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Wednesday, November 23, 2011

My Last Post--And It's Going to Be More Jam-Packed With Goodness Than Katy Perry's Luscious, Celestial Breasts

And I chose Katy Perry's breasts because they really are fantastic. Like, beyond compare. But yes, hopefully this post will be just as jam-packed with goodness as I have just advertised. It's probably going to take me several days to write. Not because it's that amazing or because it even takes a lot of hard work, but because I'm just really lazy now that I've gotten out of blogging habit and because I have fat fingers.

So right now I'm starting my very last post of The Nerd Archives the day before Thanksgiving, at just about eleven o'clock, listening to the song "Keep a Friend" by Dr. Dog.

First of all, I thought I might as well open the post by mentioning that girl who I have been continually attempting to seduce. Well, I still haven't professed love. I have 1) touched her knee, 2) told her she was beautiful, 3) put my arm around her during a romantic scene in a movie, and 4) called her "pumpkin."

I feel like I've done all right, but I'm not picking up any vibes back from her. I'm not good at picking up vibes. She's a year older than me. High school girls out there reading this, PLEASE tell me. If you were in your last year of high school, and there was a guy a year younger than you who you may or not consider to be attractive, would you go out with him? I just want to know if I stand a chance. This girl is not only gorgeous--I feel good around her. Like if I wanted to, I could pick up a car with three fingers or grow a mustache in ten seconds.

But I don't know if she's being nice to me because she likes me or because she's just a nice person. I wish she would say something.

The idea has struck me that I could profess love to her in Spanish, which she doesn't speak a word of. This is what I was thinking:

Sabes, me gustas mucho. Eres bonita y inteligente y graciosa y simpática y todo. No eres como ningún otra chica. Algún día, quiero casarte y tener cien hijos. Quiero vivir contigo en una casa en Florence con los cien hijos y un perro llamado Anna Karenina. Ahora, sin embargo, estaría contento si pudiera darte un beso--si pudiera mirarte los ojos y lamer tu cara. Yo sé que soy menor que tu, pero solo se tiene una vida, y no quiero vivir una vida sin ti.

I could do French as well, but the trouble is I think she speaks some French. The only remaining option is German, but I don't know very much German at all, so this would be about the best I could do.

Du bist eine gute, große Frau. Ich will meine Hände auf Ihrem Körper. Wo ist deine Mutter? Danken Ihr für mich. Sie ist eine gute Katze. Du sowie. Jetzt tun die Liebe mit mir! Was ist das Prognosis?

(I threw that last bit in there even though it's totally irrelevant because it's my favorite German phrase.) I think that's pretty good. I don't want to risk it, if she does know German, though, because that one was considerably weirder than the first one. Although both are significantly creepy. Forget her, though! Well, don't forget her quite yet. Give me some advice. Tell me I'm handsome and cool and charismatic and could have any girl I wanted if I put my mind to it. No, I don't have Narcissistic Personality Disorder--I just wish I did. It would make everything so much easier.

Have you guys heard of BriTANicK? If not, you're going to want to thank me in about nine milliseconds. Watch this and this and this. Then jizz your pants.

Our next order of business is a review of the movie Zombieland, which I saw just a few weeks ago, done in a Transylvanian accent!!!! Here's the review:

IT VAS AWESOME

Notice I replaced the W with a V to make it sound Transylvanian.

My next next order of business is to proudly announce my final follower count and total page views! This I will do in an Irish accent. You won't really notice, though, because I'm writing, not talking. But just use your imagination.

Followers? 168. Yeah, I wanted to reach 200 but that wasn't gonna happen. Unless any of you have been hiding 32 potential followers from me in your pants. Come on. Whip em out. You can't hide them any longer. Don't think I haven't noticed that suspicious bulge in your trousers. I KNOW YOU'RE HIDING THEM.

Total page views, at least since I installed the gadget a few months ago? About 19,500. That's pretty good, I think. I wouldn't really know. Probably 19,000 of those are mine, but that still leaves about 500 from you guys.

Now I want to thank some people. I'm tearing up a bit. Tears are streaming down my face and turning to flowers when they hit the floor. I'm that sad.

As you can see, I have a fair amount of followers, but many of them are long gone. Some, however, have stuck with me until the very end, and I'd like to thank them specifically. YUUHH BOY TIME FOR SOME SHOUT OUTS!!!

Boyd from Boyd's World: Did you guys know his name wasn't really Boyd? Cha, it only took me like a year to figure that one out. But anyway, he's hilarious, he listens to Zeppelin, and he has pretty great hair that kinda makes him remind me of Jack White. Boyd, call me when you become famous one day! But not until then, or it'd just be weird.

RainboRevovler from I Wish I Were British: The first time I saw this blog I was like gahh no way I wish I was British too! And it's true. I think everyone does. Julia is very funny in an extremely dry way, and she's a great writer too. Considering I'm not exactly a regular party-goer myself, she also provides interesting insight into the life of a raver. Julia, I'm gonna miss you and your many hairstyles. Stay golden.

Eeshie from I Don't Skinny Dip...I Chunky Dunk: Eeshie has been mean to me sometimes, but I can forgive her for that because she's really nice and she sends me a lot of very fashionable, great hats to wear on the holidays. Her blog is awesome and I love her even though she's a Slytherin. Eeshie, you will always hold a place in my heart. I'll never forget you, darling

Jessica from Lemons Don't Make Lemonade: She likes talking about sex. Like, a lot. Even more than I do. Which was startling for me to figure out. But her blog is very funny and sometimes I get an erection while reading it. She posts hilarious pictures, something I've always neglected to do and which has lost me probably the success of this blog. But, Jessica, good luck in life and I hope your love of sex continues to grow and grow and grow.

Gabi from Crazy Socks and Ninja Bunnies: As you can tell from her blog name, Gabi is wacky. She does this hilarious thing on her blog where she has multiple personalities all having a conversation with one another. One time I laughed so hard I peed my pants. Yeah, thanks a lot, Gabi. I happened to like those pants. Anyway. Gabi, my advice to you is to hold onto your wacky and bizarre personality. Don't let it go like Kate Winslet let go of Leonard DiCaprio at the end of Titanic. THERE WAS ENOUGH ROOM FOR THE BOTH OF YOU, KATE!

Bookish.Spazz from, not unexpectedly, Bookish Spazz: Bookish is very cool. She's a cool cat, is what she is. Her posts are always fun and interesting and she also is a very wacky person. I've never asked her, but I think of her as very much a cat person. Which is a good thing, in my book. To Bookish I leave my copy of Tales of the Beedle and the Bard, in the hopes that she will find it entertaining and instructive.

Cosette from Like a Tapir: She hasn't been with us all that long, but I had no choice to include her on this list because I love her blog and because she's been such a fantastic follower. I don't know if she's from Canada or not, but for some reason I've always thought she was from Canada. Or Minnesota. Anyway, Cosette, I love your blog name and I sincerely hope it's your real name because it's awesome! Good luck in life!

Kay from The Cerulean Skies: Kay is awesome beyond belief. She leaves the most subtle but funny, clever, thought-provoking comments on my blog. And her blog is so delicious it's like being hit in the face with a chocolate chess pie. Each of her blog posts is a little gift from heaven. Just like babies. Anyway, Kay, I love you and God does too and I hope you keep writing forever and ever.

Furree Katt from Furree Katt: I've always loved her blog and especially her blog name. She's super nice and a very interesting person and even though she's absolutely blogger famous, she always swings by and says hi whenever I'm feeling lonely. Furree Katt, good luck in life! I'll always think of you whenever I think of people who spell the word "cat" wrong!

Abby from Lounge Act: I've tried to express to you people numerous times the magnitude of amazingness this blog possesses. If you don't read it by now, anyway, you should. She hasn't been posting so much in the past few months, like many of us, but her writing is beyond spectacular. Abby, you are a jewel. Farewell, my sweet!

L from [I Am Unimaginative]: Last but most certainly not least!! I would never ever ever in my long-legged life choose my favorite blogger, because I don't pick favorites, but if someone held a gun to my head and demanded that I choose one, (don't ask why I would find myself in that situation--it's plausible, okay?), I might just choose L. Her posts are funky, hilarious, and also funky. Did I mention funky? I love her blog and shh...I'm also reading her book. (L, I'll get back to you about that really soon.) And it's fantastic. But I can't say too much shhhhh. She's also Jewish. NOT LIKE THAT MATTERS. But it certainly doesn't hurt. It definitely wins her a few bonus points in my book. Anyway, goodbye for now, Jen! I have faith that I'll see you very soon. Well, I'll see you. But you may not see me.

Some of you may be wondering, wait, why is That Blond Guy saying goodbye if he's going to continue writing on his super-awesome, spectacular, amazing, fantastic other blog, Yesterday Upon the Stair? Well, that's a good question, person-who-I-most-certainly-did-not-pay-to-say-those-things-about-my-blog.

I WILL continue writing on that blog, and hopefully at more regular intervals, but I will not often be out and about in the blogosphere, as I have been here. Hopefully I'll be spending more time out in nature. More time reading, writing, thinking, and more time interacting with people and having experiences. More time to witness sunsets. More time to eat blueberries. Most importantly, in fact, more time to eat blueberries.

So that's why I'm saying goodbye to all of you now. And also, I really like saying goodbyes. As you can tell. I hate leaving someone without saying a proper goodbye. It kills me. It eats me up inside. And I like sentiment. As you can tell from the fact that nine-tenths of the movies I have mentioned on this blog have been romantic comedies. But I digress.

I do hope that you all will continue to read my other blog, the link to which can be found at the top of the page, but I won't be annoying about it. If you like poetry, art, and Mel Gibson, just stop by sometime.

I think this post needs to be winding to a close. My last and perhaps most important order of business is to introduce my web comic. The site is finally up and running. The site is Lizardworm.com and the comic is called The Toble Chronicles. It's a comic BY super-awesome people FOR super-awesome people. And super-awesome people only. So if you're not super-awesome, you can go fuck yourself.

Here's the link. It doesn't work on Internet Explorer yet, so do it on Mozilla Firefox or Google Chrome if you have those. If not, need I say it? I will, just in case. Go fuck yourself.

Well, it looks like my time here is coming to an end. I'm scared now. There's so much pressure. These are the last few words I'll be writing on The Nerd Archives. What do I say? Think of something profound! Quick! Ah, too late. Well, here are my closing words. They're not much, but they're...well..not much.

It's been a wild journey. I began this blog a nerd, and I'm certainly ending it a nerd. The Nerd Archives has been a father to me. A mother. A brother. A sister. A dog. A cousin. An aunt. A teacher. A student. An uncle. A grandparent. A husband. A wife. A pediatrician. A watchmaker. A tailor. And perhaps above all: it's been a dentist. A great dentist.

Never be ashamed of who you are. Be proud of it, even if you, like me, are a nerd who watches weird TV shows and eats band-aids. Life will get better for you. Or maybe it will get worse. Who knows? Well, God does. The least you can do is exercise a lot and get good grades. The safest sex is no sex!

Farewell, my children!!! But first: check out this hat!



My final Movie Quote of the Day: "That'll do, Pig. That'll do." -Farmer, Babe

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Thursday, November 10, 2011

I Feel Like Shit Right Now

Everytime I feel like this I try to remind myself of things like "Happiness is a choice" and shit like that. Well, I don't think it's shit. I think it's true. But sometimes, when you feel like shit, you just feel like shit.

I don't know why I'm writing my post, because I'm going to regret it later when I look back and see that my second-to-last post on The Nerd Archives was a post about how I felt like shit. But write these wimpy-ass posts where I bitch about my stupid white boy problems has been one of my favorite parts of The Nerd Archives. So I thought I might as well.

Actually, I'm not going to talk about why I feel like shit. I don't want to go into it. I will, however, post a text conversation I had. I never thought I'd post text conversations ever ever ever, but I guess I was wrong. I had this about a week or two ago after my friend and I bumped into that girl I'd been avoiding for the entire year so far. It was at about 8. Here's how it goes. Also, yes, we actually did use all of this correct punctuation and impeccable grammer. You don't make many friends when you're a Grammer Nazi, but it's worth it because you make friends with other Grammer Nazis.

Me: Also...about today.

Him: About what today?

Me: Nevamind.

Him: Now you have to tell me. Is it about the girl?

Me: Um. No.

Him: It's fine. Do. Not. Worry about it. You didn't look like an idiot at all. Trust me on that--I'm usually quite blunt.

Me: The thing is...I caught up with her later today.

Him: Oh, well, listen. Don't go into it if you don't want to. If you do, I'm listening.

Me: I do.

Him: Alright, what happened?

Me: She was reading, and I just walked up and said hi. Well, actually, first I had to knock on the window.

Him: Wait...What?

Me: Just listen.

Him: Okay.

Me: It turns out the window was unlocked, so I just let myself in. She was in her pajamas.

Him: Wait, how much later was this?

Me: About thirty minutes ago. She started screaming, which freaked me out, so I got all nervous and started knocking stuff over.

Him: Wha

Me: Then her mom came in and screamed too, because I was naked.

Him: What?!

Me: Then I started sobbing and yelling. I scrawled over to her bed and crept under the covers. They were so soft...so soft...

Him: Um, well, okay. Hey. Are you anywhere near my house? Just wondering.

Me: I'm at your house. Gimme some sugar mama. Give your baby some sugar.

Him: I'm calling the cops.

Me: NO POLICE. PLEASE NO POLICE. I DON'T WANNA GO BACK TO THE DARK PLACE.

*End of conversation.*

That really was the end of the conversation, because he really did call the police and then the fun was over. But anyway.

I have the URL for the Web Comic, but we haven't posted anything yet. Join the mailing list, though, and I'll repay you in sexual favors! Here's the link. Ask your friends to join to. I don't know if I can repay all of them in sexual favors as well, but maybe if we increase productivity by doing several at once, everyone can have a go.

Do any of you still read my other blog?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

Anyway. I still feel like shit. I'm listening to Radiohead, but it's not helping a lot. I'll be in a better mood when I write the last post and then end it all. An observation: ending your blog by a gradual process is not good for traffic. But anyway. It might be a while. I'm flying to Texas this weekend for my grandfather's funeral. And I might be busy until next weekend. But don't forget about me. Don't let me die alone.

Movie Quote of the Day:

...oh fuck it.

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Rest of the Video Blog and the Mustache I Never Had

Here are the links to the second and third parts of the video.

I know it's been really long, but I don't know what else to do without not answering all of your questions. I do NOT expect anyone to watch all of it. Want me to tell the truth? I haven't even watched all of it. I don't see how anyone could. Just skip to the part where I answer your question.

I do suggest that EVERYBODY watch the first part of the second video, in which I talk in fifteen different languages. Give or take.

My next and last post will probably be in about a week. I don't know what I'm going to have cooked up for you guys, but I hope that it will be something good.

One important thing I forgot to mention. When I was talking about my birthday presents, I forgot to tell you that I also got a new iPod! Before, I just had a nano that only held about 400 songs. Now I have a classic iPod, cool gray, which can hold about five hundred billion thousand songs. Which I think is pretty good.

I have an AP US History essay which I should be doing right now. But in two or three hours, I'll be at a haunted corn maze! Wish me luck!

Before you go. I wrote a poem for this poetry slam type thing at my school which L from [I Am Unimaginative] was kind enough to read earlier and give me encouragement to share at the slam. I'll post this again to my other blog, which I have recently renamed, but I thought I'd post it here because no one really reads my other blog.

I meant for it to be kinda creepy, because the slam is Halloween-themed. But you be the judge. Tell me what you think.

The Man With a Bandage Over His Eyes

He stands like an ink stain in the shadows black
Escapes through the walls through some creeping crack
His lips stretched tight and his face ghostly white
Highlighted so by some eerie light
The man with a bandage over his eyes

He remains there some days from dusk until dawn
Then for days on he is for some reason gone
Where he goes I cannot not say
But when he’s there I pray I pray that he’ll just go away
The man with a bandage over his eyes

He never speaks, never says a word
Just stands there, so still, like some deathly night bird
His expression is blank, like a child’s doll
Although sometimes he smiles, there against the wall
The man with a bandage over his eyes

Last night he followed me to my bedroom door
I lay in bed sweating from every pore
I lay turned away in the thick thick pitch black
But I felt his gaze burning into my back
The man with a bandage over his eyes

I know he’ll come again tonight
His face so pale, so pale and white
The moonlight streams, the cock crows
He’ll take me with him to wherever he goes
The man with a bandage over his eyes


HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!



Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Question and Answer Video Blog, Part 1

This one is REALLY long, so I'm going to post it in two parts. This, as I mentioned before, is NOT my room. It's actually the only place in my house where one can get any privacy. My bedroom does not provide me with any privacy. I can't tell you what the room is, though, because it's sort of confidential.

La la la I'm a link why not click on me and make my day.

Also, here's a hot picture of Jodie Foster and her hot feet:



Jodie Foster is so hot. Too bad she's a lesbian, and that's the truth. God, I want to make sweet, sweet love to her. Look at her face. Look at that face.

And here's a picture of my pumpkin this year:


Out of the two, I might even have sex with the pumpkin over Jodie. Sorry, Jodie, but I really like this pumpkin.

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

An Idea for a Video Blog Which I Totally Did NOT Get from Bookish.Spazz

I think it would be cool if I did one last video blog, and I made it like a Q&A video, kinda like Bookish.Spazz did.

So please. Leave a comment and ask me any questions you like and as many as you like. Know no boundaries. Boundary no nose.

Until next time.



Also, watch this: Harry Potter and the X-Rated Trailer. You can thank me later.

Movie Quote of the Day: "Do you mean sleep over?" -Josh, Big

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Monday, October 17, 2011

Some Pitchas--I Mean, Like, A LOT of Pitchas

It's my birthday in two days. Yeah, I'm happy. Unfortunately, my birthday almost always coincides with Homecoming Week, so I can never do anything with my friends from school, and my friends from my old school are sort of all over the place. So I'm not actually doing anything much this weekend except with my family. We just went to PF Changs. Yuh.

Now how about some pictures. Some of these pictures are really old, and all of them are totally random, but I thought I might as well. Okay, first, here's a pigeon.



That's actually my pet pigeon. His name is Pigeon. Which makes me sort of like the Pigeon Lady. Except I'm not lady. At least as far as you know. Whaaaaaaaaa?

Next, here's a picture I guess I never really showed you guys. It's my art piece from Drawing 2 last year. We took a common, household tool and made a giant portrait of it and did all sorts of weird shit to it. Here's mine:



It's a wrench. In case you can't tell, you dumbass. It took a lot of work. I think it was at least two months in the end. There are like three layers on that drawing. I'm rather proud of it, though. I was fucking sick of it after about the sixth week of working on it, though.

Here's some pictures from the lake that my family and I sometimes go to when the people there are kind enough to loan use their lake house. Yeah, we don't even have our own lake house. We just steal them from other people. We're like rats. Or maggots. If you stay out long enough, you'll come back to your lake house and flip on the lights and we'll squeal and take cover under the couch or something.


That's me and my dad at the lake. I tried singing the song "Cat's in the Cradle" to make him play catch with me, but he just told me to leave him alone.


There's the sunset. Pretty standard sunset, I think. But I like it. Sunsets are nice. My sister is in this picture. Except you can't really see her, because she's drowning under water.



This is a picture of a bee that my dad took. I think it's really really a good picture. I was very impressed. I don't know how it's going to show up on blogger, but the quality is excellent on our camera. The bee looks so colorful--I would eat it if you paid me enough.

Next up, here's a couple of pictures from the studio of Joel Barr. We went to visit his studio a while back and it was insanely cool. He just gave us a little tour and showed us around a bit. It was actually amazing. Afterwards, though, we went to Urban Pl-8, and I didn't like that, because it was rabbit foot. But there you are.




He made a lot of little mini ones. Those are some of them right there that we're looking at. I don't know why I'm standing that way, though. Maybe I'm trying to hide an erection because this art is so awesome.



Here's another of his paintings which I really like. If you wanna see anymore, too bad. Go to his fucking website, you shitheads. But really, check out his website. It's cool. And I don't actually think you're shitheads. I'm sorry.



This is my boy cat, Lucky. You may have heard of him. He is perhaps the greatest cat to have ever stepped on the face of the earth. He likes vibrators, but not the sex toy kind. The back massage kind. And he can talk.



This is a picture I took of my brother, Matthew, on the way back from Texas. There's not really any reason I'm posting this except because 1) the background is really really pretty and 2) he actually somehow looks kind of badass in this picture. And my brother is not one to look badass. So if you're reading this and you know Matthew, don't tell him I posted this picture. Just let him bask in the subconscious glory.



This is a picture of me running track. It looks like it's going to turn out really small, which is a shame, because my face looks hilarious in this picture. But yeah, I'm fourth in the picture, and I'm running the 4X100. I'm beating a black kid! Shut up! That's not racist. I just thought I might mention that he's black because it's an interesting detail.



This is a picture of me, my brother, my sister, and mom as babies. Well, my mom wasn't a baby (ha ha) I hope. But yeah, this is a pretty great picture. I'm in the middle. I'm holding Bunny in my right hand. Bunny is probably the only thing that got me through my childhood. Bunny is a bunny. And he's very soft. He almost got eaten by a dog, but we rescued him.


This is a picture of my brother, me, and a friend from our old school in Boy Scouts in like third or fourth grade staying overnight on the USS Yorktown. It was probably one of the coolest experiences of my life, even though I was not such a huge fan of Boy Scouts. There were four bunks stacked on top of one another. And that night, a bunch of kids from our troop got sick and like all of them were on the very top bunk. Yeah. It was raining vomit. But not in a good way, like sometimes.

Here's a picture of my Jack-o-Lantern from 2009. I think it may possibly be my masterpiece.



Yeah, it creeped the fuck out of me and I made it. So yeah.

Finally:



Bloggers, meet Swag Face. Swag Face, meet bloggers.

I hope you enjoyed this post. I'm probably going to end this blog around Halloween, so stay tuned until then. I'll try to get my web-comic up and running so I can link it to you guys. Also, if I manage to get a hold of this Dutch girl from EYC and claim her as my own, I will make an exception and come back to tell you guys.

Movie Quote of the Day: "No, Boss, I'm Jewish." -Knuckles, Bugsy Malone

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Jack Conte Is One Boss, Bold, Bladed Motherfucker

Seriously, have I not gone on enough about Jack Conte for all of you to have become totally obsessed with him? I thought I hit jackpot when I discovered Pomplamoose, but while Nataly Dawn is an amazing singer, Conte is the real jewel. Is it weird that I just called a man a jewel? I think it's okay as long as I don't say it to his face.

So, as I hope all of you know by now, it's my birthday a week from tomorrow. I'm really excited. I asked my parents if they knew what they were going to get me, and they told me to go fuck myself. So I guess it's going to be a surprise.

I don't really know what I'm going to talk about in the post today. I was going to do a Breakfast Club parody that was like in modern times where I'm casted sort of as the part of Brian, (as if there's any other part I could possibly play). I decided against it, because I went to bed really late last night after I went to this wild rave. A guy died, but we didn't stop dancing. Then the music brought him back to life, and he just got up and started dancing again. Well, actually, he had been asleep. But never underestimate the power of good dubstep.

That would be really really cool to have like a modern Breakfast Club, though. Andrew would be the same sort of Varsity football player jock penis, because that will never really change. Claire would be like the cheerleader Homecoming Queen anorexic Taylor Swift fan, and she would probably wear Uggs because hey. Allison could be like the bizarre Anime fan girl who listens to Bjork and collects porcelain dolls. Brian wouldn't HAVE to be casted as an Indian kid...but I think that would work. And he would be a mathlete and be in robotics and still in high school play Pokemon. Bender COULD be black, but he doesn't have to. Not at all. But he could be. Just putting that out there. And he would be pretty much the same.

Yesterday I saw maybe the scariest movie I've ever seen. It's called The Descent. I don't suggest you watch it if you enjoy caving. It's about a bunch of stone cold bitches who get trapped in a cave and then discover a bunch of scary creatures there who it turns out are humans that got trapped in the cave millions of years ago and evolved into disgusting vampire gnomes. I was hoping that since the women in the movie were all hot they would be like, "Oh, since we're trapped in this cave we might as well have a massive lesbian cave orgy," but that's not what happens at all. It was pretty fucking terrifying. I pissed my pants, and I had to cover up by telling everyone I spilled Diet Coke on them. Then they pointed out that I wasn't drinking Diet Coke, and I just looked at them for a while and then started crying.

I also went with a friend to this great Asian restaurant. I don't actually remember the name, though. So I don't know why I'm telling you. Except I saw a lot of attractive, trendy couples there sitting in booths where the women were staring sadly out the window while their husbands/boyfriends were checking their blackberries or iPhones. It made me really angry. I wanted to grab the men by their shoulders and scream, "Wake up! You have a beautiful woman in front of you! Would you appreciate her and give her a good time for once rather than check your empty gmail inbox for the eleventh time tonight?!" But I didn't. I just leered creepily at them the whole night.

At that same restaurant, I went into the restroom to wash my hands, and there was one of those baby-changing stations inside. It was open, and there was a grown man lying half-naked on it. I screamed, and he started wailing "Change me, mama! Change me!" So then I called the police, but by the time they arrived, he was gone.

Actually, that didn't happen. But it would make for a good story, wouldn't it?

I just found out that Psych started last Wednesday, and I didn't even realize. I might watch it tonight. I actually don't have a ton of curiosity about it because it's gotten so bad now. I'm still going to watch it, though, because Maggie Lawson is literally like my biggest celebrity crush in the world.

Before I go on, I'm going to stop myself and mention that I just read over that last sentence and am realizing that I'm probably the only guy on the face of the entire planet who would ever use the words "literally like my biggest celebrity crush in the world." I guess I'm just special. God made me that way.

But back to Psych, the show has gotten pretty bad, and James Roday isn't exactly as...er...fit as he used to be. But Maggie Lawson is sexy to the power of 23. Yes, I realize that she also is blonde-hair-blue-eyed. (My friends used to tease me about that and I thought it was all good fun until I realized that I have a serious problem. I need to find an Indian chick or something to date so people don't think I'm racist.) But she really is hot. And pretty much the only reason I watch the show anymore.

It's beautiful outside. We've gotten our pumpkins for Halloween.

Homecoming is next weekend. I might go to the game, even though I hate football games, but I don't think I'm going to the dance this year. What's the point? I hate the music, I don't have a date, I'm going to feel depressed afterwards, and what am I doing by attending that dance except buying into the system? I'm not a slave to the system. I never have been. The only way they could make me go the Homecoming Dance is if I was dead. And who would want to bring a dead guy to a dance? That's some fucked up shit.

I don't think I have much else to say. Except that I think I'm going to start a web-comic. Have you seen Cyanide and Happiness? They're kind of like that. (I've made about fifty of them now.) I just need to find someone who knows how to put them on the computer, make a website, and make everything look professional. Shouldn't be too hard.

And if I manage to get it up and running, I'll try to give you the link before The Nerd Archives takes its last breath. Then, if you guys read them and actually like them, maybe you'd even spread them around a bit. That would be awesome. I don't even know if this is going to happen, though.









Knock knock knock knock knock.

Who's there.

Me having sex with your mother last night.

Movie Quote of the Day: "You--you eat like a bird." -Norman Bates, Psycho

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Saturday, October 8, 2011

I've Made Up My Mind, A Piano Piece I Just Composed, and Guords Look Like Penises

I think I've made up my mind. I am either a) going to murder this blog in the throat and then lick the blood off the knife after I'm done with it, b) going to taking a significantly lengthy hiatus from this blog which might not conclude until pigs fly (a matter of months I imagine), or c) just going to post a lot less frequently. I haven't decided which one yet, and I believe I might still stamp out a few more posts before it comes to that.

One thing I can guarentee--the last post on The Nerd Archives will be so bad-ass that you will suffer permanent damage to your retinas. You will openly weep for several hours, and then you will give birth to a baby you didn't even know you were pregnant with. Billions of people all over the world will fall on their knees to worship it. The sun will begin to revolve around it, and then the Universe will collapse in on itself.

Hopefully when I come back, if I do come back, I'll have written my book. I'm not going to tell you anything about it, I don't think. I probably don't have to tell you that it's insanely fucked up, either. I think that's the only thing that will keep the book going--just like it was the only thing that kept this blog going--to see how far I could take it.

Most importantly, I would love it if you guys would take a look at a YouTube video of the newest piano piece I've written, and I really think it's the best yet. (If I do say so myself.) Some of you really pianists might scoff at it, but I'm awful proud.

LOOK AT ME CLICK ON ME I'M A LINK HEY CHECK ME OUT I'M A LINK LA LA LA LA I'M JUST HANGING OUT HERE BEING A LINK WHY NOT DO ME A FAVOR AND MAKE MY LIFE A LITTLE MORE INTERESTING BY CLICKING ON ME YEAH COME ON YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO CLICK ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER I CAN KEEP THIS UP PLEASE I HAVE A WIFE AND KIDS TO FEED.

If you missed that link, I suggest you check yourself in to a mental hospital. That, or join the Tea Party.

Onto my final and most important matter of business, here are a handful of pictures of guords that look like penises.


This one probably looks most like mine. Long, hard, and disturbingly orange.



This is what I've always imagined a politician's penis would like look like. I think politicians probably look a lot like their penises. Fat, pasty, and pinheaded.



What? You mean your penis doesn't look like this too?

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed that as much as I just did. Also, I just started thinking about the end of The Nerd Archives and I got sad because I'm going to be really sad to end the Nerd Archives. You guys better be too. You better be. And you better give me lots of long, juicy comments about how much you're going to miss me and how you've secretly loved me all along.

Finally, look at this picture of my cat and listen to the song Sex, Yeah by Marina and the Diamonds.



Do you think Oedipus Rex ever posted on FML?

Like, "Just killed my dad and banged my mom....FML."

I think so.

Finally, I might as well notify you there's one new poll on the top of the right sidebar. I think you'll enjoy it. At least, I will.

Movie Quote of the Day: "That's not fun. That's propaganda, man. All those Madison Avenue types telling you how to live your life. Fast cars, hot chicks... Reese's Pieces... Gucci... Werther's Original. I don't buy into that bullshit!" -Bobby, It's Kind of a Funny Story

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

A Tale About Pepper the Gay Monkey and a Little More Bitching on my Part About Whether or Not I Should End This Blog

Once there was a monkey named Pepper. Pepper was not like most other monkeys in the way that while he was a boy monkey, he did not like girl monkeys. He liked other boy monkeys.

This was apparent to Pepper's parents from a very early age. It was Halloween one year, and while all of Pepper's brothers dressed up as pirates or cowboys, Pepper walked out of his room wearing one of his mother's dresses and a little tiara perched on top of his head. Lipstick was smeared all over his face.

"I'm a beautiful princess," Pepper exclaimed excitedly, stroking the dress lovingly. "I need to find a frog to kiss to turn into a handsome prince."

Pepper's Mama and Papa Monkey exchanged glances. Then Papa Monkey grabbed Pepper's shoulder and led him out back, where he began to beat him violently with a banana.

"Ain't no son 'a mine gone be some fruit!" Papa Monkey yelled, beating his son repeatedly with the banana.

Pepper showed no more signs of liking other boy monkeys until he was about nine-years-old. Mama and Papa Monkey got a call from the local monkey elementary school that Pepper had been trying to hold hands with the other boy monkeys. Mama and Papa Monkey exchanged glances, then Papa Monkey drove over to the school and beat his son with a banana.

"Don't you go touchin' on none more of 'em boy monkeys!" Papa Monkey shouted furiously. "Know yo place!"

Needless to say, Ppper didn't try to hold hands with other boy monkeys for a while after that, but it was obvious that his future was inevitable. He liked wearing pink, he listened to Abba, and he had a poster of James Dean hanging up in his room. When his parents asked him why this was, he claimed it was for "business reasons." He didn't play monkey football with his brother Tom and Craig, preferring to hang out with his sister Louise and talk about their favorite movies or clothes. But Papa Monkey did not have to beat Pepper with a banana again until he was a senior in monkey high school, when he came home with a boy monkey for prom.

Mama and Papa Monkey exchanged glances, then Papa Monkey took the both of them out back and beat them with a banana.

"Y'all's ain't no ladies!" he bellowed. "Y'all's is men!"

Pepper didn't get to go to the prom with the other boy monkey, whose name was Shawn, because both of them were too sore from the banana-beating. They did continue to "go out," though, although Papa Monkey was not aware of this.

It came as a shock, then, when a year after his graduation from monkey high school, Pepper came home with Shawn and announce that they had gotten married. Not surprisingly, Papa Monkey beat both of them with the banana for quite a while, then he found the monkey priest who had married them and beat him with the banana as well.

"You ain't no priest! You ain't no priest!" he hollered.

Pepper didn't see his father for a whole year after that, because he went to live with his new monkey partner, Shawn. Both of them were tired of getting beaten with bananas. Nonetheless, they returned to Pepper's house exactly one year after they had gotten married. They had recently adopted a baby monkey girl named Roseanne. They decided to give Papa Monkey one last chance.

When they rang the doorbell, Papa Monkey opened the door, saw the baby monkey they were holding, and raised his banana to beat it with. But then Pepper grabbed his arm and said, "Papa? Would you really beat a baby with a banana?"

Papa Monkey looked at his son, then at the banana, then at the baby. Then he realized the error of his ways and hugged the baby and his son and Shawn. And everyone was happy and lived happily ever after.

And it was then that I realized that the only reason I wrote this story was so that I could include the line, "Would you really beat a baby with a banana?"

____________________________________________

Onto the bitching.

Thank you guys so much for all of your kind, supportive comments on the last post. Yes, I am considering ending this blog, and yes, it is because I have decided to join the circus. I am not FOR SURE going to stop writing on The Nerd Archives, but I'm definitely thinking about it.

I know a lot of you suggested I could just post a little less frequently, but I think that if I really wanted to get the book written, I would have to stop writing altogether--or at least take a significantly lengthy hiatus from The Nerd Archives.

But I don't know what to do. One thing I'm worried about is that if I stop writing on The Nerd Archives, I won't be funny ever again. I wasn't funny when I started this blog, so why should I be funny if I end it? I don't know what to do. But thanks to all of you guys for your advice. You'll be supporting me until the very end. You promise. What's that? You're the ones who are supposed to say that? Fuck that.

New single by Coldplay? FUCK YEAH. New single by Marina and the Diamonds? What the hell. She's not a popstar. Since when has she been a popstar? This song was a betrayal on many levels.

Movie Quote of the Day: "I haven't been fucked like that since grade school," Marla Singer, Fight Club

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Friday, September 30, 2011

I'm Thinking About Ending This Blog (Sad Face)

I'm not joking this time, I don't think. Well, I don't know what to think. But I'm considering it.

The Nerd Archives is one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. That sounds weird to say--to think that writing a blog could be one of the best things that has ever happened to someone. But I really grew while writing this blog. And I think I even sort of discovered myself. (Stop laughing! Stop laughing!) You guys have been so great, and I've had so much fun with The Nerd Archives. I've probably used the word "penis" more times on The Nerd Archives than is even legal in the state of Georgia.

But this blog has also been keeping me from a lot of things. For starters, I've been trying to write a book. But this blog sort of saps all of the creative energy I have, I think. I mean, I write about 800 words in the average NA post--I've written 180 posts. That puts me right at about 144,000 words in all the history of The Nerd Archives. That's a good deal more than the size of the average novel. Theoretically, I could have written my book by now at that rate.

I also kind of want to focus more on spending time in nature, doing creative things, and getting fit. I want to have the abs of Chuck Norris, the mind of Tim Burton, and the skin tone of Katy Perry's fake tan in California Girls. Right now I have none of those things.

But at the same time, I might be being impulsive. I just don't know what to think. I don't know what to do. I feel like I have two conflicting personalities battling each other inside my head. And whichever one I let win could affect the outcome of my happiness in life.

Yeah, that's being a bit dramatic, but I'm a teenager. I think I have the right to be dramatic whenever I want. But none of this is too much of an exaggeration. The Nerd Archives has seen me through my first relationship, two of the most awkward years of my life, the moving-away of four of my friends, the coming-out of three of my friends, my discovery of music, my first real girl-rejection, the amputation of my left leg, and the election of Sarah Palin to presidency of the United States.

Actually, the last two things aren't actually things. But you get the point. This blog has become a part of me. And I'm worried that That Blond Guy is more me than me. And it will be like cloning yourself and you're like cool a clone so you let the clone follow you around everywhere and at first it's really cool but then you're like okay I'm tired of having a clone it's time for you to die clone. And it's like HELLS NO and so you have this epic battle and finally you win but then you feel all empty inside and so you dress up the corpse of your clone and you have conversations with it and you feed it food just like in Psycho and then finally you stab Vera Miles in the chest while she's showering and you're like shit what have I done she was hot. I'm worried that's going to happen to me. Except instead of a clone--it will be The Nerd Archives.

But really, all of you guys are SO cool. Some of you have stuck with The Nerd Archives for a really long time, and you have no idea how much that has meant to me. If I were you, I would read one post of this blog and be like "Wtf?" and then leave and never come back. I wish I could line all of you up and give each of you a great big hug.

I don't know what else I have to say. Thanks to all of you with band suggestions from last time. Meaning Cosette, Boyd, and L. And not actually Boyd, because I've already been listening to the Eels for three years. In fact, guess who was the drummer for the Eels for three whole weeks? Me! Sorry, Boyd. I do love Cage the Elephant. Band suggestions still needed, guys!

Speaking of which, check out this page about stereotyping people according to their favorite indie bands. I've had a lot of fun with this--especially because some of my brother's favorite indie folk bands were on here and none of them were too complimentary. But check it out. My favorite one is for Vampire Weekend.

My problem with commenting on blogs has gotten even worse. BELIEVE ME--I have tried to comment on ALL of your blogs, but for some reason it just doesn't work. It works on a select few of them, but I have no idea why it works on some and works on others. I am so sorry, because I read all of your blogs still and I want to post a snide comment that will leave you slightly offended but I just can't! I think I have a virus.

(Sigh.) I knew my obsession with internet porn would do me in eventually.

I'm probably not going to stop blogging today or tomorrow--I don't even know if I'm going to stop blogging at all. I'm just thinking out loud here, guys. This may be nothing. Maybe I've just been listening to the Dead too much and now I feel like making unnecessary, serious changes in my life. I don't know. Stay tuned. May the Force be with you.

Movie Quote of the Day: "Did you like my squid?" -Jerry, Sphere

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Warning! This Post Was Inspired by the Third-to-Last Freaks and Geeks Episode

It is currently 11:18 in the PM. I just finished Episode 16 of the old 90's TV show Freaks and Geeks which tragically got cancelled after the eighteenth episode, which I still have yet to watch. (So I swear: if any of you spoil it, I will slit your throats and drink your blood! Fuck off!)

I will say that it was a really happy episode. And because I'm such a huge sucker for happy endings, the result is usually that I write a late night post on The Nerd Archives. Usually I delete it, but sometimes not early enough, and some people see it. And they never come back.

I wish I had a person in my life who I could write letters to. Nobody wants to write letters. It's just not a thing anymore. I wish it was. I really wish it was. I think I've only written one serious, long, not-a-thank-you-note letter in all my life. And it's so satisfying. You know what's not satisfying? Trying to write a meaningful e-mail. That doesn't make sense. A meaningful e-mail? That's an oxymoron. Like jumbo shrimp or Al Gore.

I still write e-mails to my best friend, because I don't think he'd be up to writing letters and because we go to different schools and don't see each other often that's the only way we can really talk. Other e-mails I get are forwarded messages about the world ending or people from Saudi Arabia asking for money. Which of course I have to accept. They're writing in all-caps!

I used to have sort of what you could call "meaningful" e-mail exchanges with this one girl I knew from way back when. (God, I sound like such a prick saying "meaningful e-mails." I'll stop now. Really.) I could really connect with her. There was just something about her that made me want to take a picture of the moon, print it, eat it, and then call it performance art. She was amazing.

But I fucked it up. I fucked it up with her. It could never have worked anyway, because she moved, as all girls tend to do when I tell them that I think they have pretty faces and say I think we should get married. But at least I could have made the most of it, instead of being the weird little wimp I was back then. I'm not going to go into it, because I'm probably going to start crying and breathing real fast, but just know that she was like the most amazing girl in the world, and that I fucked it up.

I'm fed up with being me. I wish I was the type of guy who could just seize life by the tits and have my way with it. But I'm not, really. I'm a writer. I'm a vampire. I'm a nerd. I'm the type of guy who thinks about taking chances, doesn't, and then blogs about how much he wishes he took chances.

I really miss elementary school. I was an annoying-ass little brat, but everything was so simple. Classes were easy, I had the best friends in the world who I could talk to about anything, I had just discovered the Beatles, and we had recess. And I probably talked to girls more than I do now. It's sad, I know. But I probably talked to more girls in elementary school than I do now. Granted, they were also third graders and we were playing duck-duck-goose in music class--a tactic I rarely use nowadays. But at least I talked to them. Girls are just guys with vaginas, make-up, and long hair--why am I so afraid of them? Ah, if only I was eleven-years-old again. I had game.

Yeah, I wish I had someone to write letters to. But who could I write? If it was a stranger, what if it's a serial killer who might track me down and cut off my penis? I don't want that to happen. I like my penis. And I like to think that it likes me. We're good together. But I always could write a stranger. Like in Mary and Max.

It's almost midnight. I think I am going to ask out that girl. Maybe not tomorrow, or even the day after that, but when the time is right. I'm not just going to stuff my hands in my pockets, tell her good night, drive home, and then bang my head against the Jennifer's Body poster in my room like I usually do. I'm going to kiss her. Then I'm going to go home, look at myself in the mirror, and think to myself, "I'd do that guy."

I think I better end this post. I'm making a fool out of myself. I don't think I'm going to do a movie quote today. Instead, watch the entire Freaks and Geeks series up to Episode 16. Then we can watch the last two together. You'll thank me.

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

You Know What's Hot? Politics!

This isn't going to be a post about politics, though. Ha, I got you all worked up into a lather! Look at you guys, all lathery! I hate politics. Politicians are a load of oversized babies who stayed inside and talked to their moms all the time when they were kids while all of the other kids were outside playing baseball or chase and now they're taking it out on society. Wanna get something done? Hire Batman. Perhaps you've heard of him. He's a superhero.

Well, I have today and tomorrow off for Fall Break. I know a lot of you may be scoffing like "What!?!?!? Fall Break? We don't get Fall Break!" But I go to private school, my children, private school. You know what they do to us at private school? They put us each in a dark, cold prison cell all by ourselves, and they starve us and torture us until we get smart. Sometimes it works, but many times it doesn't. Those times it does work, you get doctors, lawyers, and businessmen. Those times it doesn't work, you get homeless people, serial killers, and meth-addicted performance artists.

So we deserve our breaks. I've been on an insane schedule. Here's what I do. I wake up at 3 in the morning, take half an hour to get ready, drive four hours to my school over in Alabama, go to school for nine hours, drive four hours back home, work on homework for just under six hours, and then I go to be usually around 2:55 in the morning. You read that right. I get five minutes of sleep every night. Yeah, I think I deserve a little four-day weekend, don't you think?

We were trying to drive down to the beach for three days, but about two weeks ago my dad got pneumonia. He had to stay in the hospital for about a week. We visited him every day, and he was pretty sick. The saddest part was watching him try to eat applesauce. I wish I was joking, but I'm serious. I turned away--I just couldn't watch. He took this week off of work. And we didn't want to leave him at home while we were at the beach. (Well, we did actually. But he protested. He whined a lot. It was embarrassing to witness.)

So we're not going to the beach. Which makes me sad, because I LOVE going to the beach. Not the beach itself. The ocean. I'm not one of those insufferable white-ass yuppies who has a lake house and a beach house and flies to Charleston every other weekend. I just haven't been to the beach in two years, and I feel so at peace when I'm near the ocean. It talks to me, you know. Whispers things. Dirty things. It tells me I'm its little slut. And I have to do what it says and like it. I don't like it, mama! I don't like it!

Yeah, so we decided to just stay home. Which is cool. I can have some time to myself. "Christopher time." Which means a lot of masturbation and top-secret viewing of romantic comedies. Perhaps both at the same time. Edit: most likely both at the same time.

I got my flu shot today at about 8:30 in the morning. The nurse stabbed me with the needle and I was like "Mm...that's some good heroine." And her eyes widened and she was like "This isn't heroine. You're getting a flu shot!" And I said, "What a strange day I'm having!" And we had a good laugh. Then she was all finished and so I dropped my pants.

And she said hurriedly, "Oh, no, you don't have to do that. This is just a flu shot, so you're already done. No check-up necessary." And I just rolled my eyes and laughed and said, "Get on yo kneeeees, bitch."

Also, I've started reading the Harry Potter series again. By now some of you are probably thinking either that's kind of weird or that I'm doing it for nostalgic reasons. Actually, the first one is true. I've read the Harry Potter series numerous times in my life. In fact, more times than I'm willing to admit. And Harry Potter swoops in to save me when I'm in peril. I'm in peril right now. As many of you know, high school sucks vagina. I need Harry Potter now more than ever.

I was one of those kids who stayed up late on his eleventh birthday waiting for the acceptance letter from Hogwarts to be delivered via owl post. When that didn't happen, I went kind of emo. I listened to death metal, dyed my hair black, got my nipples pierced, stole, set things on fire, and played violent video games from dawn until dusk. Needless to say, I was a pretty messed up fourth grader.

But the Harry Potter books have always been a sanctuary for me. Hogwarts is a place for me to go to when I just can't stand being such a scrawny-ass nerd boy anymore. My parents say I'm obsessed--just because of that one time when I tried to carve a lightning bolt scar into my forehead with a kitchen knife, but they just don't understand. I am Harry Potter. And Harry Potter is me. We are one. And I don't want to take anymore medicine. I don't like the medicine.

On a side note, I've hit a dry spot with bands. Any band suggestions? I've tried to turn to indie rock once again to rescue me from this music-less abyss, but there are so many BAD indie bands out there. It's hard to find good ones. If you have anything to suggest, whether it be a classical composer, a 60's band, or an indie rock band, please do. Hopefully something kind of chill.

Last Monday I was walking to Math, going over equations in my mind in preparation for the test, when my old English teacher--who's about in her late sixties--from freshman year walked up behind me. She said, "Hello, Mr. Kennedy." I said, "Oh, hi! How are you?" She said good, and we walked for a while in silence. Then she took a deep breath and said, "Christopher, they don't want me to tell you this, but I'm your mother." And I was like wow this is amazing it's my long-lost mother! So we hugged, crying and laughing in each other's arms.

Then big men in bulletproof vests came and pulled her away from me. She just kept laughing and shrieking, "Mama's little boy! Give mama some sugar!" And I waved goodbye and cried. I hope I get to see her again soon. I miss my mama.

Movie Quote of the Day: "We're here to fuck shit up!" -Dale Doback, Stepbrothers

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Yet Another List of Things I Strongly Dislike

1. People who talk in Spanglish. Spanglish is for gringos and bitches who are trying to show off their embarrassingly limited knowledge of Spanish by incorporating phrases like "Me gusta" and "Hasta la vista" into normal English sentences. If any of you ever talk in Spanglish, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!! Shoo! Shoo! You disgusting vermin.

2. People at school dances who try to encourage the wallflowers to dance. If we're hanging out by the punch bowl or even just looking a little lonely, mind your own fucking business and keep to yourself. They think they're the goddamn Savior coming to rescue us from the fiery pits of Tartarus. They think they're the goddamn stars of fucking High School Musical. What if I don't want to dance? Can you get that into your thick fucking skull! And what's more--don't fucking touch me.

3. Justin Bieber. That sonufabitch needs to get off his high horse and realize he's not Jesus Christ. I'm not one of those people who's like "I think Justin Bieber should be skinned, drowned, and then have his insides roasted over a fire." But he does kind of annoy me. Did you know he applied to my school last year? Yeah, there are some juniors at my school who played football with him while he was touring our school and they said he was a prick. I don't think he should be tortured and then killed, but I wish he'd get rid of that look in his eyes like, "I am so amazing."

4. That guy who called me a "bubble butt" in middle school.

5. People who make incest jokes addressed to me and my triplet siblings. No, that really happens. I'm not even joking. And it's the most awkward, gross thing ever. You wouldn't believe how many incest jokes we get. And it's been happening probably since I was like eleven-years-old. Mostly kids, but some adults too. Last year, this creepy guy at our church found our sister's jacket and asked us if we would bring it to her. We said, "Yeah, we'll give it to her." He chuckled and said, "Watch out. It sounds like you're about to gang-bang your sister." I'm not even joking. He said that. I couldn't look her in the eye for days. People ask us ALL the time, "What's the worst part about being a triplet?" One day I'm just going to give in and tell them, "The incest jokes."

6. Rodney Dangerfield. I just don't understand the appeal. Yeah yeah yeah, he don't get no respect. I get the fucking point. Now why don't you shut your mouth and go ruin some other Bill Murray movie.

7. People who are good at everything. Do you know anyone like that? For instance, the Vice President of the Senior Class last year was not only the Vice President, he was also an excellent student, a Thespian, a member of the tennis team, and editor of the school's literary magazine. AND he was openly gay. I mean, how is that even allowed? You hate them, but you can't tell anyone that because they're nice and likable. Makes me sick to my stomach.

8. Dubstep. It is such a big, fucking joke. I'm sorry to those of you who like dubstep, because I know that to some people it's like the best thing since color television, but I do not see what the big deal is. No. Not only that. It's hilarious. It is just SO bad. If the Beatles were Jesus, Dubstep would be the Antichrist.

9. Homophobes. I wish I could put all of THEM in a cage.

10. I strongly dislike Tracy Morgan. He really gets under my skin. One minute I'm laughing my ass off at 30 Rock, then I'm on my hands and knees looking for it, and THEN I'm screaming bloody hell at the television because Tracy Morgan just came on.

11. Girls who say "OMG I just LOVE Regina Spektor" even though they've only heard the songs Fidelity and The Call. Yeah, you know who you are. Confess your sins and maybe God will forgive you--or else you will face eternal damnation in hell.

12. Vanessa Bayer. She's the newest girl on the SNL cast. I just don't think she's funny. She's the opposite of funny, in fact. I thought the SNL skit El Shrinko was like the funniest thing ever, but then she came on and I punched a hole in the wall.

13. Patriotic people.

14. Californians who don't keep their promises.

15. How big my nose is.

16. Amps that are so loud you can't hear the actual music. Also, as a bonus: the fact that the Music Midtown Festival was yesterday and I REALLY wanted to go because Cage the Elephant, the Black Keys, and Coldplay were ALL there but the tickets were like $100. So I'm sad. But also: really loud amps.

17. Annoying little shits named Davis who follow me around everywhere, try to pants me, and ask me if I watch porn. Actually, his name is Davis. I changed it because I don't want to be charged with libel. Is that what libel is? I'm not sure. But yeah, there is this really annoying kid who does all of those things in my Youth Group. He's in middle school. God, I hate middle schoolers. They're like fruitflies.

18. Black censor bars. ALTHOUGH, on second thought, have you seen that College Humor video Censor Bar Art? I'm too lazy to link to it, but it's really cool. And hot. Mostly cool, though. And mostly hot.

19. Ke$ha. She needs to shake her ass a little more and open her mouth a little less. Sorry, was that sexist? I didn't intend it that way. That wasn't a slur against women in general--just her. Because she has a hot ass, but she's not a good singer. I'm really not sexist. Really, I'm not. I'm $exist!!!

20. My fucking headaches.

21. Last one. Twenty one. The big 2-1. Let me think. Um...I think...maybe...oh! I know! Public school kids who are racist against private school kids. As a private schooler, I resent that. I can sympathize, because if I myself was a public schooler (which I probably could never be), I would probably want to beat the shit out of me too. But hey, cool it a little bit, would you? It's not our fault we're walking rape-targets who have everything served to us on a silver platter. Wait, yes it is. Sorry.

On a much much much much much much much much much much much much happier note, I think I've finally found the girl of my dreams! Don't worry, she's not like the last sixteen girls of my dreams. Not at all. This one is AMAZING. She goes to my Church, she's two years older than me but much shorter, she's Dutch, she listens to Gogol Bordello and the Beastie Boys, she has amazing blue eyes and the softest blonde hair you've ever tasted, she has this cool younger brother who is coincidentally also Dutch, she's hilarious, she's into hippie stuff, and she has awesome feet.

I'm thinking about asking her out. It sucks, though, about living in Atlanta, because everyone I know lives at least a thirty minutes drive away. And she lives like an hour away. So I don't know how that would work. But she is just so amazing. This is going to sound really corny, but I don't care because it's really true: I feel fantastic when I'm around her. I get into this great mood. When she hugged me today, I didn't let go. I just held on. Even when she beat my back and started screaming for help, I didn't let go. She makes me feel so special.

Also, most importantly, she told me that my sunglasses and my long-sleeve worked really well together fashion-wise. I bristled with pride. I'll post a picture because in addition to my sexy sunglasses and my beautiful ears, I want you to see that the shirt I'm wearing because OMG it's the same shirt that this random guy is wearing from the video of Ben Folds covering "Sleazy." Awesome shirt. But yeah, I got it from Target. The guy comes in at 52 seconds in case anyone of you actually want to go see it.



Do you guys get pissed that really the only photos I post are either of my cats or me making weird faces in the dark? I hardly ever get to take pictures because I'm literally the only one in my family who does not have a camera. Sorry about that. So yeah, that was my last one. Pinky swear.

I hope this blog post finds you well. I'm not wearing a shirt right now. Just thought I'd let you know.

Speaking of which, you may have noticed that I didn't post the second half of yesterday's post. I may do it later, I may not. That's just how I am. One day I might write an editorial on my view of gun rights. The next day I post a video of myself dancing naked to a dubstep song. Yeah, I know, dubstep. I was surprised too.

Have you guys seen Bugsy Malone? I've become obsessed with it. I also watched a series on YouTube called "After They Were Famous" about what happened to all of the stars after they were done with the movie. And it was SO fascinating and funny and happy. It was probably the highlight of the week. Yeah, I already know that's sad. Don't bother telling me.

ALSO. If you're reading this and you're Julia from I Wish I Were British, I just thought I'd let you know that the reason I haven't commented on your blog for a while is because blogger isn't letting me. It's really weird. But it may be for the best, because I was going to post a kinda creepy comment on your newest post. Rave outfit? Hotness! But yeah, the same applies for some of you other guys too. Blogger is such a scrotum.

Movie Quote of the Day: "I like you temporarily!" -Dog, Up

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Saturday, September 24, 2011

So You Wanna Be a Boxer, Part 1 of 2 (The Devil Is In the Air)

Shawsin, Massachusetts was a nice little village full of God-fearing Puritans, and all in all it was a perfectly decent place to live. Everyone went to Church, everyone did their fair share of work, and there was usually enough food to go around. Sure, there were some disagreements over land, and the work was certainly hard, but it was a pretty honest, nice little town. That is, until the winter of 1689.

The Parker family gathered around their daughter, Bessie, who was lying motionless in bed, white as a ghost. She, a girl of eleven years, had been unresponsive for the past several days, and the Parkers were very distressed. She had not talked, sat up, or even opened her eyes in three days.

Goody Parker rapped sharply on Bessie's forehead, saying, "Knock knock? Bessie? You in there?"

Mr. Parker put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Knocking on her forehead can't help her now. I'm afraid it's too late for that."

Allison, Bessie's seventeen-year-old cousin who was known for bending the truth, turned toward her uncle. "What do ya mean, Uncle?"

Mr. Parker turned sharply toward her. "You know very well what I mean, Allison! I saw you and your cousin in the woods! I saw what you were doing!" he bellowed, causing his wife and two sons to shrink away from him in fear.

"We were only eating grapefruit, Uncle," she whimpered.

"GRAPEFRUIT!!!" he roared. "The forbidden fruit!"

Allison burst into tears.

"We just wanted a taste," she sobbed.

"A taste indeed," he said, turning back to his daughter. "You two were conjuring up spirits--that I know for certain. Why else would Bessie faint upon seeing me?"

"She didn't faint, Uncle. You jumped from the trees wearing a cape and a crown made of thorns and beat her with a stick until she fell unconscious," Allison reminded him.

"The devil was in her!!!" Mr. Parker shouted, banging his fist against the bedpost.

Before Allison could respond, however, a tall, dark man entering the room, wearing a long cloak with a lowered hood that cast a shadow over his long, gaunt face.

"Someone called a vampire zombie hunter?" he growled almost inaudibly. "Reverend Dale at your service."

Shocked, everyone in the room turned to look at Mr. Parker. He blushed slightly and frowned. "We're running out of options here," he said.

"If I may ask, Mr. Parker, what makes you suspect your daughter and niece of zombie vampirism?" Dale inquired solemnly.

"I found them eating grapefruit in the woods, Reverend," he replied.

Dale's eyes widened. "You permit your daughters to eat grapefruit?" he asked in amazement.

"IT IS NOT PERMITTED," Parker answered indignantly. "It is strictly prohibited!"

Dale paused. "Are there any other reasons for your suspicions, Mr. Parker?"

Mr. Parker looked uneasy. "I, uh, well, several weeks ago I caught my daughter Bessie flying."

The rest of the Parker family looked much more surprised than Reverend Dale, who retained his composure as he said calmly, "Flying, Mr. Parker?"

Mr. Parker nodded quickly. "Yes yes, flying. She just jumped out the window one night and flew away into the darkness. I haven't mentioned it until now because I was worried she would suck my blood or cast a spell on me or the like."

The family was silent. Reverend Dale nodded. "Anything else? Please do not hold anything back, Mr. Parker."

Mr. Parker paused and then added, "Last week I caught her eating a brain up in her bedroom. I don't know where she got it. I was too afraid to ask her. But she was definitely eating a brain."

Bessie sat up in her bed. "I was NOT eating a brain!" she cried indignantly. The whole family gasped. Goody Parker rushed forward to embrace her daughter.

Mr. Parker blushed and said hurriedly, "Of course a vampire zombie would say that."

Reverend Dale observed Bessie for a moment, peered at the rest of the family as well, and said, "I've made my decision. I am certain that both Bessie and Allison are vampire zombies, and they need to be executed immediately before the rest of the town is contaminated."

All of the children froze. Goody Parker, Allison, and Bessie burst into tears. The boys rushes forward to hug their father. Mr. Parker, who usually never permitted his children to touch him, didn't move or say anything. He stared at Reverend Dale.

"Surely there is some other way..." he said weakly.

"There is no other way. They must be tortured, hanged, and burned. But first, they must be deflowered by an ordained minister."

"Deflowered by an ordained minister?" said Mr. Parker suspiciously.

Reverend Dale narrowed his eyes. "There will be no further questions."

TO BE CONTINUED

Movie Quote of the Day: "Yeah, well, that may be. But at least I never slept with Lumbergh." -Peter Gibbons, Office Space

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Friday, September 23, 2011

Aaaaaaaah Nicolai Is Back and He's Hungry for Brains!!!!

I know you guys are sick and tired of The Blogging Survey Named Nicolai. For some reason, none of you were as amused by it as I was. I will tell you that I have a lot of seriously fantastic blog posts in the making, but I have to let them ferment so it might take a while. IN THE MEAN TIME, I thought I might MYSELF answer the Blogging Survey Named Nicolai. For those of you who just can't bring yourselves to read that, here's a hilarious picture of the Cookie Monster. If you make it that far, you can pat yourself on the back and then go home. Thanks for reading.



1) Please state your name for the record?

To my friends, I'm Chris. To my family, I'm Topher. To my enemies, I'm Puke Face. To my cats, I'm Meow. But to me, I am and will always be Lord Awesome Dude. Which is my name. So yeah, you can call me that from now on.

2) If you were a penguin, on the other hand, what do you think your name would be? Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Reginald.

3) Would you consider your ears to be smaller than average, average, larger than average, or freakishly large?

Freakishly large. Kids at school used to call me mean names like Dumbo and Eeyore. Stuff like that. When I went to sleep, my brother and sister would hide a number of small objects in my cavernously large ears just to prove that they could. I had to wake up every morning and pull out everything they had hidden there, crying softly from humiliation and shame. It was something I don't think I'll ever recover from.

4) Are you more of a Beatles or an Elvis fan? (If you answer the latter, please proceed to go set yourself on fire and then die in a hole.)

You know what Elvis was? He was a big, fat, racist greaseball. What? He's so amazing because he can shakes his hips a little? I don't think so. Why was everyone so amazed by his "look?" Sunglasses? Yeah, big deal--he had overly-sensitived retinas. And the hair? I'm not even sure that all of that was his hair. I'm thinking he just had a bizarrely shaped head. Sideburns? Big deal. You know who had sideburns WAY before Elvis was around? Wolverine.

5) Have you ever killed anyone? If so, did you do it with your bare hands?

I killed a man. With THIS thumb. ;)

(If only a winking emoticon could be the proper way to cite a quotation. Instead of all of that bibliography and parenthetical documentation shit, just do this: ;). And maybe an LOL for good measure.)

6) If you could use any fruit to describe the size and shape of your head, what fruit would you use?

Potato.

Wha? You got somethin to say?

7) Is there any famous person you'd go gay for? Please state their name. This question is, of course, purely for academic purposes.

Rick Perry.

8) If you had the choice, would you rather go to space, meet Paul McCartney, scuba dive in the Pacific Ocean, or sleep with Carmen Electra?

First I would definitely go to space. Then I would go scuba diving. Then, probably, meet Paul McCartney. Surprisingly, Carmen Electra would probably be last. I mean, I don't know where that thing has been.

9) How long have you had your blog? What made you start one?

This blog was started in January of 2010. The voices told me to do it.

10) What is your weirdest phobia?

I'm actually afraid of sleep. You better believe it. It was a lot worse when I was little, though, so I have gotten better. But the idea of not being conscious--not being able to think--is more terrifying than anything I could ever imagine. For me, sleep gives me a taste of nonexistence.

Also, I have pretty fucked up dreams sometimes. I don't want to share them, because you could probably have me committed. Really. Although I will tell you that the most notable of them involves elements such as Zachary Levi, fluffy pink handcuffs, and peanut butter.

11) Do you believe in God?

The question is: you do God in believe?

12) If you could start a collab. blog with any four bloggers, which ones would you do it with?

Now I see why you guys were uncomfortable answering this question. I don't really know. Anyone I would form a blogging team with would have to be able to be able to stand my overwhelming weirdness, would have to listen to good music, and would have to have seen Fight Club. With those qualifications in mind, I would probably go with Jennelle, Gabi, Boyd, and RainboRevolver. Sorry, guys. Father Christopher has selected you for his flock. May God have mercy on your souls.

If you were trapped on a desert island with the same four bloggers you mentioned in the last question, which one would you eat first? With which one would you procreate?

I would eat Boyd because in my experience bass guitarists usually taste delicious. (That's what she said.) Then I would probably just procreate with myself (implying masturbation), but I'd make the rest of them watch.

Was that too much? Felt like too much. Why'd I write this question?

14) What's your favourite 80's movie?

Better Off Dead.

15) What kind of music do you listen to?

Ha ha ha HA. Bitch. Don't even. Don't even.

16) Imagine that you open your bedroom closet one day and suddenly a portal opens up. You can't see what is at the end of the portal, but there is a totoro inside it motioning you to follow him. Would you go inside, even if it might mean you'll never come back?

I was actually really interested to hear all of your answers to this question, and I found ALL of them to be PROFOUNDLY DISAPPOINTING. I thought long and hard about it, and I think that I would.

17) If you're a woman, do you find facial hair on men attractive? If you're a man, do you find facial hair on woman attractive?

Yes. Yes I do.

18) Do you like babies?

Only the sound of them crying.

19) What's the most violent thing you've ever done to an inanimate object?

Any of you who read this blog last Easter when I talked about what I did to my sister's cell phone will know the answer to this question. Yeah, I deleted that post. I don't want those photographs to be used against me when I run for President in twenty years.

20) What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?

So many embarrassing things have happened to me in my life. My life is an embarrassment. Amazingly, it's probably not the story I told in the post below. It's probably not when I told that girl she had beautiful eyes and then had to stand there for two minutes like a total prick while she talked to that other guy. It's probably not when my whole homeroom class sang Happy Birthday to me in middle school and I turned really red and then someone shouted out "Look how red he's turning" and I turned even more red. It's probably not when I accidentally called my Pre-K teacher "Mom." It's probably not when in middle school I left a message on a girl's phone telling her I liked her but then when I saw her the next week, I was too embarrassed to even mention it. It's probably not when in Youth Group a few years ago, I said that the famous prophet of the Muslim religion was not "Muhammad" but "Muhammad Ali." It's probably not even when I went to my first birthday party in the city of Atlanta in first grade and watch the other kids give the birthday boy footballs, basketballs, and video games only to--par my mother's suggestion--give him a Max Steel action figure. I don't know what it is. It's all of these things. And none of them.

21) Do you think the world will end in 2012?

Not if Barrack Obama can help it.

22) Have you enjoyed this survey? Be honest, now.

Not really. Sorry I made you go through with this guys. I'm gonna go eat some paint chips and watch Doctor Who.

23) Are you following The Nerd Archives? If not, DO YOURSELF THE FAVOUR OF DOING SO NOW!!!!

Yeah yeah yeah buddy. Why don't you calm down and use your inside voice. You're a sixth grader. You've got to start acting like one.

On a side note, is it more important to you guys that I respond to your comments or that I blog more frequently. You can only choose one, because one has to represent the red pill and one has to represent the blue pill. Not really though. I just want to know if it's even worth it responding to your comments because I don't know whether or not you even read my responses.

Movie Quote of the Day: "I love my dead gay son!" -Father, Heathers

Cheers,
That Blond Guy

Great "That's What She Said" Moments I Noticed This Week

"Wow, it's much harder than I thought it would be."

"I dare you to touch it."

"Stick it to me."

"Hold it by the shaft."

"If I coated it with chocolate icing, would you lick it off?"

"I'm really hard right now."

"I get off by watching YouTube videos of giraffes mating."

"Why is all of this white sticky stuff coming out of my penis?"

"Stroke it a little bit and maybe it will get hard."

"No it's not infected! Why did you say that? What makes you say that?"

"Is it legal to do it like that?"

"Would you mind wearing this bag on your head before we do it?"

"This juice tastes delicious! What's in it? Do I detect cranberry? Pomegranate?"

"Mm...it's so nice and warm in here!"

"What are those? What did you put in there? Are those...teeth? RRRRAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!"



Anyway, I hope you enjoyed those. Sorry about my lack of posting. I'll try to post againt tomorrow and Sunday. I haven't had a great last week. I contemplated suicide. But then I thought that would probably look terrible on my college apps.

So yeah, I was in a bad mood for probably about a solid 120 hours. But then I found this song from the movie Bugsy Malone: "You Give a Little Love." It's where that Coke commercial comes from! The one where the Grand Theft Auto guy buys a Coke and then he's nice to everyone. Anyway, I listened to the song and then I was happy again. If you're going to say something mean, don't bother saying anything at all.

Did you know Jodie Foster was in that movie when she was like nine? Yeah, I think that's really weird. You can see her in that clip, although her face is covered in pie. Jodie Foster is really hot. Not in that movie, of course. I'm not a pedophile. But now she is. And did you know she's a lesbian? I just discovered that about nineteen seconds ago. I never knew that. But yeah, now she's even hotter.

Movie Quote of the Day: "Do you like fried chicken?" -Billy Kramer, Kramer vs Kramer

Cheers,
That Blond Guy