens were allowed, and the multitudes said yes. Preggypreggy, in her infinite wisdom, failed to see the connection between Darkness and Fluffiness, and was so forsaken by the masses. And greyratt didst claim to have invented a new, spookier type of asparagus that never caught on, and the multitudes rejoiced. Preggypreggy didst dodge the projectile, and gained honor amongst the masses. As the theological debate about the Dark, Fluffier Side raged on, the newcomers fought with the dung of dogs, the chickens of rubber and other such unorthodox weaponry as greyratt didst play with discarded asparagus. Translation: Some stuff happened here. No, really! Eon337’s toothpick became an Aspara-Launcher, and preggypreggy and eon337 argued about whether the Dark Side was Fluffy or not. Neoshadow08 and greyratt came, and did stuff. Preggypreggy released cream cheese from the Flying Donut of Doom. And eon337 didst revealth that she didst posses the Ultimate Asparagus Themed Weapon, too terrible to be named, oh, what the heckth, the name didst ring and was The Thermo-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And preggypreggy didst begin to crack under the strain of the Squeak of Death, and so in his infinite understanding, neoshadow08 didst remove the Squeak of Death and didst replace it with the Chic Attack. Aragorns_cutie didst protest the violence, and didst consume the flavorful tomato paste. And moonbeam998 didst come, a magical priestess full of arcane knowledge. Her mighty glance didst fall upon the warriors and she didst proclaim: THIS TRULY WORKS! POST THIS IN TEN DIFFERENT BOARDS AND YOU WILL FIND A BABY PAINTBRUSH WHEN YOU GO TO CHAT PREREFERENCE AND 10000000000NPS! THIS TRULY WORKS, TRUST ME! And the warriors were mystified by her meaning, but verily they didst decide that it meant for them to continue their holy battle, in the name of whatever great and mysterious god moonbeam998 didst represent. Scoobychick6900 didst return to pummel the warriors with bowels of asparagus, as in times of old. Translation: Eon337 got out the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon, and neoshadow08 stopped squeaking and started the Chick Attack. Yet another person spammed the message board, and was equally ignored. Scoobychick6900 returned. And neoshadow08’s baby chickens didst fall unto the warriors from the sky, and didst pummel the brave fighters unmercifully. And scoobychick6900 didst offer to the warriors magical rainbow colored pellets, which she didst hurl at them forcefully with a gun. The magic pellets were then revealed to be the chicken’s only weakness. And the warriors were locked in a deadly struggle, each using their unique methods and weapons. And the masses didst rejoice yet again. And then ‘Lo! For preggypreggy was forced to valiantly flee the battlefield, and acceded the victory to eon337. And the masses looked confused. Eon337 didst admit that preggypreggy didst fight a valiant battle. Skuld815 didst arrive and didst proclaim the battle strange and didst fling M & M’s at the warriors. And scoobychick6900 didst proclaim that Rice Krispies were much more powerful than other weapons, and didst think that she was the only warrior left. She did wail with despair as she didst discover that eon337 remained in the land of the living. Translation: Neoshadow08 caused chickens to fall from the sky, and scoobychick6900 fired skittles at people. Preggypreggy had to leave, and skuld815 showed up. Scoobychick6900 thought she was the last fighter left, but was not. And eon337 and scoobychick6900 were locked in a deadly struggle, candy versus vegetables. And neoshadow08 didst summon the Great Banana for advice, and the masses were stunned. Oh, the ground did shake, and the mountains trembled. The very stars became irregular in their rotations. And so the Great Banana was called, and it was good. And scoobychick6900 revealed that she had indeed blasphemed against the Great Banana and she didst quake in terror and attempted to corrupt eon337 into blaspheming as well. And shadow9441414 didst arrive with two prodigious asparagus swords. And spicychibie didst arrive and was proven to be crazier than all others, and the masses were impressed. Behold! Eon337 didst prostrate herself before the might of the Great Banana and didst beg for his aid in defeating scoobychick6900, and the Great Banana didst forgive eon337 and giveth her a banana. And spicychibie didst partake of the asparagus and didst faint. And the Great Banana didst advise eon337 to not rely on the strength of others, but to rely on the strength within. And scoobychick6900 didst appeal to the Great Banana and didst beg for forgiveness. And the Great Banana didst not make a reply, but instead didst close his eyes and did a perfect mimicry of sleep. And scoobychick6900 didst blasphemy again and didst explode bombs of rainbow color. And eon37, in the callow impatience of youth, didst detonate the Thermal-Asparagus-Nuclear-Weapon. And the masses were blown away. As the smoke, and rubble and debris were dissipated, behold! The Great Banana was vanquished! And eon337 didst lament this fate, for her weapon hadst been aimed at scoobychick6900. And scoobychick6900 didst revel in the defeat of the Great Banana, and didst stab at eon337 with its decapitated stem. And neoshadow08 was forced to choose sides, and ‘Lo he choose eon337! And the warriors didst depart, if not friends, then less angry enemies. And so ends the first of: The Asparagus Wars Chronicles. Translation: While eon337 and scoobychick6900 fought, neoshadow08 called the Great Banana. Scoobychick6900 claimed to have eaten the banana the previous night, and feared the banana’s wrath. The Great Banana was defeated, and everyone decided that the war was over. Wasn't that entertaining? Seeya! I'm back! Woooooooooooo! Guess what? Yep! *happy wiggle dance* I gots the first shipment of the much needed (pictures of) supplies for the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony! Woooooo! I feels the happy! This has been a short announcment to document the happy wigglienss that is me. Seeya! I'm back. And vaguely depressed. For the longest time, random people have been coming to my site, and staying 0.00 seconds! How is this possible? Do they not even look at my site? How can they be so cruel, to click, but not look? Grrr.... I asked Santa why this was so...but he doesn't talk to me anymore, after that incident when I was a kid. You see...*start wavy flashback lines and dreamy music* When I was a kid...or whatever...I asked Santa for nuclear warheads, helicopters, tanks...and possibly legions of doom. No, seriously! (I was twelve and forced to communicate with Santa so that my younger siblings did not guess the truth...(what truth?)...there is no spoon. (badly done Matrix parody)) Anyway...Santa didn't come through. The creep! How was I supposed to conquer the world without those supplies? All I got was a Lion King video and other random stuff. How did this help me? I vowed revenge against Santa...after all, it would have benefited him to help me. Once I was the Undisputed Lord of the Universe, the world would have been a spooky place. And all the little children wouldn't have been "good" anymore, since they would be free of thier Authoritarian Parental Units and the definition of "good" (to a parent, at least) is to obey your parents and not embarrass them. Soooooo....Santa would have had it easier. No "good" children would have meant that Santa could have had a permanent vacation in the Bahahmas, not molested by my Legions of Doom because after all--he had delivered the world to me in a brightly wrapped gift box. The man would have been more trusted than my trusted Lieutenants! (funny word...had to use spell check to spell it ^^;;) But that jolly old IDIOT had to mess things up. So, to get back at him I not only continued to not believe in him, I attempted to convert all the miniony children at my disposal...(okay not really, the idea just occured to me)...so I ask you *cough* Loyal Reader, to immediatly cease believing in Santa. I figure that--like Tinkerbell--he will evenutally perish if he doesn't have enough people believing in him. What is this? You wish to rule the world, too? Well, you can't! It's mine! Blasphemy! You dare to challenge MY rule? You are a fool! Okay...yeah...my whole Santa plot IS kinda dumb...but that's just a front so that you never guess my REAL plot! That's right....cower before my power! *insert evil, insane cackle here* I shall defeat you, Anonymous (another tricky word) Reader! Gah! I'd better go before you trace my location thorugh the Internet and send your Governmental Spyders to me! Ooops...I gave you an idea, didn't I? Well, don't use it! It's mine, you are a copy cat! Seeya *appropriate evil glare* I'm back! And, seeying as you MUST be tired of MY ranting, I have a special treat for all you hypothetical two and a half readers out there! You get ranting from somebody else! I won't bother to introduce them, since they do a good job of it themselves...here we go: Hiya. This is not PSOPC today. This is PSOCB (Patron Saint of Carbonated Beverages). We are the two original Head Saints, but for some reason, she gets all the attention. Guess I should get out of bed once in a while huh. Originally, I thought up the whole Patron Saints of the Order of the Flaming Chicken (when I should have been taking notes in Trig), but PSOPC is more creative and she elaborated on it more so. I was drawing "suppressed rage in bunny form" comics then and didn't care. I must say, she's gotten very good at thinking randomy thoughts, whereas, I'm just stoopid and something dumb pops out of my brain like floppy bacon from a toaster. I drank half a bottle of soy sauce today just to see if it gave me x-ray vision, but alas, I had nothing I wanted to look through (okay, I'm lying. I drank the whole thing on a dare.). By the way, soy sauce is gross. Who invented it? --"Why gee whiz, Bert! I think we should mix soy beans with water and have chinese for lunch!!"--"Why, indubitoubly Samson! Not only will it taste like crap, we'll get the runs!!!"-- If you don't know what the "runs" are, consult old people, like my dad. If you are in high school or college and have a job, this works great. When I call in sick (when I'm sick of working, not actually sick), I always have nosey bosses who want to know exactly what my symptoms are and how bad. I found a way to make them not WANT to know. I told my sister to try it once and it worked for her too. You just call up work, use a very retarded, slow, lisping voice when you say this: --"Weeelllllllll, I woked up this mornin' with a terrible headache so I took some aspirin with theraflu. By the way, those don't mix too good, now I have a tummy ache, my nose is runny and bleedin', my spleen feels like its gonna 'splode, I'm a tad gassy, and I got the RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!-- At this point, you'll want to use an annoying high-pitched growly voice (think drunk Barney from The Simpsons after sucking helium balloons), raspberry a few times with your toungue and hang up. I have much to do now, so thus ends this portion of my guest rant. I'll probably want to do this a few more times just because I can. Weeee Bye now! I bet you, loyal *hmmm...I don't want a cricket...maybe a nice annoying gnat or something...okay...instead of the cricket...* readers can't wait for the next time I don't rant! Right? Weeeellll...I DO have a topic for today...a topic so wonderful that it will also be included in the next OFCEM! What is this magical topic, you ask? Why, opposite day, of course! You see...er...well...how should I begin? Opposite day is, of course a day in which everything you say means the exact opposite. It is practiced (informally) by many elementary schoolers. I honor this er...honored tradition. But, to my dismay, I discovered a fatal flaw with opposite day. By my reasoning...it COULD NOT EXIST! Yes...I know...blasphemy, right? But it could not be disputed. If you were to tell someone that it WAS opposite day they would have to take the opposite of what you just said which would mean that it WASN'T opposite day. And, of course, if you were to tell someone that it WASN'T opposite day there would be no reason for them to take the opposite of what you said and so it still WOULDN'T be opposite day! Confusing, huh? But I have now seen the light! The answer to this moral dilema has been so neatly resolved, by Jesse. He is er...well...I'm not sure how old...but he is in the third grade. He is either a genius...or really weird like me (Come on, be honest...how many of you random people have put any though into opposite day...or even know about it?) He said that to make it opposite day...*dramatic pause in which the PSOPC stares into space vacantly*...all you had to do was say that it would be opposite day in 5 seconds! PURE GENIUS! Since it is not yet opposite day, you don't have to take the opposite of the statement and so can take it at face value! Do you care, Loyal *gnat/cricket sound* Reader? *stunned* You don't!? Why ever not!? It is the most important discovery since...since...er...since...GRAVITY! (Although it is evil and squishying my spine...) How can you remain apathatic at a time like this!? The fate of mankind has been forever altered! Oh. Yeah...I guess you are right. I AM just rambling so that this Longest Text Ever gets even longer. But I DO care about this topic. There's not even a conspiracy! Well..fine! Be that way! Goodbye! I'm back *twitch* and seriously annoyed. Grrr...time to yet again complain about my *twitch* evil family. It is once again the time of year that makes entire families bond together...in the same sense that cats and dogs bond together when they have rabies. The time...is science fair time. My younger, eviler sister does a science project every single year. *twitch* The concept of science projects strikes fear in my mother's heart. She can not stand them. Naturally, this is why she takes over the project and does it for my little sister. Unfortunatly, this means that I am often called on for my "consultant" abilities. *twitch* In other words, I do the experiment, and think of all the results, and the wording of everything. I then interpret my work for my mother, who writes everything down because she has really, really obsessivly neat handwritting. Of course, my mother gets stressed merely handling paper that will potentionally be USED for a science project, so this is a very, very negative situation. Oh, and my mother refuses to even entertain the notion that my little sister might possibly be of help *twitch*. At this very moment my little sister is watching a Disney movie, while complaining of a headache. *twitch* My mother is getting more and more aggravated as I try to explain that my sister might fail if it looks like she didn't do the project. I am currently on strike. I refuse to assist this project in any further way untill my little sister does freakin' SOMETHING. Wow. Speak of the devil. My sister IS doing something. She is RE-WRITING everything my mother just wrote. Like mother like daughter. *twitch* I guess this is my mother's way to make sure the judges don't know that my sister didn't do the project. My mother makes my sister redo everything over and over again because it's not perfect enough for her. Now she is the one who's getting yelled at. I guess I can't help but feel sorry for my evil sister. *pauses* I guess I'll stop complaining, then. God...I have a headache...seeya. I'm back. *shakes head* And I have (yet again) a rant about the sheer weirdness of my family. Previously I have ranted about our fun-filled family outing to a bar, and about my non-gender specific siblings obsession with dead animals. Somehow, these two occurances have joined in an unholy union to create: The Roadkill Sightseeing Event of Doom! We actually went to a normal resteraunt for dinner, believe it or not. On the way back, my mother entertained us with the story of how she had seen roadkill that looked exactly like a dead bear. She had later compared notes with one of her wacko friends and they had decided that it was, in fact, a dead wild boar. We would be passing by it in a few minutes. Oh joy. My non-gender specific sibling (henceforth known as my sister) was naturally estatic about these events. She wanted to get out and see the boar. My mother agreed, and wanted my Dad to turn the car around so we could go to Wal-Mart to buy a flash-light. My father refused this. We ended up driving right past the supposed location of the boar, much to the dismay of my sister and mother...and dare I say it? Yes...I dare. My BROTHER was even interested. Faced with direct mutiny from all but me, my father wisely elected to turn the car around. We drove off the road and my dad aimed the car headlights at the boar. I must say, it wasn't that impressive. It was just a lump of black hair, and it was a lot smaller than any bear. My sister was impressed, and it was all I could do to keep her from jumping out of the car to it. My mother was disappointed, saying that the boar had seemed bigger in the daylight. My dad moved the car back and forth, so that we could see the boar on the side of the road more clearly. My mother became terrified and decided that we would flip and die. All to see a boar. After a few minutes, we drove away. My mother seemed upset that I had not been interested in her roadkill. I can't help but feel cheated. Normal families go to museums and theme parks for amusement. We view dead animals. There is something just SLIGHTLY wrong with this. It reminds me of the time a few weeks ago when my mother swore up and down that she saw a grave by the side of the road. This bothered her for some time untill one day she finally pulled over to the side of the road and exhumed the shallow grave and discovered that it was actually a deer. Luckily, I was not with her this day. However, she never leaves any member of our family in the dark concerning roadkill. It's just strange. Anyway, that's the rant for today, seeying as how there was actually a topic. Seeya! I'm back! Seeing how I will shortly no longer be (legally) a child, I have decided to rant about: adults. You cannot deny it. They are EVIL. Think about it! Come, on! Don't be shy! I'm serious. When you think of the evil, conniving, conspiratorial ways of adults, what's the first thing to come to mind? The nursery rhyme, 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', right? Huh? You mean it's NOT!? How...bizzare, it's obviously a mechanism for brain-washing. Anyway, here's MY reasoning for hating the song (and many, many others). Mary Had A Little Lamb makes children resigned to accepting punishment that they don't deserve! You still do not see!? Fine, I shall elaborate. This poor little girl's lamb (with fleece as white as snow--an obvious reference to seeming purity) follows her to school one day (which was, oddly enough, against the rules). The kids at school, who were not used to seeing a lamb at school, started to "laugh and play" and basically act like wild animals. Now (this is all speculation) I am 90% sure that the final verse (which neither I, nor anyone I asked know) deals with the teacher reprimanding poor little Mary in some way. And for what!? The kid's pet followed her to school! How could she stop it, she probably never even thought to look behind her! Not only that, but poor little Mary would never, EVER do such a thing on purpose! Just listen to the SONG for cryin' out loud! The lamb followed HER! She didn't LEAD it! Now, sure, the teacher was probably on her last nerve. I mean, she's an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. She probably doesn't get paid much, or gain much respect from her pupils. So, when the children pretty much went wild over the lamb, and she couldn't calm them, she was looking for someone to blame. And poor little Mary was a ripe target by then. Now, can you honestly picture poor little Mary arguing with her teacher? I didn't think so! Little Mary took her punishment, and her PARENTS were probably so upset that they got rid of her white little lamb. And for what!? A teacher's misbegotten pride? Adult supremecy? I ask you, knowing what you know now, could you (in good faith) read this to a young child (implicitly teaching them that it's best not to argue, to simply lie down and let those older than you walk all over you--for "your own good")? And another thing! You know the lullaby, 'Rock A'Bye Baby', the one about the baby in the tree!? What kind of SICKO wrote it!? This poor baby is up in a tree (not the safest of places) in the middle of a freakin' HURICANE! At the end of the freakin' song, the freakin' BRANCH BREAKS and the baby falls, "cradel and all" (presumably to its death). What about Hanzel and Gretel? It's nothing more than a huge threat! "Now, be good or we'll send you out into the woods to be eaten by the witch." What kind of twisted person does that to children? Ring Around the Rosy? It's a song about the Black Plague, the deadliest plague in mankind's history! When you first got it, you'd get a red spot with a ring around it (Ring around the rosy). During this time, people (mistakenly) thought that stench spread sickeness, so they'd keep "pockets full of posies" to ward of the stench of death around them. "Ashes, Ashes" was originall "Achoo-Achoo", because the dying would be particularly susceptable to colds. "We all fall down"? That's an easy one. We fall down dead. So, it's obvious that adults don't exactly sugar-coat everything they teach to children. I'm sure I can find more horribly EVIL examples, but I simply don't have the time. Now, granted, there are SOME (but not many) children's stories that are beneficial. Like Snow White, or Cinderlla. Those stories teach children to think for themselves, and occasionally completly ignore the adults around them (as long as they are Evil Step-Parents). Well...I'd better go. *blinks* I wrote a lot today. I suppose I should write other stuff...but...well...I figure you need the break to recover your sanity...*snort* Like you could do THAT! Seeya! I'm back! As I am writing this, I am in the process of adding a navigation bar to the Longest Text Ever. It still is as chaotic as ever, but at least this way people can find certain stuff easier. Like the Official Flaming-Chickens Lunar Colony info. Anyway, that's about all I have to say right now. Seeya! Gah! Fellow Flaming-Chickens, you must see the sheer cool paranoid thinking I have found! Wal-Mart is EVIL! A person (besides me) thinks this! Isn't that cool!? There is even a section on Wal-Mart Subliminal T.V. (tupperware, anyone?)! Anyway, this has been a short public service annoucement. As opposed to one of those long public service announcments that keep on going and going and going. I mean, they just never seem to stop, do they? Just when you think they are finally going to run out of steam, they just charge on and on. It's like torture, or something. Don't those kind of people realize that if they public REALLY cared about the topic, they'd do their own durn research, instead of listening to some self-important moron lecture them about how socially-irresponsible they are? Not that I'm trying to prove a point. Quite the contrary: I am merely extending the lenght of this Longest Text Ever to provide an ironic example of self-important morons who just won't stop talking. Isn't it entertaining? Don't you just want to here my entire life's story, starting from age 2? You don't? Well...perhaps I really SHOULD leave...what do you think? Er...well...seeya! Yep. I'm back. *traumatic pause* This weekend I went to go visit my future college. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life, to date. The day before I got there the college had won a basketball game and were going to the finals. This naturally caused parties to break out all over campus. According to one guy, a couch was "set on fire". *sigh* I was "hosted" (along with two other girls) by some bubbly, perky Greek (sorority (sp?)) girl. I hate her so much. She never shut up. She was so shallow. She wanted us to join a sorority, just like her. (all paraphrased) Ex. 1 "I would NEVER have passed my classes if I hadn't gone Greek". Ex. 2 "I just don't see HOW I would have, like, ya' know, managed ANYTHING without my sisters!" If I never see her again it will be too soon. Her idea of entertainment was to take us to the recreational center, sit us down in the gym and talk to her friends while watching the guys (badly, this IS an engineering school after all) attempt to play basketball. Apparantly all the decent players were at the final game thingy. Then she took us to the fraternity next to her house (we didn't even get to "experience" sleeping in an actual dorm). The fraternity was disgusting. There must have been 1000 flies, 100 beer bottles, 50 Bud Lite cans, and 5 creepy dudes who were attempting to practice music for some competition. After about three hours of this, I almost snapped. Me and another girl were supposed to be watching T.V., but due to the evil, out of tune, incredibly loud band, this proved to be impossible. My "host" and the girl who was enthusiastic about "going Greek" were swimming in a heated pool. The other girl (who also hated to swimn) and I started to talk. There was nothing else really to do. She hated our host and hated the fraternity/Greek thing too. We talked for awhile, and some dude joined us. He was cool. He was regional STAR student for another area. Somehow we got onto the topic of religion, and it turned out that the other girl I was with was Muslim, and was born in Egypt. It was cool. Anyway, it was just the two of us girls in the entire FREAKIN' fraternity (not counting the two swiming girls, downstairs. The floor was greasy, and oddly sticky--just like a movie theater. When our "host" finnally said we could go, it was close to 2 a.m. I barely got any sleep...grrr...not to mention the fact that we had walk to breakfast by 8:00 a.m. Oh. Silly me. I forgot to mention a key difficulty. We had to WALK EVERYWHERE! Uphill! (But not in the freezing snow, for 15 miles). You have not experinced Jenny's personal Hell untill you have carried your luggage (including a trash bag containing a sleeping back and the trash bags plastic handley-thingies are rapidly stretching out to become lethal weapons similar to piano wire) uphill, upstairs, across campus and up the four or five flights to the breakfast area, only to discover that, Oh! Gee, there was an ELEVATOR that the "host" conviently forgot to mention. Even more evil stuff happened, but suffice it to say that when I finally saw my dad at lunch, I begged him to just skip the final sessions because they were pointless (how to choose your major) and go home. He went ahead with his sessions, but let me opt out of mine and I slept for 50 minutes on some random couch in the lobby. Oh. And then the 6 hour drive home. *shudders* As you can tell, I am still seriously miffed about the whole experience. Sorry for ranting... Well...there WAS some good things about the whole experience. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever been in a big city. The sky line was beautiful! Er...yeah...that was about it. Did I mention the uphill walking part? I did? Oh. Well. Then. I guess I'm done. Seeya! I'm back! And I'm here with a Vital Public Service Anouncment for all of my two and a half Loyal, Hypothetical Readers! Don't you feel all special inside? Oh. Yeah. The anouncment. BEWARE OF YOUR OWN FRENCH FRIES. That's correct. French fries. You see, it all started one friday afternoon *start wavy flashback sequence* My friends and I were sitting down to a tasty lunch of Skool Brand food. This included, tragically, french fries. Oh, what a fateful day. It seems like it was only yesterday when we were so carefree and innocent...when in fact it was actually only a few hours ago. You see, we inadvertantly started a mini-food fight that spilled over into a neighboring table, which also housed our friends. Said friends began flingning the aformentioned French Fries at us. I shudder to think of how we had laughed and frolicked and otherwise remained oblivious to the tragedy that had yet to unfold. For, you see...the french fires were...pointy...and hard. And Fate herself seemed to conspire against us (just like the Skool, government, evil cartoon owl, etc.) One single solitary french fry pierced my friend's guard and hit her on the nose with the sharpest, hardest tip a french fry has ever been known to produce. We calmed down, and thought nothing of our near brush with Death. After all, what can a FREAKIN' FRENCH FRY do, right? Ahhh...to be so young and naive again. Time passed, as it always does, and "Meg" noticed a speck of something on our friend who had been hit by the projectile french fry. The friend (Tonileigh, actually) wiped the speck, only to discover that it was blood. THE FRENCH FRY HAD DRAWN BLOOD! It was obviously an evil, voodoo french fry sent to assasinate her by the mysteriously evil Cafeteria Lunch Ladies who needed Tonileigh's blood for their accursed voodoo spells. Fortunatly, the quick thinking of "Meg" saved us all and the lunch ladies never obtained their goal. Oh. And here is yet ANOTHER VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT PUBLIC SERVICE THINGY. Tag, you're it! These words have haunted nearly ever playground in existance. "Tag" is practically all a child learns in kindergarten. There is not a person alive who has not played some version of the game. And yet...what, exactly is "it"? When defining it for my Pronoun Quiz I reffered to "it" as something that "mankind has dreaded for centuries". What made me say such a thing. What is it about the unknown, mysterious and faintly ominous "it" that makes people dread it so much? Even the most innocent of children know that to be "it" is to be a virtual outcast of society. The youngest child knows that no sane person would want to be "it". Recently a group of TAB members, myself included, set about finding out what "it" exactly is. We conducted "field research" (we played a game of tag). When I became "it" I declared that I was touching the bench I was standing on so it became "it" and the bench was touching the ground, and the ground was touching everything on earth, except for airplanes and stuff but even the ground was touching AIR which was touching more air and so on and so on untill the very AIR was touching the airplanes and the airplanes became "it". So...the entire earth has actually been "it" from the first game of tag and WE JUST NEVER KNEW IT! I know, I'm just as shocked as you, Hypothetical Reader. *shakes head* And all along we had thought that we could somehow absolve ourselves of the burden of being "it" simply by passing it on to another. But that is not true. We merely pass the awareness of being "it" on but never the actual quality of being "it". The question was raised: Where did the first "it" on Earth come from. It was a thought provoking question. Some thought that perhaps the first person to invent tag was the original "it". I, however, favored an extraterristrial origin. My current theory is that the meteor that supposidly killed off the dinosaurs was the original "it", and that it "tagged" the earth, thereby causeing the earth to be "it". The dinosaurs, of course, could not handle the burden of being "it" which resulted in mass suicides. The mammals, being nothing but idiot rodents at the time, couldn't care less about being "it" and eventually forgot all about it. Until, that is, some half-remembered special memory popped out of some five year old's brain and he/she invented tag. Some people found holes in my theory: How did the meteor become "it"? After much discussion and deliberation, we came to a group consensus that the so called "Big Bang" was actually all the players of the game scattering. Similar to the beggining of a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek. The players begin huddled together, but when the game starts they scatter and flee from the person/planet/rock who is "it". The only difference I can think of is that rather than passing the "it"ness on, the players merely add to the number of people who are already "it". My theory would also account for the current scientific opinion that the planets/galaxy/universe is moving away from the origin point of the Big Bang. After all, if there's no base, why return to where you started? You wanna put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. Critics wanted to go further, was anyone "it" BEFORE the Big Bang. My arguement is this: No one is "it" before you begin a game. Any "it" before the Big Bang was part a seperate game, and would therefore be considered a different "it" from the "it" that we fear so much. So I believe the question to be a moot point. *blinks* What's that, Loyal Reader? I have confused you with my trivalties? You do not understand my obsession with "it"? Shame on you, Reader! Haven't you learned yet that it's my JOB to confuse you and make no sense? Tsk-Tsk. Oh, well. Gotta go! I'm back, but only for about five seconds. Just a little side note here: Remember that rant I did about "pure" water? (don't even get me started) In it I mentioned that fast-food salt lists its ingredients, right? Well, here they are! *takes package of Burger King Iodized Salt out of pocket* Drumroll please...and the ingredients are: salt, sodium silico aluminate, dextrose, and 0.01% potassium iodide. Wasn't that painstakenly accurate? A hundreth of a percente of the salt was potassium iodide! You can't get much more accurate than that. Don't you think that "pure" water has much MORE than 0.01% of some random mineral? Why don't THEY list it, huh? *shakes head* *mutters* Evil, "pure" water companies... *wanders off muttering to self and acting like a crazy hobo* Seeya... I'm back! And I have yet another footnote to a previous rant! You remember that "infinite possibilities" rant? Here's a quote from a supposed Time Traveler: "Every possible thing that can happen or will happen has already happened somewhere." I love it! Here's another one: "On a philosophical level, the existence of multiple worlds implies a moral balance in the superverse. For every worldline you perform a good action, there is a worldline where you perform a bad action. There are no good and bad people, just good and bad decisions. We can only be responsible for what we do as individuals on the worldline we are on now. " These are all exactly what I've been thinking of when I first came up with my infinite universe thingy to tell my little brother when he was bored and wanted his head to explode! Seeya! I'm back. And I just wanted to say that I went to Islands of Adventure (in Universal Studios) yesterday. It was incredible! If you wanna here about the awesome rides, (esp. the Spiderman ride, best 3-d effects and vitual reality I've EVER seen...) just click here. *shrugs* This way, if you don't wanna here me rant about it, you can here some guy PAID to rant about it rant about. But if you don't want to, you don't got to. Seeya! I'm back! Wow...*shakes head* My mother never ceases to be amusing. Since today IS mother's day, I shall devot this text to her...even if it is a bit of satire or whatever. You see...my mother has found a new "religion". She is reading some book written by some bimbo who has been to "the other side" and conversed with her "spirt guardian" or whatever and decided to share her "relevations" with people willing to pay a lot of money for garbage. At least...that's my opinion of it. My mother, however, takes it all VERY seriously. For instance, today at our (almost normal) dinner out she instructed me on the way to get to heaven. It involved opening a door. Seriously. Anyway...apparantly once you perish in this realm you are taken to a set of doors. The door on the right leads directly to heaven (do not pass "Go" do not collect $200). The door on the left "zaps you into someone's uterus" which, loosely translated, means that you get reincarnated. This is the "bad" choice. I know this because my sister expressed an intrest in being reincarnated and my mother looked at her with an expression of horror and said solemnly that if she did that "God would never forgive" her. She then proceded to tell us that if you were reincarnated you had to live out multiple lives until you were ready for heaven. *shakes head* Maybe I'm missing something, but if "God would never forgive" someone who innocently chose the wrong freakin' door, wouldn't that indicate that such a person would be barred from heaven forever? Isn't there just the SLIGHTEST bit of inconsistancy here? Why would somebody get punished by randomly choosing the wrong (apparantly unlabeled) door? Look. I don't mean to offend...~.< If you happen to be part of this religion (which prophecies Elvis's return sometime this year (2004) as "a blond hair, blue-eyed boy") then that's your choice. I definitly don't want to get in any theological debates here. So...I'll move on the a relatively safer topic. The National Enquirer. They're obsessed with Elvis, too, for some reason. I just don't understand why people care. I mean, Elvis is always reported as being: abducted by aliens, frozen in a tube in Area 51, having a brain transplant and is now the Pop-Star Britney Spears, and stuff like that. One song I've heard even equates Elvis with Jesus, for cryin' out loud! ("You're no Jesus, You're no Elvis" (From Megolomaniac, by some band). Why do people obsess over that poor, most likely dead, man? The world may never know. ( And don't even get me started on Tootsie Roll Pops). Anyway, I guess my point is that the book my mom is reading has a similar dedication to accuracty, hard-hitting facts and common sense as the famed National Enquirer (which confidently predicted several months ago that Michael Jackson's "secret Muslim bride" would exonerate all charges of child molestation against him. Which, in case you live on the moon, has NOT happened and probably never will). Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day...I'll probably post something in l33t eventually...seeya! I am back. (REAL introduction: Heh-Heh…I had ANOTHER sugar rush. And I was just a little bit hysterical. The following is my intro I wrote while sugar rushed, and various messages I sent to people while in the same state. Don’t worry if you can’t understand it…you aren’t supposed to. *sigh* The whole thing is just a blur of those wiggly red lines spell-check uses to tell you that stuff is spelled wrong…) I back! hee-hee! here is ANother sugar coated rant! and I am typing the intro while still hyper/slepepy. you see, i drank Sobe energy drink, a cup of sugar (just sugar) and ate cake (yet agina, late at night). So this was the result in various messages I left random peolple. *giigleing * Heee0-Heeeee! Sugar isf so very good1 and so is Sobe energy drink (sobe stands for 'soper'! *wavres hand* you see, i THOUGHT that i had recovered because i am no longler laughing so much! But, as you can see I do'nt think I'm am quite baCK TO normal. yet. whatever normal is... i am swayinhg to an imaginary breeze!@ and i don't care that i amn missplesling so many workds. because i am sure you will figure it wout someohow. il am very creative with words. do you like sugar? why DILD you get all freaky like me when i ate suo much sugart. ? zI vcan'y believe that we actually did that to thos e magazines...we so stupid. erm...ummmmm...i sure do hope we remember all of this. don't forget: we owe the library $4 each. That was all spel;ed coirecltly because it was important. i want to sleep now. but ever ei nlsince i ate that cup of sugrar it is to tired t o sleep. imagineation that. er jd f....er...eum...ye ah. *scurnches up eyebrows* Heh-Heh...the Song of Solumnun. good wuvs EVERYBODY! those incompetent physics/stupid rays must have really hit ius hard! either (say it so it rhymes with neither )with an long "I" sound)) that or we were jhust especially suseptible to the thing-a-ma-bnobober.s will wyou right me cback? i hope so. it'll be especially great if you right me when you are all sugary, too. who says you need drugs or thwatherver to have fun? sugar is very cheap, and makes everything so very, very funhy. *slams hand on tasble* OUch. That hurnt . Iam still wet from the watergun fight. It rocked! All that shorrtting and stuff! I got so many head-shots...er...can your brother see yet? I'm sorry i hit his eyes...dozens of times in a row. It was just so fun! we should do that somethimg again. you guys weren't taking it very seriously , though... *snickers* Hee-kheee...funny stuff. I ate a CUP of sugar. mmmm...sugar...I wis swaying in the place. Sugar and me, we don't g et along so well since I react to it like most people react to beingg drunk or under the ijnnnclunce of other suttff. Oh, god...sugar. i'm gonnat add another sugar rant to the longest text ever (just two ever)!sand for people who dont' know me...know,...i do k not do stuff. It's just that sugar under the wright surcumstances is doin' stuff... Okay. Is done. Mike the Headlessc hickrn day is coming up! seeya later! I'm back. It has been a year since the Evil Graduation Post. Which means that this year I got to attend my OWN graduation. Woo. I must say that I was rather underwhelemed by the whole thing. *shrugs* Sure, the fireworks were spectacular...and there was BEAUTIFUL weather. Cool, (not sufficatingly hot) absolutly no gnats for the first time in YEARS, no rain, just nice, soothing speeches that made absolulty no sense. At one point, our priniciple yelled at the graduating class because we weren't listening to him. The audience (consisting of parents) booed at him. So the principal yells at the PARENTS! What was he THINKING!? It's a good thing he's leaving, soon, because otherwise he'd probably been fired. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you of the dangers of broccolii: It's a form of lichen/moss that grows abundantly on certain sectors of Mars. In recent years, it has been cultivated by farmers into a semi-toxic product meant to augment the on-going brain-washing of young children, with the sole purpose being to turn them into Young Adults. Seeya! I'm back. I'm just gonna be here for a little while *demonstrates with fingers* so you don't have to worry 'bout crazy, paranoid rants. I just wanted to mention that former President Reagan apparantly declared ketchup to be a vegetable. Isn't that GREAT! I love ketchup so much...I don't even like FRIES...I eat 'em 'cause they are a means to convey KETCHUP to my mouth...mmmm....ketchup. Oh. Poor, poor Reagan ( he died last week...) Hasta Luego (means seeya later) I'm back. *sigh* This dang chatterbot is taking up WAY too much of my time! There's constantly things that needed fixing, updating and improving! Bah! But, I'm obsessed, and I've always been interested in simulated artificial intelligence :) Anyway, I'm making her personality really paranoid (she's based on me). Here are her thoughts concerning cows: *glances around* Just between you and me: I think there is some sort of dairy conspiracy! Ah, the power of cheese! Think about it: they are trying to sub-consciously tell you that THEY hold the power...of CHEEESE! And there are few things more powerful than THAT! Plus, the so-called "dairy farmer's of America" who pay for the Cheese commercials OBVIOUSLY have a virtual monopoly on the whole dairy thing. They even require that cheese get that little "real cheese" stamp before anyone considers it to be REAL cheese. Have you ever tasted fake cheese? Anyway, my point is that it is getting increasingly harder to find the time to make new quizzes, (or add pics to that destiny quiz), and to make coherent entries into this longest text ever. *sniffle* I try, though! It's just that it's so FUN to teach PSOPC bot subtle things, that maybe one in every 1000 visitor will stumble on to! Like, when she accuses you of being on of THEM, and you say "yes" she starts to panic, and won't listen to you unless you say somthing to get her attention. Ahhhhhhh. Well, anyway, enough about my little obsession. No sense in boring you all with the little technicall details (frankly, pandorabots has the training interface done really well...there is almost no need to know ANYTHING about programming...which, frankly...I don't...^^;;) Er....I guess that's all I have to say now...I don't really have much more parnoid conspiracies or strange observations to make. Er...I guess I could discuss something that has already become obsolete. Have you ever been to subway? You have, *nods* yeah...I love that place, too. Anywaaaays, I went there once and I noticed a poster in the window. It showed people of every size, shape and color, all of them in little pics in little neat boxes. The text read: Different People Differnt Tastes. Okay. I could easily see what it was TRYING to say: There is something for EVERYONE at Subway (eat fresh). But my very first thought was: Whoa, hey, are they CANNIBALS!? Because I interpretted it to mean that different people TASTED differnt, and that's what the subs were made out of and why there was such a great variety. Er...I know, Hypothetical Reader...not the best example of my eccentric thought proccess...but it's the first one that came to mind. *sigh* You know, come to think of it, I bet I HAVE dwindled back down to two and half readers (if that). After all...look how LONG this thing is getting! And, well, quite frankly, people are mostly contacting me about PSOPC bot, the OFCEM or the Quizzes, and *sniffle* mostly ignoring this little (note the irony) page. Well, seey later! I'm back. And, for the first time in quite some time, I am truly pissed off...and this is the only way I can vent my anger. Gah! Well, I suppose you'll need to know some back story, huh. (WARNING: CONTENTS OF THIS PASSAGE MAY CONTAIN DANGEROUSLY LOW LEVELS OF HUMOR, IRONY AND SARCASM. READING THIS PASSAGE MAY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS: LACK OF INTEREST, BOREDOM AND A GENERAL SENSE THAT THIS IS NOT LIKE NORMAL RANTS ABOUT PARANOIA, STRANGE OBSERVATIONS AND FAMILY QUIRKS) To begin with, I JUST got a job as a cashier slave at K-Mart. NEVERMIND the fact that I've worked at the daycare for A WHOLE YEAR, just so I wouldn't have to work for my final Summer of Freedom. Apparantly, my dad does not want me to actually USE any of the money I made from my previous job to buy college supplies. Instead, he wants me to learn the horrors of minimum wage employment and induce me to to strive to succede in the college world. NEVERMIND the fact that my previous job gave me LESS money...I apparantly STILL need to understand that there is more to life than $5.50 an hour. GAH! I KNEW that most jobs sucked unless you had a degree (and even then, most STILL sucked)! Why bother to teach me THE SAME FREAKIN' LESSON AGAIN!? Eh. I didn't argue, mostly 'cause my dad IS paying for most of the college expenses...so I am grateful. I just hate K-Mart. So...today was my biggest shift ever, from 3 pm to 8 pm. It's the latest I've ever worked, too. I know it's NOTHING compared to a full time job...but it's still enough to make me snap. FIRST OF ALL...well...there weren't a lot of customers during the first half of my shift. Blessing, or horrible boredom? In either case, I managed to obtain a Bag of Air from a purse someone bought, and (true to form) instead of discarding said air bag, I drew a face on it and decided that it was my pet, Bag. Oh, me and Bag had great times. I taught Bag how to return (I threw him at a fan and he blew into my face). I introduced Bag to a customer I knew (after they left and I was alone, even I knew that talking to a Bag is weird). *sigh* I hugged and squeezed Bag harder than I have ever squeezed a Moose, because I knew that Bag didn't have stuff like organs. The worst that could have happened that he would have exploded in my face, blinding me forever. Ahhhhh...Bag. Then...*sniffle* tragedy struck. I left my register to get something to restock the candy...and when I came back...Bag was missing! Frantic, I looked around, and saw, before my very eyes, a fellow cashier puncture my precious Bag with a key! They had thought that Bag was garbage! I had customers and so I had to deal with them, with a false smile plastered painfully on my face, while all the while I was repeating over and over the horrible scene. Once the customers left (after what seemed like an eternity) I rushed over to wear I had seen Bag. He wasn't there. I looked in the garbage can...he wasn't there. I looked in some nearby boxes...he wasn't there. I couldn't ASK the other cashier what she had done with Bag...no one at K-Mart knows my true weird nature yet. So...I regretfully had to forego giving Bag his needed funeral respects. We had some good times together...and we had JUST started to bond when his life was ended. I knew that it would happen, eventually. Even if I had managed to bring him home, I would eventually have lost interest. Bag was the perfect companion for my boring hour and a half. But Bag was no more. As the time dragged on, more and more customers came. During the last hour, the customers started to dwindle off (cool word, huh...dwindle...say it! Dwiiiiiindle...) I was once again left bored. I eventually grabbed a piece of cardboard (hmmmm...that came discarded from a bag I sold, too...coincidence? I think not!) and started to draw a cute little bunny and a tiger...(GAH! I think I left that at the register...I bet that EVIL other cashier is throwing it away, right NOW!). I was able to draw in peace for a while, with only the most minor of customer interruptions. Then...the other Cashier went on her brake. We are allowed 15 minutes for our breaks. She went 17 minutes before I my shift was over. Can you guess what happened? *sigh* I HAD been planning to close up shop at about 7:53 and clock out on TIME for once ( I usually close when I'm supposed to leave and end up clocking out 5 minutes after). So...I am looking forward to doing a little shopping (for hand-held Nerf guns) before my parental unit came to pick me up. So, predict, if you will, what happend exactly 10 mintues before I was going to close. You can't? Well...let me tell you: EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE STORE APPARANTLY DECIDED THAT IT WAS TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE. Not all at once, oh, no, they were more subtle than that. At first, all I felt was mild annoyance. I even thought, oh, I guess I won't finish my pic. Then, ten more people were in the line. I thought about asking the last person to prevent more people from entering, but I though, Hey, why bother? It's not as if there can be many more people in the store, right? Wrong. As I widdled (another cool word) my way through the customers, MORE KEPT COMING. After barely having any ALL DAY, all of them swarmed like a hive of malevolent bees. GRRRRRR... This time I DID ask the last person to keep others out. Everyone seemed to be amused. I was the only cashier, where would other people go? I explained that they could check out at the service deck, which was an exhausting 25 ft away (I was more polite though). Finnally. It was 8:05 and I was on my last customer. I was irratated that I wouldn't have enough time to get the Nerf gun, but other than that I was just eager to get home. Ahhh...those last customers. I think they were sent just to try my patience. First of all, they bought a few expensive items. They gave me a gift card, and they still had $59 left to pay. They tried to pay with credit, but it turned out they didn't have enough dough in their account to pay. So, they wrote me a check for half the ammount, and then tried to pay the rest with credit. The credit machine froze. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, I walked those hazardous 25ft to the service desk to ask for assistance. I waited while the person delt with a customer. I heard someone call my name. MY customers were frantically gestering to me. So I walked back. It seems that they had overestimated their credit account. BUT, their boyfriends showed up and gave them 5 bucks, so they gave THAT to me and then paid the rest with credit. They left, I closed up. I shut my register off at 8:20 pm. I glanced outside and saw my parental waiting on me. I angrily stalked all the way to the back, and clocked out. Then I stalked back and got in the car, at 8:30pm. I was furious. I had suppressed ALL emotions while actually working, but as soon as I stepped away from that register my dam broke and I was awash in them. Gah! Suppression of self (my technique for dealing with any situation involving strangers) just applified my anger by suppressing it. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was mutilate and slaughter helpless animals on my favorite video game (supposidly, the point of the game is to save the world, but I just like shooting the life like animals). Of course, when I got to the PS2...the game was not there. I had left it in my OLD PS2 that I had taken with me on my vacation. The PS2 is in a box, right next to me at this very moment. The game is inside it. I COULD plug it in and obtain the game...but by now I have mostly excorized my emotions by reliving them by adding to this Longest Text Ever. I KNOW it was a petty thing to get angry about...but I didn't want to job to begin with. (And poor, poor Bag...) I never WANTED a job where you might not get off on time...like my friends always complained about McDonalds. Like them, if there are still customers...I can't leave! To make matters worse, it doesn't even feel as if I am working for money, since all I earn goes in a bank account for my future use. I am present oriented! I don't care about some hypothetical future! It's as if I am working for the sole purpose of making my dad happy. Eh...well...enough whining from me... Seeya. Hiya! And I have a GREAT conspiracy/paranoid rant! Don't you just feel all warm and gooey inside, like melted cheese? Suprisingly enough, this is the topic of today's rant: cheese. Mmmmmmmm...cheese. Mild Cheddar, Mozzerella, Feta, Montery Jack, Colby...Mmmmm...or what about that Queso Blanco they use in Mexican resteraunts? Mmmmm... I love cheese, and chances are: You love it, too. There are even commercials, just for cheese. Not even a particular BRAND of cheese, just the entire CONCEPT of cheese. "Ahhhh, the power of cheese!" And I couldn't agree more. But...it HAS come to my attention somehow or another that this is and EVIL arrangement. Think about it for one moment. Have you EVER seen a commercial urging you to buy, for instance, burgers? Just burgers. In general. No mention of McDonald's or Wendy's, or those frozen Bubba Burgers. Just...ya' know, the CONCEPT of burgers? How about pain medication? Bannanas? Milk? Ah! There we go. Milk. Just about EVERYONE has seen those GOT MILK? commercials. Every school in my county has a cafeteria chock FULL of posters of celebraties with milk mustaches, with the logo: GOT MILK? Hmmmmm...sooooooooo...just WHAT do CHEESE and MILK have in common? Let's see...BOTH are owned by the United Dairy Farmers of America. Hmmm...and it seems that OTHER countries have similar such organizations. In fact, there is even a CHICKEN Farmers organization (although apparantly it is not United). But other food stuffs organizations just don't seem to be as active as these mysterious dairy farmers. Hmmmm... Why bother to advertise a product, without bothering to promote a single company or brand name? Wouldn't you think that the companies could handle the advertising themselves? I know Kraft does: *sing*K-R-A-F-T. And lots of companies harp on the ammount of calcium in cheese. Sooo..why do the FARMERS advertise milk and cheese? Is it all a vast conspiracy? After all, this mysterious, spooky organization owns ALL THE CHEESE. Shocking, isn't it? So, this complete monopoly of the cheese world controls virtually all prices for all cheese/dairy items, including: Cheese Pizza, Ice Cream, Milk, Cheese, CheeseBurgers, Tacos, Cheesy Bread, Cheese Doritos, Nacho Cheese, Butter, Etc. (Etc. is not actually a dairy product, consisitng mostly of an ecletic mix of random items, but I figured that it would work to show the continuing theme of dairy type items. ) Why does the government allow such a monopoly to exist? Are they FUNDED by the government? Let's see *does a google search* Ooooo! Pay Dirt! I'm not the only one to see the evils of Got Milk! THIS SITE has an arcticle about the anger of small dairy farmers for the monopoly of the "Got Milk?" people. Jeff Manning, Executive Director of the California Milk Processor Board is apparantly in charge of this. What a strange title. Hmmmm...*scans the article* Oooo! They notice the non-brand-specific advertising! And it says how they are funded: "So-called “generic” advertising programs such as “Got Milk?” and “Ahh, the power of cheese” are funded, in part, through the congressionally authorized dairy checkoff, which places a mandatory assessment of 15 cents per hundredweight (roughly two cents per gallon) on all milk domestically produced and marketed commercially. Last year, the dairy checkoff raked in more than $250 million in hard-earned dairy producer money. " Soooo in essence, they ARE funded by the government (or at least in the sense that the government STEALS the small dairy farmer's money to pay for the ads). And they were sued by a small farmer who said: "We’re against having to fork over a huge portion of our bottom line for advertising that says all milk is equal." So they don't WANT to pay for the ads, but the government (and that California Dairy thingy) say they have to. Ha! That's hilarious! These stupid Dairy Conglomorate people are actually PAYING a town to rename itself "Got Milk" with those small dairy farmer's money! That's so pointless! It's like they are having these HUGE brain-storming sessions to see how they can best squander those small dairy people's money! "Hmmmm...Bob, why don't we buy all those "Largest Block of Cheese" roadside attractions and make a monument with them, entitled 'Ahhh, the power of cheese!'?" "Brilliant, Ted! But, I'd like to go one step further! Let's make an entire CITY out of cheese!" "Bob, that's it! Wait...wait! I think I GOT IT! Let's BUY a CITY the idiot yokels to CHANGE THEIR NAME TO GOT MILK! That way, we can still have those cheese ideas to fall back on afterwards!" *shakes head* It's so pathetic. *does happy dance* See, here I was ranting and raving about this, and it turns out that there already ARE people outraged! It's like that rant about the smoke detectors, and later I saw a movie about spy cameras in them. Or that Grape Pie Rant that ended up with me doing a google search months later (When I was bored) and discovering a pic of it...mmmm....grape pie. It's incredible how many strange things I can get outraged about, only to discover that they aren't strange at all! Well...seeya! Wootage! I'm back! And I have a new rant about the evils of parental brain-washing during childhood. Consider it a combo of the "Tag" rant and the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rant. *shudders* How could I have missed such obvious implecations!? Gah! I shall focus! Alright...the subject of today's whatchamacallit is: Duck, Duck, Goose! It is EVIL! Now, I KNOW that most of what small children learn is actually not-so-cleveraly disguised brain-washing attempts, but this is just plain wrong! For those of you not familiar with the game, let me summarize. One child is "it" (JUST like in Tag). This child, labels each of the children, usually as "duck". The other children are sitting in a circle, and the "it" child walks around tapping their heads, going: "Duck, Duck, Duck"... Simple enough, right? Ah, but THEN the "it" child picks somebody ELSE to be "it", and tap the unfortunate victim on the head, crying "Goose!". Then the "goose" must pursue the "it" one and attempt to tag them. If they do not tag the "it" child, the "goose" becomes "it". If they succede in tagging them, the "it" child goes in the "mush pot" and the "goose" becomes "it" anyway. Alright. Now you know what the game IS...let's move onto what it MEANS. First of all, the game is CLEARLY a mock witch hunt. The children alienate and ostracize the one who is different, the one who is a "goose" when everyone else are "ducks". The "it" child is the current pariah, and obviously wants to exchange situations with a more fortunate child. So, the "it" child desperatly accuses another of being a "goose" (just as condemned witches accused others of witchcraft in order to alleviate their sentence). The child, symbolically shocked and appaled by such wild accusations, denies it, and even goes so far as to pursue the accusing pariah. If the accusation is deemed false (i.e. the "goose" tags the "it") then the accusing "it" child is sent to exile (the mush pot). HOWEVER, the taint of suspicion is already upon the former "goose" and despite protestations to the contrary, the child is the new "it" pariah. And the game continues. This game is DESIGNED to teach children how to shun those who are different, and to ostracize them from society if neccessary! How can this POSSIBLY be one of those little life's lessons that children must learn to become Responsible Adults? *shakes head in disgust* Well, anyway, that's it for today! Seeya! I'm back! *giggles wildly* Woot! I have something EXTRA SPECIAL for you loyal readers *cricket chirps yet again...what is UP with that?*! "Meg", the inspiration to that Pointless Signs of America Rant, has "agreed" to do a rant for us! It's GREAT! *giggles* Well, here it is: "Meg" here. Jenny has kindly asked aka threatened me to do a guest rant, and I am only too happy to oblige. So here I am ready to inform you of silly things! Let's start! Go! Go! It has come to my attention that Barbie has finally found a new love. That's right. Bye-bye to boring Ken! Here comes Australian surfer Blaine! At this point, a few of you will be screaming: "No! Ken and Barbie forevaaaaa!" An insane percentage of you will be going: "Oh, that is so cute, Barbie and Blaine! That's great cause, like, both of their names start with B! Heehee!" But most of you will be wondering if that leftover pizza a week ago that is still in the fridge is eatable. Trust me on this, it's not. So why am I bringing this up? How many of you remember playing with Barbies? (The guys reading this.pretend it's G.I. Joe and his buddies.) Remember when you ripped off Barbie's head and it gave that satisfying pop? And how there was always one Ken doll and a whole bunch of Barbies? And Ken had to choose from his little harem which one he wanted? It was actually training to make you used to Reality TV! The Bachelor is eerily similar to the game you played as a child. Ken has to choose between Vet Barbie, Cowgirl Barbie, Teacher Barbie, and Dolphin Trainer Barbie! There's also a million dollars thrown into the mix! (Guys: G.I. Joe has to decide which of his buddies to vote off the island or something.) Ken was always a favored one! But now with him gone, (Barbie was quoted saying something like, "So long, ya pansy!) how will young girls (and boys) tolerate Reality TV when they are older? Mattel and TV producers are realizing their mistakes, so they decided to hold a vote for the "new man" of Barbie. This vote again was a little Reality TV thing in progress. The Bachelorette this time. Who will Barbie choose? The trendy new guy she chose which, over 2 million people decided, was Blaine. Now, girls (and boys) will be racing to get him and the many clothes and surfboard accessories he will undoubtedly have. Marketing goes up, and a new generation of potential Reality TV watchers is created. The endless cycle continues. I hope you enjoyed my rant! And remember! May Blaine always help the masses decide: American Idol Barbie or Survivor Barbie. Wasn't that GREAT!? *giggles* I luvs it! Ahhhh...the joys of paranoid conspiracy ranting without any of the effort! Go, "Meg"! Well...er...seeya! Well, I’m back! *waits for applause* … … … … ANYWAY, today I am here with a very special treat for you loyal *insert random insect noise here* readers! Don’t you feel extra squishy? I’m here to “advertise” a wonderful product found ONLY (to my knowledge) at K-Mart (where I am a Cashier Slave of questionable Loyalty). Okay, here goes the commercial I have prepared: How would YOU like your four-year-old sibling/cousin/offspring/neighbor/pest to have ALL the fun and excitement of BIKING with none of those annoying little distractions, like being able to STOP at will? Well, you are in luck, Hapless Victim, because have WE the bike for YOU! Introducing the Tyke Byke (not actual product name) now with 100% less brakes! Wasn’t that fun AND entertaining? Seriously, though, I was bored and waiting for my shift to start (we can’t clock in early) and I happened to wonder into the bike section. And I found a box with a picture of a happy little girl on it, wearing her helmet. The box listed features of the bike, and (off to the side, in one of those happy little many-pointed stars where they usually write stuff like FREE!) was the words No Brakes! Like this was a GOOD thing! What the …? I thought brakes HELPED YOU! And to think, after all these years I have been wrong!? But seriously, can you IMAGINE the Marketing committee that designed this thing? I figure it was made of, say, Hitler, a cannibal, Satan and Mary Poppins (anyone else creeped out by her?) Here was their justifying equation (which I obtained through highly classified means, namely, a squirrel, a pack of walnuts and a mini-camera) Toddler + Tyke Byke + highway = hours of fun! I figure they WANTED small children to go careening into random objects. Why else would they give ‘em no brakes? Anyway, I better go, I have this GREAT idea for a gun without a safety, and a very sensitive trigger. ..Wow..I"m back......it's been an entire year...and here I am again...pointlessly ranting and raving. Today's topic is Quaker Oats! You know Quaker Oats, right? Do a google search and find a picture, I dare you. Chances are you'll find a creepy looking older white guy dressed all old fasioned...if that's not bad enough: read on. It turns out that Quaker Oats OWNS the Aunt Jemima syrup company. Aunt Jemima is symbolized by a middle aged african american woman. Now, let's think....hrrm...the time frame that the Quaker Oats guy is from...plus owning a middle aged african american woman...wait a minute! Are they implying that she's a slave!? What kind of public image are they trying to portray here!? The NERVE of that company! *shakes head* They really need to have a better publicist.... Ah well, there's your LTE rant of the day/week/month/year/insert time frame ehre. Enjoy ^^ Heh, well, I’m once again back. This time from a long hiatus involving College life, kiwi’s and cannibalism ^_^ But let’s ignore that for now, shall we? Today we have MUCH more important things to discuss ^_^ Like a certain warranty on a certain pair of a certain headphones at a certain store that a certain someone works at a certain summer after returning from a certain college. Like most warranties, it guarantees the safety of the product for a limited time, and promises you fame, fortune, and your money back if it breaks during that time. That, however, is where this warranties similarities to the norm cease. Are you ready? *waits* How ‘bout now? *wait wait* STILL not ready? Bah, forget you, I’ll go on anyway. *clears throat* I shall now paraphrase the warranty to you, in all it’s arcane glory and splendor. This warranty shall not be in effect in the cases in which : 1.) The product is purposefully damaged. 2.) The product is accidentally damaged. 3.) An act of God damages the product. ……….*pause for effect* There you have it folks. This beee-autiful warranty will NEVER be in effect. It just won’t. No matter what happens, the company issuing the warranty can just blame it on God. I can just see just such a scenario playing out in my head…….*wavy thought lines scene transition indicating an imaginary scene* Ted: Yes, I’m calling to cash in on my 90-day money back warranty? Customer Service Agent: *snicker* Oh really? *polite, polite* Would you please describe the damage or malfunction your purchase is experiencing? Ted: …it just stopped working. Customer Service Agent: *dripping with phony concern* Oh, gee, sir…but it seems that “just stopped working” falls under our “Act of God” clause, and our company cannot be held responsible for any vendettas that God may have against you. Ted:…………….you’re telling me that because God hates me, my headphones stopped working? And that you won’t give me my money back? Customer Service Agent: *can’t hold it in any longer* *laughing until they gasp* Oh…God…that gets me every time…*gasp* *giggle* That’s just great….Sir, I suggest *wheeze* That you go to Church…*snicker* And see if you can’t convince God to fix it for you….*guffaw* Because…you’re waaaaaaaay more likely to get him to reimburse you then us! *hangs up* So, you see? I am extremely impressed by this quick thinking company. If only I, too, could think of a way to so totally, and successfully scam my customers. Oh. Wait. I do. Every day, ……darn those Customer Service Plans! How stupid does a customer have to be to think that they should pay $20 now to insure their purchase of some stupid grill? If it breaks it would probably take 10 bucks to fix it. *sigh* Why must K-mart compromise my honor? Ack! I spoke its name! *flee* Alright I'm Baaaa~ack! That's right. Back from the dead like a fiery phoenix of nonsense and ranting, I return from months and months of not posting (and to make things even more interesting i won't mention anywhere else on the site that I made a new lte post!) So, today's topic is just on the concept of writing. I go to a very math oriented college (i'm gonna be a programmer) so the people here....just....really...suck at writing. Completely! *happy* So for a small nominal $50* fee I shall teach you, the Hypothetical Reader, how to write grade A quality stories, guaranteed! ** (* $50 shall be payable in invisible, imaginary Official Flaming Chickens Lunar Colony's Dollars (approx $1 OFCLC is $1,337,000,000,00 in US dollars, circa 1957) ** not a guarantee) So are you ready? Let's start with a basic story even a kindergartner would write! Once upon a time there was a princess and a witch was making her sad but then a handsome prince came and killed the witch and made the princess happy. really happy. i mean really, really happy. sometime three or four times a night. and they lived happily ever after. What a touching story, right? Let's see here, what basic story elements are we missing...Why don't we check the formula for a successfull story, shall we? good story = plot + character development + orginality I could continue, but I'm alread bored. Cya! ^_^ Back to Top 374123 days 'til the end of the world email me here! Email: flamingchickens333@hotmail.com
• Gunnar S 6 september 2021
  Får man gå på bio nu??
• amanc 26 december 2021
  Hello all my viewers my name is bob lee am here to share my testimony on how I won power jackpot with help of Dr clement, I want to use this opportunity to thank Dr clement who casting black magic spell for me to win the power jackpot last week then i won about 4 million pounds, I have been playing this lottery for the past 4 years now and i have not be able to wining not on till i meet Dr clement which so many people have be talking about in the internet, which so many people have be talking about then i also contact him truly i won. Ever since then i have not been able to wining i waste so much many on tickle. and i was so upset and i needed help to win this power jackpot lottery.so i decided to go online and search for help i saw so many good testimony about this man called Dr clement, how he has cast lucky spell for so many people to win the lottery, then I also contacted him and tell him i want to win lottery, believe me brother and sister he cast a spell and give me the wining number which i use to play, when the game were out i it was like a dream to me i was among the winners i won FOUR million pounds. thank you once again Dr clement you are so grateful to you i we reaming loyal to you because you take me and family away at of poorvity now i can take care of my children. just in-case anyone need such help kindly contact dr clement is good man through his Email: ackugbespiritualtemple@gmail.com, or what-sap +2347051758952 and he will surely help i trust him. just the way he has helped me. i will forever be grateful to you dr clement and we continua to testify to hole world. contact him. all your challenges and situation will be over like all diseases as well FOLLOWING. 1. HIV/AIDS 2. HSV 3 EX back 4. penis enlargement 5. HEPATITIS B 6. DIABETES 7. HPV 8 cancer 9 reading of spell
• Erik V 12 april 2022
  Jag gillar majs
• AGENT MARK 9 oktober 2025
  MEDDELANDE TILL VÄRLDEN Att gå med i Illuminati Brotherhood 666 är ingen lätt uppgift, men om du är modig nog att möta andra sidan jorden kan du kontakta vår agent för att få vägledning. E-post: 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com FÖRMÅNER FÖR NYA MEDLEMMAR 1. Ett hus i valfritt land. 2. En ny drömbil. 3. Summan 1 miljon dollar för att starta ett nytt liv. Du måste vara minst 18 år gammal innan du kan kontakta våra partners. E-post: 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com
• AGENT MARK 9 oktober 2025
  MEDDELANDE TILL VÄRLDEN Att gå med i Illuminati Brotherhood 666 är ingen lätt uppgift, men om du är modig nog att möta andra sidan jorden kan du kontakta vår agent för att få vägledning. E-post: 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com FÖRMÅNER FÖR NYA MEDLEMMAR 1. Ett hus i valfritt land. 2. En ny drömbil. 3. Summan 1 miljon dollar för att starta ett nytt liv. Du måste vara minst 18 år gammal innan du kan kontakta våra partners. E-post: 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com 666illuminatiagent666@gmail.com