Tuesday, January 31, 2012


This is the first time this year I have felt inclined to Ninja Attack someone. I took karate for two years starting at age six, so I feel I am prepared to instigate some Ninja Action.

Here I am, trying to take a super serious quiz about what my spirit color is on the interweb, when I am interrupted by the most annoying sequence of high pitched calls. At first, I am convinced it is some sort of bizarre wildlife, because there is a copse of trees outside my window in which wildlife frequently frolics. This nonsense continues for five minutes, during which I detect a human element to the call. I crack my window, and sure enough, I can hear, "Heeeere, kittyyyy kiiiiiiiitty." Someone has lost their cat. And I know exactly who.

My apartment complex doesn't allow dogs or cats. Yet there are trouble makers among us, two idiots who have a pet cat. I assume this cat is named "Kitty", because that's what they always call it. Kitty. I've met a lot of cats named Kitty, but I've never met a dog named Doggy.
I feel bad for this cat. For some reason, they continue to let it out to roam around the apartments even though it obviously abstains from returning home on its owners' terms. Once, it was chilling in the bushes and I came up to it, trying to pet it. It looked so happy to see me. This may be my own vanity talking, but it was sniffing my hand and stuff. Then, one of its idiot owners poked his head out of a window and screamed, "Kitty, NO! BAD!" The cat gave me the saddest look and ran in the exact opposite direction of its owner. What kind of sadist would scold a cat for seeking love? What monsters!?

I've found this cat in the apartment building with the outgoing mailbox when sending mail, I've found it on my back deck, I've even found it sitting at the bus stop. Obviously, this is a cat that likes to do things its own way. And yet these imbeciles let it out, day after day, incessantly calling for it out of their window.

And here they are, interrupting my MOST important quiz-taking with their god awful, sub-human screeching. I knew that cat would make its escape sooner or later. I can see it now, hitchhiking across the Midwest, its meager bundle of cat toys wrapped in an old handkerchief.

So I may just go out there and Ninja Attack! them. (This would consist of me giving one of them a small kick in the shin, saying, "Shut the hell up," and running away.)

I could be exaggerating this whole thing a bit...but I doubt it.
Cats hitchhike all the time.

The Cat

There was this cat on the sparse patch of grass outside my apartment building. A Chartreux, I believe.

So I went up to the cat and was all, “You know cat, you and your outdoor feline comrades are currently responsible for the alarming decline of the wild bird population in the United States.”

The cat gave me this look that was all, “I don’t give a shit. Get off my sparse patch of grass.” I was a little offended, but that’s just the nature of some cats.

I happen to look up and see said cat’s owner standing in the doorway of her apartment giving me a curious look. I suddenly remembered ‘something important’ I had to do, and fled the scene posthaste.

The moral of this story: It’s perfectly fine to lecture household pets.
(There’s a 66% chance this tale stems only from my imagination.)

Monday, January 30, 2012

James Bond vs. Aliens

(This is from about 6 months ago)

So I went to go see Cowboys & Aliens with my mom last week. Mostly I did this so I could get a free meal; I’m not sure if it was worth the sandwich. Anyway, if you are living in a bubble and haven’t heard of this ridiculously over-advertized movie, it stars James Bond Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford. It also has that square faced queen of sulk, Olivia Wilde, but she basically had one expression throughout the entire movie.

The premise is generally ridiculous: aliens invade the American Wild West, and Daniel Craig has to stop them. He plays an anti-hero of questionable motivations who prevails in the end; I know, so different from his other roles. Harrison Ford’s there too, being a grumpy old man. The only one who really did much acting was Paul Dano, but he was only in like a 4th of the movie.
The most unbelievable part of the movie was the reason why the aliens were scouting the earth for a future attack: they wanted gold. Gold?!? Really! That’s some serious bullshit. Also, the aliens were stupid looking. They looked like the offspring of John Cena and Worm Man from the X-files, dipped in tar. I said that to my mom and she was like, “That’s mean,” because she likes John Cena movies. She told me, “He still does WWW.” I think she meant WWE. It’s all pretty homoerotic, if you ask me. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

I’d show you a picture of Worm Man, but you’d have nightmares for eternity.

Also, why does Harrison Ford think he can still pull off an earring?

Attack of the Ants

 Today, before class, I was sitting innocently at my desk perfecting the appropriate mix of optimism and disinterest in my expression while listening to my ipod. I kept feeling this light tickling sensation on my forehead, which I dismissed as a stray hair trying to free itself from my scalp to fulfill its dream of being DNA evidence. I surveyed the classroom, taking in the mediocrity of my fellow students, and I suppose I was surveyed in response. Make note: other people looked at me.

The Beast of Indecision

So as you might notice, large blog following, that I didn't move my "funny" posts over from tumblr. The reason for this is I decided to use tumblr instead. Turns out, tumblr still sucks. So I'm coming back to good old Blogger! The towering hulk of anxiety that is my indecisiveness still manages to surprise me. (That first 'r' in surprise really pisses me off.)

To me, tumblr is like a pair of jeans that look really cool but actually pinch your stomach and give you gas pains. Blogger is like my favorite pair of black dressy sweatpants... I may initially think of them as the lesser leg-covering-garment, but time always shows me they are superior.

So looks like I will be doing said transfer after all. Don't expect much, incredibly numerous readers.