Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Stream of Consciousness -- Once More!

Hello everyone! I just realized that it would be such a terrible shame if this blog lost momentum again. That would be so nasty. Kind of like what you'd imagine Godzilla's dirty laundry to smell like. Anywho, I can't think of anything to post, so I just thought I would make this up as I go along. You know, write whatever's on my mind.

While the first thing that popped into my mind was a brain floating in a pickle jar, the image quickly changed to two ballerinas dancing over the Alaskan tundra. Neither of those are particularly interesting converstation starters, I guess. I've never been good with conversation. Because of this, I generally let people approach me first. I will only approach someone first for a conversation if

1) Said someone is family
2) Said someone is a friend
3) Said someone is a talking lizard
4) Said someone is a very attractive member of the opposite sex.

Of course, 4 can only go so far. There is a certain threshold of cuteness, you see. If a boy is too cute, my brain shuts down and all I can do is giggle and gargle in his general direction. Like, I took my siblings out to Hardees for lunch, and I saw this really hunky army guy. Dang, was he a catch. We like totally made eye contact while I was getting lemonade from the fountain drink machine. But I couldn't say anything. He could have been my soul mate, darn it. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. So I drove off into the sunset, cursing my misfortune.

Speaking of cursing, apparently I can't drive without cursing at least once. I need to fix that. My issue will probably dwindle as my driving skills increase, and I therefore collide into less objects.

When I said "objects", I thought of a wind-up music box. What do you think when you hear the word "object"? It's interesting how the human mind works. Everyone thinks  differently. Scratch that. Most people think the same. For example, when I mentioned that there was a cute army guy earlier you probably imagined a tall, muscular lad with blond hair wearing camouflage fatigues. Not that it's bad that people think the same. It would be nice if we were all on the same page.

Speaking of pages, if I had a green tiger that would be really cool. I would be like, "Dude, I have a green tiger." And everyone would be jealous and wish that their tigers were green. But even better, I want an armadillo lizard. I mean, look at them!

I would name my lizard Amontillado. Everyone will be jealous that their exotic armadillo lizards aren't named Amontillado. I think that Amontillado should be our resident animal mascot.

SLOSHY THE KAPPA: Hey! What about me?

Sloshy, you're our resident mythical being mascot.

ALMONDO: What about me? I thought

Almondo, you're our resident fan-service mascot.

ALMONDO: I don't like Amontillado. His name is hard to say, but it's suspiciously similar to mine.

I grow bored of this. I need to talk about something else --

OMG SOCKS!!!!!!!! I <3 Socks!

I love cute socks almost as much as I love Batman-themed underwear. Woo! Go socks! Go! What do you think, Amontillado?


You know, I think you and another silent fellow would get along! Say hello, Potato!



POTATO: ....



We should have a wedding, yo! A totally awesome wedding!

Hmm, I don't remember eating this second ice cream sandwich. Did somebody put an empty wrapper on my desk when I wasn't looking?

It doesn't matter. I LOVE ice cream! Huzzah!

I'm going to tell you something very personal. It has to do with noses. And fear. It's a fear involving noses. You see, I'm afraid of standing above anyone because there is a chance that they will look up my nose. Good heavens, the things that could be in there. I mean, I have a clean nose. But I've seen some gross noses -- ew.

But I like ears. I have a thing for ears. Just look at ears. I could marry an ear. Don't judge me, okay? Everybody has a favorite body part, and I find ears to be absolutely adorable. I discovered this from a young age.

Feet make me mad, though. They are ugly, ugly things.  I have collapsed arches, a botched foot-surgery, and a couple other things that make it hard for me to walk every now and then. I would gladly trade my traitorous feet for a black man's. People would walk up to me and say,

"Child, are those black man feet?"

And I would say,

"Yes, yes they are."

Good times.

Imagine, me jogging across the beach with my new black man feet, smiling and laughing and tossing my hair. I would cast a flirtacious look at hunky military dude, and we would hold hands and run off together and I would finally have one of them "boyfriends" I always hear about. We would watch The Lord of the Rings and eat popcorn, and have a Nerf war afterwards. Hunk would let me win, though, because I suck at shooting things.

Good times, indeed.



  1. I like the part about driving skills... And I see someone has been hitting the sugar a bit hard.

    1. Shaddap. I'm not that bad of a driver. I know where you live.

      Hee. I only had one ice cream sandwich.