When I first heard that this week was a free topic week, my mind started working overdrive. Then it stopped dead when I realized that this blogpost was a school thing. I decided to settle for magic, because who can be offended by magic?
I went around school doing a magic trick, and noted the different reactions. I have come to the conclusion that there are three different reactions to magic:

The Praisers: What a magician is always looking for is a praiser. These are the people who’s jaw drop to the floor every time you do something. They’re the ones who will go around and say: “you have to see this guy!” to their friends. They rock. These are the people who like mystery books, and are happy to have a feeling of befuddlement. They like the trick for the endless questions it poses.

The Deniers: Some people can’t except mystery. This is the class that will tell themselves anything from hidden robots to invisible wires to prove that you can’t fool them. This class is both annoying and amusing: They’re constantly trying to discredit you, and yet they think it within your capability to do almost anything, from a mini car in a disappearing golf ball, to a NASA mind reading chip in the back of your head.

The Poker-Faces: These are the people who will watch you pull an elephant out of their nose, and then shrug and say “so?” They are infuriating. You couldn’t make them gape if you turned yourself into Godzilla. These people appreciate the magic, but aren’t nice enough to let you know. You have to be careful with them, because they’re the ones who will do anything to figure you out. The paradox is that they are the ones who will most often ask you to repeat a magic trick, even if they make it sound more like a demand than a plea.

So if you like magic, or if you like trying to bust magicians, look at a video. Afterwards have friend tell you if your jaw dropped, you made up a load of Huey, or if you said what ever. It’s like a personality test, only it works.

The Truest Story Ever Told.

This morning I jumped on my horse
And went for a ride,
And some wild outlaws chased me
And shot me in the side.
So I crawled into a wildcats cave
To find a place to hide
But some pirates found me sleeping there
And soon they had me tied
To a pole and built a fire
Under me—I almost cried
Till a mermaid came and cut me loose
And begged to be my bride
So I said I’d come back Wednesday
But I must admit I lied.
Then I ran into a jungle swamp
But I forgot my guide
And I stepped into some quicksand
And no matter how hard I tried
I couldn’t get out, until I met
A watersnake named Clyde
Who pulled me to some cannibals
Who planned to have me fried
But an eagle came and swooped me up
And through the air we flied
But he dropped me in a boiling lake
A thousand miles wide
And you’ll never guess what I did next—

Is that not the most truest poem that you has ever reeded? Does its awesomeness not compel you to use terrible grammar? I think that it’s so awesome, I could write a blog post about it. This poem has always been a favorite of mine, probably the first real poem that I enjoyed reading. In fact, probably the only real poem I have ever enjoyed reading. Even for a non-appreciator of poetry, Shel Silverstien’s dry humor can bring a smile to my face. It’s hard to resist the easy flowing rhythm and creative twists that bring a special sort of life to his work. If I had to pick a favorite poet, it would most definitely be Shel Silverstein.

Media and a Memory

My childhood would not have been the same with out my blocks. I would sit on the floor for hours at a time, building stacks and knocking them down. When ever I was bored, I needed nothing but my brightly colored blocks to give me eons of entertainment. As I grew older, the towers became more complex, twisting in a double helix or sporting a wheel piece. I also began to incorporate different materials into my strong holds. I might add flair with a ribbon, or strengthen the infrastructure with a plastic cow. One of my latest towers, featured below, doesn’t even incorporate the blocks that spurred my love of building.

Even though I now use mine craft to satisfy my building needs, I still have those blocks. I often get them out, wondering what I might build with them.

But then I put them up because I have home work to do.


App’s I Couldn’t live Without…Mostly

I was going to start this post with everyone has an iPad, but then I realized that most everyone does not have an iPad. The scene from sillysongs with Larry “Every one has a Water Buffalo” Just before I posted Alfred the asparagus ran in front of my fingers yelling “Stop! Stop! Can you imagine the E-mails we’ll get? “I don’t have an iPad. Where’s my iPad?”” I almost wet my pants. That was when I realized the cactus juice I had drunk earlier this morning was probably not healthy. I made a mental note to burn the cactus it had come from.

That was when the circle birds showed up.

If any one gets the reference I just made there you should leave a comment and I will give you one free topic choice. ( you give me a topic and I will blog about it. Some exceptions apply. See back for details.)

So now, with all the rambling done, to the meat of the post!

Flappy Bird : Flappy Bird is terrible for your health. It produces what I call Los Años De Tenajios in those who play the game. The symptoms include irritableness, sleep loss, high levels of procrastination, and an over all gloomy demeanor. So why is this app on my top(ish) 5? Because I quit. Quitting flappy bird is the most glorious thing a person can experience. As I put the iPad down that day, I knew I was a better man.

Google Translate: I take Spanish. It’s one of my classes in school. More than that, it is one of my favorite classes. I love to figure things out and put together the pieces of what I am taught so that I can try to say more things. The problem however, is that I’m almost the only one in my class who feels that way. In the middle of a class of h pronouncing subpar students, I have to wait for others to catch up before me and the other “try-hards” can learn new words from the teacher. That is where Google translate kicks in. Using it I can piece together more pieces of the puzzle, learning words that I want to know.

Disco Zoo: What is more fun than owning a zoo? A: Owning a zoo that you can carry in your pocket. Disco zoo gives you the whole zoo owning experience– without all those nasty complaints and taxes and stuff! You can buy different flying machines to go to different regions of the world and rescue animals. These animals join your zoo, and every 5 animals you get, the more money they make! It’s an awesome game, free and fun too

Telligami: Have you ever stared down a possessed demon man? With Telligami you can! This app was created for presentation making, but is better suited for a portable freak show. You can make a animated person that either moves his mouth to a recording of your voice, or gives voice to text you type. That’s all fine and dandy, right? It’s when you try to give it a facial expression that Lucifer shows up. The faces that are programmed into the speaker are creepy as any horror movie times 3, and one face– called silly– makes you look for the nearest bucket. So if your into demon worshiping and stuff, download Telligami now!

Surgeon Simulator: If I had a dollar for every time some one asked me to app share this to them, I would have enough money to buy it for them. They are persistent, and are constantly bothering me. I like to view it as good practicing for saying no. But I digress– If you can, think of the most unrealistic thing you can, then multiply the unrealism by 5000. Now add a ton of gore and violence. Vualoh- Surgeon Simulator. In the game you get to be a surgeon, and your patient is a poor fellow named Bob. You can do a kidney, heart, eye, or tooth transplant. To do the heart transplant, you must first cut out the rig cage. Toss that. Now take out the lungs. Toss those. Proceed to cut out the stomach and esophagus. Toss ’em. Finally, chop out the heart. Into the trash. Now take the new heart and kinda shove it in the empty chest. You’re done! I am sure the guy will be fine, who needs to breathe?

So if you’re ever in the need for a new way to kill brain cells, look no further than these phenomenal apps!

Note about earlier challenge: if you win, only G(ish) topics will be accepted. All topics subject to disposal. You may submit your idea through comments. Notification of winning is submitted through comments. Good luck!

Week 2; Hiking in the greenbelt

There is nothing better than hiking in the greenbelt. As you stroll through a tunnel of green, the birds keep you company, chirping from the highest treetops. You can do anything you want, walking your dog or biking over the roots that cross the trek.

If you’re looking for a longer adventure, head on down to the very bottom of the lush valley. There runs the river Barton Springs, meandering along in some parts, plunging down waterfalls in others. You can take a swim in paradise.

So if you’re ever in Austin, don’t miss the wonders of the green belt.


The delivery man had groaned when he had gotten the assignment. “300 pounds of plywood to be delivered to the 14th opera lair” the note had read. Anyone who saw 14th opera lair on their order form knew that they had a rough day ahead of them. It was heck to get to, down meter wide tunnels, and across bottomless lakes. The journey was nearly impossible for a man on his own, much less dragging 300 pounds of wood. The poor man knew he hap no choice though, the company had a slogan: “Every costumer satisfied”. So it was with a heavy heart that he strapped the desired cargo into the back of his truck-barge.
His trip began driving toward the north part of town, before turning on to waylaid avenue. That took him to noosedon st., which in turn deposited him at the opera. He coasted down the service tunnel, a newly installed passage to beneath the building, before taking a right towards dream bottom. After a quarter of an hour, the lake loomed into view of his headlights. He pressed the blinking blue button on his stick-shift, turning his vehicle from land-crawler to water-skimmer. It was another half an hour from shore to shore, but once across the water it only took 5 minutes up a winding path, the only barrier between two halves of a huge chasm, to arrive an iron door in the face of the rock.
This was his destination.
He tentatively stepped out of the 8 wheeler, eyes fixed on the door as A feeling of foreboding fell on his form. He slowly paced towards the portal, dreading the moment that he would have to knock. And then he was there, at the door with nothing to do but announce himself to the person within.
He steeled the nerves trembling inside of his body, and rapped on the cold steel of the passage.
Almost immediately he heard an “ah-ha!” from the other side. It was not but a second before the threshold was emptied of the metal door in it. Through the new opening in the rock, he saw a figure back lit by a small chandelier. “Come in! Come in and bring with you my wood!” The figure bellowed, accompanying the words with a hearty laugh. The delivery man stood awestruck, gazing upon the once was Phantom. When he was last seen he was an evil and contorted soul. Through time however, he had transformed from a scourge to a person who seemed to glow with happiness.
“Come in and see what I’ve done with the place”, said the converted man. So John obliged, obediently shuffling through the portal from dark to cozy.
The opening room was softly lit, the ceiling tapered to the base of the miniscule chandelier, its candles flickering and soft. The predominate color of the room was red, the shade of which being the color of a young rose. Candle lit tunnels branched off to rooms unseen.
“The tunnel to the right leads to the bedroom”, explained the Phantom, “the middle one branches off towards my library, and the one on the far right will connect to my under ground green house. I’m going to use state of the art equipment to grow plants under ground, and the wood you’ve delivered will help me create some of the things I need.”
John was too busy marveling at the room he was currently in to pay much attention to the masked man’s words, but he soon listen up.
“Now that I’ve shone you all of this, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave” were the next words to come, and as the Phantom said them he took a length of rope out from under the couch.
John could only stare in horror as the monster calmly walked towards him, forming the rope into the shape of a lasso….
Creative Commons License Photo Credit: WatchTheFlash_Photography via Compfight

Expository Writing Strikes Once More

I wanted to name this piece “Expository Writing Strikes again”, but then I found out that I don’t like the word again. So I renamed it.

So, if you hadn’t read the substituted title, I will tell you that this, once again(aggghh!), is an expository piece. I will now stop writing, because I’m sure that you’re my devoted follower. You obviously are, so you know that I don’t write anything good when I’m forced to follow guide lines. I don’t follow the ruls1!!~ I also don’t proof-read.
But, because my English teacher is obligated to read this, I will persevere in my writing.

Actually, I’m just going to copy a particularly long comment I made.
I will now disprove air travel! (the post I commented on was about why air planes are better)
Just for the sake of argument, I’d like to make a counter point. The counter point is this: Airplanes are expensive! By sacrificing a few small comforts, you are able to ride for half the price. That means more money to spend on better hotels and stuff at the place you’re going to. Also, airplanes are boring. Let’s talk about the view, shall we? If you look to the right, you can see a cloud. By directing your attention to the left, you can see another cloud. White, blank, and boring as a white board.
On a train, the view is constantly changing. You never know when you could see something you never have! I call opon the supporting truth here: a lot of people ride trains just for fun!
So people, next time you have somewhere to go, put the fun back in the journey. Get your money in your pocket and your eyes on the prize.

An Expository Piece

If you looked at the catagorie this is in, you would notice that this is a required piece. This does not come from the heart, so it will not be fun to read. It will be monotonous, and you can blame my teacher.

Forcing a kid to write something that they don’t care about is dumb. If they aren’t inspired by a topic, then they aren’t going to be able to produce an essay worth the paper it’s written on. It’s because of “guidelines” that so many potentially brilliant writers are made to hate their could have been skill.
No one ever had a problem with Mark Twain’s writing just because it wasn’t an expository piece. The best writing never is assigned to a person, because that is limiting. How is the child to produce a new and creative piece if he can’t choose how to write his own story?
His own story!
So teachers, next time you have an assignment, don’t shun the next Mark Twain. Stop the madness, and let the poor children choose what they want to write. Not what you think is best.
Let us be free.

Get Yo’ Mind Out O’ The Gutter!

I jogged through the woods, hurrying to get home before dark fell. I had been out deep in the green belt behind my house when it started to mist up. The fog had rolled in low to the ground, seeming to rise out of the bowels of the earth in a thick, cloaking mist. Rising up in fat, thick, fingers coming up from a lower realm.
I hurried along, the trees hiding in the soupy air until I was close enough so that they could lunge out and grab at me. Rocks echoed down the canyon as I disturbed them, echoing as they descended deeper and deeper, clanging off the rocky outcrops like chalk bouncing off a black board. I stopped—listening. I heard something. I knew I did— but what? Then— out of the chokingly thick fog— it came. A hand with no owner, a wrist with no arm.
I proceeded to bolt

Off the cliff

I hate gravity.
Do you know how cold the river I fell into was? You don’t. Because, if you’re reading this, you are not the squirrel meat man, who had been thrown into the tundra of a stream by an angry tree hugger. The said tree hugger had been close friends with a squirrel, who being rather plump, and rather dumb, had been an ideal target for my fellow swimmer.
Isn’t this story so scary? You can tell at what point I was in the story I stopped to watch SNL videos on you tube. I may never be the same.
If you can still remember the first sentence of the last paragraph, I’ll answer my rhetorical question. A: as cold as a metal shirt in Antarctica. That is if there even is such a thing a a metal shirt.
I’m really off topic, so I’ll come back next week with the rest of the story.

Or maybe I’ll leave you hanging like I did with the cloud 9 story.

I really should finish that.

Why is my Face Blue?

I fell down a flight of stairs and now my forehead has turned a sickly shade of blue. This is really inconvenient because when ever I see myself in the mirror I start to throw up. Please Help. I don’t know what to do. It’s really hard to keep any food down. I’m starting to lose weight.