New Year
The other day, I found myself sitting in the car with my sister—who, might I add, is 16 and not legally licensed to be driving me anywhere—I got to thinking about life. Not the lives of those starving African children (as popular as they may be), but my life. I thought of all the things I want to do before kicking the bucket, the changes I want to make in the world, all the stories that have yet to be written… and then I saw a horse outside my window and remembered how much I hate those bloodthirsty demon spawns.
As I sat in the car, terrified for my life and vaguely wondering if my sister knew the difference between the accelerator and the brakes, I envisioned multiple methods of smothering any attempts that the horse population make at dominating the world. The feasibility of these ideas is only slightly questionable and most are foolproof. I’ve tested them.
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Invest in a large amount of Quaker Oats. Horses are well-known for their attraction to oats. We can play this weakness to our 
advantage by leaving a trail of oats (similar to Hansel & Gretel) that leads to a cliff. Because horses are bloodthirsty, we can tempt them over the edge by hanging a bloody, dead body off the side of the cliff, just out of their reach. When they reach for the body, they will lose their footing and fall off. Of course, for this plan to work, we also need a human sacrifice. This shouldn’t be too hard as I’ve heard of numerous people who wish to commit suicide. We simply have to persuade him or her into dying for mankind’s sake, rather than depression’s sake.
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Designate a small portion of the world to act as a horse enclosure. Since horses have a huge dislike for humans (it’s obvious from the way they kick their riders), giving them an area in which they can all be together and not in contact with people may cause their beastly urges to simmer down. An added benefit is that we will no longer be forced to clean up their poop (it’s scientifically proven that about 90% of a horse’s body is simply storage for waste—that’s why their excrement is so large). The ideal place for this horse habitat is K-Mart, also known as Hell. However, this plan may backfire because horses are known for holding grudges, and when they are all packed together in a motley crew of animals with ruffled feathers, they may use their combined brainpower to formulate a plan to get back at us. If this happens, refer back to #1.
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Horses are very stupid creatures. Their lack of intelligence is due to the aforementioned fact: their bodies are essentially full of shit. This leaves little room for a brain, and the resulting matter could barely pass as a peanut. Due to their stupidity, they can be easily manipulated. All you have to do is show them a limited amount of kindness (similar to the behavior of a dog) and it will in turn become reliant on you to provide its basic necessities. When you give the horse its daily food, be sure to lace everything with poison. Remember to do this quickly as horses are also known to be very self-serving and will turn on you as soon as they find greener pastures. Hopefully, by the time this happens, the horse will already be poisoned and any attempts it makes at betraying you will be thwarted by the toxic substance that has already been ingested.
Feel free to put any of the above to use. If you do, please take a picture and send it to me.
Happy new year!
Happy Birthday
Posted Monday, December 19th, 2011. Filed under Life. 2 comments.
15 years and some 9-odd months ago today, a particularly lucky sperm cell made a previously unfertilized egg very happy. 9 months after this joyous occasion, a pathetic-looking baby girl was born, much to the chagrin of the parents, who had been hoping for a boy. Despite their disappointment, the parents dutifully returned home, leaving their numerous “It’s a boy!” balloons floating unattended through the hospital. Now 15 years later, I am still very much a girl, though some would dispute the fact.
This morning, I woke up to the symphony of my little sister’s Taylor Swift alarm clock mixed with the unusual scent of my mom’s “special occasion” heart and flower-shaped pancakes. While I lay in bed, secretly singing along to “You Belong With Me”, I mentally checked my body for any changes since the day before. I don’t know what I was expecting; mostly I was just hoping for bigger boobs, but I wish for that every day and I suppose God just ignores me now.
Put off by my still-small chest, I got out of bed only to find myself home alone, unless you count the half-eaten pancakes that my mom left for me on the table. After appropriately disposing of them (one I tore into pieces and threw in the backyard, the other I ate), I spent the next few hours alternating between checking Facebook for new “happy birthday” messages, staring at the annoying strip of tape on my ceiling, and watching reruns of America’s Next Top Model. At one point I decided to get out some socks and draw faces on them for a half-assed puppet show, then later trashed the whole idea.
Eventually, my friend and her significant other decided that they would walk over to my house. They probably just wanted to borrow some eggs, but figured I would say no so they gave me my birthday presents to secure a yes. Their gifts included around $45 in drug money and a golden snow globe with a stupid picture of my face in it. If you pressed a specific button at the bottom of the snow globe, it sang a recorded track of Show Me Yo’ Bootyhole.
I am extremely excited about the snow globe because I feel that many people would be willing to buy it off me for a generous amount of money. I would then use the money to buy drugs a trained monkey that can do my laundry, clean my room, wash my hair, and brush my teeth while I sleep. I don’t think I will have a problem coming up with the money to buy the monkey (which I will name Leslie) as the snow globe is very valuable and I estimate it to be worth around $478,000. This is not only enough for the monkey, but it would also cover the price of the cage I would keep it in. The only flaw in my plan is that it would leave very little left over for the drugs necessary to keep the monkey from having the energy to turn on me like robots do in movies. However this problem can easily be avoided by simply not cleaning it. The money I would save on water and shampoo would hopefully level with the cost of drugs and everything works out.
If you are interested in buying my snow globe, please contact me ASAP. I expect there will be a lot of interest so act fast.
The Pilot
There comes a time in everyone’s lives when he or she just feels that they should let out their frustrations somehow, whether it be through complex mathematical equations written on a scrap sheet of paper (my sister’s favorite), punching a wall, getting totally hot and sweaty—in the gym, not in bed, you perv—or eating up anything he or she can get their hands on. As for me, my outlet is writing. I have a big mouth and I love talking about what goes on in my life. However, this is not always socially acceptable behavior and I’m not one to be needlessly impolite (a lie), so I’ve decided to direct all my frustrations to the Internet. This way, I can write about anything I like, and flatter myself by thinking that people find what I say interesting.
Before I go on, I’d like to let all my readers know to take everything I say with a grain of salt. Because I’m a self-proclaimed writer, I do make up stories. What I mean by this is that you shouldn’t believe anything I say on here because there’s a good chance that what I say is a lie. The beauty of writing, though, is that if you think it through well enough, no one will be able to pick up on your lies. Just look at this site. There are plenty of lies in this post alone (not really), and I bet you haven’t picked up on a single one.
I write for my own amusement, and I find amusement in adding both true and untrue details to all my stories. If I didn’t have the creative license to do that, I probably never would have decided to make a blog in the first place. This is not a diary. Therefore, I do not feel the need to be either completely candid or supremely secretive about what I say on here. I’m here to entertain myself, to give myself something to do in my spare time other than twiddle my thumbs and lick the cheese off my fingers after going through a bag of Cheetos.
In my blog, I hope to entertain you for maybe the 5 or 10 minutes it takes you to read one of my blogs, to humor you, to provide introspection (probably not), maybe even inspire you to create a blog of your own. I want to come out a better writer through this site. I don’t want to be just another blog you read. I want to be the blog you read. It may take a few months, it may take years, but I can’t wait to get started.
