Game of Drones: Episode III: Drone.com

My school is just incredibly surreal. It's pretty bad. Literally, every day I get out of bed now and say to myself "Okay, there's no way life could get any weirder." And then I go to school... and somehow it does. I have had to put up with a militant PE teacher who insists on calling frisbees 'discs' and has an 'integrity fetish', a mentally challenged poetry 'consultant' who spent a whole class showing us unbelievably horrible videos like THIS one, a math teacher who sends people to the office for asking questions, and a science teacher with absolutely no social skills whatsoever. Not to mention the students, who have had long conversations about dead babies, personalized bongs, murder, insanity, and some of the most perverse shit known to man. I honestly don't know how much longer I can take this before I lose my mind. Thank God for winter break... but first I have to put up with finals.

The good news is, my maps went over well at school. And that's a good thing, because if they hadn't, I would have set the field on fire. They took me 18 hours, and by the end I was seeing cross-eyed and had a splitting headache. I literally had an out-of-body experience where I watched the entire room dissolve into dust, then spin down a whirlpool. I think I need to get some sleep.

But sadly I can't sleep well tonight, because Amazon.com has just announced a program for package delivery via drone. So I'm a little afraid that my recent order of five DVDs could get mixed up, and result in me being firebombed in my sleep. But this could actually be a really positive development: Obama can now trade Amazon some drones in exchange for a working website! OOOH! PRESIDENTIAL BUUUUURN!!!



Oh, he's got such a good sense of humor about these things.

This is just another example of how modern technology is passing the postal service by. I mean, Amazon has drones, and the USPS has only just now started delivering packages via catapult. Ridiculous. But honestly, does this not seem a little suspiciously reminiscent of The Terminator? I mean, who's to say that SkyNet won't take these drones over when it gains sentience, and use them as kamikaze fighters that blow up your house? I mean, they already know where you live...

Isn't technology awful? It's just... separating us... and all interpersonal relationships will soon be gone. It's so sad OH MY GOD I'M SOUNDING LIKE MY ENGLISH TEACHER. Shit! I need to go home and rethink my life...

Bye!

Don We Now Our Alternative Lifestyle Apparel

Good evening, everybody! Well, my blogging schedule has been disrupted by schoolwork yet again, and this time it's because of three hand-drawn maps for History, a 10-page essay, a math test, and a poem I have to memorize... not to mention that finals is next week. I'd slit my wrists, but I'm afraid I'd get blood all over these beautiful maps I've drawn. I'll upload pictures of them sometime, but let's just say that I had fun. I enjoy drawing maps, and it helps that this project is on a subject I actually care about: Film. So it's not as bad as it could be. For instance, I could be writing about Algebra...

Anyway, it's CHRISTMASTIME!!! So get ready for a lot of butthurt Catholics to scream bloody f**king murder about a fictional war on Christmas. Also, avoid malls for the next month unless you enjoy getting stuck in gridlock traffic and being trampled to death by angry shoppers, all while listening to the most obnoxious music known to man. I try to avoid other people during this time of year, especially psychotic religious fanatics who think that you're a communist if you don't have a Christmas tree. But also because of shit like this:

You may have noticed the conspicuous lack of a certain word here. Apparently, Hallmark (the company that made this atrocity) didn't think the word "gay" applied in this context, as gays usually have good taste in clothes, and wouldn't be caught dead in this genocide of a sweater. At least, I wish the explanation was that simple. Actually, Hallmark didn't think that anyone would want to walk around with the word GAY plastered across their chest. But they made one fatal mistake: They thought that people would actually buy a sweater this ugly, regardless of the shit written on it. And this brings me to yet another reason why I hate Christmas: Bad sweaters.

But really, the whole logic behind this decision is flawed. When you see this sweater, you notice that it doesn't have the word "gay" on it, and that puts the word in your head. That's the WHOLE POINT of saying a word: Putting it in someone's head. So even if it doesn't say "gay," it implies it. And to the gays who are pissed off about this: Who cares? Do you really want to be associated, even incorrectly, with something this disgusting? Jesus Christ, what kind of a sick maniac would BUY something like that? Aaaaaargh...

At the risk of sounding like an asshole, this is a perfect argument for a national fashion police: To hunt down people who wear these things, tranquilize them, and remove them from the larger population. Same thing goes for guys who wear polo shirts. And ironic glasses. And skinny jeans. And fedoras. And "Save the Rainforests" t-shirts... actually, I'll make this simple: HIPSTERS MUST DIE.

Bye!