My Erotic Blog Post

Marissa, your comments before class, although somewhat crass, have inspired this post. This is MY EROTIC BLOG POST.

Okay, this is something that has been bothering me ALL SEMESTER. I sit here in the back facing this painting by Georgia O'Keefe called "Grey line with black, blue, and yellow" and I just have to ask: Does anyone else think this painting looks like a gaping vagina??? It creeps me out! Every time I come to class I have this giant snooch staring me down. How am I supposed to blog with something like that going on???

"STEEEEEEVVVVEEEE!!! Acknowledge my presence, or fear my wrath!!!!!"

Good god, this painting is going to destroy my grade. Damn you, Georgia. I kept thinking that O'Keefe's work would kill my grade until I looked over and saw her other painting in class. It's just some flowers. Is it possible my perverted mind just drew this sexual comparison out of nothing? Nope. I looked up other paintings by this pornographer, oops, I mean artist, and found that other paintings of hers bear resemblance to the uhhh...lady-bits.

Try to guess which one wasn't painted by Georgia O'Keefe. Yeah, so pretty much all her paintings have some kind of female genitalia undertone. Or as I like to call it, SMUT.

And what in the hell is this thing?

I'm not EVEN going there.

Or how about the masterpiece "Ice Cave" or Georgia's first working title, "My Crotch on a Very Cold Day"

Brrrrrrr.

These next two winners I thought were the same painting at first. Then I noticed the subtle difference. But why make two paintings so similar? Then, like the brilliant detective I am, I figured out what must be going on here.

Maybe I'm just not "artsy."

I'm going to stop there, but trust me people, they only get worse. I'm sure there's probably some lame artistic explanation like, "She was portraying the miracle of life by exposing the similarities between the growth of a flower and the growth of human life in the womb." Here's my interpretation: "She was showing eveyone that flowers look like noonies." Well congrats, Georgia. You've been able to make money off your sick pleasures, but this is one guy who ain't buying your excuse. One last thought:

How about a little discretion next time?

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My second blog presentation

This is my second blog presentation...IN TWO DAYS! Thanks, Donna.

No, just kidding. For this presentation, I thought I would take you all to the forefront of blogging. The most instantly gratifying way to cover breaking news: Moblogs. Moblogs are blogs that are posted from mobile devices, like cell phones or PDAs. Although this technology has only recently went mainstream, the first internet post from a mobile device was made in 1995 by Steve Mann, professor in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at the University of Toronto. He made this post from a wearable computer. Here is a picture of Mann with this device, I'm NOT MAKING THIS UP:

Looks more like he's preparing to time-travel, not post on the internet. And he bears a striking resemblance to Turbo-Mech, the Tank transformer:

Oh well, thank god we don't live in that age anymore. Now the extent of equipment needed to post to the internet can fit comfortably in your pocket.

And unlike their predecessors, Mobloggers are now able to use their phones to post pictures and video on the internet mere seconds after capture. With all of this technology literally at your fingertips, blogs are leaving conventional news media in the dust. An article from USC Annenberg headlines Moblogs Seen as Crystal Ball in New Era of Online Journalism. Keep in mind this was posted 3 years ago, and Moblogging has only gained popularity since then. Futurist author Howard Rheingold is quoted from his book, Smart Mobs asking, "What if smart mobs could empower entire populations to engage in peer-to-peer journalism? Imagine the power of the Rodney King video multiplied by the power of Napster. ... Putting video cameras and high-speed Net connections in telephones, however, moves blogging into the streets. By the time this book is published, I'm confident that street bloggers will have constructed a worldwide culture." Well, Howard, you were right. Moblogging is more popular today than ever before and as cell phones are becoming ever more powerful, the potential of Moblogs is continuously growing, and no end seems to be in sight. But as we all know: Moblogs, Mo' Problems. This is the extreme in the battle between bloggers and conventional news media. The main complaint of the mainstream news with bloggers has always been with reliabilty. Can you really trust your news when potentially anyone with a computer can post whatever they want, calling it truth with no verification to back it up? After all, Moblogs are usually posted immediately after the fact, and we all know how stories can change, even in professional news. We've all seen a story on the news start out as something and develop over time as more details come out. And moblogs run the risk of posting news with little or no investigation.
Obviously, if you want ROCK SOLID news watch TV or read reliable newspapers. But if you're one of those cutting edge, "gimme-it-now" news people, check the latest moblogs. You'll see news from anywhere, as it happens.

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People almost dying is SO funny!

What is it about people getting hurt that is SO freaking funny? I can't figure it out. It's not just the sight of it, because it's not funny when it's fake, like slapstick comedy is so lame. Like the 3 Stooges? What the hell? How was that ever funny? One guy says something dumb and another guy calls him a "Chowderhead" and hits him on the head. But when somebody slips and bounces down a flight of stairs on their ass, I can't stop laughing. Or when a little kid wants something another kid has so he just jacks the kid in the face and takes it, OH MAN, that cracks me up! And nothing makes me laugh harder than when people on campus fall on their bike! It's too funny! I love going to sites like ebaumsworld and checking out the latest videos, because much of them are people falling or getting racked in the nuts. It's a basic human instinct to enjoy the misfortunes of others. Why do you think Jackass was such a huge success? Because the hosts were charming and witty??? Guess again, it's because we are strangely intrigued by somebody getting beat up. Everyone has a favorite story of their friend getting hurt. Personally, I love it when people almost die on trampolines, or as I like to call them, "Spring-loaded child injury machines." Who ever thought, "Let's give kids an aparatus that flings them several feet into the air, in the hopes that they land on back on it." and how did this thing get past toy safety boards? I've seen recalled items far less dangerous than trampolines. But then, maybe on the Consumer Product Safety Commission has the same sense of humor I do. It would be a shame to miss out on your friend flying off the side and into mud. That's funny. I think trampolines are actually helping society. Think of evolution and the theory of natural selection. Those less fitted for survival die off, eliminating chance of reproduction, so only the best at surviving pass on their genes. So when some moron tries to do a double backflip off a trampoline and ends up doing a one and a quarter, it's actually good for the species. My family has had a trampoline since I was little. I did all the flips and cartwheels and whatever stunts you can think of, but I never once got hurt. No one has ever gotten seriously injured on our trampoline, even when we had like four kids bouncing around at one time. And ours is old school too, none of these walls of netting and padding that go around trampolines today. We don't even have a pad over the springs. Once, when my parents weren't home, my brother and I pushed the trampoline over to the side of the house and I jumped off the roof onto it. It was a huge rush, and I knew how to control myself, so all that happened was I bounced incredibly high, and then I stopped myself the next time I landed. Could I have gotten hurt? Of course. Did I? No. Would it have been funny as hell if I had? OH YEAH!

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My Blog Presentation

I have to admit, I'm not the most computer literate person but even I can do this. For this presentation, I'm going to show you how to make a photo album for your blog. There are a few you can use, some you have to pay and some are free. Some options are
Kodakgallery
Smugmug
Shutterfly
Fotki
I like Fotki best, it's free and really easy. So, if you ever want to make a photo album for your blog go to Fotki and click join now on the right side of the screen. From there, you just follow the standard signup instructions and once you've logged in, you're ready to start uploading photos. It's pretty self explanatory and a great way to show your friends and family your favorite photos in a convenient form.

I made my first album yesterday with some photos I collected from emails from my family. Once you've got the album all ready, you can make a post with a nice little introduction and post a link to the slideshow.

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7 reasons why Bruce Lee kicked ass

This is the last thing you will see before you crap your pants and die.

God, I wish Bruce Lee was still around. And before I get comments about any significance of Jackie Chan or his monkeyish successor, Jet Li, let me just say that Bruce Lee could punch both of those circus acrobats right out of show business. So as we can all agree that Bruce Lee is the only notable Asian ever in action movies, or really the only one in any kind of multinational entertainment, let's examine reasons why Bruce Lee kicked ass.


1. His nickname is "The Dragon." Bruce Lee is the only person in the history of human existence cool enough to pull off such a nickname. Other action heroes could only dream of such badassity, such as Arnold Schwarzeneggar mockingly known as "the Governator" or Sylvestor Stallone known as "the douchebag that made Judge Dread."


2. His stunts have become legendary. He once side-kicked a 150 lb. punching bag in half. And he also did one-handed pushups using only two fingers. Don't believe me? It has since gone down as legend, but check the facts. It happened. He could have just as well kicked you in half, and then thrown Jean Claude Van Damme through a car windshield.


3. You can actually understand him when he talks.
"EET'S NOT AH TOO-MUH!" -Arnold Schwarzeneggar, Kindergarden Cop
"Well, den yeh gan tell Bai-zon det I'm cah-ming fer heem." -Jean Claude Van Damme, Street Fighter
"Ceh-na you onner stan deh wuds det ah coming out of my mouf?" -Jackie Chan, Rush Hour
"I weew be deh wahn." -Jet Li, The One
And Vin Diesel's obvious attempts to conjure up an image of manliness lead him to speak in such low octaves that dialogue can only be discerned with the use of a seismograph. Is it really that difficult for Hollywood to find someone who can fight and talk? Is there no one out there who can do this? There was, Bruce Lee.


4. He made martial arts cool. I don't know about you guys, but when I think of martial arts I think of nerdy little twerps in karate outfits grunting in a gym, oh sorry I mean "Dojo", for some Asian immigrant who figured out that ignorant Americans will pay good money to any Asian for karate lessons. Never mind that three weeks ago the guy was cutting off fish heads in Hong Kong. But Bruce Lee could do martial arts with such fury, and at the same time such grace, that it made Kung Fu something other than what 10 year old geeks try to learn to stop the daily ass-whippings from schoolyard bullies. Face it, when Bruce Lee twirls nunchuks, you want to see how much more amazing he can be. When little Scotty twirls nunchucks, you want to see him crack his skull open.


5. Bruce Lee doesn't need people making up random ridiculous facts about him to proclaim his greatness. His films and life's work speak for themselves. So while Chuck Norris has supposedly roundhouse kicked someone into another dimension, Bruce Lee really has knocked out a man with a 1 inch punch (a blow with no draw-back, just holding the fist one inch away from the target). Chuck Norris isn't good enough to stand in the same fighting-ring as Bruce Lee, which is lucky for Chuck since anyone who ever stepped in the ring with Bruce Lee was rendered unable to bear children for life.


6. He was a real life David vs. Goliath. Bruce Lee defied all expectations and excelled at whatever he put his mind to. Keep in mind, he was tiny, only 5'7" 135 lbs. but he wasn't afraid to fight ANYBODY. Not only did Bruce Lee defeat opponents towering over him in REAL, UNSTAGED martial arts tournaments, but he overcame the long-standing stereotype that Asian men at that time were expected to be meek, polite house servants, and instead exploded into the film industry as a an action hero with the most electrifying fight scenes to ever appear on screen. And unlike David, Bruce Lee doesn't decapitate his victims. Bruce Lee leaves them to rot as they lay, as they are unworthy of the effort it would take to disgrace them.


7. All of his movies revolve around him kicking people's asses. No campy filler about saving the world, or something lame like that. His last movie, "Game of Death" is about a treasure at the top of a pagoda. Fight your way to the top and get the treasure. Simple as that, now let's go. See? It makes for a great movie. Not only that but he beats the crap out of Karim Abdul Jabir at the end. Thank god somebody got around to knocking that oaf out. But seriously, I don't care if the only hope is Keanu Reeves saving the planet from ultimate destruction. Bruce Lee's take on movies was: This guy is bad so I'll destroy him. They just don't make Kung Fu movies like they used to. Here's to you, Bruce. I hope that one day, we'll meet in heaven. And you'll kick my ass.

Bruce Lee is all that is MAN.

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Being alive is linked to cancer!

After my last post, I started thinking about the dangers of being a redhead. Since Spring has really started and the sun has come out, I got a slight sunburn playing frisbee the other day. Maybe I should be continuously wearing sunscreen once April begins, because redheads are more likely to develop skin cancer. But then I started thinking about how EVERYTHING gives you cancer. You stand out in the sun too long. Oops! You got cancer. You talk on a cell phone. Whoops, that's gonna need some chemo! Seriously, I searched for "linked to cancer" and found these results:
Protein linked to cancer
Uneven breasts linked to cancer
Soft Drinks linked to cancer
Cell phone linked to cancer
Plastics linked to cancer, AND as a double whammy, linked to genital abnormalities
Severe arthritis linked to cancer
Mental health linked to cancer
Living in cages linked to cancer (So, seriously, don't live in a cage. You'll get cancer.)
Deodorant linked to cancer
Milk linked to cancer
Low cholesterol linked to cancer Talk about damned if you do and damned if you don't!
Pain killers linked to cancer
Water treatment linked to cancer
Oral sex linked to cancer
MicroRNAs linked to cancer
MicroRNAs? What the hell? I don't even know what that is to avoid it. And oral sex gives you cancer? Screw that, I think I'll take my chances. Oh, and pain killers give you cancer! Doesn't that mean that if you have cancer the pain killers make it worse? I half expected to find that I'm somehow giving myself cancer right now. Latest headline: SCIENCE DISCOVERS THAT AIR IS LINKED TO CANCER! Uh oh, this just in: SCIENCE DISCOVERS THAT STUDYING CANCER IS LINKED TO CANCER! There's no escape!!! Oh, forget it. We're all gonna get cancer. So for all you lucky pigmented people out there, get a tan. You might as well look good while you still can. Because when you're old and wrinkled from all the tanning, with one boob or one ball from the resulting cancer, you can look back at pictures of yourself on the beach and think, "Damn, I was sexy!"



Sadly, this little girl contracted cancer from exposure to dog saliva and died.

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Hey, Red!

I'm a ginger kid. I'm a pale-skinned, freckled, blue-eyed, ginger kid. Always have been, always will be. I don't even think about it, really. But I've noticed that for other people, it defines me. Why? My hair is red, so what? Apparently, there is A LOT that goes with it. Some people with red hair feel a lot of different emotions about it. Some love their ginger locks, while other detest it. According to a study done by researchers at the University of Northern Iowa, red headed men rate on average less attractive than all other types and ethnicities. And a vast majority of expectant parents said that they desired red hair least of all other types for their children. Great, now I gotta rely on my charm and charisma to get girls... Well that's hopeless. Oh well, marriage and families, and happiness in general is overrated. I started thinking about this when I happened across fan club for redheads. A fan club? What is this fascination of red hair that blondes and brunettes have? I know a lot of the members are redheads who love their hair. But it's just hair color! I guess it has something to do with how rare it is. Less than 4% of the world has naturally red hair, and less than 2% in America. The largest concentration of red hair is in Ireland, at 13%, next Scotland with 10%. As such a rare occurance, there has been a lot of myths about red heads. Why is that redheads are expected to be excitable and short-tempered? Is it just the symbolism of fire and anger? Our society has placed some standards on red heads. Here's a few interesting facts from the past:

In Greek mythology, redheads turn into vampires when they die.
In the 16th century, fat of a redheaded man was an ingredient for poison.
During the Spanish Inquisition, redheads were assumed to have stolen fire from hell, and were executed.
Women with red hair were commonly accused of being witches during the time of the Salem Witch Trials.
At St. Paul's Cathedral in London, paintings of Adam and Eve tell the story of the Original Sin. In the beginning, Eve's hair is blonde. After the sin is committed, Eve's hair has turned red.
Adolf Hitler banned the marriage of two redheads for fear that their children would be "deviant offspring."

Wow, I'm glad I didn't live back then. Now the only thing I have to put up with is random old people feeling the need to excitedly greet me wherever I go with, "Hey, Red!" And you know, there are a lot of beneficial aspects of being a carrot-top.

Red hair doesn't turn gray, it turns a sandy color. Red heads also usually don't go bald with age.
It has been proven that people seeing red hair have increased metabolism, heart rate, and respiration. So I guess you should marry a redhead. It's healthier.
For some reason, red headed people are harder to sedate than all other types. A 2002 study showed that redheads require 20% more anesthesia.
Redheads usually have better vision and sense of smell, with worse hearing. Blondes and brunettes have been found to have no tendency towards increases or decreases in any of the senses.
True story: My redheaded little sister, Maureen, went to the St. Louis Zoo with my mom. They went to the Orangutan habitat and found tons of kids shouting at the lazy, oblivious orangtuan behind the glass. My sister got up to the glass, not shouting or waving or jumping around, and the Orangutan noticed her, got up, and walked over to the glass face-to-face with Maureen. She put her hand on the glass, and the orangutan did the same!

I'm not making this stuff up, people. So basically, I'm a short tempered, less-attractive witch, whose fat is poison and commited the Original Sin after stealing fire from hell, and I don't have to worry about grey hair or baldness, while seeing you and smelling you better but I can't hear you, who would produce deviant offspring with another redhead. Oh yeah, and I'm going to become a vampire when I die. Whatever, I have red hair, no big deal. Just give me some SPF 45 sunblock, and I'll be fine.

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My Crusade

Hwæt! Birds fear me. My entire life, I've been engaged in a constant battle with birds of all kinds. Seagulls, Crows, Woodpeckers, I've taken them all on and emerged victorious each and every time. So far, the war has been held at a stalemate. After every feathered fiend I destroy comes a new, greater threat. I had begun to think that I was only delaying the inevitable; that there could be no end, no chance for peace. That is, until last September when the tides turned in my favor. One fateful Saturday night, I was attacked by a force the likes of which had never been seen. And because I believed in myself, shall never be seen again. At some point in the night, I had found a large wooden staff in the ground and took it with me. Maybe it was the staff that found me but nevertheless, destiny brought us together. Although my friends thought nothing of it, I knew in my heart that this night would be one to remember. We arrived back to our parking garage sometime around 3 in the morning. Here, in this concrete temple, a legendary battle ensued. As we walked unsuspectingly to the stairs, a beast suddenly attacked. The beast was none other than my arch nemesis, the pigeon. This creature was massive, I tell you. Its feathers ruffled, its talons sharp, and its beak extending from its twisted head, pointing at me, silently saying, "You're going to die tonight." Taken with fear, I looked around for some saving grace. There, still in my clutches, was the staff I had found earlier. But it wasn't enough. A simple wooden rod could never take down such a monster. And then I realized, the power that would destroy this bird is not the staff in my hands, but the hands themselves. I knew if I were to triumph, it would be through my own strength, my own intellect, my own courage. Our eyes met. My friends, the bird, and myself all knew that I had finally met my match. Then, it happened. My foe took flight and surged right at me. In a perfect convergence of body and mind, I harnessed my skills of war and thrust my staff into the breast of the beast! It fell to the ground, lifeless. I had defeated the monster in one fell swoop. My friends returned to my side and we walked back to my room. There was a common realization among us that the dead bird really hadn't been my match. It was just another of my countless fallen enemies. No one spoke, as we were still in a bit of shock at what we had just witnessed. I continue my crusade against the villains of the sky, and the staff rests in my room to this day.

It rests, but for how long?

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The school year is 6 weeks too long

I have a complex where every year on my birthday I get into this rut where I just don't want to do anything for school. Don't want to open a book, or write a paper, or sit through classes. I just want to go camping. I love camping. Every year, my whole family goes to Meramec State Park in Sullivan, MO and stays there for about 10 days or so. This is something I look forward to all year. Seriously, on the ride home from camping I think, "Man, I can't wait to go camping next year." It's not a bother until my birthday. Every year, after March 24, for some reason I lose all motivation for school. I'll do just enough to keep the grades I have been earning so far. There is never an improvement. I know that this year camping is going to be amazing. Last summer was the funnest to date, and I have a feeling this year is going to be even better. Now when I tell people what camping is like, they usually think it sounds boring. Basically, every day is the same. Every day, my cousin and I:
1. Get up and eat breakfast
2. Float down the river
3. Eat lunch
4. Float down the river
5. Eat dinner
6. Float down the river
7. Hang out by the river until the sun goes down
8. Drink!
9. Go to bed as the sun comes up, ready to do it all over again the next day.
You may think that sounds monotonous and boring, but it NEVER is. Although every day is basically the same, SO MUCH random and funny stuff happens along the way that it never gets old. You meet the craziest people on the river, and there's no telling what you might see. And at night, the park becomes a totally different place! You meet some interesting folks out at the latest hours of the night. We've met a group of travelors who do nothing but smoke pot and camp at different parks around the country. We've met a professional fire twirler who put on a twirling show for us. We've met a 300+ lb. woman who tried to beat up one of my cousins after he mooned her (Well, she could've been trying to eat him, I'm still not sure). A pastor chased us with a Bible after some of his Catholic youth group girls snuck out to the beach with us. We appeared on a pirated radio station some guy was broadcasting out of his truck. And last year, I talked two 16 year old girls into jumping off a cliff into the river...NAKED. (Should I have gone to jail for that?) And the memories go on. I've been going there every year since I was a baby, so you can see how that place has become such an important place in my life. And that's why I can't wait to go back this year, and why I wish the school year had ended a week ago.

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