twitter, what the hell are you and why do i use you?

Everyone has a goddamn Twitter nowadays. Why? What the hell? I mean, if it was all just a bunch of normal people chatting with each other and having mutual respect, then that's cool. But celebrities have it. Like... Tila fucking Tequila and Kim Kardashian and shit. And all the tween dipshits are saying 'omg kristen stewart said that  rubbing honey in your eyes will make them turn golden like EDWARD'S omg i'm soooo getting my boyfriend to do that.'

No. You know what, fuck you. I disagree. I think the Twitter rule should be that if you're gonna be on Twitter, you have to respond to people. It's the internet. Nobody is superior. It doesn't matter who you are in real life because on the internet, we're all idiots and that's a fact. I don't care if you're Michael Jordan, if I reply to your tweet with 'haha, i know mike, them white folks is WHACK', you have to respond to me. It's not fair that just because in real life you're a celebrity, you get to be an asshole on Twitter and only talk to other skanky celebrities. You're being a drama queen. I watched  your show from beginning to end. I drew you a picture. I voted for you. I VOTED FOR YOU DAMNIT.

When I'm a celebrity, I'm going to treat everyone like equals. Celebrities nowadays are douchebags. I remember watching part of the filming of I Robot and as Will Smith was coming onto the set, he saw me watching and he waved. Why can't everyone be cool like Will Smith?

If you're a celebrity and you're reading this, I demand equal rights. If I wanted to, I could wear meat dresses and paint my face like Ziggy Stardust and make crappy music too just so I could make a twitter and be an attention whore.

/endrant

PS., if you hadn't noticed, I don't know if 'twitter' needs to be capitalized or not. Where's my old English teacher when I need her?

not so long ago i was just a young lass in plaid.

I know I just posted an entry but I wanted to add another little one because I just made a formspring for you guys. Feel free to ask me anything, no matter how vile or awesome or mathematic. I'll do my best to answer it truthfully, but if I lie, you can't tell me you weren't expecting it at least a little bit.

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/ohaiwaldo

this starbucks is like an episode of star trek.

I traveled into the city today. It’s a pretty big change to go from a little town where everyone knows everyone and people are all pretty normal and friendly to the city where a woman with bright pink hair in a full gold outfit just glared at me like I was the one that looked like a royal sceptre with a pink bauble on top. A man just walked by with no hair but a little tuft at the very front of his head like maybe he was balding but too embarrassed to just go ahead and shave his head. It’s a very different feel here in the city. Asians are everywhere; there’s a study group to the left of me, they’re serving my coffee, they’re flocking through the streets. This isn’t my home and contrary to Step-Mom’s hopeful beliefs, it never will be. To get here, I had to get on the bus. This isn’t a big deal in my home town but here, the bus is serious business.

We were all taken from the ferry and crammed onto one bus like sardines, about fifty little Boonies people stuck together. There was this pleasant Irish woman I’d taken the bus with on the other side(the safe side) and she got on the bus again with me on the city side of things with her young daughter in her stroller. Her daughter was nearly two and had the blondest hair and bluest eyes. She was adorable and her mom’s accent definitely made me happy. What didn’t make me happy was the child screaming and crying on the bus.

Why? Why do babies do this? They scream, they toss a fit, they tantrum like no other, and then they fall asleep. Is it just a final act of rebellion because they know they’ll fall asleep soon? Was it just her way of pissing Mom off one more time as payback for stuffing her into that stroller? Or is that legitimately how they’re trying to communicate? Hearing that baby screaming and wanting to punch it made me realize and determine for certain that I’m never allowed to have kids.

I’m uncomfortable here. This isn’t my element. I moved from a small town to a smaller town and this isn’t somewhere I feel happy or safe and so, in an attempt to maintain some sort of dignity and find some semblance of security and home, I tripped directly into Starbucks. It’s packed with people, woman-in-gold, Asian study groups and the exact same Christmas album I play at my work. It’s like being in a different dimension. I know this place, I’ve been here before and it’s somewhere I spend a lot of my time, but it’s different. It feels like home but it also does not.

I don’t belong here. I want to go home.

I wonder

Okay so I`ve been sitting in this coffee shop since about ten o`clock today and this is the... fourth day I've done this? I have no internet at home, still, so I just sort of hang out here no until they kick me out for not buying enough to justify my staying here all day. They're pretty cool though. The owner offered me a job, which is sick as hell, and I just realized how much of a douchebag I sound like sometimes.

Anyway, at the lunch hour rush about two hours ago there was this group of older people sitting at the big table across the cafe from me. There was one Asian lady who had the most high-pitched speaking voice ever and, even worse, the most high-pitched laugh. I was really wondering how much trouble I might get into for walking over there, slapping her senseless and telling her to shut the living hell up. It probably wouldn't be great for business at all and I doubt they'd let me hang out in there any more once I beat up an older Asian lady and screamed at her. Of course, maybe they'd keep me around to weed out all the weak and useless.

There's also this redheaded fellow who works here. I'm pretty sure his name is Liam because I'm an eavesdropper(It's how I make friends; I listen in on conversations and then I put in some witty interjection so that they realize right off the bat that I'm considerably cool, and on top of that I hear like a bat) and I heard the boss asking him to do something. Anyway, he's kind of your quintessential ginger kid and I really want to be his friend, if only to have a ginger friend. I'm not sure what it is about them but I'm hopelessly drawn to redheads. Bryce Dallas Howards is my perfect celebrity crush and even though I say I'm not a lesbian, I would definitely I should stop this sentence right now because I feel like if I continue, there's no going back. Anyway, I'm trying to think of a way to, um... make a new friend. Without being creepy. My dad always tells me to just go up to people and be like 'hey, you wanna hang out?' but I'm not thirteen any more, this isn't a swimming pool and it's kind of awkward to just go up to someone and ask if they want to go places or do things with you right off the bat, especially if you know their name and they don't know yours. You just end up looking like a right creeper that's probably going to rape them, kill them, rape them again, then cut them up and stick them in your freezer so you can eat them bit by bit.

I honestly have no idea how I've ever made friends in my life. I think I made one friend once when I was about five and then every friend I've made since then has just been because of that friend. Like... that one friend introduced me to people and then those people introduced me to other people and it just continued from place to place until now. Now that I live somewhere new and and foreign and cold, I don't have any extensions of friends here. I only have my dad and his girlfriend. Char is really cool but my dad likes telling me to 'go to beach parties' to meet people.

Thanks, Dad.

I'll go get really drunk, fuck some random people, pass out on your couch and give birth to a bastard child nine months later. People that go have drunken orgies at the beach kind of aren't people I want to be friends with. It actually sounds like a really retarded idea. I may as well just become an alcoholic right off the bat. Then I can go to AA meetings and meet friends there. "Hi, my name is Willow and I love to drink, shoot up and FUCK. Who wants to hang out? I'll let you do me!"

On a happier note, I have the biggest chocolate chip cookie in front of me I've seen in my life. Fuck you lactose intolerance, I'm gonna be a damn rebel today.

Let's hope my windpipe doesn't close up.

RE: being easy

So I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately; about all my friends on facebook breaking up and then getting with someone new, people having big fights about who slept with whose boyfriend, about Gossip Girl telling young women that it’s not okay for a girl to be single and not having sex. I was talking about it with a friend a few minutes ago and she said the appeal to being a slag is that it’s easy. It’s easier to have sex with no strings attached and not get your heart broken than it is to go on dates and find the right person and fall in love. I can agree with that. It probably is a lot easier to walk into a bar, go up to a guy and say ‘You can have sex with me’ than it is to go up to a guy and ask him what he does for a living and try to build a relationship on nothing at all. It’s easier to be easy and that’s a great argument for slag-ism, but being a comparative kind of person, I had to find something to compare it to.

So I guess sex is like that thing on the other side of the big chain link fence. You’re on one side, it’s over there, and you can see it. Great. You could go through the gate because that would be easy and practical and chances are you wouldn’t get hurt going through the gate. You’d go through and you’d get to your goal, easy as pie. The other option is to go over the fence. This is not very practical, it’s difficult, it’s time consuming and you could very easily fall or get your foot caught in the links and hurt yourself quite badly. But I don’t remember ever climbing over a fence without humming the Indiana Jones theme, and I don’t remember ever climbing over a fence and not feeling incredibly accomplished and badass and awesome, even when I did fall and hurt myself and cried the bitter tears that go hand in hand with potentially stupid decisions. I’d get to my goal(hurt or not) and feel extremely hardcore for it. Yes, I might have to spend a little while on crutches because I twisted my ankle and got hurt and yes, there may well be more fences.

But I climbed it, didn’t I?

Can you say that, or did you just use the gate like everyone else?

Being good at minesweeper is like suddenly realizing you’re a legitimate genius, you know the cure for every illness and you could easily sketch out a blueprint for a working time travel device.

I haven’t had internet for the past few weeks. I’d love to say I’m fine with it, that I’ve been getting a lot done and all that faff, but the truth is it’s been killing me. I’m a great fan of the internet and all it has to offer me so when the neighbours I’d been ‘borrowing’ wireless from cut me off/stopped paying their bills/moved, I died a little bit inside. Luckily I found a few ways to pass the time. First, I borrowed a bunch of movies from a friend.

I borrowed Hotel Rwanda, The Code, Don’t Mess With The Zohan, Zack & Miri Make a Porno, The Producers and X-Men: Origins.

Hotel Rwanda was the saddest movie I’ve seen in my entire life. I’ve watched it twice and I’ve cried about sixteen(I’m so not even joking about that number) times because of it. It’s the best role I’ve seen Don Cheadle in and it was based on a very, very true story which makes it all the sadder. I really appreciated this movie. If you’re looking for something to inspire you, Hotel Rwanda rocks but it’s extremely sad and very disturbing.

The Code was lame. I love Antonio Banderas and Morgan Freeman but it was really sub-par and that made me sad. It tried to keep you guessing but instead of the ending being all ‘OH MY GOSH it was the butler all along’ I felt a little more along the lines of ‘I see what you did there. Next movie.’

Don’t Mess With The Zohan was gay.

Zack & Miri Make a Porno… if you haven’t seen it yet, you really should. I thought it was great. It had everything I love in it; coffee, porn, Craig Donaldson, Lester the Molester and a Canadian boy taking it up the pooper from a lady. There’s also a legitimate porn star in it; see if you can guess which one it is. Not only was it hilarious, naughty, disgusting and slightly arousing but it also had undertones of cute romance so a couple could easily watch it and the guy could enjoy the fucking and the dirty humour and the girl could enjoy the sweet romance story hiding behind Jason Mewse’s beautifully groomed nutsack.

The Producers is the balls, in a good way. Can’t even describe it in words. Matthew Broderick can definitely have the key to my chastity belt.

X-Men Origins. Jesus. Never make me watch his travesty ever again. It was a disaster in the worst way. Bad acting, shitty story line, awful, awful writing. I’m pretty sure there is absolutely nothing they could have done to make that movie worse.

Actually, that’s a lie; they could’ve put Taylor Swift and Keanu Reeves in it.

So that’s what I spent my first week doing. I’d go to work, I’d come home from work, I’d be a crazy cat lady for a while and then I’d watch a different movie. I also had a Lord of The Rings commentary marathon with myself over the course of a few days. That wasn’t depressing at all. The second week was a blur of colour and sales. I’m not even sure I was conscious at all. Now we’re beginning the third week of no internet and by God, let me just say I am over-fucking-joyed.

The good news is I actually caved and ordered Telus to hook my shit up. By the end of this week I should be running wild and free on the internet again and that brings me some hella joy. I’ll be paying an arm and a leg for it every month(thank God I’m a starfish) but all that really means is I have to give up my WoWing for a while. It could be worse.

What I was getting at with this, though, was the point that when you have no internet you get really good at the games your computer comes with. Which reminds me, second week was filled with Sims 3. I begged my mommy to buy it for me like a true pussy. Don’t judge me, I got desperate. Anyhow, the games your computer comes with should include solitaire, spider solitaire, backgammon, some other shit and minesweeper. I played solitaire for a while until I realized I was just hitting H the whole game and gave up. Then I switched to spider solitaire and realized I couldn’t beat my high score, got frustrated and sketched a zombie. Then I started playing minesweeper and my life changed.

You will always suck at minesweeper in the beginning. If you’ve never played it before, you can expect to be fucked constantly. Once you figure it out though and you start getting slowly better, you feel like a MENSA member. You can do anything in the world once you figure out minesweeper. I felt like a genius when I won for the first time.

On a change of subject, apparently I’m fighting an infection of sorts because my lymph node feels like a grapefruit hanging off of my jaw and I’m becoming delirious. I started out drawing Harry Potter as a unisaurus-rex creating a rainbow. Awful things followed it. I’ll just leave you with my creations that occurred throughout the night as I became more tired, more ill and more fascinated with the different brushes in paint.

There you have it. My regression from relatively normal and colourful to...

I'm going to go back to work.

Promises are for chumps, Cumulus Discord deserves to be famous, MGG is making a Halloween album and I found my carpet today

Yes. I made you a promise last time that I would finish that post and I didn't. Get off my back.

First off, I'd like to talk a little bit about Cumulus Discord. I met Alexander at a fundraiser in a little bistro and I'm pretty sure I started off the conversation talking about Hobbits because I got nervous like I usually do when I meet new people. This fellow is extremely charming. I'm not sure if I'd say he's as charming as Starbucks Man, but he definitely struck a chord with me. I went about being a creep and located his myspace through his facebook and thoroughly enjoyed his music for a second time. Now it's about time you did too. Cumulus Discord brings out the romantic in me. I can't quite say why but Catching Cotton and Freedom to Fall both make me want to get on a big boat and let a stranger paint me naked and drop my grandmother's necklace into the ocean. Not sure where those particular urges are coming from. Point is, go check him out and give him your love, and if you like his music go give some props to Skye Wallace and Bronwyn Malloy. These are some talented dub-cee(west coast for gangsters) artists that for sure deserve more love than they have right now.

Secondly, Matthew Gray Gubler's Halloween album? I think this one might have to stew a bit with me. It's not at all the I'm unprepared for a Halloween album or that it's Matthew(that actually makes it about ten times more awesome, as well as ten point six times more relevant) I think it's just that it's something new. We as humans don't seem to be too receptive to things that we don't know by heart as a general rule. He's done pretty well for himself, MGG, so I'm sure he'll get on just fine. I just thought I'd express my mild hesitance. Maybe it's just because he wasn't as impressed with my solar-powered laser grizzly as I was and I'm slightly but not overly bitter about it.

Sorry for a link overload tonight.

Lastly(I hope), I saw my carpet today. I'd forgotten that it was there purely because for the month I've been here, clothes have been strewn over the length of my apartment. I don't own a dresser and that's my best excuse. Anyway, in a frantic search for my birth certificate I did the unthinkable and cleaned. Now I see a carpet and for the first time I'm noticing the floor has a weird little peak and slant in it; the imperfection makes it all the more real. I didn't find my birth certificate. Char is going to be very mad at me. I need to come up with a good excuse in 5.5 hours before we head into town or she's going to rip my skin off like Pyramid Head.