I owe you one

Wow. I’ve only made 7 posts this month.

This is pathetic.

Ok, since I owe you a post (or more like multiple posts) I’ll write you one. But can I please mention that this might be the perfect place to mention this good old adage?

One good blog post a month is better than 30 shitty ones.

– My Mother

So. There we go. I should probably also remove the “Daily Blogger” badge, but let’s face it, would I really do that? (Shake your head, please.) You may say, why? And I may say, because I’m too prideful, or too embarrassed or too lazy to take it down. Whatever. Just know that it’s not happening.

Ok, so a blog post.

Well, I had a brilliant idea in mind, but I just lost it. So I’ll talk about my WONDERFUL LUCID DREAMING EXPERIENCE.

Actually, not. You see the problem is, if you want to lucid dream, you actually have to work at it. Like, you have do stuff. And you know how much I hate doing stuff. Ok, some checklists I’ve found:

  1. Keep a dream journal
  2. Meditate for 20 minutes before sleeping
  3. Eat avocado (actually not really)
  4. Do the WBTB and WILD techniques. (Hell knows what the heck they are)
  5. Draw A’s on your palm
  6. Sleep

Of all of them, number 6 is the only thing I do. (Well, I also eat avocado, but that doesn’t count.) First off, let’s be honest, who in their right mind goes around drawing freaking A’s on their palms? And da hell is WBTB and WILD? I don’t know about you, but personally, I find this to be wayy too much work. (Winky face.)

So I guess no lucid dreaming then? Aw shucks. I guess then, according to World of Lucid Dreaming DOT COM, I’m not gonna be able to find my ideal partner and fulfill my… sexual fantasies. What bullshit.



Today, I was introduced to the infamous Haribo Sugar Free Gummy Bears. Actually, clarification, I was introduced to the reviews on Amazon for the infamous Haribo Sugar Free Gummy Bears. Hell, I did not actually eat them. I’m not that stupid.

So, I just wanted to say that my life is now complete.

For those who don’t know, apparently, these gummy bears contain lycasin which tastes just like sugar, but completely screws with the digestive tract. It causes bloating and huge diarrhea bombs. The poor people who ate these gummies, well, you’ll have to see for yourself.

What I need to share though is this recipe brought to you by one of the smart reviewers of these gummy bears. Here, is the popcorn of death.


4 qts. popcorn
1 1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. white karo
1 c. butter
2 tbsp. vanilla
1 bag colored marshmallows
4 c. Killer Haribo Sugarless Gummy Bears

Boil sugar, Karo and butter to big bubble stage, add vanilla, and then add Killer Gummy Bears until they melt. Pour over popped corn. Mix.


Add the popcorn to a washed holiday popcorn tin with all labels removed, seal with cellophane tape along the edge (this gives it the impression of being factory sealed) add a nice bow and card. Then eat the marshmallows while you laugh and think about all of the havoc you are going to cause.

This probably made my day. The guy used it on his asshole boss and ended up quarantining his office for three months because the paramedics thought his boss got bird flu, getting the asshole boss fired and getting a promotion. I have no proof that this story is real, but it sure was hilarious. If anyone wants to read it, you can find it here.

Sometimes, I wonder about the stupidity of mankind….

Book Review: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

The following review is for the book The Story of Edgar Sawtelle . Please note that this may contain spoilers

Rating: 5/5

Born mute, speaking only in sign, Edgar Sawtelle leads an idyllic life with his parents on their farm in remote northern Wisconsin. For generations, the Sawtelles have raised and trained a fictional breed of dog whose remarkable gift for companionship is epitomized by Almondine, Edgar’s lifelong friend and ally. Edgar seems poised to carry on his family’s traditions, but when catastrophe strikes, he finds his once-peaceful home engulfed in turmoil.

Forced to flee into the vast wilderness lying beyond the Sawtelle farm, Edgar comes of age in the wild, fighting for his survival and that of the three yearling dogs who accompany him, until the day he is forced to choose between leaving forever or returning home to confront the mysteries he has left unsolved.

This book was absolutely beautiful.

Wroblewski really has a way with words that can blow a reader away and this book really is a masterpiece.

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle is written simply to be read. It’s a tale to be told, but it’s also a tale you can’t ponder on for too long. Wroblewski is just trying to tell the reader a story. It’s like a fairy tale, some elements might make no sense (like how there could be a house made of ginger bread in the middle of a forest in Hansel and Gretel) but it only adds to the wonder of this book.

Wroblewski really knows how to create an image and the entire story flows perfectly. The characters are heartfelt, sometimes even laughable, but they really reveal parts of personalities that most books don’t portray because, frankly, it’s hard to portray these perks without sounding fake. Just like how Glen does the rehearsing, the fantasies of interrogating Edgar. It may seem weird, but if you think about it, isn’t it quite true that sometimes, people get so engulfed in their fantasies that they try to create them in real life without realizing the consequences?

I do have to admit, there were quite a few places where I didn’t quite understand. The prologue in particular was confusing, and nothing about it quite seemed relevant to the whole story. Ida, the shopkeeper, was weird and I didn’t quite understand the whole thing with her and the coke bottle scene. But none of this was anything big enough for me to give the book negative points.

The biggest problem I had with this book was Edgar anger. Much of it was somewhat confusing. I couldn’t quite understand where his anger was coming from. I could understand that he was angry, but some of his actions were left unexplained and unclear. He acts a little too abruptly and sharply for what seemed like a pretty mellow person, especially since he was raised in an “idyllic” childhood.

Nevertheless, this book is quite a good read and I strongly recommend it to anyone search for just simply a story to read.

The following review was written following the rules for One Book One Review. (With the exception of the 1000 word rule)

Summary courtesy of Goodreads.

The Magic Button of OK

This is really absolutely the worst time of school year.

There’s one month left and all I want to do and throw all of my stuff down and spurt magical fire over them while screaming “Screw school!” Procrastination has never been worse and I’ve been wasting most of my time mashing the magical Make Everything OK Button and hoping that something will magically change. Maybe I do need to check my settings of perception of objective reality.

Not to mention, my sudden laziness has made me not post almost at all this month. I’ve accidentally skipped two weeks of flash fiction prompts because I kept on telling myself “Oh, you can just do it tomorrow.” This is one of those times where Scarlett O’Hara’s whole “You can fix it tomorrow!” mantra doesn’t exactly work anymore. No I cannot do it tomorrow because it’s due tomorrow, goshdarnit.

Now, peace out, because I gotta attempt some homework.

Brussel Sprouts and All


Prompt: “Weird things remind me of her. Cabbage,  for instance.”

Dandy didn’t miss his girlfriend. Not a tad bit at all.

“You know, because all that she ever when on about was how good brussel sprouts were for the body and how I shouldn’t be eating that pizza when I had brussel sprouts right on the pizza.”

Of course, what he never mentioned was the fact that those brussel sprouts were fake and that they actually tasted like pepperoni.

“She only ever goes on and on about being healthy. It’s like that’s the only thing that matters to her. Not me. Not anything. Just being healthy.”

He’d walked into bars every day complaining like that. What was so great about being healthy? It was just making your body feel better while mentally living lifestyle of hell. Eating healthy was horrible. Dandy couldn’t get himself to believe in any of that bullcrap anyways. Cabbage could make you less likely to get cancer? Well, hell, he should smoke more cigarettes as well then. They were both made of plants.

“It’s so annoying now, cuz like weird things remind me of her. Like cabbage.”

He’ll just be standing in his kitchen choppin’ some salad up because his skin and bones female friend was coming over and suddenly he see his girlfriend flashing in his mind, lecturing in the usual way that she did, her head tilt slightly up, her right arm on resting on her hip and her left finger pointing accusingly at him. Of course, her words all went through one ear and out the other. The only word he ever retained was cabbage and so only the faint echo of cabbage ever flew out of her mouth in his mind.

“It’s just so annoying. Really! I think I might be scarred for life.”

She really was the type of “life-changing” girlfriend. He would never be able to eat another cabbage ever again.

A Dump Of Thoughts

Alright. I’ve got exactly ten minutes to write whatever is on my currently pretty empty mind and click post without proofreading, finishing unfinished sentences/paragraphs or doing any of that shit.



Well, I guess I’ll start with the fact that I got really panicky yesterday when I was trying to make a post and whenever I tried clicking publish, it wouldn’t publish. It was weird though because posting worked fine on my other blog, (which is a private test blog, if you were curious why you’ve never heard about it) but it just wasn’t working here.

So naturally, I thought I was going to have to go through a bunch of crazy stressful blog moving things when I remembered that, oh my god, handy-dandy Google is sitting right in front of me. How could I forget? So I do a quick Google search and guess what I found? Apparently some AdBlocks mess with WordPress’s posting system and I had AdBlock turned on.

Turned off AdBlock and voila, post postedt flawlessly.

My god that caused a lot of stress.

(4 minutes)

And then, uhhhhhh, I decided that I would… do something? (Ok, now this is really not making any sense anymore…)

Actually though, I was going through some popular mangas and animes and honest to god, why do all of the really popular ones have to be the ones that are 8000 chapters/episodes long? It’s horrible! Fairy Tail is like 380 some chapters and all I know about Naruto is that it’s got more than 500 chapters. This is ridiculous. Do you know how much time one would have to waste in order to read/watch all of that?

It sucks actually.

(7 minutes)

And then there’s this kid in my class who is really annoying. Acutally this is “friend” of mine who’s really really rude, but I’m trying to avoid high school drama on this blog mostly because I might possibly want to hide the fact that I might be an immature idiot. Oh and don’t get me started on prom.

Honestly, I don’t get prom.

Why spend 100 some dollar just to buy expensive dresses, dress-up and go a pretty just to go to a place where you can dance and eat food with your friends? I could easily do that much cheaper and still have just as much fun. Like seriously. This is really

(10 minutes)

“It wasn’t me!”

The wonders of the English language really allows for something as simple as “I didn’t say your name.” to be a sentence with many different meanings. How? Let’s try an exercise. First off, make sure no one else is in the room before you say “I didn’t say your name.” out loud. Now picture what is the scene behind this sentence. You can go simple or complicated. Once you’ve got that down, read on. Bolded words are to be stressed.

1. “I didn’t say your name.”

No, not me, her. You’ve found the wrong person to blame.

2. “I didn’t say your name.”

Maybe you’ve got earwax or something? Because I most definitely did not say your name. I was ordering a hamburger.

3. “I didn’t say your name.”

Maybe I signed it? Motioned it? Sung it? But not say. Saying things is way to boring.

4. “I didn’t say your name.”

Please, I called for my friend Mary over there. I know maybe Fogo and Mary sound like the same thing, but still, you can’t just assume that I’m calling for you.

5. “I didn’t say your name.”

I called for you, not your name. You sent the wrong thing over.

So, which one of these matched with the scene in your head?