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| Ok today, since it has been countless sleepless nights since the last time I entered my thoughts into this "oh so personal" web log, I will share with you some of the more important things about the past couple of months.
Ryman, Travis (n.)
Since I can no longer categorize him as "Kristen's Friend" because, he is now my friend as well. Yes, this is the same Travis Ryman who coined such phrases as "Who's Where?", the "Quack" chant to boost morale in his volley ball team, and the ever famous "You're a freakin' loser" after my confessing to him that I played Everquest.
For those of you who don't Ryman.....you're missing out
KP....
What does it stand for?
Hero?
Dictator?
Enemy to mankind?
Weapon of Mass Destruction?!?!?!?
"Ma'am, I regret to inform you that your son, Jebidiah Smith, was killed today from a flaming KP to the chest. Do not fret...the doctors believe he was dead before he hit the ground."
"Excuse me Sir, but we're going to have to search you and your baggage. We found what we believe to be a home made KP."
" What's the matter, dear?"
" Nothing hunny, I think I just ate some bad KP tonight"
Through the wonders of science we see now that KP is not a threat to humanity. He is a MAN!!!!
KP- Kevin Petto
Known for the brutal beating he gave to two college girls in a swimming pool using his bare fists to pommel them into submission, sleeping with a mouse name Alfred in a cott he set up in a stray closet in Warren Hills Regional High School, and last but not least, the slow gentle whisper he utters to his victims before he moves in for the kill...... "No words....just emotion..."
Another "Kristen's Friend" turned my friend.......LOVE IT!!!
TV is good especially when you watch a Japanese show with some strange sicilian man named Mel John Chiara.
Naruto has jumped to the top of my TV watching list because of that same man.
I've learned to love the Japanese language
KISTEN IS NEXT
With Love and Tenderness,
Your Sensei,
Kakashi....------
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| Yes you have heard correctly. I have finished my Highschool career and I feel great. Well, actually I'm lying, I feel tired beyond belief and I think, at some point during Project Grad, I went into a steam-filled hell hole that sucked my life away. Steam rooms are evil and they become more scary when then are filled with sweaty men.
It was a great night overall and, after they cleared away all the lame inflatable fun houses, we were able to rock out some tennis. I kept most people on my bus awake on the way home because I'm obnoxious and slightly deranged. I learned 2 things in the end.
1. My only motivation for graduating was being able to call my teachers by their first names.
2. Its better to say "Have a nice life" when you leave because "Seeya Later" is a bold faced lie.
Mr.Swanveld stopped the grad ceremony when it was my time to be called and asked Mr.Dickenson if I deserved it. I didnt but they let me through anyway
So above the importance of graduation is the overwelming amount of Tennis I have been playing. I just bought a new racket and let me tell you I love it. Tennis is the life blood of Champions. Or maybe not
To end I just want to say that as I sit here porivulating. I porivulate about the past years. All the porivulate I met, all the people I porivulated, and most importantly, the words that I made up to try and use lyrics that I didnt write because i thought Carmello was smart and then the whole thing backfired in my face because porivlate isnt a word, but its ok beacuse Mr Gary Dickinson didnt even notice because he doesnt care enough anyway.
Have a nice day!
MOTHER PORIVULATOR!!!
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| BEARD??!?!?
Yes Wormtail...
Yes the time has come. Since my sickness made me forget to shave I'm now on day for without a razor. Rocco told me to trim it up and look at the results. Its alittle interesting I know, but im gonna let it grow for a week and then document the length, then I'm going to determine how long it would take me to get my beard as long as ZZ-Top.
This pic speaks for itself...I think.
Yeah for those of you thinking "Well Golly gosh when did Zach get a digital camera?"
Well I started rumaging around in the stuff that came with my Dad's new computer, and, sure enough, there was a junky digital camera. I have made it my own. It is glorious.
So I just took a shower, but before I did I was experimenting with the flash. You see most carmeras can put the flash on easily, but not mine. So I took a pic of myself all sweaty and gross, with the flash on and this is the result:
Well, for now, thats all I have to say. I'm getting everything together for the senior class trip, but I'm not sure if we have to be at the school at 3:00am or 3:30 am. Either way it sucks
Well I'll leave you all with one last picture. Ill be back on Monday. Have a good weekend.
Your Affectionate Uncle,
SCREWTAPE
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| Procrastination
Live it. Love it. Learn it.
Ok so Its approximately 1:30 eastern standard time and I am basically getting over whatever weird cold I have. The fever is gone, my stomach feels pretty normal, and the snot is basically gone from my nose. With all these things leaking out of my body I start to remember that I need to write my term paper. It's due in about 2 weeks and I haven't even started my rough draft, which was supposed to be handed in last monday.
Since my illness threw me back a few days it would be safe to say that I would be working full force on writting the paper that determines wheather or not a graduate. But no, I am sitting here, in my basement, wearing pajamas and writing to you people about how I SHOULD be doing my paper. Its a vicious cycle.
Its not that I don't know enough about my topic to write the paper. I just dont want to write about Handel. I want to listen to his music and sing along, but not write a 7-15 page paper on how Handel changed the face of the Oratorio via The Messiah. I don't want to explain to the reader what an Oratorio is or what an aria and recitetive is. I just want to sit here with my bed head eating sun flower seeds and spitting them into an old water bottle. I like to pretend I'm chewing tobacco.
Well since I'm on here now and I have a few smart people read my xanga, I will post for you, my hook. That way certain red bearded english majors and super intelligent columbians can read it, critique it, and then tell me to either die; or continue writing.
Well here it goes:
The streets of Dublin seem to be alive as my ear picks up a delicate melody erupting from the concert hall in town. I am moved by this sound, this music, this din. I am drawn toward its source as if a heavenly aroma has pulled me into its unconscious gravity. As I reach the concert hall I sit as if in a stupor in its shade, taken in by the soft reverberation. Above the door reads a sign: Messiah: By Georg Frideric Handel. A Tribute to our Creator.
The night came of the oratorio we had all been waiting for. All the women had been ask to wear small dresses, and the men to leave their swords at home, because they were expecting a large turn out. The small concert hall could only hold so many. I squeezed into my seat and as the orchestra struck the first notes I closed my eyes and let the music devour my soul.
Well thats what I have so far your thoughts on this would be much appreiciated.
Does it get you hooked? Do you want more? I know I do
Your affectionate Uncle,
Screwtape-
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