So, if you didn't know, I'm a senior in Highschool, planning to graduate. This means within a year, I, and many of my closest friends, are going to be heading to one college or another every morning, Monday through Friday. I'm not sure I'm happy about this. I know most people aren't happy about change, but I like to think I'm one of the few people who embrace change, just for the challenges it brings. So, while I'm happy that I will likely be away from home, and attending classes that I will enjoy, I'm a bit... not frightened, men aren't allowed to be frightened. Let's say worried.
Now, Ids hazard a guess that at this point most of you are thinking I'm worried that I'll be away from home. F*ck that shit, I want to get away from here. What bothers me about moving out of here is that I will be away from my friends, my teachers, all the people who keep me sane.
I'm not sure where I'll go to college. I'm looking real closely at Brazosport College and Lon Morris, both of which are two-year. I was impressed by the Honors program presentation at U of H the other night. Also, it has been suggested that I attend college in California, which might be pretty cool too. After all, that's where Bigfoot is. I'd like to get that sucker skinned and stuffed. Plus I think I'd be much happier there than here, location-wise, and there's at least one person there who could keep me sane. I think the best plan I have for now is to go to BC or Lon Morris for a year, then transfer to either UofH or somewhere in California. Two of the people who are instrumental in my maintenance of logic, reason, and control will be going to BC, so that looks most likely right now.
But I think I'd be a bit... lost... without some of the people around here. Jake is moving to Georgia, or at least he wants to. I don't think I could take Georgia for very long. I've never been good at suffering fools, and hillbillies are near the top of that particular list. I've not heard plans from anyone else, but I know someone who's already going to school in another country. I expect that I'll be near enough to someone that we could talk, but I'm not sure it'll be someone I'll want to talk to.
I suppose I could keep in touch with blogs, email, and Instant Messaging, but you know as well as I that it's not the same. I guess it would be worse for people talking to me, since I refuse to use chatspeak and emoticons. I have little enough emotional involvement as is, and I don't need to confuse people with such foolishness as emoticons. I don't use chatspeak because it's just another perversion of the english language, and screws up what the rappers haven't destroyed already.
Anyway.... I'm sure I'll do good in college, much better than highschool. At one point someone thought I was "talented," so I got to take the ACT in junior high. Apparently my test scores were rather impressive. I took the SAT not too long ago, and did rather good, excepting math, of course. I just took the ACT again last weekend, and though the math was a small slice of hell, I think I did better this time. I'm hoping my test scores will be enough to get me some kind of scholarship, 'cause my grades sure as hell won't.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Hey, folks, guess who got dropped off at home in a squad car last night?
That's right, they finally got yours truly into one of those rust buckets. I was hanging out with some kids from the school, and before I hooked up with them, a mailbox had been broken. The kid who did it, we'll call him "A," had been skating along, and jumped off his board to run alongside it. He hit the curb funny and slammed into the mailbox, taking it off about halfway up. Rather than simply going up to the house and telling what happened, they took off running. I joined up with them shortly after. A kid who lived in the house saw what happened. He and his brother started following us around in a truck, keeping to the streets where they could see us, while we went off the roads into the ditches.
No, that's not stalking at all.
Anyway, we went into this large, empty park, and the truck drove by. A few seconds later, the cops showed up. By the time I knew what was going on, and turned around, the guy was already getting out. He tells us to get against the car, then says, "I just want you boys to know that if you run from me you'll be in some big fucking trouble." Right there I knew that I, personally, was in little to no trouble. If the cop was that relaxed, and wasn't screaming, I was good since I didn't do anything. I know now that we most likely could have run, and gotten away, since we know the area better than any cop, and know a couple dozen good places to hide, but at the same time I'm glad we didn't. I was a bit impressed that they'd actually caught us, and I guess I didn't want to tarnish their moment.
So, he takes us to the house, and the little kid, a friend of my brother's, narcs like a little bitch, and apparently added to his story a bit. He said that he had watched for about 5 minutes as "A" had outright attacked the mailbox, punching it, kicking it, smacking it with his skateboard... none of which happened. Now, let me tell you about the two families involved in this incident. "A's" family is not well-off. I mean, unless you're reading this at a school or library, you're paying for an Internet connection, and you bought a PC. That's not cheap, folks. They probably couldn't do that, and this is in an era when everyone and their dog and their dog's fleas have computers. The other family? Two bigass trucks in the driveway, that probably guzzle gas faster than a stoner can empty a twinkie warehouse. Both trucks are driven fairly often. I've not seen into the garage, which means there might be another two cars in there. The house is good-sized, and on the creek, which may be a shitty creek, but it still drives up the property value a bit. The people who live their, or at least their sons, aren't the most law-abding people in this town. I mean, they're not criminals, but their kids drive their dirtbikes in the street (illegal), blow up mailboxes (also illegal), and fire off shotguns in the backyard (what do you think?). Normally, none of this would bother me overmuch, except for a few things. First, the family who's mailbox was replaced by the time it got dark wants to sue the other family.
FOR WHAT, MOTHERFUCKERS?!?!
Second, the family who's mailbox was hit wants the charge upped from criminal mischief, which really isn't that bad, to criminal misdemeanor. And for what? Satisfaction?
IT'S A FUCKING MAILBOX, ASSHOLES!!!!!
Third: I have been told that the kid who saw it gave a statement to the effect that "A" worked the mailbox over. It's not that hard to break a mailbox off, alright? You don't need to hit it, kick it, hit it with a skateboard, and the finally throw yourself at it. All you need is a bat. Now, his lying doesn't bother me much, he's a fucking narc and I have neither respect nor concern for little bitches like him. But the thing that bothers me is that the cops have decided to take away the court case. Apparently "A" has had some trouble before, and is on probation or something. What this means is that the people who were there and are not little attention whores don't get to tell their side of the story, and "A" will be going straight to boot camp... which his family will have to pay for.
That's right, they finally got yours truly into one of those rust buckets. I was hanging out with some kids from the school, and before I hooked up with them, a mailbox had been broken. The kid who did it, we'll call him "A," had been skating along, and jumped off his board to run alongside it. He hit the curb funny and slammed into the mailbox, taking it off about halfway up. Rather than simply going up to the house and telling what happened, they took off running. I joined up with them shortly after. A kid who lived in the house saw what happened. He and his brother started following us around in a truck, keeping to the streets where they could see us, while we went off the roads into the ditches.
No, that's not stalking at all.
Anyway, we went into this large, empty park, and the truck drove by. A few seconds later, the cops showed up. By the time I knew what was going on, and turned around, the guy was already getting out. He tells us to get against the car, then says, "I just want you boys to know that if you run from me you'll be in some big fucking trouble." Right there I knew that I, personally, was in little to no trouble. If the cop was that relaxed, and wasn't screaming, I was good since I didn't do anything. I know now that we most likely could have run, and gotten away, since we know the area better than any cop, and know a couple dozen good places to hide, but at the same time I'm glad we didn't. I was a bit impressed that they'd actually caught us, and I guess I didn't want to tarnish their moment.
So, he takes us to the house, and the little kid, a friend of my brother's, narcs like a little bitch, and apparently added to his story a bit. He said that he had watched for about 5 minutes as "A" had outright attacked the mailbox, punching it, kicking it, smacking it with his skateboard... none of which happened. Now, let me tell you about the two families involved in this incident. "A's" family is not well-off. I mean, unless you're reading this at a school or library, you're paying for an Internet connection, and you bought a PC. That's not cheap, folks. They probably couldn't do that, and this is in an era when everyone and their dog and their dog's fleas have computers. The other family? Two bigass trucks in the driveway, that probably guzzle gas faster than a stoner can empty a twinkie warehouse. Both trucks are driven fairly often. I've not seen into the garage, which means there might be another two cars in there. The house is good-sized, and on the creek, which may be a shitty creek, but it still drives up the property value a bit. The people who live their, or at least their sons, aren't the most law-abding people in this town. I mean, they're not criminals, but their kids drive their dirtbikes in the street (illegal), blow up mailboxes (also illegal), and fire off shotguns in the backyard (what do you think?). Normally, none of this would bother me overmuch, except for a few things. First, the family who's mailbox was replaced by the time it got dark wants to sue the other family.
FOR WHAT, MOTHERFUCKERS?!?!
Second, the family who's mailbox was hit wants the charge upped from criminal mischief, which really isn't that bad, to criminal misdemeanor. And for what? Satisfaction?
IT'S A FUCKING MAILBOX, ASSHOLES!!!!!
Third: I have been told that the kid who saw it gave a statement to the effect that "A" worked the mailbox over. It's not that hard to break a mailbox off, alright? You don't need to hit it, kick it, hit it with a skateboard, and the finally throw yourself at it. All you need is a bat. Now, his lying doesn't bother me much, he's a fucking narc and I have neither respect nor concern for little bitches like him. But the thing that bothers me is that the cops have decided to take away the court case. Apparently "A" has had some trouble before, and is on probation or something. What this means is that the people who were there and are not little attention whores don't get to tell their side of the story, and "A" will be going straight to boot camp... which his family will have to pay for.
* * *
This.... this is why I hate this society. In a culture where one family sues another family, and does their best to destroy a kid's life, all over a fuckin' accident, what's left to respect? What is there for the level-headed people among us to enjoy? I mean, it's fine with me if you enjoy fucking someone else over, but there is a point where you have to fucking stop. Okay? If you're suing a poor family, you don't ever, ever get to talk about morality again. You don't get to share your opinion on gay marriage or religion or arbortion or gun control or drugs or any fucking thing. It pisses me off so much that people can just get away with this kind of thing, and that's why things have to fucking change, right the fuck NOW. Here are our options. You and I, the next generation to be in control, can sit on our asses and wait for our turn, wait for our time to fix everything we've let our parents and grandparents fuck up, or we can do something about it, now, when we still can, and before we're too busy trying to save the last peices of social security and civil rights and our own lives. I've made my decision, and that's why you're reading this. This, right now, is the only way I can try to make things change. The only way I can challenge the status quo and try to fix things. I'll be doing more and more as time moves on, of course, but right now, you all have to make a choice, as to wether you're going to just plod along, or wether you're actually doing something. Wether you're going to let things stay as they are for now, and get worse further on; or if you will do something, ANYTHING, while there's still time.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Renaissance Fair (Faire? Fayr? Fayre? WHO CARES!?!)
I'm going to the Renaissance Fair with my AP Euro class on Thursday. The bus leaves at 6.30 for some little town I've never even heard of; apparently the only thing they have going for them is the fair itself. I was a bit reluctant to go, at first. I figured, there's only three peices to go where you could possibly meet someone even geekier than myself: An anime or videogame convention, which is something I would like to attend; a Dungeons and Dragons mass tournament, which I would never go to, even to save what little soul I have left; and a Renaissance festival. I guess my list is down to two, now.
Anyway, I figured, I already paid my cash for a ticket, so I might as well spend a bit more cash. I bought a costume in a one-shot Halloween store they put up in the mall, where the gap store used to be. I like the costume, it's exactly my kind of thing.
It's a friar's robe.
Isn't that wonderful? You all know me, and know how I'm ultra-critical of religion. I'm the last person you'd ever expect to see dressed as a holy man, right? That's why the costume is so perfect! I'm working on making a large wooden cross to hang from my neck, and I might carve some bible verses into a peice of wood I can whack myself in the face with (three people got that refrence. The rest of you are scratching your heads.). I would have gotten the preist costume at Hot Topic, but it looked more like George Carlin as Cardinal Glick in Dogma than my conception of a renaissance Catholic clergyman. By the way, it looks like Hot Topic is out of the Naruto headbands. If I find out any of you have one, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you and take it off your cold, dead body.
Anyway, I figured, I already paid my cash for a ticket, so I might as well spend a bit more cash. I bought a costume in a one-shot Halloween store they put up in the mall, where the gap store used to be. I like the costume, it's exactly my kind of thing.
It's a friar's robe.
Isn't that wonderful? You all know me, and know how I'm ultra-critical of religion. I'm the last person you'd ever expect to see dressed as a holy man, right? That's why the costume is so perfect! I'm working on making a large wooden cross to hang from my neck, and I might carve some bible verses into a peice of wood I can whack myself in the face with (three people got that refrence. The rest of you are scratching your heads.). I would have gotten the preist costume at Hot Topic, but it looked more like George Carlin as Cardinal Glick in Dogma than my conception of a renaissance Catholic clergyman. By the way, it looks like Hot Topic is out of the Naruto headbands. If I find out any of you have one, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you and take it off your cold, dead body.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Some Actually Random Static
This is one of the few posts you'll ever see from me that does not deal with a specific topic. I've got some random things today that I'd like to write about.
Ju57 '(4u53 1'm 80r3d, 7h15 15 wh47 "just 'cause I'm bored" |00k5 |1k3 wh3n 1 u53 7h3 |177|3 F1r3f0x 3x73n510n 1 p1(k3d up 70 7r4n5|473 17 1n70 |3375p34k. ()0p5, |00k5 |1k3 17 d1dn'7 qu173 w0rk. [Mischevious grin]
Today my dad and I went to the Southern Maid donut shop in a nearby strip mall, by Food King. We went in and bought 2 buttermilk donuts, one cinammon twist, a cinnamon roll, and a thing of milk. By the time the nice Asian lady had typed out the individual prices, I'd worked out the price plus tax in my head. I know I claim to suck at math, and I do, but I forced myself to be quick at adding up cash and taxes and such. Anyway, the total came to $4.22 in my head, and $4.64 on the register screen, but my dad started studying the menu, obviously thinking we were being cheated somehow. I kicked him in the shin and he gave up and paid. When I told him in the car that he'd just made both of us look paranoid, he started spewing shit about how the store people cheat white guys and then "hide behind the language barrier." Not only is that mean, it's also a bit racist. But I don't mind the racist bit, as much as I do the fact that this guy, who makes several thousand a year, lives in a good-size house, and has three working cars, is going to worry about being cheated out of a few cents! What in the hell is so important about 42 cents? It's not that he just doesn't want to be cheated on principle, he and mom have been cheating me and outright stealing my money for most of my life. And if the old lady was willing to take the risk of cheating a guy twice her size and his son, who's about half again as big as her, out of so little cash, seems to indicate that she needs that 42 cents. The donuts aren't too good, Shipley's are much better, but this place is just closer to us. I guess my point is that unless that little bit of cash they might be losing is all they need to keep them out of debtor's prison, just let it fucking go, okay? It's not even a dollar, it won't even buy you a soda. Let it go.
Those of you who use blogger may have noticed the ad about making money with your blog by using AdSense. I looked at it, and it looks like they don't need a credit card, and might just mail me the cash. So the question is this: You people, reading my blog, know how much I bitch about money, and the fact that I don't have any. Would you readers ( I sound like I'm writing some kind of newspaper column) mind seeing ads here? I'd feel kind of bad letting the man put stuff on my blog, but I'm getting to the point where I need some way to make money in the interim while I look for a job. So I guess it's up to you. If it's a good idea, tell me; if it's a bad idea, tell me.
Ju57 '(4u53 1'm 80r3d, 7h15 15 wh47 "just 'cause I'm bored" |00k5 |1k3 wh3n 1 u53 7h3 |177|3 F1r3f0x 3x73n510n 1 p1(k3d up 70 7r4n5|473 17 1n70 |3375p34k. ()0p5, |00k5 |1k3 17 d1dn'7 qu173 w0rk. [Mischevious grin]
Today my dad and I went to the Southern Maid donut shop in a nearby strip mall, by Food King. We went in and bought 2 buttermilk donuts, one cinammon twist, a cinnamon roll, and a thing of milk. By the time the nice Asian lady had typed out the individual prices, I'd worked out the price plus tax in my head. I know I claim to suck at math, and I do, but I forced myself to be quick at adding up cash and taxes and such. Anyway, the total came to $4.22 in my head, and $4.64 on the register screen, but my dad started studying the menu, obviously thinking we were being cheated somehow. I kicked him in the shin and he gave up and paid. When I told him in the car that he'd just made both of us look paranoid, he started spewing shit about how the store people cheat white guys and then "hide behind the language barrier." Not only is that mean, it's also a bit racist. But I don't mind the racist bit, as much as I do the fact that this guy, who makes several thousand a year, lives in a good-size house, and has three working cars, is going to worry about being cheated out of a few cents! What in the hell is so important about 42 cents? It's not that he just doesn't want to be cheated on principle, he and mom have been cheating me and outright stealing my money for most of my life. And if the old lady was willing to take the risk of cheating a guy twice her size and his son, who's about half again as big as her, out of so little cash, seems to indicate that she needs that 42 cents. The donuts aren't too good, Shipley's are much better, but this place is just closer to us. I guess my point is that unless that little bit of cash they might be losing is all they need to keep them out of debtor's prison, just let it fucking go, okay? It's not even a dollar, it won't even buy you a soda. Let it go.
Those of you who use blogger may have noticed the ad about making money with your blog by using AdSense. I looked at it, and it looks like they don't need a credit card, and might just mail me the cash. So the question is this: You people, reading my blog, know how much I bitch about money, and the fact that I don't have any. Would you readers ( I sound like I'm writing some kind of newspaper column) mind seeing ads here? I'd feel kind of bad letting the man put stuff on my blog, but I'm getting to the point where I need some way to make money in the interim while I look for a job. So I guess it's up to you. If it's a good idea, tell me; if it's a bad idea, tell me.
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