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

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

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

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

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

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