wakeupsolo
It’s so much better to wake up together.
backHey good people. To the people that are or were my friends, hello. I missed you. How things? I hope they are good.
I'm in college now. DePauw University in Indiana. Come visit me if you can. I am a communications major and I played football for what I think will be the last season this past year.
I've decided that writing is important in my life. I think I was happiest when I would post up my stupid ideas and you good people would respond. It made me feel like I mattered. So, when I find the time. I am going to keep it up.
Please stay posted with me. It feels good to write this post. Expressing oneself is important. If you knew me or know me please respond and tell me how you’re doing. I look forward to communicating with all my old mindsay friends again.
I'm in college now. DePauw University in Indiana. Come visit me if you can. I am a communications major and I played football for what I think will be the last season this past year.
I've decided that writing is important in my life. I think I was happiest when I would post up my stupid ideas and you good people would respond. It made me feel like I mattered. So, when I find the time. I am going to keep it up.
Please stay posted with me. It feels good to write this post. Expressing oneself is important. If you knew me or know me please respond and tell me how you’re doing. I look forward to communicating with all my old mindsay friends again.
So I lost my cell phone. Pretty smooth eh?
Up in the weight room I set it down, and when I turned around the pants and the phone vanished into thin air.
While I like to think someone stole it, we all know its probably under some table somewhere. If I spent half as much time writing this article look for the phone I’d probably have found it by now, never the less…
When I lost it I went into a fit of rage. All of my numbers, my messages, and my entire life was gone. I live through that phone. The only numbers I know by heart are my moms, my dads, my brothers, and my old babysitters number (if you knew our relationship you’d understand). How was I supposed to live on without communicating with my friends and co-workers?
At first I went to the Verizon store hoping I’d get a replacement. I played the role of a young innocent boy who got beat up in the schoolyard and had my phone ripped from my grips. I thought the performance was perfect, but Marsha didn’t buy it. Dang, it would have worked five years ago.
So I gave up. I sat in front of my TV, turned on “the fresh prince” and sulked. Not even big Willy could cheer me up.
After two or three search less days, my anger had grown. Now I was just enraged. Aside from my phone being lost, there was a “Sanford and son” marathon, and I hate “Sanford and son!”
During a commercial, I switched over to CNN. At first their was a Verizon commercial, only furthering my hatred for Marsha. Then there was a sad story. It was about an 18-year-old kid killing the parents of his young girlfriend in Pennsylvania. They said this jerk shot her old folks point blank in the head, right in front of the entire family. This struck me.
Hear I am, sitting on my butt because I don’t have the number to Dominos in my pocket, while this girl has just witnessed both of her parents brutally slain, and some people even think its her fault. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, She’s fourteen.
A lot of people are unhappy nowadays. Zoloft prescriptions are off the charts, songs on the radio are sadder and darker. While we all are depressed about what we don’t have, we don’t take the time to think about all the great stuff we do have. Every day my dad makes my lunch. Every day my mom works extra hours just to put me through college.
I have a great family, a great dog, and great friends. Yeah, I don’t have a cell phone, but there are people without homes, without food.
After the story was over, I went into the other room where my mom was making dinner. She was watching the story as well. I smiled and kissed her as she cleaned the chicken. She smiled and said,
“Uch, if you ever date a 14 year old I’m gonna smack the (expletive) out of you.”
Up in the weight room I set it down, and when I turned around the pants and the phone vanished into thin air.
While I like to think someone stole it, we all know its probably under some table somewhere. If I spent half as much time writing this article look for the phone I’d probably have found it by now, never the less…
When I lost it I went into a fit of rage. All of my numbers, my messages, and my entire life was gone. I live through that phone. The only numbers I know by heart are my moms, my dads, my brothers, and my old babysitters number (if you knew our relationship you’d understand). How was I supposed to live on without communicating with my friends and co-workers?
At first I went to the Verizon store hoping I’d get a replacement. I played the role of a young innocent boy who got beat up in the schoolyard and had my phone ripped from my grips. I thought the performance was perfect, but Marsha didn’t buy it. Dang, it would have worked five years ago.
So I gave up. I sat in front of my TV, turned on “the fresh prince” and sulked. Not even big Willy could cheer me up.
After two or three search less days, my anger had grown. Now I was just enraged. Aside from my phone being lost, there was a “Sanford and son” marathon, and I hate “Sanford and son!”
During a commercial, I switched over to CNN. At first their was a Verizon commercial, only furthering my hatred for Marsha. Then there was a sad story. It was about an 18-year-old kid killing the parents of his young girlfriend in Pennsylvania. They said this jerk shot her old folks point blank in the head, right in front of the entire family. This struck me.
Hear I am, sitting on my butt because I don’t have the number to Dominos in my pocket, while this girl has just witnessed both of her parents brutally slain, and some people even think its her fault. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, She’s fourteen.
A lot of people are unhappy nowadays. Zoloft prescriptions are off the charts, songs on the radio are sadder and darker. While we all are depressed about what we don’t have, we don’t take the time to think about all the great stuff we do have. Every day my dad makes my lunch. Every day my mom works extra hours just to put me through college.
I have a great family, a great dog, and great friends. Yeah, I don’t have a cell phone, but there are people without homes, without food.
After the story was over, I went into the other room where my mom was making dinner. She was watching the story as well. I smiled and kissed her as she cleaned the chicken. She smiled and said,
“Uch, if you ever date a 14 year old I’m gonna smack the (expletive) out of you.”
I never knew Aaron O'neal.
I remember hearing his name amoung the top ranked running backs in the St. Louis area 2 years ago when i was just a sophmore. I remember asking freinds about him, what he was like, but i never knew him.
Yesterday, 19 year old Aaron died at a mizzou football practice.
It hit home today. I spent the day reading about him in the news and looking at old photos like the one above. Even though he goes to a tottaly diffrent school that we don't even play, it feels like i've lost one of my own.
This entry is dedicated to his memory, and to his family.
I never knew Aaron O'neal,
I wish i had.
I love my cat. He is the secret favorite of all of my 3 pets. My other 2 dogs are smart, and fun but they don’t have the same wisdom as my cat.
We never really gave him a name. My mom called him Shtewkee in remembrance of her old cat, my dad never really cared, and my brother and I labeled him after our all time favorite cartoon cat, Garfield (also because hes an extremely fat feline). None of these names ever stuck though, so we just call him kitty.
We got him when I was very young. A friend of my moms was moving into an apartment that didn’t allow pets, so she thought a family with two small kids would adore a cute kitten like him. For a while we did. We played with him and fed him and even let him play with our dog. After a couple of months though, our interests faded. He became a part of our houses backdrop, only to be noticed when company asked about him. He would usually scatter of and hide behind the couch or in the basement, so we didn’t see him much in the day. Of course we fed him and took care of him as any civil human would, but we never really cared about him.
After a late summer night I usually get home around 12 to 2 AM. My parents are asleep but they always leave a small lamp on in the living room just for me. When I get home and open the door I see this.
(bear with the quality I took this snapshot with my phone camera)
There my cat sits, right under the lamp staring at me in the dark house. The tiny light gives off just enough brightness to illuminate a tiny bubble where he sits smack in the middle and waits, relaxes, and makes the empty house his own. He never really liked me. Throughout my entire youth, he ran when I came near. But he acts differently at night. He treats me very personally. When were alone, in the middle of the night, he stares at me as if to tell me the house is his, and he sits in his thrown of light, expecting to be pampered like a king.
Something about this strikes me. My other dogs lick my face and wag their tale whenever you throw them a biscuit or play with them, but you can’t control kitty like that. He has his own time to find his perfect place and happiness. This self-esteem, and independence makes me respect my cat, and all living creatures. Even though he doesn’t even have a name, he has a life and mind of his own.
We never really gave him a name. My mom called him Shtewkee in remembrance of her old cat, my dad never really cared, and my brother and I labeled him after our all time favorite cartoon cat, Garfield (also because hes an extremely fat feline). None of these names ever stuck though, so we just call him kitty.
We got him when I was very young. A friend of my moms was moving into an apartment that didn’t allow pets, so she thought a family with two small kids would adore a cute kitten like him. For a while we did. We played with him and fed him and even let him play with our dog. After a couple of months though, our interests faded. He became a part of our houses backdrop, only to be noticed when company asked about him. He would usually scatter of and hide behind the couch or in the basement, so we didn’t see him much in the day. Of course we fed him and took care of him as any civil human would, but we never really cared about him.
After a late summer night I usually get home around 12 to 2 AM. My parents are asleep but they always leave a small lamp on in the living room just for me. When I get home and open the door I see this.
(bear with the quality I took this snapshot with my phone camera)
There my cat sits, right under the lamp staring at me in the dark house. The tiny light gives off just enough brightness to illuminate a tiny bubble where he sits smack in the middle and waits, relaxes, and makes the empty house his own. He never really liked me. Throughout my entire youth, he ran when I came near. But he acts differently at night. He treats me very personally. When were alone, in the middle of the night, he stares at me as if to tell me the house is his, and he sits in his thrown of light, expecting to be pampered like a king.
Something about this strikes me. My other dogs lick my face and wag their tale whenever you throw them a biscuit or play with them, but you can’t control kitty like that. He has his own time to find his perfect place and happiness. This self-esteem, and independence makes me respect my cat, and all living creatures. Even though he doesn’t even have a name, he has a life and mind of his own.
FRAUDS!
Nominate this sucker! people need to understand how fake everything is becoming!
When I turn on the radio in my car I scroll through my presets. My first on is news radio because lets face it, I’m a journalism geek. My second is Oldies 103.3, third is classic rock 94.7, and fourth is another classic rock 96.3. Numbers five through seven I never use. They are modern rock, rap, and crappy 80’s music. I just keep them on there because I’m to lazy to take them off. It seems that every station that plays new music flat out sucks.
Why is it that our ipods are filled up with music from 30 or 40 years ago instead of modern day music? How come no one has any respect for the Grammies anymore? How come no one is a “legendary musician” anymore? I’ll tell you why. Music has become a reproduction.
Compare the 2 below:
And…
While both are labeled in the music world as “punk” musicians, both are definitely not punks.
The top picture is one of the infamous Sid Vicious, a man whose music I can respect. His music preached to the original nation of aggravated youth. He told his fans to throw over the government and live in anarchy. He was a daunting man not only through music, but in his life. He was known as as suspect in his girlfriends murder Nancy Spungen, who was stabbed to death with a hunting knife. He died at the age of 21 due to a heroin overdose.
Reading closer on the Avril Lavigne news story, she is known to “get all up in my face”. Usually when people “get all up in my face”, that’s a sign that their trying to intimidate me. But a skinny white chick who’s most famous song, “sk8er boi” is not only not in the least bit threatening, but also a terrible speller. Avril Lavigne is not a punk, she’s an artificial fraud.
Just take a good look at the 2. Original punks were plain shocking, wearing offensive Nazi symbols and preaching against democracy. Now they are attractive girls who wear weird clothes and relate to sexually aggravated teenagers. That’s not punk music, that artificial music, made to mass-appease a culture. Hell that’s not even music, that’s just plain phony.
German Philosopher Johann Gottfried Von Herder once said “folk forms can cleanse a culture of those artificialities that poison modern life.” The Sex Pistols were a form of folk music. There music was traditional among “punks”, and served as an interpretation into the “punk” lifestyle. It was natural, pure music that these people not only believed in, but showed us they believed in, by their shocking lives. The same cant be same Avril. Any retard can wear odd clothes and sing about how rebellious they are, that doesn’t make them rebels.
Here are some more examples of artificiality in modern culture:
Hollister
Fashion is just another way to fake a style. These jeans are made to look weathered, cheap, and old. We all know they aren’t weathered, those cuts and rips were made in a sweat shop somewhere in Somalia for about $70 less then your buying them for. This is just another way to fabricate a folk fashion.
Pro Wrestling
These people are defiantly not fighters, they are soap actors on steroids. Their dramatic storylines and staged back story lets people get acquainted before watching them kick each others asses. However, there problems and clashes are fake and easy to follow unlike real, folk sports like boxing, wear the fighters don’t act and the outcome is real.
When I turn on the radio in my car I scroll through my presets. My first on is news radio because lets face it, I’m a journalism geek. My second is Oldies 103.3, third is classic rock 94.7, and fourth is another classic rock 96.3. Numbers five through seven I never use. They are modern rock, rap, and crappy 80’s music. I just keep them on there because I’m to lazy to take them off. It seems that every station that plays new music flat out sucks.
Why is it that our ipods are filled up with music from 30 or 40 years ago instead of modern day music? How come no one has any respect for the Grammies anymore? How come no one is a “legendary musician” anymore? I’ll tell you why. Music has become a reproduction.
Compare the 2 below:
And…
While both are labeled in the music world as “punk” musicians, both are definitely not punks.
The top picture is one of the infamous Sid Vicious, a man whose music I can respect. His music preached to the original nation of aggravated youth. He told his fans to throw over the government and live in anarchy. He was a daunting man not only through music, but in his life. He was known as as suspect in his girlfriends murder Nancy Spungen, who was stabbed to death with a hunting knife. He died at the age of 21 due to a heroin overdose.
Reading closer on the Avril Lavigne news story, she is known to “get all up in my face”. Usually when people “get all up in my face”, that’s a sign that their trying to intimidate me. But a skinny white chick who’s most famous song, “sk8er boi” is not only not in the least bit threatening, but also a terrible speller. Avril Lavigne is not a punk, she’s an artificial fraud.
Just take a good look at the 2. Original punks were plain shocking, wearing offensive Nazi symbols and preaching against democracy. Now they are attractive girls who wear weird clothes and relate to sexually aggravated teenagers. That’s not punk music, that artificial music, made to mass-appease a culture. Hell that’s not even music, that’s just plain phony.
German Philosopher Johann Gottfried Von Herder once said “folk forms can cleanse a culture of those artificialities that poison modern life.” The Sex Pistols were a form of folk music. There music was traditional among “punks”, and served as an interpretation into the “punk” lifestyle. It was natural, pure music that these people not only believed in, but showed us they believed in, by their shocking lives. The same cant be same Avril. Any retard can wear odd clothes and sing about how rebellious they are, that doesn’t make them rebels.
Here are some more examples of artificiality in modern culture:
Hollister
Fashion is just another way to fake a style. These jeans are made to look weathered, cheap, and old. We all know they aren’t weathered, those cuts and rips were made in a sweat shop somewhere in Somalia for about $70 less then your buying them for. This is just another way to fabricate a folk fashion.
Pro Wrestling
These people are defiantly not fighters, they are soap actors on steroids. Their dramatic storylines and staged back story lets people get acquainted before watching them kick each others asses. However, there problems and clashes are fake and easy to follow unlike real, folk sports like boxing, wear the fighters don’t act and the outcome is real.
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