Hey hun, you don't need to text me, I'm pretty sure your voice can carry the five feet we are away from each other.

Howdy Partner,

Here are just a few of the things that drive terminally me insane:
We'll start with the blog topic,
1.) When people text you when your in the same room with them. Just plain dumb.
2.) Stupid people. If your reading this and you are unaware if you may be one of these stupid people, here are the qualifications:
a.) If you say things that other people frequently don't know what the heck your talking about
b.) If you ask stupid questions, that have obvious answers. (yes I know "there are no stupid questions"... well I call bullshit)
c.) You don't think about what is coming out of your mouth until 30 seconds after you've said it.
d.) anything else I decide
3.) Weird-O's... Now I'm not talking just a little weird like corky, silly weird. I'm talking like really odd. like these guys:

Why doesn't somebody get them some help?

4.) Bad drivers. Okay, I'm not the best driver on the planet or anything but it really bothers me when people don't know how to drive. Old people pull out in front of me all the time because I guess they just don't care, people don't use turn signals, people don't stop at stop signs, etc. etc.

5.) My brother. He is possibly the most annoying being on this earth, he cannot keep his mouth shut for more than fifteen seconds. People say "that's what brothers are for, to annoy you." I say, "you know what sisters are for? Punching annoying brothers in the face."

6.) People who think they are so cool that everyone cares what they have to say.

7.) Mud. (yes I'm talking about the slightly more liquid like form of dirt) 

8.) Did I already say stupid people?

9.) Blogging. and number nine will conclude a three hundred word minimum.

Blog over. I win.

Wrestlers make way hotter actors.

I have come to the conclusion from this weekends movie watching that professional wrestlers look way better on the big screen. Two of my personal favorites, John Cena and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.

For starters I'd like to inform you that I had not liked John Cena at all until I saw the movie Twelve Rounds. )(The Marines isn't too bad either) I wasn't attracted to John Cena the wrestler, but John Cena the movie star is pretty flipping hot.

Proof:

Not Hot. 

 Super Hot.

Okay, "The Rock" was attractive as a wrestler, but he was way more attractive in movies like: Faster, The Scorpion King, and  Game Plan.

Proof:

A Tiny Bit Hot.

Very Very Hot.

I have decided throughout this blog that the difference between them in the movies and them wrestling is the fact that they have clothes on. Now usually it's the opposite, guys without shirts on are hotter, but since these men are always half naked in their little wrestling speedos it's nice to see them with some clothes on. Maybe the clothes make them more attractive because it gives me a sense of some false modesty from them since they're usually showing off there huge muscles.

Mystery Solved. I Win.

However there is a catch, It just doesn't work for some men. Some of them just got worse, more ugly.

 Kevin Nash, otherwise known as "Big Sexy,"

 is not really that "Sexy", before or after the acting.

Triple H... Well I hope none of those "H"s stand for hot.

Mr.Dykstra = Brain Aneurysms

I have a very intense head ache right now, but Mr.Dykstra is going to kick my butt if I don't write a blog. (or maybe just give me the finger again) If my headache turns out to be some sort of cancer or internal bleeding in my brain, and I have a stroke or a brain aneurysm in my sleep, I want you to feel bad Mr.Dykstra. Even though if I had some sort of dysfunction in my brain, it would be troublesome whether I was writing this blog or not, I'm still going to blame stupid blogging.

Theory 1: Because I have to stay up and write these blogs every Sunday night, the immense fatigue is causing the amount of oxygen flowing to my brain to decrease. Due to this blood is flowing slower, and is less oxygenated and therefore denser than average, causing blood clots. So the blood is getting blocked in my brain and bursts a vein...kapoowi internal brain bleed. Brain aneurysm in my sleep.

Theory 2: Because Mr.Dykstra makes us do all kinds of stupid comma things and semi colon junk, my DNA code is malfunctioning because he is trying to shove too much useless information into it. In case you did not know, Semi Colons in DNA form code for brain cancer.

So I have come to the conclusion that Mr.Dykstras class is fatal to my health.
Good Night.
I win.

A Lie Called Symbolism.

Hello friends, I am going to be discussing a topic we have all experienced if you passed the 6th grade. Symbolism.

My Opinion on the Subject:
I think symbolism is something teachers and theorists (yes that is a real word click) have created to spice up lesson plans and give themselves the appearance of depth and creativity in their thinking. Some times a tree is just a freaking tree. Could you believe they have entire web pages devoted to the "symbolism" of different trees.

Apple Tree: symbolize magic, youth, beauty and happiness

Birch Tree: symbolize new beginnings and cleansing of the past.

Ect. Ect.

I don't know about you... But I don't get the sense of magic, youth beauty or happiness out of that.(above)

Or  new beginnings and cleansing of the past from this. (above)

Check out the rest of these crazies: Weirdo Tree Website

Do people really feel the need to pick apart every single thing in life to see what it "means", what if there isn't always a hidden meaning, what if some times a tree really is just a tree, not a glimpce of hope or new beginings. What if it's just a tree, just a plant.  

I would literally piss my pants to see a world renowned English professor ask, if he weren't dead,  Frances Hodgson Burnett (author of the infamous book of symbolism, The Secret Garden) about all the "symbolism" in the story and have him tell he/she that there just isn't any, it's just a story.

Why can't people just except things, and stories for the shallow arts they are. By trying to dig so deeply into a story about what it "really means" causes you to completely miss the intentions of the author in the first place.

The End. This is a never ending battle, so I can't really win.

Iowa Laws

Well, I'd like to start this blog by telling you another life lesson I have learned this week.

Hypothetically speaking, If I were a person who sang in the shower and happened to be washing my face at the same time, it may or my not be a good idea because face wash may or may not taste good. Remember this is all hypothetical.

But anyway, I have nothing to write about, and I'm tired. I don't want to write about anything right now, but guess what? I have to. So here are dumb Iowa laws and my responses.

 Laws:

1. It is a violation of the law to sell or distribute drugs or narcotics without having first obtained the appropriate Iowa drug tax stamp.
2. A man with a moustache may never kiss a woman in public.
3. One-armed piano players must perform for free.
4. Kisses may last for no more than five minutes.
5. Tanning bed facilities must warn of the risk of getting a sunburn.
6. A board was created to regulate among other things, hearing aids.
7. Ministers must obtain a permit to carry their liquor across state lines.
8. Doctors who treat a person with gonorrhea must report this to the local board of health and include the disease’s “probable origin”.
9. All boxes used to pick hops must be exactly 36 inches long.

Ok, responses:

1. I'm pretty sure it is a violation to sell drugs in general.
2. I really hate moustaches, and kissing in public, so I'm going to have to approve of this one.
3. Well, I don't think a one armed piano player would be very good so I don't think anyone would pay him for his efforts, so I disapprove.
4. I think they should add "in public" 
5. You are dumb if you don't know this. But for the people who are dumb enough to give themselves skin cancer may need this obvious information posted in their face.
6. I don't really know what this means
7. I'm wondering one, what is the penalty, and two, could they have somebody else carry their liquor across the border?
8. This one is just quite funny.
9. I'm not a farmer. I don't know the significance of this.

Taa Daaa! Done. I win.

Life Lessons

I'm deciding to make a list of interesting snid bits of information I have come across in my life time, purely for your entertainment. Following the bits will be the name of the person I learned this from.

1.) You can peel a clementine in one piece. - Grant Johnson
2.) If you blow dry your eye lash curler on high heat before you use it on your lashes, the curl will hold better. - Macke Rodamaker
3.) Party Streamer doesn't taste good. -Gabi Francis
4.)  You shouldn't kiss Justin Bieber on the lips because his breath might stink. - Anna (my five year old sister)
5.) You can't learn how to drive an 18 wheeler by watching YouTube videos- Mike (my step dad, who is a real truck driver, unlike my self despite my Internet attempts)
6.) Never let your 66 year old grandmother give you a sex talk. -I know this one from personal experience
7.) Be on time - My grandma (not the sex one, the other one.) who is consistently half and hour early.
8.) You should remember to wear spankies under your show choir dress. -Keely Hertzel
Mr.Dykstra Section:
9.) Don't kiss in the hallways of Mason City High School - Mr.Dykstra
10.) If you are a boy, don't use the urinal right next to anyone else. - Mr. Dykstra
11.) If you are a freshman boy, don't touch other freshman boys. -Mr.Dykstra
12.) Don't call inanimate object homosexual because it probably has no sexual preference. -Mr. Dykstra 
13.) How to spell the word inanimate -My mother...30 seconds ago

and that's pretty much all I can think of right now. So... If you have any life lessons you would like to share with me that would be fabulous, and technically considered continuing the conversation, making it easy for you to get points for commenting. Your welcome.

I help you, you help me... so,
I win.

Dear Blog, no offense but... I want nothing to do with you.

I have come to the conclusion that blogging is not a creative outlet or a way for me to express myself and my feelings... "Blogging" is just a pain in the butt created by Mr. Dykstra to not only ruin my Sunday evenings but, exploit my personal thoughts and opinions. What if this week I didn't feel passionate enough about something to spout out my highly opinionated thoughts to people that don't really care and are only following this stupid blog because of a class assignment.
Yes, things may come up in my life that I am more than welcome to tell everyone what I think about them, but what if it wasn't one of those weeks? I like to write about things that I have a lot to say about, and I don't have a whole lot to say about anything right now. (except how much I hate the requirement of one blog post a week) I don't want to read one hundred blogs titled "What I Did This Weekend" for the simple fact that I could care less what anybody did with there weekend unless you found a cure for cancer or at least an event of equivalent importance. Now, In saying this I am fully aware that all of you could probably care less what I did with my weekend, which is why I'm not telling you. (Yes I realize my last post was about my weekend, but I find the event of my dad playing twister quite astonishing, plus It was last minute, as is this.)
Forty. That's how many words I have left until I am put out of my misery by this blog being done. 
Nineteen...more words till I stop hating life.
Eleven. Is the quantity of words till bedtime.
Three. I. totally. win.

The Blog Post of Procrastination.

Because I have nothing to write about and it is now about 10:00 pm Sunday evening and I haven't started my blog yet, a blog that happeneds to be due tomorrow, I have decided to tell you what has kept me from doing this blog all weekend. (in list form)
Let's start with Friday
1.) I didn't go to school because I had to go to the chiropractor, get electro therapy, and was very much in pain.
2.) I couldn't do it when I was done with that because then I had to go to the hospital to get needles stuck in me, my blood stolen, and pee in a cup.
3.) After that I HAD to go to "someones" hockey game (*cough* Jacob Nonnweiler *cough*)
4.) When I got home from that at 11:00pm I had to pack and go to my dads house.
5.) I went to bed as soon as I got there.
6.) I slept in a wee bit late (like 9:00ish) because I haven't been sleeping well because of my back.
7.) When I got up I ate breakfast and took a shower, and everybody knows you cant type a blog in the shower.
8.) Then I plugged in my laptop in attempt to do some homework, but conveniently my Internet explorer wasn't working, making blogger and other necessary websites inaccessible.
9.) So I said forget that for the moment and my grandma took us shopping and out to lunch.
10.) By the time we got back from lunch my dad was home and this forty-four year old father of mine with severe arthritis and both of his hips replaced wanted to play twister? What was he thinking? I don't know.
11.) After a half an hour of a memory scaring game of twister consisting of my dad cheating by sitting on the floor and using the chair as a support, my computer was still not working.
12.) I pretty much wasted the rest of my Saturday lounging around doing absolutely nothing productive. In my defence I tried getting the Internet to work several more times even if the motivation of those attempts was to check my facebook.
13.) Sunday morning: I have given up on my computer...the end
14.) Sunday afternoon: I go back to my moms, take a shower (once again, you can not write blogs in the shower) and sit around until diner time, not doing a blog for I have a complete lack of motivation.
15.) Sunday night: I went over to Jake's house, I brought my computer, yet another attempt to do homework. The Internet was still not working... Story of my life.
16.) Went home at about 9.30, took a shower (shower, wet, not good for computers, no blog in shower. Get the picture?) and now sitting here at 10:25 I am still writing this dumb blog.

Not that there is really anything to win here, except completing my blog. But...Since I started this trend.

Case clear, I win. (Kinda)

  

Excuse me ma'am your child is a robot.

This weekend when I was supposed to be writing this blog and typing my paper I was wasting away watching television. The show I happened to be watching was called "Toddlers in Tiaras" which for those of you that don't know is a show about beauty pageants for children ages zero to about eight. Anyway, they dress these little girls up like hookers and teach them to flounce around shaking their hips and flipping their hair. These mothers train their little girls these behaviors starting at age two and claim that it's "making their children better people" and "teaching them values". Sure they are learning "values", if you consider teaching them that it's all about looks and that they aren't good enough being themselves something positive. So basically from age two or three they are thinking that they need these "enhancements" like fake hair, fake teeth, make-up and fancy clothes to be beautiful. This my friend is insecurity in the making. These mothers and coaches are "training" the personality right out of the girls turning them into robots. If you are told what to do, how to act, when to smile, you lose your sense of self and with that personality and individuality. Some of the mothers on the show made their five year old practice at lease twice a day for one or two hours. This is just ridiculous. Sure dressing up and putting on make-up may seem fun for little girls, but the competitiveness the moms are programming into them is going to effect them negatively in the long run. They are going to think they are better than every one else because their mothers are feeding them false confidence. Another thing I don't think is right is the fact that the mothers say that as soon as her daughter says she doesn't want to do this anymore they will stop.

For one: how is a two year old suppose to express that clearly?

Two: I don't know what planet these moms grew up on but to me usually crying is a form of discomfort and they should be able to read that sign that the child isn't happy. 

Three: Some of the older kids feel like the have to do this for their mothers approval and maybe they are scared to say they don't want to.

Children are adorable without fake plastic smiles, false eyelashes and polished appearances. And telling them they need more than to just be themselves develops self esteem issues.  Causing these children to grow up thinking that the only way to earn money is through their bodies, which is not true.
Child Pageant Queen = Future Prostitute
 They develop eating disorders to stay "perfect" for the approval of their parents which is just wrong.

Case clear. I win.

Shaped vs. Normal Mac and Cheese

Dear parents of the world, an extreme dilemma has been brought to my attention latelyy.
Problem: My mother just does not understand my macaroni needs as a teenager.

Example A:
Setting: Grocery Store, Macaroni Isle.
Here's how it went down:
Mom: Erin were out of mac and cheese could you go grab a few boxes
Me: Of course my wonderful mother, I always do as you ask.
(I bring back 2 boxes of delightfully shaped (Toy Story and Spongebob) Kraft Macaroni and Cheese)
Mom: Why didn't you just get the regular kind
Me: These taste better
Mom: No blah blah they taste the same blah

The thing is, parents neglect to believe that shapes taste better because they are either class A fun suckers, or they were raised in a separate dimension where things that taste good are a sin. However I believe that they are wrong because there are several solid facts proving that they really are the better choice.
#1: Because they are shaped like Buzz Lightyear or Spongebob (ect. ect.) instead of boring curved tubes they hold the cheese better giving you a more satisfying amount of cheese with every bite.
#2: They are more fun to eat because you can pretend you are a giant eating little tiny people
#3 (parents should like this one) They use more of a whole grain blend to make the noodles which is healthier and helps them hold their shape.

Thus, in conclusion, my mother has either been brainwashed by martians into believing lies that they taste the same, or she is just a fun sucking jerk ball.

However, in recent days since the incident, her attitude towards the subject has improved. I may again be able to accept her as my mother if things continue to move in a positive direction.

Case clear. I win.