Cracked

If you've followed any of the links that I've posted before, you may have noticed that I read articles on Cracked an awful lot.  It's because the stuff they write about is true, applicable to my life, and therefore I find it hilarious.  The language can become vulgar at times, but that's basically the only issue.  As I said, it's freakin' hilarious.

If you've read my other posts and read articles on Cracked, you'll see that I follow the 'paragraph-submit picture with caption-paragraph' format.  I do this because a) it's a funny way to get a point across and b) that style of writing isn't just theirs and isn't copyrighted, so I don't feel bad about it.

I have a case of writer's block (which, for a non-writer, is like leprosy), so I'm going to post some of my favorite articles on here for your enjoyment.  Maybe you'll find out a little more about me based on what I find humorous...maybe you don't care...

M. Night Shyamalan--The Last Airbender
Bioware
Traumatizing Baby Products
A Gamer's Manifesto
Badass Presidents
Stupid LOTR Characters
Offenses Punishable by Death
Stupid SW Characters
Video Game Plot Devices
Public Restrooms

These are the articles that lasted with me, but those that are uploaded every day make me laugh as well.  Just to make this clear, I do not own any of this and did not write these articles.  Happy, lawyers?

Look at those cold, inhuman stares.

 

Stay colorful,
                     Meimei

Busy

Lo siento, mis compadres.  I've been slaving away in the non-Internet world of school and Battlefield 3 (first world problems are the worst), and therefore haven't had the time or the inclination to sit down and blog.  Also, I've been adding a lot to my book and I wanted to focus all my writing energies on it, so blogging sort of took a backseat this month.

Ironic reference, or racist?

However, the stupid part of me that wants to be responsible pulled a Rosa Parks and brought the issue to the front of my mind.  So I'm back, and I'll try not to be away so long again.  Okay?  Okay.  So, is there a topic I need to write about or...wait, I got it!

Cue the hipster light bulb.

Let's take the opportunity to keep on the title topic (I hate the word titular) (you know why) and talk about what happens when we perceive ourselves as 'busy'.  When I procrastinate and wait until 10:30 to start a mountain of homework, I'll tell people I was 'busy' the entire afternoon and had to stay up until 3 AM.  I could very well have done my school crap earlier and had time to write a clever little post on this deserted blog, but I'm lazy and self-entitled and I don't want to believe that I sit around doing nothing most of the time.  And yes, I basically just admitted that I could've blogged a lot more.

What else do we send to the back of the proverbial bus that is our attention span?  Work?  Family?  I understand this is more serious than my other posts; however, life gets serious, and I thought I'd kick your guilty conscience in the groin before someone you care about does.  You're welcome.

I got real with y'all, now it's time to examine your own priorities.  If you're too afraid to own up to yourself, get on your knees and tell your Father the issues you have.  He won't judge, and it can only help.  I'll leave you at that, my broskis.

Stay colorful,
                     Meimei

Burn Victim

It's November, and it's cold outside.  And because there's only tile in this house, it's also cold inside.  I would get a blanket, but I've succeeded in wrapping my legs up in a way that (a) allows me to keep my feet somewhat warm and (b) makes them fall asleep to where if I tried to walk I would stumble around like Bambi.

What a retard.

This winter chill did not come about overnight--it came overnight several days ago (if you thought women were bipolar you should see our weather patterns).  Yesterday I went to Starbucks and ordered a peppermint hot chocolate, hoping the cocoa would warm my tummy and hold the cold air at bay.  It turned out it was the barista's favorite hot drink too, and she put on the perfect amount of whipped cream for any hot chocolate lover (the ratio of cream to drink should be in the neighborhood of 2:8).  This was turning out to be the best trip to Starbucks ever. 

She finished making my cocoa and asked me how it was.  Normally, I'd wait a bit and try to let my drink cool off, but she was excited--and I was kind of cold--so I went ahead and tasted.  And the very fires of Hell burned the tip of my tongue, with scorching flames roasting their way down my throat.

He was there.

It only took around two seconds to drink and swallow the fiery liquid, yet my tongue felt as though it had been bathed in refining fire for an eon.  My barista smiled expectantly at me, and I returned the favor; what I could taste of the peppermint-chocolate was fantastic, and it wasn't her fault that hot cocoa was hot.  I then walked out to my car, got in and sat crying in pain.  Not really, but you get the idea.

Welcome to Hell.

Also, in case you were wondering, I have lost the ability to taste with my front taste buds.  Sorry, words on the tip of my tongue.


Stay colorful,
                     Meimei