Follow by Email

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

What if...I KILL YOU FIRST?!

So I notice that my blog entitled "Where's My Xylophone?!" has been getting a lot of hits this week. Is it because there's a picture of a killer T cell? And it's getting down to finals, and you all need to know what a killer T cell looks like? Well, there you go. That's a picture of a killer T cell. I'm very glad I could provide you with such an image. Because, as everyone knows, it IS my image. I took the picture. I TOOK IT. I DID.

I had to do a chemistry presentation today, and I used a clip of MacGyver to demonstrate his awesome ability to get out of sticky situations. I don't think anyone cared. I act like a total fool when I give presentations.

Thursday, April 21, 2011


Is anyone sick of me not having pictures on here? I am. It's boring. It's all just text. Like a text-adventure game. Did you ever play those? Good.

I have a chemistry presentation that I'm supposed to do on Tuesday morning. It's amazing how much you can learn (mostly in the research process) when you're asked to teach the class about something. The presentation is about precipitates, as well as acid-base reactions, and I've decided to throw in a MacGyver clip. It's gonna be epic. And don't you forget it.

Windows Live Spaces deleted my old blog, which was entitled Love's Blog. It made me kinda mad, since it was full of so many hilarious entries from high school days, such as the time I was describing, in detail, the sound of my dog licking his privates. And who can forget the time that I had the flu after downing that energy drink at work, and I thought I was gonna die. Ahh, the good ol days!

I have to go get ready for school now, so I can be an effective product of the system.

Random Question from LiveJournal

Available: 3 bedroom, 2 bath, with and cold running chills:
Would you live in the perfect house or apartment rent-free if you found out a brutal murder had taken place there and it was rumored to be haunted? Why or why not?

My answer:
It's a trick question. YOU committed the murder. And your guilt consumes you. Even rent-free can't erase those feelings from your soul. 

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Just for kicks, I attended a Senior English Capstone lecture today, entitled Facebook: The Status Quo of Identity Perception. It was purely electrifying. I don't know why. I've had this interest lately in the popularity of Facebook, why it has made it to where it is, you know, the whole sociology of it. Nothing has ever had such an impact on digital media as Facebook. Absolutely nothing. It is the most revolutionary communication medium of our age. The statistic (from last year, mind you) was that 1 out of every 12 people on the planet has a Facebook account, and membership grows by almost three-quarters of a million people each day. What is even more fascinating is the demography aspect of it. The stereotype has long been that only the young people know how to operate computers or the latest digital programs. From 2008-2009, the percentage of people ages 55 and over who use Facebook increased by nearly 200%. There is something about community and personal expression that is common to everyone, both young and old apparently. Facebook is a good indicator of that.

While I don't know whether to label Facebook as "good" or "bad" (since there are plenty of reasons it can be both), one way I think it can be described is "controlling." Make of that what you will, but I felt it. Pretty soon, anybody who doesn't have a Facebook account will be looked upon as a complete outsider.

Also interesting from the lecture was the concept of Facebook language, most notably the "friending" aspect. I am, strangely enough, not actually friends with roughly 75% of the "friends" on my list. It's like the very meaning of the word "friend" has been changed, and it seems like we're all totally oblivious to it. What the heck else are we oblivious to right now? 

Monday, April 18, 2011

Vehicular Anthropomorphism

I realized, as I was driving, that I grant a bit of anthropomorphism to other cars on the road, for example, that other signaling before trying to move over in front of me is like their car saying "please." I laughed to myself upon thinking this, for it is, indeed, quite silly. Then some idiot tried to move over without signalling, and I was like, "WHOA BUDDY! You're not getting over if you don't want to signal!" And then I proceeded to speed up and block his opportunity to move over. Am I just a jerk or what?

See? It's just manners, right?

Also, cars look like they have faces.

Monday, April 11, 2011

The End

This was my first attempt at trying to write a story without any conflict (just to see if it could be done), but I utterly failed. 

THE END, by H. Green

Once upon a time, in a land dotted with dots and sprinkled with pudding, there was a man. Actually, there were lots of men. They were intermixed with various humans of the “female” gender, and oftentimes, they would get together and make babies, in an effort to perpetuate the species, as well as show their love for each other.

“Look at those dots, son,” said one particular loving father to his son, Fred. “Look at those dots dotting the landscape.” And his waving hand swept the horizon, as Fred looked on in awe.

But what else could a dotted land be dotted with besides dots? It was true. There was nothing.

On one particular day, a gentleman by the name of Father Harris sat at the dinner table with his young family and his wife, who donned a bonnet and roughly nine layers of clothing that helped to insulate heat in the dead of summer.

“So kids, what did you learn at school today? We’ll start with you Cathryn,” he said, motioning to his oldest daughter, who was seated next to him. He was a very fatherly figure, and his motioning actions, which he engaged in quite frequently, were very authoritative, as only a father figure could do.

“I learned about mitosis,” she said. It was an obvious lie.

“What an obvious lie,” responded Harris, with fatherly rage in his eyes. “No one learns about mitosis in one day. How dare you lie to me. Go to your room!”

“Wah!” Cathryn cried, and she fled from the dinner table in tears.

The other children were deathly silent.

“Now,” continued Father Harris. “What did you learn Matthew?” And he motioned to Matthew, who was slightly younger than Cathryn. He was a very clean cut boy, and he wore a straw hat, jeans, and suspenders, as any 14-year-old boy would.

“I learned how to solve a linear equation,” he said.

“Well done, Matthew, my favorite child. Well done,” said Father Harris, with that reassuring fatherly love in his eyes. And he ruffled Matthew’s hair, which was relatively difficult, since he was wearing a straw hat. After struggling with this obstacle for a few seconds, Father Harris removed his son’s straw hat, and then ruffled his hair. It stood firmly ruffled, with bits of Ruffles potato chips scattered here and there.

“What about you, Samuel?” he asked, motioning to the next son, who was 10.

“I learned that you should never talk to strangers,” he said, completely and utterly sincere.

“Really Samuel?” asked Father Harris. “Really? Do you really think that’s an effective method for succeeding in life? How you have failed me constantly. Go to your room!” His voice rumbled and shook the house. It was incredible how he could go from so loving to so enraged in just a matter of seconds.

“Wah!” cried Samuel, and he fled from the table in tears.

This ritual was not uncommon in the Harris household. In fact, it happened every single night.

Mother Harris, who was old, wrinkly, and probably about 30 years older than Father Harris, gingerly nibbled her dinner. What was remarkable, absolutely remarkable, was that the food she was nibbling gingerly was actually ginger. She laughed to herself upon thinking this.

There was only one child left besides Matthew, the favorite child. It was Lucy, the youngest. She was almost six years old. It came down to this pivotal moment.

“And what about you, child?” asked Father Harris, having forgotten her name. “What did you learn at school?”

Lucy was silent for several seconds. The tension built to a fevered pitch. Matthew, Father Harris, and Mother Harris, stared at her, waiting for the answer. Then she spoke.

“I wish…that YOU WOULD HAVE A HEART!” she cried. Then she realized that her answer didn’t make any sense in relation to her father’s question. But it didn’t matter. Not this time.

“No!” cried Father Harris. “No! Not now! How could you! Arggh!!!” He clutched at his chest in agony. “My chest! It hurts! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!”

He screamed for several more seconds, then he exploded.

Flesh and blood flew everywhere, splattering the walls, splattering the faces of his family, splattering the face of his dog, Max. It was just a mess. One big nasty bloody mess.

After all the commotion of exploding, his children began coming out of their hiding places. First came Cathryn. Then came Samuel. They stood in awe and wonder at the scene. Angels began to sing, very distantly.

Then something stirred in the mess. It was Father Harris. But it wasn’t the exploded dismembered Father Harris. It was the real Father Harris. “My children…” he said, groping blindly about, as he was covered in flesh and blood. Only it wasn’t his flesh and blood. It was the flesh and blood of the fake Father Harris that had kept the real Father Harris locked up in his stomach for 10 long years. Finally, the children would know their one true father.

“Father!” they cried, and they all ran to him and embraced him. It was a heart-wrenching scene. Children united with their father. A father reunited with his children.

Then he turned and looked at Mother Harris, who stood, nodding in approval.

“Hello wife,” he said, with a smile.

“Hello Father Harris!” she cried, and she ran and leapt into his arms. And they made out for three hours, and made their kids watch. It truly was…the end!


Discussion questions (to be discussed as a loving family unit):

1) Ruffles potato chips? Are you serious? Did they even have those around back then?
2) What the heck is with Matthew? Do you have a sibling that's favorited by your parents? Does it make you mad? Have you ever tried to murder this sibling? Explain.
3) What time period IS this exactly?
4) Explain how we, as humans, tend to do things, sometimes, that cause certain events to happen.
5) Did you think the first time you read this story that Mother Harris was actually Father Harris's mother? You're sick. Explain.

Monday, April 4, 2011

One of those Numbered Lists that are Cool

1) I've been trying to hone my foosball skills at work. I currently have 5 wins and 6 losses against Felippe. He's just too dang good.

2) I took a chemistry test today. I think I did okay. Better than my last one. It was all about energy and heat and enthalpy and photons and electron configurations and garbage like that.

3) What sort of evolutionary adaptations will humankind develop in the next million years, if we're still around in the next million years? Will we grow wings? Will we grow exoskeletons, and shed them every month? Will we grow flippers and gills, and migrate back to water? Will we grow spider fangs, and be able to bite things and inject paralyzing venom? Will the process actually reverse from this point? Will we develop mitochondria and turn into plants? Or are we the end of the evolutionary process? Does it get any more complex than a human being? Can it? I just asked you 10 questions.

4) "There you have it. You can't fight love. It's the most powerful of all emotions."-- Detective from The Wrong Guy

5) "Woof," said Juno the dog.

6) Dave Barry once said that if he ran for president, one of his actions would be approving the death penalty for everything, including zoning violations, and whoever is responsible for putting Jerry Springer on TV.

7) "My dear Sam!"-- Frodo Baggins

8) What does everyone think about Libya? Pretty weird. I don't know if we should be there.

9) What does everyone think about soda crackers? Pretty weird. I don't know why anyone eats them.

10) If you are ever chosen to do a biology research project, and I am in your class, please don't choose me to be your lab partner. I will do a terrible job, especially if you get to pick the research topic, and you pick something incredibly lame like "The Germination Rates of Pea Seeds In Various Salinities". I'm just warning you. You will be completely on your own.

11) I went to the Red Cliffs Desert Reserve Visitors' Center today, just for kicks. I mentioned to the girl at the front desk how I didn't know that spiders shed their skins (as one of the displays said), and she just kinda looked at me. For about five whole seconds. Just sat and looked at me. I was expecting some sort of stimulating conversation to follow, but BOY WAS I WRONG. HEH HEH! The moral of this story: Don't talk to anyone. You know how you're told as a child not to talk to strangers? This is the reason. Not because they might hurt you, or give you poison candy, or ask you if you want some "ice cream." No. It's because awkward moments like these ensue, which make you not desirous to talk to anyone else, and then you just become a jerk because you don't ever talk to anyone. And jerks are the biggest threat to society. Face the facts Fred. If that is your real name!

12) The end.