Venn Diagrams

Also, coincidentally...

I'm not saying that the Doctor is Batman, but he's Batman.

Razor Rant

     I am not ashamed! I use an electric razor. Laugh, point, tease, throw quarters at my face, whatever you want, I don't care. Doesn't faze me. I use an electric razor.

     In the past two months, I've been in four different states. I spent five weeks in Arizona, one week in California with my grandparents, four days in Idaho, and now I've been in Utah for two weeks.

     You may or may not be asking yourself, “That's fine and dandy, sir. But what do these completely separate events have in common?”

     You probably aren't asking that question, but I'm going to answer it anyway.

     My razor has a charger, and somewhere in between those four states, the charger is playing hide-and-seek.

     MY RAZOR IS DEAD.

     It was slowly murdered as each usage drained the energy out of the device. This should be unsurprising, since I need to use it daily. However, the sudden departure of life from my faithful companion came as a sudden and painful shock.

     The after-effects have been equally painful.

     The reason it was used daily was because I have a freakishly fast rate of facial hair growth. I will be clean shaven in the morning, and by the end of the day, look like I have a dead hamster glued to my face.

     This is just in one day.

     I haven't shaved for FIVE DAYS.

     No instead of a single dead hamster, I have a whole family of them. AND their dog.

     This isn't the worst part. My facial hair has even more issues. There is an even, straight vertical-line dividing my chin. This isn't a drawn line, any form of handsome-cleft, or even fat folds. It's a line formed by the different lengths of my face hair.

     The fuzz on the right side is about half as long as the left. I already knew this due to the weird asymmetry of my wicked sweet side-burns, but it looks even more ridiculous now that I can't shave.

     No one else seems to have noticed this phenomenon, but my sandpaper facial features have been impossible to forget as I've gone through the past few days.

     The day where I get a replacement charger couldn't come soon enough.

Nerd Problems: #1 Communication

     Recently, I've invested quite of bit of time into an HTML for Dummies book. I didn't actually purchase the thing, but thankfully, the local library didn't remove the CD-rom that came with it.

     While the book is in my posession, I checked out the disk, and it has a butt-load of free software on it. A lot of it was programming and coding stuff, but one of the programs I've started to really enjoy from it was GIMP, an image editting thing.

     With this program at my side, I've been able to do a bit more with my sketch-comic-things, at least in regards to editting. I'm working my way up to solely using the program, however.

     So, without further ado, here is today's comic.

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Paper

5 Things You Can Make With Paper (an Illistrated Guide)

1. T.A.R.D.I.S.

     Just click on TARDIS to go get one for yourself. It'll take a little work, but I personally think that it's worth it.

2. This Spiky Ball... Thing (Great Stellated Dodecahedron)

     I spent about half an hour trying to make this thing, and I'm going to share my mistakes so that you don't make them as well. For one, don't try and make a small one. The bigger, the better. It may use more paper and ink, but when it's small each step is painstakingly difficult. 

     Make sure you have glue that actually works. The glue stick I was using was probably a deffective one from the Dollar Store, and the glue didn't hold it in place. This made me resort to tape, which made the end result look kinda like it's supposed to, but with some confrontation with a pack of five year olds somewhere in the making.

     As with the TARDIS, just follow the link embeded in the title.

3. Mobius Strip

4. Blow-racer

5. A Rock

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Interview

     My family are big on going to church every week. A few months ago when we were in Idaho, it was a Sunday and I genuinely didn't feel up to going. I did the logical thing and stayed home. Alone. 

     Whenever somebody is sick, my mom of course tells them to stay in bed and get some rest. How could I possibly do such a thing? I find it near impossible to take naps, and there isn't anything I can comfortably do from the area of my bed. 

     Growing up, and still now, Monopoly has been a beloved game amongst the male population of my house (my dad, myself, and two younger brothers). Every time I played this game, one of the two brothers would fall out early on, the second would normally come next, and then my dad would completely crush the remaining opponent. 

     To drive away the ensuing insanity, I took upon myself a challenge. The above pattern was ALWAYS the case when we played Monopoly. How would it turn out if... it was only ME playing?

     I tried to separate myself into two different personalities. There was the hard-bearing analytical minded personage that I created to play against me, and then myself, playing as I normally would.

     The gameplay was normal for the first hour, but after that, it was clear who the victor was to be. I was going to lose to my imaginary foe. Myself.

     This proved to be a deep learning experience for me, on multiple levels. One thing I learned from this odd day was a better Monopoly strategy (Jail is a black hole, so get everything 7-18 spaces in front of it). Another was that if I am really de-idea-rated (de-hyd-rated? de-idea-rated? Awh, never mind.), turning to myself for that little bit of entertainment can really do the trick.

     Nowadays, I still get pretty lonely sitting around my house all day, despite the constant presence of my siblings, parents, grandparents, and uncle. Most of the time we don't speak to one another. The odd thing is that when I actually do wish to carry on a conversation with a human being, the discussion turns to a point where the engagement isn't as interesting as I thought it was going to be when it began.

     Solution? Interviewing myself.

     This is not meant to be a narcissistic discussion for you to view in upon. As with the Monopoly game, there always ends up being a different personality speaking forth from the bowels of my imagination (I am NOT saying that it is a dirty place there by using the word 'bowels'). So in all actuality, this will most likely turn out to be an imaginary person beating the crap out of me verbally.

     Also, I would have somebody ELSE interview me, but people who are willing to spend an extended amount of time with me are short on hand.

     To make this less complicated then it already is, my name will be Mitch, and the interviewer is Tylan (go to the About page if that doesn't make any sense to you).

     Sigh. Let's get this overwith.

Tylan: Alright, Mitch. How are you feeling today?

Mitch: I think Earth's gravity has a much larger pull on me today, because it took me an hour to finally roll out of bed. 

Tylan: Interesting... that doesn't really answer the question, though.

Mitch: Oh. Right. Um... I feel like today is going to be a less-than-average day. 

Tylan: Well, seeing as how you've started out the day by having a dialougue with yourself, it seems hard to believe that that is correct.

Mitch: Can you just ask the next question?!

Tylan: ...seems that when you finally rolled out of bed, it was on the wrong side. 

Mitch: The current sleeping arrangements make it so that there IS only one side. My mattress on the floor is pushed up against one of the sofas, so I really can only wake up on one side.

Tylan: And how does your family feel about that?

Mitch: Feel about what?

Tylan: About you being grumpy all the time. 

Mitch: Now hold on just a second-

Tylan: It just sounds logical that if you're grumpy from waking up on the wrong side today, and there's only one side, as you've said, then you wake up in a foul mood every day.

Mitch: This is going to be an extremely short interview if you don't move on right now.

Tylan: Right. Now Mitch, some, now many, people have noticed that despite the general light-hearted-ness of your website, you have such bleak colors as the theme for your blog. Why is that?

Mitch: I've actually thought about that one before. I personally just like the color black, and the contrast it has with white. In life, I find it difficult now to wear something with bright colors.

Tylan: That was a perfect transition into my next question! Are you Goth?

Mitch: Wait, what? No! No, of course not. 

Tylan: Then would you consider changing the color scheme of your blog?

Mitch: If it's what my very small reader-base is asking, then yes. 

Tylan: Oh, no one was asking. I just wanted to hear you overreact to me calling you Goth.

Mitch: I'm assuming a follow-up reaction is what you want to hear from that, yes?

Tylan: I was hoping...

Mitch: Too bad. Next question.

Tylan: Alright. Why do you continue to blog if you have such a small reader-base? And why don't you call it a fan-base?

Mitch: First off, I'm a very bored person. The fact that we're having this "interview" can attest to that. On the other hand, some part of me thinks that if I push hard enough for a period of time, I can come to actually have a reader-base.

Tylan: Alright, fair enough. Now, explain your fan/reader base idea.

Mitch:  Easy enough, I suppose. Fans are dedicated readers, who come back at the mention of new content. This stands true for every single one of the blogs and webcomics I have listed in the side bar. Readers are people who are simply politely interested, not really wanting to be here, but here because they know me and feel prompted to.

Tylan: You're doing very good at easing us into the next question! Are you depressed?

Mitch: Wha-

Tylan: Suicidal?

Mitch: No of cour-

Tylan: Feeling prompted to murder anybody?

Mitch: I am now!

Tylan: I feel that this discussion is nearing it's end.

Mitch: Yes, most likely.

Tylan: Well, before you go back to being sane, can you answer the question?

Mitch: Alright. Fine. No, I do not consider myself to be ANY of those things. I'm DEFINITELY not suicidal, never ever ever ever ever never ever. Never. I have too much to live for. And despite what many of the people I know think, I'm not depressed. I can just be quiet when I'm in the company of my thoughts. 

Tylan: I'm not even the one reading this, and I feel like your response just dropped this interview from light-hearted to somber. Congratulations. 

Mitch: Well, good thing it's over, isn't it?

Tylan: Yes. Nice talking to you Mitch.

Mitch: Wish I could say the same thing to you.

Karen Gillan Rant

     For two and a half-ish seasons of Doctor Who, Karen Gillan was my Hollywood crush. From her first appearance in season 5 to the tear-inducing fifth episode of the seventh, Amy Pond was one of my favorite companions. In fact, she pretty much still is.

     But recent events have forced me to move Karen from the top to towards the bottom.

     Karen will be portraying the role of Nebula in the upcoming Guardians of the Galaxy film. Apparently, this female character will be depicted as bald.

     For filming, Karen has simply SHAVED her luscious locks. The red hair that introduced her to me has now left, replacing itself with THIS scarring image.

     I'm sorry. I know there are those of you who think hairless women is a cool "thing," and that it's still attractive. NO WAY. Sorry. Not for me.

     It was one thing for Matt Smith to shave his head. He's a dude. It's ok. His iconic swooshy-style is gone now, but that's ok. Again, he's a man.

     But Karen... oh gosh, why, Karen? There are things called bald caps, you know? Sure, they aren't convincing, but with a movie that'll be mostly CGI, that shouldn't be too hard to fix! Sure, actors/actresses cut their hair short for roles nowadays. But really? 

     I hope she's getting paid many-much-mula for her acting in the film. Whatever she's getting, it better be worth the seven years it'll take to grow back her HEAD.

     I guess, in the end, she'll just end up joining a small club of actresses in my book. She'll just be the newest member to join Emma Watson and Anne Hathaway (Side note: I didn't lose any respect for Hathaway after the scissors. Even if it made her look like a dude.).

Everything Equation

     The official kick-off of Saturday Sketches.

Disclaimer: Please don't confuse this with the actual Equation of Everything or The Theory of Everything. Those are actual things.

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Summer Movies

     First and foremost, I think I'm going to implement a new tradition. Since it's been a while since the previous ones were said, I'll just give the full list here.

1. No posts on Sundays
2. Lists on Friday
3. Saturday Sketches

     Basically, with Saturday Sketches, I'm going to attempt to post doodles/comic things on Saturdays. More than likely, this plan will crash and burn (like most everything else I do). Despite this fact, I will attempt to try it, since it's hard enough to keep people interested on this site without the pictures. 

     Secondly, as today is Friday, it's time for a list. 

5 Movies That I've Watched This Summer (Things You Should Go Watch. Like, Right Now)

1. Man of Steel

     Probably my favorite Super Man movie. For those who know me, this doesn't say much, since I've only seen one other. Regardless, it was still pretty awesome.

2. Now You See Me

     Out of all the movies I've watched for a looong time, this one is probably my favorite. I really enjoyed the acting, some of the effects were pretty rad, and it made you think. Not in an Inception kind of way, but a decent level of thought can be put into it. When it was described to me at first, it sounded like Ocean's 11, but with magicians. However, that was just a single part of it, and it didn't really derail the fact that this was a pretty good film.

3. Warm Bodies

     Not a new one, I know. But I just barely watched it this past summer while in Arizona. I was skeptical, since it sounded like (and was) zombie Romeo & Juliet, but with my bizarre sense of humor, I got away with enjoying it.

4. Monsters University

     I'm a hardcore Pixar fan. I've spent countless hours pouring over the facts from their movies on IMDb, I've watched all the shorts at least three times, and they have this magical effect of making it easy to memorize the script. 

     This film wasn't exactly up to par with my other favorite Pixar movies (e.g. Wall-E, Up), but at least it wasn't awful like Cars 2. THAT one, just flat out sucked (sorry to the fans).

5. Jack the Giant Slayer

     I'll be brutally honest with you. This wasn't my favorite movie. I think part of it has to do with the fact that I watched Warm Bodies before I saw this, which made me much more judge mental of... um... that one guy's acting. Yeah.

     It was alright, despite the fact that some where in the back of my mind, I was being nagged that the prince was a freakin' jedi, and should've been much more ninja than the zombie dude.

     Feel free to leave your comments below. For example, you could tell me what movies you saw, or what you think about the ones I've listed.

An Extremely Pleasant Shopping Experience

     I flew back into Salt Lake City this past Sunday, and since I've been gone for the past six-ish weeks, I've been trying to spend some more time with my family, to catch up, you know?

     Yesterday my dad and one of my brothers decided that we were going to go browse around a bit in the local thrift stores.

     Gross. Just kidding. I don't like the phrase "thrift stores."

     We went to several... Deseret Industries locations.

     Sitting in front of one of the stores we visited was this man. Now, mind you, I don't have too much of a problem with homeless people. A lot of people think that every single one of them actually has a house, but they're too lazy to get a job. In some cases this may be true, but I like to think of it optimistically.

     I feel that I should give some information on him so that maybe you can envision him later. Don't worry, I wasn't checking him out, I just noticed a couple things. Now, this man had those sleeve tattoos that I'm starting to see more and more on people. I think he may have had ear piercings, but I'm not sure.

     None of this was the strange part. Now, this is where I make the assumption that he's homeless. He had a little cardboard sign leaning next to him on the wall, left there as if it didn't matter for the moment. Alright, homeless people take breaks. Ok.

     He was rocking back and forth, making slightly muted tones similar to the ones heard in the "Ring of Fire" scene of Finding Nemo (wah-hee wah-hee wah-ho-ho-ho), and snapping his fingers.

     Once inside D.I., I asked my brother what he thought of the dude. He just looked at me with a quizzical look and replied, "What dude?"

     "The one sitting out front of the store?"

     "What are you talking about?"

     "The man... he was rocking... oh, just go look outside. He's to the right of the door."

     He gave me another weird look, and then he just figured he'd get it over with. I watched him walk outside. He looked right, and then he looked left. He DID, in fact, look. I'm not crazy.

     He came back and said, "There isn't anybody out there."

     I looked for myself. He really was gone. Being the older sibling, I didn't want to come off as a total loser, so I said the logically thing.

     "Heh. Heh. Made you look?"

     I think the way I said didn't come off as confident.

     We returned into the store, both of us trying to forget that weird ordeal. I went about looking for t-shirts, just for the heck of it. I actually managed to find some nerd-ish ones, but they were a couple sizes to big. For example, one contained this poem.

Roses are #FF0000
Violets are #0000FF
All my base
Are belong to you

Note: for those of you who simply think that that was bad grammar, it technically was, but it IS a reference.

     That would've been amazing. But alas, my weird proportions didn't allow it to be.

     I continued to browse alone, when I detected movement RIGHT next to me in my peripheral vision. I glanced over, and it was that homeless guy staring straight into my soul. He wasn't just standing next to me, he was full-on RIGHT there with his body turned towards me.

     Since that was just a glance, I had looked right back at what I was doing. This was the first time in my life that I actually did a double take. When I looked back, he was simply looking at the t-shirts on the rack. Five feet away.

     A little scared now, I went to look at a different rack. This time, I didn't see anything out of the corner of my eye. Instead, I heard a noise.

     A guttural, clicking/hissing noise was being emitted directly behind me. I spun around, expecting it to be like the double take, where I'd see briefly and then he'd be gone. So, I assumed I would hear something, and then there wouldn't be anything.

     I was wrong. There stood the man, again with his body turned towards me. Instead of staring into my soul, he was giving me this glare of pure evil. His head was angled slightly towards the ground, but it just added to the effect.

     That's not where it ended. He continued to make that awful sound, which was eerily similar to the sound that the Silence make.



     Needless to say, I got the freak out of there. I went and found my dad and brother, and didn't leave their sides until we left the store.

     Moral of the story: Some homeless people are fakes. Others are real. Some, a very small portion, are secretly demonic slenderman-ic aliens that want to kill you.

     Some people will point out that even if he was a Silent (the singular form), there's no way that I would remember him. But remember, no one else actually saw him, so it very well may have been some kind of Silence cousin. In disguise. 

I'm Board

     For the very few of you who might actually have some interest in this blog, I'm sorry for the past couple days of nothing. I just got back into Utah, and finding time to use the computer has become more difficult than trying to help a guinea pig with ADD memorize the quadratic formula. During Christmas.

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Pain of 1000 Suns

     I thought I knew the meaning of pain. I actually believed for a small, now insignificant, portion of my life that I had experienced events that gave me the undeniable right to claim that I know what pain is. In one single 16 our duration, my thoughts preceding this present moment have been destroyed.

     I shall share a brief history of my pained experiences, for comparison to my currently standing affliction.

Case File 1: Slip n' Slide  
     My family lived in a small no-name town in Washington state. We stayed in the second story of a particular building of an apartment complex. I was overjoyed at the fact that in the central courtyard of the area, was a playground. It was not large, nor was it small. But it was mine to share.

     As most people who have and have not been to Washington know, it tends to be rainy. There is seldom a clear sky, and this day was no exception. The dreary grey clouds rolled in weeks ago, and planned to keep an extended visit.

     The clouds broke loose, dropping down upon our little town a constant drumming of downpour, creating an almost melodic tune in the head of those subconsciously listening.

     My young mind found this interesting time to be the perfect time to explore my playground. In the already adventurous surroundings of limited visibility, I stuck with the spirit and committed myself to attempting feats of agility upon the wet metal frame of the play set.

     The first, and last, thing I attempted was standing up on the slide. The side was in essence was a metal chute. It had the flat part to sit upon, and then the side railings rose up on the edges.

     I stood at the top of the metal slide, ten feet of the ground. My rain-induced insanity drove me to stand upon the wet railing of the slide. The slippery sole of my traction-less shoes gave way beneath me as I stood for a full three seconds.

     Due to the nature of how I slipped, I fell face first off the side of the slide into the wet and waiting ground below.

     This set of entertainment for youth, such as myself, employed red wood mulch as the ground in the play area. My face-first contact with the flooring resulted in mulch entering every pore and hole upon my head, and then some. Some of the wood chippings stuck out at angles, puncturing my face the way cacti do in cartoons (and real life).

Case File 2: Beaten by the Heat
     We lived in Arizona when I was ten. This was probably the shortest time frame in which we stayed in a state, as we only lived there for a one-month period during the 2008 Summer Olympics. Despite me not watching sports ever, I know this fact because staring at the television set was the only thing I was able to do for that period.

     Genetics has "blessed" me with my mother's sensitivity to the elements. I try my hardest to ignore this fact, since I hate being the wuss in a group.

     Arizona, as it is correctly stereotyped, is heated beyond belief. This isn't an issue for the people who know the correct ways to defeat it (i.e., stay inside). As a adolescent, I knew very little in the ways of using sunscreen or staying hydrated.

     My carelessness resulted in a very severe sun stroke.

     My body simply hated me. Any ingested liquids were waging a losing war of attempting to find residence. The culprit? My liver. It was basically the HOA, and it shut down. This caused the loss of shelter for any liquids, and evicted them with severity.

     This war was fought with all kinds of pathogens, all on the battlefield of my internal system. I really wanted to simply lie down and die, because the pain was so severe.


     Now that I have shared this two experiences, please try to come to terms with how bad this sun burn I have hurts.

     That is all.

My 5 Favorite Video Games

     This list will probably be really ill-written, and containing games that nobody likes. That is because despite the fact that I am making this list, I have had very few instances where I've actually owned a console and played games for it. 

     That being said, a lot of these will just be games I played over at friends' houses.

     Yeah, I'm a cheep-o like that.

My 5 Favorite Video Games

1. Legend of Zelda

     The very first time I was introduced to Legend of Zelda was for a very brief period when my family owned a GameCube, and I watched my dad play. A couple years later, we owned a GameBoy Advanced SP, which for those of you who don't know, was basically a Nintendo DS with one screen, no pen. 

     For that particular relic, we owned a copy of an apparently little-known Zelda game, The Minish Cap. I played through that game so many times that I think, subconsciously, I was continuously trying to shorten the amount of time it took me to completely beat the game. I think I whittled it down to half an hour at one point in time.

2. Final Fantasy

     After that GameBoy got busted, eventually we owned a PSP. I will admit, I really like that thing. We had a couple games for it, one being Daxter. It was alright, but I didn't focus on it too much.

     However, for it we had Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core. To this day, I'm not sure if it actually counted as a Final Fantasy game, but it was pretty cool. It was one of the only games we had that felt like an actual game.

     A couple years later, we had an XBox 360. One of the first games we purchased for it was Final Fantasy XIII. Since it had been several years prior that I was actually good at the series and its gameplay, I proved to be a pretty sucky return-gamer. 

3. Ratchet and Clank

     We also had Ratchet and Clank for the beloved PSP. Like The Minish Cap, I played this one through until my eyes bled. And then some. I felt like a beast at the game, even though now I can't really remember which one it was...

4. Lego Stuffs

     I've said this enough times for it to become annoying, but I'm a child at heart. I have started to "ween" myself, if you will, from enjoying myself with the Lego genre of games. But, for a long time I really did enjoy every single one of them. Now they're just kind of repetitive. But maybe I'm wrong. (That's an invitation to tell me so.)

5. Rock Band/Guitar Hero

     You enthusiasts might tell me that there is a huge difference between the two games, that Rock Band is just a rip off, blah blah blah. I apologize, but it's "still rock and roll to me." Heh heh. Billy Joel.

     To, it's all the same. You pick up a simplified instrument, and then have at it. I don't suck, but I'm also not any where near awesome, which explains why nobody wants to play it with me... *sigh*

     Alright, as always, leave a comment below. You could tell me some of your favorite video games, maybe. Or maybe not. You can take your pick. You could also tell me how awful my choices were! That could work to. 

Southwest Airlines

     The terminal in Burbank, California is so small, it is next to non-existent. If you wanted to run a mile, you could probably just run up and down the whole airport a couple times and you'd be good.

     After going through the three-lane security check in, I quickly got to my gate, as it was only ten meters from the x-ray.

     I had no reading material to occupy me for the next four hours. (The flight to Vegas was an hour, the layover one and a half hours, and the flight to Boise an equal amount of time. Correct my math if I'm wrong.) I purchased the latest issues of Wired and Popular Mechanics and leisurely waited for a while.

     As soon as I stepped off the plane, I knew I was in Vegas. Six feet from the gate, only six feet, were slot machines. On top of that, there were more bars than one could count. I just thought this was funny, since Burbank and Boise simply have the occasional arcade game, and sometimes a candy store.

     Now, I call this post Southwest Airlines because that's the company I flew with. Also, since I was likely to forget the things said, I didn't want to wait to make a list for Friday.

     There are several things that make me appreciate Southwest over the competition.

     First off, it's pretty much the only airline I've flown with. It's hard to like something else when you haven't tried it, I suppose. But even so, there are still some pretty good things about Southwest.

     When I flew down to Arizona last year, I flew with a different airline besides Southwest. My aunt and uncle had to pay a whole extra $100, just because I was only 14. Southwest, however, waived that fee. They don't give a crap (thankfully). So I like Southwest because of the lack of tacked-on fees.

     Probably the biggest reason I appreciate Southwest is because the crew and captains tend to be more comical. Other airlines may do this, but of the three others I've gone with, they didn't.

     This is the part I was likely to forget reeeeeeal soon.

     Since I don't have very good memory, and the flights were yesterday, I'm just going to spew these out really fast.

"Hold on to your hat and lose your cash, because we're in Vegas!"

"Oxygen masks will drop down, just pull it around your head and breath normally. After you get the mask on, ladies, please be willing to help your husband, boyfriend, child, and or Boise State Fan."

"In the pocket on the seat in front of you you will find a safety pamphlet. Please take some time to read this. If you don't feel like reading, it has plenty of pretty pictures."

     Crap. Starting to forget them now. Let me see...

(To the tune of that song that I only know from Barney)
"We love you
You love us
We're much faster than the bus
We hope you enjoyed our hospitality
Marry one of us and you'll fly free"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are landing right now, and have a very full flight. Right outside the windows are our competitors, so if you could just kindly put your face right smack-dab in the window for us, to show them we're awesome, that'd be great."

Six Flags, Once More

     As I spend some time in California, my aunt and uncle took an extra step at being generous. My uncle took me with him to Six Flags. Since I am apparently a selfish teenager, who absorbs funds like a sponge that has been sitting in Death Valley for six millennium, it was only to be me and my uncle that were going to go to the "thrill capital of the world."

     My uncle is an extreme thrill seeker, at least when it comes to roller coasters. When we went to Six Flags last year, he was less than happy with the rate at which I kept up. Last year it was me, my uncle, a couple aunts, and the afore-mentioned attractive aunt's friend. The friend and my uncle sped through the coasters, as the aunts and I slowly persevered through some rides.

     Because this year was to be just me and my adrenaline-junkie uncle, I didn't want to ruin things for him by being slow. I made a pact to keep up with him!

     Goodness gracious.

     We started by going on all the rides that I had previously said I wouldn't go near. My uncle did this intentionally, despite the fact that I had not told him which rides I was intentionally avoiding. 

     The first of the rides we ventured upon was Tatsu. Basically, you're in the Super Man flying position the whole time, being held in place by just the harness. 

     I have to say, like last year, I quickly got over my fear of roller coasters after riding that one. I was more willing to ride them and actually try to enjoy myself.

     Because now I was more concerned with trying to have fun, instead of worrying about not dying, we laughed at quite a few things over the course of the seven hours we were there.

     There was an actual roller coaster called Superman, and my uncle talked me into going on it. Basically, you speed straight up, then come barreling straight back down. I was worried about the height initially, but on the way up, that was the least of my worries. 

     As we sat in the cart, waiting for some kind of countdown or other, the controls manager said in a rushed voice, "Alright folks, due to budget cuts, we don't really have time for a count-"

     I think we went from 0 to 60 in holy-freaking-crap-that's-fast seconds. They had simply started the ride without warning, which I think in the end was a good thing. It's like saying, "on three!" but actually going on two. The extra surprise ended up being awesome.

     As we went up, I couldn't even concentrate enough to focus on the height. The speed alone was enough to completely discombobulate me. My uncle somehow managed to whip out an Ice Breaker candy thing, and we watched it float in zero gravity as we reached the top of the ride. 

     That. Was AWESOME.

     On another ride later in the day, we found ourselves waiting impatiently. That lined seemed to move ten times slower than all the others, the reason being their was only one set of cars (all the other rides had two or three). 

     Once we finally got to the top of the steps in the final waiting area, we could see the controls manager sitting in the corner with her microphone.

     I was tempted to call suicide watch after looking at that girl.

     Her voice through the speakers had all the enthusiasm you would expect from a roller coaster operator (some of them are super excited sounding), but her face. She had this look in her eyes that said if someone pulled out a gun, she would gladly volunteer to go first. I don't think anybody can hate their job more than this girl does. My uncle and I were busting up over her for the whole duration of the ride. 

     I definitely learned my lesson on travelling in small numbers on Monday. Several times throughout the day, we'd be waiting in line, much farther back then I would prefer, and since it was just the two of us, we'd be pulled forward to fill vacancies in front of the larger groups. It was sweet. I think this happened at least nine times. At least.

     I did not exploit my older-looking features on the age guess booth, which was a good thing for my conscience. 

     When it came time for lunch, we just went to one of the many restaurants that were placed around the park. My uncle ordered the chicken club, I the bacon cheeseburger. When they gave us our food, the first item we heard was something of a blur. It game out as this garbled mess, where when translated somewhat coherently came out as, "blrglhrbl fdith bacon." 

     We assumed that it was my order, due to the bacon part. Then when she handed us the second part, we thought the lady had screwed up the order, since she said, "...and here's your bacon cheeseburger."

     Since we had been standing and waiting for that single sandwich for five minutes, we just took it and left to sit.

     I bit into my blrglhrbl fdith bacon, and he bit into his burger thing. As I bit into mine, my tongue was confused. It was expecting a burger, but I got

     "Chicken. This is chicken. With bacon."

     Apparently, the lady DID get our orders right, we just did it wrong. Sigh.

     Alright, morals of these stories.

1. There is an advantage in numbers. Sometimes in small ones, sometimes in large.

2. Listen closely. 

3. Don't be quick to judge.

4. Fear can be fun.

It Has Begun

     When I first started this blog, I just posted when I felt like it. With past attempts at creating a similar webpage, this kind of writing schedule ultimately led to doom and the end to the site.

     For the past couple weeks, I've been challenging myself. Besides Sunday, I've been trying to post nearly every day. To do this, I will occasionally take an hour out of a day to write two to three posts ahead of time, and then schedule them to come on one day after the other.

     I'm currently in California, not Arizona. Where I was before, I had constant access to the internet pretty much, and it was easy enough to take the time out of my sitting-around-the-house plans to write up some stuff.

     But now, I'm having a hard time getting myself onto the computer when there's a lot of stuff to do here. Not that I don't enjoy blogging, mind you. I've just found it hard to correlate my free time with the occurrences of the computer being unoccupied.

     So for the first time in two weeks now, this post is actually being written on the day it is posted. I'll be back to my regular bout of writing-ahead-of-time soon enough, since I'll be back "home" pretty soon (it's "home" because I don't really feel like it's where I belong yet).

     Today I'm going to the zoo (not sure which one), in fact, I left about an hour ago. I say that since I'll probably schedule this to be posted at 10-ish. I'm leaving in ten minutes! Lolz.

     I know. These are just getting lamer and lamer. But I really do have stuff to actually say, and stories to tell. They'll get out as soon as I'm done being... here? I don't know. Soon, though.

I Have an Addiction

     Since I am currently writing this on a small mobile device, this is going to be a short one. Sorry to inconvenience the few people who actually read this.

     Lately, I've discovered websites that have the miraculous ability to allow me to watch episodes of shows (please don't tell on me). My new show, what with me being done with Sherlock and Doctor Who, is Big Bang Theory.

     Seeing as this sitcom makes hundreds of nerdy jokes, it would seem natural for me to be attracted to this show. However, for reasons unlisted, I have just barely gotten into the show.

     I'm working on it, though. I lost track, but I'm pretty sure I watched a total of 3+ hours of the show in a single day. After doing the math, that comes out to about 10 episodes, I think.

     Today I'll be at Six Flags, so hopefully I will share some experiences from that tomorrow.

     UNTIL then.

Highway to California

     As you may know from reading previous posts, I've been in Arizona for the past month. However, I just took a little trip within a trip, and am now in California, and will be for the next week. It wasn't necessarily the easiest journey getting here, though.

     The plan was to leave by nine o'clock, so that we could get to the end of our alleged eight-hour-drive by the time fireworks started. After driving for three minutes in the heat of the Arizona morning, we knew something was wrong. That AC was turned up full blast, by we were just getting face-fulls of hot air.

     The AC was broken.

     It's summer. Moreover, it's summer in Arizona. That's just adding insult to injury. Salt to an open wound. A slap to a sunburn.

     We had a general consensus that we would definitely not be going on the drive with a broken AC unit. Since it was the 4th of July, open auto body shops were scarce. Luckily, my aunt and uncle have an mechanically-oriented friend, who quickly scoped out the problem.

     In an effort to repair a previous problem, my uncle kind of created a new one. I don't speak car, but I'm pretty sure what happened was that there was too much of a fluid, so it was overflowing, resulting in lack of AC.

     It was an easy fix, thankfully, so we got on the road in about an hour.

     I'll try to not complain too much about the journey, in case my aunt and uncle end up reading this. I don't have too much room to complain anyways. I will say though, the oldest of the kids was something of an issue.

     She is currently in the "why" stage, meaning she constantly asks questions about absolutely everything. For the first five seconds it was adorable, but after that I wanted to be deaf.

     Her most asked questions were:

• Are we in California?
• Where's California?
• Are we driving?
• Can I have some alligator?

     Alligator is the kids' name for Gatorade.

     She asked each question at least ten times, probably seventy-two times for others.

     The youngest, still not yet two, was going through being-held withdrawals. He had this impressive respiration cycle, as he managed to hold his breath for a full twenty-three seconds before screaming his little head off.

     Upsides? I get to fly back, not drive.

     Hah. Hah hah hah. Hah! He he.

Hobbies[ish]

     Despite what my imaginary readers probably think, I do things besides write stories. Not that many of you think that.

     However, I guess I do spend a fair amount of time thinking about this kind of stuff. Even so, It did not make it onto my list of...

Five Nerdy-ish Hobbies

1. Piano

     When I have an actual piano on hand[s], I spend a fair amount of my time tinkering around on the keys. In fact, a lot more time then I think would be socially acceptable.

2. Reading

     Most people my age turn and run when they hear this bit, but I LOVE to read. I'll read most anything, actually. Except for historical fiction. I absolutely detest historical fiction.

3. Jigsaw Puzzles

     I like to attribute my juvenile intelligence to my mass obsession with jigsaw puzzles. I did them as often as I could, and still do.

     These puzzle projects would always be with family members, so it was almost competitive puzzle building. It was of the highest honor to put in the last piece, so I started out with taking one piece and stowing it in my pocket early on in the puzzle, so that I would be guaranteed that awesome feeling of being the finisher.

4. Drafting/Drawing

     You probably couldn't tell by my earlier horrendous drawing, but I really do enjoy doodling and sketching. I've done my own fair share of art projects.

     Drafting is basically drawing, but with computer programs such as AutoCAD. I've learned to seriously enjoy myself while using the programs.

5. Learning

     Many people would argue me on this, but the way I do it, it practically is a hobby.

     The Dewey Decimal system, as you may know, is a library organization system, dividing nonfictional books by subject.

     1-99.999 is the informational texts, but the more specific area is the 30's area. I've read every and any book in that range, because they are the trivia books.

     Moffat's Sherlock would disagree with me for filling my head with useless knowledge, but I can't help it. They are the awesome books.

     Alright, as always, thanks for reading, and I am still more than happy to hear any suggestions for next week's list topic.

The Start of a Career

     When I was just barely four years old, my family lived in Mesa, Arizona. At the time, there was a program available to kids my age called pre-k. This was pretty much preschool, just with a different name.

     The school that I attended was called Thomas Edison Elementary.

     This is where my nerd career began.

     I honestly don't remember what kind of "work" we did in that class. I just assume that it was something like coloring pictures of Barney and stacking blocks.

     The circumstances surrounding this turning point are unknown to me, aside from the fact that I did something good enough for the teacher to notice. She talked to somebody, who talked to someone else, who then contacted my parents.

     The school wanted to put me in 1st grade.

     I was four years old, and they wanted to put me with the big kids who were six and seven. I barely knew what was going on, but now I look back and think, "what the flying crap?"

     My parents declined the first grade jump offer, but settled for the middle ground. Because of this, I was placed in kindergarten a year early.

     I said goodbye to the people I barely knew, and moved on to the other class. A couple unique opportunities were given to me over that year and the next.

     There was this math club at the school. In order to join, you had to do so well on this timed addition and subtraction test.

     Ah, simple math functions. I miss them. Now it's all about factoring polynomials and finding the sum of an infinite series.

     Basically, I got into the club. Voluntarily. I was flippin' excited. I got to do math for fun! That was the coolest thing ever.

     The school had these occasional writing competitions. As with just about all such competitions, there was different divisions. For this, it was by grade and genre.

     Along with that, teachers would occasionally give out these tickets, signifying that you did good on an assignment.

     If you won in any way, shape, or form, you got a dollar coin as a prize.

     I already had this deep interest in writing, so I did as well as I possibly could so I could try and get one of those Susan B. Anthony coins.

     I kid you not, I'm pretty sure I came home with one of those coins every other week. Like a BOSS! Four years old, and I felt like I had a salary.

     Aside from adults, it's needless to say none of my peers were impressed. I was already a juvenile nerd.

     And I have been that way ever since.

Shopping

     In recent days, in my hours of boredom, I've taken up doodling. I'm not good, but im also not... awful.

     While bored, I decided to draw up a "comic" based on an experience I had yesterday at Target. I didn't purchase any alcohol, but the aisle title was actually there.

I have now been told that those two actually go hand in hand.

     If people actually like to see my bad doodles, I might end up posting more.

     Maybe even if you guys don't like them.

Next

The Cat Who Could Fly

     This past school year, I was enrolled in CP Chemistry, taught by Mr. Kusterer. This is pronounced Kust-er. No one really knows why there's an extra -er at the end.

     When I was talking about my redneck segway, I may have exaggerated a little when I said that that particular teacher was the coolest ever. Mr. Kusterer actually is, if you're on his good side.

     Mr. K spent several years serving for the military, and old habits die hard. He still keeps this flat-top haircut, with the little hair that he has left. He is particularly short, and very old. Very.

     He got side tracked quite often. His topics ranged from the economy to conspiracies, but sometimes, he would tell us stories from his life.

     This is one of those stories.

     My memory isn't the best, but I'll try to tell the story as accurately as possible.

     "Quite a few years back, it was my oldest daughter's fourth birthday. The wife had asked me to prepare for the party, with decorations and such.

     "I loved my daughter, and wanted her to have those fancy floating balloons that were all the rage. Helium was certainly not available at the time, so I had to resort to my knowledge of chemistry to get the job done."

     In the class, we had just done this experiment where pure zinc nuggets are put inside a beaker full of hydrochloric acid. This combination makes the acid boil and the zinc melt, which releases a white gas. We quickly put a latex balloon over the mouth of the beaker, and filled the thing up with the gas. The gas is less dense then the composition of the surrounding air, so it floats. In fact, it floats much better than helium does.

     This is what Mr. K used to fill the balloons.

     "I whipped up some of the gas to fill the balloons with, and got around fifty big ole' ones put together in the shed in the backyard. At this precise moment, our cat walked by me.

     "Inspiration struck me. We happened to have a harness of sorts in the shed, and I managed to get it onto the cat. I received wounds in 'Nam, but those had nothing on that cat. After getting the harness on the cat, I attached the balloons onto the harness!

     "I left the cat in the shed and went outside to find my daughter. After asking if she wanted to walk the cat, she followed me back to the shed.

     "When I got back, the cat was hovering. Just floating slightly off the ground as the balloons bounced around along the ceiling. I tied some twine to the harness, and gave the other end to my daughter.

     "She walked the cat outside, as he gently floated along. As I watched her as she giggled at her flying cat, I figured that this was a perfect moment to take a picture. I ran inside, looking for the film, and then I came back outside.

     "My daughter had let go. The string that she was holding onto was about seven feet off the ground now, and I couldn't reach it, as you can see by my stature. I ran back into the shed to grab the ladder.

     "There was a slight breeze, and the balloons had better lift than I thought, because the cat was getting a little higher and farther away. I chased the flying cat with the ladder around the yard. Eventually, the string was out of the reach of the ladder, and was going toward the power lines.

     "It was barely by a whisker, but the cat missed the lines. Went up above them. Perhaps there was an updraft, because the cat started to fly up and onward at a much higher pace now.

     "Only one option was left. I would have to shoot the balloons down. I ran back into my attic stash to find my 12 gauge. By the time I got back, the cat and balloons were little more then a speck in the distance. Even I couldn't make that shot.

     "So we said goodbye to the cat as she floated away. Oddly enough, my daughter wasn't even disappointed. She thought the whole thing was a game, and barely remembered the whole incident.

     "To this day, I still wonder what killed the cat: the altitude, the cold, or the drop? And if it somehow survived the height and temperature, will a cat still land on it's feet from 10,000 feet?

     "There must be some kind of term for this, but I have this continually haunting fear that one day, I'll be driving along, and suddenly this frozen chunk of iced cat will land on my wind shield and end my life early."

     And THAT is my crazy chemistry teacher. There are many more things he shared with us over the course of the year, but I think that's enough for now.

     I know that some of you will be skeptical that this is even possible. But even if it isn't, why not just humor the thought and call it plausible?