Requiem for Angel

     One year ago today, Angel died. I've been putting off talking about it here for a long time (about a year to be exact). She was a part of our family for thirteen great years, and I couldn't asked for a sweeter, kinder, moochier dog. I miss her. I love her. I don't know if dogs go to Heaven, but a friend of mine told me that God created animals and put a lot of care in them (in Matthew 10:29, Jesus says that not a single sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing and caring), so it's possible they go to Heaven. But either way, she is at rest, and I have found peace with that.

     It was around noon, my brother came into my room and woke me up, ordering me to get downstairs. I ignored him because he was rude and went back to sleep. A moment later, Mom came in crying and woke me up, saying "Come say goodbye to Angel." Panic struck my heart. Angel was old, and her hips were bad and she couldn't even walk up and down the stairs without Mom holding her every step of the way. It was sad watching her deteriorate physically like that, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she would eventually run out of strength to keep going.

     Apparently, she had fallen down the stairs that morning, despite Mom's help. Then she voided her bowels in front of the couch. Mom cleaned it up and before she could take Angel outside, she collapsed in the middle of the kitchen floor and wouldn't get back up.

     When I came down, she was breathing heavily and frothing at the mouth. I couldn't help but think how traumatizing this would've been for a younger person. Mom, sister, and brother were there with her, petting her and comforting her, all crying. I joined them. I haven't cried like that in ages. I didn't even cry that much at my great grandpa's funeral. Right in front of my, struggling for breath, was the dog who had been such a huge part of my life, our family's life, since before I could remember, dying.

     I still remember the day we brought her home. We had seen her a while before with her mother when we picked her out. I don't remember this much, but apparently she sort of picked us. She instantly bonded with my oldest sister and that was basically settled. We were so disappointed that we wouldn't be able to bring her home for a long time. Then, a week or two before we thought we'd get her, Mom came in the back door, with a little yellow ball of fur wiggling and wagging its tail in her arms. We were all so excited. From the very first day she was with us, she was family.

     She was loads of fun. Very finicky, but would eat just about anything (wasn't too crazy about lettuce though). I remember once, I was going to make a sandwich, and as soon as I grabbed the bread, Angel, from all the way upstairs, heard the plastic shaking and bolted down the stairs at record speed, ran to the kitchen, and slid right up to my feet, looking up at me and panting happily. Needless to say, I had to give her a bite.

     I have so many fond and happy memories of that dog that I can't even begin to tell my favorites. I remember when I was a kid, I would lie down on the floor and she would stand over me and look down, the skin on her face sagging down and she looked so silly and so cute. I remember we came home from church and she came slinking up to us like she did when she was in trouble, and all she did was knock down some fake flowers from a rickety table. She loved us, I know this. She was a great dog. Obedient and eager to please.

     We sat down, petting her, comforting her, telling her we loved her. Her breaths became more ragged. We called Dad and my oldest sister. Dad got to talk to her and say goodbye, but Bri was busy. Dad stopped by during his lunch to see her, but by then it was too late. She had breathed her last. With one final sigh, her beautiful spirit left her body, and one of my best friends in the world was dead.

     Dad covered her up in her favorite blanket (an old Barney blanket my brother and I used when we were little). We went to Mom's parents house to bury her. It was dark out. I couldn't say any last words to her. I couldn't speak at all. It was so strange waking up the next morning, walking down stairs, and not seeing her wagging her tail and panting happily, like she had missed me so much since just a few hours ago. It was so strange not having her in the house, chewing on her rope or her bone, lying down at our feet, mooching from us in the kitchen.

     It's been a year, and we have Lily now, but there's still a hole, a vacancy, in our lives.

     So, my baby girl, prettiest girl, Angie Bear, Monkey, Punkie, princess, precious, Angel... I miss you so much. I still love you. Wherever you are, I'm still thinking of you. I don't know if you're looking down on me, or mooching off the angels in Heaven (who can't find it in their hearts to deny you), or what. But I love you. So much. You'll always have a special place in my heart.

     She died as she lived: happy, at peace, and loved, surrounded by her family. May your death, baby girl, though full of sorrow, bring peace to you. Requiescat in pace.

So beautiful.

This is... annoying.

     Having seen a lot of movies, played a lot of games, and read a lot of books, one thing I noticed is an obnoxious use of the ellipses. Ellipses are generally used as signs of omission, like when you're quoting something but take out a part that's not relevant. Or when I call you a... man. Haha! You'll never know what terrible cusses I put before the word man. You might not even be a man! Joke's on you!
     Anyways, it's really annoying how a lot of people use ellipses (written or spoken [yes you can say an ellipses, JRPG characters do it all the time]). If your character is struggling to find the right word, that's one thing. But usually, it's like they're forcing drama. Drama should never be forced. Drama should be shown through the plot, the conflict, and the characters. Not by the author. Neeeeever by the author. Or speaker.

This is not a conversation, Japan.

(Photo Source)

     Here's a quote from a fellow named Strangeluv I found whilst looking for pictures of people saying "..." (I didn't find any). "I don't know about you but I am tired of reading that dialogue that goes like this... I get all emo when I read it... I wish they would stop doing it... So stop doing it. It's meant to convey sadness but it doesn't. It just ends up being the same as melodrama." (Source)

     And he (or she) is right. Pausing before saying something ("This may be... problematic") is meant to convey tension, drama, evilness, or whatever. In super small moderation, it can be okay, but after seeing it in so many places (The Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim does it more frequently than necessary) it gets really irritating. Especially because they usually overemphasize the word that comes after it. And sometimes they even pause after the overemphasized word.

     "I have a... proposition for you." Oh! This means it something nasty or wicked! I would never have guessed that for myself. This is just a failed attempt at some manner of gravitas. You have a proposition, we get it, just say it. The pause just sounds like a cheesy cartoon villain trope.

     "He needs to be... terminated." Oh no! Not terminated! You want the guy dead, and the pausing shtick just makes it sound goofy. It's hard to take a villain... seriously... if he talks like... this... all the time....

     "I'm sure I can think of... some way you can repay me." You can tell it's about sex, because of the pause! This is like using the winky face online. It just makes it painfully obvious that there's a double entendre or euphemism of sorts. If this were a real life interaction, it would be about as overt as nudging someone, winking furiously, raising your eyebrows, and whispering "I'm talking about us doing it" in their ear.

"Get it? GEEEEEET IIIT?"

(Photo Source)

     In conclusion, it's cheesy and contrived to create dramatic tension by having people pause before saying a certain word. It's lazy writing. And worse than that, I don't like it. And neither does the creepy winky guy.

Delinquent Squirrels

     Today I went to the Taylor library to return some books.  About a week before the last day, I had checked out the Prose Edda and the Poetic Edda for a paper I was writing for British Literature.
     On my way out I saw a squirrel digging in the mulch by the bushes. I don't know why. He was just digging away. Burying his nuts, maybe? I forewent the semi-obligatory Freudian analysis on the subject and decided that, whatever the squirrel's reason was, it was insufficient grounds for him to be digging up university property.
     I yelled at him to stop. He looked up at me curiously and backed away a few decimeters (this is a no inches zone, no actually decimeters sounds stupid I'm not using those never mind, scratch that) inches. He stared me down. Tumbleweed rolled across the sidewalk. My fingers twitched, aching to whip out... well my cell phone was the only thing in my pocket. Maybe I would've taken a picture of him, he was kinda cute, I guess. You know. For a squirrel.
     So I asked him what depravity caused him to stoop to this level, digging in the mulch, hiding food from the world. He ran away a little, but didn't answer. "GET A JOB!" I shouted. I had no patience for his type.
     What causes a squirrel to do this? What terrible tragedy in his life caused him to go this low? Maybe I could never understand that sort of desperation. I dunno. Maybe I want to know, so I can reach out to squirrels with the hand of love and giving instead of the foot of get away from me. Maybe I don't want to know, to preserve what little innocence I have left. I don't know. Either way, he left, and the sad (or is it happy?) part is, I'll never see him ever again. Sic est vitae. Thus is life.


EPILOGUE: When I walked away, I saw someone else on the sidewalk. With as echoey as Taylor's campus is, he undoubtedly heard me and is probably convinced that I'm thoroughly insane, shouting at rodents and stuff.
Stupid delinquent squirrels, it's all their fault.

Upset the Balance!

It's so upset.

Squid Squad!

Oh man, I just got a great idea for a novel.


SQUID SQUAD!


Anthropomorphic squids in the Atlantic form a squad of hardened mercs who don't play by the rules in order to stop the greatest terror of the seas: humans, and their big boats and oil spills. In the end fishermen catch all the Squid Squad members and eat them, reminding the viewer that people are super evil and squids are poor helpless unfortunate beasts, eliciting a strong emotional reaction from the audience so that they'll be outraged and become social activists. It'll have all the great stuff, you know: contrived, forced, nonsensical plot; memorable, obnoxiously "quirky" characters; an in-your-face pro-environmentalist viewpoint; blatant condemnation of capitalism, industry, and humankind; tons of action, and explosions! UNDERWATER. Oh yes, there will be blood (also there are about an infinity of outdated, overused, out of character, out of context pop culture gags, jokes, and references).


No wait! You know what would be better than a novel? An over-produced, excessively promoted and advertised CGI blockbuster that costs half a billion dollars! And they'll say they'll donate like, two percent of the proceeds to a wildlife foundation or something. Even though they could've just donated all the money that went into the movie. But you know, screw that, right?


Hold on to your belt, ladies and gents, because I just got another squidtastic idea (oh yeah, forgot to mention it'll have a lot of squid-based puns that are really forced and don't even make sense, and a whole lot of ink jokes just for good measure)! Let's make it a trilogy! The second will have almost nothing to do with the third, will retcon a few things from the first (like the fact that they're all dead) to go in a different, more ridiculous direction. The third will just be straight terrible, desperately trying to squeeze as much money from moviegoers as possible, and everyone will see how pathetic the attempt is, but will still go to see it because it's Squid Squad and everyone will totally love it, believe me.


This is turning out to be really great. I'll crank out a screenplay or a script or something soon.

Hey, I have a blog!

How about that?


I should really get back into the swing of doing this. A lot has happened since I last used this.


Angel, my baby girl, died last summer. She was 13 years old. I wanted to post a requiem of sorts, but I still don't want to face it.


We got a new puppy, another golden, her name's Lily. She's super smart. Haaaaaaaaa.


I looked back on a lot of the stuff I've written. It's amazing how much I've changed. I even edited some things so they were less crass.


That video project I mentioned earlier is a no-go. Ended up being more trouble than it was worth. It was called "Finger Puppet Ninja Kitty." The world shall never know its glory.


Here are some things I plan on doing in the future with this blog:
1. Retract a few opinions from previous posts. I'll let them stay, of course, but will post revised editions of them, clarifying some things, not being such a horrible person (my goodness, I was a mean little cuss), etc.
2. Post a requiem for Angel.
3. Post about Lily girl.
4. A post about some goings-on in my life.
5. Edit previous posts for a less rude tone. Possibly some deletions as well (which I've already started).
6. Start posting, either weekly or bi-weekly.
7. Making this blog more of an Asylum, its namesake. And making it live up to its tagline.
8. Why is tagline squigglied? Tagline is too a word.
9. Squigglied isn't a word either? I guess I can see that.
10. Thou shall not represent Jesus as a white guy with blue eyes and perfectly coiffed hair.


So yeah, stuff. Here's week one! It's nothing exciting. But. You know. I'm lazy, remember?


Remember how I used to close with a moral of the story? I'm probably not going to do that. Or maybe I will. I don't know okay? Get off my back, Dad.

Hallway Etiquette

One of the many things that inordinately and consistently infuriates me is people who don't know how to walk. And I don't mean, like, people who can't walk, I'm not that big of a jerk. I mean people who, on the sidewalk or in the hallway, disobey the unspoken rules of hallway etiquette. Well, that's part of the problem: they're unspoken! So, after reading this, speak them, because this writing and not speaking.


RULE ONE
Stay on the right side. Right as in direction, not correct. Well, correct too. Right is right.

It's kind of like the road, except there's little to no chance of running someone over and splattering their blood all over the walls and other people walking. Walking on the left side is just like a big ol' "screw you" to everyone walking, because you're right in the way. It's annoying and it makes me wish the hallway were in fact a road.

RULE TWO

Don't take up the whole path. This goes particularly to groups of people who, instead of forming a mobile cluster, decide to fan out and make sure that no one is able to get past them. At least not without awkward bumping or outward violence.

I SWEAR I'LL DO IT

The thing I don't get about this one is that it's not like you can make conversation with someone on the other side of the hallway with a bunch of people between you. Falling in line will just prevent problems (refer to above picture).

RULE THREE

No loitering! This can be one person awkwardly standing in the way, two people talking, in the way, or a group of people standing around for no reason whatsoever.

Then it ends up looking like this. Good luck!

So like, pretty please, if you have someone you're talking to, that's wonderful, but kindly get out of the way. Otherwise, it's just rude.

RULE FOUR

Don't. Walk. So. Slow. Seriously, just pick up the pace a little, especially if it's crowded. I mean, walking slow is all right if the place is empty, no problem with that, people can move around you easily. But when there are a lot of people, and you're taking your sweet time, it makes it hard to get around you. Then people get stuck behind you, and it's really long, boring, and pointless.

Picture unrelated.

So pick it up a little so you're not clogging the hall like an artery. Or else, HALLWAY STROKE. Bam you're dead. Look what you did. Are you proud?

RULE FIVE

Don't be a jerk. Be considerate That pretty much sums it up. Just realize that other people are trying to move, and you suck.

Moral of the story: seriously, you suck.

Man vs. Bug

Just now, I have returned victorious from the field of battle: a battle in the aeon-long war of men against the wild nature of insects.


In the bathroom, whilst brushing my dingy yellows, I saw a freakishly mutilated and ugly brown insect drop from nowhere onto the floor beside the toilet. I looked over and decided that it must've been a beast from Hell itself. So, I grabbed a newly clean hand towel and threw it on top of the beast, trying to keep as calm as possible, nonchalantly brushing my teeth to keep up a facade of bravery over my balls-to-the-wall terrified interior.


Spitting and rinsing, I then proceeded to stomp viciously all over the towel. I figured Mom wouldn't be too happy that it would get bug guts all over it, and that it would be disgusting as a public toilet that the janitor forget to clean for a month, but I knew that was the price to pay for victory.


Grabbing a wad of Kleenex with which to dispose the remnants, I carefully lifted the towel. Underneath was a small clump of dog fur, unperturbed by my wrathful cruelty.


So then I felt like an idiot. I put the towel in the dirty towel basket and threw away two clean Kleenex with a clump of Angel's hair in it.


In my defense, there is no reason why that much dog hair should be in the bathroom. Baby girl rarely goes in there. But regardless, I won that fight. Bug or not, I emerge victorious.


Suck it.


Moral of the story: don't kill dog hair.

A Discourse on Opposite Days

Opposite Day has long been an overlooked and underappreciated holiday for many reasons.


For one, no one seems to know when Opposite Day truly is. Varying reports from various age groups (specifically those younger than twelve years old) suggest that Opposite Day could occur on any of the 365.25 days of the year. Some reports indicate that Opposite Day has been known to take place multiple times per year.This presents quite a problem, since no one truly knows when to celebrate it, or how often.


Second, Opposite Day is not a government sanctioned holiday, therefore it will go unrecognized and uncared for by the general public. Wikipedia suggests that Opposite Day is known to happen on February 6, but due to the varying nature of Opposite Days, the fact that the government hasn't approved of this, and the fact that Wikipedia lies, this is hardly a reliable statement.


Third, Opposite Day can give way to a great amount of paradoxes, confusion, deceit, and messes. If one declares that it is Opposite Day, that means that, since it is Opposite Day, the opposite of that statement is true, so it would not be Opposite Day. This would thereby make whoever said it a liar. If someone says it is not Opposite Day, then people would believe that and, even though it truly is Opposite Day, it would go unnoticed because it could, and most likely would, be taken literally as a straightforward statement of fact. Saying you love someone would mean you that you hate them, which makes you a jerk and a liar, but saying you hate them will offend them and cause them to hate you, which makes you a jerk and a liar. No matter what, on Opposite Day, everyone is made out to look like a bad guy. Or girl. Or simian with knowledge of ASL.


Fourth, why would February 6 be considered Opposite Day? Really, who thought of that? Out of all the days of the year, why would you pick the deathday of Emperor Ōgimachi of Japan? That just doesn't make sense.




In conclusion, I believe that Opposite Day should just be outlawed. Too much work. Unless the government would be willing to sanction some day as an official Opposite Day, which would eliminate most of the confusion. Just not on February 6. I don't understand that.

Hey, kids!

And by kids I mean you poor people who have nothing better to do. I'm sorry I've left you out in the cold for so long. I know I haven't updated this in forever, because I've had things to do (like writing 10,000 words, watching movies, watching TV, playing video games, sleeping, avoiding this blog) and neglected to update. Well, no more. Come in, please. Welcome back to my Asylum. You're insane, and in desperate need of my help. Well, I'm here for you.


First off, I would like to start by saying that I've been wearing the same pair of pants for a few weeks now. I've been washing them, of course (periodically maybe), it's just been the same pair, and the things at the bottom, I don't know what you call them, the hem? Bottom foldy things? Anyway, those. They're torn because I stepped on them. Mainly because I'm getting fat. I've not been doing the whole "moving" thing, and I drink too much Mt. Dew. However, in the interest of public safety, being able to fit into pants, and impressing all those cool people I don't care about, and maybe one I do care about, I'll be dropping pop/soda/soft drinks/cola/carbonated beverages and try to take a walk around campus before I shower at night. But dang... no more Mt. Dew... I'll be sleeping a lot more. Crap.


Second, I would like to tell you I have written 10,000 words of gloriousness that's really not that glorious and a little more than 10,000 words (40 more, to be exact) and you're probably never going to read it because I'm not going to post it on here. So why tell you? I don't know, that's why.


Thirdly, I learned, quite a while ago now, actually, that black-haired gal is transferring to another school and already getting her talk on with some other guy, so even if I would've talked to her, nothing would've happened. So I guess maybe my fear saved me! That's an awful lesson to be taught.


Lastly, I am working on a video. It'll be cool. Maybe. It won't. But. I'll post it on here when I'm done, which might take a while because I'm lazy. But I've got nothing else to do, so who knows? Maybe I'll have it up today!

Hahahahaha, ooohhaahoohaaaha.


Okay, but really, it'll be a while.


Fourthly, I've got another post planned. It's neat. Tumblr sucks because it doesn't autosave, and I was writing it there and it all got erased (can't remember how, but I lost everything). So I'll have to start from itch.


Scratch, whatever. That's a stupid phrase anyway, what's that even mean?


All right, get back to work, nothing more to see here.




Moral of the story: okay so there's this to see here, I lied. So don't lie, don't be like me, okay? Don't do it. Just don't.

Oh shoot! This would've been the best

I had this dream last night, or maybe during naptime today. But it was awesome. I was going to put it here, because it was a great idea.


But all I remember is a Fallout 3 styled combat knife and I was hiding it... I was walking through a building or campus, or both I can't remember. But I was hiding it in my left sleeve. It was difficult to get it through the elevator, but I went up some floors and stowed it somewhere. I looked pretty wicked in black, but that's really all I remember. It was a pretty sweet dream.


But now I can't remember. I remember thinking, in the dream, "This'll make a great post!" but even my dreaming self wouldn't remember.


Oh well. Maybe I'll have more stealthy and violent dreams tonight (read: tomorrow morning). But probably not.




Moral of the story: dream journals are actually really nifty. I need to start doing that again.

The faults of iPrism II

I know everyone and their mother has problems with internet filters, and all other kinds of filters, like coffee filters (which are gross) and lint filters in the dryer (also gross, but thankfully not all wet and soggy, unless you're doing it terribly wrong). This isn't necessarily a complaint against the filter, but its description for why it's blocking things. Which is actually kinda the same thing.

Okay.


Anyways, whilst surfing around and being blocked a lot, some of the blocked categories were just ridiculous. Here they are, for your ocular pleasure!




Art/culture
So not only is art being censored and banned, but so is culture in general. Which, technically, is like... the entire internet.


Corporate Marketing
I hate adverts as much as the next guy, but there's really no need to block a website for trying to get in the public eye. Might as well block, like... the entire internet then. Again.


Radio stations
Wait... what? How is that... just... what?


Health
Okay, so now iPrism is trying to kill us, great.


Professional services
Unless that's a euphemism, there's really no need to block that.


Games
Not nasty games, not pornographic or violent games. Just games. Stop playing them.


Specialized shopping
Also a euphemism...? Or maybe tall fat people just can't shop for pants that will actually fit.


Discussion forums
And we're not allowed to even talk? Sheesh. Pretty soon they'll just knock out all forms of digital media on the internet.


Digital media
Okay.

Fourshadowing

GET IT?

The Thinker

Classic art at its finest.
(I actually don't remember drawing this, but I'm sure that has something to do with the fact that it's been in my comics folder for a few months... yikes)

Turn that smile around a while

This is real. I wish it weren't but it is.

Do You Have Dirty Balls?
The Axe Detailer & Shower Gel Clean Your Balls. See the Demonstration.




Dearest reader, I am not making this up. I couldn't. I don't know where to start. The title? The fact that they insinuate that some men have balls that are clean? (let's face it, clean balls aren't common) The fact that they want you to HOLY HELL THEY WANT YOU TO SEE A DEMONSTRATION.


Yes. I want to see a man clean his nuts with shower gel. Sheesh. Well hey, at least there's a solution to your problem. Just... just be careful okay? I don't trust that.

Coffee Kills

How Unfortunate: PART IV

All right, this was supposed to be done, like, a really long time ago (this was on page three of the list of my posts, as a draft, that, for some reason, I decided not to finish). The DC stopped serving fortune cookies, so this will likely be the last, which is sad, but kind of good because maybe... no.
Well, enjoy this final post of fortune cookies. Maybe you'll learn something. Maybe you'll lose faith in mankind. Maybe I just don't even care.






Be ready to receive the good things that come your way.
Yeah, because good things need preparation, not a pleasant surprise or anything.
"Hey, I got you roses, my love!"
"GET AWAY, I WASN'T READY FOR THIS!"


Great thoughts come from the heart.
No, great thoughts come from the head. You know those girls who go out with the same douchebag multiple times? That comes from the heart and it's a terrible idea. Plus, the only idea your heart gives you is: beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
VIOLENCE.


It's harder to ask the right questions than to find answers to the wrong questions.
Wait, what? No it's not. Now you're just making stuff up. You can't do that, fortune cookies. You can't do that.


With care, things will never change.
Yeah, because freak accidents never happen! And, y'know, LIFE.


Visions of a happy romance are in your near future.
Okay, this was several months ago. Still single. Thanks. Thanks, you lying son of a


Beautiful things awaits you.
Close, but no cicada. Whoever edits or translates these things isn't doing their job. Maybe that's why all of these fortunes have been stupid! They're really brilliant, wise proverbs mistranslated to sound like a six-year-old blew a hemorrhoid on a strip of paper!


Moral of the story: this story has a moral.


Have a fortunate life, but only if you build me a statue for my prophiteering. That might be a pun, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that's not actually a word.

I love this.

There's something terribly wrong and wonderfully offensive about this "convenient" way to hang infants. Of course, it's just that the "C" is missing, but it's been missing for a while. Like, a couple years. And they haven't even penciled in a "C" or anything. Which leads to all sorts of conspiracy theories about how Macy's is evil and needs to stop televising parades with obnoxiously large balloons and terrible singers.

But anyway, just thought I'd share my favorite picture ever.

Spinach