Spam Spam Spam 4!

Unfortunately, after this post, I have decided to shut down the public comments that are coming my way.  I am, quite frankly, sick and tired of them.  I’ve been noticing that the humor of the Spam Spam Spam posts are going down.  So, I’m ending it.

In this post though, I’ll do what I can to make the last batch amusing.

“Music began playing as soon as I opened up this site, so irritating!” – Spammer

I have no music attached to my site.  If there is music playing, its not from me.

“i like the role of Anthony Hopkins in the movie Silence of The Lambs. this guy is simply amazing..” – Spammer

Uh . . . Nice to know?  I honestly don’t care?

“How To Stop Snoring… [...]whenever that niche can be exciting to you, you can love this particular internet site[...]…” – Spammer

I don’t know what to make of that, actually.  I don’t need to worry about snoring . . .

“Hi there, just became alert to your blog through Google, and found that it is truly informative. I’m gonna watch out for brussels. I’ll be grateful if you continue this in future. A lot of people will be benefited from your writing. Cheers!” – Spammer

Why does everybody think they need to watch out for Brussels?  This is something like the tenth post that I’ve gotten commenting on Brussels!  Could somebody please explain to me why people should be watching out for this?

“I must express my gratitude for your kindness supporting men who must have help on your concern. Your special commitment to passing the solution across ended up being wonderfully advantageous and have continually helped many people much like me to get to their aims. Your personal helpful help implies a great deal a person like me and much more to my office workers. Best wishes; from all of us.” – Spammer

So you mean to say that I can’t help women as well as men?  Only men are on the internet?  You don’t think that the word People would work better than men?  Hmmmmmmm?  

“I’d also like to state that most of those that find themselves without the need of health insurance are normally students, self-employed and those that are jobless. More than half from the uninsured are under the age of Thirty five. They do not sense they are in need of health insurance since they are young along with healthy. Their income is normally spent on real estate, food, and also entertainment. Some people that do represent the working class either whole or not professional are not given insurance by means of their jobs so they go without because of the rising valuation on health insurance in america. Thanks for the tips you discuss through your blog.” – Spammer

I’m not saying that this isn’t a problem, but why would you comment on this for a Storytelling/informational blog?  Is there something in my writing that suggests that readers are interested in this?  

“Throughout the great scheme of things you get a B+ with regard to effort. Where you actually lost us was on all the details. As it is said, details make or break the argument.. And that could not be much more true in this article. Having said that, let me inform you what exactly did do the job. Your text can be very engaging and this is probably why I am making an effort to opine. I do not make it a regular habit of doing that. Second, even though I can notice the jumps in logic you come up with, I am not certain of exactly how you appear to unite your details which in turn help to make the final result. For the moment I shall subscribe to your issue however hope in the future you actually connect your facts much better.” – Spammer

I have details?  Really?  I didn’t think so . . . The only details that I really have in regards to Telecom stuff from when this was started.  

“Hey, I am ranking awesome for “free justin bieber stuff”.” – Spammer

For the mere suggestion of this, I am shutting down my Spam Spam Spam posts.  If I could, I’d find the person that posted this and light a fire under them.

“The things i have always told folks is that while looking for a good internet electronics store, there are a few issues that you have to take into consideration. First and foremost, you should really make sure to find a reputable along with reliable shop that has enjoyed great reviews and ratings from other shoppers and marketplace advisors. This will ensure you are dealing with a well-known store that gives good support and aid to their patrons. Many thanks for sharing your notions on this blog.” – Spammer

I’m not an internet electronics store, nor do I have any plans to even go into business for myself or anybody else.  I don’t even know why this person seemed to think that I had anything to do with shops.

“If Candlemas day be sunny and bright winter will have another flight if Candlemas day be cloudy with rain winter is gone and won’t come again.” – Spammer

. . . I . . . I don’t even know how to respond to this.  I don’t even know what Candlemas is.

“The king goes as far as he may not as far as he could.” – Spammer

I really don’t know how to answer this one either.  It’s just . . . odd.

So here marks the end of all the Spam Spam Spam posts.  I realize that it’s been almost two months since I last posted, but things have been a touch crazy on my end. I apologize.  I apologize if the spam posts were highly amusing, but their amusement has gone down, like I said at the start.

For you Spammers – Fare Thee Well, and please stop bothering me.

 

The Adventures of Fuzzy Blob Boy Episodes 1 and 2

Being bored in class always seems to have an effect on people to encourage them to make the best stuff ever, or at least be more creative.  For example, the new comic I created, it started with Cousin It from the Addam’s Family and doodling him all over one of my friend’s notebooks (she approved by the way) and evolved from there.  Anyways, here are the first couple of episodes!

Ep. 1 Kaboom!

Ep 2 I Found Waldo

 

Waiting for the Bus

I decided that today doesn’t need to be a story about some other person from my head or to talk about telecommunications and making life much more boring for you.  So instead, I’m going to make your life almost unbearably terrible, by me telling you all about all about the people I saw when waiting for the bus.

First off, sitting on a hard limestone wall, shivering with cold, doesn’t get the creative juices rolling.  Especially when you’re kicking your feet on the wall in an attempt to keep your feet from freezing.  Honestly, I started humming random tunes and kicking my feet in time to them, but mostly the Can-Can.

However, I was sitting by a major road and a stoplight, so it was kinda easy for me to see people’s expressions when they got stuck at the light.  Mind you, I’m not a creeper, I just got rather bored waiting for the bus without an iPod, a book, and a dead laptop.

Most people who got stuck at the light looked even more bored than I did, they looked something like this: 

I know, exciting.  At least I had mental music to keep my self entertained and from looking something like that.

It looked like somebody had just been mildly inconvenienced and they had nothing better to do but sit there and look bored.  I realize that I do the same thing when I drive, sometime.  Usually, I’m surfing the radio stations, trying to find something interesting to blare and then promptly sing along to as I sit a light, and then drive away.  These people didn’t even look like they’d ever heard of music and how much more interesting it can make a drive.

Then, there were the people who had others in the car with them, and they either looked as bored as the people above and not really talking to who ever was in their car, laughing, or mildly annoyed with them:

Yeah, something like that.  Almost like they really hated the people that they were sitting in a car with and couldn’t wait to get out of the car and run like heck to get away from them.  I always wondered what was going through their head when I saw that face.  For some reason, whenever I saw a couple together, my mind wanted to jump to breakup conversation, even though I knew that probably wasn’t it.

Why would you break up in a car?

And then there was a final group of people, those people who were driving a really nice car and would stop and stare at me while I sat, waiting for the bus.  It almost seemed like either they were thinking about offering me a ride before the light changed (which I would’ve declined, of course), or they were just fascinated by this person, sitting on a rock wall, trying to keep their feet from freezing by tapping it into a wall, wondering why they were waiting for a bus.  They usually looked something like this: 

They looked like a deer in the headlights.  They gave me the greatest kick, silently of course (I couldn’t sit there and laugh to myself without headphones in, people tend to look crazy when they do that (did you ever wonder why those cell phone headsets became so popular?  Yeah, that’s why, so crazy people don’t look crazy)).

Anyways, that was all the fun I had today.  Hopefully, with a new year, I can post more often.  And more interesting stuff than just me sitting at the bus stop, observing people as they drive by.

I hope your holidays were delightful and a nice break from a long year.  And I hope you’re ready to plunge into a new year filled with laughter, delight, and unexpected sorrows that shall meld together into a great year.

 

WHOO! FINALS WEEK!

So it’s finals week in many schools around the country. Including at my school, and I know that most students are almost completely dead from studying their buttocks off and stress.  Myself included, but I can’t, for the life of my grades, bring myself to look at another textbook or school related object for the next three weeks.

I compromised with myself though, since I do need to study.  Part of that compromise includes me writing something here.

And that something, because I can’t get my head out of finals mode, is a story about the arduous torture that goes into this terrible, terrible week.  Mind you, this is mostly fiction (kinda can’t hide the emotional effect that goes here).

Stacy rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock, it was only one in the morning.  Sighing, she rolled her shoulders and bent back over her books.  It was Monday morning and she had a final in less than twenty-four hours, two finals in less than forty-eight hours, and four finals in less than seventy-two hours.

It had been a long semester, but the end was in sight.  Part of what had made her semester so long was the fact that she had no fall break.  Her semester had run, without a respite, from August to November and everybody was showing the wear and tear.  In most of her classes, she had failed at least one quiz, missed one or two homework assignments, and felt like she was failing.

She had to ace her finals.

Exhaustion finally beat her need to study.  After only a half an hour more, Stacy gave up and crawled into bed, loose bits information running through her brain like flopping, caught fish.

The next morning, Stacy woke up at eight.  She didn’t want to hear her alarm clock going off, she didn’t want to roll out of bed, she didn’t even want to be at school any more.  Not for the first time this semester, Stacy wondered why she had put herself through the wringer, eighteen credit hours was killing her, but she had to have it to graduate in time.

Stacy staggered into the shower and let the hot water pour over her tense, worn-down body, allowing the heat to relax them just a hair.  Facts still ran through her head like rabbits, the various subjects scrambled together in a knot of weary befuddlement.  

The antiquarians – uhhhhhh – oh shit, I don’t remember what the antiquarians did.  I know that they have to do with Folklore.  Um, they created the ghosts.  Wait, no, that’s not right!  The antiquarians drove the ghosts underground!  That’s closer.  I’ll suck it up and take it for now, I know it’s not right, but I have to move on, Stacy thought, her mind struggling to process everything that was going on around her.  She shut off the water and moved on to getting dressed.

Men In Black.  They . . . Always show up when somebody’s getting too close to Aliens, Area 51, stuff like that.  Stupid movies about them, and probably incorrect, but that’s Hollywood for you.  Um, Media and Society, I shouldn’t worry about that, the final isn’t for another four hours.  Wait – four hours? What am I doing here? Stacy began to mentally panic, realizing that she had been thinking about and studying the wrong subject for three hours the previous night.

Cursing herself, Stacy threw her laptop and notes into her backpack, realizing that she needed to get to campus where studying would hopefully be slightly easier.  She walked into the living room that she shared with her roommates, Sofia and Katrina, both of whom were sitting on the couch watching tv.

“Hey Stacy,” they mumbled, then turned their attention back to the morning news.

“Don’t you have finals to study for?” Stacy asked.

“I finished mine last week,” Sofia replied, pulling a blue blanket over her knees.  ”Five papers, hellish and done.”

“I don’t have one until Friday, so I’m not killing myself yet.” Katrina shrugged, fixing her long brown hair back into a ponytail.

“So you know, I hate you both,” Stacy said, looking for a quick meal in their small kitchen. “What do we have for breakfast?”

“There’s leftover cake from last night, if you want that.  I’m going back to bed,” Sofia replied, standing up from her seat and letting the blanket fall to the ground, where she picked it up and carried it to her room.

Stacy rolled her eyes and dug into the fridge, finding the simple chocolate cake, which she grabbed a slice of, wrapping it in a paper towel as she walked out the door and to the bus stop.  Thinking ahead, she pulled out her student ID and iPod.  Stacy put in her ear buds and hit play, wondering what would come up on her playlist.

“A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view! No one to tell us no, Or where to go, Or say we’re only dreaming!”

Stacy smiled and fell into the Disney soundtracks, taken back into a simpler time as she stepped on to the cramped bus.  She showed her student ID and added herself to the cluster of student sardines, mouthing along to the words of the songs.

Stacy’s mind relaxed, enjoying the lack of thought flowing through it.  But too soon, Stacy arrived at the library, where she settled down and began rereading and struggling to remember facts from months ago.

A headache started to form between her temples, a deep, probing headache that distracted her from her notes.  Annoyed, Stacy reached for her backpack and found the Ibuprofen.  She swallowed two tablets, dry, and shook the disgusting taste from her mouth.  It didn’t take long for the medicine to take effect.

Lunchtime came, and went, she didn’t eat, buried in her books and notes, struggling to ensure that she knew everything that she could in her notes.

The time came for her final.  Stacy had left the library forty-five minutes before her final and walked to the room, making a slight detour on the way.

Stacy stopped by a statue of a man standing, his bronze hand outstretched in a friendly greeting, its color a bright, worn gold from the grips of several students.  He had been one of the best presidents that the university had ever had, and the statue was in his honor.  Legend had it that if a student shook his hand before a test, they would get an A, or, not fail.  Stacy, wanting every edge that she could, gripped his hand and said a prayer before continuing on her way.

She got to the room and settled in her chair.  She closed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair, trying to calm her frustrated and completely drained brain.

A scantron was shoved into her hand.  Stacy pulled out a pencil and began to fill out her information, resisting the urge to fill in bubbles to make a smiley face, even though it would make her feel better. The bane of everybody’s existence was passed out.

Stacy stared at the final, it didn’t seem so terrifying, sitting on the desk in front of her.  Carefully, she signed her name at the top, and started on the first question.  She worked steadily, skipping questions she wasn’t sure about.  The bubbles began to fill up.  The test was almost over.

She reached the end.  Sighing, Stacy flipped back to the start of the test. She began to look through it, double checking answers and filling out the ones she missed.  

Finally, she was done.  She passed over her test to a teacher’s assistant and walked out of the room, wondering if she had done well.  Praying that she had done well.  Pushing everything about that test to the back of her mind, she went home and began the process all over again.

 

So yeah, that’s essentially part of what finals week is like.  Mind you, I can’t speak for everybody in college, I can only speak for myself and for other people who I know well enough.  This stuff, all came from my mind, so please don’t steal it, I’ll get pissed.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading of an unnatural college torture!

 

A Cloudy Day for a Bright Flag

Okay, so it’s not independence day or anything like that, but it has been rather dreary in my part of the world and I saw a flag in the wind and the colors of it picked me up really quickly.  Some stuff started floating through my head, and this is what I started to think about.

Please, keep in mind that what I’m posting here is a first draft and I would really appreciate it if nothing was taken without my permission.  Pretty please with a cherry on top. (I do love feedback though).

The day was grey and depressing, low hanging clouds darkened the sky, blocking any rays that the sun tried to push through to brighten the darkness.  The town hadn’t seen the sun for a couple of days now, and people were becoming depressed, wanting to feel the gentle caress of a late fall sun.

A girl walked down the street, unwilling to face the impending winter, ignoring her breath hanging in the cold air.  She sniffled, before pulling up her shoulder and trying to hide her head in her jacket like a scared turtle.  But the girl wasn’t scared, she was cold.

Ahead of her, she saw a coffee shop.  It seemed like a good place to warm up.  She stepped inside, pulling her head free of her jacket.  The menu was limited, so it didn’t take long for her to make her decision and step up to the counter.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” the cashier said, forcing a smile.”Hi, could I please have a medium peppermint hot chocolate?” the girl replied.”That’ll be three dollars even.” Pulling out her wallet, the girl handed over the money.  The cashier put it in the till before starting on her hot chocolate, “it’ll be a moment, miss.”"That’s fine.”  Bored, the girl began to wander around the empty coffee shop. It surprised her that nobody was there, usually coffee shops were bustling and full, not empty and forgotten with one employee working.  She didn’t know why she’d never seen the coffee shop before, but she liked it.  It had a dark wooden floor with shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, a mix of old, worn books and merchandise for everything in the area.  A rack of baked goods stood near the till, looking homemade and not perfectly round or flat, covered in plastic wrap.

“Miss, you’re hot chocolate.” The cashier looked tired, like everybody else she had seen lately, w

andering around school, through the town, and even the peppy radio DJ sounded exhausted, ready for a long, long break to come.

“Oh, thank you.” She picked up the disposable cup and thought about leaving, continuing her walk to the mall for pre-Christmas window shopping.

Slowly, she turned towards the door.  The girl took a step, then stopped and turned back to the cashier, who was lounging against the counter, eagerly awaiting his shift’s end.

“Excuse me, but are we allowed to read the books on the shelves?” she asked, hesitating.

“Yeah, sure.”

Smiling slightly, she walked over to a shelf and grabbed a book

before finding a chair by the window.  She took a sip of the steaming drink, trying not to giggle as the delicious taste of peppermint slid across her tongue.

Sighing, she looked out the window and across the street.  A lone flag hung there, flapping weakly in the small breeze, but what caught her eye was the colors.  They seemed so bright and colorful, like spring flowers erupting from the ground after a long winter, brightened by the ray of sunshine finally breaking through the clouds.

The girl smiled, it seemed like the grey days were over, at least for now.  And another dreary day that would come along could be fixed in the homey coffee shop, where she was alone, with a new book.

Rather a pointless story, wouldn’t you agree?