Or “S-ED” class. Because it’s pointless. It is. But our teacher introduced it to us and it’s in gym class obviously and I personally believe in God and Christianity and all that but I hate how they’re always affiliating everything with it. Like the teacher’s saying how God created you to be unique and special but also that God just created us to reproduce more children. And it was like “it’s okay if you feel insecure about this topic” and they just totally stereotyped it. “Well, since we can’t really talk about all of this without it getting too awkward, we’ll just affiliate it with God.” And she was reading it out of a book!

Signed: Bart

The guys were totally left alone to eat donuts and drink 7-up and peach juice. And draw comics. And generally run amok. An entire box (large) of timbits was consumed. Inhaled perhaps. And then cartooned, which will later be photographed.

Orlando Bloom came. No really. Except he had way too long of hair. Maybe it wasn’t Orlando Bloom after all.

“Hey, it’s chocolate time.”
“I really wanted to try that donut.”
“No, it looks disgusting. I think I would feel ill for the rest of the day.”
“Is that like bread or?”
“What? What are you looking at?”
“It makes sense.”

Except it doesn’t.

They should invent like half a penny so when you go to pay for gas you can pay like 195.5 cents per litre because otherwise they round up. It’s like $1.96 per litre. Oh, wait. It’s $1.95 ½ per litre but they charge you $1.96.

What’s up with that?

The boys resume insulting J. Beebs. Their snacks and money have run out…

“I think I’m at a loss for words right now. The paperclip is looking at me with his big eyes,” says not-intended-to-be-eaten.

“Oh my gosh, the paperclip is alive. What does it do?” says Bartholomew.
“It’s creepy.”
“See, I told you! It is alive! And look-it, its eyebrows go up, then to the right, then to the left.”

“There I made you a little concoction,” smiled P.O.M. (which had nothing to do with the paperclip but was certainly a little alarming)

“Okay, um, what was I talking about? Right. I’m not saying anything anymore until you stop typing.”

You got to write it down though. (that was really bad writing) Okay, fine. I’m (I can’t say my name but you know who I am) and I’m married to Taylor Lautner. I refuse to acknowledge that I said this. “You kind of did,” says P.O.M. I continue to refuse to acknowledge this.

“Why’d you have to bring that up again, POM?”
“We should just change the subject,” says Marshmelon. “Like to Harry Potter.”

Except now everyone is talking about caps and dancing and people standing around for like two hours.

“Hey there,” says P.O.M. “What? Are you mad at me?”

Oh my god, I know, right? (that sounded better in person, you have to imagine the voice)

“Then someone came by and took it and then…” well, it got to be too much to type. Sorry.

While we were typing, Kaiba apparently robbed Marshmelon of all his money and now he’s poor and…not-intended-to-be-eaten got carried away with the story. It involves some kind of random shooting and a woman named Mildred and a cat and not Bob. Or Joseph or something. It was definitely something. And a creepy vampire and a random tiger. Because nothing is complete without a random tiger.

And now, our word of the day. Which is “derstiv.” Look it up, people!

Signed: when books go bad

P.S. This post is dedicated to Mr. Henry Schmuawfulofagus, who has learned the art of being in more than one place at a time and who possibly attended this meeting, we’re not 100% sure.

Last week we went to C4, well most of us did. It was extremely fun and we all had a blast! There were tournaments, cards, money flying all around. Unfortunately, all of it was out of my wallet…However, the cards that the money bought were extremely useful including one card, that I overpaid for (slightly). It saved my life so many times. In fact, it became my “signature move.” I also got a reputation and everything. Apparently FGD, gives you a reputation. It’s true. I’ve seen it myself. I pulled the card and people were just like, “Whoa, it’s a FGD!” Sweet.

In the 2nd tournament (in the 1st one I didn’t win anything) I made it to the semi-finals. Or the “final four.” There, I had to face my brother. It was a hard battle. In the first duel, the monsters were there. The other monsters there. And then somehow, I don’t know how, but I lost! Well, not entirely. I only lost one duel of the best of 3. Overall, I won the match and advanced to the championship. There I faced “Dandylion.” Well, actually, I didn’t face him. We decided to split the prize in half so it was nine packs of “Duelist Revolution” each. In one of those packs a $125 card lay, waiting. But for who? I opened my first pack and “WHAM!” Pot of Duality — the $125 card was staring at moi. I fainted, nearly. And that was the end of my C4 experience.
The End.

Signed: Kaiba the Tormentor

P.S. Thanks Fusion Gaming for an amazing event!

I am here. Sitting at a wood veneer desk I look through the thick glass pane. I see before me
a wide, concrete structure. A parking garage. Car after car lined up in their yellow-lined beds.
Empty. Void. A vacuous space. Nothing. Not one living thing resides in this structure and yet
there seems to be life. At least, life past. A surreal illusion of our own futures. What lies ahead
of me is a cold graveyard of shiny steel.

The sirens wail. Police lights flash bright red and blue, alternating their roles. Drivers press to
the sides of the paved lanes making way for this beast of authority. The alpha male, protecting
his clan.

Squeep. A small, round, furry pink ball catches my notice when it repeats the sound. Squeep. I
find myself outstretching my arms towards it. The pink creature, which seems to have no visible
eyes, mouth or other organs, hops into my opened palms. I lift the creature level with my eyes
to further examine it. I see the creature twitch and flex in a curious manner. The creature
under my gaze enters into a series of fits, convulsing horribly. With a final shudder and one last
squeep, the small pink ball explodes leaving behind drifting pink hairs and a little pile of soft
fluff in my hands.

“****!” I swear as my foot slips off the narrow ledge. I sighed in relief as I caught myself
realizing just how close to death I could have been. I shuffle alongside the building’s shelf
attempting to reach the North side. I reach the corner and carefully, ever so carefully, turn
around while grasping the brick wall. Stabilizing myself I twist myself around the corner so I
now stand on the North end of the building’s brackets. Shuffling towards the middle of the
niche I bend my knees and leap off performing a perfect swan dive directly into the sidewalk
below.

“Get to it!” the bald man shouted. The dust-covered workers began hustling about. Some
workers passed out iron rods whilst other workers barred the doors shut with them. At the
completion of the jobs a new set of workers entered with a foul-smelling liquid. They set about
lining the building with this liquid. The bald man reached into the pocket of his tweed suit and
pulled out a single match. Striking it against his boot he threw it into a puddle of the liquid
which instantaneously burst into flames. The building glowed bright orange as the fiery tongues
leapt higher and higher all the while screams arose from inside the building. “We’ll work for less!”
came the pleas. With a wave of his hand the bald man gave the signal to douse the fire.
Yet another workers strike adverted.

A witch’s brew is as good as gold, full of power and wisdoms untold.

Signed:  Henry Schmuawfulofagus 

Said the teacher to the boy, “You can do anything you want to do.”

“Can I be an astronaut rocketing through the stars?”
“No, you are much too weak for that.”

“Can I be a basketball player shooting three-pointers?”
“No, you are much too short for that.”

“Can I be a racecar driver zooming down the track?”
“No, you are much too slow for that.”

“Can I be a doctor helping people to get well?”
“No, you are not helpful enough for that.”

“Can I be an acrobat swinging on a trapeze?”
“No, you are much too clumsy for that.”

“Can I be a famous photographer shooting all the celebrities’ pictures?”
“No, your hands are much too shaky for that.”

“Can I be a comedian making people laugh?”
“No, you are not funny enough for that.”

“Can I be a mathematician solving all the biggest equations?”
“No, you are not smart enough for that.”

“Can I be an artist making sculptures for this world?”
“No, you are not creative enough for that.”

“Can I be a writer painting pictures with my words?”
“No, you are much too boring for that.”

“Can I be a model that everyone wants to look at?”
“No, you are much too ugly for that.”

“Then I can’t do anything I want to do.”

“It seems so. Here, let me rephrase my sentence. You can do anything you want to do as long as what you want to do is pump gas.”

Signed: Henry Schmuawfulofagus

I am a Yankees fan. That means I am not a fan of Boston, everybody should know that. (And yes, Exodia the Forbidden One, you should also know that by now.) Boston and the Yankees do not get along. To say that is an understatement. The Yankees and Boston hate each other, this is a true fact. Even the fans hate each other. I think everybody should just get along. Well, the fans should. I didn’t actually mean that. I’m fine with everything how it is as long as Boston keeps on losing and the Yankees keep on winning. That’s almost all I have to say…still one more thing. Yankees rock and Boston sucks. (they don’t suck lollipops either…)
 
That is all for now.
 
Signed: Kaiba the Tormentor

on my mind – soccer

Posted: October 21, 2010 in on my mind - the rants
At last, I finally get to badmouth soccer! I find soccer is the whiniest sport in the entire world…”He hit me!” “Yellow card,” says the Ref. “Oooh, he hit me again!” “Red card, you’re out of the game,” says the Ref.
 
I mean, are you kidding me? If you’re so good at soccer you should be able to win without having to whine and fake injury, etc. Plus, you look really bad on television then. Very bad. Very very bad. Very, oh I could go on all day. Enough about this.
 
That’s all I want to say.
 
Wait, I want to say one more thing about a completely different subject! Why is the sky blue? And why are the clouds white? And how come the sun doesn’t explode? And how come the Earth doesn’t shrink? And how come space doesn’t suck us all in? And how come my brother is sneaking up behind me trying to whack me on the head?
 
Crunch. The End.
 
Ooooh, that’s a red card,” says the Ref.
 
Signed: Kaiba the Tormentor
Dear Fellow Duelists,
 
We have gone “underground.” No one will find us. We are hidden from everybody (except ourselves, we can still find us). Where are we? We are in…Los Angeles. No, just kidding about that. We’re…in Domino City. We can get you autographs from Yugi, if you ask politely. What’s that? That wasn’t polite. Sorry, no autographs for you!
 
Conclusion…we have gone underground. Tune in next time. For what, we don’t know. We’re too busy duelling. 
Signed: The Duelist’s Club
 
P.S. We really are in “Los Angeles.” Hint, hint.
P.P.S. See you at C4. If you know what that is. If you don’t, well. I guess we won’t see you. Too bad.
P.P.P.S. Kaiba rules!!!  Exodia Rocks!  Wattfox…
 Here are two quotes on the human race as a whole. The second is my favorite.
 
“Human nature is a web of contradictions. We are at once the grandeur and degradation of the created order; we bear the image of God, but we are ensnared in trespasses and sins. We are capable of harnessing the forces of nature but unable to rule our tongue; we are the most wonderful and creative beings on this planet but the most violent, cruel, and contemptible of earth’s inhabitants.”
                        -Kenneth Boa
 
“Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature; but he is a thinking reed. The entire universe need not arm itself to crush him. A vapour, a drop of water, suffices to kill him. But, if the universe were to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which killed him, because he knows that he dies and the advantage which the universe has over him; the universe knows nothing of this.”
                        -Blaise Pascal
 

Signed: Henry Schmuawfulofagus

thumbs
 
I find thumbs very annoying. You can’t count them as a finger but at the same time, you can. And so, it really makes up a question of how many fingers do you have? It might be a trick question. So, if you have a quiz at school it depends on the teacher (and their view on thumbs) because they might say that you have five fingers. But you can argue that you only have 4 because the thumb isn’t actually a finger. But at the same time, it is. Do you see how this is confusing? I’m so confused right now I don’t even know why I’m writing this…
 
You know another thing that annoys me? Henry Schmuawfulofagus. Just kidding, Henry. Actually, it’s ninjas. Don’t get me started on them…
 
Signed: Kaiba the Tormentor