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The Biteage Kid

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I love... lamp. [Sep. 27th, 2006|08:37 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |dirtydirty]

So. What to talk aboot. I've really dissapointed myself in the blog department as of late. I used to crank out a new one every other day, and now I've got nothing.

Anchorman is completely the best movie I've ever seen in my entire life. All I've ever heard was, "WHAT, you've NEVER watched it?! You need to! Right now!" And then no one ever loaned it to me. So I was browsing through Wal-Mart (spending my paycheck on various other unnecessary things like pocky and gel pens and lipgloss and air freshener), and I saw it was just $10 so I bought it.

MONEY WELL SPENT. I don't think I've ever laughed that hard in my entire life. "It's an optical illusion. I was just about to take them... back... to the... pants... store."

Evan left a Dr. Pepper on the rolly-out thing that the mouse sits on, and I didn't see it and tried to slide the rolly-out thing back in. The Dr. Pepper hit the wood over the rolly-out thing and spilled all over the carpet, so mom and I had to clean it up. >=|

I'm out of cigarettes. Blaaaaaah.

After a long conversation and relationships and the like with a good friend (=D), I have realized...

...that I have no fucking CLUE as to what I want, or if I even want a relationship to begin with.

I think that's ok though. Whatever it was I said to said good friend made a lot more sense, and it would take a long time to type and I'm feeling pretty lazy.

Mizz Perry is the worst excuse for a teacher that ever was. I think she has a book full of shitty assignment suggestions and she closes her eyes and picks one for us to do each day. We're currently rewriting the end of a play we read. The play had a lot to do with Greek Mythology. Rewriting the damn thing does NOT.

I asked her if we could watch Hercules, since it was mythology packed and all. I got a nice big hell no, because she apparently doesn't like Disney movies.


Anyway, I had a pretty snazzy day and I'm calling this quits before I piss myself off.

Mucho love-o.
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(no subject) [Sep. 22nd, 2006|11:02 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |satisfiedsatisfied]

It's true that I'm giving Mother Nature the biggest middle finger you've ever seen...

But what a day it was. =]
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(no subject) [Sep. 17th, 2006|09:25 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Music |"Roulette" - System of a Down]

I am ashamed.

My aunt's son, my grandmother's grandson, my mother's nephew, my cousin Parker passed away when I was 14, and Parker would have been twenty eight years old on Friday had he survived thus far.

What did I write on the calendar square for September 15th? I didn't write anything. I drew a heart in the corner. A small, insignifigant, plain heart, something that barely catches your eye at first glance.

I didn't boldly state that we should be celebrating another year that he should've had. I just doodled a heart, something that could've stood for anything else. It feels like I'm trying to forget he ever existed at all.

It makes me sick to talk about him in the past tense. It makes me sick to think of something as beautiful as him in the ground, it makes me sick at the end of April, it makes me sick that my Mom wasn't the only one in the family to lose a child. It makes me sick that he was never married, and it makes me sick when I think about how we always thought we were too cool to say we loved one another. The fact that I didn't write his birthday down so that I wouldn't have to see it everyday this month makes me want to crawl into bed and sleep myself into a coma.

As soon as I print this, I'm going to get out of this chair, and I'm finding the boldest marker I own and declaring September the 15th as his.
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(no subject) [Sep. 11th, 2006|10:08 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |sleepysleepy]
[Current Music |"Californication" - RHCP]

Happy Monday! I'm drawing a blank on things to say, so let's just get right down to bullets.

- If you haven't watched The Mantis Parable, you desperately need to. It's a short animation (only 7 or 8 minutes long), and it's wonderful.

- Well well well. I'm doing a Norton Antivirus Scan as we speak, and almost EVERY SINGLE THING in Evan's temporary internet files are things like, "penthouse_girl_on_girl" and "every_mans_fantasy" and all that gargabe. No fucking wonder I'm getting booted every five seconds, someone clogged my computer full of porn.

- The bit I wrote about my faddah was met with enthusiastic approval by most of my Kreative Righting comrades. Then Senor Oliver decided to be all creepy and pull me aside in the hallway to tell me how much he liked it, and how good it was that it fired up a discussion. Uuuugh.

- The 4th Inuyasha movie isn't really that bad. It seems a little shallow and dumb after reading complex and amazingly well-written fanfiction upon fanfiction, but it was pretty good.

- The Nathanator and I hung out today. It was fun, just like it always is. He made me play Super Smash Brothers with him once. I sucked... I sucked like a flaming homosexual. =C

- I can honestly say there's no one I'm really, REALLY interested in at the moment. There are people I think are good looking, and there are people I kind of like but not really but kind of, but there's nobody I'm particularly crazy about. It doesn't make any sense. I'm tired of being single but there's not really anyone I would date.

Astronomy: C!
Kreative Righting: A!
Document Layout: A!
Greek Mythology: A!

- For Music Tuesday, I think I'm bringing in Here In My Room by Incubus.

- Why are like half these bullets Kreative Righting related?! And they aren't even real bullets, they're just hypens!

- I may not be interested in anyone, but there is a boy whose lips I want.

- So, Sean thinks I'm gay because I don't wear sprayed-on pants. I'm sorry, but that's just a little bit stupid.

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(no subject) [Sep. 6th, 2006|10:10 pm]
The Biteage Kid

Injustice has always reddened my vision to a shade so dark it has no name. Injustice is the thing that makes my blood boil until it's nearing the point of evaporation, and injustice is what seeps from my father's skin. Life isn't fair, that's what I've always been taught. What kind of knowledge do I have, anyway? I know this much: might makes anything but right, and brains have the upper hand on brawn. Therefore, it takes next to no contemplation to realize his errors.

When he reenters our home after a less than pleasant day, it's obvious to all company present. I can see it in the heaviness of his footsteps, in the scowl on his face, in the way he slings his keys onto the countertop. The whole process makes me breath catch in my throat, and I know he's brought his day home with him.


The tears in my hard eyes become amusing and fuel his egocentric fire. I know every word dripping off his lips is a lie, a misgiving that he's convinced himself is true, but I am allowed no counterattacks. The only sounds my voice can make are humble agreements to his accuracy in the accusations he glues over my head. He'll smash me and shatter me on the pavement if I do otherwise.

His nametag reads, "I am the biggest male chauvinist you will ever come across," and he wears it with pride.

I have no clue what gave him the idea that terrorizing his children was a excellent and great idea, and I doubt he'll ever tell me. I am young and inferior and female, and I have no right to anything.

And my mother. The sweet, golden saint. Even she won't come to my rescue. She will come to me after the screaming, the swearing, the rage, the endless list of my shortcomings. She will hold me tight and tell me she loves me, and I know it's true. The supreme insult comes when he insists that I do not care about her. I know with every fiber in me that I treasure her ten thousand times more than I do him. Call it cruel, but it seems that daddy dearest gives me those traits.

He tells me I'll understand one day when I have kids of my own and a "real job," but I'm not so sure about that. My child will never have to hide from me when I've had a stressful day at the office, and they'll never have to conceal their inadequate report cards. My overbearance won't tell me to cut my child's sentences short. I will listen to them. I won't have to show my child love by buying them nice things. They will know, and they'll never doubt it for a second.
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I was not the treasure. [Sep. 4th, 2006|12:41 am]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Music |"Truth Doesn't Make a Noise"]

Something is bothering me that hasn't bothered me in a long time.

I feel like a conquest. I was obtained for a moment, for a fraction of a day, and that's all you were concerned with. I doubt you even remember it happened. I'm just another name on your list.

I didn't want you, but I desperately wanted you to want me. You don't care, and you never, ever did.


Best friends forever. Ha. I hope things are better when high school comes to a close. That's all the hope I have left.

I joked about it, I acted like it was so humourous. "I'm just picking up my rain check! Finally, a breath of fresh air!" It's not funny anymore, though. It's starting to tear me to bits.

I'm going to be sick.
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I'm giddy, with time to kill [Sep. 2nd, 2006|04:52 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |chipperchipper]
[Current Music |"Jimmy" - Tool]

Today was unexpectedly awesome. I went to my looove's house last night, and Dad wanted to take me shopping today.

Yes. I said it. Dad wanted to take me shopping. And let me tell you, shopping I went.

[x] Cuatro shirts from Pac Sun. I'd never bought a Pac Sun shirt until today.

[x] Tres pairs of pants from Old Navy. I really needed some for work.

[x] Dos pretty shirts from JcPenny's.


Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

They're called Dragons. How cool is that?

Grace-Face's birfday party is Monday, and I'm going to Middlesburrah tonight (hopefully to Kim's house). I can't waaait. =)

Pictures will probably be coming soon.

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MONEY FOR THE FOOD DRIVE. [Aug. 31st, 2006|10:22 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |deviousdevious]
[Current Music |"You're Pretty Good Looking (For a Girl)" -The White Stripes]

I wish Mr. Oliver would leave every Thursday. Laying in the hallway and having secks is much more fun than going to the writing lab.

"Hey, do you wanna touch me?"
"...That means yes! Go get him!"

I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL SATURDAY! Grace's birthday party is Sunday, I'm going to the lovely Kim's house Saturday night after work, and there's no schoolio on Monday.

Finally, a break from all this garbage known as getting an education. =D
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Ramble ramble. I love Saturdays. [Aug. 26th, 2006|12:00 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |cheerfulcheerful]
[Current Music |"Sugar Never Tasted So Good" - The White Stripes]

This always happens. As soon as I decide it's time for a blog, I forget all the witty and amusing things I was going to say.

For those of you that don't know, I cut all my hair off. Well, not all of it. Just most of it. I didn't really like it at first, I thought I looked kinda dykey... but it's aaall good now. I'll get a peekture soon. Maybe. However, it looks like shit squared if I don't straighten it, all the length they hacked away makes it curl something fierce.

My stitches are finally coming out. Yay-yuh!

I hate Astronomy. I hate it good. Mistah Freeman gave us... get this... a "take home test" and I still have no idea how to do anything on it. Fuck school. Geez.

Work is a giant pile of suck. Stop calling, all of you that call all the da-yum time. Stop calling without any idea what you want. Stop calling and getting pissed off because pizza is expensive. Stop calling to complain that you didn't get the breadsticks that you didn't order, or to tell me your order took 45 minutes to get to your door when I told you it would be around 40, and stop calling to ask me about every single special we have, only to hang up on me.


A lot of kids liked what I read for Kreative Righting. Which means you should go comment on it, even if you think it sucks. Ashley has no problem with constructive criticism.

Alex is totally going back to Ohio today. I think I'll just cry for a few hours and then take my life. However, Sascha assured me that he and I would meet somewhere down the road and procreate, so I might just make it. =)

I lost my dyke pants. Argh.

The End!
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Even I like it. [Aug. 24th, 2006|10:18 pm]
The Biteage Kid
[Current Mood |busybusy]
[Current Music |"Opium" - Marcy Playground]

Beds Are Made For Sleeping.

I drifted into the summer months with lips and limbs wide open, and I assumed that both our hearts were made of glass. However, I found that mine was iron that had changed to rust, and yours was stone that eroded to reveal pink flesh underneath. I promise you that you do not care about me half as much as you've led yourself to believe, and you only desire my affections because I'm holding them under lock and key.

Actions don't always speak louder than words and a kiss is a kiss, no matter how repulsive of a light it places me in.

I can fill these sheets with someone who possesses twice your skill. Isn't that the point?

I want both my pillows back. This place of rest is, instead, exhausting me. When the hour of guilt passes, I find myself grateful for the empty place next to me. I embrace the absence of substance under these blankets. I am thankful for the fact that my hollow body is mine again.

Beds are made for sleeping, and I'm hoping that slumber will tear the rest of the shame from my skin.
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