Link it up, yo.

I'm so tired. I'm doing my homework, I swear, I just HAD  to share some links, though. Really quick. Quick like a bunny. Ferreals. No, I mean it.

Seriously.

Here's the link to my photo blog which is really pretty and super awesome and has free cupcakes and lawn mowers. Lies! LIES SAYS I!!! Adventures of the Amateur Photographer (look at the URL of this blog then that one; maybe I just think I'm a lot funnier than I actually am, but whatever).

This is important stuff. I mean my face is dead serious when I say you have to go look at these sites. Tell your friends. It's for a real cause, real people, and real tragedy. You may think that slavery ended hundreds of years ago.

But you're wrong.

Take a look and think about it. I always get worked up about how screwed up the world is and how we can so easily change it if we try, so really. If not for me, then for these people. These children. Women, girls, boys, men. It's not funny, but I'll get to that to lighten the mood in a second. Love146.org is just something you have to tell everyone about. Human trafficking is terrifying. This map shows different counts of human trafficking throughout the world. That have been reported, that is. Really, even if only ten people read this, you all have friends. Help out. Spread the word. This is more important than stopping people from saying retard all the time. Legit.

Now for the funny. Sorry about all that seriousness, it happens, though, and it should. Here we go again... Nevermind. Here's a link to a web page that I StumbledUpon. Literally, there is a website called StumbleUpon. It's in the sidebar, to the right, over there. Yeah, you see it. OH! And this all happened in Oregon. Of course. Because Oregon is the best and as a trail named after it. TAKE THAT, AMERICA! Hilarious mustachioed people. In Oregon.

And another link to a random place. I dunno. Just... I dunno. I'm tired. Click on it. Cliiiiick it. Here. Right here. Yeah, oh, wait, yep, you got it. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You clicked it! YES!

Whew, that was exciting. I just love chickens. Have you ever chased one? It's extremely gratifying. Much more fun than chasing a duck. Trust me on this.

My computer is still a piece of crap. I'm getting a min laptop because I'm poor and want a new computer RIGHT SNAPPY. And I need somewhere to put all my porn. *bursts into laughter* Just kidding. I need somewhere to put all my fanfiction and update my plastic crappy lie-filled BlackBerry cell phone that just happens to resemble something that comes out of your butt.

I just said butt.

I should probably write my lab conclusion. I miss my computer.

PS. I'm sick of your crap, Denver. It's almost fall and it's gonna be 80 and sunny the rest of the week. Do you realize how much I have to walk? And how intolerant I am of heat? No, you don't, bastard. I think we should see other people.

The equation to life. (Or why humans are here)

Instructor, pacing the front of the room, stroking chin, looks quizzically at January, who is lening back nonchalantly and chewing on a straw because that crap is addictive and almost therapeutic. All of the questions he doesn't voice are there in his eyes; "Why? How? WHAT IS THE ANSWER?"

And then she speaks.

January: Sleep deprivation + waking up at the a$$ crack of dawn + not enough coffee = cranky January that will claw your eyes out of you look at her wrong. Simple enough, Karate Kid. Is that the best you got? Bring it on. BRING. IT. ON. I am ALMOST fluent in 3 languages, one of them being English, mother trucker. Throw all your punches at me; I'm the ninja of time and space. I had a chocolate chi8p muffin for lunch. Yes, that is an 8. No, I will NOT change it. THIS IS SPARTAAA!

Instructor: I see! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

January: Yeah. Duh. Are there any glittery things around here? I'm tired. Maybe a string? Popsicle? Napkin? Mustache? Seriously, throw me a frickin bone.

OMG why's water all over the floor??? Oh, it's just pee from me getting the pee scared out of me. And we're going to end up in boxes because of me.

Life at the moment: Me, procrastinating Hon. Geometry and Humanities homework by getting on Blogger, Pocahantas (I'm almost a hundred percent sure I misspelled that) is on TV and I'm really happy about it because I love Disney movies, and Parental sitting on the couch talking to the President or Michael Jackson or someone while Idiot 1 Oslow stares her down, forcing her to pet him.

And I tried to go onto a website and Parental's computer wouldn't let me, because it belongs to her office, so her boss is probably going to go all crazy faced and such and take away her job, forcing us to live in boxes. I wouldn't mind that because that way we could hobo our way to Oregon. I've got a plan for these things. Being homeless can be as much of a benefit as a disaster, if you think about it.

Oh God, she's

"LEX, GET OFF OF SLEEPY LAMB!!!"

Okay. Okay, calm down. He tried to nuzzle into my Sleepy Lamb, but I elicit fear into him with one glance. It makes a whipping sound, too, like WHIP-ISH.

Sigh. Now she's getting all nosey. Get out of my Spanish binder from eighth grade, Parental!!! GET!

Wow, I had a post planned out, but this has just gone so many places. And I haven't died yet, so that's good. School hasn't left me for dead just yet. My math teacher is... crappy, though. I miss my old math teacher, who actually taught things. *wistful sigh*

Sigh.

Sigh.

I wake up before the sun, these days, so I should probably do my homework.

I'll create a part 2 to explain the title in a day... or week... or month. Maybe. I'll try not to forget. Mkay, yawn, farewell.

PS. I hate reading science procedures over and over and over and over again. Just saying. *pointed look at science workbook that's as thick as cheese*

Justa somethin' to think about, yeah?

In lieu of the title, and my absolute passion for creative stuff and nature, I'm starting another blog called Adventures of the Amateur Photographer. It's gonna be about spaghetti.

Har har.

Naw, it's gonna be about photography. Scratch that, my pictures. You see, I think I take some pretty fantastic pictures. I don't really care if you think so or not, I really like them and they get better as I take more. Like wine. Hah! Just kidding, again. I'm not 21 yet, silly. But I have tasted wine. They let 6 year olds drink it at church! What's that about?! Right, right, Jesus' blood and all. I suppose... So, yeah. I'll get a link on here once she's all finished up and then you can go look at my prettay pictures and tell me how great they are so my afternoons aren't so boring. Yes? Okay, sounds like a plan. 

I thought about just putting some on here, but then I came up with that sweet title, and if this doesn't make me famous, then maybe that will. It sounded better in my head. Whatever. I'll give you guys a little taste of it so you don't think I'm crazy and arrogant because, really, until someone tells me how awesome I am, I pretty much just sit around (metaphorically; I'm a busy person, people) and think, Man, I bet all my friends are doing something more productive or cooler than me. Psh, jerks. But as we all know, great minds think alike, so my friends probably aren't doing anything productive or cool. Wait wait wait, no, I'm quite productive, actually. If I'm not doing something, I'm pacing around and trying to figure out what to do first because I have so many things to do, little or big. 

Like put stuff on my walls and read fanfiction.

Yep, I'm just that cool.

We were in the car - which was in motion - when I took this. You know you love it. I got some beastly pictures of the graffiti on the cars that I'll  put on the photo blog. /excellent bait and hook tactic

My 3 year old lovely, Josalyn. Also known as Tiny. Sorry 'bout the motorcycle in the back; it takes away some of the "effect," as they say. I have another one like this of her making a face at us. It's pretty awesome.

So go check it out over there (once I give the go ahead, of course) and see all the weird pictures I take. They're like my children. You know, the kind where the parents raise them to succeed so they get a good old folks home and can live in the tropics when they feel like it. Those kinda children.

Because I can't plan, that's why. And I'm a teenager, so that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

I just had one of the best days ever. Seriously.

I got to go register for school again (actually that kind of sucked. Sorta. But my yearbook picture has a green background...) and that only took two hundred years. Afterwards I got coffee, which is just win and awesome 24/7. Then I got to write "YOUR MOM" all over my planner pages, which will be hilarious to see other people's reactions. Then a few hours passed and all sorts of stuff happened. Then I showered, which is what normal people do, right? And THEN I ate some friggin sweet chicken and it started raining. So I stood on my balcony while it was dark and raining and enjoyed it - maybe she's some sort of nocturnal blonde albino amphibian or something - and that inspired some poetry. Psh, pretentious speak. Where's your beret now, January? And THEEEN I got to talk to one of the greatest people on earth who taught me how to shoot a BB gun, took me fishing one time, introduced me to a duck named Howard, gave me some of my excellent choice in music and contributed to the awesome that you see before you today. Oh, and him and his brother showed me some baby alligators and a snake on a few occasions. I also wouldn't have know. that wolf spiders can get as big as your freaking hand if it werent for him. And I hadn't talked to him in forever, and he was sorta, kinda like a dad (I love you, Matt. You're still my padre) to me for a while (at least to me). Like seriously this dude will be famous and I think he's one of Jesus' homeboys. That's how awesome he is. Plus he's got his own little awesome family unit somewhere around the US. Anyways, then my hair smelled really good. For real. Afterwards, I saw on my profile (on my iPod, you piece of crap computer! [this post is probably all effed up because my iPod can be a half wit at times]) that I had over 70 views.

Hmmmmmm... Those couldn't have all been me, right? I don't think I've seen my profile 70 times, eh? Maybe my plan is working. Maybe people are finally noticing all the funny and awesome that's happening up in here... Or it's just people passing through.

Whatever. I have 70 profile views, and you can't take them from me. Even though you probably have 7000, dillhole.

And I have to go to a practice day tomorrow, and wake up before 6, so hopefully I don't explode or anything. I tried to go to sleep an hour ago, but wanted to make a post...

Read the title. That'll 'splain it all. If anyone asks, like my dean or a college or something, I was never here.

Unless it's Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner. Then yes, I was here and, further, I practically live here. That's why it smells like cheese. Yeah, they can chat it up over here any time, totes. Fer sures. Because I know they secretly think I'm awesome.

(That's why I have 70+ profile views)

(Duh.)

I had to be super stealthy to get my grubby little hands on the computer.

Parental: Hey, you wanna take  the poopsies out?

Me: Mmm?

Parental: Take the dogs out for me?

Me: What?

Parental: *sigh* You know.

Me: *sigh, stretch* Mayyybe.

Parental: Please?

Me: Mmmmm, mayyyybeeemmmno.

Parental: Mayyybe yes? Soon? Please?

Me: *squints eyes and raises eyebrows* Nooo?

Parental: Mmhmm, yeees?

Me: *squints eyes even more and raises eyebrows higher, as well as pitch of voice* Nooooo?

Parental: Yes.

Me: Hmmm... *strokes imaginary beard and gazes into space* Ummmm. *squinty eyes and super high eyebrows, high voice [this has to work. I'm not going outside. Mosquitoes. Grasshoppers. Creepy old neighbors and annoying little kids. No]) Noooooooo??? Please? Something else?

 *

Parental: Yes? No? Fine. Dishes?

Me: God, you suck. Fine. I'll take the friggin' dogs. Or we can just give them away. Let's leave 'em at someone's house. They'll never notice, except for the minor loss of food and toilet bowl water. Yes! Yesyesyes! Let's do it!

Parental: Really? No. Go walk them.

*I abso-freaking-lutely love Third Rock From the Sun. In 2007, I think, when we were moving, we had this ginormous 3rd Rock marathon, renting from the library. It was flippin' sweet. And Joseph Gordon Levitt is awesome in Inception. That is all.

Adjectives

Hmmm... Lemme see... *rifles through briefcase* Aha! *unpacks adjectives* Okay, so I'm going to create a list of adjectives that will, I dunno, win you a million dollars. That is such a lie. They will also get you the person of your dreams and that promotion from Jenkins you've been asking for since last October. Another lie. Don't believe any of this. You'll also get free movie tickets every time you say them. And there she goes again, what a jerk face. These won't be in alphabetical order because that's not how my brain works. In fact, I usually remember things when it's way too late, like eighty dollars on a shelf or my shampoo and conditioner. Yes, I forgot 80 freaking dollars and hair supplies in Montana, okay? You happy now? 

1. Top notch. Good.
2. Marvelous. Good.
3. Horrifying. Bad.
4. Magnificent. Good.
5. Acidic. Bad.
6. Amazing. Good.
7. Lickety split. Fast. This is an adverb, I guess, but I'm going to leave it because everyone should say it these days.
8. Gruesome. Bad.
9. Turrible. Bad. Also a variation of terrible, pronounced turr-uh-bull. Yep, lots of u's. 
10. Shnikey. This is actually a noun.
11. Hairy. Bad.
12. Delightful. Good.
13. Smelly. Bad. Reallyreally bad.
14. Ginormous. Big.
15. Gargantuan. Big.
16. Eentsy beentsy. Small.
17. Marvelous. Good.
18. Fantabulous. Good. 

That's all I've got for now. My funniness has gone out for vacation recently because I'm tired and cranky when I try to post something of late. Mostly because my freaking internet is riding the short bus. I am just way too offensive sometimes. Whatever. And the only coffee I can seem to hold down is coffee purchased from a restaurant or Starbucks or other coffee place. 

So now our ladder is in the middle of the living room because that's the only place I have been able to get signal from someone else's internet, and I was getting sick of standing and holding a computer in the air, eyes wide and breath ragged, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I digress. 

Try not to laugh. Just TRY.

Poppycock.

Poppycock.

POPPYCOCK.

PS. I found old jeans that I like, so yay for me. *thumbs up and grins*

PPS. Our internet has been down for the past two days all because of a dillhole power outage (thankfully during the day or else I would have had to whip out my super secret night vision) so because the HOA and our internet provider are Nazis AND hate happiness, we have to wait another day to get it fixed. I seriously don't think you understand how terribly ruled my life is by access to the internet. So now Parental and I have to drive to a Starbucks with my 3 year old sister, Tiny, and try to keep her from mauling any innocent bystanders. My predictions: everything will start out relatively fine, a dust mote will land on Tiny's head and she'll start screaming bloody murder. Then I'll get Tiny and hold her to my chest with a death grip, she'll kick some hipster's fancy beret off, I'll apologetically smile while Parental and I try not to set things on fire, and then... well, the rest is pretty variable from there. That probably isn't how it's going to happen at all but I do enjoy myself some melodrama.

PPPS. I really want to kick our internet provider and HOA in the face. Really bad.

PPPPS. I start school in a week. I think I'll throw up right before I get there, because no matter what I will always be nervous about a first day. Plus my high school is the biggest in Colorado, and I have gotten lost on the first day of school - or gone to the wrong class - ever since sixth grade. I'm just hoping that I'll have someone to drag down with me this time. So wish me luck and send me muffin baskets because I'll need them after I come home and try to get the shock, embarrassment, ,and trauma to wear off.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPS. I hate weather over 80 degrees. If you live in Washington or Oregon or very northern California, you don't understand how lucky you are because the better half of the summer has been between 85 and 95 degrees. Or that's what it feels like. Whatever, stop judging me!

Parental wants to marry Cesar Milan.

Just wanted to put that out there. And oh my holy Jesus H. Christ mother of God and cheese cracker donuts I think I just threw up in my nose a little because this show about contortionists or something on NatGeo is showing 9 year old infants that can bend their back like on the Exorcism and it's terrifyingly nasty. I probably misspelled half of that ramble-on sentence.

Anyhoosers, I started this post because I was making a sandwich for myself and FoodBuddy and I turned the TV on because I can't handle silence unless I'm outside. Then, as I was waiting for the oven to preheat because I like my cheesy sammiches toasty, I began to do some wall-push-ups because I had a donut earlier and about a handful of Werther's hard candies (and I'm not done for the day). While working out and pumping my arms for the impending zombie apocalypse, I noticed that Dog Whisperer was on.

When we first got our dogs (now only 2 poodles because I threw the chihuahua out the window in a fit of rage made a plan with the dear ones to give the chihuahua to the crazy lady who lives below us) we had no idea what to do with them because the first, and oldest, one is an ex-hoarder dog and he's tiny. He was originally for me, but we had this mutual hatred going on - I would try to pick him up, he'd sqiummer under the couch, I'd hiss and claw at him while he did the same - so we watched Cesar Milan all the time. Then, one day when we left him with our... friend person, I guess, he escaped from the yard and we didn't find him for a few days. Then he showed up on someone's dorrstep and we retrieved him, torn between punching him in the face and hugging him until he sings. He had an epiphany while gone, probably as a large squirrel was hunting and chasing him down. So when we met again, we were closer. Then I watched It's Me or The Dog and figured out how to make him my BFFL. It worked.

Then we got our next retard poodle, Oslow. *laughs at how name looks on a computer* He's the best, really. He's four or five and sort of short and has an underbite. Plus, like me, he loves to mess with your head. He gets other dogs to chase him and trip all over themselves and it's hilarious to see his face when he runs. So when he would act like a little douche bag, we looked to Cesar for help, which didn't really help in my opinion, but hey. At least we have vanilla-scented spray for his toys that apparently makes him go crazy. I just think it smells like ice cream and sugar cones.

[yum]

I don't think there was a point to this post, much like many of my others. I'm thinking about writing more reasons why zombies are waiting in the seventh circle of Hades and also in the shadows behind the dumpsters at night, when you are at your most vulnerable and thinkn you're safe because it's nighttime and dark and who would be stupid enough to come out here at night? Zombies, idiot. Zombies are waiting to maul you and make you their man-wich. (Thanks, Zombieland and Woody Harrelson)

And I'm going to write about why you shouldn't have kids. Because you really shouldn't unless you're prepared to mop up gallons of pee, get poop from another human being on your hand, get puked on, never have any time to yourself everevereverevereverevereverever for the rest of your life, ever, and chase after them in a Target while a**hole clerks biotch women other stupid little kids innocent bystanders look on in horror because they're stupid and tie their kids to poles and leashes and make other people handle them. [wistful sigh]

Whatever. If you were wondering if I'm still funny, don't worry. I am. Someday *looks up and to the left, gazing into the future* I'll be famous, but until then I'm gonna write about zombies and stupid dogs and psychopathic bugs that are trying to kill me. So make me famous and I'll bring out the good stuff.

PS. I have had to help raise my sister since she was born, so don't think I haven't had to wipe up more pee than a horse can produce and don't doubt the fact that I will do anything to get out of going to the store with children because they like to embarrass me and make me chase them and dive to the ground only to find that everyone is staring and oh my god I have to stop.

PPS. I don't like other people's kids. I'm sorry, I really am, and I don't mean to offend you, but I just don't like your kids. Even as a kid myself, half of the time I didn't like other kids. People younger than me that aren't blood relatives should just stay away from me or I might instinctively trip them or something. Sorry. You can't change me, though, so heed my orders.

PPPS. Now I have that song from Mulan stuck in my head. I'll add it to the playlist down at the bottom of this blog and then you can hear it and have it stuck in your head for the next seven and a half months. Ain't life sweet?

PPPPS. *sigh, drags hand down the side of face* I don't know how to spell my grandfather's name. I, I try, I do, but I just can't figure it out because his stupid overly-creative parents (who are now dead, so Jesus probably wants to pimp-slap me for making fun of dead people) spelled it in some ridiculous Latin-Greek-Duck form or something and so no one can spell it except for Parental and him. I'll just call him Pirate from now on because he only has one leg, mkay? That works for me.