Monthly Archives: March 2010

Bagels are talentless hacks

So you know those days when you really don’t want to wake up and go to work, but you drag yourself there anyways and a co-worker or a boss or someone has brought in bagels or doughnuts(and coffee, of course) for everyone and it instantly gets better because bagels are bringers of happiness and energy? I envy you. My work is full of bagels and coffee everyday, and you know what? The bagels are taking the credit for the happiness and the energy. You that lovely co-worker who brought those bagels in? When she was getting those bagels, she was all kinds of unhappy. The line’s too long, she shouldn’t have had to call in an order for a carry-out order of coffee the day before so we have time to make it, why don’t we have anymore blueberry bagels gosh darn it! No, what really brings the joy is the surprise of getting a bagel at all. You won’t be thinking “oh i want this exactly and nothing else will do,” you will be thinking “ooh, bagel!” As soon as you get a choice, you will never be happy.

So I vote that the concept of the bagel shop should be changed. Instead of being your typical restaurant where we take your order, make it, and hand it over to you, we should have monthly memberships. There can be different types, some for a dozen of bagels, some for single meals, etc. But depending on your membership, you can pick a number of days a month, and we will randomly deliver your bagels to your office or home so that you can think “ooh, bagel!” and be happy.

When it comes to bagels, be anti-choice.

15 minutes left.


Get your bad song lyrics here!

So for this blog entry I will share a list that I’ve made of horrible, horrible song lyrics that I have heard. Some were from the radio, some were from my own iTunes library, some were suggested by people I know. But for you, dear blog reader(hopefully you exist), I have googled the artist names of all of them. Also, if you’ve heard any, feel free to send them to me, and I’ll post them.

I love you terribly I swear that this is true

But I just can’t stop my hands from smothering you – Nightmare of You

Nightmare of You is one of those guilty pleasure bands. ALL of their songs are like this, but they’re just so catchy! They even had this one song, where I swear they got to the bridge and thought, “Hey these lyrics almost make sense, we better fix this!”

You’ve got a monster in your parasol – Queens of the Stone Age

Okay, so I actually love Queens of the Stone Age, but this line raises too many questions. What kind of monster? How does it fit? If it’s under the parasol because it doesn’t like the sun, I hope it’s not a lace parasol. Who still uses a parasol, anyways(other than you, Alison)? Okay, one of those wasn’t a question.

On my honeymoon I want to be where you are – The Ames Brothers

I don’t think this marriage is going to last.

Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids

In fact it’s cold as hell

And there’s no one there to raise them

If you did – Elton John

We only really needed the first line to get your point. Actually, I’m not sure we even needed that.

You are a genie and all I ask is a smile each time I rub the lamp – Phoebe Snow

I suspect the word lamp was used to make this song fit for radio.

My heart couldn’t take no more of you – Keyshia Cole

This is a song that is on here out of spite. I hate, hate, hate this song, it was on the radio everywhere for ages, and it uses bad grammar.

I would like a place I could call my own

Have a conversation on the telephone – New Order

I’m sure you do, but was it worth writing a song about?

There’s a danger in loving somebody too much

And it’s sad when you know it’s your heart you can’t trust – Patti Smith

There are so many heart attack jokes I could make here, but I like to pretend that I wouldn’t make Emily Post squirm. This is another song that is on here out of spite.

My heart begins to hum

Dum de dum de dum dum dum – George and Ira Gershwin

For all of you who protest that George was the brother with talent, I say he should have found a better lyricist.

Those who are dead are not dead

They’re just living in my head – Coldplay

This takes the whole “They’re not dead if you remember them” line, raises it to Sixth Sense levels, and adds a straightjacket.

Christmas comes this time each year – The Beach Boys

Unlike the others, this line is not on here to be mocked, but admired. The studio demanded they write a Christmas song, they didn’t want to, wrote this, and now this song plays on the radio every winter.

I was stealing kisses from a boy

Now I’m begging affection from a man – Faith Hill

From pedophile to stalker in .2 seconds.


I want to reach out and grab ya – The Steve Miller Band

There is so much wrong with this line…

You give me puppies, puppies

In my heart

Sad, sad puppies

Whenever we’re apart – J Bigga

A college friend showed me the music video for this song. I still have not forgiven her for the mental scarring.

He’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar

The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star – Taylor Swift

First of all, someone should take away her guitar before it gets hopelessly damaged. Second, do not use the verb again as an adjective in the same line. There are so many words out there, give them all a chance! And the final fail: it is NARM. (Yes, I am a troper, however did you guess?)

Take off that dress and i’ll wear you like a hood – Fionn Regan

This line is pure WTF. Really, Fionn, you should know better.

And now that I have ripped on all of these fine, successful artists, I will allow you to rip on me. Here are some lyrics that I wrote in high school with Patrick Merrill, Sarah Walker, and Micael Pochat. We wrote them one line at a time. I have music to go along with it somewhere.

A million miles away, I am lost inside my head

My body floats in space, the world is turning

All my synapses burning

My amish friend dropped my lightsaber down thither

It cut cut off my hand so slowly turning

Ah my mangled arm so damaged

Even more than Vader could have managed

I am falling, falling

Great times compared to Tatooine

I did not time this blog post.

Some guitar, devolving into non-sensical rambling, with a picture to make up for it

So I now own a guitar. It is a Fender Squier, and sounds amazing. It’s also blue. I’m hoping that I will figure out how to play it at some point. Today I played an E chord and was very proud of myself. Imagine, tomorrow I might learn a G chord…

Hmm…need a new topic…gah, I can’t in good conscience end the blog post with so little said. If I do, it’d be no different than a glorified facebook status.

Here comes the part of the blog where I say whatever comes into my head with no filtering. Woo, blog post, fill up the blog post. Everyday blog posts may have been a mistake. Ooh, flowers! They’re shedding more petals than they were. Maybe they got mad that I told the internet they were still all nice and pretty a month after I bought them. Maybe they thought I raised everyone’s expectations too much. Uh-oh, typo, got to fix that, dude, how fitting is it that I did a second typo on the word typo, fix that. I wonder why anyone bothers reading the Baltimore Sun anymore, it’s such a horrible newspaper. At some point I need to come up with the next Guster installment so that I can pretend to not be boring.

Okay, I’m sorry for that. Have a picture of the guitar to make up for it.


18 minutes left.

Flowers, Hermits, and Screaming Brains

So I said it would probably be a good idea to make myself do this everyday, so here goes. My brain is already screaming. I really need to get it used to working.

I’m looking at some flowers I bought the day before Valentine’s Day. Surprisingly, they’ve lasted really well. They’re still very bright and cheerful. See?


I like having flowers in the house. I keep thinking I should get flowers more regularly, but always talk myself out of it, either because of a lack of money, memory, or time. I feel silly for saying a lack of time. I have a ton of time. I only have a part-time job, and I don’t do much else. So it’s not so much a lack of time as it is apathy. I’ve hit a point where nothing feels like it will change, so nothing feels worth trying for. When I go hermit, I really go hermit. I come up with all these fantasies of what I’d like to be doing and give myself the reasons why they’d never work, the excuses that will allow me to keep reading tvtropes without feeling too guilty. Useless, yes, but never guilty. I’m tired of being a hermit. I should block tvtropes for a week and see what I get done. Actually, why stop at tvtropes? Cracked, facebook, twitter, and email all distract me just as much. Why not block the internet? Internet might be going a bit too far for me right now. I will block tvtropes and cracked though, right now.


12 minutes left.

Guster the Mime Sheep

So I’ve been putting this off and putting this off, thinking “I don’t have anything to write about” when tonight I finally yelled at myself. I mean, that was the entire point of the timer in the first place. To get me to write when I have nothing to say. I’m thinking about making myself do this daily, but my brain may explode in an effort to save itself. My brain is extremely lazy.

So, I’m going to talk about Guster the mime sheep. Guster is not very good at being a mime, as sheep have considerably less flexibility(and possibly fewer facial expressions, I’m not sure. I’ve never hung out with a sheep for very long.) than humans. The other mimes give him a lot of trouble for this. In rebellion to these mime bullies, Guster refuses to wear a beret. Ever. Do not suggest that he’s not really a mime because he doesn’t have a beret because he will get very, very mad at you. When he absolutely must wear a hat, he wears a top hat. Here is Guster:


The mime eyes are shamelessly stolen from this Calvin and Hobbes strip. Despite his mediocrity as a mime, Guster seems to have a knack for witnessing murders. Because of his dedication to his craft(as well as the fact that he is a sheep), he has difficulty communicating the killer’s identity to the police. He used to get into all sorts of trouble because of this, oftentimes being suspected as the murderer. Fortunately, he eventually befriended Bernard, the psychic duck. Bernard’s psychic energies make taking pictures of him distorted(it’s not that I can’t draw ducks, I swear), but if you think of a bath toy, you’ll be on the right track. Thinking of ducks helps too.

That is all of Guster and Bernard for today. Stay tuned for the riveting case of the murder of the rather average frog by the penguin nuns. Bernard is out of town buying blankets. Can Guster prove his innocence? If he’s put to death for it, will the blankets be worth it? These questions and more will be answered whenever I think of more plot elements.

I took the entire 30 minutes to write this blog post.