Thursday, April 28, 2011

Daily Story 170 - Delayed Reaction

So yesterday morning I took my shirt off to keep it from getting wet as I washed my hair in the sink (I don't like the dorm showers at the moment due to being a neurotic crazy person) and left it off as I worked on other things. I took the towel off from my hair after a while and kept working, and then about half an hour after I'd washed my hair, I looked down and wondered when I'd taken my shirt off, as I didn't recall being particularly sweaty that morning.

About forty-five minutes later, after I'd put on a different shirt and headed out to class, I was thinking about the shirt I was wearing and remembered that I'd taken my shirt off because I'd washed my hair in the sink.

My brain does stupid things sometimes.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Daily Story 169 - Yarrrrrrrrrrr

I be a pirate. Yargh.

Daily Story 168 - The Count of Your Face

Ha ha I just made a joke about your face. Laugh now.


Daily Story 167 - This Counts as a Real Story

I am about to graduate from college. I have a 20-30 page paper due in 19 or so hours (this story is late by 3 days or so as I wrote it on the 27th). I'm not exactly good at writing right now. PLEASE FORGIVE ME I AM SORRY I HAVE A LIFE.

Daily Story 166 - Writer's Block

I hate how

I hate it when I have a good idea for a story but I forget what it is by the time I get around to writing it down.

Something about thoughts occurring to me...
mental illness...

what was it

lots of my stories involving sleep...
people sharing it

someone famous i respect linking to it...


let's just wait and see if it occurs to me. If not, this will be the story for today, but if so, you probably won't read any of this. Or maybe you will. We'll see.

No I don't wear pants
slap those thighs

fire ants

Daily Story 165 - Conan's Beard

I can't grow a beard. I have a very limited amount of facial hair growth going on, and it consists of two small patches of semi-visible hair on the corners of my upper lip, as well as a solitary dark hair that grows on my chin and drives me so insane whenever I feel it growing in again that I can't concentrate on anything else until I get it pulled out. I would love to grow a full-on beard, but my facial hair just doesn't cooperate, most likely due to the fact that I am female and thus am hormonally challenged.

Conan, on the other hand, has a nice beard. It makes me jealous, but at the same time I am at peace, due to the fact that I can very easily live out my bearded fantasies through his beard. It's as though his beard knows of my plight and is living a fantastic life of bearditude for me.

Will Ferrell has no right to crush my hopes and dreams like that. Seriously. My life is hard enough as it is.

Daily Story 164 - Followup Letter

Dear Montana,

Remember when I wrote to you in February? Story 87? Yeah. I still stand by what I said back then.

If I ever find out how I can stab the ADD-like weather patterns out of you, I will.

All the best from your deeply disappointed bestest friend,


Daily Story 163 - Euthanasia Coaster

So apparently there is a roller coaster design in existence that could hypothetically kill you with its intensity. It's being called a euthanasia-coaster because you feel sheer euphoria while riding it.

I don't like this idea at all. I wrote the following on facebook but I don't think it conveys just how deeply I am deeply disturbed by this thing: "I feel like this will someday result in some crazy rich person making a euthanasia-coaster on their huge estate and convincing guests it's a normal roller coaster so they'll ride it because this crazy rich person is also a serial killer. I don't care if this sounds implausible, I'm paranoid about everything and I really don't want to be murdered by a roller coaster."

It gets worse. See, crazy rich people's estates are easy enough to avoid, but what about amusement parks? If a crazy rich person decides to sneak one of these euthanasia-coasters into an amusement park, it could do horrible, horrible things to so many innocent people. Especially if they somehow manage to cover up the deaths which I know for a fact crazy rich people are more than capable of doing. Or maybe that's just the paranoia speaking, but WHAT IF IT'S NOT PARANOIA AND THIS REALLY HAPPENS? WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE AT THE HANDS OF CRAZY RICH PEOPLE WHO LIKE TO MURDER PEOPLE BY TRICKING THEM INTO THINKING THEY ARE HAVING FUN.

Not only that, but what if this euthanasia-coaster is built and people don't actually believe the whole euthanasia bit? People will die because they can't read a fucking warning sign and yes maybe we're better off because of natural selection and all that but PEOPLE ARE STILL GOING TO DIE. Or what if one of these stupid people decides to drag me along with them? I don't want my moments on this earth to be spent arguing with someone who's convinced I'm being a baby and forced into a death trap that everyone else thinks is fun but I know is GOING TO FUCKING KILL ME.

It would make an interesting horror movie - a group of friends is invited to test out the world's ultimate roller coaster one at a time, but by sheer accident, one of them finds out the truth... in an optional twist ending, it turns out the one person survives the ride but is then eaten by the roller coaster because it is actually alive and it likes to eat people. I'm not really sure how I got from people dying from the intensity to roller coasters with giant gaping mouths at the end, though.

Daily Story 162 - Octopus on the Run

(I do believe my sister had an experience very much like this when she was teaching in South Korea. I can't remember if it was an octopus or a squid, but I am taking some creative liberties here because I can.)

Once upon a time a happy little octopus was bouncing around on an underwater trampoline because those things totally exist. All of a sudden, it was captured by a bunch of evil fishermen who took it to a fish market. The little octopus was scared, and it did not like the little old Korean woman who was sitting over the bucket it was trapped, so the little octopus decided to escape. It knew the sea was close, so it climbed out of the bucket and flopped its tentacles on the road to propel itself as far away from that little old Korean lady who wanted to sell it to someone who would kill it and eat it. But the little old Korean lady was quick. She stood, grabbed the nearest long, wooden object she could find, and chased after the little octopus. The little octopus hurried as fast as it could, but the little old Korean lady caught up and beat the little octopus into submission. The little octopus was then sold to someone who used it for dinner, and the last minutes of the little octopus's life were filled with fear and despair.

Daily Story 161 - Nyan

Nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyannyannyan nyannyan nyan nyan, nyan nyan Nyannyan nyan nyannyan nyannyannyan nyan nyannyan nyannyannyannyan nyan nyannyan nyan nyan. Nyannyannyan nyan nyannyan nyannyannyannyannyan nyan nyannyan nyan nyan nyan nyannyan nyannyan nyan? Nyannyannyannyan nyannyan nyan. Nyan!

Daily Story 160 - I Hate Stabby Farts

They are painful and annoying and I hate them. Please stop it, digestive system. I am annoyed.

You know what I'm talking about. You've experienced stabby farts yourself. I know you have. It is a fact.

Death to stabby farts.

Daily Story 159 - What Just Happened

Once upon a time there were three cats who meowed a lot. The kleenex box did not like this, so it hit the cats over the head with a baseball bat until they shut up. But this made the lamp sad, so the book helped the lamp come up with a revenge scheme.

But then the wallet realized what was happening and warned the kleenex box and the SD card reader went to the closet's house and asked for help, because it was time for an all-out war between all the items on the desk. The desk was not happy about this, however, so it set everything on fire and went to go hang out with the cats at the hospital. Unfortunately, the cats were all dead.

And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

Daily Story 158 - The Toaster Movie

The brave little toaster was, in fact, a total douchebag.

Daily Story 157 - Shopping For Ceiling Fans

Ever wonder what it's like to be in love with your ceiling? Ever met someone who had a burning passion for ceilings of any kind? Did you know that 4%* of our population is made up of ceiling fans? And most importantly, did you know that these people have trouble shopping?

That's right. Our brand new show, Shopping For Ceiling Fans, takes you into the mind of a ceiling lover. See the world through the ceiling fan's eyes. See how they love to stare at the ceiling, see how they are absolutely fascinated by the ceilings found in most supermarkets - to the point where they don't pay attention to where they're walking at all. This fascinating documentary is a must-see for anyone facing possible ceiling-fanophilia. Airs tonight on ABCDEFG at 67:34 PM. Be there, or be symmetrically rectangular.

*Note: this statistic is not intended to be a factual statement.

Daily Story 156 - Revenge's Cheeseburger

Revenge was a sweet, sweet mistress. She was very kind to the man who had taken her as his mistress, and she was kind and charitable to all those around her. She was dainty as a feather, yet strong as an ox. She loved children and rainbows and puppies and education and the fight for equality for people of all races, religions, sexual orientations, and physical and mental conditions. She was beautiful and intelligent, and she had a delightful sense of humor. In short, she was wonderful, and she only had one weakness.

She loved cheeseburgers.

It was not simply love, however. It was sheer obsession. She craved cheeseburgers. She could not go a day without a cheeseburger, and may God help any pitiful fool who tried to get in the way of her cheeseburger. The one man who did...

Well, besides that one... rather disturbing flaw in her character, Revenge was a very wonderful, beloved individual.

Daily Story 155 - Lamp Ladder

One day, a small girl was very bored, so she got a bunch of lamps and decided to make something out of them. She had an attic in her house, and she had troubles getting up there because she was so small, so she decided to make the lamps into a ladder so she could climb up.

Unfortunately, the lamp ladder was not very stable, and after the girl got out of the hospital, she went home to find that her parents had replaced all the lamps with ceiling lighting that the girl, being as short as she was, would not be able to reach. The girl was disappointed that her parents changed the house while she was gone, but it wasn't a huge problem since she didn't really care for lamps anymore.

Daily Story 154 - For the Wheezygator

Are you a clone-eating alligator who just can't stop feeling empty?

Are you tired of being verbally attacked by angry clone fans?

Are you tired of being dependent on the technology of some bearded guy with bango face teeth?

If so, you should try our exciting new product!

Try Clonestitute!

Made by people who love clones but still feel sorry for hungry alligators, Clonestitute brings all the joys of saving clones together with the satisfaction of tasty clone flesh in your belly to create a super-awesome clone substitute!

We use only the finest products in our Clonestitute, and every single serving is 100% clone-free. This product is guaranteed to get angry clone-lovers off your back, and you'll probably even enjoy the way it tastes!

Clonestitute. Even if it's not as heavenly a taste as real clone flesh, it's a hell of a lot better than starving.

Daily Story 153 - Chair

Chair is built. Chair is taken to warehouse. Chair is sold to store. Chair is sold at store. Chair is taken to home. Chair is used as a chair. Chair is used as a step-stool. Chair is used as a magical fortress. Chair has good life. Chair is retired. Chair is happy. Chair is content with its life as a chair.

Daily Story 152 - Jenga

I blame the lateness of this story upon it. Though technically it has nothing to do with me playing it, and I don't think I actually watched any of angryaussie's Jenga games yesterday, but I refuse to be responsible for my own actions.

Daily Story 151 - Party Time

Things of a crazy nature were happening and it was AWESOME.

The children were running and playing while the adults put up streamers and balloons and graffiti and confetti and yes graffiti this was the badass part of town so shut up STOP JUDGING THEM THEY JUST WANT TO HAVE A PARTY. Jeez... killjoy.

Daily Story 150 - My Floss Is Sad and Old

My floss, as I recall, was purchased a long time ago, and it has been very good to me throughout its life as mint-flavored waxed string that cleans gunk out from between my teeth. However, I have noticed something strange about it lately. It seems to have acquired some taste that is very similar to pine resin. I am not sure how to feel about this, but for the most part I think I have settled on feeling incredibly uncomfortable. I do not want to throw my floss away, however. Looking at it now, I do not think that my floss could cope with the emotional torment of being tossed aside like junk. Perhaps it would be best if I set it free in the wild, so that it might roam the snowy fields of Montana with happy, simple joy...
...Never mind. It did not seem to appreciate the cold, so I have delayed its departure into the wilderness.

Daily Story 149 - Guh

Once upon a time, Susie and Wilfred went for a walk through the park and sang merry songs about life. It was wonderful.

Daily Story 148 - The Chopper

Things were like a big balloon of fishsticks before the chopper arrived. If you don't know what a big balloon of fishsticks is like, then let me tell you. It is big, balloony, and it reeks of fishsticks, which is okay for a little while if you like fishsticks, but even then, it gets real old real fast. The chopper was an interesting person. He liked to chop things, and there were many things that needed chopping in that little town. Like people. And by people I mean logs. Yes. Tree logs. And also some dead people, as the town's burial traditions did involve chopping up the deceased's body so that it could be cremated in several different places at once. That way, the spirit of the deceased could spread throughout the land much more quickly, and thus do a better job of protecting the people of the town.

So that probably explains why things were like a big balloon of fishsticks. I don't recall what fishsticks smell like, but I imagine the smell of dead bodies is similar (hey, I hate the smell of fish and I hate the smell of dead bodies, so that's similar enough for me), and I hear corpses get a little bloaty and... okay, that's enough talking about dead things. Let's talk about balloons now. They're pretty.

Anyway, the chopper was welcomed into the town and he chopped things very well. He didn't even chop anything he wasn't supposed to chop, like some guy's precious wooden sculpture or some girl's new baby. Chopping babies is bad, folks. Don't do it.

Daily Story 147 - This Song Will Probably Get me Committed

Kyle is an angry, spiteful little boy. If he was imprisoned somewhere by an evil person, he would probably get bored after a while and start singing something like this:

Fuck you in the neck
With a plas-tic spork
Because that would probably hurt a lot

That would be fun
And maybe it would also
Make you bleed from all of your orifices

Blood blood blood
Blood blood blood
Blood blood blood blood blood blood blood

Blood blood blood
Blood and gore
Spill your guts all over the floor

Blood blood blood
Bloody bloody blood
Bloody bloody bloody bloody blood blood blood

Bloody blood blood
Blood bloody blood
I hate you and I hope you die

You're an ass
Fuck your face
I'd like to see you ripped in two

Yes I would
That would be nice
You're a useless lump of flesh

Blood blood blood
Makes you think
Why'd I put my hand in the kitchen sink

Now you're crippled
Oh what joy
I just have to laugh at your misfortune

That's what you get
For trapping me here
I won't stop singing as long as you can hear

Blood blood blood
Blood blood blood
Blood blood blood blood bloody bloody blood

Bloody bloody blood
Bloody bloody blood
Bloody bloody bloody bloody blood blood blood

Daily Story 146 - Fantasies

I dream of going to bed before 11pm, and of waking up early and not feeling like a zombie because of it. I also dream of not being late on important paperwork and projects, and also less important paperwork and projects, and just not being late in general. And sometimes I dream of being able to turn into any animal I want. That would be awesome.

Daily Story 145 - Annoyances

You know what bothers me? Having such bad ADD that I can't manage to concentrate on anything that takes a fair amount of effort. Also, the fact that this takes a fair amount of effort. Why can't the world just let me be lazy?

Daily Story 144 - Still Catching Up

Words words words words words words words words words. Sentence. Letters that make up words that form sentences.


This takes too much effort.

Daily Story 143 - Catching Up

This is a story. These are words. Also letters. And sentences. And those other things that they can be considered to be. Yay.

Daily Story 142 - Once Upon a Time

Shit happened. And things were good. Or maybe not. It's open to interpretation.

Daily Story 141 - Queen of the Flies of Death

Flies are deadly at times, and relatively harmless at times, but there is one group of flies that is always deadly, and this group is called the Flies of Death. These flies are deadly in every sense of the word, unless you consider fluffy pillows to be deadly, in which case they wouldn't be the deadliest flies in every sense of the word, as these flies did not approve of fluffy pillows due to them being too small to appreciate the wonderfully soft fluffiness of fluffy pillows. They are still pretty frickin' deadly, though. These flies are governed by a monarchy, and the current monarch is a queen named Joanna. Joanna likes flowers and pretty things and she sort of looks like a bee but she is definitely a fly. She has been ruling the Flies of Death for a long time, and she has done an excellent job of it. By Flies of Death standards, at least. By our standards... well, most people don't really like Flies of Death so Joanna gets a lot of heat from the human community. She can deal with it, though. She's a tough Fly of Death.

Daily Story 140 - The Sleepy Writer

The sleepy writer was sleepy and didn't feel like finishing the story she'd planned to put up today, so she's going to tell a stupid joke and go to bed.

What do you call a pink elephant?

Nothing, they don't exist. Quit getting so drunk all the time, Dumbo. Jeez...

Daily Story 139 - Feeling is a Sad Thing

Feeling was not a very happy thing that morning. It wanted to be a happy thing, but it was a sad thing. So, instead of frolicking in the flowers the way it usually did when it was happy, it moped around in the graveyard for a while, then realized that the graveyard was a scary place so it decided to go to the cemetery instead, because cemeteries are, by definition, less scary than graveyards. Blame the media for that one, kids.

Feeling was not very sure why it was so sad, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Feeling's dog had just died and Feeling was broke and things just were not going very well for Feeling. It decided to go to the part for a while in the hopes that it would cheer up, but instead everyone at the park just started feeling a little mopey and depressed, which was not Feeling's intent, so Feeling went to a nearby bar, bought a few shots of tequila, and drank up. Feeling was pretty happy after that, so it went back to the park where everyone was still a little mopey and depressed, and soon everybody at the park was happy and lacking in hand-eye coordination.

So remember, kids, when in doubt, get drunk.

Daily Story 138 - Things That Happened

Some of them happened a lot. Some didn't. But they all happened.

Sunday, April 24, 2011


I realize there probably aren't many people following this blog as of yet, but for anyone who is, I'm sorry about the spammage of new posts and I swear I'll be finished soon. I'm almost caught up with the daily story reposts so it'll be better in a couple of days.

Daily Story 137 - The Clouds

Once upon a time there were some clouds.

The End

Daily Story 136 - I Can Write Songs Too

Woke up this morning
Got a phone call that I was expecting
Don't have to be at my
Therapist's 'till ten

Gonna sleep in now
Because I'm still tired
I like to sleep so I
Can be more awake later

Wake up at nine and
Go get some breakfast
I like toast and butter
It is so tasty

Then I went to the bathroom
And I washed my hands
You should wash your hands every
Time you go to the bathroom

Now it's time for catching up on websites
What's going on with my internet friends
I play games in the morning 'cause
It helps me to wake up more

It's Friday, Friday
Not like it makes any difference
I guess I'll have to work over the weekend
Because I'm behind on so much stuff

It's Friday, Friday
What am I supposed to do today
Oh yeah I've got a quiz today
And I need to read some Sigmund Freud

Studying, studying YEAH
Studying, studying YEAH
Boring, boring
Feeling so indifferent about the weekend

Okay, therapy went well
Now it's time to study
Wait what do I have to do
I have lots of stuff to do

Let's read some German
That'll be productive
Let's get it done, get a lot of it done
So maybe I can be smarter

Okay, time to get it done
Let's look up my assignments
Oh, yeah, that's what I need to do
Gotta read some of Sigmund Freud's book now

Oh wait it's not Freud today
Gotta read some of Osman Engin's work
Because he's a funny guy and my German class
Is all about German humor

Or at least one of them is
The other one's about German literature
From all the years of German history
That have happened since the time of the Roman Empire

It's Friday, Friday
Not like it makes any difference
I guess I'll have to work over the weekend
Because I'm behind on so much stuff

It's Friday, Friday
What am I supposed to do today
Oh yeah I've got a quiz today
And I need to read some Sigmund Freud

Studying, studying YEAH
Studying, studying YEAH
Boring, boring
Feeling so indifferent about the weekend

Oops, I'm really hungry
Gotta get down to lunch so
I can function for the rest of the day
I think I've got a quiz today, too

Yay the cafeteria had mini-pizzas
I can eat those without feeling really nauseous
So I'm not having to be a super-picky eater
Which is great don't you know how much I like it

Sitting in the classroom
Learning about history
Now it's all about humor
And we're talking in German

Done with class already
Now to get that form that I need to fill out
Because I haven't actually declared my minor
And I graduate in six weeks

Get on the computer
Talk to my friend from Greece
I should be doing homework
But I'd rather play Pokémon instead

It's Friday, Friday
Not like it makes any difference
I guess I'll have to work over the weekend
Because I'm behind on so much stuff

It's Friday, Friday
What am I supposed to do today
Oh yeah I've got a quiz today
And I need to read some Sigmund Freud

Studying, studying YEAH
Studying, studying YEAH
Boring, boring
Feeling so indifferent about the weekend

Doing nothing interesting for a few hours
Totally forgot to eat dinner
Whoops now I'm really hungry
And the dining hall's closed now

Okay this is getting boring
Describing all I did today
Especially doing it in song form
Screw this I'mma do something fun now

It's Friday, Friday
Not like it makes any difference
I guess I'll have to work over the weekend
Because I'm behind on so much stuff

It's Friday, Friday
What am I supposed to do today
Oh yeah I've got a quiz today
And I need to read some Sigmund Freud

Studying, studying YEAH
Studying, studying YEAH
Boring, boring
Relatively happy about the weekend

Daily Story 135 - Butts

Everyone has one. Well, I guess some people might not but they'd probably have something resembling one, or maybe not. I don't actually know. I'm probably offending cripples or something, too, except I don't think any cripples read my stories. If they do... hi! Sorry for offending you, even though I'm pretty sure I probably didn't. Hope you're having a nice day!

This story is officially stupid. Congratulations. Enjoy the cake.

Daily Story 134 - The Tired Zombie

The tired zombie was not like all the other zombies. While the others were busy hunting for brains, the tired zombie lay around moping and wishing it could just go to sleep and not have to deal with body parts constantly falling off and having to be sewn back on with pudding. Very, very old pudding.

The other zombies thought the tired zombie was pretty antisocial, which was true. The tired zombie didn't like being around other zombies because being social took energy that the tired zombie just didn't have. Eventually, it got sick of missing out on all the zombie fun, so it decided to start drinking coffee.

I have no idea if that worked for the tired zombie or not.

Daily Story 133 - Sleepy Head

The sleepy head was not very sleepy upon waking up at 4:30 a.m. after a nightmare. The sleepy head stumbled to the bathroom with squinty eyes because it was so bright in the hallway, then stumbled back and tried to fall asleep again, but the sleepy head failed to do so for an hour and a half. When the sleepy head's alarm went off at 7:30 a.m., the sleepy head woke up mid-dream and was a very sleepy sleepy head for the rest of the day. Luckily the sleepy head did not set anything on fire.

Daily Story 132 - Russian Taco

What would that be like? Would it be a regular taco prepared by a Russian, or would it have some kind of Russian food element in it? Would it be drenched in Vodka? Would it even be a taco? It could be anything. It could even be a Sad Box of Fruit Snacks. The possibilities are endless.

Daily Story 131 - Language

I've always wondered if the things I'm saying really mean what I think they mean. Or if gestures really suggest what I think they suggest. Or if emotions are really expressed like I think they're expressed. After all, I can only see things through my eyes, so who's to say I'm accurate in my assumptions of the actions of others?

Take smiling, for example. I smile when I'm happy or amused, or when I want someone to think I'm happy or amused. I do that because that's what a smile means. But what if I'm wrong? What if a smile is actually code for 'I hate you all, you bastards' and I'm offending everyone around me every time I do it? Sure, they might seem happy in return, but that's only because I think a smile means happy. They could be raging and I'm just interpreting their smile as happy because that's what it means to me.

Or even language, too. I think 'yes' is a positive affirmation and 'no' is a negative, denial-type word. But what if 'yes' means 'no' and 'no' means 'yes' and I've been going around doing all the things I'm not supposed to and everyone's pissed off at me but I don't know it because their methods of expressing emotion are the complete opposite of what I'm interpreting them to be?

It worries me sometimes that this could be the case, but then again, I'm pretty sure it isn't. Still, even if it is, it's not like it affects me because, after all, how am I supposed to tell the difference?

The best part is, if my theory is true, none of you reading this have any idea what I'm really talking about. For all I know, I could have just rambled for three paragraphs about how much I love fish (I hate fish as a food source, and am neutral to mildly positive on fish as wild animals or pets, though I was once obsessed with Finding Nemo and even dressed up as Nemo for Halloween as a Freshman in high school which was kind of weird but at least I was being creative). Or better yet, all you could be seeing is ;ohgtw tq3ktn.cvx ;l gb;joclk3,tegr sbdfxijl ,t egrdfv ;l.q3t aegrdzov ;xcjlk.ta ergzdo;vxihkn.te gsrdknt sgrdzlfh gdzfloj. And that last sentence is the only one that made any sense to you, even though to me it looks like I was just banging on my keyboard. Which is what I did but maybe that's how you people communicate. Hell if I know.

Oh, and I didn't mean 'banging' like the slang term for sexin' even though nobody probably took it that way but I thought about it so I decided to clarify because now you're going to have that mental image stuck in your head. At least, you will if this theory of mine is wrong, which I'm pretty sure it is but I have no way of finding out since if it is true, nothing I say is actually saying what I think it's saying and I have no way of finding out what everyone else is actually saying or thinking or feeling so I might as well keep on living life the way I know how to live it. If I'm right in all this and everything I do is actually offensive and horrible to you, then I apologize, but you probably just read that as 'go fuck yourself' so whatever.

Daily Story 130 - Dog Hat

There was once a dog. The dog made a hat out of leaves and gorilla hair. It was pretty, but the gorilla wasn't too happy. So, the dog gave the hat to the gorilla and left town, never to return. The gorilla's hair grew back eventually, and it didn't really care that it had driven away a beloved member of the community.

Daily Story 129 - The Joys of Translating

I once read an article talking about the Volkswagen with the kid dressed up as Darth Vader. Apparently since Vader's based off of Hitler and the term 'Volkswagen' is something Hitler came up with, that means Volkswagen was praising Hitler or something. Which got me wondering, do people realize just how generic the name 'Volkswagen' really is? What about all those other things from his time? Let's take a look at how some of these terms translate, shall we?

Volkswagen: people's car

Autobahn: highway (literal: car path)

Führer: captain or leader (could be a scout leader, too)

Lebensraum: living space

Mein Kampf: my fight

Reich: empire or realm (also an adjective meaning rich)

Sieg Heil: victory hail

So I guess what we can see here is that there is nothing all that interesting or unique about these terms unless you translate them into German. That makes me wonder if this ever happens:

German dude 1: So I just got into my people's car and rode down the highway to meet with my son's scout leader, but he couldn't talk for long since he was going to look at an apartment since his wife is pregnant and they need more living space than what they have.

German dude 2: Aw, that sucks. So how's the custody battle coming along?

German dude 1: Not so great. It'd be a lot easier if I were rich, then maybe I could afford a lawyer, but right now, it's my fight and nobody-

American who's just passing by: OH MY GOD THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT HITLER

Daily Story 128 - Green

Green is the color of Mr. Safety's hair.

Green is the color of the leaves in summer, and of the grass in winter, but only if you live in California or Hawaii or someplace where it's warm in the winter and people can afford to keep nice lawns.

Green is the color of that baby blanket I'm trying to make but I keep forgetting to work on it but maybe I'll work on it for a while now since I can't think of any other things to write about the color green at the moment.

Green is the color of spring because a lot of things turn green in the spring unless you live in Crested Butte where spring doesn't really start until June and the time that the rest of the world calls spring (unless you're in the southern hemisphere in which case you would call it fall) is actually more of a depressing mud season that causes half the population of the town to migrate to Mexico.

Green is the color of my pencil case.

Green is the color of many plants, though for most of these it is only part of the plant that green is the color of.

Green is the color of wings that have been dyed green.

Green is the color of St. Patrick's Day because Ireland has lots of green or something, I dunno.

Green is NOT the school color of the University of Notre Dame, which is kind of weird because they're the Fighting Irish and the Irish really like green for some reason though I guess their mascot is green so I guess that's close enough.

Green is the color that I like the most the majority of the time.

Daily Story 127 - Food Makes Me Nauseous

So I was one of those kids who really didn't like certain foods. A picky eater, if you will. But not just any picky eater. I was the kind of picky eater who would get intensely frustrated with anyone who tried to force me to eat foods I didn't like, and I absolutely hated anyone who nagged at me when I tried to selectively push certain kinds of food off to the side. I think what most people didn't get, though, was that I wasn't just being picky or whatever. Some foods just made me want to vomit. They still do, actually. Hell, I threw away an entire sandwich today because it was one of those that had been labeled 'marked down for quick sale' and my paranoid mind translated that as 'THIS SANDWICH IS POISONED IF YOU EAT IT YOU WILL GROW MOLD IN YOUR STOMACH' and though I tried to ignore that paranoia in an attempt to prove to myself that I could eat a sandwich and not die from it, I took a bite and the paranoia returned full-scale and I almost threw up in my mouth and I had to throw it away because I really didn't want to get sick even though it was fine and there was no reason to be nauseous but that just goes to prove my point that my food-eating abilities are very dependent on whether or not I start thinking 'oh gee this is kinda gross' because once I do I might as well just give up on eating for the day.

On the other hand, though, I really hate wasting food, which means there's a never-ending cycle that goes from 'oh hey this looks like good food' to 'oh no I'm too full/slightly weirded out/not actually in the mood for that' to 'oh hey that food's probably going to go bad soon I should eat it before then' to 'okay so I'm eating it now OH GOD IT COULD BE MOLDY/IT HAS A WEIRD TEXTURE I THINK I'M GOING TO BE SICK GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT' to 'well damn, there goes that idea, plus another $5 down the toilet' to 'I really need to stop buying foods I know I probably won't get to eat' to 'oh but I can probably manage to eat this, this looks like good food' and that is why I've eaten nothing but crackers and a thing of applesauce today (I did manage to swallow half a bite of sandwich and not puke it up, though).

Daily Story 126 - Beards

They are great. They are strong. They make boys into men, and men into manlier men. They are incredible, and it seems they are necessary for fame on youtube. However, while they may be great and exciting, there is a horrible truth behind the beard, one that we are all aware of but very few people truly understand.

That's right. I'm talking about beard sexism.

See, while beards are amazing and wonderful in so many ways, they scorn women's faces. No typical woman ever has a beard, and you know why? Because beards think they're too good for us. It is a rare beard that appears on a woman's face, and the few that do seem to be mocking the women they have chosen. After all, how many bearded women look as handsome, as dashing, as incredibly badass as bearded individuals such as Conan O'Brien, Shaycarl, or Mr. Angry? And don't you argue genetics with me, buster - DNA means nothing. It's the beards that are at fault here, and they'll never change unless we make them change. Force them onto female faces, I say - beard growing should be enjoyed equally by both sexes!

Daily Story 125 - Beefcakes

I once had a friend who was a cow. He was getting married to a beautiful cow named Bella, and they asked me if I would be kind enough to make them a wedding cake. Being the wonderful, kind friend that I am, I willingly agreed and set to work on a cake that I thought would be deep and meaningful and highly symbolic.

Turns out, cows do not appreciate beefcakes at their wedding receptions. Nor do they appreciate chainsaw conventions in their hometowns. Cows are offended rather easily so be careful.

Daily Story 124 - Equine Metaphors

So me and my mare were goin' out for a night on the racetrack and we decided to go to the stalls and do some unicornin'. She totally ponied me, it was horsing amazing, man. I think we've got to go horseshoeing sometime, that'd be ponyin'.

Daily Story 123 - Yes to Peanut Butter

Once upon a time, a little boy was hungry. His mother asked if he would like something to eat, and he nodded his head. However, they had nothing to eat in their house but a jar of peanut butter. The boy didn't like peanut butter all that much, but he was really hungry so he ate some anyway. After that, the boy wasn't hungry anymore and his dad came home with groceries a couple hours later so all was well.

Daily Story 122 - Angry Gamer Rant

(So Roger Ebert posted yet another link to an (admittedly very well written) argument about video games, and while I respect his opinion on the subject, it still got me thinking about how so many people think video games are a waste of time, and while this is sort of in response to that, it's mostly in response to the anti-gamer attitude in general, and hopefully explains why I get so frustrated with people who say playing too many video games is the cause of psychological imbalance when for so many of us it is, in fact, the other way around.)

Say what you will about video games not being art. I can accept that you and I disagree and move on with my life. But to say that they are a waste of time, that time spent gaming is time that could have been better spent experiencing life or broadening one's horizons, is to alienate every single person who are incapable of experiencing life in that way.

You know what? Yes, I avoid it. But really, isn't that just better for everyone else in the long run? Why should I have to pretend I enjoy the kind of society that shunts everyone like me off into a corner? What point is there for me to try to conform to the societal norm? You may argue that I am simply ignorant of the similarities inherent in every single human being, but you are wrong. I am not a typical human being. I am certifiably insane. I am the kind of person who is represented as a serial killer in the vast majority of television shows. And yet, I have shed no blood, and I am more than capable of pretending to be normal. Maybe that's why nobody understands why it's so hard for me to accomplish the most basic of tasks.

I do spend most of my time in front of the computer. At this moment, I have dirty clothes strewn all over my floor. I'm behind on all my homework, I have failed to eat regular meals today, and I still have yet to accomplish a multitude of tasks that should have been completed about a month ago. However, I am not lazy. I know I should be doing these things. I feel like a failure for not having accomplished them. And still, they remain undone, because they are overwhelming to me. They are not the simple tasks that everyone takes them to be, and that is because I think too much. I think about every single solitary step that goes into each of these tasks, and it causes even the simplest of tasks to multiply into twenty separate tasks that must be done.

Take laundry, for instance. What comes naturally to most people - gather laundry, take it downstairs, put it in the machine, add detergent, start machine, wait, move to dryer, start dryer, wait, take back upstairs, fold, put away - is thoroughly analyzed and questioned, and I find myself taking every single possibility into account:

Which clothes should I wash? Will there be enough space for me to do more than one load? What if there are other people down there? Should I be ready to struggle through some basic, awkward social interactions? Does my student card have enough money to pay for laundry? Do I still have enough detergent? What if the machines are broken? What if some asshole decides to take my clothes out of the washer before the cycle's even finished? Will people be suspicious of me if I carry a huge black bag down the stairs? Why did I think a black laundry bag would be okay? How will I explain that it's just laundry and not a dead body? What if someone killed a man and the killer happens to look exactly like me? What if someone tries to start a conversation with me down in the laundry room? Why do people try to make necessary acts into social events? This is why I fucking hate the idea of dining halls. What if someone else's laundry left something in the machine that'll stain my clothes and render them unwearable again? Do I have enough space to hang all these clothes if the dryers are all taken up? Why won't these shirts fold the way I want them to?

Now, if this is what happens for a relatively simple task such as laundry, you can just imagine what it's like for something that holds a relatively large amount of uncertainty. For every added step in the process, about ten more questions are added to the mix. I would use something like getting my graduation application in order, but I'm not about to force ten pages of uncertainty and irrational fear on anybody. I'm not that cruel (plus Allie Brosh does a much better job of itand also makes it fun to read).

So if simple tasks become minor inconveniences, and minor inconveniences become enormous problems, what happens when I'm confronted with a complex issue that takes a considerate amount of thought and knowledge to confront?

I sit in my room and play video games because just trying to think about what I have to do is overwhelming and I'd rather not have my fifth emotional meltdown of the week today. I still think about it while I play, but the thoughts are filtered to a degree where they become bearable and I can find a solution without compromising my emotional well-being.

I can't see life the way you do, and that is not an attempt to be deep and poetic. That is scientific fact. Some of us need a break from reality to survive. If that makes us flawed individuals, then so be it. It's just one more thing I can bitch to my counselor about.

If you think there's something wrong with that, then maybe you should start looking at the real problem. We are real people and we live with psychological conditions that are neither good nor bad. They simply make us different. Either accept that we're at a disadvantage in today's society or find a way to help us adapt, but don't scorn our coping mechanisms unless you have a better way - and don't forget, it can't be something that works for normal people, because like I've said, we're not normal. We are three out of twenty people in the country, we look at the world from a different angle, and we are ignored or shunned for it.

Daily Story 121 - Unusual Celebrity Tweets

Oh my God I am being chased by a bear.

The bear has cornered me. It looks very, very hungry.

The bear is now breaking out some bondage gear.

The bear is eating the bondage gear.

Eating the bondage gear has given the bear a massive boner.

The bear is now demanding that I dress up as a sexy librarian.

I am not sure how to proceed at this point.

I have told the bear that I'm already seeing someone, the bear seemed disappointed and is now eating me.

Thanks a lot, guys, now the bear's sobbing uncontrollably in a corner because it's convinced it will always be alone.

Also, I am dead.

Daily Story 120 - Nesterday

Nesterday was a good day. The birds built their nests and had a joyous celebration. Then the cat caught a couple birds and ate them, but those birds were old and sick anyway so it was probably better for the other birds in the end.

Daily Story 119 - Yellow

The color yellow once wished to be the color of snow. However, once it found out that yellow snow was generally disliked, it changed its mind. It is now content with its role as the color of the sun and some flowers and... whatever else it is the color of.

The End

Daily Story 118 - Kleenex Box

The tissues sleep in silence until they are taken out to do their work. Then they are discarded and left to live out the rest of their life in silence once more, only now the silence is smelly and gross.

They don't seem to mind, though.

Daily Story 117 - Maze of Trees

Before a tree can claim its rightful place in a forest, it must pass the three tests of treemendous treedom. The first of these tests is the ring of growth, the second is the raking of leaves, and the third - and perhaps most difficult - is the maze of barbed wire and machine guns. The first two tasks were nothing important, but the third was, well, difficult. Most didn't even make it through, which is in fact the real cause of deforestation - it used to only be barbed wire, but some jerk decided to add the machine guns and things just went downhill from there.

Daily Story 116 - A Word of Advice

Using a word that has a commonly accepted meaning and scorning everyone for not understanding that you are using the word's other, more obscure meaning does not make you clever. It makes you a douche.

Daily Story 115 - All Aboard the Fishtoe Train

Timmy the Little Fishy That Could was not satisfied with his humble little life in his humble little town in the humble little subdivision of Hootersville where all the restaurants were run by owls and tacos reigned supreme. He wished to leave home and go off on an exciting adventure of epicness so that he could save his little brother from the dreaded Aidscancerhepatitisinfluenzabipolardeathholocaust disease that threatened to destroy that sweet little child and everything he stood for, which was mostly pancakes and rubbing alcohol. And so, one day Timmy the Little Fishy That Could decided to ride the Fishtoe Train to the nearest Epic Adventure Destination he could find. However, the Fishtoe Train was a dangerous place for a young Little Fishy That Could, as the Fishtoe Train collected and transported fish toes to all the various merchants around the land. Timmy was certain that he would avoid any trouble, however, as he was a smart Little Fishy That Could and he knew that fishes like him had no toes and therefore would not be in any danger of losing them. And so, Timmy the Little Fishy That Could safely rode the Fishtoe Train, had his adventure, and returned to Hootersville just in time to save his little brother's life. In the end, everything was good, and Timmy the Little Fishy That Could was happy that he had saved the day without having to sacrifice any of his nonexistent fish toes.

The End.

Daily Story 114 - Tacos on Ice

Quite an acrobatic feat of fantasticness that show would be, don't you think? Yes, this fantastic show of tacos dancing on ice to a fantastic rhythm is probably the greatest thing you will ever see in your entire life. Just five dollars for a ticket to the imagination rink and you'll be in for a feat of incredible awesomeness such as the world has never seen. So buy the tickets. Do it. Do it now.

Daily Story 113 - Soup Booster

The ultimate picante taste did not want to be digested. Despite its companions' lifelong dreams of becoming part of a human body (or waste, depending on which companion it talked to), it had no desire to be a part of that life. Instead, it wished to go on the landfill journey, leaping from trash can to trash can in a mighty adventure. And so, when the time came, it was glad to be taken from the package and tossed in the garbage.

Daily Story 112 - Things of Late

They have been crazy. Will try to get back to decent stories soon.

Daily Story 111 - Bread Sandwich

Once upon a time there was a man who liked to eat bread sandwiches. This man is my hero, but mostly for reasons other than the fact that he eats sandwiches made entirely out of bread.

Daily Story 110 - Right

Right. Left. Forward. Backward.


Daily Story 109 - The Drug Wars

Once upon a time, there lived a multitude of drugs that were meant to make people feel better and spread cheer and joy throughout the land.

The upset stomach medicine and the adderall did not get along very well. I would go into detail but I feel like poop. If feeling like poop is the same as feeling nauseous but not enough to vomit which I'm pretty sure is what needs to happen but I hate vomiting so I guess I'm subconsciously forcing myself not to which really sucks because... well, it sucks. I'll try again tomorrow.

Good night.

Daily Story 108 - Life Lessons

The jelly bar had an incredible adventure. Then it was eaten.

The candy bar had an incredible adventure. Then it was eaten.

The granola bar had an incredible adventure. Then it was eaten.

The crowbar had an incredible adventure. It was not eaten.

Daily Story 107- What

(I would suggest reading this one out loud)

There was once a man with a giant hamburger. He ate it one day and things were good.

To me the food bell din ought lake bean keg to round.

Kiwi sin tall weigh saw food bells, oh. Key you stew bee as quill, butter cotton tune orgy mint win as quill. Hit wasp in dividends quill. Hit wasp not to me. Keyed in tar glue wink in shelf. Munch.

Soak ego man jig leap earned unto of food bell. Peek us the leather's quill woe smear.

Saw to me woe saw food bell new. Awe the get sat this cool you steam whim zap laid oft errs cool, daring gin, a tree says, undoing food bell broke this. Won get gnome chow wee hat fiend to me inner man jig all for us tin the lie berry.

This cool hats am string sings caw wing awe non sighed.

The stew din that hick to me ant bra time do haze gin touch her. Though gin touch her gnaw they to me hat bee gnaws quill putty tiding cure. Thin eat it of food bell add this cool. Saw to me who spa tin though he quit mint rum.

Chow wee din ought lag top lay food bell peeve oar hive owned to me. Chow wheel eye kid food bell of dare hive owned to me, so. Keep lay twin to me oil that am. To me who slew sing he spring we tall thick aim skit spray twit them. Pet chow wee wisk candle. Chow weed knit through to me saw heart. Wednesday vine ash delaying food bell offers cool, chow hee what steel ate do half deep arty swift to me. To me cut nod rink that eave a cut sea who saw food bell. Hugest saw dare well chow wheels plunged day yawn ham. Chow wee word woo shawl that eye offer to me peeve oar hue and hum, peek us chow wee wasp a light in dwell men heard in day to cure office dings.

Wonder thick it swear blue ying we to me ants um won key them offered offense. To me go train off are pay at rack. No we whistle me so flu tinned food bell. Hit add nod art peek us hue who safe food bell. Nun offer cats went into bluish harmony mar, though chow wee too come human bud hemming at rest. Chow wee that sod rest raked berry putty onto me.

Frown dot ban tan, to me saw tan chow wheels dry sir in fought uh beta main ingot laugh. Hide in dove in image or ape if any, sew. Hue is of flu tinned food bell whiff mage orb rain dim age hoot and won spin ace quill.

Daily Story 106 - Tuesday's Coming

Did you bring your coat?

Daily Story 105 - Really Fluffy Yarn

Really fluffy yarn is so very fluffy that I can't help but love it. It feels so soft and fluffy that I just want to roll around in it all day. Or, actually, since I don't really like to roll around and stuff, I like to feel it all day. Or something. I don't know anymore. I just like yarn that's soft and fluffy.

Daily Story 104 - Die Eier Sind Weiß

Ich spreche ein bißchen Deutsch. Nicht sehr viel, aber das ist ok. Ich schreibe jetzt in Deutsch, weil ich etwas anders machen will. Deutsch ist ganz anders, oder vielleicht nicht ganz anders, sondern ein bißchen anders. Ich weiß nicht, aber ich schreibe auf Deutsch.

Ik heb een hond.

Oh wait.

Das war nicht Deutsch.

Lo seinto. Yo tengo sueño.


Daily Story 103 - DINOSAURS


Daily Story 102 - That Explains A Lot

So it turns out it's a bad idea to take antacids while on Adderall. I did not, in fact, learn this from experience, but rather from a google search while trying to figure out if I would die if I took something to get rid of the awful feeling of nausea and "I have to burp but if I let it all out I could end up vomiting" and I'm really scared of vomiting because it's disgusting and it's really hard to get to the point for me to be comfortable enough to actually let it happen so I'd much rather make that feeling go away as long as making that feeling go away won't end with me dying because I'm making it worse and I figured the internet would know a way to accomplish that because lots of people get sick and stuff and the INTERNET KNOWS ALL. However, all I could find was "antacids and Adderall ish BAD" and "ADDERALL HAS SIED EFEXKTS OMG" and "IT'S LESS ADIKTING THEN SPEEEEEEED" and so on, which is good to know, but not very helpful when one is feeling sick and would really like to know how to feel less sick.

In the end, I gave up and decided to go for a more reliable source of information, even though that would mean using the phone and I hate doing that though it was just my mom so it's not all that bad. I hadn't gone for that option at first since it was late and I didn't want to wake my parents up if they were sleeping (they usually go to bed around the time I was considering calling them) but since the internet was giving me nothing, I was just like "screw it" and called my mom's cell phone, which is better for our phone plan and thus the first number I call when trying to reach her. I got the answering machine, so I figured she was either asleep or hadn't been able to find the phone in time, so I left a message and went back to moping around and trying to see if I could make myself feel better by sitting in a comfy chair and breathing. Or something along those lines. The phone rang a couple minutes later, and I answered, hoping that my mom would have a decent solution to my semi-late-night dilemma.



I should probably mention, my mother has a very distinct laugh, so I knew it was her immediately. That didn't stop me from being confused, though.

"I was sleeping and I heard the phone ringing and I answered it in my dreams AHEHHEHHEHHEHEHHEH and AHEHHEH then Dad asked, 'is the phone ringing?' and I AHEHHEHHEH told him 'well, it shouldn't be, because I just' AHEHHEH 'answered it,' AHEHHEHHEH but I actually answered it in my dreams so it was still ringing... AHEHHEHEH So then Dad handed me the regular phone AHEHHEH but that wasn't the right one and we had to go searching for AHEHHEH the cell phone! AHEHHEHHEH! We ended up calling it and found it that way. So, what did you need help with?"

Um, yeah. So my mom was asleep, and she heard the phone ringing, so she answered it in her dream. Then, when my dad tried to get the phone so she could answer it, but he gave her the wrong one, and they had to go searching for the cell phone.

The good news is, I now have a solution to my stomach problems. I also have very solid evidence that I am not some freak of nature. I just take after my parents.

Daily Story 101 - Toilets in Space II: Origins

Many aboard the spaceship wondered how the toilets came to be in space, and why they were able to communicate so clearly and concisely. This was a difficult question to answer, however, and nobody on board the ship was willing to approach the toilets and ask them, for they feared they would offend the toilets, and that did not seem like a very good idea.

It was the captain who found the perfect solution to their dilemma. He casually approached the lead toilet and suggested they go for a walk around the ship. The toilet agreed, but only if it could be placed on a platform with wheels and be pulled along by someone due to the fact that toilets are terrible at walking for some pretty obvious reasons. The captain was more than willing to accommodate the lead toilet, and soon he was walking through the enormous spaceship alongside the lead toilet, who was being pulled along by a goat that had a small Mexican boy riding on its back and giving it directions. The Mexican boy served no purpose other than to fill an unnecessary and most likely offensive stereotype onboard the ship, so the others paid no heed to him, as he was from Mexico and therefore spoke Mexican Spanish, which was not the language of the command crew. They spoke English, because that seems to be the language of choice for being fancy and important nowadays, and because the writer of this tale is a native English speaker and therefore wishes to make life easy for herself. She would also like to point out that there is probably no need for the Mexican boy riding a goat to pull the wheeled platform the lead toilet was sitting on, as a super-gigantic spaceship that can afford to have Mexican boys that ride goats would probably be able to afford fancy moving walkways or self-propelled wheeled platforms, but the writer thought it would be funny to include a stupid, pointless stereotype in this story because, quite honestly, it is about anthropomorphic self-aware toilets on a spaceship so clearly there is no point in trying to be realistic.

The lead toilet spoke much about its own life, how it it been born a small drain pipe, how it had grown through the years until it had finally matured into an adult toilet, how it had once gotten a chip on its seat from a rough game of capture the flag... all stories that seemed more fitting for an adult human than a toilet, and yet the toilet did not seem to notice the strange nature of its tales. The captain was downright perplexed by the end of their conversation, and he returned to the command center with absolutely no idea what to make of it. However, while it was indeed nonsensical, it was in fact the information the captain had been looking for. The only problem was, nobody had any idea what to do with it.

Daily Story 100 - Just Say No to Mall Trips, Part 2

Boy: (walks into the room) Hey, do you want to go to the mall?
Girl: (reading book) Not really.
Boy: Come on, it'll be fun.
Girl: No.
Boy: Please?
Girl: No.
Boy: Why not?
Girl: I don't want to go. I'm busy.
Boy: But-
Girl: No.
Boy: I just want-
Girl: NO.
Boy: (getting angry) You're a stupid mean poopy-head and I hate you! (yanks book out of girl's hands and throws it at her)
Girl: What the hell?
Boy: (still angry) Why won't you just come with me and let me have my fun?
Girl: (angry as well) Because I'm fucking busy and I hate your stupid fucking mall trips!
Boy: (throwing a very child-like temper tantrum) You're just a stupid, selfish cunt-face who ruins everything! I'm beginning to think you should be thrown in an institution for the socially retarded!
Girl: (lets out an aggravated sigh) Fine, I'll go if you just stop bothering me!
Boy: (instantly happy again) Yay!
(Boy and Girl get into the car. Boy is happy, Girl has her arms crossed over her chest and looks incredibly angry)
Boy: See, I knew you'd want to come with me.

Daily Story 99 - Why R U on youtube?

(You can watch a video version of this one here)

I started on youtube because I wanted to find a certain movie, and having been clueless about copyright at the time, I looked online and eventually found it on youtube. After that, I realized that there were a lot of AMVs on the web and started to get really involved in the fandom, making my own AMVs and just having fun exploring my potential as an editor, which I had really wanted to get into ever since my freshman year of high school, when I took a media production class at the 45-student private sports academy I was attending at the time.

Then, of course, I learned about copyright the hard way and got my first account banned, so of course I started a new account and kept on going, but then I grew out of that "OMG FAN VIDS OMG" phase - mostly because I had learned a lot more about copyright and felt guilty - and wanted to make more original stuff, but I didn't really have the means for it at the time so I kind of just floated around lazily and watched random stuff that I found when I was bored. You know, the typical kind of thing people do on youtube.

Then I found Flippycat. I was absolutely captivated by all his domino videos and watched as many as I could because it was just so awesome to me, and that's how I found the Mean Kitty Song.

At that point in my life, I had been getting really involved with various online communities. There are a few webcomics I follow religiously, and I'm a semi-serious-but-mostly-casual role player on gaiaonline. I was realizing that I really liked the idea of online medias, especially since I have such bad anxiety that I literally have to force myself to talk to most people face-to-face, especially if I don't know them very well or there's an important issue that's come up. Talking online is, well, easier for me. Hell, most of my social development in the past several years has been largely due to meeting people and making friends online, and considering where I was even just two years ago, I've improved tremendously. So when I realized that there was actually a huge and awesome community of creative people on youtube, I was thrilled.

So why do I stay with it? Well, a big part of it has been that entertainment value, but now a huge part of it is just how awesome the people are. It's something I want to be a part of. And sure, I'm not that great at committing myself to actually making videos, but thanks to youtube, I have been able to commit myself to do more of what I do best, and that is writing. Besides, I know I'll be able to commit to videos eventually. I may not be there yet, but hey, that just means I've got something to look forward to.

Daily Story 98 - Sleep Deprivation

Once upon a time, an emotionally dysfunctional college student stayed up too late and had to wake up early to work with small children the next morning. This did not result in any absolutely horrible incidents, as the nature of the college student's emotional disorder was not the type that would result in any sort of violent, abusive or any sort behavior that would be detrimental towards children and she was simply a bit sleepy when she left for work.

The End.

P.S. I have no idea if that's the right way to use "detrimental" but I'm tired so leave me alone. Good night.

Daily Story 97 - My Post-Graduation Plans

First I'm gonna get a toaster and name it Goldfish, and then I'm gonna get a goldfish and name it Toaster, and then I'll spend all my time observing the inevitable mutual identity crises that happen as a result.

Daily Story 96 - How ProductCorp Has Changed My Life

Hello, readers. Today, I would like to talk about something serious. Something important. Something that has changed my life for the better and could very well do the same for you. No, actually, it will do the same for you. Don't believe me? Well, sheeple, you'll soon find that there is no reason not to believe me. Why, you ask? Because I say so, and what I say comes straight from the wonderful promise of ProductCorp, which is without a doubt the greatest promise in the universe.

You see, I am not an ordinary person. As you all may know by now, my life has been heavily (and often negatively) impacted by both Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). What this means, in simple terms, is that I have a hard time focusing on anything and I worry about almost everything under the sun. In fact, just the other day I looked at my doorknob and wondered if it was secretly trying to kill me, and now I look at it every few seconds just to make sure it hasn't fallen off the door and made its way over to my desk with a machete.

Of course, I have the ability to tell myself that the doorknob is an inanimate object and therefore unlikely to be plotting my demise (especially since I am kind to it and take care to make sure it is functioning properly), but this is only one example of my irrational fears. You see, I worry about everything, so when there is nothing important to worry about, I either have to focus my worry on something strange and absurd (such as an evil doorknob) or live with a vague sense of unease that haunts me throughout my day and makes me feel like something terrible is going to happen even though everything appears to be going quite well in my life.

In fact, it is the mere fact that things are going well that makes me worry. You see, if I don't worry about something I might begin to wonder if I forgot about something that deserves my full worrying attention and then I worry that I'm forgetting something hugely important and it feels like things are going to go horribly wrong and it'll be all my fault because I wasn't worried enough about something and I dropped my guard, thus allowing something terrible to happen to me and I end up staying up all night wielding a lamp as a makeshift weapon because I really don't want to be murdered by a doorknob. Or anyone else, for that matter. In short, I need something to worry about all the time so I don't worry about not worrying about anything, which is very worrisome.

Now, I know you might be asking, "What does your constant worrying have to do with ProductCorp?" Well, that is an excellent question, and the answer is simple.

We are being lied to. The enigmatic geniuses at ProductCorp have shown us that there is, in fact, something to worry about. Thanks to the wonders of ProductCorp, I now know about the faceless conspiracy that is responsible for all the bad things in the world. In fact, my ceaseless worrying might well be the result of being unknowingly manipulated by this faceless conspiracy for my entire life - in other words, this faceless conspiracy is the root of all my psychological distress!

Thanks to ProductCorp, I now know the root of all my psychological problems, and I was glad to give them real cash in exchange for a promise - the best promise in the world, to be precise. It's not just a promise, though. What I got from ProductCorp was far more than that. ProductCorp gave me the tools to cope with my crippling anxiety. They gave me the truth. The truth of a faceless conspiracy that is now the target of all my worries, leaving me free to enjoy my life when it's good because I don't have to live with that vague sense of unease. It is now a very focused sense of unease that comes from knowing that we are all doomed to suffer at the hands of this faceless conspiracy unless we fight back, and ProductCorp has promised a solution. All we have to do is give them real cash - a small price to pay for such an incredible, wonderful promise.

So go to them, readers. Let ProductCorp promise you a cure, because you need it. We all need it.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Daily Story 95 - Toilets

What do you poop in? Toilets. Usually. Most of the time. Unless you're not a human, in which case it's either a litter box or the outside world. Or someone's living room, but that's generally frowned upon. Baby humans poop in diapers, usually.

Toilets are great, though. They make it easier to dispose of your bodily waste in a clean and hygienic without leaving the comfort of your home. Not only that, but they either eradicate the smell of waste immediately or dilute it to the point where it's quite tolerable. Most of the time, at least.

In short, potty training is an excellent thing to do.

Daily Story 94 - Ponies Are Evil

My name is Kyle Bernham, and I am doing you all a service by telling you about the evil nature of ponies. They may not seem evil to you, but trust me, they are. Stay away from ponies. They will find you.

Daily Story 93 - A Plea For Help

I want to go home. It's scary here. I'm frustrated. The doorknob is staring at me. I'm pretty sure it's going to murder me in my sleep. Disemboweled by a diabolical doorknob. I don't want my death to be alliteration. It has friends, too. That pack of sewing needles on my desk. It wants to make me miserable. It's making me focus so much on keeping it in order that I forget more important things. Like homework. Or eating. Or that goddamn doorknob.

Please help me. My doorknob is holding me hostage.

Daily Story 92 - Bone

The dog ate the bone. It choked on the bone. It puked up the bone.

The human was angry. It cleaned up the bone. It stopped giving the dog a bone.

Daily Story 91 - Cheeseburger's Revenge

Today's story is about a cheeseburger. Not a cheezburgur. A cheeseburger. It's not a love song to a cheeseburger, either. It's a cheeseburger that happens to enjoy being single. What, I ask you, is wrong with that?

Single cheeseburgers are perfectly happy cheeseburgers. There is nothing wrong with being a single cheeseburger, nor is there anything wrong with being a properly-spelled cheeseburger, unlike those damn cats would have you believe. You got a problem with that, buddy? No? Good.

I'm watching you. You'd better keep your mouth shut, buddy. Got it?

Anyway, this story is about a single, properly-spelled cheeseburger with an appetite for vengeance.

Except now I can't remember it because someone had to go and ruin my concentration. Thanks a lot, jerk.

Daily Story 90 - Joseph

Once upon a time, a thing happened and many people rejoiced.

OR DID THEY?!??!??!???!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??1/1/!>!?!?!???!?!?!?!?g

Yeah, they did. It was a joyous occasion, for the deathly death monster of evil death was no more. It had been vanquished. A knight vanquished it. A knight named Joseph vanquished it. Joseph, the knight who vanquished the deathly death monster of evil death, was a great knight who liked to give orphan children puppies that somehow provided the orphan children with food, clothing, shelter, and a high-quality education that any living parent would love to give their own parent - I mean child - merely by existing in the orphan child's life. Unfortunately, these puppies tended to have a lot of accidents in the house. Most of the orphan children didn't mind cleaning up after the puppies, however, and any who did were probably jerks anyway so who cares about them?

Anyway, Joseph the puppy-giving orphan-life-improving deathly-death-monster-of-evil-death-vanquishing knight was a pretty decent guy. People liked him, and I don't think I have to explain why, but I will anyway in case someone didn't get it: it's because he gave orphan children all-providing puppies and vanquished the deathly death monster of evil death.

Daily Story 89 - Cheese Universe

Think about it. An entire universe where everyone ate cheese all the time. Think about all those cows that would have to make all that milk that made all that cheese. Those poor, poor cows. How could they stand it? Making cheese all the time. No, wait, making the milk for the cheese all the time.

I guess the goats could help them out, too. And... actually, are there other animals that make milk that people drink? Besides people milk. I don't think many people would want people cheese. Just saying the phrase 'people cheese' sounds horribly wrong and brings up unwanted mental images. Ew.

But the goats and the cows could make a lot of milk together, and a lot of baby cows and baby goats so that there are more of them to make more milk, and I guess if it wasn't all the time it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe just for like every meal or something. That would still be a lot of cheese, though. There would have to be like four times as many cows as needed for the bare minimum, just so that they could take turns and have a life beyond making cheese. Milk. Milk for the cheese.

I'm glad I'm not a cow.

Daily Story 88 - DRUGS!

I am off my meds. I like pretty things. I like music about flying dragons. So many pretty things and they are all in dragon form. With wings. Like a dog, only not really. What joy, oh, what joy indeed...

Time for Gatorade. And then bed. But mostly Gatorade. Because I am thursty. I mean thirsty. I need the delete button to function, it seems. Screw the delete utton. And the back arrows . I'm going to typ e without them for a whiel. And see how you like it. Iksno't it fun? Oh jeez that one was ridiculously bad. I should pay more attention to what I'm typing. Like hitting the right lkeys instead of the wrong ones. And i guess it's not the delete button, it's the delete key, I thought button sounded wrong but I didn't really know why exactly but then I remembered tat it's called a key and it's all good now. Like a keyblooard. Yes, a keyboard. They are nifty inventions. Like uh something else that is a nifty invention. I dunno. Pants? Paeper towel? Things like that. Yes. Lightbulgbs are pretty nifty too. So are Lightbulbs. Oh, yeah. I hjust did that. Agh the urge to hit delete is overwhelmig but I will not even though it taekes longer for me to resist the urge to heit dielete instead of just hitting it like I'm used to do iing but WHATERVER. Or WHATEVER. They're both good. Gah it loosks so oawfiul with all these typos why do I suck so bad at this aaaaaaaaaaaaaahahhagh gahghahghahahg ahahahhahaga ghhghghhghaghahhghghhh okay sleep time now. I mean gatorade time. CAPS LOCK IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR AWESOME. Um, yeah. Good night. Or Good drinking. But not like the kind of drinking with alcohol. All i have is gatorade.

Daily Story 87 - A Letter

Dear Montana,

Please make up your mind. Do you want the weather to be so cold that I'm shivering nonstop even though I'm wearing so many layers my armpits are sweating up a storm? Or do you want to melt all the snow on the ground with your rainstorms? Please choose one and stick with it so I don't have to constantly adjust my routine to fit the weather patterns. If you can't decide, then I'll decide for you. Repeatedly. With a knife. In your face.

All the best from your very bestest friend,


Daily Story 86 - Duck Pond

There is a duck pond at my university. It is filled with ducks. They like to live there. They get fed by people with nothing better to do. They do not like people very much but they will be very obvious about their desire for someone's food.

Be careful when visiting the duck pond.

Daily Story 85 - Duck

Once upon a time, a duck had feet. This made the duck very happy, because it didn't have to live as a cripple, unlike one of the other ducks it knew. This duck could appreciate the blessings it had in its life.

Daily Story 84 - Hugs Are Nice

They are warm, and they are fun. They make people feel loved. In fact, they are so wonderful that there are songs proclaiming their greatness. You should go listen to one.

Daily Story 83 - Just Say No to Mall Trips

(Doing something different this time around, this one's in the form of two skits that I would love to make actual videos of but that would involve a camera, a car, and a guy friend who's willing enough to film it with me...)

Skit 1:

Guy walks into a living room where a girl's sitting, reading a book.

"Hey, want to go to the mall with me?"

"Um... sorry, I've got a lot of reading to do."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun. You can read later."

"No, seriously, I have to finish this book before tomorrow."

"Reading's overrated. Mall time is fun!"

"I have a test tomorrow and if I fail, I'll have to retake the course. I need to finish this book."

"Then read in the car or some shit. I don't care, this is important to me!"

He drags her off to his car, drives and sings along to music (badly) and is generally annoying, causing the girl to have trouble reading.

The girl continues to try and read while they walk through the mall, but eventually gives up and irritably follows the guy around while he enjoys himself, oblivious to her obvious disgruntlement.

The girl tries to read again in the car, but the guy grabs her book and throws it out the window while being annoying. The girl smacks him and shouts insults at him, but the guy doesn't seem to realize he's being a jerk.

The girl ends up failing her test the next day.

The girl takes a paper with a visible 'F' on it and shoves it in the guy's face.

"There. See? I didn't get to finish that book because of your stupid mall trip, and now I have to take that course over again. You are a fucking douche bag."

The guy looks surprised. "Well, jeez, you could have said no if you really didn't want to come with me."

The girl screams and pounds the guy in the head with the nearest blunt object.

End title: Just say no to mall trips... because clearly all men are stupid.

Skit 2:

Guy walks into a living room where a girl's lying on the couch, covered with a blanket.

"Hey, want to go to the mall with me?"

"I'm sleeping."

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Go away, I haven't slept in 48 hours because I've been studying for that damn retake that your stupid mall trip forced me to beg and plead for."

"Sounds like you need some ice cream. I'll get the car ready!"

Guy walks out of the room, bouncing with happiness and blissfully unaware that the girl might be harboring a grudge against him. The girl groans as the door slams shut and covers her head with the blanket. The guy comes back in and drags her out to the car, the blanket still draped around her shoulders.

The girl dozes off in the car, despite the guy's annoying antics and loud, blaring music. The guy seems to be oblivious to her lack of consciousness.

The guy walks around the mall with the girl stumbling or sleepwalking just behind him. They are getting a lot of strange looks, but the guy is oblivious as he talks to the girl, not seeming to realize that she is unconscious and at some point remarking, "Oh, quit being such a sourpuss. You know you're enjoying this."

The guy stops to get ice cream, and he asks the girl what she wants, but the girl is unable to answer due to lack of consciousness. The guy says, "Okay, I'll just order for you," then orders something for them both.

The cashier asks, "Is she okay?"

"Oh, yeah, she's just in a bad mood because she failed a test," the guy says cheerily.

The cashier looks skeptical and alarmed, but fills the order anyway. The guy takes both ice cream cones and leads the girl to an empty table in the food court, then 'helps' the girl eat her ice cream, which gets melted ice cream all over her face and shirt.

"Wow, talk about bad motor control," the guy jokes.

The guy drives them back to the living room, again being cheerfully obnoxious and oblivious to the girl's unconscious state.

The guy takes the girl back inside and she wakes up in a daze at the entrance to the living room. "Wha...?"

She looks down and sees that she's covered in ice cream and immediately realizes what happened.

"God damn it, you little fucktard! Did you drag me to the mall while I was sleeping again?"

"What? I thought you wanted to come!" the guy says, sounding confused.

"I told you, I wanted to sleep because you were too stupid to realize how important that test was and ruined my study time!" the girl screams.

"Wh... you should have said you didn't want to come with me, then," the guy scolds. "All you had to do was say no."

The girl is visibly on the edge of exploding with rage.

Cut to a visual of an explosion.

The girl is next seen beating the guy with a pillow while screaming obscenities at him.

End title: Seriously, men have no brains. Just say no to mall trips.

The girl and the guy are sitting on the couch, the guy holding an ice pack to his head and the girl scowling with her arms crossed.

"By the way, you still owe me $80 for that book," the girl says.

The guy looks up at her, a little big startled by this news.

(Basic point here: If a man was really incapable of understanding anything besides a firm 'no' when forcing himself upon a woman, then I figure this must be what he's like the rest of the time.)

Daily Story 82 - The Epic Battle of Pens

(Click here to witness the Annoying Dolphin Pen in action.)

There were many pens that lived in the land of Dormaroomia. There were fountain pens, erasable pens, cheap pens, an annoying clicker pen that made dolphin noises when clicked, and many other writing instruments that were not specifically pens but shared many common features. There were, for instance, permanent markers, washable markers, dry erase markers, scented markers, gel sticks, pencils, crayons, bottles of glitter glue, paintbrushes, and even a ruler and a stapler who liked to pretend they were writing utensils from time to time. Of course, it was rather obvious that they were nothing of the sort, but they had spirit and the actual writing utensils had to respect them for that, so they tended to play along with the act as the ruler and stapler scribbled furiously on paper, and they pretended to be amazed by the color-less indentations that the ruler and the stapler left on the paper.

One day, however, the annoying dolphin pen decided that it did not approve of the ruler and the stapler trying to fit in when they were clearly meant to have other purposes in the Dormaroomian economy. The annoying dolphin pen did not want a ruler trying to write when there were lengths to be measured and straight lines to be made, and the annoying dolphin especially did not want a stapler trying to write when there were papers that needed to be stapled together before they were separated and rearranged in the wrong order. The annoying dolphin pen was furious that these two items were trying to take on a job that was not meant for them.

The annoying dolphin was not alone in its opinion. Many others wished that the stapler and the ruler would stop trying to write like a pen, because that was just not fair to the rest of the writing utensils who could actually write. They banded together with the annoying dolphin pen to make a rule that only true writing utensils could participate in the honorable task of writing.

However, many were also opposed to the opinion of the annoying dolphin pen. What was so bad about the ruler and the stapler trying to write? After all, there was hardly anything for them to do, as their functions were limited and there was little in the land of Dormaroomia that needed to be stapled, measured, or given a straight line. There was no need to force the stapler and the ruler into behaving like they should at all times. They deserved to have some fun every once in a while.

Not only that, but what constituted a true writing utensil? This question was particularly prevalent within the group of paintbrushes, gel sticks, and dry-erase markers, whose functions were limited to very specific types of mark-making. In fact, without paint, the paintbrushes were about as good at writing as the stapler and the ruler. Did that make them unfit for the duties of writing?

The annoying dolphin pen was infuriated by these lesser utensils trying to disprove his theory. How could they cheapen the great, noble art of writing? Who did they think they were? It was absolutely outrageous. And so, it called forth all true writing utensils, the pens, the pencils, and the markers, and even some of the crayons - for while they were not quite as worthy of being true writing utensils as the annoying dolphin pen would have liked, it knew that they would be valuable assets in this struggle for the true writerhood to regain its former honor - and decreed that any other utensil caught writing would be banished to the closet floor, where they would likely never be seen again until spring.

This decree did not go unchallenged, however. There were many utensils left that were not a part of the annoying dolphin pen's troop of 'true' writing utensils, and they banded together to fight for their rights. What made the annoying dolphin pen, who made such annoying sounds and could not be given a refill without the help of a screwdriver, so much more qualified to write than the gel sticks, or the dry-erase markers, or the paintbrushes, or even the glitter glue? They were determined to fight for their rights, and they would fight until the bitter end.

The war began late one evening, and it lasted until morning, when the stapler cried out for silence and asked the annoying dolphin pen, "When was the last time you actually wrote anything?"

The annoying dolphin pen was stunned into silence. It had no idea how to answer that question, for it did not remember when it had last written anything. It became depressed, but the stapler comforted it with a pat on the back (it was a very talented and flexible stapler) and said, "You are still a true writing utensil, though you have not written for so long. I know I am nothing more than a mere stapler, and I know I cannot create more than a few indentations on a sheet of paper, but like the paintbrushes, and the glitter glue, and the erasable pens and permanent markers, I exist to create. I create organization, and you create markings that can be interpreted as letters or symbols, or even part of a drawing, should you be asked to do so. We are all made for that purpose, and while we must never forget what our purpose is, there is no reason we cannot get along despite our differences and do as we please in our spare time. This fight will do nothing but make our lives miserable. We ought to be celebrating our identities, not using them to create conflict."

"You are right," the annoying dolphin pen conceded after a moment. "You are very right, stapler. I apologize to you, and to you, ruler, and to all of those who have been hurt by my selfish actions. Whether or not our purpose is to write, we are here to create, and we might as well enjoy the times we have to do as we please. Let this war be done!"

The crowds of utensils cheered, and all was well once more in the land of Dormaroomia. The annoying dolphin pen and the stapler became the very best of friends, and they all lived happily ever after.

Daily Story 81 - What Really Happens in Africa

Starving children in Africa forced to abuse puppies while working in sweatshops to pay for Prostitute School textbooks that Big Business owners have agreed to only sell to the homophobic Big Bad Government that beats women until they become suicide bombers that attack orphanages during Adoption Day because the orphanage is doing its best to fight global warming by sending children on solar-powered boats to clean up litter and save the lives of countless fish that the Big Bad Government wants to die so they can have a feast for the Dictator's 60th birthday party that will include games such as 'Strangle the Kitty' and 'Kill 20 Animals off the Endangered Species List' and force other starving children to serve drinks in ridiculous outfits.

Daily Story 80 - Tradition

It was a nice, sunny day in Oakwood, and Kyle didn't feel like staying at home. His parents were arguing about something stupid, and he just wanted to go out and play with his best friend Katie, who also lived next door. The only trouble was, his parents were blocking the doorway and he didn't want to hurt his eardrums by getting too close. So, he did what any other sensible four-year-old would do. He opened the window of his second-story bedroom, climbed out onto the roof, and jumped.

It was very lucky it was winter, because he probably would have hurt himself without the twelve feet of soft, fluffy snow to break his fall. He picked himself up and plowed his way through the snow, then climbed up the few unburied steps to Katie's balcony, where her parents were waiting with hot cocoa and a change of clothes. They were, after all, used to this half-frozen preschooler showing up at their house. It was just another one of those unique Oakwood traditions.

Daily Story 79 - Pretty Pink Paper

Pretty pink paper is pretty and pink. I like to write on it, but I have none. Perhaps I should buy some. What do you think?

Daily Story 78 - A Conversation

(No, this isn't based on a real conversation I've had, but it is still an incredibly valid question.)

"You ever try to concentrate on something, but you end up getting stuck on a completely different subject and just can't stop thinking about it?"

"Hm, yeah, maybe. What kind of subject do you mean?"

"Well, like... what if the entire universe was made of ducks?"

"That's impossible."

"Yeah, but what if it were possible?"

"How could that possibly even work?"

"Just pretend it could! Jeez, do you really have to make everything so complicated?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who wants the universe to be made of ducks."

"I didn't say I wanted it to be made of ducks! I just said what if it was made of ducks!"

"But what does that even entail?"

"Hell if I know, that's why I was asking."

"You seriously have no idea? How did this idea even occur to you, then?"

"Beats me. But I guess I mean, like... if instead of earth, and air, and molecules and stuff, everything was just an assortment of ducks."

"So like duck molecules in the air?"

"No, the ducks would be the air."

"You'd be breathing ducks, then?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"That'd be... weird."

"Hehe, I just got the best mental image of a guy getting transported to an all-duck universe and being driven mad by the constant quacking of all the ducks that were engulfing him."

"...Let me guess, your roommate let you have sugar today, is that it?"

"Hehehehe, I like Milk Duds."

"...Of course you do."

Daily Story 77 - This One's Only Two Sentences Long...

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, where things were happy and peaceful and joyous and warm and full of life, and all the children wore beautiful clothing and smiled all the time, as birds tweeted and sang their sweet songs in a joyous fashion, and men and women alike went about their daily routines with a song in their hearts while the elderly lived in comfort, as the green grass swayed delicately in the breeze on the distant fields where the cattle and sheep, which were never treated poorly, grazed to their heart's content as the ducks, whose quacks were melodious and pleasant to the ear, and geese, which were never aggressive towards anything, swam and played in the great blue pond where the children liked to play when they were not broadening their horizons at the brilliantly run public schools or learning the joys of helping their families with the household chores, and rabbits ran free over the flowering meadows without a care in the world while wolves feasted exclusively on the delicious flesh of the few evil creatures that dared to attack this heavenly land, there lived a boy named Timmy, who liked to pretend he was a knight and ran about saving the neighborhood girls from the evils of dirty puddles and packages that were difficult to open, which happened to include oranges, while his friends followed behind and pretended to be the brave knight's loyal soldiers, which was quite acceptable to their parents, who strived daily to teach their children to be the very best they could be, because the reason this land had done so well was because everyone tried their very best to be good people, which meant teaching their children to be good people through example, and these children were a very good and intelligent bunch, so they learned this skill superbly, and so the parents liked to see their children playing games that also helped other children, whose own games were similarly happy and uplifting, when they weren't too busy attending school or doing chores, which they often turned into a game just because there was no reason to be dull or boring, which they did so wonderfully that they hardly had to spend any time on it at all, but they chose to do so anyway because they were wonderful children, and Timmy was the best of them all.

Unfortunately, Timmy got hit by a bus and died.

Daily Story 76 - The Dangers of Using a Thesaurus

The green field was absolutely lovely. The grass swayed beautifully in the meadow, and anyone who looked upon the emerald blades would be in awe of its breathtaking wonder. Few could recount the allure of the handsome olive sod, for it was so stunning that all who gazed upon it were in esteem of its sensation and capricious dazzling qualities as it oscillated in the gust. Indeed, this pasture was the most shocking mercurial range of ecological herbage that anyone had unremittingly scrutinized.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Daily Story 75 - Why I Hate Giant Stop Signs

(All I can really say about this one is... yes, I've had this mental image before, and it is disturbing.)

Imagine yourself in a car, driving up a lonely country road. Far in the distance is an intersection with another lonely, winding road. You can see that it has a stop sign. You see that the other road is a bit busier than the one you're driving on, and you figure the stop sign's there to keep people from driving into oncoming traffic. You think nothing more of it, as it's still a long ways away.

The stop sign gets bigger as you get closer. It's perfectly natural - things seem bigger when they're closer to you, and smaller as they're further away, so when you approach something, of course it's going to seem like it's growing in size. But there's something strange afoot here. You thought it was going to be a regular old 2-foot stop sign, but no. It's not. It's gone past that. You're still about 1200 yards away, but already it's taking up more of your vision than a stop sign would if you were standing ten feet away. You begin to worry. Are you about to run into it? Did you somehow misjudge the distance between you and the sign and now have to worry about whether you're going to crash into it? But no. It's still far, far in the distance. The intersection is nowhere near close enough for that to be a possibility. Besides, there's still a lot of road between you and the sign.

You keep driving. The stop sign keeps growing. But it's growing faster than you'd thought it would. Now the top and bottom edges are slightly obscured by the top of your windshield and the hood of your car. The stop sign is still growing, those large, white letters screaming STOP at you from 600 yards away. You stop for a moment and get out of your car, rubbing at your eyes to see whether or not you're seeing things. It's still there.

You decide to drive closer. After all, you're alone, the rest of your sense of sight seems to be intact, you feel fine... there's no reason to stop now, there's a giant stop sign ahead. You get back in your car and keep driving. Then, when you finally arrive at the intersection, you have to crane your head back as far as you can just to see the top of the sign. It's got to be about a thousand feet high - and it's still balancing precariously on the pole, which means you're in a hell of a lot of trouble if it decides to topple over.

And then you see it. It's beginning to tilt forward. You've got to get out of here before it falls over on you. You get back in your car and step on the gas, shooting out from under the bottom edge of the gigantic beast of a sign just as it starts to fall... and you crash into a car that was driving across the intersection.

Luckily, both you and the people in the other car are just fine, but none of you know how to react to this strange event. All you know is that there's a stop sign with a 1,000-foot diameter lying on the ground, and whoever tries to drive on the road you were just on is going to have to take one hell of a detour to get around it.

Daily Story 74 - Dolphins of the North

In the North lived a fearsome, awe-inspiring clan of dolphins. They went to the South... and that's all I got.

Daily Story 73 - Neon Turtles

They are turtles that happen to be neon.

Daily Story 72 - Mammalshark

The great Mammalshark is one of the rarest animals in the world. In fact, it is so rare that very few people know of its existence. It has only been seen by four people in the past hundred years, and only one survived the experience. This brave soul was a man named Joaquin, and he had a beard to rival the greatest of beards. He was the greatest fisherman in the seven seas, but nobody acknowledged his great skills until he returned, barely clinging to life, after the epic sighting of the Mammalshark. Once he'd recovered, he began to prepare for another voyage to find the Mammalshark and get his revenge, but upon finding the creature again, he decided it was best to let the majestic creature live. After all, there was no need to kill a creature that hadn't actually caused the hurricane that had caused his boat to sink and his three best friends to drown.

Daily Story 71 - Snow Blob

It was a blob of snow. A scary, globby, cold, white, watery glob of snow with bits of dirt and sticks stuck in it. It was made of all sorts of snow, and it was mean. It wanted to kidnap all the town's children and force them to learn how to make perfect snowmen. It dreamed of being a perfect snowman someday, but it was dirty and ugly so it had no hopes of being a perfect snowman just yet. It had dreamt of this all its life, but the years had made it bitter and sad. So, it went around and tried to capture children, but it found the task difficult because it was a blob of snow. So, it continued to be a mean and bitter blob of snow until the spring came and it melted.

Daily Story 70 - The Dog

It used to be a puppy, but it grew up and became a dog. It barked at things and sniffed other dogs' butts. It ate dead birds and rolled in cow poop. It did many other things as well, and it was both disgusting and adorable.
Then it was kidnapped by aliens. Or maybe it would be dognapped.

Daily Story 69 - Mario Ruined My Life!

I like video games. I don't like shooting games that much, and I have troubles playing games where the main character is an idiot, because they force me to behave in a way that I never would, and it's just painful to sit through a lecture from the other characters even though I would have respected the rules if the game had given me a stinking choice *coughFinalFantasyXcoughcough* but hey, maybe that's just me. The ones that I like best are the ones that have some kind of plot, cute characters, and don't have some confusing as heck battle system that takes forever to figure out. The ones that you could swear were developed by a bunch of guys on weed are pretty awesome, too, because they appeal to my sense of humor.

I see a lot of the positive aspects to video games. So when I see articles like this one, I tend to get a little peeved. Not because I want to defend my precious video games, but because the argument it tries to make is flawed and could in fact cause parents to handle a video game addiction in a way that causes more problems than it solves. See, I haven't become addicted to video games, but I have had times where they have distracted me from more important things in life, but this isn't because I fell victim to the horrible addicting force of video games, but because there was an underlying Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder that made it difficult for me to prioritize. So, allow me to explain why I feel that this article does nothing to help children with gaming addictions, starting with the reasons that many kids are getting into hardcore gaming to begin with. First, let's look at what the article has to say on the subject:

"Greater amounts of gaming, lower social competence, and greater impulsivity seemed to act as risk factors for becoming pathological gamers..."

Look at it this way: if someone doesn't have the greatest social skills, then of course video games are going to be appealing. They're engaging, but they don't require incredible social prowess for the player to interact with the characters within the game. Your character's personality and response to others is programmed in, so all you have to do is go through and activate cutscenes. In other words, it's like being social with fictional characters, but the game does all the hard work for you. Honestly, how could that not appeal to someone who can barely get through a day at school without feeling like a social failure? As for that 'greater impulsivity' bit, yeah, video games are pretty good at occupying that bit of the human mind that impulsive people have a hard time getting to shut up. Without video games, this part of the brain would either remain unsatisfied or be occupied with some other semi-mindless task. For me, it's usually listening to music, drawing, or filling in coloring books that work the best at keeping this part of my mind occupied. Video games are simply an easily accessible entity that happens to be very good at satisfying that part of our brains that would otherwise drive us insane with its constant restlessness. And then that part about greater amounts of gaming... well, if you introduce something that is attractive to people with lower social competence and/or greater impulsivity, of course they're going to get obsessive over it if they get to do it a lot.

So, in short, someone like me would turn to video games because it fills a need that can't be filled in school or anywhere else. A need that already existed, not one that was created by the games themselves. Now, let's see what the article has to say about the results of constant gaming:

"...whereas depression, anxiety, social phobias, and lower school performance seemed to act as outcomes of pathological gaming."

Okay, so are we sure that this is strictly because of the video games and not an issue the kids would have developed regardless of whether they've turned into hardcore gamers? I mean, let's look at the risk factors again. Lower social competence and greater impulsivity. Last time I checked, both of those were related closely with anxiety disorders, so isn't it possible that the whole gaming thing is just a coincidence? Or, you know, also an outcome of the disorder that was already there by the time these kids started their hardcore gaming?

Now, you might say, "but what if there was no evidence of the children having this disorder before they became addicted to video games?" and all I can say in response is this: take two seconds to google 'anxiety disorders in children' and you'll see why this is one of those issues that gets me really riled up. Or heck, I'll save you the trouble and quote an article about anxiety disorders in children (link):

"According to the most recent data, the lifetime prevalence for anxiety disorders as a whole in adults is about 25%; the frequency in children is unknown, but felt to be significantly underreported and under-diagnosed. More specifically Social Anxiety Disorder has a lifetime risk of 17%, while Panic Disorder occurs in approximately 1-3% of the adult population.

"Although quite common, Anxiety Disorders in children often are overlooked or misjudged, despite them being very treatable conditions with good, persistent medical care.What does seem to be developing in the medical literature is the consensus that many “adult” psychiatric disorders likely have their first (although perhaps subtle or ignored) manifestations in childhood, and that if left untreated these anxiety disorders in children likely progress to adult versions."

I would definitely recommend reading the entire article, because it explains the issue of anxiety disorders in children very well, but I'm just going to focus on the lines I bolded in the above paragraphs. Notice the theme here? This kind of disorder doesn't always get noticed. Heck, I went through a full-on psychological evaluation in middle school and I didn't get diagnosed with an anxiety disorder until I was in college, after I had taken a basic psychology course, learned about social phobias, realized how closely it matched up with my own life, and began counseling with the anxiety theme as my focus. And yet, all my teachers would comment on how shy I was and how that was impeding my ability to participate in class. In other words, it was painfully obvious, and yet it didn't get diagnosed until I was an adult. So really, I wouldn't be surprised if some of these 'hardcore gamer kids' already suffered from an (overlooked) anxiety disorder before they developed their gaming addiction. Correlation does not always imply causation, people.

Also notice that the video game article says about 9% of the children studied were hard-core gamers. Looking at a few different pages about anxiety disorders (and mental disorders in general) it seems that at least 13% of children have an anxiety disorder of some kind. I'm willing to bet that there's some fairly major overlap between those two groups. Keep in mind, too, that anxiety and depression tend to be strongly associated with each other (read here for more info).

And now we come to my favorite part of the whole article: "And researchers connect the dots by saying the risk factors and behaviors could set the stage for long-term mental illness."

Because clearly these kids weren't headed on that path already. Yes, it's all Mario's fault that these kids are struggling with anxiety and depression. This has absolutely nothing to do with the way the child's brain is wired, it's all the fault of those pesky games that teach children horrible, horrible things that can never be unlearned.

Now, I am by no means arguing that video game addictions aren't a problem. They are. Personally, I've forgotten to eat meals because I was too busy playing a game, and I could give a few more personal examples showing how it can be a bad thing. However, whether video game addictions exist is not as important an issue as the reason video game addictions exist, and I am a firm believer that pathological gaming is not the cause of mental illness, but rather the result of mental illness. If your child is becoming a video game addict, then you would be doing a far greater service to your child to search for any underlying causes that might exist, and while it would be good to limit your child's access to video games, taking them away entirely or punishing the child for their excessive gaming habits is only going to make things worse, because as I've said before (link), having an undiagnosed disorder is painful. It makes you feel like you're not good enough because you can't behave the way people expect you to behave. So sure, taking away a kid's Nintendo might stop them from going on 10-hour gaming sprees all the time, but it's not going to change the way they feel about themselves. To solve the problems that result after excessive gaming, you need to address everything that could have caused these problems, which includes the gaming addiction itself and anything else that could be happening in the gamer's life, including whatever might have caused the addiction in the first place.

Just because you can't see a disorder doesn't mean it isn't there, and just because most disorders aren't diagnosed until the patient is an adult doesn't mean it didn't affect them as a child. My disorder is as much a part of me as my skin tone and hair color, and it's time we stopped blaming outside sources for inside problems when in reality, it's almost always the other way around.

Disclaimer: This is my own view on the subject, and as such some of the information used in my argument may not be 100% accurate.