Thursday, January 21, 2010

Thanks To All You English Types

I appreciate everybody's contributions to the blog site this past month. Finalizing all my grades from the Fall semester and making copies of handouts for the Spring semester got me to thinking how much I'm going to miss having you guys First Period. I hope you did well on your other class's final exams, and I wish you the best next semester!

Remember this: "The man who knows everything has fleas in each ear, and they look up the answers" -- Carl Sandburg.

(Who am I kidding, you guys aren't going to read this. You are probably off Twittering or hooking up with friends on Facebook!)

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

My letter

Dear Mr. Hampton:

It was dark, warm, humid, and 4 am. My cheek was pressed against the window. I could feel the hot tears running down my face, as my eyes lingered on the fading image of the only place I have ever known, my hometown, Mays Landing, NJ. Little did I know that on the morning of July 18,2008, my life would change as I had known it. Sitting in the car I flashed back to the night before. We were at our friend’s house saying goodbye and my friend walked out. The fact of moving had not really hit me yet but when he walked out and said “bye” all the tears that I had been holding back came out. The entire ride to dinner I just cried letting al my pain and anger come out. Little did I know that this was just the start that even now there would be nights that I cry myself to sleep. But I, Erin Norell, was starting a whole new chapter in my life called Morganton, NC. While starting a new life, I would discover new friends and how true my old ones are, my style, and how creative my imagination was.

A year later I am sitting uptown with my friends at Hams, laughing with my friends, and having fun in a place I was determined to hate. I am not going to lie. Starting High School with no friends is horrible and nerve-racking, but as time went on I surrounded myself with new friends, while still keeping up with my old ones. In North Carolina I have met two of the most amazing friends that I will never forget. Gaby Jaynes and Stephanie Norman. Throughout this entire semster they have helped me every step of the way. I don’t know what I would do without them. Gaby is so smart that it is scary sometimes. We call the short 5’1 mathleete, since she is so good at math. If it weren’t for Gaby I don’t know how I would even pass math. Stephanie is the tallest of us all and the best at world history. We have so much fun together, running through malls trying not to get in trouble with cops. Stephanie is the one I can count on for anything. With Gaby and Stephanie I can’t go wrong. Now my best Jersey friends are; Ciera, Liz, and Lauren. Ciera has been with me since 5th grade. We have gone through everything together. She knows everything about me; every single detail about my life she knows. When I have a problem I go running to her; she is always on my side. When some really bad things were happening to her around 7thgrade, I was there for her. We are so close I call her my sister. Even though she lives 600 miles away, she is the one I would call if I were in jail, because she would come bail me out. I think it’s truly amazing that I am as close to her as I am far away. Then there is Liz. She is an amazing girl, even though she is at least 5 inches shorter than me she has a way about her that makes her seem like the biggest person in the room. I have known her since 7thgrade,and since then we have been inseparable. If some one made me cry she will say” who is it I will kill them”. She is the one person you want on your side, because with her you can’t loose. Even though Ciera and Liz live in N.J; they are the two people I will always run to when my world is falling apart. Finally, my true best friend, she is only 5’2, has the same natural hair color as me, and we share dad’s blue eyes, is my baby sister, Lauren. We don’t always get along, we fight constantly, but in the end she is always there for me 24/7 365. Mom tells us that one day we will be tremendously close. I hope so. I want us to be like how we are on our good days, just chilling on my bed, doing our nails, and facial masks, while we watch an “NCIS” marathon. I know one day, when were old, we will laugh and wonder how we even fought over such petty things. Even though she knows exactly how to aggravate me, we are family and I can forgive her for being annoying. I know Lauren will always stand by me. I just hope I can do the same for her. If it weren’t for theses people and, many more, I don’t know how different life would be. All of these people affect my style and me so much without them I just might be a different person.

Ear-shattering music blasting, a glistening runway filled with picture perfect models with lights dancing across the clothes, all ads up to one thing, style, my personal style. For me, fashion is a huge part of my life. Its how I express myself. I can spend hours poring through fashion magazines, looking at the clothes and what’s new or what new trend is in this season. Style is what a drug is to an addict, I love going shopping and running my hands through the rich fabrics and feeling the soft silk on my hands. For me shopping is my high. Most people don’t understand why I would pay $ 300.00 for a purse, but if it is high quality and something that will be a classic and not just a trendy ”now” bag I think it is worth all $300.00. Right now I am really into the whole vintage look; I love raiding my moms clothes from the 80’s, even if I don’t have the guts to wear them to school. Some of my favorite stores are: Urban Outfitters, Delais, and Forever 21. To sum up my “personal style” is a mix of urban, and vintage 80’s, and some Hollister, and American Eagle in there. In the end though, it’s all up to my imagination to what I am going to wear today.

As he looks at her and whispers the three words she is longing to hear “ I love you,”is a perfect ending to a perfect story that only a wild imagination could come up with, and I definitely have a wild imagination. At any time I will just come up with a story in my mind that takes me to a whole new world. When I am bored or just need to escape, I let my mind run free. For example, many times over the summer I had to babysit, and when it was time to tuck the kids in I would tell them a story. It could be about knights in shinning armor, or an alien space war, or even a simple love story. Being able to imagine the impossible is important for me, and it gives me the ability to rewrite my life the way I want it, even if it won’t come true. Having a wild imagination is something I would never give up. My imagination lets me dream of what I will do one day; it helps me realize my life dream and the goals that will get me there.

In the end, my friends, style, and imagination are only a few things that make up my life, there is so much more that I could fill up an entire book, but for now I am focused on the future. My goals for the future are; to get an A in Dr. Smith’s class, go to UNC Chapel Hill, and then go to medical school and then become a doctor. One way or another I am going to achieve each one of my goals. I want my name to go down in history. So right now I am going to focus on the present, so I can make the future happen.

Sincerely,

Erin Norell

Karate

Karate, to me at least, is a blissful state in which the torments of this world fade away and the embrace of feral instinct rush forth to deliver an awe inspiring flow of maneuvers. A wondering resplendent blade, only but a glimpse or a flash, grooves its path through the wind to sing a faint euphony to my ears. My hand clasps the hilt for only a moment to send the fatal accoutrement into a harmless flight as the moon manifests its ghostly face upon the gleaming silver. The sword glides into my awaiting hand becoming uniform and is sheathed with a satisfying clink of metal. Reality creeps up my spine in the penetrating cold. A bead of sweat trickles down my face to soundlessly drop on the chilled pavement. I habitually give a cascading glance downwards as I remove the splintered sheath, while reaching for the old weather worn bostaff. Spinning the six-foot fragment of bamboo upwards, I felt the the unhindered spirit of freedom warm my soul as it invigorated my hands to manipulate the now propeller-like object to rotate behind me and whip into the air to sojourn with my soul's puppets. My fingers then guide the bostaff behind me to rest... I will contribute more to this.
I wanna rock!

UN-Creative

I do not know what to blog about i am not a very creative person and i am definitely not a good writer. I do not like writing "creative" papers because i can never figure out what i want to write about that wont sound stupid. I dont like to write much due to my incapability to be creative. I am usually not creative anyway in music, writing, or pretty much anything else but i dont mind because I dont have to try to put myself to creative standards like other people, that are creative, may hold themselves to. Another beefit of being un-creative is that people who may need creative ideas about things will not come to me so I will not have the weight of the responsibility of doing something for someone else that I may not complete for the said person and feel bad for them because of something that was my fault.

Is it really necessary??

I am so ready for next semester to be here already. All because of the snow, we have to make the semester an extra week. There was even a half-day that got changed to a whole day that we have to make up. School consumes to much of my life as it is. Some classes are just not necessary and I don't understand why they are mandatory. A certain class stresses me out of my mind... you may know what I'm talking about. Last test of the semester today...well at least half of it. This semester has lasted to long and it needs to end now!

MY FEET HURTS!!!

OWWWW!!!!
I'm in so much pain right now! Here, let me tell you something. Yesterday I went to DX my shoes in the supply room down in the JROTC building because it wasn't shiny anymore. I got a new pair of shoes, but it only looked the same size as my old one not exactly the same. You see, I have very wide feet although they may look small. Well, this morning I put them on but found that my feet was too big for it!! I jammed my feet into it anyways because I didn't want to bring an extra tennis shoes and then have to carry it back home with me.
So we were outside waiting for the bus and my feet was killing me. It was so excruciatingly painful!!! Every step I took was full of unbearable pain, and I looked like I was limping. So just a couple minutes ago I went down to the ROTC building to get a new pair. Then Sergeant Long made fun of me and asked why didn't I come earlier. Oh well! But I'm still in very much pain from the shoe I was just wearing, and my heels feel terrible. I feel like I'm going back to summer camp when I had to break in a pair of boots and ended up with a huge blister at the back of my ankle!! :((((

Sham-Wow!!









So I'm watching Matthew type, right? and he's typing stuff about sleeping in class and dreaming and reacting to dreams, right?? And suddenly he just bursts out in "Fail-fail, fail-fail" in this metronome type rhythym. And rythym is a really wierd word when you look at it on a screen. I think I misspelled it. So, anyway, I'm gonna give you guys the screenplay for Sham-Wow! Guy in Jail, which you can look up on youtube later. It is very funny.



Guy that looks like Shamwow guy:(1)


Inmates:( 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, etc...)




(prison courtyard comes into view)


(Sham-Wow! guy standing at table)


1: Hey, you!


2: Who, me?


1:Yea. you! Yea, you want some playing cards? See these cards? They're made in Germany, y'know the German's always make good stuff.


(flaps cards out of his hands by accident)


1: Okay, I got another offer for ya. (pulls out lighter) See these? You try to light these things on fire, they don't light. Cell phone?(holds up phone) Ain't gonna light! This?(a mug) Ain't gonna light! Now this (cigarette) y'light this on fire, put it in your mouth, ya got a buzz. Now lets talk girls. You want girls? You don't have girls. You get one of these:(produces lingerie magazine)


[INAPPROPRIATE CONTENT -- EDITED BY MR. HAMPTON]


Cameraguy, you gettin' this?(gestures to no one)


3(in spanish): Who are you talking to??


1(hesitates): Who are you talkin' to...?


1: Okay, see this rubber knife? Bendy-bendy(bends knife), this isn't gonna protect yo uwhen Mitch over here tries to [GET] you.(gestures behind to inmate just walking around) But this? (produces switchblade and clicks it open) One stab(stabs Mitch), fleshwound. Two stabs? (stabs twice more) Dead. (starts throwing food onto body) Add ham, egg, some onions, three stabs, you got breakfast. I'm just kidding.


Okay, so here's the slap-chop. You put things in it, you chop it, you got salad. It also doubles as a zip-gun. (points at fat inmate and slaps, inmate is shot in head and dies) So call now, because you know I can't do this all day. I just killed two guys, an' I'm gonna get the electric chair.


(Inmates scatter)



So, y'know the Sham-Wow! guy's name is ironically Offer "Vince" Shlomi, and he's from Israel. Now, Okay, an Israelite is telling us that the Germans make good stuff. Okay, that's freaky. And his name is Offer. Okay, he's offering us amazing! deals on towel products and kitchen utensils, just like Billy Mays. Except it turns out that Billy Mays was really offended. I mean, sure he made everyone want to BUY OXYCLEAN!!!!, but there's really no contest: He's dead and "Vince" is here and just as good, selling us Sham-Wow! and the Slap-Chop, and if Billy Mays was still alive and hadn't hated Vince's guts they could have teamed up and TAKEN OVER THE WORLD!!!
'Course, Billy's dead, and Vince got an "offer"(get it?) from a [GIRL], who bit his tongue off. So now he isn't on T.V. anymore.

Dream Sequence!

Have you ever had a dream and in the dream you react to something, but you actually react in real life? It happens to me all the time... Like this one time, I was asleep in Algebra 2... ('cause I'm just that beasty?) and anyways I was asleep, and I dreamt of that movie Gattaca, and in the dream I do the finger-prick-thing and a door opens. I reach through the door but all of a sudden it slams shut. My hand gets caught in the door and I experience what I call dream-pain... you know where your mind thinks it is expeciencing pain in a dream but you really don't feel it? It's closely related to dream-fear, dream anger, dream-Fail, dream-sadness, and dream-etc... anyways! So I wake up from the dream and and my arm spasms and flys out from under my other arm (they were crossed) and it looks like I tried to back-hand someone in my sleep. Another time, I was asleep and my brother tries to ask me what I want for breakfast. However, as I said, I'm still asleep, and so I hear his voice in my dream through the mouth of this guy I'm my dream. So I go crazy and start ranting at the dream-guy (and therefore at my brother) about how it's nighttime, I don't want breakfast, and why his tie is purple with pink Polka Dots. Eventually my stepmom walks in and shakes me awake. Then I go eat some muffins.
The End.



And by the way, apparently this post is more amazing than that time the Emperor learned the best formula for good Star Wars dialogue.
Something, something, something Dark Side.
Something, something, something complete.

Yawn.


What is sleep? Currently I do not believe in sleep because I have not gotten much. I have always wondered why high school students, especially humanities, get absolutely no sleep during each one of their High School semesters. I better find out soon because many of us will soon be joining them in their zombie-like state.

Partly on of the reasons is procrastination from many of us from doing those big essays assigned to us weeks before it is due. Many people I know put it off until the last second and that contributes to their sleep deprivation. Most of our sleep deprivation is also due to the stress of High school. (i.e Band, homework, social life, sports, competition, love life, etc...)

This is my life of sleep as follows.
1. Wake up around 6:15 and get ready for school.
2. Proceed through the day as usually (7:50-2:50)
3. Go home, stay after school for things, do homework. (3:00-6:00)
4. Swim Practice or any practice for a sport. (7:30-9:00)
5. Eat, shower. (9:30-10:30)
6. Do more homework.(10:45-11:15)
7. Watch T.V (11:20-11:45)
8. Sleep (12:00-6:15)
9. Repeat 1-8
*All times are approximate

I believe there should be a law that teachers aren't allowed to assign more than 30 minutes of work every night so we can enjoy our youth before we go to college and become adults

So I walk into this bar, right??
....No, that's Matthew's thing. Okay, so... I can't sleep. When I'm in my own bed, my stepbrother and little brother in the incredibly small room we have to sit about in are always texting and talking and won't freakin' shut up!!! So I can't sleep until about after 12 o'clock. Last night, the one night I get in after 11, they are already asleep.
Conclusion: It's a freakin' conspiracy to keep me from waking up on time in the morning!!! I wake up an hour and a half before every one else in the house at 4:30am. Everyone else wakes up at 6:00... Well, they should. But they inevitably end up sleeping in until 6:30(with fifteen minutes left to get dressed, perform hygienic practices, and eat, mind you) The stepfather wonders why, but doesn't seem to want to physically pull anyone out of bed.
They seem to like keeping me up all night. And lately, I've been waking up at 5:30 and 6:00. Even this morning, an hour behind my normal schedule! I should like to kill them!
And another thing! I don't get to sleep in my own bed some nights, my stepbrother does. He constantly disrespects everyone, doesn't give a dang about school, doesn't make the bed when he gets up, and when he does makehte bed he does it in liek ten seconds and I end up making it for real before I go to sleep that night. And another thign! When I make it, as was the case this morning, what does he go and do??? He throws himself on it as soon as he gets up and starts text-messaging. I'll kill him! I'll kill him!!!
Okay, so here's the plan: I get him on a disco floor. He'll start running his mouth.... When suddenly an Elvis impersonator comes out of nowhere, WHAM!

Pirates are cooler than ninjas.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy, approximately six years of age, wandering the shores of Darkvane Beach. His name was William Redbird. William collected shells and seaweed to make necklaces. He sold his necklaces at the market on Svendays. People frequently purchased his home-crafted jewelry, because of its unique appearance ans because he claimed the owner would be protected from all danger. The story he told his customers was of beast-men called Berserkers. They were terrible creatures, with long, sharp fangs and horns sprouting out of their ears. He said the monsters ate the skulls of their victims and carved out the hearts to wear. William told the people that Berserkers were repelled by seaweed and seashells. Many believed the boy, but the gypsy queen of Frith knew he was lying. She did not make a mockery of young William. However, she did summon the Berserkers to Frith, telling them she would have payment for them to murder the lying boy. The following day, the nasty creatures arrived in Frith, decked in seaweed and sea shells around their necks. The leader, Thorgillian Maxima, ordered his army to raid the city, to take prisoner of any human who tried to stop them, and to search specifically for a young William Redbird, by order of queen Alicea. In the meantime, he would go meet with the queen and collect their reward. The monsters were off, then, stealing whatever they could. Many of them forgot to search for William; they would suffer greatly for this later. The town of Frith was turned upside down, windows were shattered, fires burned homes to the ground, and mutilated bodies were everywhere. William, who had been hiding the entire time in a warm pool of sea water, was terrified. He knew these Berserkers were looking for him. He knew his time was coming to an end. He realized, after a moment of reflection, that he needed to save his town from further destruction. If he shouted at the creatures that he was William Redbird, perhaps they would leave Frith. Alas, he could not give himself to these monsters. He was a coward, and he was ashamed. He stood up several times, and immediately lowered himself into the water again. All of a sudden, there was a terrible sound, more awful than the sound of a ship being dragged to the depths of the sea by the Krakken, more terrifying than the sound of a lion dying slowly and agonizingly, more painful than the sound of a mother who has just lost her son to war. It was queen Alicea, crying out in anger. She was screeching William's name. He could not ignore this call; he had to go. Slowly, he pulled himself out of the warm water, and faced the Berserkers. They smirked at him. He kept his head down, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. The Berserkers were terribly impatient. One of them, a large creature named Rotha scooped William up and carried him to meet the queen. When the two arrived, queen Alicea had been tied up and knocked unconscious. Thorgillian sent his warrior out, and said to William, "You are a liar, William Redbird. For this reason, you will come with me, work on my ship. You will be my slave boy. Forever." Thorgillian smiled cruelly at him. The child tried to be brave, to face his fate. He had made a mistake, and now he would suffer the consequences. He would spend the rest of his life on a cursed ship with awful creatures. They were going to beat him, he knew it. He was terrified, but he tried to conceal this weakness. "We'll be taking your queen, too. You'll have some company, at least," Thorgillian said. And so the Berserkers took their plunder and loaded it onto the ship. The captives were taken below deck, stripped and given rags, and chained. William sat in the corner of the dark room, crying silently. How had his life taken such an awful turn?
-to be continued.-

In Your Arms

We're laying here so close tonight,
You pull me in and hold me tight.
I'm looking up above at the sky,
This reminds me of the way I love your dark eyes.
Lying side by side I can hear you breathe
and being so close I can feel your heat.
Laying back in your arms
I let my whole heart melt and flow into the stars.
I've never felt so close to anyone before
I'm so glad it's you. I couldn't ask for more.
You take my hand and it's so rough, but soft
and for so long my heart has fought,
Friendship, love and care,
but then it found you, unexpected just there
readily standing there just waiting to take me away
from all the struggle, heartbreak and pain.
I lean my head back on your chest
and I think thats where I love to be best.
I never want this feeling to change,
and never let our feelings rearrange.
I always want it to be you and me
becasue we fit perfect together, can't you see?
Me thinking of you,
and you thinking of me.
Away from every light , thought and all harm
Just looking at the stars, laying back in your arms.

Monday, January 11, 2010

*Fact or Fiction*

It was a dark and uninviting morning. The men were crowded together in the foxhole, praying to God that their lives would be spared. Everyday mysterious clouds would cover the horizon and span for at least one hundred miles. At approximately the same hour every morning, thousands of crows would begin to fly out of the clouds. The men knew it was because they had invaded the homeland to fight for their country. The stage was set during World War II and my great-grandfather, Julius, began to stick his head out over the edge of the foxhole and “Boom….”, a fighter jet had just dropped a bomb.
Here and there fellow Americans were screaming and frantically running for a place to hide. The Germans shot several times into the barricade. Everyone in his group had been killed, except for him. It was silent, so the Germans began to wonder what was happening. Julius had to think fast. He played dead to save his life. The Germans were not satisfied with having killed a whole group of men, and with guns in tow, they were quickly approaching. The enemies entered the foxhole and began to kick and beat the Americans, to ensure they were all dead. Julius endured the pain, so as to not show he was still alive. They also took the valuables and belongings from the group; they took my great-grandfather’s watch, assuming he was dead. Soon after the Germans had left, he joined another platoon, and they began to head toward Amsterdam.
Unknowingly the Germans had received knowledge of where the Americans were going, and decided to follow them on their journey. The men realized this and spotted what seemed to be heaven across the way. Most of the men decided to hide in the building, thinking that their enemies would never think to look in there. Julius and a few of his comrades chose to continue on to Amsterdam. As they turned around a ghastly sight they beheld. The Germans had torched the structure and all the men hidden away inside. Now there were only four men and my great-grandfather. They killed each German soldier that was surrounding them. The Americans fought them off one by one, and proceeded to Amsterdam. Now during this time, some people would hide soldiers in their houses to keep them safe. Julius and his few fellow soldiers were invited into a house by a lady and her daughter. They were kept a secret in the basement of the house. The next day, German soldiers ordered that they be allowed to search the woman’s house. Without a worry in the world, she let them in. The Americans were so well hidden that the Germans did not suspect one thing. Little did my great-grandfather know, this woman who saved his life, would later turn out to be my great-grandmother. He had to leave Amsterdam and continue to fight for his country; but before he went on his way, the lady gave him a pair of wooden shoes that were the custom in that part of the world.
In 1946, after having successfully defeated Germany and Japan, Julius and his American counterparts were taken to New York by ship. He was being discharged from the 75th infantry of the army. The naval officers had to check the records of everyone who had safely arrived back in the U.S.A. When it came time for Julius to stand on solid ground, it was discovered that there was no record of him ever being drafted into the war. There were no records of him fighting for his life, his country, or his fellow soldiers. According to the U.S. government, he was never there, but he had proof-the love of his life! Two years later when the members of the 75th infantry got together in New York City, they decided to go on a game show. My great-grandfather was chosen to play, “Winner Take All”. He ended up winning a trip to, of all places, Amsterdam. He took his best man, his brother Clyde with him. After stepping off the plane, he immediately headed to the house on Tulip Street. Right then and there, he proposed. She said yes and less than four hours later, they were officially married. After saying farewell to her loved ones, the two were off to America, to a little place called Valdese, North Carolina.
The beginning of the war caused many problems and was devastating to Julius. By the conclusion of the war he was so glad that he fought for his country and came out victorious. He also never would have met the love of his life, if he had never joined the army.

spoon river

Hello, my name is Doctor Meyers and I’m here to tell you a little about myself before I was killed pneumonia. I would like to tell you the story that my tombstone doesn’t and how the people of this town ridiculed me for something I couldn’t prevent. I was a doctor in the small town of Spoon River and I was a caring one at that. Many people came to me when they couldn’t afford to go to some of the other doctors in the town because they knew that I would help them in any way that I could. I didn’t mind however, because I loved helping people and seeing them become healed from their ailments. The towns people knew that too but they didn’t take advantage of my generosity. They paid when they could and it was sufficient for me because I was fairly wealthy and had no trouble providing for me and my wife and also my children before they grew up and became mothers and fathers themselves. All the trouble began one night when Minerva came. Minerva was the town poetess and she didn’t have many friends but she seemed happy enough. Anyways, she came to me one night just absolutely crying her eyes out and very upset and begging me to help her. As soon as she asked, I took her into our living room and set her down on our couch and went and got my doctors tools. I woke my wife so she could come down and assist me. We got down stairs and Minerva was fading fast. I did everything I could to save her but something just wasn’t right with her. I just couldn’t find out what was wrong with her and I saw the light fading from her eyes and I worked even harder. No matter how hard I tried I knew I couldn’t save her. I didn’t know what else to do and the next time I looked at her, she was dead. I just didn’t know what to do. This had never happened before and all I could do was go to her family and tell them the news. The next day as I went into town, people glared at me and yell at me and one gentleman almost hit me in the jaw. I had no clue what was the problem until I bought a newspaper. The front headline was “Doctor kills woman” and then I knew that this was why everyone was ridiculing me. The pain didn’t stop there, oh no, it got worse than just putting it in the news paper. People came to my house at night and threatened to burn it down and some threw rocks through my windows. Finally my wife couldn’t take anymore of it and just collapsed one night, dead on the floor. I took her out that night to bury her so that the townspeople wouldn’t know where I buried her and go and dig her up and do God knows what with it. It was very cold that night and I was out there for several hours digging and burying. The next morning I woke up and cried a long time and then went down to try to fix breakfast and realized how bad I felt. Little did I know that I had caught pneumonia that night. I went this way for about two weeks and finally realized that it wasn’t going away so I went to Doctor Hill’s house, which was the only friend I had left in this town. I got him to check me out and I found out that I had an advanced case of pneumonia and that there was nothing he could do to help me. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say so I went home and just laid in bed for a week until I knew that I was going to live for no longer than twenty-four more hours. I got one of my servants to go to the engravers workshop and tell him what I wanted on my tomb stone. I wasn’t going to go down in history as a “killer” so I made sure I didn’t have anything bad about me on my grave. About an hour after my servant got back I drifted into a sleep, never to awake again on this earth. Her I am now telling you the story of what happened to me and how the people of the world will love you as long as you do the right thing and then they turn on you and want you dead. What would you have thought?

I Love Lunch!

This is a weird random song Matthew McCormick inspired with his taco bell song.

I love lunch, its half the way to dinner
I love lunch, if thats a sin then im a sinner!
theres soup to slurp, and chips to chruch,
I LOVE LUNCH!

Ive worked since 9
and now its time
for me to take a break and eat
roasted beef, and fava beans,
on a bed of mixed greens!
I like my chili with corn
i like my sandwhich served warm

That looks delicous, i wish i could eat lunch twice!
We love lunch were gunna sing it louder,
we love lunch, im eating clam choder!
take a break, escape the clock you punch,

we love lunch!

Ninja Granny

It was the year 1955 when Emmi Franklin heard a knock on the door, soon to find out it was the FBI asking about her daughter Betty Sue. She did not know what type of trouble her quiet and shy daughter had gotten into. To her surprise Betty Sue was going to become a member of the FBI. When she got home she explained to her mothers she and a friend had applied and how she got in and her friend did not. Shortly afterwards she left Morganton and moved to Washington, D.C. Things started slowly. She began as a secretary processing fingerprints for Michigan, Illinois, and Maryland. She was only getting to watch from the sidelines. As time passed she became and undercover, secret ninja agent.

Betty Sue became one of the greatest detectives the FBI had ever seen. She had gone to New York City to hear the President speak and to make sure everything was ok. While eating a tuna fish sandwich at an outside corner cafe she noticed everyone in the crowd getting irritated because the President was yet to arrive. He was an hour late. She soon discovered the President had been kidnapped. Since Betty Sue was a great detective she was going to find the kidnappers and make them pay. She did some undercover work and found that her initial instinct had been right, that it was the terrorists. Betty Sue could be very forceful when need be. She found out where the President was being kept. It was going to be hard to get him back but she knew she could because that is the type of woman she was. The kidnappers had let out a little leak of how there were going to escape from the country by boat. Betty Sue was invincible, so she had thought of the perfect strategy.

It was a little past eleven thirty p.m. when she boarded the plane. Once on the plane they hitched her in this new uniform that is like a parachute, but it was a clothes parachute. Shortly afterwards she jumped out of the plane and landed on the boat quietly. One of the kidnappers saw her, but before he had time to do anything he was on the ground. Betty Sue tried not to be seen doing ninja moved or hiding. All by herself she took out the whole boat of thirty men. She then called in FBI reinforcements that were close by to clean up the mess. It turns out the president was not even on the boat in the first place. They were just using the boat as a disguise. These kidnappers made a very bad mistake. In the wheel house they had left the coordinates of where he really was. They had put the president in a cave in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Robbinsville, North Carolina. As fast as Betty could get on a plane, she flew into Asheville, and then they drove to it. She found the president in the back of a cave dressed as a caveman. Betty was known for making the best rice crispy treats ever, anyone who ate one loved them. Knowing this, she had made some just for the president. Also, she knew it would calm him down.

Betty Sue was one of a kind detective, half FBI and half ninja killing machine. Some cultures refer to Betty Sue as the female version of Chuck Norris. She helped her country, people of her country, and the entire free world. She saved the president. Without her he might no have lived through the experience. All this took place in a year's time. This was just one chapter in Betty Sue's life, and she was ready to make more. In 1956, she resigned from the FBI and moved back to Morganton, North Carolina, to get married and start a family. The world will miss the protection that Betty Sue provided, but she has earned a break.. There are still times when she is nowhere to be found and is supposedly out watering the flowers without having her phone on. You have to wonder.

Things that make you say hmm

As I was pondering my life one dark frost bitten night, I noticed that the longer I lie here in the nebulous cave that is my room, my eyes adjusted to the light like us to the world. We have become so self absorbed and have thrived on sin for so long that we have begun to adjust as if we have done nothing wrong. When is the last time you shuttered and gasped at the brusque utterance of a curse word(s) that are littered across television or cringed at the thought of murder. We are adjusting to the darkness just as I sit here, eyes darting around a room once endlessly infinite with incomprehensible shapes now clear. It is depressing that, while I'm confined to this cave, there are multitudes of people willing and wanting to commit atrocities. Although, it is not hopeless. It is my wish that we may be able to correct and fix the cracks in the concrete that has held American society intact for so many years. Time is needed for this to come about, as I pray for those who refuse to even stand for the pledge. Remember, we are the future and the craftsmen who can shape the morality of the next generation.

Fast Food Folk Song at the Taco Bell Drive-Thru!

Last weekend, I saw a new video called Fast Food Folk Song at the Taco Bell Drive-Thru. It is a comic parody of the old McDonald's Drive-Thru raps, where one places your order in rap lyric style. However, in this video, two guys decide to bring back the Folk genre, and they pull up to the drive-thru with a guitar ready to order. The video was so hilarious that I was inspired to write about it today. People say I have too much time on my hands; well, now they're right... I memorized the entire song... :( Well here it goes. (I put 1 and 2 for the two different guys parts)

1: I'll start with a taco, soft like cloud!
2: I want mine crunchy, I like to eat loud!
1: I'll choose a chalupa,
2: I'll grab a gordita,
Both: And two taco salads for our senoritas!
2:And a Burrito Supreme,
1: with extra sour cream!
2: It's a cylindrically shaped, seasoned beef dream!
1: A tequito!
2: An enchirito!
1: Some cinnamon twists!
2: A chicken border bowl!
1: Are you getting all of this?
(slower, with a different beat)
Both: And you know that nothing beats a
MMMMMMMMMMMMEXICAN PIZZA!
2: We'll take two of those,
Both: But please hold the diced tomatoes!
Both: And I admit, I've always felt
Both: Like I'm in love with a Mexi-Melt!
2: Make mine with a little extra love, and think of me...
Both: AS THE CHEESE DROPS FROM YOUR TACO-BELL GLOVE!!
(faster, happy beat)
1: I also want a Double-Decker Taco, 'cause I'm feeling wild! And make my sauce Fire!
2:Uh, he'll take mild...
Both: And we'll take two Mountain Dew Baja blasts for a chance at 25 dollars, cash!
(back to original beat)
1: I'm told there's a winner for every five minutes!
2: But I'm stealing your online code if you win it!
1: Why would you do that?
2: You owe me 25 bones!
1: I owe you 5!
2: Plus interest - it was a loan.
1: Oh.
(guitar changes chords)
Both: And I think we'll be satisfied, if we get some Mexican Rice... on the side.

And that's it.
The funny part is, the guy who was taking the order still got every item they ordered. The total cost was $42.69. And for those of you that didn't know, bones is a nickname for dollar.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9tiAoP1eD8 (<---- I'm pretty sure that's the video... not sure though.)

So.... A Little Fun?



So, the further I get into this new year and all of these "new" situations, the more my taste in music seems to temporarily(Or maybe not, hm...) drift toward alternative dance, and I seem to find myself mouthing lyrics when no one's looking or in the same room and even dancing just a bit to the rhythyms of the music. It's an odd thing, really. I hate to listen to radio music: Mostly because of the blunt annoyance that is people singing along. I mean, lip-singing is okay, but otherwise there's just no sense in it. Typical conversation between me and annoying stepsiblings:
"Hey [insert name], who sings this song?"
"[insert artist], why?"
"LET THEM SING IT!!!"
"You're a *****, shut up."
"If you guys could take what you can dish and respect other people's comfort the way you do your own, we wouldn't have so many problems in this house!"
And it goes downhill from there.

And so I drown the radio out with my headphones. Unfortunately, headphones can only go so loud. So as I found my muscles involuntarily, subconciously moving to dance to Guilty Pleasure this morning, the volume in my headphones was surpassed by the volume of the radio in the van. Needless to say, this irritated me to no end. I kept my mouth shut. But otherwise, I just find myself plugging those little plastic pieces with the magnets in them into my ears at every feasible moment, and I've memorized a massive library of songs. Getting into the happy "Oh, I don't care! I think I'll dance the night away and pass out in the morning!" music is odd, but I find myself liking it. Pretty soon I'll find myself in the middle of a massive hangover caused by sleep-deprivation from listening to too much alternative dance at night, but at least until then I can entertain myself in a variety of different ways and enjoy the beats and the lyrics to these songs that ring so faithfully and true to my life and opinions.

So, here's what I'm thinking: I should learn to dance and sing, dance and sing like a freakin' fool and go into some random karaoke party... I could do children's birthdays, get my own show on Disney channel, do suggestive photoshoots, start angering Disney channel, and assume a blonde alter ego with a stupid-sounding and unrealistic name who can't sing whatsoever, with all of my family members acting in a bad sitcom based on my life that's NOTHING like my real life, playing themselves, and everything can turn out humorous and.... Wait, that's already been done? Crap.

Oh well. Who needs Disney, anyway? I want my 50's Disney back. Before it was "Get pre-teen heartthrob celebrity bands with no talent" and "Retain a positive public image with the kids, and disgust certain high-school males," before the idiocy of a 3-d Mickey Mouse and friends. Let's go back to Der Feuhrer's Face and such works. You guys will have no clue what I'm talking about. But this isn't about you, is it? This is about dancing! And so I think I'm gonna lock myself in a closet and dance for three hours this afternoon.

"An' I don't even read
What the paper's gotta say about me
Y'know I don't believe
They take it so serious... Seriously!
So O-HO! Please! Don't talk anymore!
Shut your mouth and get down on the floor!
So cynical, poor baby...
I can dish it, 'cause I know how to take it!"

who knows???

I don't know where to begin. If were to start from the beginning, how would I be certain that it is the right beginning? Once I decided where to start, how would I end? Does everything have a start and ending? Is every ending a good one? Should it be like the ending's in the movies that you always see where everybody is happy or should it be more realistic where everything doesn't always go as planned? How do we know the answers or will we ever know? Is any of this really necessary?

How do we know what we should and shouldn't do, the difference between right and wrong, or even if we should forgive or be forgiven? How do we ask for forgiveness if we don't even know that we have done wrong? How do we define wrong, because something that I think may be right you may think is wrong.

If we don't even know wrong from right how do we teach others the right way to act? Its like telling a teenager they are doing wrong when we made the same mistakes. But then again should we just put people out in the world to figure out things for themselves?

How will we ever know how to answer these questions?

#1 Blog post EVER. Going to be the awesomest thing ever. Going to blow your mind...

My mind almost imploded a few days ago.

The number one search result on Yahoo was Julian Casablancas.

Fore-front musician of The Strokes.

For years now, absolutely no-one I know has ever heard of The Strokes, one of the best indie

bands ever to come into existence, yet, never heard of until a few album releases, I have only met one other person who doesn't look at me like I'm a complete wack-job when I ramble about
4 Chords of the Apocalypse. Like their tour-counter-parts, The Moldy Peaches remained lo-fi until a major Hollywood plug (cough-Juno-cough). After Julian did a couple commercials, sure a few people liked them, but like Family Guy and the 'Peaches, everyone liked them because they were almost main-stream, no one knows about the old adult swim FG,
just stupid FOX projecting "OMG Its a talking baby! That is sooooo funnnnay!" or heard
Apples, I'm Home or 12/26? solo stuff or anything by Strictly Beats?

But I suppose it will always be that way, just occurring to infuriate us weirdos who liked something before it hit big, before My Rollercoaster was chopped apart, before Something, Something, Something Dark Side, before Ed Hardy corrupted the minds of millions and turned their thoughts into French-print playdough.

All is crap I suppose... it just gives me something to rant about.

Simple Friendship

The best characteristics that define a very good friend is loyalty, humor, a great personality, courage, and also to have the ability to forgive because we all make mistakes. Friendship is also important to a succesful life. When you need a big favor or even a small one, your friends usually there for you, though might complain, but get the favor you asked done. Also, when you are feeling low or a relationship went bad, or even got a bad grade that day, friends can give you great advice and can always boost you up so your day will be so much better.



I have many friends and I have some foes. Sometimes my friends get on my nerves and just won't stop but they are sometimes the only thing I have to turn to so I like to keep them close. But, I like to keep my foes even closer because that way no drama will get started because I do hate drama. Though, sometimesI hear things from my friends that I wish I had never heard and that I wish that never happened. But then it is a thing that you want to talk about most with a certain person, but it's suppose to be a secret that I'm not even really to know about. I just wish those types of things never existed.


So, I just wish that the world would be a happy place and have unicorns in it and fiary god mothers so my wishes and dreams could come true. Also, I just wish that relationships would be perfect to. I just want that one special day with just my boyfriend and I. No one else around but just me and him with no one else existing.

Rubix Cube

On January 9, 2010, I was playing around with my rubix cube. I always get frustrated with it, because I could only solve most of it. So that night I decided I was going to solve it all. I got on the computer and went into YouTube. I found a video and it helped me solve my rubix cube. It took me a while to get the last step, because it had a lot of different combination. After 4 or 5 times, I was finally able to solve the rubix cube. I was ecstatic, but at the same time I was sad. The reason is that I didn't have anything else to solve now. So I hoping I can get another rubix cube. This time I want it to be a 4x4 and 5x5.
I remember in band I saw this two guys, Ben and Scott solving a 6x6 and 7x7 rubix cube. I thought it was pretty awesome and so I looked it up. I found some really interesting rubix cube. I found a virus cube that's going on sell on eBay. There's a video of the virus cube and you see this guy messing with it. Here's a video of it. www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHN1zS1e_wk
For now, I will just be messing around with my 3x3 rubix cube. I know I can't be like those people who can finish a rubix cube under a minute. Next time I'm going to time myself and see how fast I can actually solve my rubix cube.

Morganton Ghost

The blinking red light flashed over the small neighborhood. The radio station was almost done for the day, and as the sun was setting the horses in the pasture nearby lied down. Everyone on Mull Lane was heading inside to get ready for bed. By the horse pastor was an old graveyard, dating back to the late 1800’s, with a beautiful detailed wrought iron fence. Even though the graves were crumbling and some lying in rubble, it still seemed to look nice. The cornfield was empty, the neighborhood was empty, the street nearby even seemed done for the day, but the graveyard, well, not so much.
Young Wendy Pruett hummed as her and her older sister, Holly, said bye to the horses. “Bye Chester, be back tomorrow!” Wendy was a 9 year old red head, with freckles across her nose and an inhaler in pocket. Holly, older than Wendy, had blond hair and braces. As they turned around to leave, the autumn sun was almost behind the tall trees. They passed the cornfield, and came upon the graveyard. The neighborhood kids would often play in the graveyard, due to it’s secluded grassy fields, so they were not afraid to pass through it. As they entered the graveyard as they often did for a shortcut back to their house, Wendy shivered. The fall chill was slowly becoming more and more noticeable. Holly started to hum too, as she walked past headstones.
“What do you think we’ll have for dinner” Wendy asked, bored.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t know.” Holly replied and went back to humming.
They came closer to the front gate, with small iron details making it look spectacular. By this time the sun was behind the trees completely, and it was dark. Since the gate was locked, a hole was dug under the fence a long time ago so the kids could sneak into it.
“You go first,” said Holly, as Wendy slowly crawled under the fence. As she was waiting, Holly looked around. She looked at the many gravestones, eroded with time, scanned over the long field toward the radio- wait, what was that? Holly studied the figure in the graveyard far away. As it got closer she saw that it was an old lady with a white complexion, wearing a white, flowing gown. A visitor perhaps? The white lady was smoothly getting closer and Holly started getting nervous. Why would she be visiting so late? She thought. As the figure got within reasonable distance, Holly saw that this was no ordinary lady, the lady’s long dress showed no sign of feet walking, and she could see right through her!
“GO WENDY!!” she screamed as the white lady got closer.
As Wendy finished climbing under the fence she turned around to see what her sister was so freaked out about. As Wendy looked, her eyes widened. Holly was already halfway out from under the fence, and Wendy screamed. The old woman was about 20 ft. away now, and she smiled as she continued to get closer fast. Holly was all the way out now, and Wendy was already running.
Both girls were screaming as they ran past their friend’s houses and under orange streetlights, and their house came into view. As they got closer Wendy tripped on a rock that was left on the road; well she was the clumsy one. “GET UP! C’MON LETS GO!” Holly said, helping Wendy up and looking back at the glowing woman approaching them.
As Wendy hustled back on her feet, they sprinted onto their front porch. Once they were inside, they slammed the door behind them and ran to the den to look out the window.
“What’s wrong with you two?” their eldest brother, Kelly, asked.
“Look! Look! Look Kelly! It’s after us! Look!” Wendy and Holly scrambled, pointing out of the window.
As Kelly tried to make sense of what they were so worried about, they looked out of the window. Kelly’s face went blank. On the road in front of their house, under the streetlight, there was a transparent woman in a dress, looking around outside. They screamed.
“What is all this noise about? Kelly, you aren’t being mean to your sisters, are you?” their mom said as she walked in the room.
“Mom! Mom! Look! Help, help! She’s after us! Help us! Look mom, look!” the three stammered, as their mom looked at the confused.
“Wait, wait, one at a time” their mom said.
“A ghost is going to get us mom!”
“Yea, it followed them home from the graveyard!”
“The graveyard? What where you two doing in the graveyard?” Granny said angrily.
“We were just walking back from the horses, promise!” Wendy explained.
“Calm down, children. There are no such things as ghosts. And even if there was a “ghost,” why would it follow you back home from the cemetery?” Granny reasoned.
Wendy blushed, and looked down at her feet. “I have no idea, we just walked through!” said Holly.
“What about you, Wendy, do you know why she would follow you two?” granny asked, noticing her blushing.
Without saying a word, Wendy pulled her hand out of her pocket, along with crumpled white flowers.
“Where’d you get those?” Holly asked, getting upset.
“While you were singing I saw a grave with pretty white flowers, and I thought I would pick some for mom.”
The next morning Kelly, Holly, and Wendy all slowly walked to the graveyard with a vase full of white flowers.
“That one!” Wendy said, pointing at a crumbling headstone with white flowers surrounding it.
They placed the vase beside the headstone and turned around to leave. As they were almost out of the gate, Wendy looked back at the gravestone, as the sun was rising over the tall trees.

Brave New World

In English class we have just finished the book Brave New World. The opinion the author had was upsetting, and for his time must have been scary. Believing that the world would come to what he wrote, however; no matter how hard the world may try to hide it, somethings that he had foreseen has come to be true.

Examples of this is: within Morganton The Kite Runner is banned for the school. When less than five years ago it was fine to read. Like Mustapha Mond's job was to ban certain books and make new outrageous laws, the school board is now doing the same things. Models and Television have made an image that they think people should look and act like today. Clothes should be from high designers, hair looks the newest ways, and so many shoes that you can't even remember you had them. Don't mend them throw them away and buy new ones was the saying in Brave New World. This would stand to be another example that Aldous Huxley's for telling is coming to be.

Some of his idea's I agree with; it's going to come. Yet sometimes they are way off and will never happen, or so I hope. Aldous Huxley has one of those weird minds that not many have nor wish to have, but has the ability to make you think, never the less.

Edgard Varèse

The years spanning the end of the nineteenth century and the earliest part of the twentieth century was a time of great expansion and development of the late Romanticism of previous years. It was a time of deepening psychological awareness, especially how the horrors of the first World War brought death and destruction to many people living in Europe at that time. Possibly in reaction to such influences, the impressionistic music of Arnold Schoenberg grew for a time. Experimentation and new systems of writing music were attempted by avan-garde composers like Edgard Varese, and although the public didn't like these new styles, these techniques had an influence on many of the composers who were to follow.

Edgard (or Edgar) Victor Achille Charles Varèse was born in Paris on December 22, 1883 but after only a few weeks was sent to be raised by his great-uncle's family in the small town of Villars in Burgundy. There he developed an intense attachment to his grandfather, Claude Cortot, something that would out do anything his parents ever did for him. In fact, from his earliest years his relationship with his father, Henri, was extremely antagonistic, which made Varèse develop an emotion that could be called a life-long hatred. Reclaimed by his parents in 1893, Varèse was forced to relocate with them to Italy. It was here that he had his first real musical lessons, with the long-time director of Turin's conservatory, Giovanni Bolzoni. Never comfoortable with Italy, and given his oppressive home-life, a physical altercation with his father forced the situation and Varèse left home for Paris, in 1903. After being kicked out of the French Army during World War 1, he moved to New York City in 1915 at the age of 33 with thirty-two dollars in his pocket and settled down in the Greenwich Village. He fell in love with sounds of the city which soon became another one of his inspirations. This is also where he wrote works consisting of dissonant harmonies and complex polyphonies and later took American citizenship in 1926. He worked with electronic sounds and it soon became an obsession. He spent the first few years in the United States meeting important contributors to American music, promoting his vision of new electronic music instruments, conducting orchestras, and founding the New Symphony Orchestra. This is where he met Louise Norton and married her in 1918.

In 1927, Varèse contacted Harvey Fletcher, director of acoustical research of Bell Telephone Laboratories, and tried to set-up a studio for the research of electronic music, but his proposal was turned down. In 1932, he offered to work for Bell in exchange for the use of the studio, even sacrificing his career as a composer to find new electronic sounds. Fletcher agreed this time and during the 1930's, Varèse started a series of works based on the use of electronic instruments.

Varèse returned to Paris in 1933 to alter one of the parts in his composition Amériques to include the recently constructed Ondes Martenot, eventually finding more backing for his electro-acoustic research. He then went back to America, this time to Santa Fe, San Francisco and later on to Los Angeles.
Varèse gained international recognition by the early 1950s, when he came to dialogue with a new generation of composers, such as Boulez and Dallapiccola. He returned to France to finalize the tape sections of Déserts and Pierre Schaeffer helped him. The first performance of the combined orchestral and tape sound composition came as part of an ORTF broadcast concert, between pieces by Mozart and Tchaikovsky, and received a hostile reaction.


Varése was good friend with Debussy who actually encouraged him to be a composer, saying “Rules do not make a work of art. You have the right to compose what you want to, when you want to.” He also encouraged him to look at non-western music for inspiration. Debussy’s encouragement helped Varése encourage other people, like bands of the 80’s. Internet sources say that Varése was a big encouragement to bands like The Beatles, and Pink Floyd. Varèse's music puts an emphasis on timbre and rhythm. He was the inventor of the term "organized sound", encouraging other composers to use this same style of music. His use of new instruments and electronic resources led to his being known as the "Father of Electronic Music" while Henry Miller described him as "The stratospheric Colossus of Sound". Edgard Victor Achille Charles Varése died on November 6, 1965 in New York City, NY and no one ever figured out how he died. Some say he was depressed and that he committed suicide. Varese was a groundbreaking electronic musician and helped introduce the electronic era to the world.


What animal/plant would you like to be?

Have you ever wondered that if you could be any kind of plant/animal, what would you choose? Sometimes the prettiest girl or cutest boy could turn out to be the most terrifying and brutal person you have ever met. If I could be some kind of plant I would choose a rose, and if it's ever possible, an orange rose. As for an animal I would choose to be a blue bird. What would life be like for me?


A rose has unparalleled beauty and is admired by everyone. Sometimes you can't really tell if someone is sincere to you or not. Are his/her feelings for you true or is he just playing around with me? Well, for a rose you can test the true heart of a person. A rose is beautiful but it has thorns. Only the braves t, most sincere, and courageous heart will willingly grab this rose with thorns. A rose is usually a warm gift from the heart from one loved one to another. Being an orange rose will brighten up others' mood and make them feel happier. That way I'll be forever happy and in a warm embrace. A rose will not last forever, but that's how life is so just cherish the time you have.


Now, to be a bird will also be a very enjoyable experience. I've always imagined how it will feel to be flying with the air rushing to your face and feeling as light as a feather. A bird has very sharp eyesight, so I'll be able to see everywhere around me as I glide through the sky or sit on a tree branch. From this point of view I can be closer to the sky and look at the beautiful, clear blue sky in the morning and the starry sky at night. So I may have to overcome my fear of heights first. Yep, I better do that first.


In conclusion, these are the two things that I would consider to be if i could "transform." A mesmerizing yet unreachable orange rose and a free-spirited blue bird. So what would you want to be?


Odd Day at the Beach

It was a different day for Jim. There was something weird going on at the beach. The ocean was ebullient and all the beach goers were fugitive toward the irrepressible sand people. The sand people were attacking everything but Jim knew the the sand peoples foible and that he knew that he had to stop them.
Though Jim knew he needed to stop them he found his feet cemented inn the sand on which he stood. He saw the sand people had begun to aggregate and attack the people who couldn't run for help. His heart was beating faster and he knew this cowardice was more of a flaw than his foible. He started to scream for help , but all of a sudden the lifeguard showed up with a water hose on full blast. This wasn't just any water hose, it didn't need a water source, it was magical; it created water out of thin air! With all the evil sand people obliterated, he stood in a pompous way, as if he knew he would leave a great legacy in the hearts of all the people on the beach that day.
The lifeguard looked back to see tons of people running, he he noticed that one lady was standing off to the side with her head tilted and her arms crossed observing the chaos. The magical water hose swept up the lifeguard ebulliently and took him to the lady.
The woman told him that her name was Madam Fuchs, and she could help him destroy the undersea race of sand people, for a price. After paying the decrepit old woman with four pesos, two pieces of wire and a keychain he bought off EBay, the lifeguard received a pompous spell to make the magical water hose spray Super-Glue . With the first group of sand people dispatched a second wave of soldiers came came and ate the lifeguard and Jim.
Madame Fuchs now lives in a plywood shack, wall-papered with cartoons and she now works weekends as a sideshow in a carnival.

It is ridiculously cold!!!

This is me blogging about my ideals on the stupid weather. It is currently 12 degrees in Morganton, NC, and it is 18 degrees in Jacksonville, Fl. Last night Jacksonville broke the all time low temperature, and a little while ago Morganton got hit with a winter blizzard. Call me crazy, but it isn't exactly getting warmer. What happened to global warming? I'm all for it, if it brings me some warm weather. Obviously, whatever the issue, global warming isn't working right now.

Morganton is now experiencing one of the coldest winters in at least twenty years. Maybe this is due to all of the recycling going on recently; if it is then please stop! I am cold. If I wanted to freeze my but off, I'd move to Alaska, but I don't so North Carolina needs to warm up.

With my new outlook on life, through the weather, I have come to conclude that Global Warming isn't real. I think that the world is just going through it's normal cycles. The world has a better chance of freezing in another ice age, like in
Day After Tomorrow, than to actually heat up from Global Warming. Global Warming is just another scare tactic that the government is using to sidetrack the people from the important things in life.

Don't get me wrong we should respect the earth and go green and all that junk, but personally i wouldn't worry about Global Warming. I mean, according to our society these days, the world is going to end in 2012 anyway. Or is it? If you want to believe the propaganda that is going around about the world and it's environment, then that's your business. All i know is it is cold, and the ice capsules have surely refrozen by now. I am so ready for warmer weather. Bring it on Global Warming!

Language Deterioration

Being from another nationality, I can speak two languages, Hmong and English. When I was younger and lived in California, I grew up speaking Hmong because that is all I ever heard from my parents and relatives, who I spent most of my time with. However, over time when I was about 5 years old, I began to pick up English more and more from my cousins and siblings who were currently enrolled in school. When we moved to North Carolina in 1999, I did not hear Hmong being spoken much anywhere. I believe I began to lose my tongue in it when we finally moved to Glen Alpine in 2001 because that is when I was placed in the AIG program and kind of forced to read difficult literature.

Those days I still spoke Hmong to my parents at home, but because I didn't have much exposure to it, my speaking skills slowly began to deteriorate. Nowadays, I still cannot speak it will since I haven't had much practice and my parents criticize me because I barely speak it. Communicating with my older relatives who barely understand English has been a struggle fro me as I always have trouble finding words to say.

To help overcome this, I hope to begin speaking my native language more whenever I can and listen to older people speak it so I know how to continue on my people's language. However, I believe that won't happen for a long time because, like most of my classmates, my life is consumed by school, band, sports or all of the above.