This is insane.

So I just discovered that I can update this blog via email. Who knew? YOU!?!? Why didn't you tell me then?

Anyway.

This weekend was cool. I got to see a barbershop quartet exhibition, which was awesome.

Heh. My teacher just posted "puberty on" on the screen, like it's activated through a switch.

Anyway.

Yeah, the quartets were awesome. This years international barbershop quartet competition champions, who go by the name "Old School", were absolutely amazing. All of the groups were, but they stood out a bit more. The audience was interesting. Other than me and The Oy, the audience consisted of Caucasian people over 60 years of age. Seriously though, the only black person I saw there was performing in one of the groups, as was the only hispanic person. I guess it's probably because of the older nature of this style of song, but whatever. I like it. Bite me.

--
Jimmy Hornsby

I Hate Awkward Stairs

You guys know what I really hate?

Yeah, you folks who read titles feel smart now, eh?

Awkward Stairs. Not awkward stares, because I am guilty of those, but awkward stairs are just completely inexcusable. You know, the ones that are just barely too long for regularly scheduled steps? They must hate average sized people. Tall people will be all "yeah, I can do this in one step with my super long legs," and short people will be all "alright, I guess I'll take two steps per stair because my legs are 'fun-sized'." But us regular length people hate these stairs. They're such an awkward length that they can't be done in one step, but to do them in two step requires baby steps, so you end up taking awkward one-and-a-half-steps trying to not look like a disabled person who can't handle stairs.

I'm sitting right next to them. In fact, I sit right next to them in four out of my six college classes. I always try to show up earlier than everyone else just to keep people from seeing me try to go down them normally. I'm pretty sure that all of my classmates will judge me and my soul because of how I handle awkward steps. I know they don't, but it certainly feels like they do...

The ending of this post will be awkward as well.

Not that anyone has ever even bothered to read these posts, but if you do, you should probably know that im a little strange. I like various things, including, but not limited to, art, videogames, pick-up sports, and learning. On the note of the variety of things that amuse me, I found some shows on Hulu that are extremely interesting. One is called Misfits, and it's about some people that are on probation and have to do community service. They get struck by lightning pretty early in the first episode, and things get strange from there. If you're into superheroes and the like, then it'll be great for you. The other is called The Booth at the End, and its about this man who is a messenger for opportunity. It starts off really strange, but trust me, it's well worth it. Misfits is occasionally NSFW, and when it is, it goes all the way. No pun intended. The Booth at the End is completely safe, nothing inappropriate. Yet.

Anyway, I'm going to go finish catching up on The Booth at the End, so I guess goodbye?

Not that there's anyone to say goodbye to, but whatever...

Man, I must be crazy.

Just an idea, if you've read any of my stuff, could you comment? just so i know if anyone's actually reading this stuff. I don't expect anyone to be there, but if you are, ust let me know what you think. Is it good? is it boring? Is it what you imagine the burning insides of a T-Rex smell like?

Who Knew Windows Could Be So Dangerous?

I discovered a post that I never finished. This tends to be my issue with everything. I can start it just fine, but I won't necessarily stick to it. Lets change that. I'll see about finishing that post, but being as how I dont have any followers, I'm not sure if I will. Heck, why am I even bothering to do this? Who knows. Probably some sort of psychological conclusion to be drawn from this. Ehh. Who cares?

Any way, I realized that I have some fun stories to tell, so maybe i'll do that here... Let's start with my main source of amusement: my little bro, who I endearingly call Midget. That's only because once upon a time he was much shorter than me, but now, in the eighth grade, he's like 5' 7" or something. Actually, now that I think of it, I may offend anyone who happens to read this with the term 'midget', so let's just call him The Boy. That'll work.

Anyways, when I was about 10, we had our house remodeled. This meant knocking out a wall in between the kitchen and family room, knocking down the cabinet wall harboring a stove and oven combo, and converting the screen porch separated by sliding glass doors into a sun room. On this specific day, however, our kitchen was finished and the last element of our makeover-the windows for our sun room- were being delivered. Mom had gone outside to be present when the window delivery guy and the carpenter were talking about the delivery, making sure the details were right. My sister, who I don't yet have a nickname for, had just started to realize that she was getting older and as such obviously needed to act more mature. To achieve this, she also stood there with her arms crossed, acting like she knew what was going on, just like mother was doing. I was running around, amused by the enormity of the truck and it's contents and messing with The Boy. He decided to run off, so I thought he was headed inside. Next thing I know, he's on his bike, with no helmet, headed around the giant truck in our driveway, not applying any brakes.

From my angle I saw his bike-riding-self come around the front of the truck and right up to a large stick. the combination of the stick and his application of the front wheel brake flipped him over the handle bars, and he came down on his chin. I counted down: 3... 2... 1... and then he screamed in pain, drawing Mom's attention to him immediately. She ran over, picked him up, examined his chin, and decided that it was worthy of a hospital trip. Since Dad was still at work, Mom didn't feel comfortable leaving us with the workers, so we all piled into Olaf (That's our van, by the way. One of two), gave the workers permission to stay, and rushed to the hospital.

I don't think I've ever been so afraid for my life.

And it wasn't The Boy's injury that scared me. Oh no.

It was Mom's driving.

In retrospect, I guess I should've expected it, being as how her youngest of five children had just bashed his chin into the ground with enough force to have broken his jaw, but her recklessness was endangering our lives. Before we left the neighborhood, she took out someone's mailbox, swerved onto the wrong side of the road and nearly hit a parked car, and ran a stop sign. After that, she was speeding, running lights, and constantly looking back to his booster seat, presumably to make sure The Boy was still conscious, despite the fact that his wailing should have been a good sign of his consciousness.

We eventually made it there, but it still wasn't fast enough for Mom. She hastily filled out the paperwork, turned it in, and came back to our seat to cradle The Boy (who was five at the time) and try to get him to quit wailing. They finally got us in, stopping at the halfway station to get his weight, temperature, basic details about the injury, and other random info that I suppose was necessary. The nurse who was helping us found this to be an opportune time to lecture The Boy, my sister and I about the safety of wearing helmets, and berate Mom for not making sure we used them, because she was obviously at fault for The Boy's injury. The nurse was insistent that if The Boy had been wearing a helmet, the buckle under his chin would've protected hime from this injury. Pfft.

Anyway, they finally got him to a room, and the doctor came to inspect the gash. After some measuring, poking and much wailing from The Boy, it was determined that stitches were required. About that time, Dad got to the hospital from work, and took my sister and I home for the evening.

And that was all.

Just kidding. Mom brought The Boy home about 9 o'clock, and he was in some sort of drunken state. He had to be gassed so that he wouldn't feel the pain of a needle going through his chin. He was also given a toy, because it was fairly close to Christmas, and our hospital gives gifts to kids who have to be there near the holiday season. He was pretty much out of his head, so went he managed to mumble something about needing to go to the bathroom, I figured I'd make sure he didn't hurt himself (you know-because he's my brother and I care?). Mom told me to let him do it himself, but, per my persistence, I followed him into the bathroom anyway. I watched in horror as he dropped his pants, and peed into the bathtub.

I'm pretty sure I didn't shower for at least a week after that.

Boy. I suck at this.

Wow. I tried to do this post earlier from an iPad 2, and it wouldn't let me type.

Anyways, school started up again, so I completely forgot I had one of these things and didn't even consider writing another one. So here I am at GSU- you know, Generic State University- and things are great. Lonely at times, but genuinely awesome the rest of the time. I joined this thing that this school has where they take like 25 freshman and put them in all the same classes so that you have a network of people you know, and it turns out that the one I joined gets to use iPad 2's provided by the school. Sure, we have to return them at the end of the semester, but it's cool while it lasts.

So the actual reason that I remembered that I have a blog is that I started reading someone else's blog. It's called "Hyperbole and a Half" and it may be the funniest thing on the internet. Her stories are so extravagantly written and the accompanying pictures are so good at capturing the drama from her stories that they engulf you. It's awesome. You should totally head over there and check it out, it'll be more amusing than this.

Here's a picture of a dancing peanut. Til next time, see ya!

EDIT: Due to this being my first time using layers, it is now an angelic peanut. Also, does anyone know of any easy to use visual art programs for windows? if so, that'd be great.

Let the games begin!

To kick things off, let me explain the point of this blog. When I learn something interesting, feel a need to share something cool, or do something for the first time and want to recount my experience, this'll be the place it goes.

With that in mind, I am currently borrowing a PC tablet from a friend and wanted to share the first production of mine on it. I'm not gonna lie: that tablet thing is difficult to get used to. I guess we'll just have to see if it gets any easier to work with.