Farewell, Favrd.

Favrd and me go back a long way. I don’t mean Dean, of course, but the website itself. When it launched in the late spring of 2008, I would obsessively read through the leaderboards, and I would strive to one day appear on them myself. At the time, I believe I had about forty followers, and thought it was somewhat possible for this task to be accomplished. I mean, how hard would it be to get all of those forty people to like one of my jokes? It could be about school, or a fart joke, or something. It didn’t matter what it was, back then, as long as people starred it.

Read More

Currently.

I’m seeing myself in my NaNoWriMo characters. For example, I just spent the last hour making an outline where I define, in as much detail as I need, my major characters, and now, my major characters hates outlining things. Weird, huh?

1. My art teacher apparently knows about Tumblr, which is awesome and creepy at the same time.
2. I registered a Posterous account since Tumblr won’t let me just have a vacant username. It’s like being used to swimming in chocolate, and then swimming in crap; it’s similar, but terrible.
3. I’m writing this to avoid doing homework. Procrastination procrastination procrastination.

Facebook: “Are you depressed?”

Sick? Yes. Worried for my educational career? Yes. Loveless? Yes.

But depressed? AW HELL NAW!

My printer appears to be conspiring against me. This is why we can’t have nice things.*

*Because they hate me, of course.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining brightly, like an angel’s halo. The temperature was a rare treat; neither hot nor cold, perfectly in the middle. With her hand in mine, and a smile upon her face that could melt away the world, I felt that this one moment would stay with me forever, happily in my sub-conscious.

Then the dead cat flew off of an incoming car’s tire, and landed on her face.

My sister was just angry at my dog and screamed “Why you little…” and jokingly choked her, in resemblance to The Simpsons.

I’ve taught her so well.

Note: When a woman asks sarcastically if she looks pregnant, don’t reply “No, not really. Maybe a month into it.”

Lesson learned.

Apparently, my teachers and my principle may or may not be reading my blog. So, here’s a quick PSA, just to stay on their good sides:

DON’T DO DRUGS STAY IN SCHOOL DON’T SWEAR RESPECT YOUR ELDERS DON’T GET INTO FIGHTS DON’T BE SARCASTIC IN BLOG POSTS NO I’VE SAID TOO MUCH.