you notequalto profound
©I am tired. I spent 4 hours at the mall, rummaging through all the stores in attempts to find hiQ goods at fair prices. Invariably I relied on sales racks and children’s sizes, with the exception of a crass shirt. It is big, and I need to take it in, although I imagine it will be weeks before I tackle that task. Hmmm.
Mental abilities are doing fine, surprisingly, considering the masses of people and ugly things I voluntarily dealt with. For being a good girl in school, but not otherwise I bought a new CD.
By otherwise I mean sitting at the front of the bus where the impaired in the mobility department have seniority. I do this a lot. Sometimes I emerge from school sore all over, and not ‘cos I get randy in the stacks. I do not get randy in the stacks. It is because I suppose that my legitimate, but ultra-lame “disability”, “handicap”, “disease”, contributes to the pain.
Is this neurosis, guilt because of the stink eyes I receive quite possibly, because of where I choose to sit, in spite of my appearance? Even though my septum piercing may be a confounding variable, I doubt that is the exact case. No way man, I feel pain practically every day.
So maybe in a way, I am one of those who, in a certain way have earned “the privilege” of priority seating. I just do not look like it, because I am a xanthochroid and am very small. Give a girl a break! I am a gimp too, just I am young, I can be the gimp representative.
It makes sense, eh? A small girl, not necessarily hot, but certainly not homely, whom features [pun intended] big blue eyes, blond hair, and plump, pink lips. I am white too.
Now back on track, and the irony is that I said my mental abilities were doing fine. I even had a halfie a minute ago, and I heard that “they say” that smoking aids in attention. Attention to what though? I mean, if it aids in say, attending to those oh so minor distractions that irritate me so, I certainly would not smoke!
That introductory sentence turned out to be a blatant lie. I came to the computer to write two things. They are related, one is scholastic, and the other is personal. But it looks as if I will be unable to discuss my intentions for this contribution to my scornucopia. Sex and the City is on in 10!
I’ll just leave you with this nugget of redundancy: if you choose to have a grievance, with institutions, individuals, societies, cultures, theories, practices, etc, for the love of god, please refine it. This will help you analyze it properly and maybe even think of applicable solutions. This is in contrast to certainly my society, which has raging hardons for the “Band-Aid”.
8===D
Friday, February 6, 2004, 09:50 p.m.the missing link [yes a bad pun]
©Since the last time I updated, about 180 visitors have witnessed this piece of shit. Of course, I could take the high road, which is just in actuality the low road, and pose the question:
what is so fucking compelling about my page?
If you have bothered to read any of the content at least once, you would surely know why so many morons come. I write about a lot of bullshit, employing colloquial language to exhibit my observations and commentary. Yeah, if you do not know what colloquial means, press the back button on your browser.
Anyway, I have a sitemeter account to track all of this, including the frequencies of my stalker’s visitations as well as stupid things that stupid people search for that retrieves my site as a result. In addition, you also may know I use this information to make entries when I feel goofy, but am out of applicable things to write about. Well… This entry is an exception. If you are smart, you will read long and critically enough to find out.
This person, known only to me as 66.41.181.# searched for fashionxcore. They viewed my page a hip, even number of twenty times, visiting for a total period of 3 minutes and 50 seconds on Feb 02 2004 8:15:50 pm.
Loser. Epic loser, and what was this epically epic loser thinking when they clicked the link to sallyupchuck.pitas.com?
Nowhere in my URL is livejournal.com or a reference to a cool mental disorder like OCD or extraneous characters mentioned. Besides, who searches for fasionxcore? ---- EPIC LOSERS!!!11111111
Many people are also searching for badass motherfucker, bad-ass motherfucker, etc.
Hey that’s not me! It is just a lame reference to The Onion. I just like hiding behind the safety of a computer to air my grievances to the privileged masses. Am I missing something? I doubt all these people want to read The Onion…
And here’s where it all comes down to the theme of today’s entry. A site called The-Insight.com, a spirituality directory wants to link share with this POS. Uh…
The ultimate conclusion here is: I AM OBVIOUSLY AN ARTS STUDENT!
8===D
Tuesday, February 3, 2004, 09:00 p.m.hahahahaha
©I have a lot of time to piss away, which generally translates to use effectively and given the responses to this, [I think it will probably be moved to agro soon enough though] I feel like responding accordingly. In this case, accordingly means, updating here. As you the reader may know, this page is my refuge. I do not post here unless I feel compelled to. These are the thoughts that I desire the general public to be aware of, even though a large portion of the general public may not be literate, or able to use the ‘net. Regardless, these are my fapinions.
I think it’s silly that people:
1] Call each other hypocrites. I think it is impossible to avoid being a hypocrite in someone else’s eyes. Hypocrite may as well be a synonym for person in this regard.
2] Rag on those that choose to model or whatever and charge them with: objectifying themselves and thus the whole gender / sex, and with the supposition that they “make” feminism look bad.
I firmly believe, hold true, know, have faith in, whatever, that you, the individual, and no one else are fully responsible / accountable for your actions, reactions, feelings. No one can make you, the individual feel, do, say, think, etc, anything [in this society at least, thank god]. You, the individual have to consent. To blame this girl, [whom I personally know, but don’t think this affects my point] for the way you, the individual think of her, and the supposed bad rap of feminism is retarded, unpunk, unfeminist, and grossly irresponsible.
How pathetic is it, to blame someone for the way you feel about them, an entire gender / sex, or a movement?
If you think she is objectifying herself and women, and should be the one responsible, you really should examine yourself. SEEK HELP!!!
If you think that her supposed objectification of herself makes feminism look bad, you really should examine yourself. SEEK HELP!!!
She chose to do this, she did not choose to objectify herself, or women or make feminism look bad.
She cannot: objectify herself or women, or make feminism look bad.
You, the individual, are the one who creates these opinions out of irresponsible reactions.
8===D
Tuesday, December 23, 2003, 05:47 p.m.enterprise sucks
©With all this news about the capture of a very festive looking Saddam Hussein, I couldn’t help but feel the compulsion to update this page accordingly. This is so for 3 reasons.
1] LJ hasn’t been this flooded with this many opinionated entries since the deaths of Johnny Cash and John Ritter. It really does not need any more.
2] This entry really isn’t suited to my LJ.
3] I just fucking feel like it!
Okay! The theme of this entry is not to critique any political regime, or to write about the selfless joy I feel now that the Iraqi people are liberated. I do not know enough about that junk, even though such knowledge would definitely aid in the expansion of my social empire. No stake = no vested opinion. The only thing remotely interesting is the ethnocentric undertones [<< good band!], yada, yada, yada. Oh yeah, and I do not feel empty inside at all. This is liberation motherfucker!
But what I do know, or rather believe is that Saddam was almost hunky when he was a young man. No lie! Should I feel shame? Ah, I do not care.
8===D
Sunday, December 14, 2003, 06:50 p.m.spike has bad hair
©154.5.80.# sent me an email the other day. Through some sort of hacking, he managed to figure out my hometown [which is disgustingly creepy, and potentially hazardous], and since he has family in town that he is of course visiting this holiday season, he proposed a meet up. I politely declined. The biggest hazard in this tryst though is his [I have confirmation that he is indeed a male] health and well being. I do not want to get into that though, I do not want to explicitly threaten him! He even sent me an artist’s rendition of himself, created in Photoshop or MS Paint. Maybe someday, I will post it.
What a creep. Maybe I will inform the authorities so they can intervene accordingly. Aside from that news, I have been cooking up a storm lately instead of studying. Sure, I am prepared as expected for my standardized tests, but maybe cooking is not the best thing to do during such important times. Oh well.
In addition, I am sick. I tried to stay away from the pseudospeed decongestants, but I failed. Now I feel appropriately distracted so I can get on with my workday with ease! This brings me to a point that I may or may not discuss in a later entry. I am going to the bottle depot now!
8===D
Wednesday, December 10, 2003, 12:47 p.m.word up II
©It’s been a while, I know. I am also quite aware of the fact that I have no legitimate reason for abandoning this b-log for such an extended period of time. The behavior of those around me hasn’t stopped amusing me, nor have my idiosyncrasies disappeared. I wasn’t on any sabbatical, nor was I institutionalized. Well, I am in school, and therefore it’s more appropriate to “say” that I am undergoing a new program of socialization. But that is not a reason in itself.
Faced with the choice of updating this load or my LJ info page that states [that] I update [my pitas page] fairly frequently, I of course chose to update here. I’ve been giving LJ entirely too much attention lately.
I feel like a cop-out for what’s about to come. For what is soon to follow is an ultimate act in deviance, one that exploits multiple audiences and makes me, and others who deviate in such a way look like [a] good for nothing conceited ass[es]. This move may certainly seal my coffin. Nevertheless [which is an awesome band from my hometown], I’m going to
Commence e-death. And I don’t care if you have to struggle to read the text. Bigfucking deal. Click “back” if that is such a grave issue.
what type of personality do you have? [now with pictures]
brought to you by Quizthra
P.S. The link in the upper left hand corner is bum. Big deal.
P.P.S. Click the linksies in this entry.
8===D
Sunday, November 30, 2003, 08:31 p.m.babe, i swear you will succumb to me
©Indecline has been down for the last several days, since it is moving to a new server. What the hell that means I do not know, but what I do know is that there is a gaping chasm in my heart that has created a horrible irrationality complex. The symptoms of irrationality as a result of failure to connect with my E-Town indecliners results in accepting invitations to friendster along with updating my lj on a grossly regular basis and listening to 5ive.
Seriously, I joined friendster. My postal code wasn’t hip with them, so I submitted the only area code I know off by heart: 90210. That place is ghetto. I promptly deleted my account 10 minutes after initiating it when I read on one page that Christine* is [my] friend. Oh, I’m not disagreeing, but how can a fucking website, whatever know who is my friend? Connections, especially electronic ones don’t determine friendships.
* = The one who invited me [for god knows what reason] to that abomination.
8===D
Monday, October 20, 2003, 03:46 p.m.the people in my english class are stupid
©Like I have typed before, in a more private setting: weekends are useless unless you can commit the events of those days off to memory so that you can live vicariously through them later. So of course I will run through the course [repeating words is just so unscholarly, but then again I am an Arts Student] of my weekend for that previously mentioned function as well as another so you the audience can [you have the choice of A or B:
A: Live vicariously through my weekend’s events, much like a hopeful LJ droog does through the documentation of drama by a LJ deity in an attempt to garner respect in the form a friend’s list addition.
B: Mock me for the shortcomings of my weekend, thus mocking my shortcomings. Hahahaha. Remember though, it is necessary to not always invest trust in the narrator of a piece of literature, etc. Which brings me to a point:
Does my audience actually take what the persona of sallyupchuck writes as information that can infer the irrefutable beliefs and values of Samantha? This is of course an invitation to e-mail me. Scroll down a lot for my e-mail; god knows I have pimped it out enough already. Anyway…
Friday: I presumably did nothing, because I have no memory of Friday. I probably studied for my Anthro mid term though. But that’s a relatively uninteresting thing to explore, so I’ll spare you dinguses the deets.
Saturday: I went to Whyte [stupid magnet] instead of Goff Night at Suburbs. We [and by we I mean Christine and I] went to the R.A.T. House. It was totally out to brunch. But we did pick up some mail. Presumably, when some people [including previous tenants] went to vandalize that hovel they neglected to check the mail. Hahaha. Even more funny, or despairing [both judgments may tread on ethnocentrism, but I don’t care] is that a family is living in the basement, and there is an SUV parked in the front of the house. It is currently not determined if the family in the dungeon is in possession of that monstrosity. But like I remarked during a relay of this information to others: ”You can’t drive your house around…” but of course there are exceptions, but I care not to formally acknowledge them.
So after that ordeal we went to a show in a nice cozy, intimate venue that was part of a punk paraphernalia store. It was fucking swell. The epitome of what I could hope for in a venue.
You are the epitome of what I could hope for in a moron.
8===D
Tuesday, September 30, 2003, 08:25 p.m.hello
©Okay, I was just reminded of one of the most utterly pathetic experiences I have had as a smoker to date. It’s just too much to let slip away, so of course I have to document its* epic idiocy for my entire interweb audience of one to read about. This is just so typically me. I wonder why it seems that I am a magnet to such moronic individuals. Pity me.
So I’m attempting to take an intermission from the stupidity that is the mall by sneaking outside to smoke w/ Mikey. When up saunters this dude in zig-zag pattern. He proceeds to ask:
Can I borrow a smoke? While gesticulating with his hand that he wants just one. What a fool this man is. Borrow a smoke? Do I expect to see its return in a form that I can smoke as well? Of course not, since one cannot borrow a smoke. These things are one time use. He must be niccing out so bad that he has become as irrational as Winona Ryder1. What a tool. No smoke for him.
NO EXCEPTIONS!!!11
* =
I do not know how to use commas. And I’m in uni. Pity me with knowledge.
1 =
Remember Winona’s theft over 00 charge at some lame department store in the USA? Her defense was that she was niccing out so bad that she was apparently unable to acknowledge that she had stolen 00 worth of apparel. How patheti-sad.
8===D
Tuesday, September 23, 2003, 06:54 p.m.knowledge college
©So I guess this is my fourth week of uni. I think. Note that in Lorian, uni translates into genitals. Also note that Lorian is completely fictional. If you believe otherwise I strongly urge you to dose up on the hydrochloric acid. Fool.
In other related news: pertaining to fools in schools. [but not the knowledge college]
People who repeatedly fawn over my Michael Jackson [Bad Tour] shirt, wanting to buy it from me for upwards of %%ENTRIES_HERE%%$$ need to get their heads checked. Nix that. They need to die.
Seriously though, I am in a good mood.
8===D
Tuesday, September 23, 2003, 06:29 p.m.of search engines and stalkers
©0o0o0o0oh, this is so nostalgic.
207.5.217.# = fashionxcore.
134.39.170.# = antischism lyz OR pictures
140.209.248.# = teutonic people
63.183.112.# = anorexia in goths
198.53.251.# = accessed my page from a link to it on my lj info page. now frequently visits sallyupchuck.pitas.com and mikel.pitas.com
154.5.80.# = visits my page a lot
24.70.95.# = accessed this site via my lj info page. now visits regularly.
24.86.164.# = professed his undying like for me in a recent e-mail. it is unrequited.
8===D
Friday, September 19, 2003, 04:16 p.m.ughhhhhh
©!ATTENTION EVERYONE!
Johnny Cash and John Ritter do not have access to the interweb. Stop posting useless and sycophantic crap on message boards and in your blogs. They do not care that you are sad because they are dead. The world does not care that you are sad because people die everyday.
8===D
Friday, September 12, 2003, 02:55 p.m.MOB KACK KREW
©Being 19 is crazy. It is as if I have been burning out for the past couple of weeks. But I’m not so desensitized and in awe of all the distorted things around me to ignore minor annoyances. BUT I DIGRESS. Here is a list of things that suck.
You.
I am sick; my mind is melting away into a gooey sponge. Stupid virus. Find a new host. I am hardly hospitable. And this illness comes at the worst time possible. So what’s new? In the past week, I’ve managed to endure:
University Orientation: Even though I am a university student I am still expected to participate in and enjoy activities akin to those that Boy Scouts are expected to do.
WE’VE GOT SPIRIT, YES WE DO!
WE’VE GOT SPIRIT, HOW ‘BOUT YOU?
-------------------------------------------
I WANT YOU TO DIE, YES I DO! I WANT YOU TO DIE, HEED YOUR CUE!
Seeing an ex: This is so cliché. I wish he would go away. And die. Heed your cue dammit!
Missing my stalker: In more ways than one.
8===D
Tuesday, September 9, 2003, 04:06 p.m.balls balls balls
©I saw balls on Friday. I was also threatened [paraphrasing and exaggerating] with the sight of more balls on Friday as well, all within the span of several hours. Did my dream [detailing a sexual non-fantasy with an invisible man with nuclear balls], serve as a premonition? Or am I and / or the owners of them fascinated with balls? I hope it is the former, but in all honesty it is probably the latter.
8===D
Sunday, August 31, 2003, 08:09 p.m.you've activated my emotion chip v2.0
©I deleted that entry comparing turkey to potatoes. I would almost miss it, if it were not so lame. I cannot believe I wasted a Star Trek: First Contact quote on it. This brings me to a point. I have certain proof that I am a nerd. This comes from internet quizzes that I have taken recently. I will not post them. I do not want their haggard looks clashing w/ the design and format of my page. One said that my sexual appeal was nerdslut. No contest there. The second said that I was a Swedish Metal-Head, and that I am a closet nerd. Guh.
Okay, here is a list of things that suck:
The phrase: silent scream, especially when used in lyrics or poetry, that is one fucking lame oxymoron if you ask me.
The question: Do you have an extra smoke? My god, this is by far the most terrible thing a person could ask me. Not only is it such an inane question, it totally verifies the questioner’s stupidity. There is no such thing as an extra smoke. Cigarettes are not rewarded without monetary cost to morons. You better be fucking witty if you want to mooch off me.
People: who head-swim to music. It just looks fucking demented. Feel the groove with another body part, excluding your pelvis.
8===D
Friday, August 22, 2003, 06:48 p.m.gargare = garbage
©Like whoa*! Where have I been? Oh, so many things have been occurring recently to prevent me from updating this measly little blog. Well, I am bitter again [not like something miraculous happened to quell that though, it’s just amplified enough to justify an update] and back in
ACTION!!!11
So what is new you ask? Well after many entries prodding my ‘net stalker to expose themselves, they finally did! Oh the horror! This is not joyous news. What theme am I supposed to fall back on when I have writers block now that my stalker has come out of the proverbial shadows? Okay, I know, I will write about how the system sucks. I will write all this pedantic crap and totally come off as god’s gift to fucking losers who need another hapless malcontent to emulate. I will even start a yahoo fan club where all my followers can talk about how profoundly earth-shattering all my observations are. OR NOT! that’s so mundane Push the envelope Sammi, don’t just pull it around. God.
God forbid I submit the poetry that I [do not] write. I digress. Woe is me. Okay, so I was supposed to go see The Virus this Saturday. But they have apparently been held up at the Canada / US border. The funny thing is, after I hyped myself up for the social event of the season only to find out the only band I actually want to see is MIA, I don’t really care!!!! Hahaha. So I’m going to GOFF Night at Suburbs instead.
What else is new? Well yesterday, I dreamt that I was uh, making love with someone who I have known well over a year now, and he was invisible, except for his testicles [tee hee]. And they were, get this =
| glowing green!! |
Well I am off to compile yet another list for yet another condescending scornucopia of written crap.
* = I cannot believe I wrote that outside of an entry about things that suck. No I’m not going soft. Go to hell.
8===D
Friday, August 22, 2003, 06:00 p.m.type: ho negative
©Is an introduction even necessary anymore?
217.72.66.# = "pictures of my cunt"
216.166.54.# = ?bowl movement? Ammonia
208.255.242.# = cool+funny+ham...shark+pictures
196.30.245.# = female ejaculating puss
24.231.161.# = fee as
67.34.139.# = vanilla cam
This is my exact reaction:
8===D
Friday, August 8, 2003, 02:54 p.m.I’m a germaniac…
©!!!Attention 24.86.164.#!!!
I know you still want me! All I have to do is log onto my sitemeter account to prove it. Fucking creep. Do you remember that entry I wrote where I said that “ I will mock you incessantly, and you will know because you check my page so regularly.”, unless you expose yourself via e-mail? Well, it has been 7 weeks and I think it is about time you expose yourself.
Here are some things I know about you:
1] I know that your domain name is: shawcable.net
2] I know that your operating system is: Microsoft Win2000
3] I know that your browser is: Netscape 5.0 Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.0; en-US; rv:1.4) Gecko/20030624
4] I know that you live in a rodent house.
Okay, well I practically know who you are, but it is just so damn fun to come back to this theme when I feel like spewing my verbal diarrhoea when I’m otherwise constipated.
BTW, when viewing my page, it is best to view it only once. Why? Because if you view it more than that, the time you spent sitting on my page [say, 10 minutes and 53 seconds on August 5th 2003 for example] will show up in my details. This only adds to my belief that you want my pale teutonic ass. Seek help, or heed my advice. Oh, and e-mail me!
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0 – Your Germaniacal gal.
8===D
Thursday, August 7, 2003, 09:07 p.m.bitchtown USA
©I got my rag. My hormones have my sanity in a headlock. There is a Mecca death match inside my body, and it looks as if things are not going too well for sanity. You fucking suck hormones. I wish I were sterile. I bet you wish I were too.
Anyway, I did ultimately have a point to this entry. It is not entirely inane. As I mentioned earlier, my sanity is in a state of peril, so the arrival of this entry’s theme is delayed. Well, here it finally is:
I fucking despise photos that depict disgusting female scenesters, with a gaping mouth that is covered by a craftily placed hand.
Eg/
Is this an expression of surprise? Did you finally get the result you wanted when you took the who is your indie boyfriend quiz after tampering with the points system? Try again twat.
I can still see your mouth! And if my computer had a smell card, I could smell the noxious odours of clove cigarettes wafting from that festering orifice you call a mouth. I am glad it does not, because then I would experience your supreme lameness on a completely new level of repulsion. Rot in hell she-beast! Scene points are not rewarded to those who take photos of themselves that reek of contrived originality.
8===D
Thursday, August 7, 2003, 04:48 p.m.he's an asshole
©Mike says I should not download a slew of Tom Petty because our computer is sensitive. Yeah I am paraphrasing, but still. What a crappy reason. He is just jealous that my mp3 collection out cools his. He does not fucking know me. He should step up. And I know he thinks that he is J Lo, but he ain’t nothing but a damn ho.
Holy double negative batman! What a profound metaphor for my current mental state.
8===D
Sunday, August 3, 2003, 11:20 p.m.the pickles in my fridge are gross
©Yesterday, I did not get drunk, but I did puke. Voluntarily too. Some may say that the deliberate expulsion of one’s stomach contents is symptomatic of an ED, but really come on. My tastes are not that fucking horrible. Everyone who has read those real life stories, from real life girls in those teen magazines knows that bulimia is hardly hardcore compared to other EDs like anorexia. Bulimics tend to maintain their current weight, as opposed to losing it. That is fucking counterproductive if you ask me. Anorexia is the way to go if you want to lose weight and save money. Well unless you spend more on things like laxatives and speed than you would on food. And just to sugar coat this potentially offensive paragraph, if you are looking to lose weight:
For the love of sweet baby Jesus, seek the professional advise of a registered dietician or a doctor. Oh, and disregard the above paragraph. Kthx.
Ok so yesterday I went to this crap ass show with crap ass people. No, the company was not crap ass, but the passers by sure were. Sometimes I loath eavesdropping in on the wrong conversations at the wrong moments. Blaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggh.
Miscellaneous teen-angst rocker turned “punk” says: So it’s alright if I take my shirt off guys, right?
Uggggggggghhhhhhh. Okay, so I am an ass, but still. Some people have it coming. Yes, that statement removes asshole accountability. Fuck you.
Oh, and just now, while I was on the shitter smoking I came to an abrupt and profound realization. It started mundanely enough. I was discounting any streetcred that a person would receive as a result of observing that our North American [and possibly others but I am so damned closeted note the irony] is proliferated with advertisements that attempt to control us Hahahahaha.
Okay, so really one of the only things I truly despise about advertisements is how American norms transcend Canada's and disrespect our norms and possibly laws, but I’m not positive about that one. I am of course referring to ads about prescription drugs. Oh but how can I possibly counteract that? By ignoring it of course! Yeah, someone like me, who obviously has a fine distaste for many things can actually turn off my peripheral vision! I should really be a goth, because goths are so notoriously apathetic. However, I was never attracted the darker things in life, I was however always attracted to LeVar Burton. Really. If this makes me a nerd, well fuck you. They are the best lovers. Just watch the revenge of them in film form. You will see.
8===D
Sunday, August 3, 2003, 08:50 p.m.digi-cam
©Mike seems to think that I am irresponsibly exercising my right to free will / speech.
Here’s my rebuttal:
digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam digi-cam.
8===D
Monday, July 21, 2003, 08:58 p.m.do you have an extra smoke? NO!!!!!!
©I dreamt that I saw someone on the street that put hydraulics and a lift kit on a Chevette.
Fucking sick. However, I did see an obscenely large + mismatched spoiler on a Civic today. Moments like these make me wish I had a digi-cam so I could photographically document all this silliness.
I think I have the mystery virus that has infected the R.A.T. House people. I am going to fucking sue all of you. No lie. Give me all your recyclables and we will call it even.
Okay, I am joking [except about the recyclables, I need $$$ for school] but seriously. One of the lamest things ever is people victimizing themselves because they irresponsibly exercise their own free will. I should specify, but fuck that. If you don’t get what I’m alluding [rather poorly] to at all, promptly mix some ammonia and bleach and inhale the sweet fumes of death.
-x0x0x0x0x sammi.
8===D
Monday, July 21, 2003, 06:41 p.m....the most valuable treasure... your heart
©Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a porn called:
All banal Action?
God. Straight up vanilla shit for the entire duration. It would be golden, but definitely not showeringly golden.
8===D
Monday, July 14, 2003, 11:10 p.m.no exceptions
©Obviously, I have a lot of free time on my hands, especially considering my last contribution to this chronicle of bullshit. Though I do not appear to have as much free time on my hands as my sly little stalker 24.86.164.#. I know you want me.
Anyway, I have some new entries planned out, although they may never make it into existence. At least I have aspirations. Here are the tentative titles:
The social benefits of smoking
diction issue 2
I’ll probably mod my layout soon since I am absolutely certain 24.86.164.# is thoroughly sick of it.
8===D
Monday, July 7, 2003, 10:45 p.m.bahahahaha
©I'm at Ground Zero. More to come later. End transmission.
8===D
Saturday, July 5, 2003, 02:35 p.m.diction
©Mecca - Used as a prefix to denote ultimate status. Higher than mega, ultra, etc, often used in conjunction with words like: lame or patheti-sad .
Eg/ That vehicle is Mecca lame.
Patheti-sad - Stronger form of pathetic or sad. This word assumes that pathetic and sad are synonymous in its usage. Denotes particularly ultimate pitiful-ness.
Eg/ That beastly cro-mag girl is so patheti-sad.
* = Because New Speak and Nadstat are so passé.
Racist [as well as its derivatives] - Often misused and abused. Most commonly used as an insult to describe one or a group who is believed to be racist [prejudice based upon race]
Why I think this is a stupid “word”: This word is so nauseatingly colloquial that it’s meaning has been perverted into a throw-away, cop-out insult. It is too ambiguous to accurately describe the many racial based prejudices. Using the word ethnocentric makes much more sense. Not only is ethnocentric often synonymous with racist in its actual use, it is more concretely defined. It cannot be as easily misused. The improper usage of the word racist really annoys me, and is a huge issue that cannot be easily discussed in a limited amount of time. [I’m having dinner soon].
“Like Whoa” – Often used by pretentiously pompous scenesters. Definition unknown since I do not associate with people who use this. The reason is obvious.
Why I think this is a stupid “word”: If I even have to explain why this blows, you’re on the wrong site, in that case never ever come again.
* = Meh.
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Wednesday, July 2, 2003, 06:01 p.m.trite
©I just came home from work. Some teenage guy ordered a foot-long with breasts. I tried so hard to swallow the laughter that welled up in me. Luckily, I succeeded. The final order was a turkey breast sub. I did not know that sexual desire could be manifested in subs.
Anyway, I have more disgustingly shitty things that various fucktards searched under that retrieved my site as a result. The real question is; why do they visit my page? God isn’t obvious that there aren’t any naked pictures of me female-ejaculating on my page? Good god. On with the spew.
my 8 years old neighbors [sic] daughter took my cum
eat my cumX2
female cum
mom eat my cum WTF?!!?!?!
Good gravy. I am obsessed.
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Wednesday, July 2, 2003, 04:59 p.m.©
Have I ever mentioned that I love cheese? Well I do, almost more than I love Jesus. When I get my birthday money, or a big-fat paycheck I am going on a cheese run. I am going to buy:
Brie
Camembert
Gouda
Goat cheese [what specific kind I do not know]
Ricotta
And maybe some Maytag, because I hear that stuff is soOoOoO good.
My god, I think I am Steve Urkel. Someday I will get my Laura Winslow, but before that, I will make a swanky clone of myself. Her name will be Samantha, pronounced SAW-mawn-tha. We will feud for Laura’s affections, but eventually I will win, because I am the underdog. Think of the tomfoolery!
Here are some more funny things that people searched for, that got my page as a result:
cum love
sip phone cum normal telephone
+cum +paper +stain
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Wednesday, July 2, 2003, 08:22 a.m.1 krunt = fruit
©my god 12 pages of Far Side goodness, Photoshop Phriday style.
*creams*
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Tuesday, July 1, 2003, 10:14 p.m.n/a
©Things I hate:
1 ply toilet paper
Gum crackers
People who seem to lack peripheral vision
Kitsch.
Things I like:
TMS – teenage mom syndrome
Mockery
Drinking on weekends
Being a bit too comfortable while in the presence of others.
I have to go to work. I want my job to disintegrate. I hate working.
Quick edit.
I checked my sitemeter again. Here are some phrases that people searched under that got this site as a result. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
sinbad tight belts
legolas cum
how to get out cum stain
michelin bobble head X500
Bahahahahahaha!!!
8===D
Monday, June 30, 2003, 08:53 a.m.babel bobble
©I woke up around 6am today. Still in a drug-induced haze from the pills, I took to knock me out yesterday evening. It was a swell sleep, deep and dreamless. I went to school to check my final exam mark this morning. I got 100% because I am the remedial math queen so I treated myself to Pepsi and a cigarette. Hell, I do that several times a day everyday. I am still special though.
I came home and got straight to doing dick all as per usual. Not only am I the remedial math queen, I am also the lay-about queen.
I am debating whether or not to make a new layout. I’m certain that faithful readers of my page like my good friend 24.86.164.# would appreciate a new layout. By the way you huge lurker, what on my page did you find so fascinating that you decided to stay on for 15 minutes last evening? It is not like there is an immense amount of content. Did you dissect everything I wrote? Weirdo.
In case you’re curious 24.86.164.# I’m going to paint my room again soon. Even sooner, I am going to get up and go piss. However, before that I am going to say, rather type:
God, get a life, you are more patheti-sad than I am.
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Monday, June 23, 2003, 09:56 a.m.cuntxcore
©These ‘net surveys are ultimately more indicative of one’s arrogance and laziness than they are of one’s personality. I am arrogant and lazy. Eat my ass.
If I were a month, I would be: A late summer early fall month. So grunge.
If I were a day of the week, I would be: Wednesday, hump day.
If I were a time of day, I would be: Dusk, hump time.
If I were a planet, I would be: That is a toughie. I used have a stake in astronomy, and cannot reasonably choose one planet over another because of their equally defined characteristics. Mars or Venus I suppose, assuming the question is in relation to the planets of our solar system.
If I were a sea animal, I would be: A dugong. No really, I guess an octopus or hammerhead shark.
If I were a direction, I would be: South southwest.
If I were a piece of furniture, I would be: A hide-a-bed.
If I were a sin, I would be: Vengeance.
If I were a historical figure, I would be: I’d rather be my own historical figure.
If I were a liquid, I would be: Able to flow.
If I were a tree, I would be: Deciduous. So romantic.
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: A pansy.
If I were a kind of weather, I would be: Stupidly phrased question. A hurricane.
If I were a musical instrument, I would be: An electric guitar.
If I were an animal, I would be: A tiger.
If I were a colour, I would be: Fecal matter brown.
If I were a vegetable, I would be: A tomato. Hahaha.
If I were a sound, I would be: A wet fart, with a side of sloppy kiss.
If I were an element, I would be: Fire.
If I were a car, I would be: A barracuda.
If I were a song, I would be: Pshhhh.
If I were a food, I would be: Garlic. How I love thee.
If I were a place, I would be: A spiritually symbolic mountain in South America.
If I were a material, I would be: Velour. How I love thee.
If I were a taste, I would be: Garlic. How I love thee.
If I were a scent, I would be: Musk.
If I were a word, I would be: Mockery, or coinage.
If I were an object, I would be: A woman.
If I were a body part, I would be: Psssh.
If I were a facial expression, I would be: A “Scoff”.
If I were a cartoon character, I would be: George Costanza in sexy female form.
If I were a shape, I would be a: Shape shmape. I want to be the golden ratio.
If I were a number, I would be: 38.
8===D
Sunday, June 22, 2003, 03:55 p.m.sallyupchuck@hotmail.com - e-mail me!!
©I am still nerd-ing it up. Isn’t obvious? I do not feel like playing Chrono-Cross, reading back issues of gaming-mags. Or even masturbating to Celtic Frost in my parent’s basement, I mean my suite.
I missed the companionship of the stale glow from my monitor’s screen. I missed my pitas page even more. It is much better than my LJ.
There are definite things that I do not miss though. I do not miss logging into my site meter account to find a slough of crap. I do find “a slough of crap” on every occasion that I study my statistics (previous sentence, written by Chuck).
It is sick. Either some nut is searching for Michelin Bobble-Heads, [hahahahaha I fucked you again!], porn. Or some knob is on my page reading the crap that I subject my impressionable viewing audience to for an obscene amount of time. Do not expect me to respect you if you are on for so long. Unless it is your first time, then thanks for the flattery. Dork.
Segue- I am going to make a [small] list of various I.P. addresses and the corresponding applicable information + a little rant from me.
Why? It is simple, it is because these people are indeed distinctly special and worth some recognition, however meagre and demeaning it may be.
Enjoy you creepy, creepy people.
1] 198.53.246.# On today for 35 minutes and 45 seconds starting at 9:42pm.
Who are you????!111 You were spotted on my page several times in recent history. Creep. E-mail me. sallyupchuck@yahoo.ca. Do not expect me to send pictures of my cunt to you either. Do not worry though; I am actually a big [well petite] softy. Creep.
2] 24.86.164.# Checks my page a lot.
Tool. I have reasonable suspicion of your actual identity. I know you use Mozilla. You are either Christine [I <3 U] or a creep who lives in a house. E-mail me, and expose yourself or fear my wrath. I will mock you incessantly, and you will know because you check my page so regularly. Tool.
3] 151.197.185.# Searched for fashionxcore and didn’t even stay on my page for a minute
I don’t even think that I have to explain why this person is a knob. If I do, feel free to e-mail me at sallyupchuck@hotmail.com.
4] These people [24.35.92.#, 66.222.156.#, 204.69.4.#, 217.44.237.#206.107.223.#] are grouped together because they all searched for phrases with the word “cum” in them. Some searched under:
cum ea, cum on kid shoes ,cum mask and the perennially popular cum stain.
All I have to say is that I love the title of my page. Pervos.
I feel like a pussy for feeling the need to write this shit, but it is my damn conscience. If you are a member of the previously mentioned impressionable viewing audience who finds themselves seriously offended by the above content I believe you have several choices:
A] Never visit my page again. I will not miss you, but I certainly will appreciate it if you decide to visit again.
B] Write me a kindly expressive e-mail detailing your thoughts on my entry.
P.S. This entry was in jest, mostly.
8===D
Saturday, June 21, 2003, 11:26 p.m.n/a
©Whoa. It has been so long and unfortunately, I really do not
How early 90’s.
I am tired and sick of almost everything I have met in recent history. Anyway, nothing is new, nothing that is discussable in a semi-public forum at least.
Suckers.
Yesterday I met Christine. We ate, got drunk. I tried ever so coyly to hit on someone and failed miserably. We went back to her place I got drunk again and ate even more. I glutton-ed out .hard.core. I left. Woke up, went to lame-ass FNB. Ate, smoked [not necessarily in that order] and left again.
I met Christine again because only she understands my inner pain. The pain that resonates throughout my weather-beaten body, the pain that keeps me in a semi-vegetative emotional state, for the purpose of gleeful spite, the pain that prevents me from feeling a modicum of joy or passion, the pain that only she understands.
P.S. if you thought that the above angst-filled rant was indeed sincere you are either:
A: Unknowing of my true personality [Which is okay, this site is only a biased interpretation of my peripheral thoughts.]
B: Completely fucktarded and should be sterilized immediately.
I am tired and intolerant. I am going to bed.
