SO EXCITED OMFGFPHIQRBFGIOQR376EFGUOEH

HEY
YOU
PERSON
DO YOU SEE THIS FACE
THIS FACE RIGHT HERE

THAT FACE
WHICH HAPPENS TO BELONG TO ME
IS GONNA BE UP HERE IN LIKE TWO MONTHS

SO EXCITED
SO VERY EXCITED

IMAGINE IT

Okay. Let me explain.

As I'm sure is relatively well known, I am a pretty dedicated musician. I've been playing piano since I was about six and I also play a succession of other instruments, although piano is my main bitch. Recently, I've been getting over my crippling, vomit-inducing fear of singing in front of any other organism with the ability to hear sounds. So far, it's been going pretty well, and apparently I have a pretty decent voice. So, around a month ago, I heard about this cool little thing called Music Garage. It actually sounded kinda lame at first, because I only heard the radio ad for it. However, my dad was all like OMFG YOU GOTTA GO AND DO THAT SHIT, so I went and did that shit.

After we got home, my dad went and emailed the main dude at Music Garage. I didn't really do anything, because I wasn't that into it. I mean, I had no idea what it was anyway, so naturally, I was not able to give a damn. My dad soon told me that I'd be having an audition for Music Garage the following thursday. At first, I was kinda not very excited. My logic was that it would've been like an audition to be in a classical piano recital; those are the only kinds of auditions I'd ever been to. I thought I was gonna have to sit down at the piano and play them something all by myself while there were nasty judges, you know, judging me.

It was not like that at all.

The Music Garage was basically just a studio. The only real lights were colorful spot lights facing a little stage. The walls, floors, and ceilings were all black, there were posters all over the walls, and all that nice stuff. There was nothing professional about it. It was AWESOME. 

For the audition, all the other kids were in the back of the room eating pizza and casually talking. The only people who were "judging" were the directors of the thing. One of them was this big dude who was just standing there jamming, and the other was this skinny tall dude with really long hair who was also standing there just kinda headbanging. I had to play keyboards and sing, with a band. I guess I did pretty well, because I got chosen to be in the core band.

Essentially, shit tons of people auditioned, just to be in normal Music Garage. It was also pretty much an audition to be in the core band for Mountain Town Music. The core band is this thing that Mountain Town Music was paying Music Garage to organize. Basically, they wanted a band that could perform all around the Park City/Salt Lake City area. They wanted really good rock band, all teens, of four or five people; and they're paying a thousand dollars per kid in the band. I GOT CHOSEN TO BE THE LEAD VOCALIST AND KEYBOARD PERSON. I NOW HAVE A NET WORTH OF AT LEAST ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS. 

This, my friends, is also technically a scholarship. To be in regular Music Garage, if you make it in, you still have to pay a shit ton of money. But, because I'm in the core band, I'm being paid for. And I get to be in a badass band. I may be the only girl in the band, but I'm super good friends with all the other dudes in it, so I can't wait.

We've already been scheduled to play at like twelve different concerts and venues over the summer, one of them being Deer Valley Ski Resort. So, if you ever feel the need to go to one of their free concerts over the summer, I'm gonna be there, and I encourage you to throw food at us while we're playing. That's always been a dream of mine.

Why I hate people- 100th post!

Congratulations, self! This is my 100th post on this blog. Thank you all for your passive but apparent obsessions with all my posts, yeah, don't think I can't tell what you people go batshit crazy for.

In celebration of me hitting 100 posts, here's some of the reasons why I despise most humans.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION: I really hate people. I have like ten individuals in the entire world that I can hang out with for more than an hour without wanting to aggressively scrub myself clean afterwards. I'm a huge introvert and I most likely wouldn't have any sort of problem just sitting in my room by myself forever. Don't take any of these reasons as me being all depressing; I personally quite adore my own personality, and writing this post is going to be fun.

Reason #1: My interests differ greatly from the vast majority of America
If you know me, even in the least, you probably know that I am not very good at fitting into my own generation. While everybody else is swagging along, their pants down to their ankles, I'm still extremely emotionally attached to Seether and Nirvana and basically the entire grunge movement. If you try to strike a conversation with me, be prepared to discuss Corey Taylor's penis and such things. And that's exactly the problem. Nobody is prepared for that shit.

Reason #2: I have major social anxiety
I can't be around large groups of people ("large groups of people" being "any number of people") for more than a few hours, tops. I'm only even able to last a few hours if I keep interaction to a minimum, and the only time I expose myself to people for that long is in school. Otherwise, I start flipping my shit. I can't explain why. It's just a thing that happens. Like breathing. Or periods. Basically, in order to keep from being sent to a mental hospital, I spend the majority of my time by myself.

Reason #3: I'm ridiculously sensitive to vibes
Even if I do want to go out one day (which is just about as common as finding a guy with a huge dick who also rubs your back and makes you delicious food) one thing that deters me from doing so is that the outside world is so negative. Think I'm a downer? Try meditating, feeling all happy, then going outside and being able to physically feel the literal cloud of negativity just floating in the air. I wasn't made for this society, with our stupid businesses and stupid everything else. Y'all need to chill.

Reason #4: I'm very awkward
Yeah, I bet you never would've guessed! I'm one of the strangest people on the planet. I tend to make really horrifying faces in any everyday situation and that scares people. But, I mean, that's just how I communicate. I'm also not completely in touch with social norms. I'm a little socially impaired.
Some of the faces I make on a regular basis:

And that, friends, is why I have no friends.

Love is an old dead fish

So according to the, like, one comment on my "March Polls" post, people want me to write about a certain embarrassing moment in my life. Well, here goes.

In 6th grade, I accidentally dropped a dead guppy into the sweatshirt hood of none other than my crush.

As you most likely already know, I'm a very strange person. I've never exactly been prime girlfriend material. I'm really awkward and figuratively stub my toe a lot when it comes to romance; it's just the way I am. And, to top that off, in 6th grade I looked like a shaved baboon with chicken pox. Even with this aesthetic disability, I had a crush on this guy who was more or less on my level of disturbing, mid-pubescent hideosity. Essentially, I had a crush on somebody who was just as ugly and weird as I was, so I actually had a chance with this person.

So we were doing this project towards the end of the year where we were making our own ecosystems out of liter soda bottles, dirt, water, worms, snails, and fish. After a few weeks, when the project was over, most of the fish in the artificial ecosystems had died. It was disgusting, and our science teacher made us clean everything up, including the quickly decaying fish corpses.

When we were cleaning everything, my group elected me as the fish-cadaver-cleaner-upper, probably because I was so awkward and slightly resembled the dead fish. We had 2 fish corpses to throw away, so I put some gloves on and threw away one carcass with no problem. Then came the 2nd one.

This is where shit had hit the fan. I was walking towards the garbage pail, fish corpse in hand, when le crush bumped into me, smiling in all his awkward glory. I think I might've blacked out for a moment because of the sudden legit human contact with somebody who didn't think I was the result of a botched abortion. He turned around to throw away some old dirt, and I kinda leaned over his shoulder to awkward-flirt.

I dropped the fish into his sweatshirt hood.

It was an accident. I was so intoxicated by my pure derpy love for him that I lost my grip on my fish, and it landed right in the hood of his sweatshirt. I didn't say anything, purely out of the fear that he would never talk to me again if he knew that I had put a partially decomposed guppy into his clothing. I almost cried, and I walked away very quickly. Very quickly. 

In 2nd period, he noticed. It was math class, and somebody commented that he reeked of death and diarrhea. Everyone searched all over him to find the source of the stench; everyone except me. I was too scared. What if they could've traced the fish back to me?!

So they finally found the carcass in his sweatshirt hood. A girl who had originally been searching him was gagging and puking for quite a while after that. The crush was flipping the actual fuck out, accusing everyone except me of placing the fish in his daily attire. He never found out that I was the one who ruined his sweatshirt with a deceased fish. In fact, later that year, he became my very first boyfriend. I mean, we broke up after realizing that we did not know how to relationship, but that was a secret I still to this day will never tell him. Except for now.

Old 6th grade crush, I was the one who put that smelly carcass in your sweatshirt hood. Woops.

Inconsistency

As most of you know, I began this blog involuntarily. This blog is an ongoing assignment that began last September for my honors english class. Every week, we're assigned a decent-sized blog post containing a photo, a link, and lots and lots of words pertaining to said photo and link. Now, I do this happily. So happily, in fact, that I began long ago to post on this blog without even being assigned to do so. I guess that's what happens when your school gives you a nice laptop but all the cool websites are blocked; you turn into a work dork and convince yourself that you're having fun, when you're really just subconsciously craving massive quantities of gay fanfiction on tumblr.

Some of these un-assigned posts are actually pretty damn good, examples being my post about periods (which is one of my most popular posts, you sick fucks), and this post about my current life as a band geek. My personal criteria for a "good" post, is the following:

-The post mustn't contain any loads of crap, "loads of crap" being random bullshit paragraphs that I just tend to throw in there during fits of hyperactive madness.

-The post must have at least two paragraphs between pictures. Basically, there must be more words than pictures. I mean, this isn't preschool anymore, this is high school. I know, I'm as depressed about it as you are.

-There must be at least one or two of my own original illustrations. I just feel really accomplished when I illustrate a post. It creates the illusion that I have my shit together.

-The post must be humorous. This blog is technically a creativity blog, but let's be real here; the only reason anybody reads this crap is because I use words like "penis," "fuck," and "cuntnugget" more frequently than I should. Do not follow in my footsteps on the matter. South Park made a whole song about why swearing is bad. Seriously, look up "It's easy, Mkay."

As I was saying, I try my best to write "good" posts as much as possible. However, with my being easily excited and distracted, I write a lot of short cruddy posts too. Like, I have a whole post that's just basically just pictures of Bolbi from Jimmy Neutron. One of my most popular posts of all time is literally no words, just two really creepy illustrations. All you people seem to really like all my posts, crappy or not.

All you people, of course, excluding my english teacher.

TO SAID ENGLISH TEACHER, MY POSTS ARE "INCONSISTENT." 

Apparently, dearest Mr. Parker believes that my posts are inconsistent in regards to quality. I am apparently nut-kicking (that was my own language used right there) my readers outs of decent posts half the time because of the sheer frequency of my "cruddy" posts. Well, mister "I grade all your assignments and I decide your very fate with the possibility that I could force you to fail my class and remediate it over the summer therefor making you unappealing to colleges and ruining your chances of ever getting a decent job in order to support yourself even with the most basic essentials such as 2-ply toilet paper," I will have you know, I am a top-notch example of a teenager with ADD. This assures that I make a bunch of worthless posts, but SO HELP ME, they are still funny. My readers are predominantly other teenagers, and we all have damn short attention spans. Hell, I bet half my viewers aren't even reading this sentence because they only come here to look at the funny pictures which, in my defense, take me a long arse time to complete.

So, english teacher. I encourage you to appreciate all my posts, even the ones I do not submit as assignments, even the ones that are just slightly entertaining screenshots of cartoon characters from the 2000's.

Everyone else, I still hate you for choosing "embarrassing moments" as my next post topic. Go sit in the corner and think about what you've done. Butt faces.

I need a life

I have no life, like, at all, so I made this for you.

hi, we're Linkin Park

And

...wait...what are you doing..

YU

ADISHONAH

MY-A-FAMIRYU

Amanda got jesus butter all over my lips

I'm in the middle of writing an actual post, with illustrations, but I've been really busy lately and posting super frequently is getting difficult. The 4th quarter of the school year just started this week and I'm determined to turn in all my homework and get good grades on all my assignments and not murder too many people. I'm gonna be a good noodle.

What has band done to me?

GOD DAMN YOU, CONTEMPORARY CLASSICAL SYMPHONIES, YOU ARE RUINING ME. LOOK AT THE THINGS I AM LISTENING TO. I AM A FAILURE AS A METALHEAD.



LET ME EXPLAIN.
So I joined my school symphonic band around 3 months ago. I play the trumpet. I started playing trumpet in 5th grade, in my elementary school band. I continued playing trumpet in the school band until last year in which I took a break, but this year I took it up again, and let me tell you something; our symphonic band here is about 8000% more amazing than any other symphonic band I've been a part of. Like, for reals, we're like really tired, hungry, hormonal professionals.

Lately we've been working on this big ass piece called "Dusk," and it's like the noise angels make when they win the lottery. It looks easy, but you have to pay such close attention to how much force you put into each note and every single dynamic and when to stop and exactly how everyone else is doing it and there are parts when we have to hold whole notes for like THREE LONG ASS MEASURES and it's DIFFICULT but it's SO DAMN PRETTY OH MY GOD.

Yesterday in band practice we just did this song over and over for basically an hour and a half. I guess this forced it deep into my subconscious and fate then decided that I was destined to be a huge nerd and I become obsessed with that damn song.

I went home, and instead of doing my homework, I looked up Dusk on youtube and just kept playing it over and over again. I was dancing around the living room like a deranged chimpanzee, attempting to be graceful while conducting an invisible symphony band. My dad was there the whole time and he didn't say anything pertaining to "Stop that and go do your homework," as he usually does. Honestly I think he may have assumed that I was on hard drugs and that it was best to just leave me alone with my classical hoedown.

My mom gets home every day at 5 pm, and by this time yesterday I had been insulting the good name of dance for about two hours. My mom walked in the door and just kinda watched what was going on in her home, which consisted of her mature teenage daughter having what appeared to be a well-structured seizure and her husband sitting in the corner with his laptop and not doing anything about anything.

Then she promptly began conducting and dancing with me.

So instead of actually doing any sort of homework last night, my mom and I just spent the whole night on the interwebs looking up songs similar to Dusk so we could conduct more. Now I'm obsessed entirely with contemporary classical symphonies. They're fucking beautiful. I'm taking a break from being a metalhead in order to be Beethoven.

Oh goodie, illness!

I am rather ill on this fine March day. And, by "rather ill," I mean "You know, I should probably go to a doctor. I'm horrifically sick. This isn't even sickness, this is Satan's own attempt at violently rearranging my vital organs. I can't feel my brain. Mommy?"

That may or may not be a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea. I have some sort of stomach virus shit going on and it is not pleasant, unless you are an emetophiliac. First of all, I hate puke. I hate it. If somebody even mentions that they feel kinda nauseous in front of me, I get the actual fuck out of there. I can't even stand it when my dog pukes, even though she enthusiastically fucking eats it afterwards as if it's some kind of gift from the god of her own innards. So, vomiting uncontrollably for 24 hours is seriously my nightmare. I'm pretty much all out of puke at this point. That kinda sounds like a good thing, but let me share with you the downsides. My whole body aches, I'm shaking like a hairless cat stuffed into a refrigerator, I feel constant urges to brush my teeth, I'm afraid to use my own toilet, and I'm afraid to eat even a god damn salteen cracker because of the lingering possibility that it could bring another onset of vomitapocalypse.

This all started late yesterday morning. I was in english class, and very suddenly, I went from feeling perfectly healthy to having a raging x-caliber headache in about 4 seconds. Now, this usually isn't a problem. It didn't exactly feel like a migraine, so I figured it was just a random headache and that it would pass within the hour. With this logic, I went to my next class (geography) without a problem besides this pain in my skull. This was a mistake on my own part. 

In geography, we were having a counselor come in and give us a 90 minute lecture about registration for next year. This was basically an hour and a half of bullshit. About halfway through this lecture, my headache morphed into a disgusting, throbbing migraine and nausea. I didn't feel comfortable interrupting her though, because she was really into her groove of bullshit and I didn't want to share out loud with the entire class that I needed to throw up. So, I waited for her to make us go on some registration website to excuse myself from the class. I packed up my shit and went to the nurse's office. Hell ensued.

Long story short-ish; I texted my dad to pick me up, he immediately responded saying he was on his way, I spent an hour and a half in the nurse's office vomiting my guts out, the office lady kicked me out and sent me back to class, half an hour later my dad finally showed up and blamed his 2 hour late-ness on a business call and told me I needed to calm the fuck down.

But now, over 24 hours later, I've stopped puking, so now I'm like:

I still feel like shit, but as long as there's nothing being forced out of my esophagus, I'm happy.

My very favorite songs

I guess one could say that this post is a continuation of this post about my favorite bands. This one is most of my favorite songs. NOTE: I listen mainly to progressive death metal, nu metal, grunge, and hard rock. I'm pretty sure there's some indie rock and psychedelic rock from the 60s in there too, though. These are in no particular order. (Another thing; I had to fucking look up how to embed grooveshark songs in blogger, specifically for this post. You'd better appreciate this shit.)

Needles by Seether

GENRE: nu metal/hard rock

Spheres of Madness by Decapitated

GENRE: progressive death metal

Bleed by Meshuggah

GENRE: progressive death metal

Blooddrunk by Children of Bodom

GENRE: melodic/progressive death metal

Out of My Way by Seether

GENRE: nu metal/hard rock

Gasoline by Seether

GENRE: hard rock

Lions in Cages by Wolf Gang

GENRE: indie rock

Let it Go by Fossil Collective (NO, NOT THE ONE FROM FROZEN, ASSWIPE)

GENRE: indie

Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana

GENRE: grunge

Inside the Fire by Disturbed

GENRE: hard rock

Indestructible by Disturbed

GENRE: hard rock

El Negro Cósmico by Caifanes

GENRE: spanish soft rock

Snuff by Slipknot

GENRE: soft rock

Psychosocial by Slipknot

GENRE: nu metal

People=Shit by Slipknot

GENRE: nu metal

Aneurism by Nirvana

GENRE: grunge

Isolation by Alter Bridge

GENRE: rock/hard rock

Breath Again by Alter Bridge

GENRE: rock

Voodoo Child (live) by Jimi Hendrix

GENRE: 60s rock

Fuck It by Seether

GENRE: nu metal/grunge

Quotes (mostly from Filmcow)

"And don't forget to swish-and-flick the shit out of your wand, like this! NYEEHNG!"
-Professor Flitwick

"Caaarl, there is a dead human in our house!"
-Paul the llama

"Even with cake, I feel nothing."
-Marshmallow person #2

"I've always wanted to shoot someone from a clock tower."
-The Cloak

"That's funny, as a communist, he should've either combusted or turned into a giant red squid of some sort." "He's got a temple recommends card..." "Well crap, he's not a communist, he's a Mormon. That explains his need to make everything in his company all safe, and kid-friendly......and well dressed"
-The Cloak and Robert Mitchum's severed head

"I am the banana king!"
-Charlie the Unicorn

"So what does everyone think about cat abortions?"
-Dennis

"Alloess Pewdie!"
-Stefano

"I can't hear you, it's too dark in here"
-unknown

"These are all the little things that make me smile, these are all the things that make life worthwhile, everybody knows the holocaust was a lie, so let's sing about the things we like and don't be shy!"
-A ferret

"Not even my best friend Dennis showed up, and he always shows up 'cause he's an idiot."
-Horse Man

"I can feel my triangular awesomeness leaking out of my face!" 
-Triangle Man

So some of these quotes are not from Filmcow videos, but most of them are. Filmcow made Charlie the Unicorn in case you were wondering. Filmcow makes me very happy. I've been watching their videos  since I was ten, and they never fail to make me laugh until I ruin my makeup.

My life of vocals

I started attempting to be a singer at the tender age of about, I don't know, three and a half seconds old. I think I was pretty good. I could definitely have been a death metal vocalist at that age, but I seem to have lost my touch.

Just kidding. But seriously, I think every single girl out there dreamed of being a music star at some age, usually pretty early on. My earliest memory of wanting to be a singer was at my 5th birthday party.  I had it at Sharkey's kids hair salon in Westport Connecticut and it was fabulous as fuck. I mean, I knew I was fabulous from the time I knew how to say the word "glitter." I took the liberty of going onto google images to find some pictures of the place. So many glittery, fabulous memories.

I mean, this was top-notch fabulosity. This was a hair cutting place. Now you can have an idea of what a glamorous child I was, not to mention how badly my mom wanted me to be one of those child pageant queens. ANYWAY, at this "glamour girl" party, after we ate fabulous cake and dressed in fabulous clothes, we had a fabulous kareoke session. That's the day I realized that I was completely, horrifically tone deaf. As a fresh, new five year old who didn't really know shit about music and half the time still slept in pull-ups, this didn't bother me in the least. However, as the years went on, I began to care more and more about my singing voice.

After many years of practicing my singing (in private), I stopped being entirely tone deaf. However, I couldn't exactly hit the notes very easily. I'd know exactly what note to hit, but my voice just didn't want to hit it. I also could not for the life of me do that fancy WOOOoooOOOOOooOOOO hitting-tons-of-different-notes-within-two-seconds-without-taking-a-breath thing. I was okay, but I also kinda sucked. I tried really hard to do all those fancy things with my voice, but to no avail. Instead, my life was kinda just like;

Until I was about twelve, that is. I got kinda good that year. I still couldn't do that fancy WOOOooooOWOOOOOOO thing that I mentioned earlier, but I had hit puberty. That meant that my voice was a lot richer and deeper and it just sounded nicer. It also meant that I had awkward boob nubbies and acne on absolutely everything. Let's not dwell on that though. 

Okay. We can dwell on it a little bit. 

Ha, haha, ha. Oh god. 

Anyway, then 8th grade happened. I say this because I have no explanation as to why the hell I suddenly got really, really good at vocals, so the only way I can say what happened is, "8th grade happened." I finally was able to do that WOOOooooooOOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOO thing. I learned how to scream, kinda. I don't think I'll ever be able to do a death metal growl, only because I'm a lady and my voice can only go so deep. I really do wish I was able to, though. Then I could go in public and scare the actual fuck out of everybody who passes by me. I'd be all like, lol I'm just a tiny little 5'2 teenager girl and people would be like lol I'm just walkin past this tiny little teenager girl and I'd be all like hello random pedestrian nothing unusual here I'm just a polite little teenager girl and they'd be all like hello little teenager girl and then I'd be all like FUCKING DEATH I'LL MURDER YOUR FAMILY WITH MY FAT BLACK DICK UP YOUR BELLYBUTTON AFTER I DINE ON UNBORN FETUSES WITH UNICORN BLOOD AS BARBECUE SAUCE

Anywho, I guess I'm also the lead vocalist in a band now. I'm pretty happy about that, because I'll get to be all musical with some of my besties and that'll be fun. I mean, as long as I don't have to do death metal growls.