You Can't Respect Somebody Who Kisses Your Ass, It Just Doesn't Work

Mood: Jubliant. Elated, even
Watching: Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Okay, there's been a decent break between Klostermans and today will not be the continuation (well, maybe when it isn't 230 in the morning). A LOT of shit has gone down, but that's not what this is about either (that and everyone should know what it all is anyway, and if they don't ask me in person).
No, this is about a man from Nantucket. Everyone knows the "there once was a man from Nantucket" part of the limerick, but who actually knows the rest of it? Me, that's who. Thank you Wikipedia for this insightful entry.....

There once was a man from Nantucket

Whose dick was so long he could suck it.

While wiping his chin,

He said with a grin,

"If my ear were a cunt, I could fuck it."

And there you have it folks.

Catch The Mist, Catch The Myth, Catch The Mystery, Catch The Gift

Mood: Oddly exultant
Watching: Little Britain DVD Extras!

Holy shit I've missed like three days! Alright, jumbo post today then

Question 5: You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear- for the rest of your life0 sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear CCR on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you). Would you swallow the pill?

Answer: I'd take the pill. Why would I let my soul mate suffer? Plus I like Alice in Chains :). And I'm sure if it was driving me crazy I could just track down the maker of this pill and get some kind of treatment.

Question 6: At long last, someone invents "the dream VCR." This machine allows you to tape an entire evening's worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device if you agree to a strange caveat: When you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the same room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. And if you don't agree to this, you can't use the dream VCR. Would you still do this?

Answer: Yeah, sure, why not? My dreams aren't particularly exciting, plus the number of times I have weird fucked up sex dreams is not that common. And everyone has those dreams anyway so it'd be hypocritical for someone to freak out because I have them. Silly buggers. Plus I occasionally have really cool dreams and I want to remember them in detail.

Question 7: Defying all expectation, a group of Scottish marine biologists capture a live Loch Ness Monster. In an almost unbelievable coincidence, a bear hunter in the Pacific Northwest shoots a Sasquatch in the thigh, thereby allowing zoologists to take the furry monster into captivity. There events happen on the same afternoon. That evening, the president announces he may have thyroid cancer and will undergo a biopsy later that week. You are the front-page editor of the New York Times. What do you play as the biggest story?

Answer:Well, since the president MAY have thyroid cancer it's not actually a news story, it's just supposition. But Nessie and Bigfoot actually being captured? SHIT, that's total front page news.

There's Been Times I Thought I Couldn't Last For Long But Now I Think I'm Able To Carry On

Mood: Slightly anxious with a hint of nausea
Watching: My brains slowly circle down the drain because I can't remember shit

Chuck Part 4

Question 4: Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla". Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an IQ of almost 85, and -most notably- a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent. You are the commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

Answer: Hell no!
For multiple reasons.
1) This gorilla, while very intelligent for a gorilla, is pretty dumb for a person, sad but true. Like Tom Jackson hypothetically says, this monkey could be susceptible to misdirection which is a major part of football. It'd be a big guy standing in the back row who lets all the other guys run circles around him.
2) 700 pounds is a lot bigger than most football players, who tend to top out at probably 300 before they actually lose the ability to run for more than a minute each game. That monkey hits you and you are FUCKED, regardless of whether or not he intentionally meant to hurt you. The same applies on the reverse. It'd be like running into a hairy, smelly brick wall.
3) Gorillas do this thing where, when angered, they charge and trample whatever's in their way. You can't take away millenia of instinct. So piss this monkey off enough with your misdirection and, again, y'all be fucked.
4) The members of the Raiders would have to learn sign language in order for the gorilla to be able to effectively communicate. That means that if any of their opponents know sign language they can figure out what the hell they're planning, which totally defeats the purpose of having a play book.
5) The problem with being self aware is that you are aware of more complex emotions like frustration, which sucks but is part of any kind of sporting event, particularly if you're losing. No one wants a frustrated and depressed gorilla, come on now.

Sorry monkey, no dice.

My Gift Is My Song, And This One's For You

Mood: Meh. Studying, yay!
Watching: Sin City: The Hard Goodbye (holy shit, I forgot how awesome this movie was!)

Continuing the epic saga of el Chuck, one day at a time....

Question 3: Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical. Which option do you select?

Answer: Sick fuck that I am, I'm going to have to go for Hitler's skull. Now, don't get me wrong, I think turtles are adorable and I'm sure they're relatively easy to take care of. It's the wording of the question that troubles me. What is a "relatively" normal turtle? Does this imply that something may or may not be wrong with this turtle, but that in all other matters it's normal? I don't want to get some haggard turtle that's going to croak on me due to some pre-existing turtle disease before the two years is up. Homey don't play that.
Hitler's skull on the other hand is both an entertaining conversation piece ("Oh, what's that?" "Hitler's skull." "How the fuck did you get Hitler's skull?!") and two years worth of fun. Since the skull must be displayed apolitically I can't use it to prop up a menorah or write "Die Nazi Scum" on it in permanent marker, or put a pink triangle on it or anything like that. HOWEVER, if I wanted to turn Hitler's skull into, say, a candy dish, that wouldn't be unacceptable. I'd just have to plug up the entry wound for that bullet, but the fire would probably have burned away any remaining bits of tissue (also the passing of time). I could use it as a vase, keep goldfish in there (again with some more plugging of holes), use it as a candle holder, hold readings of "Hamlet" and use it as a prop. Hitler: perpetrator of human atrocities, man of many household uses.

That and I could really use the money.

You May Think I'm Crazy, Drunk And Stoned, But I Don't Wanna Be Messed Up Alone

Mood: Sleepy McGee, as per the usual
Watching: Resident Evil:EXTINCTION. Oh Ali Larter, how your acting outside of Heroes blows....

And now, the continuing saga of the Chuck....

Question 2: Let us assume a fully grown, completely health Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that - for some reason- every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel toe boots. Would you attempt to do this?

Answer: No way in hell. Now, while the majority of my reasoning behind this has to do with that fact that that's cruelty to animals and I'm kind of against that, I do have other reasons. Those political prisoners are in prison because they willing got involved in whatever the hell it was that got them thrown into a foreign prison. They woke up in the morning and said "Fuck yeah, today's the day I go do something noble/stupid/suicidal for my countrymen." These people had the freedom to choose their fate, and probably went into it knowing full well that the consequences of their actions might be some time in a prison (or a lot of time). Now, granted, I'm sure some of these political prisoners have been kept unjustly, but that poor horse is not the reason why there's a communications breakdown between those nations particular governing bodies. That horse was just randomly plucked from some farm/racetrack/glue factory and shackled.

Granted, some of these political prisoners are in prison for insane reasons that have more to do with that country's government than anything else. But, again, that horse didn't fuck up your government. It's a horse. I'd rather put on steel toes and kick a political prisoner to death in twenty minutes to save all the other ones than that poor bastard horse.

Also, it'd take a hell of a lot more time to kick a horse to death than twenty minutes, those fuckers are BIG.

She Can Kill With A Smile, She Can Wound With Her Eyes

Mood: Sleepy yet oddly contented. Well, not contented. Mediocre, dece?
Watching: Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (funny even though I'm half assed watching it really....)

So as anyone who knows my reading preferences knows, I kind of <3 style="">Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs I've discovered a section of 23 questions, the answers to which will prove to Chuck whether or not he can really love someone. I have taken it upon myself to answer all 23 of these questions. Luckily for you I'm doing them a day at a time so you don't have to read 18 pages of shit. ENJOY!

QUESTION 1: Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks: he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two other tricks in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny our of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence. Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

ANSWER: Yes. Einstein had to spend years working on his theory of relativity that supposedly is the mathematical equation that explains our universe. This is a very impressive achievement in and of itself. However, theories can be proved wrong. This is not the FACT that explains the universe, it's just a mathematical equation that may or may not prove something in the long run. This magician, on the other hand, can actually perform feats that are unique. Now, this skill probably took many many years to learn, possibly as long as it took for Einstein to learn enough about math and physics to create E=mc2. But, as was previously stated, Einstein's theory can be proved wrong. This magician, without a doubt, can do MAGIC; he can perform feats that should be impossible, and yet can do with relative ease. Now, as to the limited range of these tricks, let us consider the things that Einstein is remembered for by the majority of the global population: crazy hair, E=mc2, the atom bomb. Two out of three things on that list are pretty damn dubious, and one thing, as I said, could hypothetically prove to be wrong entirely. This magician on the other hand is a five trick pony. That's five more magic tricks than Einstein could do. Magician for the win.

Don't Hesistate Now Honey, Or It Will All Fall Down

Mood: WAY too depressed to be studying
Considering: Flinging herself down a flight of stairs so she can avoid going to her exam tomorrow

So I've spent most of the day (about eight hours actually) procrastinating in the most ridiculous ways possible (ie lurking the blogs of people I barely even know going back like a year, watching random clip videos people made from cute moments from super gay movies, eating). I just don't want to study for my film exam, which is STUPID because I really REALLY need to study for this bitch (and Comm...fucking Comm!!!!!!!!). Now you might think that talking about film is all kinds of fun but it's not. I suck at it. I can't find meanings in a scene, I just enjoy it. I HATE TALKING ABOUT FILM! WHY DID I TAKE A FILM CLASS! ARRGGGH!

I also have this fear, this supposedly irrational and insane fear, that I'm going to become one of those people who is always ALWAYS angry. Not like certain people I work with at the theatre who are basically just cunts with anger problems, but like constantly simmering away. Which of course is a terrible terrible thing considering my family's long history of heart problems (on both sides mind you). I think I might have been born lacking the ability to control my anger, which is pretty evident if you've ever seen me angry. I'm quick to get pissed and while I can generally back it down all it takes is one little thing to set me off again. Anger is probably one of my easiest emotions to feel because a) I do it all the time and b) It doesn't seem to cost me anything when it happens. But it does cost me in the end because I'll say something stupid that winds up hurting someone I love, or I'll do something that pisses someone off and then refuse to admit I did anything wrong because, hey, still angry. I don't deal with it well, and I tend to bottle it all up inside as much as possible, which, as anyone who has done this before knows, isn't healthy and generally results in minor explosions of wrath. Generally at the worst possible times, generally in front of people who you NEVER want to see you like that. There have been MULTIPLE occasions in my life where I've actually been so angry I can't sleep, and considering how badly my mind rambles when I'm trying to fall asleep, it's about 100000000000 times worse when I'm angry. Bring on the sleeping meds man...

I think a lot of this is coming from the fact that a) I'm in a high stress situation right now (ie exams) b) Things aren't really working out for me at the moment (ie job) and c) I don't really have anyone to talk to because pretty much everyone I know is going through the same things right now. Dumping my problems on everyone else might help me, but it sure as hell doesn't help them. See, this is where boyfriends (or good ones anyway) are helpful because you can vent to them and their natural response is cuddling. Bitch needs a cuddle right about now......Kitty? Bondage Bear? Anyone?......I'm all alone, there's no one here beside meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Ah fuck it, who cares. School's done in a week REGARDLESS, fuck the theatre, fuck money, FUCK ALL THIS SHIT!

Hey, maybe anger's good for something after all...

Learn To Live Like An Animal In The Jungle Where We Play

Mood: Unnecessarily upbeat. Why? It's almost 130 in the AM
Watching: The words magically appear on my laptop screen

WOW! I NEVER UPDATE THIS SHIT!
She's bringing blogging back....*yeah*

Um, allow me to summarize the last....eight months of my life for you. Here goes *ahem*

September: Started year two of Brock. Things are looking up. Didn't die, didn't have a panic attack on the first day (fucking Spanish last year), didn't want to kill myself. Bonus! Kind of stopped talking to Brad for stupid reasons (stupid in retrospect, TOTALLY valid at the time). Tried not to rape ex boyfriend.

October: Went to a gay bar for the first time. Got REALLY REALLY drunk (not for the first time) and managed to dance it away. Imbibed an illegal substance for the first time. Went to Ottawa for the first time. Freaked out on ex-boyfriend in front of strangers after not sleeping for 25 hours and consuming a lot of liquor among other things. Went on "friendship break" with ex boyfriend. Got a new tattoo. Got retarded cold. Almost had panic attack over ridiculous essays.

November: Reacquainted with old friends. Finally got rid of retarded cold. Got lowest mark ever on a university essay (at that point in time). Got back together friend wise with ex. Learned something unfortunate that shall not be repeated regarding ex. Tried not to murder ex.

December: Got poor. Got some unfortunate news (two guesses whom it was regarding). Sucked it up and dealt, proving again I am awesome...occasionally. Had the BEST.NEW.YEARS.EVER. Learned to love High School Musical through the medium of ice skating.

January: Tried to avoid creepy guy I met at the gay bar on New Years. Started new class (yay classics!). Became slowly dissatisfied with theatre job. Still poor! Had the BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER. thanks to her amazing AMAZING friends. Felt kind of old and tired.

February: Had an insane reading week that involved gay bar, Queen, and awkward Starbucks night. Hated Valentine's Day a little bit more. Had a spectacularly epic trip to Toronto with ex boyfriend that involved missed go trains, misplaced debit cards, and wandering around Church street in the freezing cold. Poor and lonely. Rocked out at brother's Stag and Doe and reunited with Braddums.

March: Realized that life is alright again, that her friends are amazing, and that yes, Virginia, you can be friends with your ex and not have to pine for him constantly. Brother got married the day after I got the 24 hour stomach flu. The wedding was gorgeous at least. Decided I'm leaving the theatre and tried to get a job at Sitel.

And here we are in April, ladies and gentlemen, which has so far begun with one really really awesome weekend and two really really shitty essay marks (who the fuck gets 40% on a Comm paper! This bitch apparently....). Tyler spent the weekend at my house while my parents were away on a well deserved (and entirely free! Go Dad, getting an award) cruise. We did not trash the house, thank you very much. I'm a wonderful house sitter (and my services are totally available). We had a good time, or at least I had a good time, but it all made me realize that living with someone who isn't your family is a lot different. Not that Tyler was a bad guest, he was pretty damn awesome actually, but you have to remember that just because that person lives with you doesn't mean your lives all of a sudden revolve around each other. I mean, granted, we had to kind of plan things because he was also borrowing my car, but at the same time he does have other things to do with his life. Just because I'm at home alone doesn't mean he has to run over to be there with me. Basically, what I'm saying is, I have experienced living with someone, and have decided that this is the kind of roommate I want. Someone who is down for hanging out, but who isn't in your face ALL THE TIME. I like it.

I've also decided that the theatre is pretty much gone. I still like the job but the reasons I was willing to put up with the bullshit before (ie. I like the people) is pretty much irrelevant and ridiculous. Yes, I like the people I work with, but anyone who I really like I talk to and hang out with outside of work. Everyone else is just pleasant to hang out with WHILE on the job, but I probably wouldn't talk to outside of it. Plus leaving the theatre means I can stop smelling like the inside of an asshole every time I finish for the day (REGARDLESS of where I've been working as well). So I'm trying to get a job at Sitel and so far we've been playing phone tag. I'm hoping they call me back tomorrow or the next day because I'm free all day! *psychically sends messages to people at Sitel to call her ASAP). I've decided I don't want to quit before April 26th though because I want to say I was actually there for three years. Therefore once Iron Man shows up I'm GONE baby. All I can say is it's been a slice, but y'all don't pay me for shit, I smell disgusting when I leave, and you make the poorest promotional decisions I have EVER seen.

School is almost done, and with it goes any kind of motivation I have to actually go back to school. I'm not enjoying my program, I don't know what I want to do, and I'm disturbingly far in debt. That's not to say I'm dropping out, I'm just taking a few months off to pay down the line of credit and get my thoughts in order. It's not like I'm the only person in the world whose done it either. But, and massive shout out to the people who have done this, I don't see myself going back to school after 25. I mean, when I'm 25 I'd like to at least have an end in sight, you know? I don't want to be trying to reinvent myself before I turn 30. But again, I have a disgusting amount of respect for all the amazing folks who can do that, who know what they want to do (or have a vague idea at least) and are trying to do it. I just want some satisfaction in my life NOW.

Speaking of satisfaction, lets just say that my life has become a sitcom. Only, unlike in said television standard, it's not fucking funny. At all. Well, it's a little funny, but it's only funny in retrospect. Like bellbottom jeans were only kind of cool in retrospect, or the Spice Girls only kicked ass in retrospect. I know why people generally try to separate themselves from their exes as much as possible now, but at the same time Tyler is probably my bestest friend on the face of the Earth. No lie, if he was in Botswana and gave me a call saying he was in trouble, I'd be on a plane and hooking up with a militia to save his ass. Okay, that was a)melodramatic and b) kind of racist, but STILL! I'd so do it. Only he's going off to Vancouver Film School (fingers crossed, baby) next year and I find myself thinking about what I'm going to do. Be sad, obviously, but Brad's going to Ryerson (also, fingers crossed) and Aidan's in Ottawa and I suddenly feel very alone. But not alone, because I'm discovering how intensely awesome the people I work with at Chapters really are. Regardless of the fact that for the most part there's at least a three year age gap, no one really gives a shit. We hang out and have fun and I feel included, which is lovely (thank you guys :]). So I wouldn't be starved for company. Also, I'd have more free time (which sounds horrible, but I'm kind of a solitary girl so it would be kind of nice). Maybe I'll go to the gym and get a bitchin' hot bod so when I go to BC all the stoner boys fall madly in love with me.
Who am I kidding, they totally will anyway.

Also, people, watch Torchwood. Seriously. Janto needs more love.

Peace out, my lovelies
-KK