"My marching soldier WILL NOT DIE!!!" --One of the many great quotes from Eric on Wednesday night--the first night we were hanging out in the hotel. Understand that this was said after we'd been talking about females and such things before we fell asleep. Yes, it does mean what you think it means. Many little spinoffs have come from it courtesy of Eric, Noor and me, the best of which being "Johnny'd better not come marching home" which I think was one of Noor's. That's just a bit o' stuff that I thought I would like to share with you guys. Because it's funny. And because I kept saying "I am SO putting this on my blog!"
I was reminded of these quotes by reading John's blog. I'll let him take that how he will. ::Evil laughter::
Right now I'm in the nerdy Computer Science Club with John. We decided a week or so ago that we would create a hardcore band with our 1337 musical skillz, and today is going to be our first practice--John (rhythm guitar), me (vocals), and maybe Eric (more guitar) and Nick (John's friend--keyboard/piano) will be in attendance. And right now John is sitting at the computer next to me and staring at my screen. The bastard knows nothing of blogging etiquette. By the way, if you play drums/bass and are not a jackass and live in Katy (believe it or not, anywhere between 40-60%--depending on the sample--of my readers are not Katyians! Boo yah!), then come into contact with me about joining our band. John's already sort of written a song for the rhythm guitar and he thinks it just might fit the lyrics I posted on my blog before I left for San Antonio, so we're almost original! Sorta! I wonder how much John's going to try to make this an actual hardcore band...
Ah, it is quite a nice feeling not to have to worry about Decathlon anymore. Honestly, I am quite saddened at the fact that we're not going to nationals, but in order for us to have really been in the running for first place, we would have had to work even harder, pissed even yellower, and died even deader. Did that make any sense? No. I figure that if I make a blog or two every now and again of exceptionally poor quality, then you guys will be more appreciative of the times when I give you golden script. In all honesty though, things would have been much different if we were even more insane about this, and chances are it would hurt a whole lot more.
Now John's talking about his brother. Who wore spandex. And ran around as the Trojan Man (you know, the one from the condom commercials) and then sent him pictures. Not only describe it, he described it with alacrity. I don't really have a problem with that, but dammit, this is the guy who refused to dress up as Ashley on Twin Day when Eric was looking for a partner. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be remembered for being that fine piece of peach-colored skin called Ashley Olsen than being Trojan Man, bringer of safe, though unsatisfying sex (FYI, I'm just taking that from SNL--though I honestly don't see how sex with condoms could be as satisfying as sex without... rubber...).
One more random subject before I log off. Let's see...
English class sucks. Why? More work than all my other classes combined! Even including government (which is waayyyyyy harder than economics--what? Actual homework?). It's very difficult for a Decathlete to properly balance school and Decathlon unless he's an A student (because if they don't do homework, they implode, so it's sort of necessary). This is especially true in English, where we're on a new book or series of poems or whatever every bloody week. Right now we're working on Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" and Flaubert's "Madame Bovary" (sounds like the former will be good, and the latter will be Jane Eyre). If I read both, I'll be very very impressed. Oh, and before I run, I've got two or three outstanding quiz grades--no, they're not good; they're assignments that I never turned in. Mrs. Miles is being ridiculously generous and giving me until tomorrow to turn them in, and I hope I bring myself to do them so that I don't start failing.
Hasta la byebye. I hope you all die. Cry cry cry. Why why why?
POETRY!
I was reminded of these quotes by reading John's blog. I'll let him take that how he will. ::Evil laughter::
Right now I'm in the nerdy Computer Science Club with John. We decided a week or so ago that we would create a hardcore band with our 1337 musical skillz, and today is going to be our first practice--John (rhythm guitar), me (vocals), and maybe Eric (more guitar) and Nick (John's friend--keyboard/piano) will be in attendance. And right now John is sitting at the computer next to me and staring at my screen. The bastard knows nothing of blogging etiquette. By the way, if you play drums/bass and are not a jackass and live in Katy (believe it or not, anywhere between 40-60%--depending on the sample--of my readers are not Katyians! Boo yah!), then come into contact with me about joining our band. John's already sort of written a song for the rhythm guitar and he thinks it just might fit the lyrics I posted on my blog before I left for San Antonio, so we're almost original! Sorta! I wonder how much John's going to try to make this an actual hardcore band...
Ah, it is quite a nice feeling not to have to worry about Decathlon anymore. Honestly, I am quite saddened at the fact that we're not going to nationals, but in order for us to have really been in the running for first place, we would have had to work even harder, pissed even yellower, and died even deader. Did that make any sense? No. I figure that if I make a blog or two every now and again of exceptionally poor quality, then you guys will be more appreciative of the times when I give you golden script. In all honesty though, things would have been much different if we were even more insane about this, and chances are it would hurt a whole lot more.
Now John's talking about his brother. Who wore spandex. And ran around as the Trojan Man (you know, the one from the condom commercials) and then sent him pictures. Not only describe it, he described it with alacrity. I don't really have a problem with that, but dammit, this is the guy who refused to dress up as Ashley on Twin Day when Eric was looking for a partner. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be remembered for being that fine piece of peach-colored skin called Ashley Olsen than being Trojan Man, bringer of safe, though unsatisfying sex (FYI, I'm just taking that from SNL--though I honestly don't see how sex with condoms could be as satisfying as sex without... rubber...).
One more random subject before I log off. Let's see...
English class sucks. Why? More work than all my other classes combined! Even including government (which is waayyyyyy harder than economics--what? Actual homework?). It's very difficult for a Decathlete to properly balance school and Decathlon unless he's an A student (because if they don't do homework, they implode, so it's sort of necessary). This is especially true in English, where we're on a new book or series of poems or whatever every bloody week. Right now we're working on Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" and Flaubert's "Madame Bovary" (sounds like the former will be good, and the latter will be Jane Eyre). If I read both, I'll be very very impressed. Oh, and before I run, I've got two or three outstanding quiz grades--no, they're not good; they're assignments that I never turned in. Mrs. Miles is being ridiculously generous and giving me until tomorrow to turn them in, and I hope I bring myself to do them so that I don't start failing.
Hasta la byebye. I hope you all die. Cry cry cry. Why why why?
POETRY!
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