Unite and take over.

I fucking hate zucchini. Really, the other night some chick my mom knows from twitter brought us some baby zucchini from her garden. The while I was thinking, 'Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God! Please don't make me eat that nasty shit.
Well, the chick left and ted-ah! My mother cooks it up on the grill and sets it in front of me.
'Yeah, like I'm really gonna' eat that crap.' I said to her. She looked me dead in the eyes and replied, "You better, because if you don't I'm going to let the ninjas have you. Do you want that?"
I cocked my head to the side and considered my chances against the highly trained warriors from the temples of Japan. 'Of course I do!' I exclaimed, pulling the Soul Edge from my back. I stole to the corner of the room with a sweep of my cloak.
Shaking her head, my mother blew on a little silver whistle she kept close to her heart. The noise it made could not be herd by any untrained or damaged ear drums. Suddenly, I was surrounded by figures garbed completely in black.
My gaze swept over the room and I counted at least fifteen ninjas. I smirked, Is that it? I thought to myself. This was going to be a piece of cake.
One of the figures ran towards me with his katana held low, as to strike my legs out from under me. Staying perfectly still, I waited until he was upon me to side step. I held the Soul Edge out from my body. Before the ninja could stop himself, he ran into the edge of my sword, spilling his bowels all over our kitchen floor.
I'm certainly not cleaning that up, I thought. Another two ninjas came at me. One had Cat Claws between his fists and the other was throwing shurikens at me.
Dodging all the throwing stars I ran to meet the clawed ninja. He aimed a blow at my stomach, but I blocked it with the Soul Edge and grabbed the back of his neck to use him as a flesh shield against the surikens.
Sheathing the Soul Edge on my back I grabbed one of the throwing stars out of my ninja/shield's back and aimed it one of the ninjas who were encroaching on my personal space.
"Don't pop my bubble!" I yelled at them. I saw that the shuriken missed the ninja's face and instead hit his neck. The blood pored from his main artery distracting me from the fight, and another ninja threw a dagger at me. The knife hit my thigh and dug its sharp fang into me. Even though the pain was great I knew better than to show weakness.
I clasped the handle and pulled it out, without uttering even a sigh of distress. Immediately I threw it back at its owner. The blade took its rightful place inside the said owner's side, and he keeled over.
Dropping the Cat claw ninja's limp body, I once again drew the Soul Edge. Sweeping it through the crowd of agile figures, two of them dropped to the ground in a pool of collected blood.
One of the larger ninjas, loosing his composure at the death of his companions let out a horrible battle cry and swung his chain and ball at my head. I jumped onto our kitchen table and kicked his nose into his face causing him to shriek in pain and stumble off to deal with his injuries.
My mother, who had exited the room at the blow of her whistle, was leaning against the wall in the hall way leading to the laundry room, observing the fight through the dumbwaiter. At each blow I delivered she couldn't help giving a grin. She had taught me well. But if I won the fight, who was going to eat the zucchini she grilled?
It was down to me and the last ninja. I had discarded my sweater and pants which were so drenched in blood the they were a hindrance to my movement. Now all I had covering me were my pretty white tank and Adrian's boxer shorts. This was the same ninja that had relentlessly thrown surikens at me through most of the fight. Now he was out of the stars and I had grown tired of using the Soul Edge. We circled each other. I wasn't sure about what form to use, so I asked him.
"Should I use bear style, and just take your head off? Or, Chin Na so I can freeze you then take your head off?" I teased him by getting closer then farther away, circling him all the while. Finally he jumped at me grabbing for my throat. Sliding between his legs through the blood on the floor I grabbed his genitals and pulled him with me. Flipping him over so I could sit on top of him I pushed my fingers into a few of his vulnerable points, immobilizing him.
I smiled at him. Puting my mouth to his throat I kissed him and said goodbye.

I walked out of the room with my blood drenched clothes in one hand and the Soul Edge swung on top of my shoulder. Stopping for a short stint to tell my mother, "I'm not cleaning that up." And walking away I said "Oh, and you can keep the fucking zucchini."

Oh, aren't I funny?

To my hero garbed in white,

Even though I have no idea of what you're saying in most of your songs, I love you. Your voice and the way you present your ideals and the ideals of Oomph! are amazing. If the only thing I was permitted to do was lay on the ground and listen to your voice, I would be only too happy to do so.
Some of my love needs to be directed to your companions in the musical world. To Flux I say, 'I have never been attracted to someone I have never heard speak, until now.' And to Crap... God, I love your hair.

Catfish Princess

I have stumbled across a cycle that appears to keep happening to me. This is that, I'll meet someone and I'll talk to them, then when we've known each other for awhile I'll find out something about him and kind of adopt it. For example, when I first met a Mr. Donovan Marshall.
The first thing I noticed about Mr. Marshall were his unusual dressing habits, that drew me in, but when I actually started talking to him, I found out that he liked D&D. This RPG was something I had been interested in when I was in middle school. When I found out that he liked it, I went home and started reading through all my old manuals. That made it easier to converse with him, because I hadn't really been playing.
There are so many adopted habits and hobbies of mine that spawned from my previous relationships. I've realized that I'm made of mostly other people. When I really think about it I get depressed. Am I really not unique? Well, to tell the truth I don't think there's any such thing as unique anymore. If there's one thing I took with me from Mr. Hall's class its that nothing is original because the Greeks have already done it.
I've seen all kinds of personalities and messed up lives that I can be only semi-comfortable in my own skin. I can say, 'At least I'm not as cliche or fucked up as that person.', but even then I'm just using other people to make myself feel better.
Maybe I'm just an eclectic pool of other people's ideas and quirks, with nothing original about me but the DNA in my chromosomes.

This isn't how I pictured you.

I saw girls on the water last night dancing like angels. Their bodies looked like ribbons and satin had been their parents. When they spun it spun the world, their leaps put gazelles to shame, and the pirouettes they presented were flawless.
I could have watched them all night, but when I moved closer to speak to them they fled. I begged them not to leave me, but to no avail. I shouted myself hoarse for hours, shocked at my loss. Finally, I gave up any hope of ever seeing them again. Weeping, I returned to the car, unaware of the dryads watching me.
Many times I returned to that place on the water, and sat motionless for hours on end. I never really saw them again, but every once in a while I hear their tinkling laughter or see them twirling in the corner of my eye.
Before one of my visits I bought three pairs of the most beautiful silken ballet shoes and put them in an ornate stained red box. When I entered the forest where the lake was located a sudden hush and calm fell over me. As my feet drew me closer to the water I closed my eyes and let the dancers draw me to them. My body stopped moving and I opened my eyes and gazed across the water.
Nothing. No one was there. I felt hot tears fill my eyes as I longed for them, the heat of my disappointment filled me and made my body heavy as my eyes. I knelt down upon the soft grassy bank and fell asleep. Visions of the beautiful dancers filled my mind, and asked me not to be saddened by their absence.
Hours it seemed later, I woke. The box was gone as well as my sweater. I looked around in awe, seeing the branches draped with the green mesh that made up their garbs. They had left me on the bank surrounded by their beauty, yet away from them. I was to never chance upon them again, but something told me I was welcome here in their wood.

Es tut mir leid, ich dachte, Sie schlafen.

If I am beautiful, what are you?

You love me more than words can say so you don't speak.
I like it that way.
Don't talk to me.
I don't want to hear your love sick words.
Your judgment is far too clouded.

Do not ogle me with those eyes.
I can feel your stare on my skin, making my flesh crawl.

Don't talk to me.
Just observe me from a distance,
because if you get too close you'll see the strings.

Planning on giving me wings?

I've got God on my side.
My god, my side.
But as I look longingly at the end of the pier I sigh.
Were you planning on giving me wings?
I whisper into the sun,
Into my god.

I'm special,
Like something God made for God's own self.
I love you

A Fat, Portly Young Gentleman

Depending on my income over the next year or so, I will most likely be moving out of my dear mother and father's happy home and into an apartment complex of my choosing. When I do so I will be getting a room mate or an animal to share my life with. This blog post is just me weighing out the pros and cons of each of my options.

I would much prefer the company of a cat to the company of a human I think. My reasoning behind this particular view is that while humans are 'complex' creature with their 'deep emotion' and so called reasoning skills, cats are very basic creatures, with little to no need for interaction with different species or any species at all for that matter. That, and they don't talk back when you're complaining about all kinds of the most ludicrous things.
But why not a dog? Dogs don't talk back either. Well, yes but if I had to choose between a caring and affectionate slobbering idiot, and a cool, calm and collected companion I would be more inclined to choose the later.
And even if I did choose a dog; what could it give me that a cat could not? And if I didn't choose a cat or a dog what would my alternatives be?
A bunny rabbit? No, of course I wouldn't choose a rabbit. There are too many painful childhood memories involving rabbits.
A lizard? I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't choose that, because they are too simplistic.
Perhaps a snake? Although I already have a snake; My beloved Lucile. I'm sure that because of her age (13 years) she will most likely die before I move out. And to that I think getting an new snake would be grand. Maybe another ball python? Or a Milksnake... Yes, I think if I get another snake it would be a Milksnake named Riff Raff.

I can not tell the story of my suffering for I have none. I can give you pictures of words that my mind forms in pieces because it can not comprehend the fullness of them. 12:55pm is the place where I sit locked away wrapped in turmoil hoping for something to come save me.

Nothing.

Nothing is what is coming for me. And I have it coming. Like pools of teacup blood boiling away in the witch's eyes and I can't see it for what it truly is.

Nicolai

The music in the club was unrealistically loud, almost to the point of busting someone's ear drums. If the noise level wasn't enough, the visual would be enough destroy a person's retina. The lights flashed first red then blue, but the two colors were nearly indistinguishable from the purple blur they created. Clubs like these were where people went to get totally trashed; Except two women sitting in the far back corner. They were here for a far different reason, they were here to take care of business.
Autumn was sitting on the outside of the rounded booth the two had selected for its nondescript location. She was wearing a short red dress that covered her chest in the front, but that dropped low in the back to show her spinal tattoo's that looked like someone had etched the actual prints of the column onto her skin. Her companion, a small pixie like girl, was dressed not to impress but for an actual business transaction. Clad in an all black tight fitting black suit, and her usual large black sun glasses, her spinal tattoo covered.
Even though Autumn looked perpetually bored to the untrained eye, to anyone working for some select organizations it was clear she was looking for someone. Her deep earthy green eyes were moving from left to right in sweeping motions across the room.
"Looks like a no show, Faun. We shouldn't have wasted our time with scum like this." she said through gritted teeth. Faun merely stared forward, and after a few moments of intense silence she spoke, "Don't be so sure." and nodded towards the entrance.
Through the crowd of people a man was barely visible, entering the club. He glanced nervously around and ran his fingers through his wispy blond hair. Even though extremely good-looking he had the air of someone who would sell you out for thirty pieces of silver.
"Ah, should I go retrieve our slippery friend?" Autumn asked looking like a hungry cat staring at a plump canary. Faun raised an eyebrow but nodded all the same.
Autumn smiled and pushed herself up from off the seat. She look as elegant as she did frightening. A young, attractive looking biker approached her, cocky as can be, but as soon as he put his hand on her waist she turned and grabbed his wrists in one hand and genitals in the other, "Don't Ever touch me again or these hacky sacks in my hand will be gone. Understand?" With a squeak he nodded with his eyes shut tight. Autumn lowered her lips to his ear, "Good." and continued through the crowd, uninterrupted.
When she reached the man he looked up at her with a worried smile. "Fauna?" he asked unsure.
"No, I am her partner" Autumn said through a mask of displeasure. "Come with me." She grabbed his arm and continued back to the booth, where Faun was waiting patiently.
When they got to the booth, the Vampire, looking fully disgruntled asked in Italian, "Sei Fauna?"
"Oh, man! You didn't tell me he didn't speak english!" Autumn slumped down in the seat impatiently. "I sure hope you can speak the Pasta language, Fauna, you know I can only speak Swahili, Bengali, and French."
Throughout this rant Faun didn't bat an eyelash, not that you would be able to see it if she did. No, she was far too accustomed to Autumn's hasty nature. She nodded to the Man "Si, Nicolai. Ti è portare i file?"
Looking slightly relived he nodded and pulled a thin manila folder from inside his rucksack. Handing the folder to her, he made sure to touch her hand with his. Faun's eyes flashed behind her glassed and in a fluid motion she grabbed his wrist and dragged him across the table. With a dagger at his neck. "You may be of Nosferatu blood,"she whispered dangerously in his mother tongue,"but you have not completed the full transformation, you can died rather easily. You have the memory touch gift, I read your file. Whatever memories you just obtained will be returned to me. You can co-operate and it will be relatively painless, or you can struggle and we'll do it Autumn's way. I hope you know that involves a good deal of liquid sunlight and dips in boiling silver. After which we will kill you.
"You will kindly get up and exit this facility with us without making a scene. If you do this we will let you get on with your pitiful means of existing, after we are done with you." While this little chat was going on, Autumn had quietly pulled a gun out of Faun's computer bag and held it against Nicolai's back under his jacket.
Faun quickly conveyed the plan to her partner, explaining the situation in a calm manner. A grin spread across Autumn's face, "Finally some action. We've been rather dull for weeks."

You look like Richy Rich

Ah, the joys of having friends you Lovehate. You can bitch about them to your other friends and bitch about them to their face and love them all the same. Take my good pal, Emily Green for example. We hate each other. And for good reason too. I complain about anything and everything, and she brags about anything and everything.
The reason for my bringing this up is now that its summer time I want to hang out with people I normally want to kill. Its the strangest feeling, wanting to be with someone you hate... I've only ever experienced this one other time when giving Dylan Murry a hug was the only thing I felt like doing. Now after all the shit Miss Green and I have been through we can still sit down and have a civilized conversation. Most of the time...
Today I'm busy, but I was thinking about maybe this weekend we could chill at her house or something. She just got her wisdom teeth pulled so right now she's drugged up on pain killers, but this weekend she should be fine.
After school today, Erin is picking me up and taking me to go eat at Asiana with Vega. Now I don't particularly like Vega, but she's my mini so I have to take care of her. Then after eating we're going to swim in the Blackmountain pool.
God, how I loath swimming in front of people. Flaunting my pale, flabby body in front of the world is a bit less than enjoyable for most.

The Classic Pin-up Girl

Nothing but Lay's classic potato chips and Laura Lynn brand cola. The potato chips are to die for and the sodas not bad either. The salt on my tongue makes me drool with satisfaction and the soda makes the insides of my cheeks fizzle.
Its another boring day here in Summer school when all I have to do is Geometry. Why, oh why didn't I just turn in my homework!? Its bad enough that I barely speak for a full three hours, but still they sit and whisper about me and my sexual preferences.
Meh, I'll just deal with it for four and a half more weeks then 'Goodbye baby' I'm heading to the down and dirty part of my great state of North Carolina. My wonderful mother and step-father will be joining me of course and our stinky, skunky dog. The only part of going back to whence I came is that my grandparents keep trying to shove their religion down my throat. I am completely open to the idea of Christianity as well as any other religion, but I don't like being told that I'm going to Hell if I don't conform to their ideals.

Not on my eyes.

Now, keep in mind that when I type these I'm in New day.

White Boy: In here for Algebra II. Wears random skater tees. Acne. Ugly hair colour. Looks anywhere but the computer screen. Wears the same pants every other day. Brown or Hazel eyes, can't really see them that well. Gets antsy when you look at him.

N'kia: Dark skin. In here for intro to mathematics. Hasn't taken a math class in three years. Skinny, tall, HUGE tits. Can be nice but doesn't like me 'cause I'm a 'lez'.

Brittany: Dark skin. In here for Geometry. Has an ugly yellow bag that she stores everything in. Nice fashion sense. Bit of a bitch, and enjoys talking to Mr. Jeff about random ass shit.

Day three. Blogs are made for bitchin'.

Jen has become a nagging pain that is too loud for even the hard of hearing. She is constantly begging to come over to my house and 'hang out' which for her consists of eating all of our food and trashing my house. The last time she insisted we watch the shittiest most boring movie on the planet called 'Night Flier'.And she forced me to eat the most disgusting thing I've ever put in my mouth. It was a squishy squashy uncooked pork bun filled with uncooked meat. But shes not even the worst of my troubles, oh no. I have to deal with my ex girlfriend, Maddy nagging on me all the fucking time because she thinks I dumped her for Adrian. Hes not the reason! I just didn't feel attracted to her anymore. I LOST attraction. I felt dirty when I kissed her, because I felt like I was kissing my sister. Now I do love her but great Marzipan Jesus I can't fuck her. NO! never ever could I do that.

Firey Chasem

Sitting in this summer school class... There are so many things I would rather be doing right now, and not a one of them appropriate. The 'Novanet' is down and I'm stuck here for another 25 minuets. I've already been in here since 10:00 am, and starting July 5 they've decided to add another hour onto our sentence. So from 10 am to 2pm eastern time, I'm the Man's prisoner.
Adrian. I could be with that German kid who has the hots for me. Not that I return the favor, but its nice to know that someone some where finds me even remotely attractive. We canoodled at Malcolm's party and since then he randomly pops into my mushy gray thing called a brain. All we did was kiss but its still shocks me that he is 18 and I was the first person he ever kissed. I had my first kiss in grade school and that was no biggie... Hes a mystery. Even Bitch nugget gets some action, and I'm 86.7% certain that atleast 3/4 of the school hates his whiney ass.
Personally I'd like to be on Facebook right now but you know how these 'school' computers work. You have to proxy all this shit now a days, and I really don't feel like doing that. I feel like going home and playing DDR and eating everything my disgusting frige has to offer me. Wait, no, I'd rather be at Tres' house doing that and swimming, but noooooooo he has to go to Marshill college to do upward bound. God, I hate summer programs that take your friends away. Not that Tres is my only friend or anything. Its just that I'm sick and tired of all my other friends.

Jacopo Bassano

Why must every thing we write have a title? I just don't understand it. Suppose I want to just type a bunch of gibberish and post it; would that need a title as well? I sure as hell hope not.
I personally am going to just make up some random titles and just by reading them no one will know what the hell my piece is going to be about. Its not that I want to confuse people. Its just... that, um... Well I don't know why the I'm doing it besides the fact that I effing want to.

And thats why I can't have plasitc bags

A youth subculture is a youth-based subculture with distinct styles, behaviors, and interests. According to subculture theorists such as Dick Hebdige, members of a subculture often signal their membership by making distinctive and symbolic tangible choices in, for example, clothing styles, hairstyles and footwear. However, intangible elements, such as common interests, dialects and slang , music genres and gathering places can also be an important factor. Youth subcultures offer participants an identity outside of that ascribed by social institutions such as family, work, home and school

Social class, gender and ethnicity can be important in relation to youth subcultures. Youth subcultures can be defined as meaning systems, modes of expression or lifestyles developed by groups in subordinate structural positions in response to dominant systems — and which reflect their attempt to solve structural contradictions rising from the wider societal context. The study of subcultures often consists of the study of the symbolism attached to clothing, music, other visible affections by members of the subculture and also the ways in which these same symbols are interpreted by members of the dominant culture.

The term scene can refer to an exclusive subculture or faction. Scenes are distinguished from the broad culture through either fashion; identification with specific (sometimes obscure or experimental) musical genres or political perspectives; and a strong in-group or tribal mentality. The term can also be used to depict specific subsets of a subculture, habitually geographical, such as the Detroit drum and bass scene or the London Goth scene. A quantity of scenes tend to be volatile, imprudent to trends and changes, with some participants acting elitist towards those considered to be less fashionable, or oppositional to the general culture although others do endow with mutual support in marginalized groups. In-group behavior can sometimes elicit external opposition. Subcultures that show a systematic hostility to the dominant culture are sometimes described as countercultures