tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52131185873006455072024-02-07T02:37:53.326-07:00(Ab)nerdityUnknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-47940721367923419282013-09-17T18:15:00.001-06:002013-09-17T18:15:36.529-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4P3HenMZctgnLebVR_MCxRvQXaZKwfPZJXr2SH35-NWBxx1W3Ezr-mCtCkR09VzPwBq-8IBjdUx-Y3S-fL3jREvrW8nRR9UobcX2xtNQQEXnqP252APBT8JOrIzTqeLqiTmHfHAk1VNQ/s1600/OFFICIALPHOTOBOMB.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4P3HenMZctgnLebVR_MCxRvQXaZKwfPZJXr2SH35-NWBxx1W3Ezr-mCtCkR09VzPwBq-8IBjdUx-Y3S-fL3jREvrW8nRR9UobcX2xtNQQEXnqP252APBT8JOrIzTqeLqiTmHfHAk1VNQ/s320/OFFICIALPHOTOBOMB.png" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-22862806657823227182013-06-07T13:46:00.000-06:002013-06-07T13:46:19.308-06:00The Setup-In Which Nothing Particularly Exciting is Discussed, But Plans are Made. What's this? A blog post? It's been too long. School is over now though, and I have time for life the universe and everything once more. In fact, I was in my bed last night , stressing myself out about morning practice (tales for another day) and thinking....I have a tiny bit of surplus creative and expressive energy. Perhaps I should write on my blog.<br />
Now the issue is....what to write. I suppose that the creative energy exist to a lesser extent than I previously thought. I have many things I could write about, including: my recent fascination with Finland, perilous swim adventures with wicked-fast thirteen-year-olds, my recent attempts at domesticity, or the new found passionate love I have for our Bradypodidae (Three toed Sloth) friends. (Side note: while I was checking the spelling of Bradypodidae, I was attempting to feed my love for Finnish culture by listening to their version of American Idol. Conclusion: Finnish pop music is not for me. I was unpleasantly startled; there were distinct feline sounds coupled with synthesizer. Maybe I just feel that way because I don't know Finnish.)<br />
Because there happens to be a whole host of topics I wish to discuss in the coming weeks and months, I will compile a short list things that certainly need to be addressed:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Mumford and Sons. It's pure banjo happiness. And for the record, banjo happiness is happier than regular happiness. </li>
<li>Of Monsters and Men. It's pure Nordic folk/rock happiness, which is not unlike banjo happiness. </li>
<li>The Decemberists. I can't articulate how fantastically wonderful their lyrics are, even though I'm still not quite sold on "The Hazards of Love". </li>
<li>The perils of being a quiet Trekkie in a world obsessed with the J.J. Abrams reboot. For the record, I did enjoy "Into Darkness", and not just because of Benedict Cumberbatch. </li>
<li>Swimming. Don't get me started. </li>
<li>Things that scare me. </li>
</ul>
<div>
These are a few things that will hopefully be remotely interesting to some of you, and very interesting to one or even two of you. Have a fantastic Friday! </div>
<br />
<br />Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-82417264140459996512012-08-09T13:08:00.001-06:002012-08-09T13:08:57.714-06:00Velveeta Cheese-Real or Not Real?Look at me- posting more than once in a week. Spiffy, right? I honestly have nothing of great importance to say, but I thought I would post anyway.<br />
Now. With regard to the title. I am an avid Hunger Games fan, and a less avid Velveeta cheese fan. As a matter of fact, I don't even really like it. But I eat it. I can't tell you why I eat it. I have no idea. But for some reason, Velveeta 'cheese' is what I always crave after swim practice. I have no idea why. But every day, after I swim, I come home and request (or make) a grilled 'cheese' sandwich. And then I eat it.<br />
This, of course, raises a great internal struggle. I do have a taste for the finer cheeses in life, but I somehow manage to lower my standards to Velveeta. Velveeta? Vel-Veeeet-aaa. Why is it called that? I don't rightly know. I will do some research on the matter and report back shortly.Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-33598154045599377622012-08-07T16:15:00.000-06:002012-08-09T13:10:19.608-06:00Now that I have something to say... Heh. That awkward moment when you realize your best friend has a life outside of you...I don't even know what to do with myself. Okay. Not really. I know exactly what to do with myself-blog! I have been taking a lot of grief for not posting as of late, and I don't like getting grief. There were two ways to stop getting grief.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrqX5x6M7GluAFIu_g6FVqPotSg-iXs3gJ4j8lcm47PaERNjrWCKTDHL-dadY2u7niuLF2cxeqKpKC20eSSRj2JBy6VYrmASIEDQJSi_dNOu2P9zevvtgLaYoj0hbnLaEESXGxgs9Yrk/s1600/Yak.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrqX5x6M7GluAFIu_g6FVqPotSg-iXs3gJ4j8lcm47PaERNjrWCKTDHL-dadY2u7niuLF2cxeqKpKC20eSSRj2JBy6VYrmASIEDQJSi_dNOu2P9zevvtgLaYoj0hbnLaEESXGxgs9Yrk/s320/Yak.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<ol>
<li>Grow a beard and move into a cottage and live out my days raising yaks </li>
<li>Or post. </li>
</ol>
<div>
It took me a while to decide which was easier, but as I did not know a fine purveyor of yaks (or beards, for that matter) I decided to post. So here I am. </div>
<div>
I would love to say that I have had the most exciting summer that anyone could ever think of, but that would be incorrect. It has been a good summer, but I have not gone anywhere particularly exotic. That's okay though, I still have had a great year. Except for one thing. Driver's ed. I have been doing online driver's ed, and it has been a horror, filled with gory videos and lots of "I didn't need to know that!" and desperate boredom. Ugh. Soon I will be done though, and then all will be well. </div>
<div>
With the start of school comes the start of swim. Am I super excited? YES! Will it again proceed to take over my life? PROBABLY! The Olympics have just made me more excited for swim. While I never aspire to greatness of that magnitude (Missy Franklin is my favorite), they do make me want to swim better, faster, and smarter. I can't wait. But with the start of swim, comes the start of other classes. Ugh. I don't know if I'm prepared for that. But I will face whatever comes my way with optimism and courage! Or maybe just binge bagel eating. </div>Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-45796443330507904202012-05-06T19:35:00.000-06:002012-05-06T19:35:05.695-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWYC50aUFfAxL2YcPgSZablRIPW75veKA0rb8oml-4JahRpfQML4YFBW6e4AR-fxFz3kGfgolRi1gk_p25-OQZv0xl8jrFhTtz9TXxuhHizDyuk6re2KhKt8HHDv-csZLwq5l4z6Zzg0/s1600/armadillo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWYC50aUFfAxL2YcPgSZablRIPW75veKA0rb8oml-4JahRpfQML4YFBW6e4AR-fxFz3kGfgolRi1gk_p25-OQZv0xl8jrFhTtz9TXxuhHizDyuk6re2KhKt8HHDv-csZLwq5l4z6Zzg0/s320/armadillo.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I didn't have big plans for an awesome drawing this week, so I uploaded a </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>poorly drawn armadillo that looks like a dinosaur. I hear they have poor eyesight, so </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I gave him glasses. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i>Hello, all. I am posting! I have made a goal to post every Sunday. Who knows if it will actually happen, but it is a nice thought. Many things have happened since my last post. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>I saw the Hunger Games. I was not disappointed.</li>
<li>I had surgery on my evil sinuses. All went well and my nose is much happier.</li>
<li>Track season came and went, but I only got to run in one meet. I was out for two because of the surgery, and then I had a graduation to go to for the last one. </li>
<li>School is almost over!! </li>
</ul>
That really isn't very many things, but they are all very exciting. I can't wait for it to be summer.Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-42646118145068445612012-03-04T21:36:00.000-07:002012-03-04T21:36:14.923-07:00Life! Well this is embarrassing...starting a blog, and then never posting on it. I shall...I shall...turn over a new leaf! I will post! After all this time, I actually have quite a bit to say. Probably more than I have time for tonight. Firstly, swim season is over. I was at a loss, stunned into silence about the prospect of a real social life. I was...free! (This was after the awkward but exciting swim banquet in which I won the rookie of the year award mostly because I had a tendency to put my swim cap on sideways. Whoopee for me...)<br />
But the freedom was short lived. After a few weeks of laziness, I was restless and needed something to do. I didn't have to look far; in fact the answer to my boredom came in the form of a friend of mine, jumping up and down yelling "You WILL do track!". And so I did.<br />
I actually kind of hate running, but I decided to give it a try to see what it was like when you do it for fun. The first few days have NOT been fun, just because of one thing I overlooked when emotionally preparing myself to run: soreness. Not just run-of-the-mill vague discomfort, but agony that made me feel as though my muscles were crying in the terrible agony that can only come from lactic acid buildup. Ibuprofen made not a dent, and the only thing I could do is adopt a pathetic expression on my face and sit while others picked up things I dropped and brought me things. Poor, sad, out-of-shape me.<br />
Change of subject: I know that the purpose of this blog is not to discuss my medical issues, but after a traumatic experience at the ear nose throat doctor, I though I would share this very detailed diagram of my head.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K7XhqLgG1sqf9PRZuSHrTFoiBnRHZlies07zH9rOq0_cNx4RfjiiKNKHBVJTaslVpHUJZhUmRbs0tTrVZADeS1kUoVJf9urHAB6BCDheBarva2rHSYeyIHU6HJef1tNtDnYf9ZfZrXM/s1600/Sinus.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K7XhqLgG1sqf9PRZuSHrTFoiBnRHZlies07zH9rOq0_cNx4RfjiiKNKHBVJTaslVpHUJZhUmRbs0tTrVZADeS1kUoVJf9urHAB6BCDheBarva2rHSYeyIHU6HJef1tNtDnYf9ZfZrXM/s640/Sinus.png" width="640" /></a></div>Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-46085844475734189502012-01-22T15:20:00.000-07:002012-01-22T15:20:04.983-07:00I'm Ba-ack!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelmZw6bqC1G6peo0e3kz8v0kAX8A2jgoIhoMUMyBZLF3CP3roCASTisquXT06GumF587Y03tihe5x7bVjG0xGgzIVPI7LdN1HlZx-5_nxOoCK6Sx2XEl6RXX75uG4suF9_wpsolAOf1k/s1600/Calendar.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelmZw6bqC1G6peo0e3kz8v0kAX8A2jgoIhoMUMyBZLF3CP3roCASTisquXT06GumF587Y03tihe5x7bVjG0xGgzIVPI7LdN1HlZx-5_nxOoCK6Sx2XEl6RXX75uG4suF9_wpsolAOf1k/s320/Calendar.png" width="320" /></a></div> People have been upset lately that I have not been posting. They tell me that they miss my blog, and that I should post again. I then proceed to making an excuse. The reason I haven't been posting on my blog is because... and it goes downhill from there. The actual reason I haven't been posting on my blog is because of swimming. The season is officially over though, and I will now have time to exist. <br />
Swimming has actually been fun though, and I am kind of sad that it is over. I can do more push ups than last year, and I get to wear the cool team jacket. It is all worth it if you get to wear a cool jacket.<br />
Tomorrow is actually my birthday! I will be a year older than I am now, and three years older than I was three years ago. (How is that for specific?) I am probably most excited for the bacon I am having for breakfast. I love bacon. I got my own pair of figure skates (early) from my grandparents to give me something to do while I am not swimming. I was also given permission to see the midnight premier of The Hunger Games so long as my mom won't have to pick me up in jail the next morning. I said we would have to see about the jail part, because I do have a tendency to become irrational late at night.<br />
Well, that's all for today, folks. I hope to be posting more lately!<br />
-GoulashUnknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-69904239031400279992011-10-23T18:57:00.000-06:002011-10-23T18:57:46.520-06:00This Post is Dedicated to Magnolia Who is magnolia, you might ask? Magnolia is one of my best-est buddies, and my cousin. She gets mad when I don't post. So there, Magnolia. I posted.<br />
I realize that I always talk about swim team, but that is what I spend a grundle of time doing. The workouts have become increasingly more difficult, therefore it would be logical for my brain to come up with coping mechanisms to keep it from thinking about the feeling of nearly drowning. One of the most common of these mechanisms is 'What is at the bottom of the pool today?' This is kind of horrifying, but it gives me something to do.<br />
Usually I only see pennies and band-aids once, but rarely there are things that I see more than once, like bobby pins. But there is one thing I have been seeing every day, and is raising in the bottom of my soul a greater and greater alarm. It is big, it is wet, and it's name is Rufus. Rufus is a hairball. He lives at the bottom of the deep end, gathering hairs from all over the pool, and growing slowly, slowly. I believe that someday he will rise from the depths, and suck us all in. I'm terrified. Are you?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfm8UpwJaLFotWeBqJUYOSupPHcwauxTeCc2KS8eJPByMaHDDdBAP0GOKgT7uocTgNO6SmH22LWwJKF_o1F2Jd9BGXb-oKsC1wr1XzEyz4mLYPWWxK-XdsjPuYEmA6iPn52rG1ytsrJ0/s1600/RufusII.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfm8UpwJaLFotWeBqJUYOSupPHcwauxTeCc2KS8eJPByMaHDDdBAP0GOKgT7uocTgNO6SmH22LWwJKF_o1F2Jd9BGXb-oKsC1wr1XzEyz4mLYPWWxK-XdsjPuYEmA6iPn52rG1ytsrJ0/s1600/RufusII.png" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-13178365208401551002011-10-02T21:22:00.000-06:002011-10-02T21:22:13.519-06:00Ahhh....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiikgVhrsQ-0vttySFCc5njSeL1UI49JBwWRQVMGI0q-My52OpgDBkt0lDSN749UsKH_Gkqk_ZXKlGZN_Hvq_hdiQp0gcosixyvNUud61ktafrWjMMHYLuyr_dbf70CsNPrHLt7H1VmnQ/s1600/Toilet+Wand.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiikgVhrsQ-0vttySFCc5njSeL1UI49JBwWRQVMGI0q-My52OpgDBkt0lDSN749UsKH_Gkqk_ZXKlGZN_Hvq_hdiQp0gcosixyvNUud61ktafrWjMMHYLuyr_dbf70CsNPrHLt7H1VmnQ/s320/Toilet+Wand.png" width="320" /></a></div> So. I know I keep saying this, but I had the craziest week. I had stuff every day, and then a swimming camp. But possibly the worst part is that I had to CLEAN THE BATHROOM! I keep trying to come up with arguments about why I shouldn't have to clean it, but as I'm the only one who uses it, I suppose it is only fair that I should clean it. After scrubbing out the tub and beating back the killer hairballs on the scary yellow Formica counters, I decided to clean the toilet. It isn't a fun task, but it needs to be done. I began, and then I realized how I could make it more fun. New Age! (Now, I'm not a huge New Age person, but I do listen now and then.) I sat and listened to the passionate music, and imagined the hopes and dreams of humanity being washed down the bowl with a few shakes of Comet. That made it much more fun.Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-76024502782312514732011-09-23T21:49:00.000-06:002011-09-23T21:49:35.722-06:00Long Week.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytEF11pACNgkrgP6uJq_g4o3MyArARPB_cnnpPq1f8A9zU1Ku63C6MlnDpig_he7Om1DLUw3XwXKVJO91JfhrYA7biqYBujBOGSwYrIZnGIWUyzvnURl9pPPx3e73nnxcKsaB80_U-jA/s1600/Thyroid.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytEF11pACNgkrgP6uJq_g4o3MyArARPB_cnnpPq1f8A9zU1Ku63C6MlnDpig_he7Om1DLUw3XwXKVJO91JfhrYA7biqYBujBOGSwYrIZnGIWUyzvnURl9pPPx3e73nnxcKsaB80_U-jA/s200/Thyroid.png" width="180" /></a></div> Ugh. I am soooo glad that this week is over! It was long. And boring. The highlight was getting blood drawn, which I enjoyed immensely. The doctors were wondering if my thyroid was unhappy. Apparently it is. That means we can be certain my thyroid is physically happy. Mentally, not so much.<br />
I was going to go ice skating with a bunch of friends, but then I realized that I had caught 'The Cold'. It has been getting people for the last few weeks, and I succumbed. Bummer. In my 'Adolescent Existing' class, we have to write in a journal for a while. I made a list of viral hemorrhagic fevers that I <i>don't</i> have, and I felt better about my cold. But it is the weekend, and I will sleep and feel better. That's how it goes.<br />
Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-68765442370697434742011-09-18T21:33:00.000-06:002011-09-18T21:33:38.177-06:00Thoughts I have had a crazy, crazy, week. I think there is more chlorine in my system than iron. I hope my blood turns green. I would be OK with that. I'm on the Chateau d'If swim team. When people hear that I'm on a swim team, they automatically assume that I must be a good swimmer. If only that were true. It tuns out that you don't need to be a good swimmer to be on a team. I actually look like an asthmatic cat having a seizure that got a premature burial at sea.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgqAKKqb_wLbv7tbxDESymNSiF2oN1DyPmEie_vYC8KZF7P1ENsJrRrhq8JVmCK9Rt7OoIIGu32Y-r7joads86StlsodpKGFnk_9Z-DIW_RVu_MQP0aO9aJOAHdB97MN6uPisYNzj2P8/s1600/Flippers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgqAKKqb_wLbv7tbxDESymNSiF2oN1DyPmEie_vYC8KZF7P1ENsJrRrhq8JVmCK9Rt7OoIIGu32Y-r7joads86StlsodpKGFnk_9Z-DIW_RVu_MQP0aO9aJOAHdB97MN6uPisYNzj2P8/s400/Flippers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> That's about what I look like. Yes, I am that white. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> One of the highlights of the practices is when we get to use our fins. I feel like a motorboat. But then my coach tells us to take them off, and we all go back to the drowning asthmatic cat thing. </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-81842803223214238772011-09-14T17:53:00.000-06:002011-09-14T17:53:07.564-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycd2czhnotWOmpt9ZhSmA9CioLbJP8wGv8po0xQHkfkSbFA-e3qjeY8c6cIUS4cN_AWVjSZZhjpekwA82m5W5QbmlqCt6W5XCzVTuNu_KTi8ByzXNsFsvEgCz55SUw-95f3426ElUNa8/s1600/Zombie.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycd2czhnotWOmpt9ZhSmA9CioLbJP8wGv8po0xQHkfkSbFA-e3qjeY8c6cIUS4cN_AWVjSZZhjpekwA82m5W5QbmlqCt6W5XCzVTuNu_KTi8ByzXNsFsvEgCz55SUw-95f3426ElUNa8/s640/Zombie.png" width="640" /></a></div> I haven't posted in a few days. Busy week. I don't really have time to write much now. My mom wants to order nachos. No complaints. I have been becoming increasingly aware of zombies, as well as apocalypses. I am prepared. Are you?<br />
In other news, I seem to have managed to corrupt Microsoft Word at Chateau d'If. How did I manage that? How did I turn an innocent program into a terrible dictator? Did I pull the cruelty and the coldness to the surface? Probably. <br />
Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-12275515749629562932011-09-08T21:52:00.001-06:002011-09-08T21:53:55.514-06:00What were they thinking?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhuHHuB87sNES10TrGpgICVIGeRR09byWD9vgbKKUeCmeaPTMEa9g_bZnT6gMXwIBl3l1bKuMRWdkGkjKB0PQNMjUK88ZrElJR8IFqz-fo3qInsMC4ki1Yad3_iI6FAGUEgryPmUGtvs/s1600/Barf.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhuHHuB87sNES10TrGpgICVIGeRR09byWD9vgbKKUeCmeaPTMEa9g_bZnT6gMXwIBl3l1bKuMRWdkGkjKB0PQNMjUK88ZrElJR8IFqz-fo3qInsMC4ki1Yad3_iI6FAGUEgryPmUGtvs/s640/Barf.png" width="572" /></a> Random thought of the day. What was whoever invented the colored pencil 'Olive Green' thinking? What's up with that? It is an absolutely disgusting color. I couldn't even do it justice on MS paint. I tried. But I just can't quite reach that color that looks like it should be coming out of a dog's every orifice. But I tried. By golly I tried.Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-55612156953001598652011-09-06T20:50:00.000-06:002011-09-06T20:50:36.480-06:00Thought Snatcher<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> I was going to write something incredible today, and I had a long list of thing that I wanted to post. But then I let my guard down. The thought snatcher caught me when my defenses were weak, and feasted on my post ideas. So that is why I don't have any bad puns or awesome stories today. Tragic, isn't it?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_tpHgJhnUm266n7RlVTsiS4c5zVaEi9W93NFV5ur37h3DnhiewjgvjsnoXRO9EO6qILlylRthlmyvmjkAogNd06LOOxS_H0mqvUE01NSVnzgtF91P7V7DxiVYmVh-AOpvhL75ghfZ04/s1600/brilliant2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_tpHgJhnUm266n7RlVTsiS4c5zVaEi9W93NFV5ur37h3DnhiewjgvjsnoXRO9EO6qILlylRthlmyvmjkAogNd06LOOxS_H0mqvUE01NSVnzgtF91P7V7DxiVYmVh-AOpvhL75ghfZ04/s640/brilliant2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> On a more pleasant note, I went rappelling today. I didn't wet myself. I didn't die, either. I know you were worried for a second there. I also learned that I have the upper body strength of a potato. What's that, you say? That potatoes don't <b>have</b> upper bodies, let alone upper body strength? Well, neither do I, apparently. I'll have to work on that.Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5213118587300645507.post-63530058542710911142011-09-05T18:10:00.000-06:002011-09-05T18:10:55.256-06:00 <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was trying to think of something creative to write as my very first post. But nothing came to mind. So here's a picture of a kiwi bird instead. He's in psychological turmoil. He just doesn't know what to believe anymore. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjiF8LArEULP83cq5M1io1NiKHFhMtxiXfbtROYrZ62SMZByHJ9D6M199fKMynJ7X7xmaHiPv7RXANeOS_1sVeZlIJ5LgzKIqiZVYiQUxzBjZ7C8lIOYshw1V9g68mH-VqKXSl2V8oF0/s1600/Kiwi.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjiF8LArEULP83cq5M1io1NiKHFhMtxiXfbtROYrZ62SMZByHJ9D6M199fKMynJ7X7xmaHiPv7RXANeOS_1sVeZlIJ5LgzKIqiZVYiQUxzBjZ7C8lIOYshw1V9g68mH-VqKXSl2V8oF0/s640/Kiwi.bmp" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> I suppose I should say a little bit about myself. My name is Goulash. I go to a high school that I will refer to as Chateau d'If. When I grow up, I want to be a doctor. Or maybe one of those guys that serves popcorn at Disneyland. Whichever one pays more. </div>Unknownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08124747485467272818noreply@blogger.com0