All My Pics

Friday, February 4, 2011

Polamalu whips his hair

 I WHIP MY HAIR BACK AND FORTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAIT! ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!
A lil' bit of randomness to brighten up anyone's evening. Or more like night, rather. Or whenever the hell you read this. And by the way, I shall in no way be affiliated with the liking of that song, so no stupid comments about that, please ;).

10th Follower! Finally!

Really, all you need to know about this post is in the title. I just thought it would be weird to leave a plain ol' title with no deets. So, I would like to announce, that after much hard work on becoming more blog savvy, I have achieved a double digit number of followers! Yes! Obvi, I am not stopping here. Anyone else wanna follow? That's all for this hour. Maybe more later.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Sometimes I beam inwardly at my own resourcefulness.
So, I got out of the car, drink in one hand, 2 textbooks and a folder in my other arm, pen in my mouth, and backpack on my back, trying to open and close house and car doors. I did it mostly with my elbows. I got inside and heaved a sigh of pride. Silly, yes, but who gives a damn?

Here's some writing for anyone who wants a decent little story with imagery:
    Yawning and stretching, I open a sleepy eye and look out my window with the bright morning sunshine trickling in. I stumble lazily out of my bed, looking back reluctantly at the warm, soft comforter that had cradled me for at least 10 hours. I tell myself to suck it up, and lumber downstairs to get some grub.
    That's when I notice my hiking boots laying on the hardwood floor. They were my dad's when he was young. He keeps them around, because it's a symbol of his glory and pride in climbing to the snow-capped top of Mt. Olympus. Unfortunately, his Sasquatch feet had gone from a foot long to 14 inches in his twenties. So for now, I claim them.
    I get myself thinking. I hear the monotone drone of some chief meteorologist rambling in the background. This usually white noise to me. But this time, I decide to actually lend an ear. "Better take advantage of this day, because this very Saturday happens to be the 24 hour period of perfect weather throughout this estimated 3-week storm", says tall, beefy weatherman. And a metaphorical light bulb pops on above my head. Chugging down a last drop of my very own famous OJ, I yank on the daddy boots, slip on some junky clothes, and head out the door. I'm goin' climbin'.
    A mere 1/2 mile out the door, I realize how long it's been since I've done something like this. I am just now realizing how strange my life seems looking from the outside in. Now on the outside, I have confused myself. I think about how unnatural the bulk of 'go, go, go' in the average human's life has become. I was in the bubble. For the weekend, the bubble was popped and I am free to do as I please. A feeling of belonging yet not simultaneously has washed over me.
    Now I hit a slope. Something lays on the dirt ground (or mostly under it, rather) looking threadbare and fringed from age and decay. I dig until chunks of dirt have been removed to make the object clearly visible. Oh my God! I can not believe that this hasn't rotted away yet! My parents hinged this climbing rope into the ground when I was 6, and no one has used it since! Do I dare try using it to ascend the slope? It's true that I am very much lacking in common sense, but I have enough to avoid taking those risks. I stare up at the cloudless sky, and give a nostalgic smile to the heavens. Thanks, Dad. Keep watching me.
    So, I continue wandering aimlessly through clearing and dense forest, beside lakes and rivers, and make a quick stop inside a dank and dreary bat cave. Hoisting myself up and brushing off my butt, I walk into the wind and toward a valley. Soon, I get close enough to distinguish it's smaller features. I come closer, and I realize that this is mother nature's weird replica of a scene from Bambi. What the - bunnies everywhere! And a doe doting upon her fawn. The grass seems to be tie-dye green, with a water hole crystal clear smack dab in the middle. And bluebirds singing? Really? Wow. I wonder, how stupid would it feel to skip through the valley like a little princess, picking flowers and singing hopscotch songs. I try it, since I'm alone. After 5 seconds, I give a hearty belly laugh at myself and tumble over in the grass, sending a family of bunnies pathetically scuttling away. On my back. Feel the breeze tousle my golden locks. Heave in a deep breathe of crisp, clean air. Get a whiff of aging pine needles from my left. An enormous, mahogany live oak takes a bow over my limp and relaxed body. The sun filters through it's leaves, speckling my skin with light. My eyes close, but the remnants of serenity and pristine pureness float around on my mind peacefully.
     I am having difficulty discriminating reality from dreams. If this is a dream, don't wake me up. If this is reality, don't ever let me sleep.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Don't Ask. Really.

Potential. Quite a boring word for all the things it can mean. Everything possesses it in one way or another. Except for my stupid dog.

Do you think I should have put black bars over her eyes to protect her identity?
Nah. They'd just blend in.
That's it for now.