Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Fun Will Never End

It's the last day of the 2011, kind of a shame. I wouldn't mind if 2011 hung out a little longer, but time ceaselessly marches on. It's important to make the most of the time we have.

And when running isn't an option because of a case of hurt-leg, there's nothing better to do than watch cartoons all day and massage said hurt-leg.
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Words to Live by in 2012

The best thing you can achieve is transcendence, and the best thing you can do is embrace the long, narrow grind it demands. 

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Team Puberty and Barbecue Turkey

That was my trivia team's name. Puberty.

It's a great underdog team name. Puberty is the eternal underdog. Or maybe everyone sees it differently. In my mind, puberty is the eternal underdog. And I think most movies would agree with me. Because those movies are written by nerdy writers.
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My sister and I were just discussing how at points in our lives we weren't sure if our mom was really who she said she was. Maybe she'd been replaced with an imposter. I'm pretty sure I had that suspicion about anyone I was close to when I was young, including my sister. I openly called her a, "communist robot" several times. I've also learned that that it is a "condition" or "mental illness". But that applies to adults. I don't think the same rules apply to little kids. They can be as crazy as they gotta be.
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Barbecue Turkey! I love you! You're all warm and soft and covered in sauce. How'd you look so good? I wish I could make a giant body cast out of Styrofoam or some sort of space-age plastic if you prefer, and I'd fill it with you, Barbecue Turkey. And I'd let you marinate for nine months in a bunker guarded by dwarves and cardboard cut-outs of Celine Dion! Then I'd dig you up and you'd be my best friend and wear an oversized t-shirt that says, "It's my happy birthday and everyone gets a slice of happy ice cream cake!" and there'd be a picture of smiling old man's face with white hair and false teeth. And at night I'd read you your favorite bedtime story, Barbecue Turkey: The Tale of a Few Hours Long. It's a few hours long but I never get to finish because I always get sleepy and fall asleep on your warm chest. And then the slow steady beat of your meaty-meat heart brings a gentle rhythm to my dreams.

Barbecue Turkey! I want to give you the kind of life I never got to have. I want you to never have to go over to your neighbor's house while their heating dinner, and you just stand in front of their door and watch them eat dinner and you're waiting for Sherry and Scott to come outside and play but their family takes forever to eat and they never acknowledge you but you're standing right there watching them so you're kinda hard to miss. Why won't you look at me!?

Barbecue Turkey, I'll never have to choose again, between dinner and friendship. Because you're both! Formed into a delicious loyal homunculus that will stop people from sassing me! I've had enough sass to last me until I have to eat Barbecue Turkey through a straw! And hopefully someday I will, Barbecue Turkey. I hope we can grow old together, and watch our grandchildren battle in a violent spectator sport invented the future, not unlike cage fighting.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Looptercopter

True Meaning of Winter Break Part 5

actually...no...not doing one today

I really just want to talk about how great the word powder is.

POWDER

Just say it. You get a perfect, dry, puff of air from the first syllable POW.

It's like punching an open bag of flour. POW.

But not in the Batman action bubble comic fighting way. Not like POW!

But like, it's a dry winter morning, and you walk outside in your bathrobe and your slippers, and you're standing in your front lawn. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground with blades of grass still peaking through, and tiny flakes are delicately falling all around you. You take a sip of coffee from your mug and let out a quiet, muffled pop of a sound: pow.

That kind of POW. That's what I'm talking about. Everything about that first syllable exemplifies the concept of powder.

Then you have the -der. I'm not really sure what the -der is doing there. I guess it solidifies the word. You let POW out and it's more of a gas, an intangible puff of air, and the -der comes in and turns it into a loose collection of particles that falls to the ground in a little pile at your feet.

But it's a gentle -der. It's not hard like a -ter or a -ker, and powper would just sound immature. Powder is perfect. It's just the tiniest flap of a consonant to make it real.

Powder is an honest word. It sounds like what it is. And that makes it a great word.

That's just on the sound level! It also makes other words better when it stands next to them.

Sugar.

Okay, sugar is pretty great.

But powdered sugar. Oh, that's heavenly. That's fancy breakfast food you're talking about now.

WHAT?! It just made breakfast BETTER?!

Powder, you some kinda super word. Get over here and give me a hug. You can stay at my house and have the futon all to yourself. All the other words can sleep on the old rug in the basement. You get futon privileges.

And that's why I love the word powder.

TRUE MEANING OF WINTER BREAK! (haha! I fooled you! It was really a true meaning of winter break all along!)