Lax bros

I hate people.

Not just all people-
People who pretend to be lax bros.

I hate bitches who wear lax pinnies to school and/or out of their house and do not play the sport. I hate that people wear high socks with high tops when they go outside. I hate that pinnies in general have become a fashion staple at the Jersey Shore. I hate when people look ridiculous.

God damnit, put the lacrosse apparel away. We KNOW it's the coolest sport around - if you want to become a part of it, go ahead and join the damn team.

WYLIN

The reverend from Florida who announced that he would be burning Qur'ans on September 11th is today's Asshole of the Day. And here's why.

Terry Jones has another thing coming to him. Ten bucks says that he knew damn well that Pakistan and other countries with Muslim majorities would be ready to attack America at a moment's notice if he went through with his cowardly burning. Ten MORE bucks says that he was using this plot to blackmail the imam into relocating the NYC mosque. [On a side note, who the hell is he to decide what goes down in New York City? You live in freaking Florida. Don't be mad because the only people in your cities are the Kardashian sisters and the cast of the Jersey Shore!] This whole story seems fishy to me, honestly, but I'm glad about the outcome.

FBI officials are saying that if the burning had occurred on 9/11, we would have been in serious danger of a hateful and spiteful attack. What does this mean for the security of our country? Can the NYC mosque show a loving hand towards the angry countries in the Middle East?

Lastly, do I think that the Afghans who yelled "Death to Christians" are justified at all? Absolutely not. In fact, my family is Christian, and though I do not believe many words in the Bible, I found that to be offensive. Any hate of that caliber is scary, unethical, and sad. Those who hate Islam and Muslims hate themselves.

Sleep tight, children, don't let the angry pastors bite.

Things I learned this summer from re-posting all my summer pictures:

1. Take your camera everywhere. Moments must be recorded.
2. Never, ever forget what you really love.
3. Don't settle for a boring outfit. If you don't feel cool, you don't look cool.
4. When in doubt, jump in the pool.
5. My friends are the most beautiful people.


I think it wasn't such a bad summer after all.. Merely a summer of small and steady changes.

Uh, no

I have come to really be annoyed by The Beatles. No one only needs love. If you love something and you have nothing to show for it, then who cares? Same goes for a person - If you love them, and that's it, then... whatever. Come on, British wankers, stop hittin' the bong and look into real life.


Oh wait they're dead. Oops.

Having Fun

I sat on my bed crying for about 20 minutes just now, which is really rare for me [because usually I end up screaming or finding a song to put on that soothes my nerves]. But today there are none of those songs to be found. Before we get emotional, the reason for my tears was as follows:
I like to set goals for myself. When I do set goals, I like to think that I will stop at nothing to accomplish them. For example: lacrosse recruiting. I haven't stopped this process for 1 1/2 years, and it's still not over to this day. Anyways; I wrap my entire life around the most important goals, scheduling my life accordingly. This summer was all about lacrosse, and all about finding a college that's going to be the best fit. It was also about making money for my senior year, so I worked nearly every day (or at least 5 days a week!) to get there.. or so I thought.

Tell 'em why you SAD, part one:
1. I'm turnin' out to be broke as hell. How did this happen, you ask? I ask myself the same question. I think it's because I thought that by having money, I could buy my friend things or pay for ice cream/food outings.. when in reality, I should have given myself a break from all that. I have barely anything to show for all these hours worked, but I'm going to deposit as much $$ as I can until the end of work.

I've managed to become extremely disinterested in repeating the woes of my summer, especially because my poor twin brother had to listen to me scream them at him just a few minutes ago. No wonder he went up the street to cut someone's lawn.

Oh well. 4 days.

Stupid

In short, I believe that Dwayne Carter (Aka, Lil Wayne) should not be freed from his imprisonment. If I see another Facebook status or gaudy t-shirt saying "FREE WEEZY" I will actually, truthfully kill someone. I'm convinced that Wayne is American's worst role model and hopefully doing jail time will open his eyes. Because seriously, anyone who can stand the taste of cough syrup in very large doses NEEDS some life assistance. (That shit is abso-freakin-lutely disgusting!)

BP, you suck

I thought it was utterly hilarious when my Parental Control: Overtly Gay Edition viewing session was interrupted yesterday. (The fact that these guys' eyebrows look MUCH better than mine was starting to get overwhelming so the commercial came at the perfect time)

The Gulf Coast of Mississippi has released a new tourism commercial to try and promote their once-beautiful beaches & marshy wetlands. If you have been sitting in a cold, dirty cave for a few months, said commercial would seem completely appealing. Imagine: warm climate, rich culture, Southern hospitality.. It sounds incredible! BP thinks so too, but then again, who cares about them. Anyways -- the advertisement is very good, but come on, Mississippi, we're not dumb here.

On another note, I really would love to visit the Gulf Coast sometime. I've always wanted to see New Orleans for its rich French traditions and language components, but also to help out with everyone that's still struggling down there. I get that there are lots of shitty things happening all over the world, Mr. President, but don't forget about the ones on our own soil that are still struggling. What happened to Haiti? Where did they go? They're still a country, United Nations, come on and help a brotha out!


Anyyyyways, getting way off track. It's been a stressful few weeks and I'm still angry. (Hence the "tell 'em why you mad" spiels every day)

Peace and love, bitches.

WTF, USHER

Usher's new song (with the title making absolutely zero sense) is catchy but frightening. In said tune, he repeats two things that turn me off immediately.

1. "This ain't cheatin' as long as we tell nobody."
Usher, that is the most insincere and whore-baggish thing to say in a song. If that were me you were singing about, your ass would be dead meat. To be fed to Jay-Z.
2. "Your body is my hobby"
Dude, seriously, that is absurd. If you have nothing better to do in your life than to get with girls, you're setting yourself up for failure. Plus, how creepy is that? Again, putting myself in the female's perspective here: if someone said that to me I would run as fast as my skinny (yet muscular!) legs could carry me and GTFO.

R.I.P good R&B jams

Arulpragasm 8/8/10

After reading the Spin Magazine article about M.I.A, or as I like to call her, Maya Arulpragasm, I fell even more deeply in love with her. Infatuated by her mysterious last name, graphic designer intuition, and love for candy-colored lipstick, I immediately connected with her style. Since her 2007 release of Kala, cutely named after her mother, I've been so into her (for lack of better words). Her pop-art graphic style is one that could easily be established on skateboards and surfboards, countless high-fashion outfit combinations, and, sensibly enough, album covers. I actually noticed this flawless combination of eclectic objects early on her Kala CD and hoped that she would create a clothing line -- which I hear she has done. (If only the tanktops weren't $65...) Her makeup is flawless, between her first Spin cover with her seafoam green lip(s) and her perfectly lined eyes. Hair always looks great, no matter what color or style, and I really do believe Maya's pregnant black-clad body onstage last year was setting a trend.

Fashion and appearance covered. My grade? A+. (Can YOU rock a sailor's hat? Probably not.)
But let's talk about M.I.A. from a political standpoint - one that often causes controversy in the media. Maya comes from a war-torn country called Sri Lanka. She and her family escaped to Britain after her father started an anti-Tamil group and was sought after by the violent government. After countless encounters and scares, though always seeking peace, they became refugees. In many of her lesser-known songs, Maya refers to her country and the hardships she personally faced - ones that have shaped her image permanently. This is no "my neighbor got shot in a drive by" rap song -- it is a story about $20 buying someone a peaceful home, or about boys fishing for their dinner in a filthy river. Granted, these issues are not on the same scale, but they are extremely significant when you have nothing at all to your name. M.I.A. takes these personal tragedies, adds a funkadelic beat to them, and makes them instant hits - ones that I enjoy dancing and singing to on the reg.

I may have to wrap up this review of how much I adore M.I.A because it could really last way too long... And I only have 4 1/2 hours left of work. (Only! Ha! Shoot me.) In the end, though, I will say - do not buy or download her new album because it is pop-crap, but if you really want to get into this beautiful woman's political saga, listen to her first two CDs. The first is named after her father Arular (2004) and the second after her mother Kala (2007).

.......Yeah man!

Current Events Aug. 4th, 2010

Here are some things I'm NOT mad about:

Today in California, Judge Vaughn Walker will decided whether or not Proposition 8 will be banned in the state of California. Prop 8 says that gay marriage is illegal in the state of CA. It would be deemed unconstitutional because it creates classes of people that are not all treated as equals. Reversing the bill would be HISTORIC and super duper exciting.

One of my favorite musicians of all time, Wyclef Jean, is working out the details in his decision to run for the President of Haiti. After the earthquake, Jean became the face of Haitian relief efforts and has never given up on his home country. The Fugees frontman and now solo artist has a questionable political background, but I am with him 100%.

That's it, i'm too tired from Kings of Leon to do anything productive today. P & L

July 31st - TELL 'EM WHY YOU MAD

I'm mad because there are countless pictures of Kid Cudi on the internet smoking and chewing on blunts. [[Yes, chewing - I just saw one]] That's absurd, Scott, and I don't wanna deal with your new shitty music anymore. I love you boo, but really, take a deep breath of fresh air and figure out what you want to do in life.

I'm mad because Goodmusicallday.com (GMAD, to the pros) has turned to the dogs. Or as the rappers/artists on the site would say, "daawwwwgs". Any site deeming themselves as having "good music" should NEVER feature an acapella version of Kanye West "rapping" (AKA shitting out little words into a mic) at the FACEBOOK HQ. I'm sorry, "Mr. West, Mr. Fresh", but that's pathetic. You were doing so well with your new single Power that you forgot where your god damn head is at.

I'm mad because I've been listening to "Teach Me How To Dougie" 8 times a day for a week and I still have zero clue how to do this dance. When a frend of mine offered to each me, I immediately agreed. When that fateful day comes, I'll be sure to blog about it.

I'm NOT MAD AT ALL because Lauryn Hill has a beautiful new song called "Repercussions"!!!! I AM a little mad at her for not answering my letter, still, but it's okay. I'm sure she's busy.. But, come on honey, this is not a good way to break up with me.
Ain't that a bitch, the way the world spins around?
...Yeah Lauryn, sure is.. Damn, she's just as mad as I am!

I'm a little bit mad about missing the Jersey Shore finale at 10 PM this Thursday! Luckily there was an 11:00 showing and I was able to catch that after my little birthday ice cream get-together. I'm extremely furious that Angelina is back with the crew in Miami. BITCH, KNOW YOUR PLACE. You're placed there for the sole purpose of fucking shit up and really, lady, you're not even cute. At least Sammi is good-looking - and if you had half a brain you would have seen Mike's face when you plainly asked to room with him and would have gotten the hell out. But no, Tan-gelina has to ruin the family bond that our lovely guidos share.

I'm mad that it's SHARK WEEEEEEKKKK.

No I'm not, that's a huge lie.

Ryan Sheckler, after not having watched your MTV show for many months, I am now reminded that you are a complete GIRL. Perhaps you are attractive; this is true. But honestly, any man that is so dramatic over someone reading a text message is not much of a man at all.

Holla at me, Volcom fans.

Bob Marley was clearly not a pimp. In fact, he was probably Buddhist. His "One Love" philosophy leads me to believe that he not only was a firm supporter of monogamy but was also a simplistic guy. He had his head on straight and clearly has strong priorities.

GOOD FOR YOU, ROBERT.

In other news, listening to Shakira lately has gotten me really riled up. In between spastic dance sessions, I have found the time to sit down and reflect on this Columbian bombshell's true message. Your hips don't lie, honey, this is true. But are you implying that another part of you is fraudulent? I would sure hope not. My heart would be shattered.

Ain't nothin' but a G thang.

Usain Bolt + Bob Marley + Jamaica = A great morning.

That commercial speaks to me.

When can we book plane tickets, Mom?

Pop goes the Art

I've been investing a lot of useless online time lately looking into Andy Warhol and his works. He's always been my favorite artist, along with Alexander Caulder as a close second, but I never truly appreciated him until I saw that photo at SCAD (see left. or right. or wherever it posts to). After having just entered "andy warhol pop art" into Google, I have come to the conclusion I will be editing my own pictures all day. I just want to be like you, Andy.

Photog-irony

I think the best kinds of photographs are the ironic ones. For example, a rubber duck in a New York City street puddle. I've always wanted to do such a thing, but who can find a perfect crater in the street and NOT get hit by a taxi, bus, or other automobile? I've seen photos of little goldfish in puddles and glasses of water but I can't bring myself to put Kyle in danger. (I also can't concentrate with Raekwon playing in the background.. but anyways). Ironic pictures are so much more interesting... It's all about catching something at the opportune moment. A bird floating around a "No Fly Zone" sign or .. well you catch the drift. These are things I dream about. When I catch 'em, I'll let you know.

ICK.

Dear Bear Grylls,

Suck my left toe.

Sir, There is NO NEED to sleep in the bleeding carcus of a mammal to keep warm. You clearly have the monetary means to call up your producer and check in at the nearest Residence Inn. If you're being filmed, they can hook you up.

Also, if you decide to sleep in a SOAKING WET cave again, maybe you should wake up a bit damp! Yes? No? Perhaps it's a foreign idea to you. And furthermore, asshole, I don't appreciate your completely outrageous survival circumstances. Never in my life will I come face to face with a bear. [The moose is questionable, considering my dream of one day moving to Canada, but that does not count for mere Americans!]

Sincerely,

Your least fan.

In a Snow Daze

Once upon a time, there was a nameless moron who decided to trek out into the wilderness and experience true Connecticut weather at its finest. Little did he/she know that the "snow" was actually a smoothie-like consistency, despite its feathery appearance. The unnamed figure became a bit startled as she/he - okay, shit, it's me. I'm caught. - took a daring step out onto the pavement and felt her tan Fugg boot slosh around in the mess. I fearlessly wandered past the sidewalk and onto the curb, as I heard a small car quietly and slowly approach me from behind. I remained on the very outermost edge of the street, which was also covered in an Icee of precipitation, until the vehicle passed me. I carefully slid my way into the fresh tire tracks that the car had just left behind and followed them all the way down Haverford Street, past the crimson stop sign and around the corner.

...And thus concludes my Spring Glen adventure.

No more "Lazy Sundays"

This morning I woke up at 5:30, started my American Studies homework at 6:30, and had it completed at 8:39... which is why I have time to quickly post today. Sure, I still have an infinite to-do list and all.. but it's not even lunch time! Hooray.

As I casually surfed around on Youtube this morning, I could not help but re-watch all the Hope for Haiti concert clips... Coldplay's "Message" gets me every time. Maybe because I still consider myself Guy Berryman's biggest fan... And who the hell is Matt Morris? He's a GOD! Apparently Ellen Degeneres (spelling? yeah?) loves him as much as I do and has been endlessly plugging him on her show. See, Justin Timberlake started a record label and Morris is his first signee. So a huge congrats to him! Check out his excellent, gripping single "Bloodline". It's one of the few songs I've recently bought on iTunes due to a Limewire mishap. It's worth the dollar though.

Not feeling too creative right now. Just spent a few hours uploading and editing track/Christmas pictures and I must depart and regroup.

Sigh. Screw Bitches.

As I sit in my basement neglecting to review my SAT flashcard set, fully equipped with puns and illustrations, I realize that my life sucks. I mean, I've been studying for this damn test for almost 2 weeks now - and for what? SATs ain't shit, man. As I always say, "don't believe the hype" -- thank you Flava Flav for those excellent words of wisdom. However, I do wish that you all "believe the hype" this spring as the Hamden High girls lacrosse team is carried to many a' victory... That is all.

"Bai Bai Bai": The New N*SYNC Phenomenon.

Just a few moments ago, I posted the literary masterpiece I like to call "Never Saying Good-Bai" as a comment to the New Haven Register's online piece about the deportation of my beloved Mandarin Chinese 1 teacher. However, because apparently I can not copy & paste of this pathetic website, I will simply state that I rambled for a good 2 - 3 paragraphs about how freakin' great she was. Of course, I say "2-3" because in middle school I learned that 4 sentences was a paragraph, and in my junior year of high school I am still unsure as to the correct length of said literary term. Anyways, although the clock is ticking, "she would do anything for us, so we will do anything for her." Poetic, I know. Simply genius. I hate to bring up the sore subject, but she does only have 5 days left. The Hamden School board PRAAAAAAH-bah-bly won't do shit about it because she's embarrassed them too much - but hey. There's a spark of hope. ("Spark" - I'm such a poet).


For this post, I have chosen a photograph of Ms. Bai from my Pep Rally 2009 collection, which has yet to be edited and shared. (I HAVE NO FREE TIME, CALM YOURSELVES).

Anyways, 'nough of dis. SATs are in 6 days and I am not attempting to fail. Though I have been told it's my last name.