<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:40:18.604-05:00</updated><category term='Stony Brook'/><title type='text'>Andrew Kirschner</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;img src="http://fc50.deviantart.com/fs31/f/2008/224/b/e/DeviantID___1_by_the2slayers.jpg"&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>100</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-6469890522413725704</id><published>2009-03-21T16:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T16:43:43.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Youth</title><content type='html'>I think I may have been interpreting Brett incorrectly all these years. I think there is something that other people see in him that I have been overlooking. What brought this up was a trip into my old files from high school. Some of the blog posts I wrote, the instant message conversations I had and the artwork I created reflect that of a five year old. I always thought that my mentality back in high school far surpassed that of my brothers at his current age, but upon reflection of the materials from back then - I'm thinking not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why people were friends with me back then. I wrote that I was brutally honest to the point that if you were fat and were to ask me what I thought of you that I would tell you that you were fat. I continued to take pride in the fact that I considered myself to be some form of devil reincarnate. What in the hell? I immediately drew comparison to that of my little brother as I constantly rag on him for his immaturity and lack of understanding with other people. But, I am starting to understand that at some point I flipped the switch from being that little obnoxious high school boy to being [somewhat] more mature. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are things Brett does that I have never and will never do. But, for the most part, his actions and personality don't deviate as much from the way I acted when I was his age. It's just weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my concert is slowly drawing near. A few people who I want to be there can't be there and it is definitely bringing me down a bit. Not very many people understand the importance of my performances. As ridiculous as it sounds, if you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can &lt;/span&gt;be there and you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;don't come &lt;/span&gt;- I tend to spite you. I seriously reflect on the foundation of my friendship with the person. It sounds horrible but I think it has something to do with the fact that I express myself a lot through my performances and the activities I lend myself to on campus and the greatest reward I reap from all of this is getting to share it with the people that I care about. I know people have obligations and some people just plain don't care. And that's fine. But I do take notice. Oh boy, do I take notice. I wish I wasn't such a hard-ass about it. I'll work on letting loose a bit - it's not exactly fair of me to expect other people to understand. However, I will say that even when I express the importance of it to me - some people who &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; make it still do not come. That's when I truly get spiteful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other more boring news I recently quit my internship. I told them that course-credit internships are completely understandable so long as the experience you get from it replaces the monetary compensation. I then told them that I would be happy to drive the 35 minutes, 3 times a week if I were to be paid, but that otherwise I am just wasting my time answering phones and printing contracts. I spent all last Thursday helping my boss (who hasn't a clue as to which end is up in the new millennium) understand how clicking "Post" on Craig's List will enable to you "post" an apartment ad. Dear god. I am no tutor for old folks, that's for sure. Give me a high school student or below and I will lend my knowledge to them. But older people expect so much more from you. No, I cannot make your computer float and click things by voice activation. Why? Because it's not possible. - End vent - I also picked up a paid internship at the study abroad office. I hope it expands because there is potential for me to meet the head of marketing for all of Stony Brook University. That would be fantastic. On the note of the study abroad office, I will be going to Florence in the Spring of 2010. It's going to be epic. And my friends have tentative plans to come with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've read all of this - comment so that I know to give you a cookie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-6469890522413725704?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/6469890522413725704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=6469890522413725704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6469890522413725704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6469890522413725704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2009/03/youth.html' title='Youth'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3016408812271222884</id><published>2009-02-21T20:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T20:17:56.762-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stony Brook'/><title type='text'>Housing</title><content type='html'>It's sort of irritating to look back and see that I should have written my experiences and frustrations down when they happened. There's something about writing it down as it's happening that has a much more legitimate, fiery feeling than reflecting upon it months later. I was just called into my RHD's office today, again, thinking I did something wrong. Turns out, she just wants to ask me about housing. It astounds me that, despite her utter hatred for her job, she still sticks it out and tries to make it as pleasant an experience as it can be for everyone. She wanted to ask if I wanted the RA room again for next year because she was considering giving it up for an actual RA next year. I think the consensus was that we would give it up if we could get the room our current RA resides in (which, is freaking enormous).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminded me of the day that my roommate just left in the middle of the day after 1.5 years without so much as a goodbye. I was actually really upset. The idea that I was going to have a random roommate scared me. I need to be in control of who I am going to live with for an entire year - I don't consider that an unreasonable request. I immediately called Campus Residences because my RHD told me that I had but a week to get a new roommate. The man I talked to, name unknown at the moment, was a complete (for lack of a better word), asshole. It was ridiculous. Sometimes it really shocks me how uncompassionate the faculty at Stony Brook can be. There is a vast range of staff that ranges from people who you just want to hug because their kindess is too much... but, there are also people on the other end of the spectrum. Those people make me want to vomit. Why in the WORLD do they hire people? Are their interviewing skills &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; great, that they don't notice the Anti-Christ within them? Well, anyways, he basically would not help me out at all. I had a friend who was at the "bottom" of the de-tripling list and he would not budge. I asked him why not, and he responded with something along the lines of "How would it be fair if I bumped your friend to the top of list when there are other people above him?" And I said "Didn't you say it was a lottery?" And he said "Yes? Your point?" "Well, my point is, if it's truly a lottery... everyone has the same right to move out. They've all been waiting the same amount of time to be de-tripled. So it's not fair in any case for anyone to be at the 'bottom' of the list." I really didn't see how my point was invalid. It would just be one person helping out another person. It was a very strange situation. Not many times does someone's roommate leave in the middle of the day without somuch as a goodbye. I explained to him that I had a horrible suitemate situation the year before that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;put&lt;/span&gt; me in this room in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it boiled down to was: asshole. What's the point of having people work that position of Campus Residences anyways if there is no way to alter anything? Anyways, I asked around and discovered a whole handful of different situations similar to mine that really sickened me. One of which was that one girl in one of the rooms in a suite upstairs didn't show up. Eventually, Campus Res found out and tried to put someone in there. Problem was, the people in the suite had all gotten close and one of the girls in the tripled room didn't want to leave so asked if she could simply move into the room right next to hers so she could stay in the suite. They said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I got a roommate the very next day - not a week later. It wasn't even 24 hours. As luck has it, we became really close and I don't think I could ask for a better roommate. But, screw that man at Campus Residences. You're an ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3016408812271222884?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3016408812271222884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3016408812271222884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3016408812271222884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3016408812271222884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2009/02/housing.html' title='Housing'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-993296487999054108</id><published>2009-01-19T12:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:32.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End of an Era</title><content type='html'>So last night I attended the final performance of Spring Awakening. Boy, was &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; emotionally draining. Have you ever been to a final performance on Broadway? The only people in the theater are die-hard fans, and the hundreds of producers - who are all die hard fans. Even the Spice Girls concert (let's not talk about that) was not as crazy as it was last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had gone to May 18th's performance, which was the final night for the two leads, and I was sure that nothing could touch upon that amazing night of theatre. But, nothing could compare to last night's show. I have never experienced such a sensational form of live music before in my entire life. When their show-defining number came on (Totally Fucked) they got their immediate standing ovation. That was no surprise. What was a surprise was that the guitar held out a high pitched note for the entirety of the standing o. And then the drums came in. And then the song reprised from "Yeah, you're fucked all right..." which is the pinnacle of the song in which everyone can't help but bop their heads, tap their feet, and, let's face it, go crazy.  I can honestly say that I have never experienced such mind shattering joy. In retrospect, I don't really know what came over me. It was like some demon of unparalled euphoria was released and I couldn't help but wear a smile that was actually painful to sustain. I was jumping and clapping and when the number was over and the louder roar of the audience chimed in, I literally collapsed on my seat with a giant grin over my face. I &lt;em&gt;literally&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;could not stand up. So I delivered what was more of a sitting ovation. Does that make any sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, will I miss this show. Last night was just evidence of how many people it touched. To all my friends who think I'm nuts going as many times as I did... the only way I can explain it is by saying that Spring Awakening to me was the equivalent of someone elses favorite band, singer, performer, etc. And now that band has broken up and we'll see what else is in store for them (and for me). The other day, Petty asked me what was the best day of my life. Well, I can definitely say that last night was easily one of the (if not &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt;) best moments I've ever experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-993296487999054108?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/993296487999054108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=993296487999054108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/993296487999054108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/993296487999054108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/end-of-era.html' title='End of an Era'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2261696771500725759</id><published>2009-01-11T02:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:31.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alcohol</title><content type='html'>I really wish alcohol didn't rule peoples' lives. While I know Maddi is the only one that reads this and this doesn't apply to her... it really makes me sick how much alcohol can determine the fate of (I'd estimate) 90% of my friends. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess being friends with people for almost a decade doesn't really have an influence if the alternative is them going to a fucking bar and do ridiculous things. It's really &lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;FUCKING GREAT&lt;/span&gt;. I REFUSE to regret being 19.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2261696771500725759?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2261696771500725759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2261696771500725759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2261696771500725759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2261696771500725759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2009/01/alcohol.html' title='Alcohol'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-6940081523018100314</id><published>2008-12-28T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:30.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>I realize it's been an absurdly long time since I've written in this thing. I think I may need to face the reality that my time here at LiveJournal never really amounted to anything and I may as well give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, here is my purpose for today. I need to write down somewhere what movies must be seen before the Academy Awards hit.  Bold denotes me having already seen it, stars that I really want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Duchess&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Boy in the Striped Pajamas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Milk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Australia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doubt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Changeling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Defiance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Revolutionary Road*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel Getting Married*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gran Turino*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frost/Nixon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Bees&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Curious Case of Benjamin Button&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slumdog Millionaire&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Reader*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've Loved You So Long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Go Lucky*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frozen River&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vicky Cristina Barcelona&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Wrestler&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have a while to go. I don't want to see The Wrestler but I know I have to. Something about it already irks me. So far I want Brad Pitt to win for Best Actor. He's really more than just a pretty face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-6940081523018100314?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/6940081523018100314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=6940081523018100314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6940081523018100314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6940081523018100314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/12/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-693531505565765296</id><published>2008-08-20T01:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:29.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminder</title><content type='html'>Things I am going to write about soon in my LJ...1. Getting Matt Doyle to sign my vector.2. The lyrics to Plain Jane Fat Ass since none exist.3. How busy my schedule is about to become.4. How I will be leaving LiveJournal after 6 years and moving over to Blogger.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-693531505565765296?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/693531505565765296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=693531505565765296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/693531505565765296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/693531505565765296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/08/reminder.html' title='Reminder'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7763139231979163615</id><published>2008-07-26T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:28.835-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Awakening</title><content type='html'>Do you think cutting the ends of your hair helps it to grow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought I could explain a little bit about my current obsession so that I never forget it. Spring Awakening is god. Have you ever had an obsession with something? An actor or an actress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about that... only apply it to something with &lt;b&gt;SUBSTANCE&lt;/b&gt;. Spring Awakening is an amazing show. Albeit, it's a little weird to find someone obsessed with a Broadway show - as opposed to RENT where people listened to the soundtrack and danced around singing it like little boppy teenagers. One thing I remember was when I was in High School and I was standing in line for my spicy chicken. I remember just having understood where Doug, Cassie, Marissa, and Abby had gotten that AMAZING tune (Seasons of Love) about ten million minutes and seasons of something or another from. Anyways, I was totally infatuated by this music because it was just fantastic! And then some jappy preppy cookie cutter of Half Hollow Hills bitch was singing "Take Me or Leave Me." It was in that moment that I realized how dead the music was and how, by liking it so much, I was just another clone that the media wanted to spit out. Thank god I hated the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to Spring Awakening. So here's the thing about this show. To me, the show represents a few different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am constantly having existentialist thoughts. I believe that I have to create my own happiness because, shit, life aint going to create it for me. Mix that with my CONSTANT thought of "If I could die tomorrow what will I regret not doing?" and... wa-la - seen Spring Awakening 8 times in the past 2.5 months. Anyways, my point is, when I get to sit in that theatre and watch what is &lt;i&gt;the&lt;/i&gt; most incredible show ever written... I am happy. I sit there and I smile for two and a half hours and nothing can touch me. For that block of time I am in utter bliss and at home. It sounds ridiculous... but I have the rest of my life to make money. I don't think I am going to grow up and be unbelievably rich. But I also think that a lot of us have grown up with so little money at our fingertips, that even just making 40k in one year is going to be unfathomable to most of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing this show represents to me is just... the MEANING behind it. You can watch this show 414 times (as the bitch in front of Ashley and I did) and honestly walk out with a different meaning 414 times. You can get chills 414 times. And you can walk out of that theatre having a new appreciation for what talent really is... 414 times. You can read the synopsis, as Ariel did, and think you understand... but you just can't possibly. Even I still don't recognize what the show is all about. It's about freedom and youth and living in a society in which you want to be who you want to be. How many of us CAN'T relate to that. Not many, I'll tell you that much. In no way can someone watch that show and not relate to it in one way or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I solidified the idea that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life when sitting in that theatre. Yeah, I'm not talented enough to be in that spot that those lucky ass teenagers are in. But, fuck, I'm definitely hard core enough to be in that business. I can manage the hell out of a show, market, produce, etc. the hell out of anyone I know. And it's not like I don't have a musical bone in my body.. it's such a big part of who I am today. Little Shop much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for all of you who aren't reading this, and think "Jeez, that kid is crazy. Why does he keep going there?" &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;THAT'S&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; why. It's the same reason Brandon reads books, or Pettway cooks, or Ariel does design work. Yeah, it's slightly more expensive... but who fucking gives a shit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7763139231979163615?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7763139231979163615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7763139231979163615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7763139231979163615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7763139231979163615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/07/spring-awakening.html' title='Spring Awakening'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5845874136926632701</id><published>2008-06-29T13:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:27.821-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Money</title><content type='html'>A lot of our friends used to be fat. Cows, even. Now, all of them are skinny. And comparing pictures of me from then to now, I've put on a good amount of weight. That's not implying I'm fat. That's implying that I used to look like a skeleton and now I have meat on my bones. Congratulations to all who used to be fat. You're not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that - I'm hemorrhaging money out of my left hand. I keep impulsively buying Broadway tickets on a whim. My train of thought goes like this. &lt;i&gt;I have around $10,000 in my bank account. I've been saving it for emergencies. I love Broadway. I &lt;b&gt;really&lt;/b&gt; love Broadway... What if I die tomorrow? Oh my god, I'll die tomorrow and not have spent money on the one thing in this world that makes me happy! ::clicks Ticketmaster:: &lt;/i&gt;This unhealthy obsession has led to two different things. Me accepting a job offer at Loewy Designs. They found me - not the other way around. And me obtaining a credit card. No one would actually give it to me but I somehow got one, with a $1,200 credit limit. ::does math:: That's around 6 Broadway shows per month! Gah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently failing my summer classes. A lot of times I just keep putting things into perspective for myself. While education is most certainly important... this past year has been an awakening call for me. I had such perfect grades in high school (I think I even posted them on Livejournal like a cocky sunnofabitch) that when I got to college I wanted to see what it was like to do other things that people in HSE did. And now I might very well be a slacker. Here's to hoping next semester is better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Shakespeare rocks. The idea and story of Romeo and Juliet is so overdone and overrated. But if you actually go and read the words... god Shakespeare gives me chills. And so does Matt Doyle. Go listen to him sing somewhere and you will have truly lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss some people. I thought this summer would be a little different. But I have been able to catch up and hang out with some old friends a lot. That's awesome for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5845874136926632701?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5845874136926632701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5845874136926632701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5845874136926632701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5845874136926632701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/06/money.html' title='Money'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8572402922704314273</id><published>2008-06-22T14:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:27.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>British Accents and Random People</title><content type='html'>Though no one will ever read this... to all those whom I called and left hideously long voicemail's styled with a British accent - I either apologize or ask that you keep the making fun of me to a minimum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8572402922704314273?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8572402922704314273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8572402922704314273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8572402922704314273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8572402922704314273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/06/british-accents-and-random-people.html' title='British Accents and Random People'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-6010469112861904953</id><published>2008-06-20T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:26.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thespians</title><content type='html'>Oops. Haven't updated in a while. This is for Gina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;b&gt;fucking&lt;/b&gt; love Thespians.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;b&gt;fucking &lt;/b&gt;love music.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;b&gt;fucking&lt;/b&gt; love Gina and Aurielle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I FUCKING LOVE THE COMBINATION OF THESPIAN SOCIETY, MUSIC, AND AURIELLE AND GINA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Screw this. I'm going back to high school. Who knew that people in HSE were more talented than people at college. I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Gina are going to run away together and sing sweet lullabies, Songs for a New World, and Mulan in each others ears until we die in each others arms as soul mates. And you can't stop us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-6010469112861904953?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/6010469112861904953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=6010469112861904953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6010469112861904953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6010469112861904953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/06/thespians.html' title='Thespians'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-607877730948240768</id><published>2008-03-08T15:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:26.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That's So SB</title><content type='html'>Recently I've turned over a new leaf in my life and I got to say - I'm quite enjoying it. I've become a lot more independent than I used to be and I've been able to accomplish so much by doing so. And that's not to say it's just because Tommy is not a big part of my life, but overall I feel as if I've been able to make decisions more based upon what I want rather than what other people expect of me.I know it sounds weird, but I feel as if I've digressed over the years. I feel like when I was in 9th and 10th grade, though I did get into many fights, at the core of myself was someone far more mature than the person I have become over the past few years. I rely on myself more than anyone else in this current time and age and it's something I truly enjoy and truly think improves me overall.With this, I've been able to keep in touch with so many of my friends from high school. I've even been able to get past that horrible part of my life in which everyone simultaneously became fed up with me and decided (rightfully so) that I was not worth their time. I've been able to make plans with people I really do want to hang out with. And, I don't know why, but I found it awfully surprising that people actually wanted to hang out with me as well.I think I'm finding my way and it's got me singing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-607877730948240768?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/607877730948240768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=607877730948240768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/607877730948240768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/607877730948240768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/03/that-so-sb.html' title='That&amp;#39;s So SB'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2894454188934649723</id><published>2008-02-19T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:26.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Woah</title><content type='html'>I made this for Brandon. Well it was for my art class. But I took it for Brandon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was just so funny... I thought I'd share it with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://img169.imageshack.us/img169/3079/meeeevf9.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2894454188934649723?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2894454188934649723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2894454188934649723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2894454188934649723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2894454188934649723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/02/woah.html' title='Woah'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1831762148393465655</id><published>2008-01-29T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:25.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in here in quite a while. Somehow, with more free time over my 7 week break, I had less time to do things. I think it has something to do with time management and when I'm away at school everything has its place in the day. Wake up, school, computer, dinner, free time, homework, sleep. It's just such a good flow (except for the waking up part - that bites the big one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm a tad in love with my new schedule. Except for the long days and hideously long work that I'm going to be doing - everything is just so... just so shimmering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't tell you my whole schedule but I will tell you about today. I woke up and went to a huge lecture where my life was transformed as I was attending The Legend of King Arthur. That's right, that's a class. And the professor spoke so amazingly I can hardly describe it. He literally transported us back to medieval times using old texts and snippets. It was wonderful. The only thing is his humor is quite on the dark, offensive side. Thankfully I grew up on Maddi and Brandon humor and nothing can touch that darkness. But, I have grown to admire that type of humor and it made me laugh even when others wouldn't. For instance, and this is just the base of the joke - not the actual joke, he talked about how we shouldn't call his office because his "damn bosses" won't let him smoke his cigars so he will be home not at school. He then went on to describe how ridiculous it is that they charge him $50 every time he smokes, yet they give abortions for free. Then stated, and I quote "I believe in abortions. I'm not THAT conservative. I think we should have MORE of them instead of all these bastard children that the movies eat up now-a-days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other news. I broke my toe this break. Look at if you dare. It's better looking now, but the toe still hurts. &lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted in here in quite a while. Somehow, with more free time over my 7 week break, I had less time to do things. I think it has something to do with time management and when I'm away at school everything has its place in the day. Wake up, school, computer, dinner, free time, homework, sleep. It's just such a good flow (except for the waking up part - that bites the big one).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I think I'm a tad in love with my new schedule. Except for the long days and hideously long work that I'm going to be doing - everything is just so... just so shimmering.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I won't tell you my whole schedule but I will tell you about today. I woke up and went to a huge lecture where my life was transformed as I was attending The Legend of King Arthur. That's right, that's a class. And the professor spoke so amazingly I can hardly describe it. He literally transported us back to medieval times using old texts and snippets. It was wonderful. The only thing is his humor is quite on the dark, offensive side. Thankfully I grew up on Maddi and Brandon humor and nothing can touch that darkness. But, I have grown to admire that type of humor and it made me laugh even when others wouldn't. For instance, and this is just the base of the joke - not the actual joke, he talked about how we shouldn't call his office because his "damn bosses" won't let him smoke his cigars so he will be home not at school. He then went on to describe how ridiculous it is that they charge him $50 every time he smokes, yet they give abortions for free. Then stated, and I quote "I believe in abortions. I'm not THAT conservative. I think we should have MORE of them instead of all these bastard children that the movies eat up now-a-days."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; He's brilliant.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; On other news. I broke my toe this break. Look at if you dare. It's better looking now, but the toe &lt;div align="center" class="ljcut" text="STILL HURTS"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://img297.imageshack.us/img297/7002/img2612smallon2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1831762148393465655?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1831762148393465655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1831762148393465655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1831762148393465655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1831762148393465655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2008/01/starting.html' title='Starting'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4496083114982573248</id><published>2007-12-10T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:22.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>As I sit here, avoiding my need to study for my business final tomorrow, it dawned on me that the reason I possibly got so worked up over this is because (as stated previously) I am normally very good with sorting out the fakes from the "reals." Not only am I good at it, but I guess I prided myself in it - to some extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take Lisa and Cara for instance. Popular? Yes. Unbelievably gorgeous? Hell yes. And I say gorgeous not in a shallow way, but in light of the fact that popular and "pretty" people are normally the ones that everyone regards as shallow or fraudulent- something meant solely for the eyes but nothing of substance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow I manage to make true friendships with very few people from my High School. So when I do make those friendships it's something that I invest wholly in. However, as I'm trying to change, I do not want to dwell on what appears to be an everlasting fucked up situation. The more I try to care and keep in touch the more I feel like all they want me to do is shut up. Of course, with some exceptions... Aurielle if you're reading this I love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convinced as I am that the only person who reads this is Maddi... I still want to censor myself a little bit. Hell... fuck &lt;strike&gt;censoring&lt;/strike&gt;. Lets get it out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;KIMI GREER&lt;/font&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Fuck&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;b&gt;YOU&lt;/b&gt;. You are the biggest fraud I have ever met as a friend. You hide behind your mother, your school work, your IM's. You can't keep promise or a meaning in what you say even if you were to try. I honestly feel &lt;font color="#ff0000"&gt;&lt;b&gt;bad&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;, not even for myself anymore, but for the people who think of you as a friend. Little do they know what you've said to me about them (and, oh yes my theatre people... I'm talking about &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;. Think that little incident where you made fun of her driving went unnoticed?). Everything you do revolves around you and it SUCKS SO HARD that people think you are such a good person. It sucks SO much because I know people 10 times greater than you that get no credit but because you are the &lt;b&gt;infamous &lt;/b&gt;Kimi Greer, everything you do for [your own personal benefit] is displayed to others as an act of kindness. So, fuck you Kimi Greer... just fuck you really, really hard - I'm washing my hands of you and it's about damn time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Gina... oh Gina. I have nothing bad to say about you. I just miss you and honestly wish that you did too. But, what can a person do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Gina, if you happen to read this and know the answer... please do tell. Since the FUCK when is Thespian Alumni banned from attending the cast party? As far as I could see there were only 2 people who bothered to come home for the play: Travis and me. Travis got to go, I'm assuming because he's dating Sami. And I couldn't? Why exactly? I know the "no friend" rule... but... honestly. 95% of the people there are my friends. And seeing as how the ditching incident only a week before - you'd think a prior Thespian would be welcomed back. Heh... some "family" I wasted my Senior year on. I guess it's just a family until you graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As something dramatic just went down between my roommate and his girlfriend this all seems a bit trivial so I'm just going to not write anymore. And I'm making this private.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4496083114982573248?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4496083114982573248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4496083114982573248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4496083114982573248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4496083114982573248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/12/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5669928211235318805</id><published>2007-12-04T13:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:17.472-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pearl 2</title><content type='html'>The concept of time has become entirely lost in my life. It has no place. I'm up at 6 o'clock in the morning and again I'm up at 9. Yet I manage to have more sleep than those 3 hours. It makes no sense.Essays have become everything I do. When I'm done with one, I have another to begin. I haven't attended my math class in 3 weeks and the final is in 2. This can't be good.Thespian society has never let me down so much in my entire life. And I've admitted defeat. But I can't help but feel like I should still try with Gina and Aurielle. I want to believe that they actually miss me when they say they do. It's something about the way they say it. I've completely given up on Kimi. She's of the past. I normally am good with sorting out the fakes from the reals. But I was deceived and I am now a recovering alcoholic.Even so, I'm going to continue to try with Aurielle and Gina. I miss them a lot. Which is weird, 'cause in High School I didn't hang out with them all that much. In fact, with Gina it's been never. I think it's something to do with the fact that I need a tangible source to miss from my high school. I need to feel that I had some connection to my high school other than my fiery hatred of it. And when I think about it, the number of people from high school that I actually ever cared about I can count it on one hand (this is all excluding the 'college' group). Alas, Gina and Aurielle are on my 'to-do' list.Christmas is coming up. I am going bankrupt. It's going to be exciting. I also believe I will be getting a temp. job.Last night I wrote 5 essays. It was entertaining and horrible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5669928211235318805?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5669928211235318805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5669928211235318805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5669928211235318805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5669928211235318805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/12/pearl-2.html' title='Pearl 2'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5718072364138829671</id><published>2007-11-20T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:16.848-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You FREAKING Kidding Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="2"&gt;Today I woke up. Today I woke up and my ear hurt. It hurt A LOT. Why did it hurt? Well, I had fallen asleep on the ear that I got my piercing on 2 months ago. I figured, it's completely healed - &lt;i&gt;what harm could be done?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad mistake, Andrew. I get to my Writing 102 class... and it's peer evaluation time. We get into assigned groups of 3 and we exchange our research papers and read them aloud. My two classmates are clearly idiots. I introduce myself, ask them who wants to read first - they both stare at me like I'm some sort of leader. I volunteer because their hideous gazes start to bother me. So, I'm reading my essay out loud - thinking "&lt;i&gt;Jeez... my ear REALLY hurts. What is this all about?&lt;/i&gt;" - and I finished. The two of them proceed to rip the paper I had spent hours upon hours researching and writing and this one bitch continues to talk about how there cannot be &lt;b&gt;proof&lt;/b&gt; that the supernatural exists just because of someones word. Instead of explaining to her that, that is the point of the essay all I can think about is my damn ear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to touch it, cause you know... ew germs. But eventually I give up and reach for the piercing. Lo' and behold - the piercing has gone missing. &lt;i&gt;Fuck. Where is it?&lt;/i&gt; I thought to myself. This doesn't make sense though... if the piercing is out &lt;b&gt;WHY DOES IT HURT SO BAD?&lt;/b&gt; A thought occurs to me. &lt;i&gt;No... no way. That'd be ludicrous. That can't POSSIBLY have happened. &lt;/i&gt;I think about it some more. &lt;i&gt;Holy shit... that's what happened.&lt;/i&gt; I jump up in the middle of my paper being trashed and say "I have to go to the bathroom" to my group. I jet out, run to the 2nd level of the building and run into the men's bathroom. A black man in a stall is singing as he is taking a shit. Just being in the room made me feel unsanitary. But my fears were confirmed.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;THE BALL AT THE END OF MY EARRING WENT INSIDE MY EAR.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I can only assume that I slept on my ear too hard. The little titanium sphere at the end of my piercing had lodged itself inside my actual ear lobe. I tried to push it through, but literally shrieked from the pain I felt. The black man stopping humming to his feces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran back downstairs, grabbed my shit, and told the professor I had to go. I ran through the horrible rain and cold to the other side of campus in a matter of 5 minutes - calling Ali, Tommy, my mom, and my dad (in that order) because I was in a state of paranoia and fear. I tell the nice lady at the desk what happened and that it was my first time being at the infirmary and so I didn't know what to do. She gave me paperwork to fill out and I obliged - secretly wanting to skip it and just have the doctor take care of it. In 5 minutes time the nurse calls my name. I go into the doctors room. It reminded me a little bit of the bathroom - only with tools instead of toilets. Not the cleanest place I've ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse starts asking me questions: &lt;i&gt;What are you allergic to? Do you drink? Do you do drugs? Do you take medicine daily? What's your earliest childhood memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Okay, so that last one is a lie. But the point is, I didn't really fucking care if I have an allergy to mustard or asthma as a child - I wanted that fucking earring out of my god damn ear and I would answer questions later. After taking my temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure (LOL!) - it was ready for them to pop the earring out. The doctor came in and was not particularly nice. I told him I wasn't good with pain and I couldn't pop it out myself and he responded with "How'd you get it pierced if you aren't good with pain?" I kind of just glared. He popped it out, told me I needed to get a bigger earring, and that the hole wouldn't close before the end of the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went to my next class [late] and told my professor what had happened and that I was really disoriented and shaky and needed to go back to my dorm. She was, of course, accommodating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story? Don't buy a earring with a ball the size of nothing. And if you do - DON'T FREAKING SLEEP ON IT.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5718072364138829671?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5718072364138829671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5718072364138829671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5718072364138829671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5718072364138829671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/11/are-you-freaking-kidding-me.html' title='Are You FREAKING Kidding Me?'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2815784238064497376</id><published>2007-11-19T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:15.682-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Beloved</title><content type='html'>STRANGEST. &lt;font size="4"&gt;HUMAN BEING.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;EVER.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Anyways. This is a letter 2 years in the making. If I had written it two years ago it probably would've been something like "Ariel, you are the love of my life. I can't believe we haven't gotten into 1 fight in the past year that I've known you. Best friends for life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well innit that interesting? I even wrote in Pettway's letter (two years ago): I've never been closer with Ariel and she's away at college.&lt;br /&gt;Strange how things change huh? I guess we can move onto the bad things first? You know, as it seems to "tickle my fancy"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways, let us see, let us see. You're a god damn workaholic. Nonstop work. Work work work. And truthfully? It pisses me the fuck off. You're basically shitting money which is awesome. But, I feel like in a sense that while you might be shitting money, you're pissing away your youth. However I could be completely wrong because I'm not there on the weekends and I don't know what you do. But I have to assume that you study at night and work during the day - with breaks for food. The only reasons I really care is because:&lt;br /&gt;A. I want to start our damn business together!&lt;br /&gt;B. I don't want you to die without ever experiencing life (aka: alcohol, sex, and drugs - none of which you are allowed to try - ESPECIALLY sex).&lt;br /&gt;C. I miss you!&lt;br /&gt;And the fact that we've gotten so distant sucks monkey balls. Huge, sweaty, hairy, smelly, filthy monkey balls. I guess people who go to college really do lose touch. I mean, partially my fault for dating a boy and not telling you. But, hey we're all human right? You definitely had sex and didn't tell me. That's almost equally as bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets move onto the good stuff. Even though I never see you and we barely talk, when we do it's pretty obvious that the Ariel I know and love is still in there. Your artwork is freaking incredible still and much much much better than mine. I wish you had more time to do art just for pleasure. And this weekend when I finally was able to visit you (after like... a year of trying) it was so much fun. I loved cuddling with your hot bod and being able to work (but not really) on a computer project with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as much as I hate that you work constantly, I really am more-so impressed at how successful you are. Like, honestly, this is shit that you're doing ON THE SIDE of what your major is and you are so great and have so many connections it's like... barf worthy. I miss our 1-on-1 days where you would come over with your laptop so we could "work" on shit but instead we just go for walks around my neighborhood and eat matzo ball soup and somehow manage to make that last the whole 5 hours you were over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I'm secretly hoping we can get a semblance of what we were back - because I think it would be flippin' awesome. So I'm just waiting for the day you stop working like a damn slave and start relaxing a little bit more. It's very laissez faire of me but I figure, you cannot be busy for the rest of your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to hoping! &lt;333 Ariel &lt;333&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2815784238064497376?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2815784238064497376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2815784238064497376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2815784238064497376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2815784238064497376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-beloved.html' title='My Beloved'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-971757008688110078</id><published>2007-11-12T20:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:15.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's November!</title><content type='html'>I've developed a weird fetish for checking out books at the library. I keep getting more and more and I keep reading them. My recent venture ended up with books on digital arts, Grimm fairy tales, Celtic legends, and supernatural occurrences. I intend on reading them. But we'll see how that goes.I miss my theatre people quite a lot. It's weird, but I do. I miss rehearsals and staying late after school and being stressed about shit that, in the end, doesn't matter.I'll be coming home for Thanksgiving. I hope I get to see some people. I miss Dewy. Thanksgiving dinner is gonna be a blast. And there's going to be lots of food, love, and music. Gentle music. If anyone wants to make a mix - let me know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-971757008688110078?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/971757008688110078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=971757008688110078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/971757008688110078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/971757008688110078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/11/it-november.html' title='It&amp;#39;s November!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2177200620397792047</id><published>2007-10-15T14:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:14.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Professor Varanasi</title><content type='html'>Midterms are stupid. Why do they even call them midterms... I think it's to create a united fear among the students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, going along with the fact that I don't want to write about any drama - not that there is any, actually - but, here's a nice little story for everyone. And by everyone I clearly mean the no one that reads this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have this class: ATM 102, aka, Weather and Climate. It's basically a DEC requirement, a science that I thought would be fun to take. I get to class with no one to sit with. Luckily, my friend Laura Cooper is there. Her and Jessica Weinstein which was the most random thing ever. Anyways, to get to the point, my professor is (for lack of a better term) a fucking lunatic. He has the thickest, most awful, terrible, strong, atrocious accent I have ever heard any human possess. It's a mix between Indian and Hawaiian. It's at the point such that you can only understand every other word. And by that point you're just to fucked up in the head to listen. Honestly, going to this class is like being addicted to cigarettes. You &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;know&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; it's going to hurt you, you &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;know&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; each puff/class is just making it worse and worse... but you can't help it. You still go. So last week, after 6 weeks of learning nothing because this guy doesn't know how to write on the blackboard, use PowerPoint, or USE Blackboard... a kid raises his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this kid clearly had an objective to stir trouble. He raises his hand 2 classes before the "midterm," and says "Why are you telling us this now? You should have been doing this since class started." Now the class split into two. One half of the students raised their hands and bashed the professor. The other half of the class started yelling at the kids who were making fun of the professor - as they had sympathy for someone who couldn't speak English. The professor then ends the conversation with "The way I teach my class is I come to the lecture completely unprepared. That's the way I teach. I don't think of the lecture until I get here, I just get up here and speak." I didn't know how to react to that statement. By the time I started listening again, the professor randomly broke out into some tribal, Indian, Hindi language song and was singing in front of the whole class for 5 minutes. I luckily had my computer on and ready and I recorded what he sang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this point I couldn't believe that he just wasted 5 minutes singing instead of preparing us or telling us what was on the midterm. So I sent a letter to the Department and they're looking into it. But... my god, when he sang that song. I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed real hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't believe me? &lt;a href="http://www.aadesignsonline.com/Are%20You%20Kidding%20Me.mp3"&gt;Listen&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2177200620397792047?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2177200620397792047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2177200620397792047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2177200620397792047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2177200620397792047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/10/professor-varanasi.html' title='Professor Varanasi'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4861660870163631727</id><published>2007-10-08T13:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:13.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>October</title><content type='html'>I miss Knoctober Fest. Boy were the times simple back then. I don't really think I appreciated the simplicity of high school, and now that I'm in college I wish I had. Of course, college kicks high school's ass. It was just simpler - easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smoked hookah this past weekend. Jeez was it fun. I probably won't do it again - but it was fun. I also realized I have only gotten drunk 1 time since I started college. While that fact may have upset me if I told my self 3 years ago - today I'm kind of happy with that. Because I've been having fun sans alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I &lt;b&gt;did&lt;/b&gt; happen to get drunk at my cousins engagement party. But hey - that's the punishment for your father when he says you can't have a Mike Hard Lemonade because your only 18... you have 5 instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Petty and Jojo. They are the two most horrible human beings ever created and they are literally pure evil. When I talk to them I can feel their dark pit of devilry trying to consume me. But, yeah, I miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I carved pumpkins this weekend. I carved myself. Ali carved herself. Tommy made food out of everything we did. So, all is right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Stupid Party is coming up in a few weeks. Boy am I looking forward to that sad excuse to get drunk. But then I have a fun-filled day planned by me, Josh, and Greg. It's gonna be epic, my friends. Thanks for reading, drop by a comment if you'd like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I miss Dewy as well. Dewy if you are reading this, please start existing more. You need to visit me at Stony Brook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4861660870163631727?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4861660870163631727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4861660870163631727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4861660870163631727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4861660870163631727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/10/october.html' title='October'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1177553790634627531</id><published>2007-10-01T17:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:11.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never</title><content type='html'>"I don't think you would touch any of them sexually with a 10 foot pole wrapped in condoms and antibacterial lotion."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1177553790634627531?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1177553790634627531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1177553790634627531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1177553790634627531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1177553790634627531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/10/never.html' title='Never'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4430058365122356462</id><published>2007-08-13T17:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:19:00.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perseid Meteor Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(128, 0, 0);"&gt;Trot, trot, trot, trot &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;goes the &lt;font size="4" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;giant &lt;/font&gt;bug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The Perseid Meteor shower was effing thrilling. Swish, swish, across the sky. 60 a minute supposedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOOM. One huge one shot off across the sky. Someone screams. This one is huge. And bright. Oh, so &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;BRIGHT&lt;/span&gt;. And then it exploded into nothing. That was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marissa likes to make stories. I thought it was a deer that was trotting our way. Marissa thought it was a giant bug, sitting on a lounge chair while smoking a cigarette. Then the face of the bug got lit up by the cigarette. The &lt;font size="4" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;giant &lt;/font&gt;bug then sees our faces, hops onto the nearest deer, and stammers away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="1" style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was &lt;span style="text-decoration: line-through;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 0);"&gt;probably &lt;/span&gt;just a car about to roll over our heads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4430058365122356462?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4430058365122356462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4430058365122356462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4430058365122356462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4430058365122356462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/08/perseid-meteor-shower.html' title='Perseid Meteor Shower'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3230101529160558494</id><published>2007-08-11T01:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:59.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny</title><content type='html'>"What did I just say?"&lt;br /&gt;"I hate it when you fuckin' say that. You're not my fucking mother."&lt;br /&gt;"What a &lt;font color="#3366ff"&gt;&lt;b&gt;mean&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/font&gt;thing to say. I would NEVER say that to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#ff0000"&gt;&lt;i&gt;::laughs decently hard::&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/font&gt;"My mom always says that to me. She goes: 'Always remember who brought you into this cruel, cruel world'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#ff0000"&gt;&lt;i&gt;::laughs harder:: &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;"Your mom's so funny."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving for school in 3 weeks. I've decided to change the way I update my journal. Instead of making semi-long passages about the events of my life I will be writing brief things such as "I'm leaving for school in 3 weeks," or "I've decided to change the way I update my journal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it to be more interesting to read for people so I'll include as much humor or dialogue as I can and keep the actual documentation of my life to a minimum. I hope this is a good choice and I hope I can soak up the last 3 weeks (from today, Saturday) that I have left with the people that mean the most to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maddi, Ali, Tommy, Dewy, Marissa, Petty, Jojo, Paro, Christina&lt;/b&gt;... even  the Dunn's, Brandon, Cara, Lisa, and the Little Shop cast (specifically Kimi, Aurielle, and Gina).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However one thing is certain. I hardcore miss my old friends and the stuff we used to do which rarely included alcohol and booze (which now we, apparently need, to have fun). I realized that bitching and being upset is doing nothing (I'm quite the smart one, aren't I?) and even though I will probably fail hard core, planning get togethers and parties with those bold people above can't really do much more damage to my life than it already has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I propose a few things for these last few weeks: dance party (with &lt;font color="#ffcc00"&gt;&lt;b&gt;fog&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;... yes, &lt;font color="#ff6600"&gt;F-O-G&lt;/font&gt;), beach, and ice skating/regular skating. And maybe even a few &lt;font size="3" color="#00ff00"&gt;O U T D O O R  G A M E S. &lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" color="#00ff00"&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;You know... &lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;strike&gt;innocent&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/font&gt; fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;Isn't it ironic that the bad stuff used to be fun.&lt;br /&gt;And now the &lt;strike&gt;innocent&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;b&gt;LEGAL &lt;/b&gt;stuff is all that holds my interest.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3230101529160558494?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3230101529160558494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3230101529160558494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3230101529160558494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3230101529160558494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/08/funny.html' title='Funny'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-971798020895908963</id><published>2007-07-30T14:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:59.439-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Gon' Be August</title><content type='html'>I said to myself that I should update before it turns into August so that I at least got more than 2 posts in the month of July. Anyways, I am not really quite sure what to say, or what anyone else really wants to hear.Dewy has a boyfriend. &lt;b&gt;That's&lt;/b&gt; big news. But other than that, nothing incredibly significant has happened to me in the past few weeks. I started watching Ugly Betty. That's a really awesome show. I'm gonna be caught up before season 2 starts which is a plus because that show is really amazing.I don't go to the beach anymore. Ever. It's really upsetting especially because I paid $30 for half of Tommy's pass to the beach. The last time I went was last Sunday with my family. And the time before that I can't even remember. I want to go to the beach more.Oh, and this summer turn a change from potentially really awesome to crappy. See ya later.P.S. IHOP tastes like toe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-971798020895908963?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/971798020895908963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=971798020895908963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/971798020895908963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/971798020895908963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-gon-be-august.html' title='It&amp;#39;s Gon&amp;#39; Be August'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-824492968293236716</id><published>2007-07-19T16:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:57.898-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything's All New</title><content type='html'>Well I got my new laptop and I think I am falling in love all over again. I love the screen, the portability... everything down to the click of the buttons. I know it sounds ridiculous but new electronics... new toys... make me so freaking happy. The feeling I get when I get a new electronic is one of pure love - nothing can top it. Except sex. Sex can top it.And raping Pettway.Tonight I'm going to see Vanessa Carlton which is really random but I do tend to like concerts as long as I'm not being shoved up against the railing as my spine is slowly cracked into two while I lose consciousness is the most painful way imaginable. There's sweat involved, too. I'm going with Tommy, Marissa, and Josh... which is random but should be fun.OK Tommy, Marissa, and Maddi just got here so I'm gonna post before they walk in.Oh. A moment in my life that needs to be stated - my AC is broken. That's the most miserable thing that's ever happened to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-824492968293236716?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/824492968293236716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=824492968293236716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/824492968293236716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/824492968293236716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/everything-all-new.html' title='Everything&amp;#39;s All New'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4611213526923384970</id><published>2007-07-18T14:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:57.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Writer's Block: By Any Other Name</title><content type='html'>If you could rename yourself in real life, what would you choose, and why?I'd probably choose something stupid like Rowanada or Shakisha. Some black woman's name or something just so I could finally make the full transition into become a middle-aged African American woman. I mean, some people might not understand this desire and &lt;b&gt;THAT'S OKAY&lt;/b&gt;. It really is alright. However, I'm afraid the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wants Dewy and Petty together in a threesome. To get them I'm gonna have to be a Black woman. The name is the starting line, the first step in a long line of steps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4611213526923384970?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4611213526923384970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4611213526923384970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4611213526923384970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4611213526923384970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/writer-block-by-any-other-name.html' title='Writer&amp;#39;s Block: By Any Other Name'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-9141765413429587324</id><published>2007-07-15T01:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:56.949-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img228.imageshack.us/img228/1460/boringyetfunday06vu7.jpg"&gt;SO hott.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-9141765413429587324?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/9141765413429587324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=9141765413429587324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/9141765413429587324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/9141765413429587324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/beautiful.html' title='Beautiful'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8601507254608625381</id><published>2007-07-13T21:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:56.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Petty Is God</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img392.imageshack.us/img392/8127/sorlandohi1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Solange Knowles (Beyonce's sister) and Orlando Jones are the SAME PERSON - as pointed out by Pettway.&lt;center&gt;&lt;h1&gt;SORLANDOOOOOO&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8601507254608625381?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8601507254608625381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8601507254608625381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8601507254608625381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8601507254608625381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/petty-is-god.html' title='Petty Is God'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7333976714670325968</id><published>2007-07-05T01:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:55.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'>July 2007</title><content type='html'>OK so I need to document this part of my Fourth of July in the year 2007 so that I can remember it for as long as I live and put it down in my past as one the best memories I've ever had.So me, Maddi, Marissa, Dewy, and Tommy are about to go to Jones Beach when we find out that the fireworks at that beach are canceled for the night. So instead, we sit down and play Cranium and start watching TV. Upon sitting on Tommy's couch we hear loud booming and we look out the window, and all 5 of us run out of Tommy's house into his street. When we can't find the fireworks, Maddi, Marissa, and I start running wildly down his street. Followed by Tommy and Dewy in Tommy's car 30 seconds later, we jump into his car and set off on DPA to find fireworks to watch.Eventually we find this block party that is shoot off impressive fireworks. So Tommy parks his car outside of the block party and we sit in the car and start watching. Maddi asks if anyone wants to step by the barricade at the end of the street and watch with her. I say yes, and the two of us jump out of the car. Once we get to the blocked part of the street, I keep walking and before we know it, Maddi and I are standing amidst the group of neighbors, looking directly up at the fireworks. THAT was awesome.10 minutes later Maddi suggests we walk back to the car because we didn't wait for them we just jumped out of the car and set off into the street. As we're walking back we keep turning around and staring at the fireworks some more because they were really quite good.A girl then comes up to me and taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and there are 2 of them. One of them short and attractive, the other one semi-tall (and slightly geeky). She goes "Excuse me, what's your name?" And the first thing that runs through my mind is "&lt;i&gt;Shit! They know we don't live on this block! Be cool...&lt;/i&gt;" But I say "Andrew," anyways. She says, "My friend over there thinks you're really cute and she wants you to hold her hand." Immediately after this the two girls grab me and drag me over to their ground of friends and introduce me to the girl, that I BELIEVE was called Melissa. I introduced myself, asked them where they went to school, etc. and then the little attractive one (whom I discovered was titled Gina) says "Can you hold her hand and kiss her?" Immediately I go "Errrr." And then Maddi (after what seemed like years) comes over.You know that feeling where you just KNOW what someone else is thinking or feeling? Or that moment where you just KNOW what the other person is going to say. You don't know how or why... but you know? Well Maddi put her hand on my shoulder and the other 3 or 4 girls look at me and I go "Guys... this is my girlfriend... Maddi." And Maddi puts her arms around me and goes "Hi guys." Mind you, at this point, I am one word away from putting up the white flag and just cracking up. The 2 girls who came over to us before were like "OH. MY. GOD. I am &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; sorry! OK. OK. You two should go hook up under the fireworks light." And Maddi goes "Maybe a little later." And the girls give their farewells and depart.Me and Maddi IMMEDIATELY sprint back to the car HYSTERICALLY laughing (and I was partially traumatized for life). We then danced outrageously in the car on the way home.For what was &lt;b&gt;going&lt;/b&gt; to be a really shitty 4th of July was FREAKING incredible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7333976714670325968?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7333976714670325968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7333976714670325968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7333976714670325968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7333976714670325968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/07/july-2007.html' title='July 2007'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-762077418697515425</id><published>2007-06-29T03:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:55.097-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer List</title><content type='html'>OK here is my summer list of stuff I need to do with people. I want whoever reads this to respond and comment if they want to do any of it with me or if they are interested in pursuing that with me.1. Another full day at Splish Splash.2. Beach day from sunrise 'til sunset - a day where there are waves.    A. Someone willing to chip in with me to buy a really good cooler for the beach this summer.3. Go to see a Broadway show.4. Go to see the new Mystical Exhibit at the Museum of Natural History (or formerly known as the Natural Museum of History).5. Upstate or somewhere we can lay out and see the actual stars.6. Stony Brook campus visit day.7. Harry Potter movie marathon day.8. Harry Potter book party at Barnes And Nobles (July 20th).9. Family Guy marathon.10. Desperate Housewives marathon.11. Jazz Club - somehow - someway.12. Tanger Outlets shopping day.13. Art day where whoever comes does stupid immature arts and crafts shit like beads and face/finger painting.14. Cooking day where we actually cook something OTHER than cakes and cookies (but can still be desserts).15. Fruity drink day where we find out good recipes and make really good mixed drinks and get very toasted.16. End of the summer party either at somebody's house or we rent out a suite in a hotel.And that's it! Tell me if anyone wants to take part in that or any other suggestions you have!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-762077418697515425?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/762077418697515425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=762077418697515425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/762077418697515425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/762077418697515425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/06/summer-list.html' title='Summer List'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1967328257389983444</id><published>2007-06-14T14:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:54.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Wow</title><content type='html'>So I had this long talk with Ali, right? Because - Ali is God. That's Ali Sundermier. Not that Ali Alfisi isn't God as well. But for all intensive purposes, Ali Sundermier is God. Anyways - she worked me through some issues because all of my other friends have become quite bad at helping people through their problems. Not that it's your guys' fault... that's just the way it's become. I'm probably bad at it as well. But anyways - Ali rocks for that. And then I went to the mall with Josh, Greg, Ali, Dewy, Tommy... and Abby. Something that stirred up old memories of when I used to go with Maddi and Danny and Abby to the Walt Whitman Mall that didn't suck and it was kind of cool I guess. But that's a crowd I could never really hang out with. Not that Josh and Greg aren't cool people. But everything they talk about is just a little too... homosexual. Which is a fine choice of topic - it just doesn't really mesh with me when the biggest thing I want to discuss is the concept of Ratatouille. But it was still fun. I wish I was able to eat my Arby's. That would've been a big plus.Then we went to 2686. That was surprisingly a lot of fun. Janene is a fucking crazy monster - UPenn made her SO much interesting. But the girl I went to prom with is not the same girl I now know. Tommy, Dewy, and Petty are the best circle ever. Oh and Cassie. Can't forget Cassie with her classic, unbelievably stunning moves. Quite incredible and hilarious. There was a period where they played a streak of TERRIBLE music. But... I'm over it.In conclusion - I hope this summer is good and I'm looking forward to going to college - oh and I have a roommate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1967328257389983444?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1967328257389983444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1967328257389983444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1967328257389983444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1967328257389983444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/06/oh-wow.html' title='Oh Wow'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-355169132643228783</id><published>2007-06-02T14:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:54.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Take A Walk With Me</title><content type='html'>So I'm in this really strange mood lately where I am possibly the happiest I've ever been but also extremely depressed at times. I think Maddi rubbed off on me and lately I need something to do or someone with me at all times or I get depressed.My birthday festivities are over and I really had way too much fun this year. Marissa rocks for showing up at my house at 11:58 to drive me around blasting "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays" and bopping around with me at the stroke of midnight. And Petty, Tommy, Ali, Dewy, Amparo, Ariel (to an extent), rock for spending the day with me. My party was entertaining and I have some highly confusing pictures.My friend situation is changing drastically and it's hard to know how I'm going to feel about it. I'm actually becoming really close with Petty, Dewy, Maddi, and Ali. Not that we all weren't ever close but, normally my friend situation is Tommy and that's it. I didn't realize how much I missed all my other friends.Ali's a really good poet. Everyone should hold her at gunpoint and get her to write one for them. Marissa and I have the same taste in music and it's creepy.Lastly, I don't ever go to school anymore. I went one time last week. And my dad has no idea. Graduation is this month. I'm quite unexcited. Oh, and my date for prom has the sexiest dress ever.I want to plan an afterprom with my friends in college - would you guys want to? Nothing expensive... just another excuse to get drunk and have fun. Maybe music would be involved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-355169132643228783?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/355169132643228783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=355169132643228783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/355169132643228783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/355169132643228783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/06/take-walk-with-me.html' title='Take A Walk With Me'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-605620817711530160</id><published>2007-05-28T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:53.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Maddi</title><content type='html'>Dear Maddi,You and Tommy just left my room - no doubt are going to be talking about me. I would like to formally apologize for ruining what could have been a lovely evening. That car ride was thrilling and I'm glad I got to experience it with you. I am sorry for freaking out but anyone who knows me knows I have a thing with tattoos - they disgust me. For Marissa when she got it on her back it was okay because I never look at her back. With you, I won't ever look at your back. But Tommy I see all the time and that it why it bugged me - especially because he lied to me about it and told me he wasn't going to get one.I think tattoos are vulgar and disgusting and permanent. I hate hate hate hate it. I'm very sorry if this upsets you and I apologize again for freaking out.&lt;3 Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-605620817711530160?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/605620817711530160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=605620817711530160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/605620817711530160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/605620817711530160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/dear-maddi.html' title='Dear Maddi'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2573254291679131102</id><published>2007-05-28T14:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:53.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All About The Fun</title><content type='html'>So there's a lot to write about and I'm going to keep it as concise as I can.Dewy rocks my life. Petty sucks but I love her want to marry her. Genie Black Music 5 is my favorite. And my college friends with the exception of Daisy and Dewy are apparently shy?Yeah... I know - my jaw dropped too. I think there was something in the fog.My birthday party was so awesome. I love, love, love, loved it. It was the only party I think I've ever had where I didn't get mad and run upstairs or out of the house. My cake was delicious and so fit for me - except my dad bought a chocolate cake with white frosting which was one of the dumbest mistakes EVER. Oh and I spent $70 on pizza which sucked. Ariel got me the best gift of the night - an iLive thing that plays my iPod and is an alarm clock which is really cool. Petty's would've owned had the light bulbs she got me actually been bright.The next day I got to go out with Maddi which was hella fun. We watched Amadeus - as in Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Pop. And it was... really good. But - for me - if a movie is long like that (::cough:: Pirates ::cough::) then it has to be thrilling all the way through. So for the last disc (like an hour or so) it was not fun for me anymore and I started to get annoyed with all the characters and kept asking Maddi when Wolfie was going to die. But the poop shoot he shot out of made everything in the world worth it. Gosh how I would hate to live in 1820. Because, you know, that's when Mozart was alive.Then we drove and stalked Tommy for like... 5 years. We had fried chicken followed by ice cream followed by tartar sauce. Mmmm. I then came home to go to sleep, but Abby had very loud people over, so I went to Blockbuster to return my movies, and then went to Tommy's for 45 minutes to finish a movie we started.Pop. Pop pop. Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop.Fuck you.Oh and I need to start going to school because I just took a 6 day weekend.My birthday is this Wednesday. If I ask you to do something it means I like you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2573254291679131102?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2573254291679131102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2573254291679131102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2573254291679131102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2573254291679131102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/it-all-about-fun.html' title='It&amp;#39;s All About The Fun'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4646731763115139259</id><published>2007-05-21T13:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:52.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Giddy Up, I'm Going To Take You For A Ride</title><content type='html'>So I finally got be reunited with a large chunk of my black people. This past weekend I hung out with Petty 4 times, Dewy 2 times, and Janene I hung out with 1 time and saw twice. And holy god damn shit. "It's like... that feeling where you forget how good sex feels because you haven't had it in so long." That's how black people are. I forgot how good they feel because I haven't done them in so long.No... but seriously.Me and Dewy were bored so we went to Friday's and emptied our wallets and filled our stomachs to the limit that we became slap happy so hard core that we started saying things like "I'm gonna projectile vomit and your head is gonna dislodge itself from your body and hit that TV over there!" And after that we finished every sentence with that phrase no matter if it belonged or not -- not that it would EVER belong unless the question "What is the dumbest thing you can say?" was asked. But in all honesty - that was like the best meal I've ever had.Then later on Petty and Tommy came over and we literally searched for videos by typing in "Fat kid" and watched a whole bunch of movies that made me, Dewy, and Pettway laugh uncontrollably and Tommy to have a hernia.Oh and the night before Dewy and Petty got completely trashed on life and Dewy fell asleep on a table and Petty ate a burger because she's a lying vegetarian.And Ali raped Tommy in the back room.I want you all to enjoy this as much as I have.&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ceNf-11-ddI" target=_blank&gt;The best one ever.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEUpzWzN3_Q" target=_blank&gt;Almost just as good.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzS-OdWVpHo" target=_blank&gt;Janice! Janice I'm stuck!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2fhV9tgewI" target=_blank&gt;Fat kids can kill you with their shrieks of terror.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4646731763115139259?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4646731763115139259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4646731763115139259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4646731763115139259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4646731763115139259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/giddy-up-i-going-to-take-you-for-ride.html' title='Giddy Up, I&amp;#39;m Going To Take You For A Ride'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-819083079557217382</id><published>2007-05-17T22:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:41.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow... Do I Win?</title><content type='html'>YOU KNOW YOU HAVE A BAD CASE OF (SECOND SEMESTER!!!) SENIORITIS WHEN...1. &lt;b&gt;... you check your facebook more than three times a day and don't start your homework till 10 pm...or 12 am...or don't even do it at all.&lt;/b&gt;2. &lt;b&gt;...you would fight for a cure for Senioritis...if you just weren't so lazy.&lt;/b&gt;3. ..."I'll do it before I graduate" becomes "I'll do it the night before I graduate".4. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;...you actually find yourself doing a math problem to figure out how low of a grade you can get on your finals and still pass a class.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;5. &lt;b&gt;...you think to yourself "Why am I still here?" more than four times a day, quite possibly up to three times a period.&lt;/b&gt;6. ...you have just gotten into your top college and are sooo ready to celebrate it.7. ...you can tell someone the recap of every tv show on every channel from any given night of the week.8. &lt;b&gt;...you figure as long as you get a decent grade in your classes there's no sense in doing extra credit or work.&lt;/b&gt;9. ...you're often seen in the hallway with marks on your face from falling asleep on your desk. Again.10. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;...you don't even waste energy arguing with the people you disagree with anymore since you're gonna be leaving soon anyway.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;11. ...you find yourself trying to talk all your teachers into blowing off class and watching a movie instead.12. ...you have memorized every poster, painting, and decoration in each of your classroom's walls.13. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;...you think senior priviledges of sleeping in means sleeping in...the entire day.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;14. ...your schedule is so easy it's not even funny.15. &lt;b&gt;...you will make up any excuse to do anything slightly fun and off the wall just to make the day a little more interesting.&lt;/b&gt;16. &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;...you suddenly feel like boycotting, protesting on, and flat out bitching about every single rule and regulation at school.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; 17. ...someone says to you,"It's Wednesday night, why are you out???" and you say "Because I'm a Senior, thats why!"18. &lt;b&gt;...you should be doing something else right now rather than reading about a facebook group.&lt;/b&gt;Do I win?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-819083079557217382?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/819083079557217382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=819083079557217382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/819083079557217382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/819083079557217382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/wow-do-i-win.html' title='Wow... Do I Win?'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5322163260597508507</id><published>2007-05-14T18:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:39.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat Dirt</title><content type='html'>So administration was eating their words today when they found out how much money we raised with East In Lights. They felt so stupid they actually required a picture of me, Jeremy, and the performers and an article to be submitted to the district newsletter.HA!That's awesome. But now I have to round up as many performers as I can for the picture by the end of the week. Still... yay!My birthday party is coming up. More people liked me than I anticipated and there are around 40 people coming and I haven't a clue what to do. Does anyone remember last year when I had, oh around, 8 people show up? I was happy then, but I'm even more happy now. 40 people? WTF! And when I went through the list to see who is coming that I wouldn't mind if they didn't show up... and I really couldn't clear out one person.Back to the note of East In Lights... I seriously don't think even Little Shop gave me the thrill I got from putting on this show. I was so nervous and scared but it's like an indescribable feeling how good it feels when you see an entire audience get up and start dancing to a song being performed - and this is an audience of around 200 - 250. Yeah, that's right bitches - 250! The show put me in this mood... that like I'm indestructively happy and I LOVE it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5322163260597508507?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5322163260597508507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5322163260597508507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5322163260597508507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5322163260597508507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/eat-dirt.html' title='Eat Dirt'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4059998873144037256</id><published>2007-05-07T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:38.601-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God DAMN Drunk Drivers</title><content type='html'>I knew. I &lt;b&gt;KNEW&lt;/b&gt; when I woke up today, today was not going to be a good day. I got into the car and it was this horrible, groggy feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. I felt like either something bad was going to happen on a grand scale or something way just going to go wrong with my day.The first thing that happens when I get to school is I find out that my favorite hall monitor, "Melanie Minervini" was killed in a drunk driving accident. She was driving on her way to monitor for the SAT's and on Conklin Avenue by Dewy's house - she was hit head on with the other idiot who now is charged and arrested for manslaughter. For those of you who don't know who I'm talking about - she's the hall monitor who looked a little like a cabbage patch doll - she had the really pudgy cheeks and she would always be knitting or reading by the art wing.Then throughout the day just more and more shit went wrong. I found out I got a 3 on the Government paper that I &lt;i&gt;actually&lt;/i&gt; spent time writing - which is the equivalent of a 75 and those grades count 4 times each. So my quarter grades now consist of a 67, 75, 75, 75, and 75. I don't understand why I got it but it does have something to do with the fact that Zaiff hates me with a fucking passion and he still has yet to learn what my name is.Then some people tried to drop out of the show and I got so upset by it but they ended up staying in. I just am so sick of this school year and I want it to be over with already. I want this show and my AP's to be done so I can just relax again and come home and sleep instead of worry about nothing getting done. Fuck everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4059998873144037256?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4059998873144037256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4059998873144037256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4059998873144037256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4059998873144037256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/god-damn-drunk-drivers.html' title='God DAMN Drunk Drivers'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1413895795052138115</id><published>2007-05-03T13:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:38.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Will I Hold You?</title><content type='html'>People I miss: &lt;b&gt;Pettway&lt;/b&gt;, Ariel, Maddi, Gina. Maybe even a little bit of Kimi but that's mostly contempt and rage and I want to punish her.Who is up for some hard freaking core sports this summer? I mean like volleyball, badminton, box ball ::cough:: 4 square ::cough::, and tackle football on the beach.As well as this I would enjoy it greatly to be at the beach at least 3 or 4 times a week.A new world calls across the ocean. All worlds suck so it doesn't really matter.All my prom plans fell through &lt;b&gt;un&lt;/b&gt;suprisingly. Now I'm stuck between whether I should just bow out ahead of time or go with Ali, sit at a table with one or two friends and 9 other random people, and plan an after prom with my actual Seniors (with my college friends) or go to a party with people from my grade. Ugh! Vomit I hate prom and frankly... I've been to 3 of them... I don't care much about this one.On a lighter note my father bought me a bucket of gummy bears and a Stony Brook sweatshirt and t-shirt. I don't like the gummy bears and the colors on the Stony Brook sweatshirt are freaking terrible. I'm not negative... really.Woot, Summer 2007!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1413895795052138115?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1413895795052138115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1413895795052138115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1413895795052138115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1413895795052138115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/when-will-i-hold-you.html' title='When Will I Hold You?'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5591019458190737253</id><published>2007-05-01T17:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:37.691-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Deal</title><content type='html'>Weekend In New England is a godly song.I've finished my songs for the show.Kimi and I aren't friends anymore - that sucks. But I want to marry Gina and/or Sami because I didn't realize how much I missed people from Little Shop until I'm around them.My birthday party is going to have to kick all ass seeing as how it's my last one and I'm going to have everyone there that has ever meant anything to me. Plus Maddi is coming which makes it 20 times better.AP's are next week. HA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5591019458190737253?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5591019458190737253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5591019458190737253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5591019458190737253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5591019458190737253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/05/sweet-deal.html' title='Sweet Deal'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2254396128776070694</id><published>2007-04-22T01:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:37.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Woah</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't updated in a while. Not like anyone really reads this anyways. But yeah.I'm not going to update about Spring Break because it's too much. All that needs to be said was that it was really freaking fun, I miss it, and I want to do it again with friends except go outside the country. Anyone else in besides the few I've asked?Other than that. I managed to scrape up an 88 GPA for this quarter which is a miracle because my absences for this quarter alone totaled 16.I got a 75 in Stat - no surprise there. Oh, and I decided officially that I'm going to go to Stony Brook. I'm not sure if I will ever transfer. I can tell I'm not going to like dorming... people keep telling me I'm going to die there - I'm not quite sure why as it doesn't really help my situation or anything but... whatever.I'm very excited for college. I'm very excited for this summer. I'm excited for prom. For graduation. For my birthday. And for East In Lights on May 11th. I feel successful. Like... I put together a show. An actual show that's going to donate a lot of money for a good cause. I feel proud in a sense.I'm rather tired. Last night, on Friday, I went to sleep at 10:00 PM and woke up Saturday at 11:30 AM. That's a lot of time. Also I got paid $350 for a vector of a cartoon. And Ariel and I have almost officially started our business. It's going to be kick ass. I'm pumped. Are you pumped?Everyone who reads this and works - make sure you request off for May 11th. The show is at 7:00 PM and you better fucking be there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2254396128776070694?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2254396128776070694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2254396128776070694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2254396128776070694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2254396128776070694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/04/woah.html' title='Woah'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-141185137016252144</id><published>2007-03-27T19:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:35.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Impending</title><content type='html'>My room is so fucking hot it is not believable. It has hit an all time low. I shouldn't be complaining because last night I was screaming that my room was so cold. Meh, what are you going to do.Myrtle Beach is approaching rather fast. 4 days. I am excited beyond words; this is going to be an amazing trip and I cannot wait. Fishing, beaching, mini golfing, alligator parks, water parks, etc... ooh! So good!And auditions for the show is this Friday. I'm excited for those as well. It's going to be a fiesta, alright. I found out today that my grades in my "booster" class - that is, it was taken to 'boost' my grades - suck. It's low 80's. Which is to say, an 81. This SUCKS. I am going to try to talk to him - but he's a fat balloon so I doubt it'll do much good.Also... I just took a 4 hour nap and it was on purpose. I can't take naps on command, so I'm rather impressed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-141185137016252144?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/141185137016252144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=141185137016252144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/141185137016252144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/141185137016252144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/impending.html' title='Impending'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-6174524750231120174</id><published>2007-03-20T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:34.529-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Time In A Long Time</title><content type='html'>Well, I stayed home from school again today. For the first time in months it was because I was sick though, so I don't feel too bad. My stomach exploded this morning in a flash of pain I don't think I've ever had to endure before. It's okay, though... I survived it. You don't have to worry.On another note, I am looking forward to Myrtle Beach to no extent and I cannot freaking wait to go. The road trip in itself is going to be fun. I have to think of things to occupy us though. I'm gonna start making some sick Myrtle Beach mixes starting today or tomorrow.And Jim accepted my first logo design... which means I'm going to get paid. I miss Maddi and I'm not sure why. Not that I'm not sure why I miss her, I'm just not sure what sparked it.Party time in Drew's world.And I'm going to stop missing school so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-6174524750231120174?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/6174524750231120174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=6174524750231120174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6174524750231120174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/6174524750231120174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-time-in-long-time.html' title='First Time In A Long Time'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-633356708115115085</id><published>2007-03-19T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:34.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me Want Theatre</title><content type='html'>I'm not sad or anything... I'm actually in a really happy mood and spot right now. I'm not failing my classes. But I'm not acing them either which is a first for me. My AP Statistics teacher called me over and told me if I didn't ace my next test I would fail for the quarter. This, as an enormous awakening call, inspired me to bring out the old study Drew and slave through the material. I aced the test and this re-emerged Drew lasted around 6 days. Now Senioritus is back full force. Whatever.Point is... I'm not sad... but I definitely miss my theatre people. Kimi has completely gone MIA in my life. And she's either really good at ignoring me or her Junior pride is starting to shine through a little too much. Gina disappeared into the crowd of unbelievably cool people I "could've" been close with. And Ashez and I are still close.Tommy's coming. Gotta run!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-633356708115115085?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/633356708115115085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=633356708115115085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/633356708115115085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/633356708115115085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/me-want-theatre.html' title='Me Want Theatre'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-941645149303250793</id><published>2007-03-18T14:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:33.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>Can I just say... that was WITHOUT A DOUBT the single &lt;b&gt;BEST&lt;/b&gt; drinking party I have EVER had. I mean... Kait and Abby aside. There was no drama. Everyone shared. Even people who refused to co-exist with one another... did. And we all fucking partied like it was 1357! Dancing, liquor, making out, games, almost plummeting to my death down a sheet of ice. What more can you possibly ask for? And there are so many pictures that I didn't even take and I don't know WHO WAS TAKING THEM!Zyrtec is my life. However illegal it may be for me to take it... at least it's not a drug drug. But I learned that there is a non-drowsy Benadryll. What? I also believe I got a little too rambunctious. Hooking up while I'm drunk? That's something I haven't done in a very, very, very long time.In conclusion, this weekend wasn't a total bust. And St. Patrick's Day 2007 was amazing.&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img365.imageshack.us/img365/2144/sday021wu2.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-941645149303250793?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/941645149303250793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=941645149303250793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/941645149303250793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/941645149303250793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4166191174627900049</id><published>2007-03-17T16:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:32.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hush Little Fucker, Don't Say A Word</title><content type='html'>So we have this beautiful week of high temperatures and good [yet sometimes bad] things happening... and then Friday comes and we have a freak snow storm. Which, of course, means that my auditions are canceled and that my party had to be canceled. Actually the first time I tried to cancel my party I was yelled at because, you know, theatre people are absolutely ridiculously insane. I was like no party, and they were like "WHAT?! NO!!! YOU HAVE TO!" And I simply said that I thought people would be happy I didn't want them plummeting to their deaths.Eventually Tommy got out of Friday and came here. And for some reason, instead of pulling along the side of the house, he tried to get into my driveway which had piled up feet of snow and crashed. We spent a good 30 - 45 minutes shoveling out his car which had somehow gotten stuck in an igloo of snow and ice. Good job, Tommy.I'm reschedule my party and the auditions. But there are far too many people signed up for this show now, that we actually do have to turn down some acts. That blows. But yay for the show actually working.I'm going to feng shui today. I also want to dye my hair black, at least temporarily. Then I'm going to see 300, and waste ten dollars. And then I'm going to celebrate St. Patrick's Day by drinking. Even though I don't want to drink today.Life isn't going good, but I'm doing the best I can to make it good. Some guy hired me to do some more art for him. Myrtle Beach and Florida are coming this and next week. That's gonna be a party. Time to party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4166191174627900049?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4166191174627900049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4166191174627900049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4166191174627900049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4166191174627900049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/hush-little-fucker-don-say-word.html' title='Hush Little Fucker, Don&amp;#39;t Say A Word'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2758745375558921344</id><published>2007-03-10T14:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:31.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Interim</title><content type='html'>I just got my third quarter interim and it says right next to AP Statistics: "Is currently failing. Excessive absences."Two years ago comment like that would've made my heart sink and burst into flames. Never did I expect to welcome it with a fit of laughter.Go Senioritus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2758745375558921344?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2758745375558921344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2758745375558921344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2758745375558921344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2758745375558921344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/interim.html' title='Interim'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1397419338372895600</id><published>2007-03-06T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:30.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Horror Flick</title><content type='html'>Moulin Rouge easily my favorite movie of my entire life. I'm buying it on DVD. I don't EVER buy DVD's.On another note. Jack Nicholson, Bruce Willis, and Sean Connery would be the scariest movie in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1397419338372895600?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1397419338372895600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1397419338372895600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1397419338372895600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1397419338372895600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/horror-flick.html' title='Horror Flick'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5984343459108196934</id><published>2007-03-04T01:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:29.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh Fun</title><content type='html'>I got to see Lisa 5 weekends in a row now. For only getting to see her once or twice every school year... you have no idea how impressive that is. And somehow, unimaginably... we still maintain the ability to make each other laugh harder than anyone else has ever been able to. I mean full out, hard core, laughing fits where my stomach legitimately pains afterward and I have tears dripping down my entire face over stupid shit like me coming up with a bullshit reason why people die if an air bubble is injected into their veins (though I must say I bullshitted it quite well).I'm currently failing AP Statistics with a GPA of 59. If anyone could help me with that one... it'd be great. I got into all my colleges except Syracuse (which I still have to hear from, but don't think I'll be getting into), and I got a 10,000 ["presidential"] dollar scholarship to RIT. But I think I still want to go to Stony Brook for many reasons. But I can barely handle the cold on Long Island, so Rochester would be like a nightmare for me.Maddi came home today. Absolutely AMAZING as usual. I like getting her in small doses because it keeps things very fresh and interesting. But she's coming home for a week and I'm going to make a movie with her. I played Worms for the first time in over 4 or 5 years. I sat with the three different discs for 20 minutes trying to decide which one was the one to install because I couldn't remember. Then we went bowling which is, in the present time, apparently not something you do for leisure unless you have $22 laying around. There's gotta be a run down bowling alley SOMEWHERE on Long Island. If I ever get rich... I'm coming back to my hometown, buying a house, and opening a movie theater and a bowling alley where everything costs $5. You just wait.I love Gina and her entries. On that note, not only has 15 people signed up SO FAR for my show... but I'm have my Little Shop make-up cast party on March 16th. It's going to be a BLAST. Can you say fog machine?&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="+4"&gt;F-O-G M-A-C-H-I-N-E!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5984343459108196934?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5984343459108196934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5984343459108196934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5984343459108196934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5984343459108196934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/03/ahh-fun.html' title='Ahh Fun'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4637506849574716257</id><published>2007-02-18T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:18:28.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Impending Death</title><content type='html'>I was shoveling snow this morning and I hurt my arm. And now I'm convinced it's some kind of cancerous tumor in my arm. And my nose itches.So I'm about to head to a party but... I had this dream before that this newfound irksome feeling in my gut is just fate's way of telling me I'm going to die.So... if I do die... I just wanted to tell you all that I love you and thanks for reading all these years. And at my funeral, please have a choir that sings a lot of harmonies and such. And I want an open casket laced with gold and gummy bears.Also, I'd like to give a shout out to Maddi and Gina... who are always on my mind.P.S. I hope I don't die. LATER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4637506849574716257?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4637506849574716257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4637506849574716257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4637506849574716257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4637506849574716257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2007/02/impending-death.html' title='Impending Death'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8854511801658473759</id><published>2004-06-15T16:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:35.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...what?</title><content type='html'>What, the fuck, HAPPENED to us this year? I was talking to Amanda and it just hit me. &lt;b&gt;What in GOD'S name.&lt;/b&gt; How the fuck did we get here?! This year is like a blur. It took a century yet it went so fast. Honestly, where did people go wrong? When did Angela fuck things up for herself? When did Lisa become such a... single... person? It wasn't when her and Nelson broke up... Where did ALLIE's fun independent personality go? Why'd she change so much? How did Amanda become so... predictable? Why did Maddi turn so depressed? When did Corie come back into my life? Where the FUCK did Mia come from? Where did Lyndsey go? It's confusing the shit out of me. All this happened in only 10 months? Everyone's changed more than high school is supposed to make you. It's disturbing me greatly. How did I get... like this? People told me I didn't really change... but... I had to. School shouldn't do that to people. 3 more years of this... I'm not gunna have many more friends am I? I want people to just go back to how they were and come back if we aren't friends anymore. I hate high school.The moral? Ali Alfisi is the only person who hasn't changed one bit. She's still fun, different, and overall the best person to be around. Of course, she hasn't come to high school yet so...Don't get me wrong, these people are still my best friends... it's just... different people.Now the survey... cuz... well... everyone's doing it.&lt;table style="font-size:10px;background-color:white;color:black;border:1px solid black;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Firsts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First kiss:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;The sad thing... I DON'T REMEMBER! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First state you lived in:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;NY? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First boy/girl you liked:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Rachael Warshaw &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First boy/girl you loved:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey Marshall &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First book you couldn't put down:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Harry Potter (YEP! All of 'em!) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First friend you couldn't wait to see:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali Alfisi &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First IM of the day:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Usually Maddi or Mia &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First SN:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;kursh57 &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First email:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;pika89@yahoo.com &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First online journal:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Something at UJournal &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First band you loved:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sugarcult, man! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First poster you bought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Britney Spears &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First band member you obsessed about:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amy Lee (Evanescence) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First song you loved of your current favorite band:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;I don't think I have a favorite band... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lasts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last kiss:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Shut the fuck up. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last hug:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Dewy? Maybe Petty. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last word said:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Bye - to Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last book read (all the way):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Harry Potter - 5! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last IM:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last person IMed:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last online journal entry:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Today -- June 15th &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last TV show seen:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Charmed &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last commercial seen:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;I'm not THAT... dorky? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last person you spoke to:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Brett &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last CD bought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;CAMP! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last song heard:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Poetry? Maybe Date Rape actually... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last thought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Why doesn't Amanda or Allie invite me places? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last word heard:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;AH! (Does that count?) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current song listening to/singing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Nothing &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current website you're surfing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;BZOINK? Retards... who makes this shit up? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current book you're reading:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Cradle and All &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current friend you're talking to:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current rant:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Why does Allie only use me for rides and the beach! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current rave:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;In Dix Hills? Whatever is most expensive. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current obsession:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Obsession-free at the moment &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current love of your life:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;BLANK  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current hair color:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Brown/Black/Blonde/Orange/Red; Ali... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current thought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;I remember when she dyed my hair. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current font you love:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Tahoma? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current shoe you're wearing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;The infamous SOCK-SHOE! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current hair style:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Spiked... at the moment? Un-gelled. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Current person you hate:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Angela maybe. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8854511801658473759?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8854511801658473759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8854511801658473759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8854511801658473759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8854511801658473759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/what.html' title='...what?'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-842325164366607148</id><published>2004-06-14T17:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:34.977-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finals Begin!</title><content type='html'>Today was fucking amazing. I went to take the two finals and I passed the first one with flying colors. The other one I failed completely and miserably. French and Italian had to write two entries with 50 words a piece. Spanish had to write two entries with 75 words each. The reason? I don't understand how the fuck in NY State, that seems fair. They always have these fucked up rules that make sense to them but makes no sense to anyone. (EX: Earth Science Regents, we have to sign a declaration that says we won't cheat. If you're one of those cheaters, would you REALLY &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; sign it?) Anyways, I came home. Me and Dewy got into a mini arugment that solved itself out in 30 seconds. Then I went to McDonalds with Ali and shoved all the food down. Then I went back to her house and saw her new room. HOLY SHIT. It was FREAKIN' &lt;b&gt;AMAZING&lt;/b&gt;. I was in AWE! She has a room, in her old garage, 2 levels, with stairs, and it painted Gryffindor colors. It was so cool my jaw was open. I went in and out so many times. I am SO jealous. But it helped me to decide that I'm keeping my room when Brett leaves. When it comes down to it, for 3 years of my life, size is going to be more important than location. So I came to the decision. I am really happy about it. I'm gunna do so much shit to my room. Madd excited til' Jeremy gets his ass outta here. Then I came home after Ali got me hooked on Incubus and Sublime. Amazing bands. I tried to like Radiohead but it didn't work. Then I came home and listened to music and I was being the dumbass I was and I was typing to as many people as I can about what I really think. So I IM'd BLANK and asked BLANK why BLANK was going out with BLANK. And I don't know I still feel that way. It's like we know that we want each other and there isn't anything standing in our way but yet we still aren't doing anything about it. Well that's teenagers for you.In other news... Iren is going to pay for her bitchiness. I've gotten 8 nannies to quit... I can take care of one annoying bastard. She tells my dad I was listening to her phone calls and I get into trouble. Only... she speaks Hebrew to her friends... so I can't really comprehend why I would listen to her. Oh well, her mistake. She made the mistake of thinkin' she can tell me what to do... HEH. &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;DAMN&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; is she going down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-842325164366607148?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/842325164366607148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=842325164366607148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/842325164366607148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/842325164366607148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/finals-begin.html' title='Finals Begin!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4698531289180236823</id><published>2004-06-12T13:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:25.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The REAL entry...</title><content type='html'>OK. I'm updating. Weirdness. Yesterday was the last day of school. It doesn't feel over. Just like everyone else is saying. Now the question really becomes: are we happy it ended? Or are we pissed off and want it to go back? I really can't decide. I mean, I had the shittiest teachers this year that didn't know crap. So they're over. But then I loved the people I had in my classes. Doug and Paro are going to college. Jeremy's going to college. I don't think any of us have really embraced the fact that he's going away and it's not like our childhood anymore. He's leaving and I don't really know if I care, or if I'm like woot woot! He's finally gone! Then there's the decision of getting Jeremy's room or not. I mean, 100% I'll beat out Abby's excuse for her to have the room. And even my mom is on the side. See, Abby's had her own room for a while now. A long while. I've had to stay in this room since I was 3 years old, and I've had to share it all my life. That's right. I've stayed in this same room my entire life, and not once have I ever had my own room. The problem becomes the space. There is A LOT more space in this room than in the other room. But the other room has it's own mini hallway and it's own door leading outside. But if I take that room then I can't buy my queen sized bed. And I probably won't even be able to fit my recliner in there. And if it comes down to that, that chair is my life and I'll never give it up ever. Back to school. I'm going to miss my friends. I watched my screensaver and it was really "sentimental" as Lisa put it. I already miss my friends and it's not like they're GOING anywhere, it's just that with each year or summer I lose touch with some of them and then in the following year I either becomes best friends with them or we just don't talk anymore. I already have in mind who I'm going to forget. And it seemed like a fuckin' century ago that I was in Middle School, that I was with Lyndsey, that I saved Allie from her camp. It's very strange... but change is what has to happen and it sucks... A LOT. I hope it dies. I'm going to kill it. And that's when I fell asleep.Ladies and other people, that was my stream of consciousness from last night when I finally hit the pillow.Now... COMMENT PLEASE on which room you think I would take, or that you would take. It's becoming and issue. Just a little thing that I can't get off my mind. I constantly find myself in there trying to decide where I could put my furniture, if it would fit, etc.JUST MAKE ONE... SMALL... COMMENT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4698531289180236823?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4698531289180236823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4698531289180236823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4698531289180236823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4698531289180236823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/real-entry.html' title='The REAL entry...'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2236715605632766724</id><published>2004-06-11T23:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:14.837-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter Marauder</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.behindthemasks.com/dawnatello/harrypotter/quiz/padfoot.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2236715605632766724?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2236715605632766724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2236715605632766724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2236715605632766724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2236715605632766724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/harry-potter-marauder.html' title='Harry Potter Marauder'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1083580042841879101</id><published>2004-06-07T18:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:14.011-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End of days...</title><content type='html'>Well the end of the year is finally fucking here. So friggin' glad too. It's about damn time. This summer I'm really looking forward to with Lisa, Ali, and a few other people. I was looking forward to it with this one girl that I really liked but now she has a boyfriend but... what're you gunna do? Life's life. Gotta suck it up and move on. I bet Abby is reading this. I really need to find a way to ban her. I don't read hers 'cuz I'm too scared, I only wished she would give me the same privacy. So Ali is coming on Friday. I'm mad excited about that. We haven't hung out in a while. And we are NOT dying my hair, for the first time in a long time. I don't know what I'm gunna do after 8th period now. Because the "girl I had a thing for" now will probably be walking with him and I don't have anyone to make fun of me. Oh well. It's only 4 more days, right? Then finals, and I'm determined to help as many people as I can. So if you need help for a certain subject, I'd be glad to help. Especially math. I'm really good with that. A or B - math - people. Just ask and I'll find time to help you with anything you want. Just comment or IM me (The2Slayers). Well I guess I'm gunna go sulk and watch Buffy like the usual me does. I really need to go to a party this weekend. If anyone by any chance is having one, TELL ME! Comment or something. It's simple to comment. I won't go through it again.Depressing sucks! But that's OK. Gimme 42 minutes and I'll be better. LOL. Doesn't mean I won't forget but... yeah. &lt;/3. OK, now I'm done being a drama king. Hehe. &lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="8"&gt;P&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size="7"&gt;e&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size="6"&gt;a&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;c&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;e&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1083580042841879101?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1083580042841879101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1083580042841879101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1083580042841879101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1083580042841879101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/end-of-days.html' title='End of days...'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2337935482639668733</id><published>2004-06-06T17:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:13.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ali... awesome kid...</title><content type='html'>I had this conversation with Ali and it was humorous so I had to put it in my LJ for the world to read:xx raiN kisSed: itz fineThe2Slayers: dont be madxx raiN kisSed: im notThe2Slayers: JUST CALM DOWN, ALRIGHT?!xx raiN kisSed: will do cap'nThe2Slayers: OK, that's it maam, I'm gunna have to ask you to leave.xx raiN kisSed: get ur hands off mexx raiN kisSed: WAHHHHHHHHHPAHThe2Slayers: God damnit, woman! You wanna see a whip? ::pulls out long-black-leather whip and starts hitting you::xx raiN kisSed: oh yea baby do it harderThe2Slayers: ::throws off airplane:: And yes... we are on an airplane.xx raiN kisSed: :: pulls open secret boob parachute ::xx raiN kisSed: :: evil laugh :: ull never catch me agent drewThe2Slayers: ::jumps off plane; violets parachute::xx raiN kisSed: :: plumets into ocean:: then rides a dolphin to shore!!xx raiN kisSed: :: takes off wet clothes very sexy like and shakes hair in the winddd ::The2Slayers: ::becomes Cameran Dias::xx raiN kisSed: u win&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2337935482639668733?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2337935482639668733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2337935482639668733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2337935482639668733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2337935482639668733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/ali-awesome-kid.html' title='Ali... awesome kid...'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-554404457314815403</id><published>2004-06-05T22:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:12.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Party</title><content type='html'>So I wake up and watch Buffy. Then my dad gets home and randomly starts bitching at me to get a damn job. So I was gunna go call Peter Andrews when I saw Ali's a/m that said "10-3 -- working a half day." Now, when in all god's name is 5 hours half a day? I am a teenager. I don't want a profession in picture frames and during the summer I want to relax and not work 10 hours a day to get money that I already have. Seriously. So me an' my dad got into a fight over how I'm "too lazy." But wouldn't it be better if I stayed home and worked on my special effects, rather than getting a job I don't want. I'm going to end up getting that Baskin Robins job with Lisa because they work Ali too hard and I don't need that for my summer. Anyways, then I came to my mom's and I got invited to Stephi's so I went. It wasn't too entertaining. It was just a bunch of people playing video games. So me, Syd, Smithy, and Ali went to Sunquam's park and went on the swings for a good 40 minutes. Then we walked to 7-Eleven and went back to Stephi's where we sat and stared at people getting shot for 1 hour. So me and Ali left and I decided to have a party full of only the Juniors (and Mia), because last time it was really fun when we put on black people music and danced. I'm not sure if/when this event will happen. But I'm excited. LOL. And tomorrow I'm taking my lil' cuz's to see Harry Potter. It was weird. They called and asked for me to take them and I couldn't refuse 'cause... well... &lt;b&gt;they're so little&lt;/b&gt;! That's my story. Comment if you care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-554404457314815403?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/554404457314815403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=554404457314815403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/554404457314815403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/554404457314815403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/party.html' title='Party'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4040836802952815905</id><published>2004-06-04T19:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:12.034-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter, baby!</title><content type='html'>OK, so I went to school in anticipation of seeing Harry Potter. Mrs. Tamburello was absent, which totally kicks ass because that bitch never gets sick and just the fact of knowing that her immune system failed her made me grin. Before 1st, I go in to ask Mrs. Hugunine for help with my lab and she yells at me for no god damned reason. She's like "I was dissappointed with your Regents grade that you took yesterday! You're one of those people that should get 100's on the Regents, and what you got was not up to your potential! So I thought I failed... I look at what I got... &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;90&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;!!! I was so amazed and pissed off at the same time. Anywho, I go and the day goes on and I cut 7th period because Mrs. Goonan was absent and I hate listening to the sub's telling us what to do. But I only went to her class 1 time this entire week. Oh well. Then the end of the day came... WOOT WOOT! I come home with Amanda and we get prepared. So we do the Jewish thing and go to the supermarket and buy huge things of Skittles and Starbursts. It was cool. Then we get there and our hands hurt like mother fuckers because of how excited we were (we were squeezing each others hands). And I buy Tostitos and a huge ass drink. So we get into the theatre and I give Amanda her b-day present and she starts crying! It was so awkward and yet I felt like I finally got a good birthday present! Woot! So the movie starts and we get more excited and probably sprained each others fingers. We had too many funny moments but I can't remember all of them. The first thing is when Malfoy was being an asshole and Amanda just screams out EH!!! And everyone looks at her. Then there was another time when I got bored and just repedidly shouted out EE! EE! EE EE EE!!! It was funny. Also at the end when he screamed out &lt;i&gt;Expecto Patronum!&lt;/i&gt; and the bright light/stag came from his wand I SCREAMED "I GOT TINGLIES!!!" And once again the whole theatre looked. Then at the end me and Amanda get up and I had to "arch my back forward" so that the immense amount of food that I ate could fit in my stomach. Then, in the 2 hours of the movie, somehow, I grew abs! It was craziness. I tried to show Amanda but I was too ticklish. So that was my day. It was exciting, only Harry Potter was honestly not that great and I fuckin' hate the new director.I took this from Maddi and Stacey:type your username with your:nose: 5y34ed4e3wgh9i43elbow: thedfrewbuetongue: thedrewbie --- (skill heh... practice makes perfect)chin: thywesdxcfdsdswvb jdefeet: thbedrd cewb uitggewweyes closed and one finger: thesreqwbieback of my hand: rnjdxc efdsefd uiweqwpalm: theddrewv bidemouse: thedreewbiewrist: thgsw3erdserew4wvb gu8jiws3e2forehead: 65778784 4 5 656 34437uuy 8 knee(you can move the keyboard):  yhbgtj nmh rfe4dc cxd vgfbtg fvbtrf dv eswxn hbki  tfgrv cdrefxCOMMENT! COMMENT! COMMENT! Whoever reads just take 30 seconds to just comment 'cuz it makes me glad that someone actually READS this, without me having to tell them to comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4040836802952815905?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4040836802952815905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4040836802952815905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4040836802952815905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4040836802952815905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/harry-potter-baby.html' title='Harry Potter, baby!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3659255584786747615</id><published>2004-06-03T18:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:11.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shrink Time!</title><content type='html'>So today I went to the stupid shrink man. I was determined to be an ass to him but when he started talking about Buffy I couldn't resist. But, luckily, I still had some memorable lines.&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;First line that comes out of his mouth&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: So! You're fifteen!&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: ::&lt;i&gt;nods slowly&lt;/i&gt;:: Yep.&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: So you're the same age as your sister...&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: Yeah, well that's generally what happens when you're twins.&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;5 minutes later&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: So do you get along with your siblings?&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: ::&lt;i&gt;stares at him for like 45 seconds&lt;/i&gt;:: No.&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: Abb--&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: ::&lt;i&gt;cutting him off&lt;/i&gt;:: --no.&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: Bre--&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: ::&lt;i&gt;cutting him off again&lt;/i&gt;:: --no.&lt;b&gt;Shrink&lt;/b&gt;: Jerem--&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: ::&lt;i&gt;cutting him lastly&lt;/i&gt;:: --no.&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;End conversation&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;On better news, HARRY POTTER TOMORROW!!! And... James Marsters is only 10 miles from where I am right now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3659255584786747615?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3659255584786747615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3659255584786747615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3659255584786747615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3659255584786747615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/shrink-time.html' title='Shrink Time!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7625047585770941838</id><published>2004-06-02T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:10.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>James Marsters</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Harry Potter in 2 days!!! So excited.&lt;/b&gt;So, today me and Maddi played badmitten and we actually did good! Of course, we are still un-undefeated but we managed to actually get an excessive amount of points. IT WAS CRAZY. Especially because we versed these really athletic Spanish people and scored more than a few times. Maddi has that power shot down and I did it a few times but I still am stupidified when it comes to hitting a certain shot purposely. I just wail my racket at the fish-thing and it hits my racket all the time. Of course I never scored that way until today. It was truley amazing.&lt;i&gt;Highlight of the period&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kid&lt;/b&gt;: What's the score?&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: You win.I'm really confused about Corie and stuff but it's all good 'cuz no matter what happens we'll still be friends. I've realized the extent of how powerful someone's writing can be while they are listening to music. From now on whenever I write my essays, I'm going to be listening to music. I've never really tried it, but if it comes out as good as my letters to people, then it's gotta ace me. Anyways, I just picked out Amanda's present online and I'm excited for it. And I'm paying a shit load of money for it also so she better treasure it and love it. But she's worth it. Anyways, I cut Goonan today because she was absent and we only have 7 days left of school. So I stayed after for Hugunine today and surprisingly did really bad on the test. Mia and Tommy broke. It's upsetting. There hasn't been one relationship that hasn't ended badly of anyone I know. Relationships are over rated. So why the hell do we all want one? It just causes more pain and heartache when you break up. I'm going to watch Buffy: Once More With Feeling.Speaking of Buffy, James Marsters is playing at the Crazy Donkey tomorrow. I really really really want to go. And I'd sneak out if it'd get me in, but I need to be 16. James Marsters people. I would actually be within feet of a character from Buffy. But sadly, I can't get it. I imagine there is going to be press all over there. Maybe I'll drive by and watch from the curb with Maddi. Anyways, yeah. Comment people. You think it doesn't make me happy but it seriously makes my day because I know that at least someone is reading this waste of bandwidth called MY JOURNAL. COMMENT, COMMENT, COMMENT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7625047585770941838?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7625047585770941838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7625047585770941838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7625047585770941838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7625047585770941838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/james-marsters.html' title='James Marsters'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5918351098625581732</id><published>2004-06-01T12:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:09.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>De Ja SICK!</title><content type='html'>I'm home sick today which sucks because there is only 8 more days left of school for us. I think Dewy got me sick at my party 'cuz I seem to have the same symptoms as her. But, anyways, I just finished watching Buffy and now I'm listening to music. I tried IMing Lyndsey but her away message is still up so that plan failed badly. There is 3 days til' Harry Potter 3!!! It's gunna be so SICK! I'm so excited. Of course I'm ditching backstage on the day of the play to see it, but whatever, it's Harry Potter. I was so amazed by the outcome of my party. I made a shit load of money and I'm not even done yet. Anyways, I am putting 500 of it into my bank account for my car and a little over 200 of it for my miniDV camcorder. The plan to pay the other 350 is really good! Immuna put Corie's and Mia's present away for the camcorder and then I'm doing my change and get a little over a hundred from that. Then 50 more from my grandma and I'm going to work for the rest and I plan on getting this around the last day of school, or the last day of finals... not so sure yet. Being sick sucks ass. I have absolutely nothing to do and I'm just on the ground coughing over and over. For some reason I'm listening to Tipsy. I'm tempted to go get one of Abby's new CD's and listen to it but I'm too lazy to get up. I'm going to end up watching Buffy again even though that breaks the cycle of only 2 episodes per day. But I won't watch any on Friday, so that makes up for it.Oh! I'm going to LA and Hawaii this summer!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5918351098625581732?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5918351098625581732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5918351098625581732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5918351098625581732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5918351098625581732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/06/de-ja-sick.html' title='De Ja SICK!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5794684504304347047</id><published>2004-05-31T10:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:08.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Party</title><content type='html'>Of course I'm updating about my birthday party. Wow... there is a LOT to write about. I have to say it was probably the best birthday I've ever had. No thanks to my freshman friends, but what can I expect from them, right? So me, Ali, and Amanda go to the beach. It was fun. We played a bad bad game of volleyball, which Ali decides to play with her boobs. Anyways, then we watch the airplanes and me and Ali were scared shitless. It was fun. We get back to my house and I shower and Ali showers. Then I have a panic attack from nothing being neat or in the right place. But then people arrive and we play DDR. That was fun alright. I enjoyed it greatly. So, after, is when the DRAMA starts. Props to Maddi for not starting. And props to all the juniors, actually, for not starting any. So Ali, Lisa, Nelson, Danny, and Amanda all go up to my room and sit there again like last time. Which I'm really not going to get into it because it's not how I want to remember my birthday, by what I thought were my real friends, ditching me and leaving my house at 9 o'clock. Because, of course, THEY need to be right. Thanks Nelson and Lisa for admitting it. But Ali and Amanda... I don't even wanna describe my rage for them right now. Amanda, I knew she was like that, she ALWAYS needs to be right. And Ali, I expected better from you and I can't really say anything besides that I'm dissappointed. Then we played badmitten which was SOOOO much fun I loved it. But then Dewy taught me to grind and I grinded with everyone for so long! It was amazing!!! I'll edit this later but I have to call Lee.OK now it's like 1:09 or something and I'm updating again to speak of the sleepover. Dewy, Danny, Maddi, and Ali slept over and we played asshole. It was so funny. Seriously, it like wrapped up the "best birthday" thing. I'll list the dares, or what I can remember of them. The first round, Maddi and I think Danny loses. I get to dare Maddi, and she had to eat a piece of chocolate cake, with french onion dip, and salt. She almost puked. Danny had to practice oral sex on a banana and... well... let's just hope Danny isn't gay because there was only half of a banana left (and not like he bit half off, like it was shaved off vertically so it was like a skinny banana. Poor penis for whichever man Danny falls in love with. Then, I think the next dare, or whichever one is when Maddi and me lost. Maddi had to violate Abby's doll. So she licked it from toe to the tip of its head and then started to do some weird thing with its crotch. Strange. Then I had to shove a balloon down my pants and start dancing with a song (one that I can't remember right now) and it was messed. That dare sucked. Then Maddi and Dewy lost. Here was the best dare of the night. We gave them each two things of applesauce (in the little plastic can) and they had to eat them both... with no hands or utensils. So Maddi won but the best part is when Maddi and Dewy had to puncture one of the applesauces because we left one of the two cans with the lids still sealed. Then Dewy's just droppd and fell. It's going to be my new avatar once Maddi downloads it. So, anyways. The next dare I think is me and Dewy. And Maddi put applesauce and strawberry syrup together, and mixed it. And then gave me a face-mask with it. It was enough to make me throw up. It was still amazing. And Dewy has applesauce and chocolate syrup. It was funny funny stuff. The last dare of the night was when Ali and Danny had to eat Life cereal, with no utensils or hands from a bowl... with no milk. Which means it was hard and you had to chew it. We gave up on them when Ali and Danny started spitting them at each other and Maddi took Ali's head and shoved it in a bowl and she just remained in that position. Then I tried to do the same with Danny only his neck is strong and I took the bowl and turned it upside down and crushed it on his head. Then we watched the whole party which was fun and now I'm here! Thanks people for the best birthday!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5794684504304347047?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5794684504304347047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5794684504304347047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5794684504304347047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5794684504304347047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/party.html' title='Party'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8823471922775424473</id><published>2004-05-30T09:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:06.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday - Part 1</title><content type='html'>OK so it's 9:50 AM on my birthday. And so far... Lisa cancelled. Then Dewy cancelled and now Ali is about to cancel because she didn't check with her parents the 7 other days she knew about it. But whatever it's OK. I mean so far the only one who wished me a happy birthday without me screaming "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY" was Mia. Thank you Mia. And then on top of that Lyndsey cancelled again and I made a joke about how I'll see her in September and she took me seriously and told me that we won't see each other til' September. So far... my birthday kicks ass! Except not. And I have another 14 conscious hours of this shit. My party better kick ass. All my best friends are going to be there. But wait... deduct Mia from that because Tommy is coming. And yet again deduct LISA from it because NELSON's coming! Yes! Isn't this great. She's going to do the same as she always did for my other parties except this time I'll feel REALLY unhappy because they aren't even going out. Oh, and the best is when they arrive together! Maybe she'll even bring me a pool again this time and then she can ignore me once again and go into the pool with him! I'll update later if/when I get back from the beach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8823471922775424473?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8823471922775424473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8823471922775424473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8823471922775424473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8823471922775424473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/birthday-part-1.html' title='Birthday - Part 1'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1952013970873369860</id><published>2004-05-27T19:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:06.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>School needs to die.</title><content type='html'>Today sucked. I'm only updating because Corie is getting angry with me. I'm trying to think of ONE eventful thing that happened today but I don't think there was. Besides Mia going out with Abby... but that's just upsetting not depressing. Anyways... for the weekend... &lt;b&gt;Friday&lt;/b&gt; -- I'm probably going to Maddi's 'cuz Abby is going to Musicfest. Then I'm going over Mia's house.&lt;b&gt;Saturday&lt;/b&gt; -- Ali is coming over. She might even possibly sleep over if her mom trusts me enough.&lt;b&gt;Sunday&lt;/b&gt; -- It's my birthday! Woo hoooooooooooooo&lt;b&gt;no&lt;/b&gt;. People are actually coming. I'm going to play DDR. Hopefully get money. &lt;b&gt;Monday&lt;/b&gt; -- I guess I'm going to go buy: &lt;a href="http://www.amphotoworld.com/product.asp?id=pspvgs120&amp;l=Froogle"&gt;GOD&lt;/a&gt; off the internet and maybe go write a script with Maddi or go to Lisa's and start writing out the script... if she's free. I saved the date for Amanda's birthday but her dad said family only... he's such an ass. But yeah.THEN HARRY POTTER THAT FRIDAY!!! Woot woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1952013970873369860?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1952013970873369860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1952013970873369860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1952013970873369860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1952013970873369860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/school-needs-to-die.html' title='School needs to die.'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3711943513435273092</id><published>2004-05-25T18:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:05.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was the FUCKING BEST DAY EVER!!!I go into school and TOTALLY bomb my lab practical which was pretty funny. I still don't understand why on the hemisphere they had a dot that said 10 AM and the real 10 AM is a clear white line lower down that I didn't see until I handed it in. And then my marble just STOPPED going down in the oil and from first reading was 12 seconds and my second reading was 25 seconds. So I just made up the second one. Then my calculator broke and Mr. Dickson came and took it away to get me a new one only he forgot about me and I didn't have time. So then I go to math and time goes by until English. And a bug FLIES into my mouth while I'm talking. And then it flew out. So I cover my mouth and Ms. Cunningham was like "You okay?" And I told her and she told me to get a drink and when I come back the class is taking a pop test because of a conversation that struck up due to the bug in the mouth... Then 8th period comes and I set up for the DDR. And then after school I'm scared to play 'cuz of the amounts of people. But LAST minute I come up and say that I'll compete because I saw how bad some people were. And then I came in 4th place out of everyone!!! Which totally kicks ass!!! Of course, I got the bad side and the bad mat but I still can't believe I went from not playing to 4th place!!! I'm really proud. However the game was definately rigged... Dewy only made 6th. That's wrong! I still had fun though! Love you Dewy!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3711943513435273092?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3711943513435273092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3711943513435273092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3711943513435273092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3711943513435273092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/today-was-fucking-best-day-everi-go.html' title=''/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1264196744842958144</id><published>2004-05-24T20:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:04.451-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Checkup from Hell</title><content type='html'>Today was SO entertaining I loved it. Seriously... OK, I'm handing out invitations for my party tomorrow. I invited Chow and Lace today. And I think Mia talked to Tommy. OK, so I get into school and I mimic what Mrs. Hugunine is going to say to me and then I walk in the classroom and she says the same exact thing that I said she was gunna say. I managed to get a 90 ON MY MATH TEST! Which I almost failed and yet someone it's a 90. Then day goes on... GYM TIME! I tried to get out of it but Mr. Sponge Bob Square Calves said that I still had to play and Maddi could sit out. So Chow and I play and I suck for some reason. Then we sit down and discuss what happened with Cassie, obviously. Then I don't remember but it's the end of the day and I [regretedly] signed up for the DDR Contest, which I most likely will not partake in. Then, we watch Adam play and him and his friend were assholes so I refused to play. And then I went home with Melissa to practice for tomorrow. So then we leave to get Brett's cast CHOPPED OFF! So, I sit in the car for an hour and a half and wait for the god damned cast-cutter-man to dissect it and peel it off of him. So they come back... and that's when hell happened.I went to get my physical so I can work with Lisa or Ali... not sure if I will work with either of them since both of them refuse to adapt to the fact that I don't like to travel 20 minutes every day to get to work. So, I get my check up and they hand me a cup. And I was so perplexed and I just stared into the cup not knowing what to do. Then I went into the doctors office and he weighed me and I gained 20 pounds in the past 2 years. Then he measured me and I grew 6 inches in the past 2 years. Then, lastly, the doctor called in these weird words and the nurse brought in the torture-devices. I refused to look at them. So I turn my head to the left and he pricks me with something and I start screaming my head off. It was just an allergy test! Then he covers it with a band-aid and tells me to look at it Wednesday. So I continue to look towards the door and he goes... "OK, 1 - 2.." *SHARP PAIN!!!* "...-3! Now did that hurt?" And I'm screaming my ass off like I little baby. But it didn't hurt, I just, oh, I don't know, don't like the though of a sharp object piercing my skin and going through my flesh so they can take some lab tests. Later I find out that it was the tetanus shot, which explained the soaring pain going up and down my arm. Lastly, he goes... "Blood test!" And I FREAK OUT. I hate blood tests. The last time I went (2 years ago) the nurses had to come in and hold me down because I saw the needle and my mind had a psychological break-down which resulted in me throwing my entire body into a draw and closing it so I didn't need it. So, the doctor puts a tourniquet (*Breaks out into Evanescence*) on my arm, and I didn't understand why! Blood tests come from your fingers. And 5 seconds later what can only be described as a scalpel slitting your upper arm cut me and I feel blood DRIPPING down my arm! And I looked and because of that foolish, foolish mistake I past out. My arm looked like a new-born baby only with much darker shades of red. I woke up later and ever since I've been typing with my left hand. Damn I'm scared... Moral: Don't do Maddi's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1264196744842958144?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1264196744842958144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1264196744842958144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1264196744842958144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1264196744842958144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/checkup-from-hell.html' title='Checkup from Hell'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5752645575358027594</id><published>2004-05-23T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:03.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>High School</title><content type='html'>I've just come to realize how useless this year is. I mean it was completely and utterly ineffective towards anything that anyone was trying to accomplish. Lets just take a minute to look at it. OK, so my friends... hate each other. They do. I'm going to list the pairings:1. Laura and Angela.2. Laura and Allie.3. Laura and Amanda.4. Laura and Mia.5. Angela and Lisa.6. Angela and Melissa.7. Angela and Mia.8. Angela and Lyndsey.9. Lisa and Nelson.10. Allie and Jeremy.Now... does anyone think my party is going to be hell? 'Cuz I'm excited to see if we will be able to pass through one evening without someone getting into a fight. If you get an invitation, your invited. If you don't. Don't come. But... as you can see, look how much has changed. I have to COORDINATE who I go out with to make sure that they don't hate each other. I lost my girlfriend which is old news I know. My grades have dropped completely. I hate my teachers. And yet I'm still happy with life! What is wrong with me?! Anyways, obviously nothing GOOD has come out of my freshman year at high school. But, hopefully, next year will be better. And I'm counting on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5752645575358027594?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5752645575358027594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5752645575358027594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5752645575358027594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5752645575358027594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/high-school.html' title='High School'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3013299909072392094</id><published>2004-05-22T21:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:28:02.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom</title><content type='html'>Well. I supposed I have to update... seeing how eventful my last two days were.&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Friday&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;Well... I got to stay home for prom and my dad let me which was just plain cool. I woke up at 11:00 which worked out well because now I could be awake for after-prom. So I wake up 11:00 and I delayed the dressing process for as long as I can because I simply do not agree with formal wear. But, finally after many prolonged hours, at 4:10 I started to get dressed. Only my stuff needed to be ironed. So I iron it and I'm proud so I walk to the other side of the ironing table, reach in for the iron and burn my thumb like all hell. But the pain went away slowly and then I went to the pre-prom. So Missa comes in late with pajamas on and I have no one to take pictures with yet. Then she comes out and looked really good. Afterwards we get in the limo and head to the boat and I'm slipping off the edge of the seat. So when the boat leaves the dock we find ourselves seats and play cards. Then after that we just hung out by the front of the boat and took pictures. Then I stood with Smithy as I can remember... (BTW this whole thing is basically from what I can remember). Now after the prom, Maddi and her limo ditches Kenny because he ditched her for a dance. Call it an unfair act of revenge? Yeah, so do we all. But luckily we managed to get him in our limo and drive him to the hotel where lots of DRAMA happened of corse. So Maddi "leaves" and Missa freaks because no ride home or whatever. Then Maddi comes back and there was some serious make out sessions between Mia and Tommy, Reuben and some white chick, and Nikko and Chris? Then Kenny and Cassie have a go and Maddi gets more mad, hence more DRAMA. So I'm floating back and forth just finding out information and I really don't need to say what I was because I think &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;MIA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt; covered it well enough with Abby (who supposively she isn't talking to anymore -- yeah what a great friend and sister, right?) But I really don't give anymore because if Abby wants to hang out with Mia, then go the fuck ahead and do so but I'll be sure to hang out with her friends more often. Now Maddi gets mad at Cassie when I think that it's crap for her to be mad at anyone except Kenny. Anyways... that's all I can REALLY remember from prom night. More will come to mind when people tell me what happened and I'll go "OOOH YEAH!"&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Saturday&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;I wake up -- bad, bad, bad, bad -- headache and I'm dizzy. So I call Lisa, Ali and then I realize I have a message from Laura saying "Me and Corie are going to see the movie and then you can come over later if you want to..." Now... I don't like Laura. But when SHE ditches me and then says IF YOU WANT TO... you KNOW something is wrong. But Laura doesn't tell me "if I want to..." it just doesn't flow that way. So I bitched to her because I've had way too much of her and then I go see Shrek 2 with Maddi. And Doug, Reuben, Sydney show up and it's cool 'cuz we talk all about prom and Maddi bitches about prom until the movie. And it was funny because Maddi's better when she's around movies and we made fun of it. So we go and then we go to Applebee's and talk more about prom and Cassie and Kenny. And then after that we paid for it and went to Tower and looked at stuff. And then me, Doug, and Sydney go outside and talk about prom and then Maddi and Dewy come out and we talk more about Cassie, Kenny, etc. Prom was amazing. I thought it was sooo good except the hangover which I guess &lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mia&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt; felt was important to tell Abby. And now I'm home and my stomach hurts like a bitch. And I have a really strong desire to talk to Cassie.Oh... Corie is my lover and Myra is her bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3013299909072392094?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3013299909072392094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3013299909072392094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3013299909072392094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3013299909072392094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/prom.html' title='Prom'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4309450799931605746</id><published>2004-05-20T16:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:59.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ANGEL - Series Finale</title><content type='html'>Last night was so sad. I mean. Probably the closest I've got to crying in like a year. I really can't rememeber the last time I cried. I asked around, except Abby, and no one can remember the last time I cried. It has to be like 6th grade or something. Someone chop off my arm or something. Anyways. Wesley died. It was SO funny. Only 'cuz I didn't like him. But Lindsey died also. And I liked Lindsey. I want them to make a spin-off of Illyria/Fred. She's SO hot. Best line:Demon: Come on... take your best shot, mortal.Illyria/Fred: *crying; pulls back fist and punches through his head.*&lt;img src="http://venus.walagata.com/w/thedrewbie/Fred.jpg"&gt;I've never seen a scene acted out so amazing as when Fred (see above) was crying when holding Wesley dead in her arms. If that scene wasn't in it, I would've stopped watching. The last episode was SO full of heart it was really bizarre. I mean ANGEL Series Finale didn't tie up a lot of loose ends like, oh say, the APOCALYPSE?! So they are making up to 6 TV movies next years. They might as well just make a Spike TV-spin-off which James Marsters agreed to. I'm actually upset by that ANGEL ended. It's ratings beat the West Wing... now, isn't that a reason to keep the show GOING? I'm angry with the WB. I'm only watching TV next year for Charmed. Friends? Understandable. ANGEL? Not. Bastards. That show pulled in the most ratings for that channel... well... not really... but it's probably the most original, true show on TV. And it isn't even my favorite show. But it should not have been cancelled.Tomorrow's prom! I love Missa.I miss ANGEL, bitches!&lt;img src="http://venus.walagata.com/w/thedrewbie/Angel_Finale_All_1.JPG" width="300" height="165"&gt; The last frame...If you are reading this PLEASE comment. I know that you all read it and when you comment on it, I like you more and I promise to buy you nice things when I get my job with Lisa. What are you saying?! I'm not bribing you!!! Comment or DIE! Just click the little link that says comment underneath this... You know you want to...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4309450799931605746?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4309450799931605746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4309450799931605746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4309450799931605746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4309450799931605746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/angel-series-finale.html' title='ANGEL - Series Finale'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1995635850571908056</id><published>2004-05-19T13:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:59.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mac... and Lab...</title><content type='html'>School sucked today. I definately got at least a B on my Math which is awesome. And Mrs. Hugunine and me got into an argument. Also, she's trying to sabatoge my day off Friday for PROM... but... it won't work. Now it's 8th. Lisa is sick again but Elicia is here and she's really cool. Except at the moment she's yelling at the computer screen so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1995635850571908056?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1995635850571908056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1995635850571908056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1995635850571908056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1995635850571908056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/mac-and-lab.html' title='Mac... and Lab...'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8348913783537859105</id><published>2004-05-18T15:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:58.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>363 539</title><content type='html'>So I woke up and I was really tired and so I went back to sleep. Then I woke up and at 11 I went to school and just didn't go to 7th period because of that damn movie. So then, I came home and we all sat in the play room and talked which was fun. Then they went to pizza but I decided to stay behind due to the fact that Mia and Tommy probably didn't want me there. So I'm sitting, working on my screensaver and it just needs to be stated: Is she not the HOTTEST person that has ever walked the Earth. Not only is she a &lt;b&gt;girl who kicks ass&lt;/b&gt; which is my ultimate fantasy, but she's &lt;i&gt;god damn&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;HOT&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;!!!&lt;img src="http://www.keira-knightley.org/multimedia/pictures/Movies/KingArthur/30.jpg"&gt;  &lt;img src="http://www.keira-knightley.org/multimedia/pictures/Movies/POTC/18.jpg" width="363" height="539"&gt;SHE'S WEARING A CORSET!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8348913783537859105?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8348913783537859105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8348913783537859105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8348913783537859105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8348913783537859105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/363-539.html' title='363 539'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1290573493640495800</id><published>2004-05-17T17:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:57.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, What A Day</title><content type='html'>Today was interesting... first period I &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;BOMBED&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; an Earth Science test. But my average is high enough that I don't have to worry about it hurting me. But it still sucked. Then math came and I didn't understand it and Mrs. Lykos gave me a look because I never "have that answer" which is weird because it's true. I have the whole 50 questions and the one she picks on me for... I don't have! Almost every day! Oh well... So anyways, Spanish passed and then came English which is fun because Mrs. Cunningham lets me do whatever the hell I want because I'm the only student in that class, probably any of her students that has above a 90. She blames them for their bad grades, but it's her teaching skills. I won't even get into that... but when an English teacher writes "The two &lt;i&gt;family's&lt;/i&gt; met in the forest," and "Their eating..." something's wrong. Then came Media Arts and we are watching BIG FISH, which totally kicks ass because it's an amazing movie. I have to do a review on it so I'll post it here when I'm done writing it. Then, came SS which was SO boring I need to kill myself. I'll probably cut because I CANNOT WATCH THAT BORING MOVIE ABOUT A SODA BOTTLE! God damn, some of these directors... And then I lost my cell phone! Someone stole it! So I get home and after freaking, I call it and Anil picks it up and he took it 'cuz I left it there. So I just saved myself another 300 bucks! Woo hoo!     Now I'm home and I just finished doing the screen savers. Lisa and Ali have their own separate ones because they have around 100 pictures each. And then I have one of all my friends which is around 24 minutes long at the moment. And this won't even include my party. I'm back to depressing lonely me again. But it won't show this time. I'm just waiting for some girl to come up and then for me to be like "&lt;i&gt;I wanna marry this girl!&lt;/i&gt;" Any volunteers?      On last note... PROM IS COMING UP!!! Friday! I just got my tux yesterday and I refused to wear a vest or to wear a cummerbund (which I now refer to as a cumberbumber -- which is just a small strap that you wear around your waist [it's like a fat, black piece of cloth].) And I'm excited to go! Only now I have to figure a way to not go to school on Friday which shouldn't be that hard because I wasn't absent once the entire quarter (1st - 10 absences 2nd - 11 absences 3rd - 14 absences 4th - 0 absences) so I don't think that it will be that hard. If not I'll just run to my moms and go back to sleep. She's so cool! She's: A. Letting me go to prom. B. Paying for my tux and C. (most important) Letting me stay out til whenever I want to! And when I told her she's like "Why wouldn't I let you stay out all night? Isn't that what prom is?" And my dad was like "I should have just not let you go." So as we can all see my mom &lt;b&gt;kicks&lt;/b&gt; ass and my dad's a pain &lt;b&gt;in the ass&lt;/b&gt;. COMMENT PEOPLE, COMMENT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1290573493640495800?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1290573493640495800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1290573493640495800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1290573493640495800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1290573493640495800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/oh-what-day.html' title='Oh, What A Day'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3402839962822936736</id><published>2004-05-16T10:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:56.632-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cor</title><content type='html'>Yeah I guess that last journal entry 'bout Corie was a little... uhm... mean? I take back most of what I said except the fact that she's rude to me. And I was in a bad mood about her 'cuz when she calls me and asks if I'm upset and I say maybe a little bit she hangs up on me. OK, so if that's not rude then what is? I mean I still like Corie and all but I don't think she does, me, which is kind of juvenile to do that over one thing but I'm not gunna argue this time. She can be friends with me, or she can't. I do care if she's friends with me but if she decides not to be then I'm not gunna argue with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3402839962822936736?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3402839962822936736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3402839962822936736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3402839962822936736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3402839962822936736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/cor.html' title='Cor'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4575360628478277262</id><published>2004-05-15T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:55.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW</title><content type='html'>Today was an eventful day. The proceeding paragraphs will include, a talk about this day, a VERY SHORT, BRIEF movie review, and other information.     Yesterday Abby apologized to me about Mia. And I forgave her and now we move on from that part in our lives. It turns out that Corie DOESN'T like me anymore but it hit me that I could never date her again. It'd be suicide. She's really rude to me basically all the time and I honestly don't understand WHAT I was thinking.     So, I wake up and Dewy and Abby are talking. Only I pretended to be asleep and when Dewy walked by my dresser I grabbed her shoulder and scared the living blackness out of her. So she took her sweater and hit me multiple times and I have a red scar on my hand from the damn zipper. Then I went to the beach with Lisa and took pictures. And a lot of them. We found an old man that got stuck on his side because his stomach was so huge. And when we discovered this ugly, fat, anti-agile man, we decide that if we ever become old which is not very likely, we will kill each other. Wrinkles, do not work with me. Old people can be fun, but the rest suck and I plan on never letting that happen. So after I went home and painted my canvas some more, and then I went to see Van Helsing with Melissa and Lisa (Prediction -- Short, concise, review coming up.)     Down to the point, and with no regards as to how unprofessional this may sound, this movie... SUCKED. It sucked so bad, and so hard, that the only event of the 2 hours and 21 minutes that were wasted of my life that made me happy was when Melissa screamed and the whole theatre looked at her. Stephen Sommers, I honestly wish you the best of luck in your cinematic experience, because you are going to need it. What in god's name happened to you? How do you go from Catch Me If You Can and The Jungle Book, to a combination of purposeless material called Van Helsing. You took 3 legendary characters, and made them BAD. First off, and correct me if I'm wrong, but Frakenstein, was the doctor. I have a bad memory, granted, but... it's Dr. Frankenstein. So why are people calling the want-to-be Peter Boyle, Frankenstein? I don't understand! What in god's name are you doing? The CGI was taken a little too out of hand with the vampires/Dracula. Use some god damned make-up. (Hellboy, perfect example). I've been a fan for having CGI and make-up. But it was all CGI! This movie was just a poor excuse for someone with a lot of money to muster up a load of shit that was supposed to be action sequences. How are we supposed to see anything if the camera is flashing back every .05 seconds? I have to admit, when a movie had material stolen from BUFFY, something is wrong. I won't even get into the stolen material. One thing that needs to be stated, in the end, you should have just had Kate Beckinsale/Christina Applegate just shout out "SIMBA!" to Hugh Jackman. It would be like The Secret Window, sucked until the last frame. The movie MAY have been able to be even remotely saved if there was any use of a good storyline, acceptable acting, alteration of ANY of the classic villains, or possibly even a good use of the CG. I can't think of this movie, it's making me cry. He's ruined everything, I blame you for world suffering. God damn you Stephen Sommers... &lt;b&gt;GOD DAMN YOU&lt;b&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4575360628478277262?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4575360628478277262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4575360628478277262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4575360628478277262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4575360628478277262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/wow.html' title='WOW'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4443736728942456590</id><published>2004-05-13T18:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:54.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Woo hoo! Life is going pretty good. Mia and me are friends again... of course I have a feeling that she's going to betray me again... but I'd rather live in the present.      Angela and me aren't really friends anymore... well... actually I don't know about this. But I mean, she lied to me. Smoked. Promised to never do it again. Smoked. And then tried to cover it up but failed miserably. So I just blocked her. I didn't need another sob story. WHY COULDN'T SHE JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH AND ASK FOR HELP!?     But the rest of life is going PERFECT.      Corie was going to move and I got really really really upset. Not anymore though. Anyways... I am stuck in the middle of two people. Lyndsey, who I know I would want to date again without a question. And Corie, who might actually have something for me and who I would also date without a question!!! Of course, she told me that she would... so that was my first hint. But, on her Blurty it says basically the same situation, only with Reuben and her "best friend." And I am kind of wondering if I am her best friend or not... Oh well I don't think anything would ever happen with either of them but oh well. Corie's weird like that.     OK, so I'm having a family issue with Abby. It's because I think she is a rude smart-mouth bitch. Really, I mean who the fuck puts on their Blurty "Sam, you are more of a mom to me than my mom, you were the only real mom to me." And after EVERYTHING my mom has fucking done for her. She wasted countless dollars to make Abby happy and she treats her like a piece of crap. It's sickening how all she cares about are her friends! And the issue with her and me now is Mia, of course. I hate how I am not allowed to even go over her friends houses for party's and yet she can steal my best friend away from me and think it's OK. And not only does she have the nerve to do that... but she talked crap about me to her! And Mia took it! And I couldn't hear the rest but I'm sick of her using that stupid annerexia story to EVERYONE to make them see how she can relate to them because of how depressed she is! And it's such crap. Why can't she see that she has a family who cares for her (well not me anymore) and a shit load of friends... why does she have to come after mine? I even said it's fine if they talk to each other at school. But why does she have to go and hang with her and give her long speeches. I couldn't really hear everything but I bet she says what she says to ALL her new friends... "I care about you... and I'm never going to give that up... no matter what! Because, you mean... so much to me..." Of course, I'm not talking to Abby, or covering for Abby for the rest of my life. And any of you friends who have a problem with that... well... you can just not like me. But her friends got too meddled in with our business and apparently thought that I actually gave a shit if she had to go drive in a car with Doug. Next time I found out... if my dad asks... I'm telling him the truth. And I am done venting. Thank you.     OK, maybe my life isn't going SO perfectly... but it's still going pretty damn well for all the issues in it. I mean, it's very rare that all this could happen and I would actually be happy. This weekend should be fun. Dewy is coming to sleep over and we are going to DDR all night. Then, Ali and me are seeing a movie and dying my hair for the last time til... June. And then I'm getting my suit/tux for PROM!!! So damn excited! Marissa and me are going to KICK ASS AS THE BEST DATE THAT HAS EVER EXISTED. And all the drunk juniors are going to remember us as the "What-the-fuck-are-they-doing-Are-they-dancing?!" couple. Again... WOO HOO!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4443736728942456590?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4443736728942456590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4443736728942456590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4443736728942456590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4443736728942456590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/woo-hoo-life-is-going-pretty-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3682307678700505897</id><published>2004-05-12T17:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:53.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Survey!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="font-size:10px;background-color:white;color:black;border:1px solid black;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WORD ASSOCIATION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is the first word that comes to mind when you hear...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Wang:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hung &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sex:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sleep &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Apple:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Apple &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Button:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Donut &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Digit:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Phone &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Trojan:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Condom &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Smoke:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;BAD &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Atlantic:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ocean &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Musician:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Bad &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Book:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Store &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;12-Year-Old:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Pediphile &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sock:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Shoe &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Cell Phone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Phone &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mohawk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hair &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hot Shot:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Pink &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Italian:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Finger:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Soda can &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Red:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Blood &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Turbo:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Tuxedo &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hair:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Style &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Eyeball:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gross &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sponge:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Bob &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Aloe:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lotion &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Pabst:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Baptist &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last Person You...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Loved:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Kissed:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;My memory doesn't stretch that far... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Thought of:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fantasized About:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Wished you were with:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Slept Next To:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Probably Ali... or Lisa, 8th period. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Watched a movie with:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Went Shopping With:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Don't go shopping. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Were Angry With:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Angela. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Stared at:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Corie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Cuddled With:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa, probably, if cuddling means hugging. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last Person Who...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ran their fingers through your hair:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hmm... someone did it today at school... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Made-Out With You:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Again, can't remember ancient information... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Loved You:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;What KIND of love? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Kissed You:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;We JUST DID THIS! But I kissed Amanda the other day! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Came Over:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Slept Over:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Danny &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gave You A Present:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Uhm... Ali. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gave You A Hug:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Erin &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gave You Shit About Something:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mia &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gave You (or Almost gave you) an Anurism:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Nicole &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAST...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Song You Listened To:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Somebody Help Me - Full Blown Rose &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Actual Album on CD:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Intro - Buffy (morning alarm) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person You Thought About:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Angela &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person You Called:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person Who Made You Laugh Really Hard:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Nicole &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person Who Insulted You:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mia &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person Who Called You Hot:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Erin &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Person Who Complimented You:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Erin &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Weapon:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Throwing Star &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Article of Clothing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;T-shirt &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5 People&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;1):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;2):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;3):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;4):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mia (at times) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;5):&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Corie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Movie:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;At the moment... Mean Girls (last one I saw) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FRIENDS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Smartest:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ha! My friends are not smart... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sweetest:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Best Advice Giver:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Housie:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Allie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hot Topic Whore:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mia &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Poseur:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Don't have poser friends... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Whore:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Spontaneous:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Corie&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;One You Love:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;One Everyone Loves:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Shelterd One:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Does that mean housed? Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Tragic Hero:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Surprisingly, Corie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Player:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Broken Heart:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lyndsey &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Prophet:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali or Lisa... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Everyone's Baby:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hero:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Bitch:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Corie (but that's why I love her) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Motherly:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Angela &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Pacifist:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Allie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sex Kitten:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;He-Whore:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Don't have any of those... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;The Annoyiong One:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Laura &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;The Punkest:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mia &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Most Hardcore:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa (sorry guys, but the rest of you hate each other) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Most Loveable:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Ali &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Most Loving:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Eccentric:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Biggest Slacker:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Nicole &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hardest Worker:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Allie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Charmer:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Amanda &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Child Of The Emo:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Allie &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Biggest Flirt:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lisa &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3682307678700505897?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3682307678700505897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3682307678700505897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3682307678700505897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3682307678700505897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/another-survey.html' title='Another Survey!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7774422250678010316</id><published>2004-05-10T19:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:53.111-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;...you..&lt;/b&gt;name..: Drew!age..: 15... hehe... not really...home..: ...is that a question?&lt;b&gt;..friends..&lt;/b&gt;most trustworthy..: Lisa.most fun to be around..: Lisa/Ali.strangest..: Miaknown the longest..: Amandafunniest..: Amandasexiest..: Lisabest looking..: Hmm... Angela? Lisa?smartest..: NONE. We're ALL literally retarded.dumbest..: Amandablondest..: Mia/Lisa. Lisa's pretty bad... but Mia's more blonde.most open-minded..: Lisamost outgoing..: Lisashyest..: Allie&lt;b&gt;What friend comes to mind when you hear the word..&lt;/b&gt;cow..: Cow as in fat? Or as in eats a lot? 'Cuz then Lisa/Ali.water..: Mia and her foot.pigs..: Excuse me?shy..: Allie... we already did that one.tree..: Amanda! Camaflouge!cookie..: Dana...piggy back..: Ali! Good times, good times.couch..: Ali...love..: Lyndseyhate..: We ARE talking friends right?ruler..: Allietape..: Laura... pictures...computer..: Miamath..: Mia (we SUCK)green..: Amanda&lt;b&gt;..what friend reminds you of the color..&lt;/b&gt;blue..: Ali, why?!yellow..: Jessicaorange..: Alliered..: Miapurple..: Lisapink..: Lisablack..: Miawhite..: Angela&lt;b&gt;..best friends..&lt;/b&gt;who is your best friend..: Ali/Mia/Lisa/Amanda... oops.why..: I love them?how long have you known them..: Ali - 2 years, Mia - 1 year, Lisa - 4 years, Amanda... 12 years... LOL.what is the funniest thing you two have ever done..: Ali - God only knows..., Mia - Pixie sticks and little kids, Lisa - Hit my head on a crank, Amanda - Too... too... many.what was the worst thing you two went through..: Ali - Nothing. Mia - Abby. Lisa - Nelson. Amanda - Vinny.have you two gone on vacation together..: Ali - This summer. Mia - No. Lisa - No. Amanda - No.if so, where..: NO!do your parents like your best friend..: Yes, doesn't know Mia, Yes, Yes.do their parents like you..: Ali - Obviously. Mia - think so. Lisa - No. Amanda - NO!&lt;b&gt;all your friends..&lt;/b&gt;best memory..: The play 2002.worst memory..: Can't say I have one.best time at the mall..: With Amanda!worst time at the mall..: With Danny...best time over someones house..: Lisa, built a fort.worst time over someones house..: Maddi, slept in a tent and got scared.who are all your friends..: That's a joke, right?how many do you have..: I'd say... above 15.do you consider your friends to be angels..: HAHA! Devils, all of them. They are gunna burn in hell with me. (Ali... Mia...)do you love your friends..: Not until we die... then we can terrorize people and torture them. Only then will I love them.is this survey really long..: Not at all.DO YOU LOVE CHEESE???!!!???!: Yo! You're my new best friend!... no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7774422250678010316?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7774422250678010316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7774422250678010316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7774422250678010316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7774422250678010316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/survey.html' title='Survey'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3892430227652246932</id><published>2004-05-07T23:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:52.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Sucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="arial" size="2" color="red"&gt;I know I haven't written here in a while. Chances are there are only a few people reading. I can't quite decide if I want to write in here... or if I just think it's stupid. But tonight calls for a special time to write in here. First off, I'm going to prom with Missa. It's official. I'm excited a lot. Although, I'm 100% sure Maddi does not want me to come. I feel bad like I did something wrong, and yet... I really don't care. Not that I don't care about Maddi, just that I'm so excited to actually be going to prom. The thing in movies, the "best night of our lives" except... it's Junior so I don't know if the same rules apply. Then I'm going to the after party and I'm so damn excited I think I might spin or something. &lt;b&gt;BUT&lt;/b&gt;! To the topic of this entry... my romance life.::&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;SPOILERS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;::The following content might be possibly very puppy-sick-love-full. It is quite possible I might go into a deeper part of my mind than any of you would even want to know. To warn a few this is about Lyndsey and Corie. So if any of you hate/dislike any of these few fine girls (ex: Angela)... please revert your eyes to my other previous entries.Now...I really don't know what the hell to do. I recently found out that Corie MIGHT wanna date me. Now, the thing is, Corie's the only person that has even remotely got my mind off the goddess of my past, Lyndsey. I mean in a way I will always be in love with Lynds. It's just the way it is. I got along this year saying to myself &lt;i&gt;Next year, we'll get back together.&lt;/i&gt; But I don't think it's ever going to happen again. Apart from the fact that I think we were made for each other, she obviously doesn't. And if she ever came back to me, I would let her back in my life in a heartbeat. I mean she stole my heart for an entire year and it was the best year of my life. And besides the fact that people think it's bullshit... it really isn't. I mean, I'm going into 10th... right? So when is it time to really find that person? And, no, I don't mean that person who you're going to marry, so don't worry. I mean the person that when you're 80 and you're all wrinkley and gross, you can look back and be like "Oh yeah... that was the best year(s) of my life!" And the majority of my friends say that it's just bullshit and no one needs it. But I definately do. I want that with Lyndsey, but I just obviously can't. So, about Cor... she actually got me to realize that my fantasy won't ever really come true with Lyndsey. And we hung out a few weekends in a row and I really wanna see what could happen with her. 'Cuz Corie's so amazing. Independent, and easy to talk to. Granted, she isn't beating the shit out of you. So I'm looking forward to the future, to see if anything CAN or WILL happen. And I'm hoping it will. God damn that was kind of emotional. You'll never hear/see anything like that come from me again so appreciate it and worship it. Peace.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3892430227652246932?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3892430227652246932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3892430227652246932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3892430227652246932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3892430227652246932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/05/love-sucks.html' title='Love Sucks'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2378324569563093492</id><published>2004-04-22T17:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:51.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kick-ass!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style='font-family : Arial, Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; border-collapse: collapse; border: 1px solid black;' cellspacing='0' cellpadding='2' align='center'&gt;&lt;form action='http://memegen.deskslave.org/viewmeme.pl?un=daydreamer8852&amp;meme=1074636882' method='POST'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;th colspan=2 bgcolor='#000000'&gt;&lt;font color='#DDDD88'&gt;What stupid celebrity are you destined to kill? by daydreamer8852&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/th&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#333333' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #FFFFFF;'&gt;Name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#DDDDAA' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #000000;'&gt;&lt;input type='text' name='Name' value='Andrew' size='20'&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#333333' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #FFFFFF;'&gt;Birthdate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#DDDDAA' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #000000;'&gt;&lt;input type='text' name='Birthdate' value='05/30/89' size='20'&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#333333' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #FFFFFF;'&gt;You killed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#DDDDAA' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #000000;'&gt;&lt;img src='http://pictures.greatestjournal.com/userimg/699107/283505'&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#333333' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #FFFFFF;'&gt;With a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#DDDDAA' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #000000;'&gt;&lt;img src='http://pictures.greatestjournal.com/userimg/699163/283505'&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#333333' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #FFFFFF;'&gt;On&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor='#DDDDAA' style='border: 1px solid black;'&gt;&lt;span style='color: #000000;'&gt;March 1, 2016&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;input type='hidden' name='un' value='daydreamer8852'&gt;&lt;input type='hidden' name='meme' value='1074636882'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=2 align='center' bgcolor='#000000'&gt;&lt;input type='submit' value='Fill Out Your Answers and Try it!'&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=2 align='center' bgcolor='#000000'&gt;&lt;font size='-1' color='#FFFFFF'&gt;Created with the ORIGINAL &lt;a href='http://memegen.deskslave.org/'&gt;&lt;font color='#DDDD88'&gt;MemeGen&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2378324569563093492?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2378324569563093492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2378324569563093492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2378324569563093492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2378324569563093492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/04/kick-ass.html' title='Kick-ass!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5359581646959383211</id><published>2004-04-03T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:50.397-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blindness Left Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="red" face="AvantGarde Bk BT" size="3"&gt; I just figured it out tonight at... 10:17. I can't change people I can't do anything. What I just realized is that life is life. Whatever you have is what you have. You have a fucked up life... it's what you have. You have the ability to change it. As well ALL know... Angela and Mia took in a cigarette at school. Im   cutting Mia slack. Cuz she wasn't there when I chucked a cell phone at Ali's head. But Angela... it's enough already. I can't deal with it. My friendships shouldn't be a constant pain in my ass. I can't complain 'cuz it's probably me. But you know? I really don't give a shit. I need true friendships. LY: Lee, Ali, Da, etc. Anyways... yeah I don't feel like writing! I'll write in like 30 minutes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5359581646959383211?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5359581646959383211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5359581646959383211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5359581646959383211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5359581646959383211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/04/blindness-left-me.html' title='Blindness Left Me'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4872471588437936433</id><published>2004-03-12T23:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:49.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lee!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="yellow" size="3" face="Futura Md BT"&gt;OK, Lisa cheered me up. I love that girl. She is going to be my future sister... somehow. We talked about getting our hermit crabs Saturday. And then we are going to my house, the movies, to dinner, and to spend time with our little crabby fuckers. So... yeah I love her and she's the best person that has ever came into my life!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4872471588437936433?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4872471588437936433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4872471588437936433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4872471588437936433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4872471588437936433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/03/lee.html' title='Lee!!!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1052951015788587261</id><published>2004-03-12T19:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:48.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Futura Md BT" size="3" color="red"&gt;I haven't written in here for a really fucking long ass time. But it was because I wasn't really angry. Everything has been going well lately. One of the major one's is me getting my best friend back. We all know who that is, and if you don't then you really don't know anything about me. But today everything went to hell. Besdies Allie getting on the softball team everything fucked up. My friends ditched me one by one. Amanda, I know she didn't do it intentionally but come on. If we promise to see a movie &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;together&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, where in those books does it say "including about 5 people you don't know and a few people you don't like?" And then after that after I confront her she goes "Well yeah I offered you to come with &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;us&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; but you said no." Well I don't think that's the meaning of together but whatever. Then Laura tells me in school she can't because of babysitting. And so I accepted that. But then she says she can't go because of money and rides. But what I wanted to do... didn't require any of it. So there's my second ditch. Then lastly what I was looking foward to the entire day was cancelled within 2 hours. Maddi came over to do the movie and I thought we were gunna be doing all night long and it would be like one of those late night things where we get all hyper. But she left me for Doug and them which upset me greatly but I didn't wanna say anything because I know how much she wants to go with them. But she's always upset about how they like Abby more than her. And then I finally get a free night and clear it for her and she leaves to go see the Secret Window. I'm hoping that she'll come back afterwards but it's a long shot. But yeah, whatever it's her choice and I'm OK with it. I was just looking forward to it all day long and now its over. Now I'm on the phone with Angela and she's listening to me bitch and making me feel better. So I'm going to continue talking to her and I hope I'm better at the end of the day. I'm actually really mad at the whole situation because I was really having fun and I thought she was too but I guess I was wrong once again. Anyways I'm gunna go lay down.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1052951015788587261?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1052951015788587261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1052951015788587261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1052951015788587261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1052951015788587261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-havent-written-in-here-for-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8288700899530887470</id><published>2004-02-09T19:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:47.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="system" color="FF8900"&gt;Three days ago I went to Laura's party and it was SO boring! I wanted to sleep on her bed because they were watching Malibu's Most Wanted and I refused to watch. Then Amanda got upset. It was still fun when we did the fondu... and I wish Laura would loosen up and sing because she has the best voice ever.&lt;i&gt;Three Days Later&lt;/i&gt;I'm watching Charmed at the moment. I had a reeally long day! I went to Victor's with Mia afterwards and we discussed Degrassi and then we had the best discussion ever. We talked about aphrodisiacs and fetish's. It was SO great. We narrowed it down to:Me:Aphrodisiacs - Strawberry's.Fetishes - Girl's with pointed objects.Mia:Aphrodisiacs - Unknown.Fetishes - Leather.I love that girl... she's now my best friend of all time like I promised. Then we talked all about her new-found relationship. I wouldn't picture a shy silent kid going out with Mia seeing as how she's a loud scary girl... but it's all good. Then I asked her to go on a double date with me, Amanda, Mia, and Jason. Guess what she said? No! Can you believe that?! She said I would do something stupid! When do I ever do &lt;u&gt;anything&lt;/u&gt; stupid? Then I dissected a soda can and we cut ourselves with them for some reason *cough*. On the way home I got into a random person's car and drove home it was great... I left Mia standing there while I drove off with some older person. Great afternoon. Then I came home and did something that I can't remember. Crew was cancelled for today which was good 'cuz I was tired. But, yeah, so I got into trouble yesterday 'cuz my dad went onto my computer and found a conversation between me and Amanda where I said "fuck" like 200 times and said that I wanted to commit suicide and he talked to me about all this crap... then I ignored him. So... yeah. And now a tribute to Angela. This is my tribute.P.S. Who said you could touch &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8288700899530887470?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8288700899530887470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8288700899530887470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8288700899530887470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8288700899530887470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/02/long-time.html' title='Long Time'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-9082177108853420300</id><published>2004-02-04T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:46.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mac Lab</title><content type='html'>I finally finished! We've been doing this Warhol project for a really long time and I finally finished. It's great that I did Eliza... heh... she's so freakin' hott! Now I'm in the Mac Lab with 15 minutes to spare. So I figured I'll update because I haven't updated in a really long time. I feel bad. But I'm going to start again. I might do it on the other thing... deadjournal. I'm not used to Stacey not being here. It's really upsetting. Me and Sam tried to convince ourselves that Stephanie is dead... We told Mrs. Hugunine and she didn't seem to care. She told us that she lives near there and the first thing that went through my head was &lt;i&gt;Oh Lord, Stephanie is going to meet up with Mrs. Hugunine one day on the streets and they're going to kill each other.&lt;/i&gt; I could just see Steph drop kicking her and screaming about how she doesn't go to our school anymore. Anyways, my stomach is growling. After this I have SS... then it's OFF! Yay! I have off with Lisa, 8th period. People would die to be in my position. Then I have to stay at the school for an hour. Me and Kristin are going to do the impossible. We are going to decode Romeo and Juliet. Somehow, some way we will sneak into the auditorium and sit on the couch instead of the ground because it's such a pain in the ass to do HW on a floor or student center chairs. So I'm all excited. Then I'm off to crew again and I'm excited! I hope I don't rip my pants... wish meh luck!BOO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-9082177108853420300?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/9082177108853420300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=9082177108853420300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/9082177108853420300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/9082177108853420300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/02/mac-lab.html' title='Mac Lab'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2538792529434967925</id><published>2004-01-21T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:44.342-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doors Are Bad People</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="system" color="white"&gt;Doors are bad people. Thank you. On other note, Maddi does not look like Howard Stern! Maybe her hair. But not even really her hair 'cuz it's died. And plus if anything Howard Stern looks like Maddi. And Maddi's hair can be sculpted into everything, it just so happens she likes it curley. So fuck her! Wait... get the fuck off her! LEAVE HER GOD DAMN BODY ALONE!!! I'd like to share a quote I thought up in English today... it was pretty bad 'cuz I started laughing and I wouldn't stop:&lt;b&gt;When faced with a medical or physical problem, mass murder is the key.&lt;/b&gt;I like it. Brett regurgitated this morning. I loved it! He puked, and then walked away without any expression on his face and started to watch TV again. It was the greatest thing ever. Yesterday I made french toast and had a WHOLE bowl of sugar with it. I got so hyper that I blacked out and then ran into a door. I was knocked out for like 2 minutes. Then I went upstairs and my nose started to bleed really badly. &lt;img src="http://pictures.sprintpcs.com/i/10665253509_0_1.jpg?ext=.jpg&amp;outquality=85"&gt;Then I went to sleep. I woke up 2 hours later and fell back asleep. It was scary. I woke up at 7:00 and watched TV and then One Tree Hill which isn't the best show since it's just a Dawson's Creek wannabee but it is still on my top 5 favorite shows. They are now as follows:1. Charmed2. Angel3. One Tree Hill4. Smallville5. Tru Calling. You best believe it bitch! &lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/N/nyrata/1073915744_ingensword.JPG" border="0" alt="Worrier"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Darkness is your passion. You can't live without it&lt;br&gt;and you're starting to turn dark. You are&lt;br&gt;interested in things that others fear,&lt;br&gt;sometimes using it against them. So much fun.&lt;br&gt;You think you're pretty dark, but that ain't&lt;br&gt;true. Better watch your back, real dark people&lt;br&gt;may find it fun to teach you a t&lt;p&gt;hing or two&lt;br&gt;about REAL darkness...American Idol sucks and it should be burned. Thank you.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2538792529434967925?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2538792529434967925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2538792529434967925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2538792529434967925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2538792529434967925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/doors-are-bad-people.html' title='Doors Are Bad People'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5843713057509762880</id><published>2004-01-16T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:43.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dyslexia</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="Century Gothic" color="#00ffff"&gt;My dad was FULL! With a U! First I woke up and got ready to go into school early. Then I found out at like 5:15 that school was cancelled! It was greatness. I went online and IM'd everyone I could muster. Then I called Ali and Lisa. I made Lisa all happy and then she fell asleep with me on the phone. Ali didn't pick up but blamed me later. I couldn't fall back asleep. So I've been up since like 5:00 &lt;small&gt;AM&lt;/small&gt; and I am soo friggin' tired right now it ain't even funny. So since like 6:00 &lt;small&gt;AM&lt;/small&gt; I was playing DDR straight through 4ish. Then Ali came over. She played DDR. I think I've grown an OCD towards it (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). It's not healthy. Ali was dragging me away. Not only do I now have an OCD but I think I now have dyslexia. I see everything dackwarbs! It's really weirb. Then Ali played... she had dyslexia from the start. I mean HONESTLY, I know the girl can dance... so how hard is it to just step in the right places at the right time? Any way... I've discovered there &lt;b&gt;is&lt;/b&gt; such a thing as the 5th wheel. I never knew that for sure. It was boring which is sad 'cuz I was looking foward to it. But at least I'm gunna spend some quality time with my lover on Monday afternoon to see &lt;u&gt;Big Fish&lt;/u&gt;. 'Cuz we didn't really get to hang much. Unfortunately enough, I sat behind the middle of Lisa and Nelson. So I saw all the groping and tongue swapping which I tried to avoid looking at... but I wanted to watch the freakin' movie (which doesn't matter since an UNKNOWN person told me the ending -- ALI!). So I got all upset that I have no one to hook up with... and now... I'm sad. And you know what I do when I'm sad??? Cookie dough here I come! And Ali... I shall save you none!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5843713057509762880?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5843713057509762880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5843713057509762880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5843713057509762880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5843713057509762880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/dyslexia.html' title='Dyslexia'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3827583979124700969</id><published>2004-01-11T13:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:42.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>I spent time with Maddi, now Missa, then Missa and Maddi. FUN!&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/truly-dippy/1061402444_ktopmagic2.gif" border="0" alt="Hecate"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3827583979124700969?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3827583979124700969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3827583979124700969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3827583979124700969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3827583979124700969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/quiz.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-5852527813661511803</id><published>2004-01-09T13:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:41.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pissed!</title><content type='html'>Life sucks! At the beginning, I woke up late which means I had to miss my extra-help session to make up a test that we took 1 month ago. Then Carina wakes me and goes "Andrew you were supposed to be at school 7 minutes ago." And I just jumped out of bed. Then I got accepted into all honors classes except English which I'm going to fix. The day went by s l o w l y and I thought I was dying. In Media I finished my project REALLY early so now I don't have to do anything Monday, Tuesday, Wednsday, Thursday, and Friday. Anyways, now I'm in 8th and Angela told me she is taking cooking instead. Now Lisa is running to get that class which just pisses the fuck out of me because it's bullshit! Seriously! We were all supposed to have off together. Now it is just me because Stacey is moving and this fucking sucks! When Lisa called me and said we would have off together I got &lt;u&gt;so&lt;/u&gt; excited! Now, I'm gunna have off with nobody. And when I asked Lisa not to she scoffed at me. &lt;b&gt;She&lt;/b&gt; scoffed at me! I fuckin' hate that bitch now. All she does is think she's an elite member of the fancy club and she deserves respect. I don't even wanna go into this I'm so angry with her. Now I'm going to be forced to take cooking! Those are the only two people I've ever met that gave up off LAST PERIOD OF THE DAY! I'm so fucking pissed off! I had to go get my own lap top because I was the only one who didn't get one. But it's all good 'cuz my weekend is gunna be fun!!! Anyways, I'm going to Victors with Cara because it's her birthday. Fun! Anyways, I'm sorta bored and Lisa wants me to help with the project but there really isn't a point because everytime I write something down they erase even though I've written screenplays and shit... I've said this already. I'm gunna have fun this weekend no matter what! Today's the 9th... of January. We all know that, that means... one year ago I asked Lyndsey out and today I can't get her off my mind. Figures this wouldnt happen today. It's OK, I SHALL SURVIVE! Sam has a story she has to tell me but won't tell me because of some unknown reason. But, I will find out no matter what!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-5852527813661511803?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5852527813661511803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=5852527813661511803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5852527813661511803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/5852527813661511803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/pissed.html' title='Pissed!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2715695231187805521</id><published>2004-01-07T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:40.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Orthadonticity</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="99FFCC" size="2" face="arial"&gt;Today was filled with greatness. First I got to sleep in. My brother woke me up at 6 and I yelled at him and then I went back to sleep til' 8:30!!! It was great. Then, I went to the orthadontist and there was literally &lt;u&gt;no&lt;/u&gt; &lt;u&gt;one&lt;/u&gt; &lt;u&gt;there&lt;/u&gt;! I went in about 30 seconds later and they clipped my wires and it didn't hurt at all. Except the lady didn't cut the wire short enough and the wire is poking at my skin and I don't go back for another 7 weeks and now this is a run-on sentence. So after that finished Carina (new one) &lt;i&gt;had&lt;/i&gt; to go get looked at because now &lt;b&gt;she&lt;/b&gt; wants braces. This woman needs some priorities! I mean braces cost around 6,000 where I go and she knows she can't afford it. Then I got home at 9:46 &lt;small&gt;AM&lt;/small&gt; and Carina (new one) got me McDonalds. I ate it while watching TV and then Carina (old one) called!!! We talked and she is gunna come visit me and Lisa and take us out to the movies either this weekend or next! Faith, people, faith! Then at 10:54 I went to school.  I got there are 11:01 and I went straight to the two cafeterias until 11:20. Then I went to guidance and got a pass to go to class at 11:22 but I didn't want to go to Cunninghams class so I just walked around with myself. Then I went to the Mac Lab and edited Eliza Dushku's face with Stacey. It was entertaining. After I was put into a group with my 2 favorite people in the class (including Sam). After 7th I went for a walk with someone and found out something really sad and I felt bad because that person won't let me tell the other person which might make those two people not really be those two people anymore! You know what I mean? And that person I walked with is sad because the other person is hanging with someone he/she shouldn't! But I can't say anything to anyone *x*. So then 8th I had fun except Angela and Lisa won't take any of my ideas which is strange because I've written professional screenplays before and they are do it &lt;b&gt;all&lt;/b&gt; wrong! For instance it is:Monkey: We have to trick them!!!when it &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; be:&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MonkeyWe have to trick them!!!&lt;/div&gt;And now I'm here typing. Plus, I'm going out to dinner tonight with Maddi. I think I should call some people and apologize because I've been really mean to people lately, IE: Laura. I'll update later!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2715695231187805521?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2715695231187805521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2715695231187805521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2715695231187805521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2715695231187805521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/orthadonticity.html' title='Orthadonticity'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3703677546731113924</id><published>2004-01-06T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:39.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>With Stacey!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="yellow" size="2" face="arial"&gt;Guess what... HAHA! I think that's funny. I'm in Media Arts right now with Stacey. She's sitting next to me typing on &lt;a href="http://www.caleida.com/~wishfulthinker"&gt;her journal&lt;/a&gt;. It's really funny because we already did our 3 movie reviews while our teacher was 'splaining how to do it so we have free time to do whatever we shall please. Anyways I'm in Abby's account because they are stupid and they put the internet with her account when &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; was the one who got the internet signed and she was the one who didn't. But since we are both 07AKirschner they were stupid and gave the internet to her god damn account! Man! Oh well, Stacey is still sitting next to me and she is gunna put me in her journal otherwise she shall be stabbed!!! Anywho, I'm sort of bored and I'm REALLY hot... the Mac Lab needs AC because all the computers give off a lot of heat. I mean, why do we even have these computers? Mac's suck. And we don't really need proof because no one can ever log in. And when we CAN log in they just freeze or do something stupid. I sware they have a mind of their own. It would be pretty funny though if they came to life and started walking around. *thinks* Ha! Anyways this morning I got ticked off because my stomach started to growl and I wanted to go down and eat in the middle of class but I couldn't. The reasoning for this was because Mrs. Hugunine wouldn't shut her god damn trap! I mean we have a &lt;u&gt;lab&lt;/u&gt; period so we can do &lt;b&gt;labs&lt;/b&gt;. She thinks it's so she can talk and blab for 1 hour and 30 minutes... straight. Honestly. The sad thing is... she gave us a lab! She gave us a lab to do for homework when we should've done it during our &lt;b&gt;lab &lt;u&gt;period&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. It makes me angry. Then I considered cutting 4th but I felt bad because I won't be in class tomorrow. And I don't even get to go home on the bus... I have to stay and take a test that I will probably do not so good on. But, overall this was a good day. Minimum work and lot's of people. 'Specially Stacey. She's my sister... we might plan on slitting our wrists and checking our blood. But... yeah. Yesterday I was pulling out my drawer and it fell on my finger and all my skin went flying down my finger and it started to bleed very badly. It resembles Maddi's knee when she ran into the wall at the mall.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3703677546731113924?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3703677546731113924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3703677546731113924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3703677546731113924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3703677546731113924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/with-stacey.html' title='With Stacey!!!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3110401390767756649</id><published>2004-01-05T19:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:39.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="2" face="arial" color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;YAY!&lt;/b&gt; I love Missa... she is probably the bestest person in the entire friggin' world!!! She invited me to go see Mandy Moore's &lt;i&gt;Chasing Liberty&lt;/i&gt; on Sunday which is perfect because... &lt;img src="http://user.chollian.net/~movieland/html/musician/mandy-s.jpg" alt="I LOVE THIS GIRL!!!"&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love this girl!!! Her music is OK, her face is hott, and I love her acting. Surprisingly Missa asked me the question that made my day. Stacey has a wooden doll that I want and I shall get one tomorrow once she tells me where she bought it. I woke up and wasn't tired... and now I am... thank you, ::bows::. So I'm off to watch whatever is on iO or on the WB/Noggin/Disney. So... YAY!&lt;small&gt;&lt;b&gt;I LOVE MISSA!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3110401390767756649?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3110401390767756649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3110401390767756649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3110401390767756649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3110401390767756649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/long-day.html' title='Long Day'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-8790631689142575835</id><published>2004-01-04T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:38.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="2" face="arial" color="red"&gt;For 12 out of 14 days of this vacation each one of my friends have called ME and made plans. I thought I would be satisfied... but I'm not. There is one... three people that are really starting to bug me. The first is Missa. She won't stop blabbing about how Abby is so special and how she &lt;i&gt;loves&lt;/i&gt; Abby and that she's so glad that Abby is being her friend. But what about me? And when I say blabbing... I mean typing it so don't mistake it... she doesn't know that's she's making me angry. But whenever I try to say something about Abby she yells at me. But it's OK because I love Missa even if she doesn't love me and she's my favorite person in the whole wide universe. Abby's the other person. My god, what an annoying bitch! It's funny because normally that's my place. But this time, Jeremy agrees! She never shuts up and she doesn't know when to shut up either! All she does is talk about her friends behind their backs. Like right now, she's in her room with Sam talking about Doug and someone else... maybe Missa. But anyways, Jeremy thinks she's so immature so it isn't just me. Then the last person is Maddi. All she does is complain about how people like Abby better than her. That makes no sense to me. Because when people need me I'm there, so I try to comfort Maddi and tell her all these good things. The next day she doesn't talk to me or give a damn about me. She never invites me &lt;i&gt;anywhere&lt;/i&gt; (which is also why Missa is making me angry).  Then she comes and bitches to me again about how her life is terrible and the only thing on her mind is directing. I feel bad writing this but since no one reads it... seems OK since no one will know I was talking about her. But, anyways, I feel bad for her because I want to be her friend like we were... but then I don't. But the same goes for Maddi as Missa. Even though she seems like she hates me more. Anyways... she always says "I'll let it slip." Why do &lt;b&gt;they&lt;/b&gt; get the last word? How come THEY can decide to get mad at me? They think I care... I don't. OK, I just ate breakfast and they were talking about people again so I came back up. So. Stephanie and Stacey are moving and I am SO sad it is crazy. Stacey is my soul fucking mate! She my hall person and my "make-fun-of-Corazon" person. And if she leaves then I have absolutely NO ONE to walk with. Which really lowers my self-esteem thingy. And Stephanie in my lab-partner and my buddy! She always makes me laugh in Science and I won't survive without her. I need help, desperatly and I need to get a life because all of the things I said up there... are mean and shouldn't be read by anyone. It makes me angry that I wrote it but I have to because when I write in here, I get a load off of my chest. This makes it possible for me to move on through my problems, so anyone who doesn't like what I wrote up there... I am sorry and if that isn't good enough for you then fuck off!!!P.S. I'm going to go find a way to block Abby's IP address so she can't view this anymore... thankies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-8790631689142575835?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/8790631689142575835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=8790631689142575835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8790631689142575835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/8790631689142575835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2004/01/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2517764591947372518</id><published>2003-12-26T21:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:37.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What The Hell Is Wrong With The World?</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="red" face="arial" size="3"&gt;After my previous responses towards my other things I have that question stuck in my head. &lt;i&gt;What the hell is wrong with everyone?&lt;/i&gt; Here are some of the responses: &lt;b&gt;You dont get respect because you dont give it.And your sick so god damn much you cant expect someone to call you to make sure you ok every time.It's not fair that you expect so much from your friends.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thats bullshit because you treat your friends like crap and for some reason they stick by you. You cant expect at a party to get attention the whole time. So they seperated rooms you cant say you never did that before. You just said how you hate when people take their stupid little problems and make them big things, well what did you just do. You cant the the juniors are immature because you dont even know them. So you know their names big woop! Your a fucking moron.&lt;/b&gt;People are such fucking ass' it scares me. And the REALLY sad thing is, the people don't even put their name. They're too scared to even write who they are at the bottom.  Whoever it is... you think you know me but you have absolutely no idea. You are the assholes and the joke is on you. And just a hint of advice from me to you... don't give advice.~*~---------------------------------------------~*~&lt;b&gt;NEXT DAY&lt;/b&gt;OK, this is the next day and I've learned a lot off of IP Addresses. For those of you who don't know it is like a 5 digit numbering. It could look like 23.476.43.21 or something like that. It's a way for your computer to be identified if needed. When you post here, if you comment, I recieve your IP Address which I normally don't use because... why would I? But after those posts, I looked at the IP Address and went to my downstairs computer. The IP Address down there was the same as the one that posted. So... after looking in Internet Explorer it had my journal in the history along with the comments page where &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;Abby&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; commented and left it anonymous. So for all of you who think I treat Abby badly, here's 2 hints:1. It isn't your business and you have no idea what it feels like to have such an immature prat as a sister.2. THAT'S why I am so rude because she does things like THAT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2517764591947372518?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2517764591947372518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2517764591947372518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2517764591947372518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2517764591947372518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/what-hell-is-wrong-with-world.html' title='What The Hell Is Wrong With The World?'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-982908916331262465</id><published>2003-12-24T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:36.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surveys Are Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="red" font="arial" size="3"&gt;Last night around 12:30ish I came across this thing in &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/spookydiblover"&gt;Maddi's Journal&lt;/a&gt;. It sent me into a state of hystericalaughing! Ha! I made that up! It almost sounded like a word!!! Read or perish you arrogant fool!THIS IS A SURVEY, IT IS IMPORTANT THAT EACH QUESTION IN THIS SURVEY IS ANSWERED IN TRUTH AND UM...JUST THAT IT'S ANSWERED. ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTIONS! ANSWER THEM!! Okay, you can continue. ANSWER THE QUESTIONS!!1. Hi: Si.2. Are you on crack?: Possibly. 3. Does that make you a crackhead?: No 4. Are you a crackhead? Um... yeah? 5. Crackhead...: BIRCH! 6. Is your name bill or martha?: Haha I spelt bitch wrong. 7. Why not? What parent would do that to there kid??8. What is it then?: My birth name of course... TheDrewbie!100. What is your sign and how many years have you had it for and how many years have you known about it for? (i just went with the fucking flow on that one): Signs... like... what? 9: Do you like white chocolate?: I ate some last night! 10. Why, you fucker?: Ch-Ch-Chanukah! 11. Do you like it because it is pretty?: Laugh. 12. Did you know it tastes like cardboard with sugar on top of it?: No... it tastes just fine you motha fucka!13. Do you like movies?: Helms yeah!14. Which one's?: Hate 'em. 15. I hate white chocolate: It's time for you to stop.16. Are you random?: Are you?17. Do you like tomatoes?: They're fruits! 18. Do you like catsup/ketchup/whatever: They're fruits!19. Do you like yourself: They're fruits!20. Change god dammit!!! What do you want to change?!: My absticles. 21. "But If you're synthetic starting tomorrow your balls come off"- What is this from? A SICK SICK MIND! 21. Is there something wrong with writing 21 twice?: If you know how to count... no.22. Do you like music?: Sometimes. 23. Well what type?: Barney. 24. What is the ultimate best band that ever existed: Barney you shit head!25. Why?: Ugh. 26. Do you like whores?: Whores can be very nice on occasion. Like this one time...27. Mel Brooks!: ...I had a party and a whore came and didn't steal our possessions. 18. Blazing Saddles is the best movie ever: Who? 28. Knock Knock!: Some guy got shot when he opened the door to a stranger. 29. Boo!: Hoot. 30. Who do you hate the most in this world (and I apologize to all of you who know who I am (as in the person who wrote this survey) but you are not allowed to put me): YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!21. I don't remember what to put here: You have to hang out with your "work friends"!31. What is your favorite song that is your favorite song?: Don't have time for ol' Drewbie, do we?21. I like music.: But when you need a ride ya do! I like music on occasion. 32. What tv thing on tv that it is your favorite? (osbournes, simpsons, whatever): The Buffster. 21. Channel?: That would be Channel 89. 33. Why is pettway a slut?: Infomercials. 34. Do you live in awkardness like me?: If you only knew. 35. Are you depressed?: ...no?36. Are you dead?: Two nights ago I was.37. Do you have any friends?: YES!!--no. 38. Why?: I socialize? 39. Do you know why I am writing this?: Never had any clue you piece of shit. 40. Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored Bored.: Ha! 60 more to go!.41. Do you know judge ruff neck?: Hmm?42. What is up with those little thin ass cd cases?: I have some if you need. 43. Why the hell do they keep cracking on me?: Who?44. What is your favorite money thing? (dollar, 5 dollar bill, nickel...): Die....................................mm.21. How are babies made?: Fall from the sky.45. Is it just me or does AOL suck really badly...: I had sex once.46. Makin' Love is Good For You.: If you're fat.47. B.B. KING!!!!: Person? Restaurant?48. Does superficiality make you feel better about yourself?: DSFSDF49. That's just me also, isn't it.: Enough's enough. 50. Are your friends also blue and imaginary?: Doyle! 51. Can they fly too?: Uhm... psycology is good for the soul, you retard. 21. Do you know Hope the flying singing yellow dog? MY DOGS NAME &lt;u&gt;WAS&lt;/u&gt; HOPE!52. I was at gashu and I thought my leg was on fire but it was just a carrot: TELL ME WHYYY! (&lt;-- that was Maddi's answer) AIN'T NOTHING BUT A HEARTACHE!53. I already know this survey is lame so...: Boredness can do silly things to the mind. 54. Who invented wood?: The Wright Brothers!55. Shh, just a moment of silence: *Raises right hand*56. : *Silence* 57. Am I scary?: Your face? Or you... yes.58. Do you like pencils?: I can float them!59. Do you hold them like a retard (yeah, I do): Was that supposed to be funny? 60. "Said we were getting down, on genessee and fountain smelled another mountain": Quotes can do silly things to the mind.61. Does anybody agree that the world would be a much happier place if we all had dimples?: Painful little creatures. 62. When I take over the world everybody will die by having their head roll off and death would be one of those issues that people just stopped caring about (like marijuana) because you can't cry about somebody who's head fell off. Admit it, god dammit, you'd laugh like a jackass. So how does that sound?: GREAT! MY PLAN WAS JUST THAT PEOPLE WOULD FALL INTO ENDLESS PITS OR VOLCANOES. 63. Hahaha, that would be pretty funny.: But yours is better. 21. Drinks?: Always. 21. Smoke?: Smoke?:22. Coke (no, not the drink): Yep. 23. Coke (no, not the drug): Hypoglycemic... 24: Holes anywhere?: I don't understand.25: Inkings?: &lt;&gt;Henna&lt;&gt;26. Light another roach!: I stepped on one, once.64. Why are people who can't sing yet still insist on doing so so funny? I'll go ask.65. Is it possible to have a mom younger than you and a different race (hey mom, look at me, i wrote a survey!): No.66. Who saw the face e-mail?: The... The what? 67. Hookers?: Eat 'em. 68. Aren't fire crackers fun?: Never tried one.69. Guns suck sometimes, right?: Never you spoof. 70. Yeah (sigh): Eat 'em. 71. I know I'm getting annoying so screw off, I'm bored: WE KNOW ALREADY!!!21. Toothpicks can be a hobby, i need tooth picks, otherwise i'd chew right out of my own mouth, if that's even possible. Is it?: Why didn't you like Pettway?72. Mo money, mo music and prostitution: My brother listens to that song!73. Are you lonely?: I'm in my room taking a 100-question survey that I get no reward for... no, I'm really not.74. Antisocial?: Excuse me?75. Borderline?: Excuse me?78. Schizoid?: Excuse you!76. Schizophrenic?: I hate when movies end like that.77. A pyschiatrist?: My maha and faha.78. Do you know any stalkers?: Laura. 79. Have you ever considered that they are stalking you?: Maddi! 80. Do you want to screw anyone at the moment?: *Glances at TV screen and smirks* 81. Are you screwing anyone at the moment?: *Panting; Moaning; Screams of pleasure in background.* No. 82. I meant like a relationship...: Excuse me?21. Spinny round, Spinny round: You're gunna puke.83. The best music things are unwritten law, j.e.w., adema, s.o.a.d., midtown, simple plan, sublime, movie life, bob marley, mest, long beach dumb all stars, sr-71 and dashboard confessional, got any to add?: What happened to the boldness?84. If I asked this question in other words earlier, I owe you an apology: BITCH! 85. I'm sorry: No. 86. Do you have any pets?: My first dog ran into a dresser and didn't die.87. Do they count as pets when you can't actually pet them (fish you mother fuckers): The other one ran into the snow and got lost forever. 21. Doesn't coffee taste like ham and dirt? I hate coffee! It SUCKS!: You sick, sick, mother fucker!88. Isn't spaghetti and meatballs a good meal?: Are they separate? 89. How many drug names do you know (advil and that shit doesn't count, gimme street names!): Dough? 90. Do you find that most of your friends are dealers?: Nope. 91. You are excused from the above question if you are friendless and extremely sensitive about it. Do you find yourself having meaningful conversations with Smarter Child and invisible people and, well, yourself?: I continuously try to curse him out and win. 92. And mushroom people.: Never.93. Yep, I know how it goes...: That's great for you. 94. Rechargeable batteries are cool because they recharge, right?: Of course. 95. Adrian's a dick!: Who? (&lt;-- Maddi said WHO! MADDI SAID WHO!!! BRODEY!!!)96. Pettway needs help getting that stick out of her ass, somebody help her quick (I'm sending it, chill!): ...Ew? 97. I don't wanna go anywhere, you?: Creator's Kingdom.21. Fear of beer?: ...Even though it's Collectors.69. Fear of deer?: You can't count can you... We hit one, once.&lt;b&gt;21. Bears! Lions and tigers and man eating birds, hold shit!:&lt;/b&gt; Toto from TWOZ.&lt;b&gt;98. Were you high when you took this survey?:&lt;/b&gt; On... boredness!!!&lt;b&gt;99. That sucks...:&lt;/b&gt; Ha!&lt;b&gt;100. Okay, do you like tomatoes?...I KNOW I ASKED THAT ALREADY!:&lt;/b&gt; And I said no you dumbass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-982908916331262465?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/982908916331262465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=982908916331262465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/982908916331262465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/982908916331262465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/surveys-are-fun.html' title='Surveys Are Fun'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-4250372981087808542</id><published>2003-12-23T19:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:35.547-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick of it!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="RED" size="3" face="arial"&gt;I'm so fucking sick of everyone going around with their stupid little problems making it seem like it is the end of the world. I'm just fucking sick of it. I do my best to make conversation and make people happy on their fucking birthday but I can't even manage to do that right. I go out to dinner sore and with a cold and my mom got mad that I didn't go to the doctor to take my inhalation of the flu shot (which I couldn't hence the cold), and my grandma thinks I'm hypoglyceric or something because I lost weight. Jeremy keeps talking about how mean I am to people and how I'm not nice to Carina. Like because we pay her 400 dollars a week I need to treat her all royal and shit? I don't think so. I don't treat anyone with respect because no one deserves it... including me. At my party... everything is all bad. 7 out of 21 went upstairs and stayed there the entire night and then goes "What are you mad at me?" Like who the fuck is &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; stupid? Seriously. Lisa and Ali both apologized to me. Jessica won't shuttup and doesn't get it that I have every right to be mad at her. Dana is my fucking favorit-est person in the whole freaking world. She said something to Nelson that I never thought anyone ever had the nerve to do and it was the fucking funniest thing EVER. My dad is being nice and crap and giving me good presents except for the ones I want. What I mean is, he has the presents I want but won't give them to me. Like he gave me an electric guitar but no AMP. Which he has, but won't give to me. Maddi left my party, suprise, suprise. I don't get why people think that their needs are greater than everyone elses. I mean I think as far as my problems go, no one cares which is the truth. But come on, I went to her party filled with immature Juniors and she can't come to a party with mature Freshman? And when she found out that there was making out going on she called us Freshman. How the fuck does that make us Freshman? I don't know why I'm capitalizing Freshman. But, seriously I'm sick of it. My group of friends are way too mature for their age. And the ones that aren't are like anti-anti-anti mature. For instance, Laura. I said in 6th grade she was hideous which was wrong I know but... she went and got all mad about it. And then we are back to the whole respect issue. Why should I give people respect? I don't get any. And my final thought is... &lt;i&gt;If I was sick in a hospital, not deadly, who would come visit me without me asking?&lt;/i&gt; That is what I wonder. Like when I am sick... no one ever calls and asks how I am. Ever. I don't understand that. What if I died? How long would it be that they found out? I'm very pissed off at the moment and I'm going to play DDR Max 2 because once again no one called me for plans. I should just get all new friends and get high all the time, that'll put me in a place in society!P.S. I don't know why I'm writing this because like 3 people read it and then they say they are sorry or that they feel bad and still... no change.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-4250372981087808542?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/4250372981087808542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=4250372981087808542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4250372981087808542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/4250372981087808542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/sick-of-it.html' title='Sick of it!!!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7640621670286132169</id><published>2003-12-18T15:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:34.275-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a BLOODY DAY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="red" face="arial" size="3"&gt;Well! I woke up this morning tired. So, I went back to sleep and woke up 45 minutes later. Yet, I was still tired! So I went on the bus... but &lt;b&gt;before hand&lt;/b&gt;, while I was swallowing my pill, Ashley screamed "BUS!!!" and ran out of the house. So I started gagging and choking on my pill and I couldn't breathe. I finally got it down a few seconds later and then I ran around the house looking for my backpack. Turns out I was standing next to it while I was swallowing my pill. Then I got on the bus and felt tired, so, I went to sleep. On &lt;b&gt;really&lt;/b&gt; hard books. Then I had a headache and I was STILL tired! I found out at 7:25 that we had a pep-rally. At 7:30 in the MORNING! What the fuck is that about? Well, now, I know what will wake me up in the morning. Amanda finally came and invited me to the mall. I refuse to go with her, because that two-sided skank who has no friends is going. Lady and gents, that would be Allie. But... back to my story. So, second period at gym I was playing with the medicine ball. It landed on my thumb, which was on the rock-hard floor. So I have to go to the doctor because my finger looks like this: /\/\/\/\/\/\/\ (that would be my bone). The nurse wanted to send me home but I refused. I got out of taking 3 tests and notes ALL DAY LONG!!! Woo-hoo!!! Anyways, it took me from 2:30-now to write this because I'm using one hand so... Comment or die! \/.\/ &lt;-- that's me closing my eyes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7640621670286132169?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7640621670286132169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7640621670286132169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7640621670286132169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7640621670286132169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/what-bloody-day.html' title='What a BLOODY DAY!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-3494144898875876700</id><published>2003-12-15T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:33.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SICK!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="width: 100%; height: 100%; font-family: arial; color: #54FF1D; filter: blur(add = 1, direction = 45, strength = 15)"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Once again Andrew the Drew Kirschner has gotten sick! I don't know what's wrong with me. I get sick at least once every month. I think it's a deficiency or something. I have a goal! My goal is to learn all these new words and such so that when I write fan fictions or scripts they turn out AMAZING! If anyone has any good sites for that PLEASE comment on this. So far, I learned ultimatums. I think it's an amazing word. It means a final word or a final statement taken. IE: If I said "I'm leaving if you don't do this by this time." That would be, not a threat, but apparently an ultimatum. I also know vexed and coy. Wow, gotta love it. Anyways, in the middle of science my hand starts shaking vigorously. I mean so fast I panicked and stopped writing for the rest of the period. Then I went to the nurse looking to lay down and was sent home. Then I had to go to my mom's house which was boring but what can I do? Now I'm here watching Buffy and actually enjoying being sick which is sort of wrong but it's all good. Anyways, I'm going to go watch another episode now because I think I wrote too much. COMMENT OR DIE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-3494144898875876700?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/3494144898875876700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=3494144898875876700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3494144898875876700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/3494144898875876700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/sick.html' title='SICK!'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-7908931839004550946</id><published>2003-12-14T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:33.134-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="width: 100%; height: 100%; font-size: 14px; font-family: arial; color: #ff0000; filter: glow(color=FFFF00, strength=10)"&gt;It snowed again! This is insanity I'm tellin' you! I &lt;i&gt;really &lt;b&gt;REALLY&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; hope that there's no school tomorrow. Although, I know I'll regret it if one of our vacations get cut short. Pretty much everyones' insanity (used it twice!) and depression derives from school. I mean come on. How fair is it that we have to wake up at 6:00 in the morning for 5 days a week. How the hell are kids OUR age supposed to concentrate. If someone has science first period and there is a test... no wonder the grade average for that class is lower than the one 8th period. It isn't even fair to COMPARE the two. Anyways, this is just a quick one, the one that you should read is the only below this one... but, I need to make a quick statement about Sam Scanlin. Although, we are not friends I like having someone that actually listens when I say things, tell me when I do obnoxious things, and be partners with me... even when she's not she feels bad. I actually do despise how much her and Abby spend on the phone... but that's their decision. Anyways, back to Sam. So she's &lt;u&gt;really&lt;/u&gt; mean to me around Abby and nice to me when she's not... but that's OK. I would like to retract what I said about her in my last entry... because even though it's true, she has a right to. And then there is the snow which I am going to stare at... wishing that there is no school tommorrow. By the way, I'm trying to organize a strike again waking up so early. Comment on this and the last entry POR FAVOR!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-7908931839004550946?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7908931839004550946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=7908931839004550946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7908931839004550946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/7908931839004550946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/waking-up.html' title='Waking Up'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-2397358255953697419</id><published>2003-12-13T22:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:32.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Same Old Bullshit</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="arial" size="3"&gt;Wow... what a fucking day(s). Maddi's party was last night. And although I did not want to attend... I did. I took the more "mature" role and went to the party. It actually ended up quite good except for the fact that the only person I went for ignored me the entire time. But that's okay seeing as how there were other people there. Tommy finally talked to me which made me happy that I'm not hated that much anymore. Missa is my new best friend from that group. Well... she's my new hobby. Ha! Hobby! OK, anyways, she kept me company and I love her. I'm thinking of buying Maddi a new lamp because hers is made out of some paper-napkin material that I rip off a chunk out of anger because, Lyndsey called me! What started out as an "I can't talk." conversation turned into a 32-minute conversation. We just talked with a few uncomfortable-ic questions. I will not say because it is my private business. But of corse all those feelings came rushing back. I made the mistake of telling Angela. For some reason, a girl with a relationship-span of 2 weeks thinks it would be worthwhile to give me advice. At first she called her a bitch which set me off into mean-mode. Then we got to talking and she told &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; to "move on". Obviously I had to blab about the whole "faith" issue. But in the end she still didn't get it. I have something to hold on to. And I don't get that very often lately. People think "&lt;i&gt;Oh he's Andrew, he has a lot of friends, he must be happy.&lt;/i&gt;" Well think again muchachos. My so-called "friends" aren't so perfect. Then there's the family issue and this all really just leads back to Missa who I never see and rarely talk to. But, when I do she actually comforts me and DOES SOMETHING ABOUT IT. For example, everyone is mad about the crack I made about Tommy. Missa was the &lt;b&gt;only&lt;/b&gt; one who talked to others. The rest just sat there and said "That's not right, gotta go... bye!" This LiveJournal isn't nearly enough for me but at least some of my anger is out. Woof. I'm going to watch Buffy because it's the only think in my sad-pathetic life that actually is steady and doesn't decide to talk about me behind my back (Allie Seifter), tell me what to do (Angela Mann), say crude things (Sam Scandlin), or any of it. Thanks for reading whoever is which probably isn't anyone seeing as how... yeah.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-2397358255953697419?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2397358255953697419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=2397358255953697419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2397358255953697419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/2397358255953697419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/12/same-old-bullshit.html' title='The Same Old Bullshit'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7615908799749372515.post-1698280663281901810</id><published>2003-05-20T12:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:27:32.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First</title><content type='html'>YAYYY my first livejournal post!!! My birthday is ten days. Uhm, okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7615908799749372515-1698280663281901810?l=the2slayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1698280663281901810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7615908799749372515&amp;postID=1698280663281901810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1698280663281901810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7615908799749372515/posts/default/1698280663281901810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the2slayers.blogspot.com/2003/05/first.html' title='First'/><author><name>Marketing Know-Nothing</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
