finale

I am tasked with writing my final blog with a prompt of my choice. However, for this particular blog, I am yet to decide on a subject. In lieu of one thing in particular, I will instead make several observations about this classroom. Zach Dabb is wearing a grey shirt. It says BELIEVE. I do not yet know what he is believing in. He is also rocking a pretty fly chain. This can be referred to as a chain (as seen by my original statement) or simply as ice. This kid named John (alias Jay-Z) rocks some pretty solid ice. You may be fooled into thinking he is wearing a spot of frozen water on his outfit, but I assure you, it is simply an assortment of gold chains. Jay-Z was in detention with Zach Rogers yesterday. He and his other freshman friends were discussing their wild freshmen parties. If you are in their inner circle, you know these as freshman Rage-O-Rama. I bet those are pretty wild, right? Half of our class is wearing white. This is because it is white-out day. This is the first time theme week has featured a white out day. My what a silly theme that was. Just wear white. Ok? If nothing else, we all appear to be white supremacists, which, as you would imagine is quite an issue. Nate’s Netflix crew is ridiculously long, which is why he is yet to watch American Beauty. This is most unfortunate, as it is a very interesting movie, and I’m sure he would appreciate it. Perhaps it is time for him to just go to9 family video and rent it, eh? Eh is a term usually attributed to Canadians. These Canadians infiltrate America through our malls. They are terrible drivers and have no fashion sense. Go away.

forizzle

In today’s world, there seems to be a peculiar lack of creativity. No place is this more evident than in the American food industry. It seems as though any fool can prepare a bland, tasteless meal, completely lacking in any culinary insight and with more calories than flavor, and sell it successfully in the United States. I find this to be a horrid abomination to the way of life people are meant to live. Human beings have been blessed with creativity for a reason: to use it! The issue here is that we are doing just the opposite of that when it comes to our food. Nowadays, all one must do to make an acceptable meal is to throw some meat on a plate and call it a day. It’s disgusting! However, I am happy to announce that there seems to be hope on the horizon. One classic food is making a big comeback, and adding some variety to the American plate. That dish is, of course, nachos. That’s right folks, I said nachos. What is so special about nachos you may ask? Well the answer to that is quite simple. The secret behind why nachos are so fantastic lies in their sheer versatility! Think about that for a moment. You can put quite literally anything on nachos and consider them acceptable. You may find this quite hypocritical, as I was just ranting about some of the poor things that can be passed off as food, but there is a distinct difference here. Nachos bring out the creativity and individuality in people. There is an unlimited list of toppings for nachos, making no two servings exactly the same. Nachos display the personality of the chef who is responsible for making them. They are the creative spark that the food industry needs to revamp their tastes, so stay hungry fellow americans.

Chad Henne Rules!

Miami. What an awful, awful, terrible, despicable, horrible, substandard, mediocre, unacceptable, crappy, cruddy, crummy, classless, deficient, beastly, dissatisfactory, dreadful, erroneous, poor, raunchy, incorrect, godawful, grungy, icky, ugly, poor, inadequet, fallacious, faulty, lame, scary, rough, damaging, dangerous, deleterious, detrimental, hurtful, injurious, ruinous, unhealthy, base, corrupt, criminal, delinquent, evil, iniquitous, mean, reprobate, sinful, vicious, vile, villainous, wicked, wrong, disobedient, ill-behaved, misbehaving, naughty, unruly, wrong, moldy, off, putrid, rancid, rotten, sour, spoiled, disastrous, distressing, grave, harsh, intense, painful, serious, terrible, ailing, diseased, ill, in pain, unwell, adverse, disagreeable, discouraged, discouraging, displeasing, distressed, gloomy, grim, melancholy, troubled, troubling, unfavorable, unfortunate, unhappy, unpleasant ,  brainless, dazed, deficient, dense, dim, doltish, dopey, dull, dumb, dummy, foolish, futile, gullible, half-baked, half-witted, idiotic, ill-advised, imbecilic, inane, indiscreet, insensate, irrelevant, laughable, loser, ludicrous, meaningless, mindless, moronic, naive, nonsensical, obtuse, out to lunch, pointless, puerile, rash, senseless, shortsighted, simple, simpleminded, slow, sluggish, stolid, stupefied, thick, thick-headed, trivial, unintelligent, unthinking, witless, batty, campy, crazy, daffy, dippy, flaky, fooling around, foolish, for grins, freaky, gagged up, goofy, idiotic, illogical, inane, incongruous, irrational, jokey, joshing, laughable, loony, ludicrous, nonsensical, nutty, off the wall, preposterous, sappy, screwy, silly, stupid, tomfool, unreasonable, wacky, absurd, cretinous, daft, foolish, half-witted, idiotic, inane, moronic, silly, sophomoric, characterless, colorless, common, conventional, decent, dull, fair, fair to middling, fairish, humdrum, indifferent, inferior, insignificant, intermediate, mainstream, mean, medium, middling, moderate, no great shakes, of poor quality, ordinary, passable, pedestrian, run-of-the-mill, second-rate, so-so, standard, tolerable, undistinguished, unexceptional, uninspired, vanilla, boilerplate, common, commonplace, customary, dime a dozen, everyday, fair, fair to middling, familiar, garden, garden-variety, general, humdrum, intermediate, mainstream, mediocre, medium, middle of the road, middling, moderate, nowhere, ordinary, passable, plastic, regular, run of the mill, so-so, standard, tolerable, undistinguished, unexceptional, usual city that is! Carlos Dansby is a mediocre punk, who doesn’t understand that his team sucks, and is yet to realize that an excessive celebration after one good play is not going to reincarnate the dolphin’s hopes of making it into the playoffs.

poem

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

I like this poem quite a bit. The reason for this is because it was quite humorous. It draws attention to the fact that people are becoming more and more uptight. This is an issue that affects many people, probably you, personally. It Also draws attention to the hypocrisy of most uptight people, as they celebrate Christmas in the traditional sense, but if they were to apply the same logic to Christmas as they do to everything else, this would be the result. I think it is important for people to remember not to take things so seriously, which is the message that this poem tries to display. Perhaps if more people read this poem, they would realize the error of their ways and relax a little bit.

Beauty: Not the dallas cowboys

What is beauty? Quite a valid question if you ask me! Beauty can be quite a few things. This week’s blog prompts are not beauty. They were incredibly trite and boring. Buju Banton, on the other hand, can be described as beauty. His musical flow is absolutely unparalleled, and his rhythm is impeccable. He is a musical genius, and for this reason, I consider him beauty. Flash games are also beauty. They are incredibly simple in concept and design, but for one reason or another, they are near impossible to stop playing. Some popular titles include truck loader, the world’s hardest game, the impossible game, and balloon tower defense. With names as creative and original as these, how could I even consider not categorizing them as gravity? Zach Rogers’ blogs are also beauty. They are quite straight forward and to the point. They usually have nothing to do with the blog prompt which they are intended to answer, but that is ok with me. These blogs usually turn out to be hilarious.  One more flash game: kids vs. ice-cream. That is awesome. But anyways, Zach’s blogs are definitely beautiful if you ask me, but you should probably read a few and find out for yourself. Michael Vick is also beauty. Over the past few weeks of the NFL season he has averaged over twenty five points per game for fantasy owners. If his passing accuracy isn’t enough to catch your eye, you should watch him run! His elusive style of play makes him a major threat to any team he faces. He also fought dogs. You have to admit, that is pretty awesome. Come on people, lighten up! They were just pitbulls. Pitbulls are mean! Nobody wants a pitbull! Am I wrong?! That’s what I thought. So anyways, Michael Vick is beauty.

writing

What have I learned about myself as a writer since I joined this class? Truth be told, I haven’t learned a whole lot. There are a number of reasons for this. I think the most glaring reason for this would be the fact that I have not taken any blogs and/or writing assignments seriously since the very first day of class. I usually post a very cynical or conical response to the blog prompt we are given. They are usually insulting to one group or another. This is intentional, because insulting people is funny. I would like to take this time to insult the people going on the senior trip in the spring. It’s four hundred dollars. You’re going to college in three months. You get three hours of early morning beach time. You get twenty hours of random shopping time. You do the math. (Just kidding, I’m only hating because I can’t afford to go. Have fun guys.) This, for me, is what the writing process is; Making fun of foolish people. Just think of something you perceive as foolish, and make fun of it. I like to write about puppies. This is because puppies are adorable, and also kind of foolish. Perfect, right?  This class has had a massive impact on my meathod of writing. It has turned me into a sarcastic, overly critical jerk. That’s the truth fools! You wanna turn into a jerk, make fun of people, and write funny articles? Then come on down to Mr. Currin’s fourth block online publishing class, where we make everyone feel stupid. Mr. Currin is a model, and Mrs. Gramza likes to use profanity. Mr. Currin is a hipster, because he has an unconventional beard. How cool. Oh lord, I lost the purpose. I love nachos.

Gnome

So, let’s say one day you happen to be walking in your back yard, and your neighbor’s garden gnome approaches you. I can only imagine my initial reaction would be to say something along the lines of “Far out, a talking gnome. What’s good homie?” His retort would probably be something along the lines of “Not much dawg. Wanna buy some crack?” I, being a non-crack-smoking individual would proceed to walk away from this talking gnome, and approach the next talking gnome. I’d most likely say something cool like “Oh sweet, another talking garden gnome!” He, of course would have a joyous reaction upon realizing I spoke his gnome language which we call English, and shout “Right on! Let’s play some kickball!” I’d be like “Cool Gnome, you can chill with me whenever you want!” and he’d be like “word!” Then we would proceed to playing a very passionate game of kickball. It will be the best game of kickball either of us has ever played, and we’ll play kickball for hours on end in our talking-gnome-kickball-happy world. After that, the gnome and I will roll over to the local meadow, and frolic in the flowers until we can frolic no more. Next, we would probably breakdance to our heart’s content. After that, we would assemble a group of our more musically inclined friends and go sit atop a hill. We wouldn’t actually play our instruments at all, we would just sit there and look creative. Then, Gnome would take up his bass guitar and shout over to us “Hey guys, watch this! When I hold this bass guitar to my chin, it becomes an epic beard!” And he will bring peace to our happy world with music from his magical beard.

games

Most are unaware of this fact, but I was born a poor child. This story may appear to start similar to that of Steve Martin in The Jerk, but I assure you, the two tales are vastly different. Truth be told, that is one of my favorite movies, but it has no parallels to my own life story. No, my story is far more sophisticated. I was orphaned at a very young age, and forced to live on the streets. Living in such harsh conditions, lead my friends and I to develop a sort of bitter sense of humor. Given this, we came up with some of the most mentally, emotionally, and physically demanding games known to man. One such game was called bum tag. The rules were simple, find a bum, grab his stash of money, and run. Then run some more, and keep running even still. The victor you may ask? It was of course the one who could run through the most traffic, the bum still in pursuit, and manage not to get hit by a car. This may seem simple to you, but it was much more complex to us. Different levels of traffic amounted to different points, the most points being awarded to thruway sprinters. Points were also awarded if you were hit by a car and unable to consider your dash to freedom. However, major bonus points were awarded to the brave souls who were hit, stood up, and continued to run from the pursuing homeless gentleman. Points also were awarded if you escaped from multiple bums chasing you at the same time. This game would come to a rapid conclusion if you or one of your friends was captured and taken to bum jail, a phrase meaning being assaulted in any way by a pursuing bum in an alley. This was a most unfortunate occurrence.

television: another toy that helped destroy an elder race of man

As a young lad, I spent a good deal of time watching television. One network stood out above all the rest as having a good amount of quality programming to satisfy my viewing pleasure. The network I am speaking of is, of course, Nickelodeon. The best part of this channel was obviously the cartoons that filled the days of my happy youth with oh so much laughter. Those were happy days, glorious days. They were better times. That was before everything changed. It’s been eight hundred ninety two days since this hell war started, and none of us have been the same since. No more silly television for us. The toys and clever rhymes that filled the days of my youth have been replaced with hand grenades and barbed wire! I’ve been forced to exchange my teddy bear for a rifle in an effort to save the mother land. The sad part is, most of my comrades, myself included would have it no other was, as it is an honor to stand against the fascist invaders. But anyways, I really used to enjoy shows like Hey Arnold!, as they depicted situations relevant to my youth, such as  my friends head that was shaped like a football, and my senile grandmother who helped me free an old turtle from the aquarium. It is always nice to have a show that I could relate to, to help remind me that no matter how much graffiti that old turtle had on it, it was never too late to set it free. I thank Hey Arnold every day for teaching me such a valuable lesson. See, that is the truly great thing about television, it teaches such positive values and morals, whether we knew it or not. TV really set a solid foundation for my youth.

art: not the dallas cowboys.

Art. What is it? What is art? Art is what? What can qualify as art? What has characteristics attributed to art? What are the characteristics attributed to art? What are things that are art-like? What are art-like things? What makes these things art-like? How can one distinguish something that is art from something that is not art? What things indicate that something is art, as compared to things that indicate something is not art? What must one learn to look for in order to determine if something is art? What must someone learn to look for to determine if something is not art? Is art things that are cool? Is art things that are lame? Is art definable? How does one determine if art is definable? Is this blog total bs? Will I get a bad grade on this? Probably not. But to answer the previously posed questions, I have no idea. I don’t take art classes. Why is this you may ask? Because I don’t care about art. I find it to be a particularly dry subject, and hence one I do not excel in. How then, can I possibly write a blog on what art is? Well if you ask me (not that you did) I would say I’m doing a pretty good job. I would consider Michael Vick art. This is mainly due to the fact that he accounted for three touchdowns yesterday against the Houston Texans. Also, I started him on my fantasy team, which makes me happy. 28 points later, it would appear as though I have quite the edge on my competition. I trust that Michael will continue to be a playmaker for my fantasy team as I enter the playoffs. This fact also makes me quite happy. I think that’s what art is, stuff that makes you happy.

step off yo!

Tiger style!

So this one day, me and my homie Rizza were kickin it straight up funky fresh, when we heard a knock on the door. What did we see when we answered the door you may ask? It was some thugs looking to get their hands all up in our cash. My first instinct was to introduce them to my cold steel, but I was hit with a right hook before I could get my gat out. Rizza however was a little faster, and was able to dust a few off before being knocked unconscious himself. The thugs raided our crib, taking everything they could get their hands on. After they departed our humble abode, we got straight to planning our revenge. Me and Rizza called up our crew and hopped in our whips. We rolled up to them foo’s casa and shot the joint up so heavy they were running out the back door. We had Antoine cut them off and throw em in the back of the truck. We were able to capture a private jet, and used it to transport them thugs to India. We took em out into the jungle and met up with a few of my tiger homies. They were so surprised to see us, as indicated by the photo above. So our tiger homies stomped up to them thugs and tor them to pieces. It was pretty cool I guess. Then, for the rest of the summer, we just chilled out and partied in India. It was a straight up fiesta with tigers and elephants and money and ladies and such. India parties rule.