The Land of Ice and Snow

Once upon a time, there was a terrible land called the land of ice and snow. In the land of ice and snow, the sun never came out and it never stopped raining. The normal people were afraid to leave their homes because outside lurked the Birkenstock-wearing, dread-lock-having, happy-thoughts-cure-cancer, stuck-in-the-60's hippies. They were terrifying. The Land of Ice and Snow was ruled by and eeeeevil dictator, who in addition to banning the sun also banned coffee from the bears, especially European coffee. The evil dictator denied anyone living in the land of ice and snow access to the outside world. He did this by causing all the dragons used for transportation to be perpetually late. This way you could rarely get where you were going on time, if at all. The people living in the land of ice and snow were fed up to here with not being able to leave to feed their bears coffee. They sent multiple letters to the land of sunshine and happiness, and to their corespondents, the Greeks and the Irish. But the Greeks and the Irish were feuding in a great war, and thus had no gold left in their treasuries to use to save Barb and Tru-D, two of the people suffering most of the ailments that come from living in this dreaded land. So, the coffee deprived people of the land and ice and snow banded together. Edna, the leader of the deprived, called a meeting of all those with starving bears. The people yelled. They cried, the argued about the coffee and the dictator! Finally they decided something must be done. One brave soul named lower frank purposed that instead of the dragons, we build and enormous magical flying machine that could carry them all to the land of sunshine and happiness. So they began construction. There was much grueling labor, torment, sweat and toil put into the making of the magical flying machine. It was tough. They had to think happy thoughts, which is hard to do when you've got an angry bear on your hands. Finally they finished the magic flying machine. The Greeks and the Irish rejoiced and made peace. They formed a welcome party for Barb and Tru-Ds return. There was much celebrating, and much coffee, and all were happy.

The End

DISCLAIMER: no drugs were abused in the making of this story, just a lot of coffee deprivation. It'll drive you to do weird shihhh. This is your warning. Feed your bear coffee, for the love of all that is good and holy.

Thank You

Tru-D

Mommy guess what i learned in school today!

Good evening and welcome to another exciting installment to the college edition of my rants. As I'm sure you're aware, you diligent reader you, I am currently attending HSU. And in the wonderful world of pot heads, I am taking a world religion class. "Oh, that sounds like it would be an enlightening and educational experience." you might think. So did I. This belief persisted until i realized that guy at the front of the class who just raised his hand for the 400th time in the last 50 minutes is never going to stop trying to teach the class. His name is Lidea, which I think is very fitting to his role as pretentious college student #472. (I'm number 471) He is a religious studies major, who wants to become a Rabbi, which proved extra helpful during the Judaism portion of the class, and I now spend the greater part of my 120 minutes in World Religion thinking about what different objects would look like bouncing off of his self inflated cranium. Which happens to be capped by the beret that he wears every day. Now you're probably thinking: "Well gosh. You should really be nicer about this, this Lidea character cant be all bad." Well, you're right. Lidea does have some good qualities I'm sure. For one, there is not a single subject that he cannot form an opinion on. He is just that worldly.

Lidea has a pretentious college counterpart with a mullet and a flare for feminism. She reminds me of a turtle, and like pretentious college boy she seems to have this odd muscle dysfunction that doesn't allow her to lower her arm at the appropriate times. She is also filled with useful information on how America is full of evil doers who wish to corrupt the world, and all organized religion simply exists to get people to submit. These two often have discussions that they enjoy sharing with the class for extended periods of time, so as to enlighten our clearly mislead teacher and the rest of the class.

Today, in this wonderful world I like to call: arguments about the unimportant at an hour i should still be in bed, we had a guest speaker. He was supposed to talk about Islamic militancy. (Before i write the next little stint i would like to point out that I have a great deal of respect for Islam, it is a generally peaceful religion and its too bad that it gets such a bad rap.) So This guest speaker guy starts to talk about how miss-understood Osama Bin Laden is. Super awesome. Apparently he's just trying to model his religious

prophet and, Americans should try harder to sympathize with him Riiight. I'll get right on

that. Oh and by the way he says, Americans all practice some religion where the

constitution is out religious text and we worship the president. I know Obama is a little more

charismatic than our last guy, but i wouldn't call him a god.

You'd better believe our dynamic duo had something to say about this. The sad thing is that

this guest speaker has been the only one so far this semester not to just let them run with

their own theories and take over the class.

This is hardly a good thing. If the only people brave enough to stand up to the people forcing

their opinions on the public is a man with radical, if not terrifying, beliefs, the country's

in for a rough patch when these two fine specimen of Humboldt State graduate to yelling at

not just other college kids.

The bootay call

During my recent lapse in writing I have experienced on of many mile-stones of American youth. That's right folks, I've graduated and gone to college. Amazing I know. I managed to evade the ever increasing high school drop out statistics and get that piece of blank, rolled up paper. Now I get to join the ranks of the many pretentious students and seemingly further my education. Here's some of what I've learned:

During my limited college experiences thus far I've noticed one very prevalent phenomenon. This is the "booty call". You may already know this as the attempt made by a generally sleazy male, ages 15-302, depending on the ability to work his way around the foot shoved in his mouth, to have a no strings attached hook up.

While I haven't seen much so far, I believe this is particularly prevalent among freshmen. This could be brought on by that marvelous "I'm in college, and college is about hooking up, and hooking up only" (oh and don't forget the binge drinking) attitude. Both girls and boys are guilty of this one, no matter what we want to believe. For the girls, any otherwise devastating life choice can be brushed away with a "well its your freshman year, this is what your supposed to be doing." from one of those great friends who's name you wont remember tomorrow. How this is an excuse for catching seven different STD's in one night eludes me. And for the boys, "dude i was drunk, i swear she was hotter than that" will suffice.

The ultimate and most pure form of a booty call is of course when the booty-callee receives a text message, generally after 9pm inviting them to do something mundane, like hanging out in his room. This is fallowed by some physical activity and then an awkward "you should go, I have a class tomorrow..." never mind that tomorrow is Sunday, just continue on the walk back to your room hair disheveled and clothes missing buttons. Whatever you do don't take your eyes off the ground. Goodness knows you cant have the others doing the same thing see your whole face, otherwise you might have to discuss what you're doing.

But this is not the only way to behave when the booty call attacks, not at all. There are those who completely ignore the confused/ horrified look on their partners face and the necessary walk of shame. These people choose to instead misinterpret the affair as a relationship. I've witnessed many a beautiful relationship bloom between two random people through the implication of a hook up. This usually happens when one of the participants had some sort of real attraction before the unannounced mistake. The purely physical relationship is sustained by awkwardly biting back your utter disgust at the other persons lack of personality before you make out already, calling sitting in your dorm watching a movie a date, and avoiding eye contact and physical affection while in public. Give it a week and the person who wasn't interested in the first place will stop waving when they walk by each other in the dining hall.

However unpleasant this is, it seems an inevitable part of your experience as a young adult. So, get out there and head to your favorite pretentious college kids room and try and ignore the shame, it's at least a little fun right?

mmdada

Today from the what irks me booth we discuss the all too frequent phenomena of the double commercial. You've all seen it at one time or another. This not so rare event is when a television channel will choose to air two commercials for the same product back to back. While possibly an effective advertising technique, this form of commercial can have some incredibly unpleasant side effects. Some of which may include: frustration, anger, channel flipping, displaced release of frustration in the form of yelling at ones fellow TV watchers, and refusal to watch the channel making the choice to show the Charmin Ultra commercial with the clearly radioactive ice cream twice, sometimes three times, in a row. This occurrence is not limited to the good people at Charmin either. Television channels will often air multiple advertisements for their own shows. One instance involved 5 unnecessary advertisements for a daytime crossword game show all at once. This event will invariably result in the refusal of the viewer to watch the advertised program. So I must say to you, television commercial selectors, change your ways if you wish to increase your number of viewers. That is all.

mr the president obama sir

So today when my brother was watching the telly, because he could not possibly let his brain do something by itself for an hour, I noticed it was the news. Also that the crotchety looking reporter man was discussing the presidents presence in good ol' "socal". This surprised me because I had heard absolutly nothing of this nationaly important presence. We are so terribly un-aware of all that goes on around us in Santee that we dont even know when Mr. President is just a few cities away. It seems we were all far too buisy discussing our lifted trucks and new srh shirts that we just missed this news all together.
A city must be very self involved to not even know that the man who runs its country is only a few short hours away from it. Honest to goodness. We (not me but the general populus of santee) are willing to drive 5 hours to sit in the desert and get drunk, but not to see what all's goin down in this here country of ours.
Although since basic laws about things like underage drinking and illegal drugs dont seem to apply here maybe we dont really need to be concerned. The stimulus package doesnt matter to us because were all either going to grossmont and dropping out or just joining the military. And Lord knows the skin heads dont really want to go see obama since this would just be a refreshing slap in their face. All in all perhaps its better that the wind of this news did not russle up the Santee inhabitants.
Disclaimer: I know we arent all like that in santee. im just running with what pops in my head. and you know those people are out there. it might even be you.

top hats and evening gowns

Earlier in the week I took a trip to Starbucks, as I do quite frequently, to get a wonderful, over sized hot beverage to satisfy my caffeine addiction. As I walked in the door I noticed two very elegant people sitting at a table, sipping coffee, and not talking. Instead they were both on their blackberries. The blackberries were not of, course, the first thing I noticed. Rather that the statuesque older man was wearing a top hat. His partner, a woman with a classic nineteen twenties bob and a matching cellular device, was wearing an evening gown. My first idea was that these people were being paid by the multi-billion dollar coffee company as a promo. But on the cashiers inform that this was not true my mind began to wander to more exciting reasons for their presence. I'm sure you never guessed that Santee is not exactly known for its population of cultured, elegant people. In fact, its quite the opposite. I wish we had more excitingly dressed people in this the city where old people come to die. Ankle long baggy shorts on bald white dudes just aren't really as appealing as the top hat. Someone should definitely start that fad up again. Top hats are pretty amazing really. Its like they scream "hey I'm a smart guy dang it!" Maybe I would look smart in a top hat. Or at least severely deranged. There's a girl who goes to the lovely West Hills High School who I saw once sporting an outfit you usually wouldn't see except on a British man from 1910. While this was definitely a bit off, I must commend her for her attempt to venture back to a time in which fashion was actually art. The mini skirt is somehow not as aesthetically pleasing as a long flowy evening gown.

everything annoying me annoys me

Today, since I was doing some lovely self evaluating, which happens often with my dear friend Chelsey, I realized one of my fundamental qualities. This is the fact that I am annoyed by a rather lot of things. This is one of the reasons I'm able to belt out a rant at any moment, somewhat like this one. But really people, the list goes on and on. From eating noises to busy work. If you think of something, I can probably think of a way it annoys me. Perhaps even just your attempt to think annoys me. I don't know. But this realization made me quite literally say "my being annoyed all the time annoys me." This seems redundant but what I was really thinking is that I wish that I could be a more tolerant person, ya know. so that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to do my very best to not get annoyed by all the random little things that vex me. Just focus on the big things. you know, like the noise my moms heels make on the hard wood flooring. I mean its not as if I'm not annoying myself. Why, if I met me I would hate me. Wouldn't you.