Just Remember. . .

Curiosity didn't kill the cat. The charred chicken in the trash barrel did.

2005: A Year In Review

If your name is Sydney Bristow, there's no reason to get romantically involved with anyone. They just die tragic deaths and then, you're all alone.

All work and no play makes me a very cranky person. Alternatively, more play and not enough work makes me have lackluster grades and in turn, makes me a very cranky person.

The heart can actually be broken. And it doesn't take some outside force to do the breaking business. The heart can be shattered by its owner, just as easily as it can be broken by someone else.

Tropical storms are not limited to coastal areas. They can travel inland as far as they'd like to travel. They'll do whatever they like, thank you very much.

School sucks. It sucks time. It sucks money. And contrary to what you might think when your parents tell you this, money does not grow on trees.

One should not always listen to their brain. The brain is often selfish, thinking only of himself. This is why the brain and the heart sometimes do not see eye to eye. If your heart is telling you one thing, but your brain is telling you another, listen to your heart. The brain has ulterior motives.

Don't overthink things. The simplest explanation is often the right one. Ockham's Razor or whatnot.

Blogs can be a major waste of time. I've accumulated over 150 posts this year.

That Junk In Your Badonkadonk

The country radio airwaves are being bombarded with a little song known as Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk. For whatever reason, a fellow by the name of Trace Adkins decided that he should write up this little ditty and sing it to the world.

Thanks, Trace. You're a real pal.

This song is so horrible. Why is this song so horrible? Let me count the ways....

1. It's called Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk!! Badonkadonk is not a word. I realize that it is often used in Rap and Hip/Hop music, but that does not make it a word. I'm tired of all these new songs with titles of nonsense! What is this? Alice in freakin' Wonderland??

That honkey tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong

2. Got it goin' on / Like Donkey Kong??? Excuse me, but what the hell? When did Donkey Kong ever have it going on? I mean, really? I was never all that thrilled with Donkey Kong. I don't think Donkey Kong has anything going on. You don't see his face plastered all over tabloids. You don't know every move he's making in the world. You don't know the last 25 things he's eaten this year.

Is he saying that her ass is as large as a gorilla's? Because if that's the case, someone needs to slap him. If someone came up to me and told me I had the ass of a cartoon gorilla, I think I'd be offended. No, I would totally be insulted. And then, I would dropkick that someone into the next millenia.

And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma

3. Slap your grandma?? Excuse me, but what the hell (again)? There's no reason to be slapping anyone's grandma. Just because you saw some gorilla-sized ass on some girl does not give you the right to go around slapping little old ladies. That's just rude and unnecessary. I don't even understand why he had to include that line in the song.

I don't understand why stupid songs have to be played repeatedly on the radio. Or why there's a commercial after every single song. It's ridiculous. Ludicrous. Absolutely horrendous.

I need a freakin' satellite radio. Oh, Santa... ? ?

Merry Crossmas?

Why do some people insist on shortening Merry Christmas to Merry Xmas?

It really doesn't make sense to shorten Christmas to Xmas. Generally, when you see X used as some form of abbreviation, it's used in road signs. You know... signs that read Deer Crossing, Railroad Crossing, or any other signs that deal with something Crossing are usually shown as Deer Xing, Railroad Xing, or Blah-blah-blah Xing.

One would deduce that X would stand for Cross. Therefore, Merry Xmas would actually be Merry Crossmas.

And yes, I do realize that using X on road signs is more efficient, from an economic standpoint. But with Christmas? I don't think X has any business being in the same vicinity as Christ.

Anyway, instead of writing out the name Jesus or Christ in The Bible, it would make more sense (and save more ink!) to simply substitute His name with an X. The shortest verse in The Bible would be even shorter.

Instead of "Jesus wept," the verse would read "X wept."

I Hate....

I hate the Black Eyed Peas.

Not the vegetable, which I very much enjoy. But I hate the musical group with the fiery passion of ten thousand suns. I really believe that the group should burn in Hell for creating a song like My Humps.

My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.....

It is the most ridiculous song, tied for first place with Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl, which, by the way, I still do not understand. What is a "Hollaback Girl" ?? And why must there be a song about not being one?

Anyhow. I can't even begin to fully explain my absolute hatred of the Black Eyed Peas. Who writes a song with lyrics like that? There's little kids around the world singing those awful lyrics. Half of these children don't even know what they're singing! It's a disgrace.

It's just horrendous.

* * *

I hate those crinkled-wrinkled clothes that are "in" at the moment. Ever heard of an iron, people??

Why would anyone pay for clothing that is already wrinkled? I don't understand it. I also don't understand how people can spend money on jeans and other clothing that look as though they've been worn a million times when, in fact, they're brand spanking new! It's ludicrous.

I mean, if I wanted to wear a wrinkled shirt, I'd take a page out of my sister's book. She throws all of her clothes on the floor of her bedroom (yes, all of them -- she does not discriminate). Then, she walks over them for several days until she decides to wear one of the haphazardly thrown articles of clothing. She puts on the clothing... and voila! Wrinkled, crinkled, and fashionably messy without paying the extra money for already wrinkled clothing.

The Horror of Finals

Just finished my first final of the semester. Most likely, I just failed my first final of the semester.

This was mostly due to the fact that I didn't study the diagrams over consonants and vowels. I do not know why I did not study them. But even if I had studied them, I still don't think I would have remembered everything on the diagrams. They were pretty info-packed diagrams.

This week is the perfect ending to the worst semester of my college career. Yippee freakin' skippy hooray.

Susie Got Ran Over By A Big Deer....

The tragic day has finally come to pass.

I was in a car that was run over by a deer.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're probably saying to yourself, "Oh, this loser hit a deer. Wah wah wah, move on with your life already."

And you'd be right. IF I had hit the deer.

But I didn't. The vehicle I was riding in was stopped. And the deer of gigantic proportions bounded out of nowhere and ran smack into us. And a small, not-moving vehicle named Susie was horrifically scarred for life on Saturday night.

Darn deer left a nasty indention and cracked Susie's glasses. And then, he ran off without so much as a "Hey, I'm sorry I just galloped into you for no apparent reason!" Or a "I'm sorry you'll have to get reconstructive surgery because I was bounding home intoxicated."

It was very rude. And unnecessary.

And I'm sure this deer is out there in the forest somewhere, telling all his deer friends how some car came out of the wild blue yonder and nearly knocked him over. They're probably calculating their next move, strategizing some plan of vigilante forest justice.

Well, listen here, Mr. Deer & Co., there will be none of that business. You should be thankful that Susie wasn't armed that night. You should be thankful that you're not mounted on someone's wall. You should be thankful that you're not jerky.

So there.