12/31/08
Writer's block
12/30/08
Nick: part IV
Nick awoke with the pressing urge to go to the bathroom. This was not so surprising, given the dank grays and blues that filled the room and the tinkling of rain upon the windowsill. So began the morning routine. The most depressing part of any weekday morning was the moment after he woke up and remembered that Ferra would already be at school. Disturbed did not even touch how he felt. He feared for his life at the thought of having to leave home and go to some unknown institution run by God knew what kinds of psychopaths. The backyard was dangerous enough!
What scared him more, however, was that Ferra had to experience this horror for five days in a row, every week. All those awful influences and corrupting examples; and he was nowhere to protect her. Then again, his motives might not have been so selfless, he had no one to ask his deep and probing questions to, other than his mother, who often responded even more curtly than did Ferra.
He contemplated this while perched upon his Little Tikes porcelain express. There was yet another thing which instilled fear into his brave little heart: the adult sized john. All attempts by his parents to place him upon it had resulted in bloodied noses. He had perfectly good reason to loathe the instrument of torture. God forbid that he should be sucked in! What a fine predicament THAT would present!
He could read the headlines now: “BRILLIANT FOUR YEAR OLD EATEN BY MONSTER TOILET!”
Were it not for him, his parents would have probably been locked up for neglect some time ago.
12/24/08
Tomorrow was Christmas
12/21/08
Airport, parts VII, VIII and IX
Airport, part VII (Sunday, December 21, 2008, 11:40 Pacific time)
Apparently, the less sleep I get, the more bedraggled I become, and the less shaven I am, the older I look. At the beginning of this trip, when asked what I wanted to drink, the lady started by saying “Coke products.” That was about 10 hours into my trip. I am now at a whopping 29 hours, sitting in a bar in the Salt Lake airport… the man starts by saying: “Well, we’ve got beer…” My life amuses me; increasingly so the more sleep deprived I become.
And yes, I am now in Salt Lake. It’s a nice change of scenery. I could walk around this place for hours without getting bored. Thankfully I will not be here for 24 hours. WOW… I don’t think I ever want to step foot in the Lewiston airport again; so many bad memories! laughs Not really… actually, when we found out that our flight was finally ready to go, I put on MRC and air drummed for a good half hour. (Obviously this means that the plane was NOT yet ready! But I’m not going to be any harder on the Delta Airlines staff. They want to be home for Christmas as much as I do.)
Rocking out in the terminal was a blast though. I got so many funny looks from old folks, college girls and young boys. I didn’t care though, I was sooooooo slap happy at that point!
OK, my heuro just arrived. (Or however you spell that. It’s the Greek lamb pieta thing… you know…… nevermind.) Pardon me while I stuff my face.
Scott
Airport, part VIII (12:18 Pacific time)
Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles! I now have the last seat, in the middle of the emergency exit row on the last flight from Salt Lake to Raleigh before the snowstorm. May God be praised! Let all creatures here below worship Him! If all goes as planned now, I should be home by 1:00 tomorrow morning.
God is good,
Scott
Airport, part IX (22:44 Pacific)
I am home. I am safe. I have all my bags. I am exhausted. I do not wish to talk to you any more.
Goodnite,
Scott
Airport, part VI
Airport, part V
Airport, part IV
12/20/08
Airport, part III
Airport, part II
I really loath airport security
Punk Rock 101 by Bowling for Soup
12/19/08
Time passes by...
12/18/08
Bi-Polar
12/17/08
Yet another apology.
12/16/08
The little moments
Josiah is wondering...
Can't Believe it
12/15/08
Back to My Roots
(untitled emo poem)
12/13/08
Adventures in Moscow (Idaho)
His Favorite Christmas Story by Capital Lights
Doom 3: The Movie
12/10/08
Nick: Part III
Another thing which detracted from the joy which might have been contracted from his cot being referred to as a “big boy bed” was the obvious truth the phrase overlooked: Nick was barred it. The only way in or out of the bed was via a small set of steps at the foot; miles away from his head. There was not even the POSSIBILITY of danger while he slept. Nick longed to life on the edge, like Kevin! He slept in a bed that stood well off the floor. If the bed had been outside, Nick would have bet money that there would be clouds covering the top. The kicker came when Kevin had shown Nick that he had no railings to protect him from falling through the stratosphere and onto the bedroom floor.
Alas, it was not to be. Nick was in a bed that barely ascended to the troposphere; ruminating on the pain his choice not to ingest green goop had caused him. Specifically his rear. The sharp sting, however, had been decreasing in stingyness in recent months. This was also proportionate to the number of frank disagreements he had had with his parents over said months. He had yet to put two and two together though.
Gleaming throw his window, the stars winked at Nick, as if they knew something he did not. Not as far fetched as it seemed at first. This got Nick to thinking: maybe there were other little boys over by those stars who disliked green food and cried when birds died.
He suddenly remembered that he had not said his prayers. His mother had obviously been so irate that she had quite forgotten to remind him. She would have to be informed of this shortcoming in the morning! Desperate to rectify the situation, Nick began the arduous journey to the end of his bed, and decent down the three stairs to the floor.
After several minutes, which felt like hours, Nick was safely on the taupe colored carpet without being detected by his parents. He started with what was on the forefront of his mind:
“Dear God, please no more green stuff!” After realizing a fatal error in his prayer, he tried to desperately salvage his meaning: “Food, me mean food! Not all stuff. I like green stuff. I like green ova-alls!”
Smiling at his quick thinking, he continued: “Thanks for sissy. Make her not so mean. Keep bad boys away from her too. Spank bad boys!”
He struggled to come up with something else, racking his brains for the prayers that his family often used. “Make Mommy and Daddy safe. Make them love each other.” Nick wasn’t sure why this was important to pray for, since it seemed so obvious that Mommy and Daddy DID indeed love each other. But it was something which Ferra prayed for often, and he didn’t have anyone better to emulate in his prayers.
“Make me sleep good, and all the other big boys on planets far away.
“Amen!”
Nick then began the long journey back to his pillow, and then slept soundly.
12/8/08
MCR: "Mental Catholic Romans"
12/6/08
The sun rises
12/5/08
Life...
12/4/08
Nick part II
Dinner that night was… green. Horrible stuff, whatever it was. Nick was peculiar that way. He could not care less what a food’s consistence might be; color was everything. There was also some inconsistency, which Nick himself readily saw, in this predicament. He loved green; with a passion. His favorite outfit to ware most days consisted of green socks, green overalls and one of his many green t-shirts. Occasionally he was put in a pair of black socks for variety.
His preoccupation with the color had even grown into a fetish for others wearing it too. Loved ones especially looked fine in a nice shade of chartreuse or lime. Going as far as to paint the family pet, Nana, a lovely shade of forest, had been the preverbal last straw for his poor mother however. Nick still occasionally indulged in melting green crayons on the sidewalk and spreading the sticky mess upon anyone lucky enough to need a bit of Saint Patrick’s Day in their life.
Despite all this, green was a color to behold during meals. Perhaps it was just that Nick believed that green belonged everywhere BUT his mouth. Well, perhaps all over it, but not inside. The turning point, which none of the family but Nick remembered was the night which he had been read Green Eggs and Ham. No matter that the strange looking fellow at the end of the tale had indeed eaten them, they looked horrid! Besides, the book had been written by that horrible poet man, who was so bad at rhyme that he had to INVENT words! Doctor indeed!
That night dinner ending with a food fight, with Nick being the main… make that only one throwing the food. Dinner ended early. Bedtime came even sooner than usual.
11/30/08
ok, ok
11/28/08
Movie review marathon!
11/27/08
11/25/08
Nick
Nick:
Professional Four Year Old
“I doubt it.” Ferra looked down upon the sad, upturned beak of the dead sparrow.
Nick whimpered, “But WHYYYYY?” He was practicing that wonderfully developed sense of logic that most four year olds share through constant inquisitiveness, and a vocabulary of one word.
He persisted to ask his haggard sister again, assuming that she had not heard him the first time. “WHYYYYYY won’t he fly?”
“He’s dead Nick.” A curt response was all that Ferra could possibly muster at this point in the conversation. All sense of courtesy and any Sunday school lessons from that morning had been long forgotten the third time her little brother had inquired as to why dead things don’t fly. Apparently her reasoning skills were not quite water tight enough for Nick.
Whimpering soon became crying as Nick began to pick up rocks to throw at the bird lying upon the pavement.
“Get up bird! Get up!” Several rocks began their decent towards the immobile creature.
“STOP IT!” Ferra screamed. “Let the poor thing rest in peace!”
“It’s DEAD!” Nick screamed back, looking equal parts pitiful and cute. “It won’t care!”
Soon realizing that physical force was now the only mode of persuasion left to her, Ferra snatched the grubby little hand and jerked it backwards. The street resounded with noise.
“Ow, ow, OOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!”
Suddenly, a large sedan full of teenage boys appeared by their side, and slowed to a slug’s pace. Catcalls flew out of the windows and reverberated off Ferra’s ears. She knew how she looked, and she didn’t do anything to accentuate it. She didn’t hide it either, a fact that often made her parents fear for her life.
All Nick noticed at first was a sudden slack in his arm, for which he was very grateful. Something tipped his little toddler mind however. He looked around pensively. The bird, the concrete, a fence, his sister, a car, bad boys. Hmmmm… that was what he mommy had told him not to be. Perhaps it was time that he impart some of his hard-won knowledge with these poor souls, who had apparently not been so fortunate.
“Shut up, you….. you…. meanies!!!!!” Nick thought about what he had said for a bit. Had he been too forceful? But no, the car began to pick up speed again and head off in the direction whence it came, and the look on his sister’s face had relaxed enormously. Another job well done for Nick Greedy.
Let me know what ya'll think!
Scott
11/22/08
Stop, just stop!
11/20/08
Why I use the Canadian rating system
11/19/08
Upcoming releases
11/18/08
I've been tagged and I'm not tagging anyone else...
11/16/08
Pseudonym
11/15/08
Review of "Quantum of Solace"
11/14/08
11/12/08
Some advice to all my college friends:
11/9/08
Dying/Living
Hello
They’re all dying
We can’t bring them back
We’ll see them again
Just not yet
Rabbits and butterflies are all but gone
The sky ate them
The ground drank them
And now all is dead
All is wet
Words on a page
They ask for prayer
I accept
But I can’t
I have nothing to receive
It’s a lie
A haunted boy
A saddened girl
They meet and then
Twitterpation
More rabbits
More butterflies
Numbers are concrete
But mean nothing
Words are nothing
But mean everything
They make us live
They make us die
They make us
Four-star rating stabs me like a knife
Shapes can’t explain
They can’t define
How I feel
Who I am
Hello
We’re all living
11/8/08
I'll Try
11/7/08
New Stuff
11/5/08
It has come...
11/3/08
MxPx- "Before Everything and After"
11/2/08
Hello again
The Fall
10/21/08
Safety in odd places
10/18/08
Making Up for Lost Time
10/17/08
Don't waste your money...
10/16/08
"Get on your knees, and fight like a man!"
10/15/08
An Old Friend
The rain has been so long in coming
An old friend
Just when I need him most
Pouring down, down, down
Clean my soul, aid my friends
Help them please, make amends
I cry and scream and hurt
I stumble in the dirt
The other side I long for
The other side I crave
I look to what lies beyond
At the other side of the grave
But time is not yet finished
So much more work to do
And with some grace, and helping hands
I know I’ll make it though
The rain drips down the shutters
And leaks in through the cracks
It warms my heart with gladness
That nothing I do lack
A reminder that I’m starving
For the words I did neglect
How could I be so blinded?
How could I now forget?
A dusty book
Written by a friend
Is the only way
For me to make amends
The rain it is so soothing
It runs into my soul
It keeps me warm and healthy
It brings me back to home
10/12/08
The night is long... my words are longer
10/8/08
Never Fear, the Flobots are Here!
It is finally time for another review. I am sure that some of you at least have heard of the fad hip/hop group, Flobots. For those unfamiliar with the group’s sound and direction, I’ll give you a point of reference. They take the political-mindedness of Rise Against, and add the Biblical worldview and catchy beats of Christian rappers like KJ-52, and PAX217. Have you ever wanted your music to actually SAY something, and yet not twist the facts? Have you ever been sickened by what the church is becoming and how it is aiding a fallen culture instead of impeding it? Never fear, the Flobots are here! And if you look beyond the exterior, I believe that they have the quality and power to stay on the scene for a long time.
Here are the lyrics to the opening song:
"There's a war going on for your mind
Media mavens mount surgical strikes from trapper keeper collages and online magazine racks
Cover girl cutouts throw up pop-up ads
Infecting victims with silicone shrapnel
Worldwide passenger pigeons deploy paratroopers
Now it's raining pornography
Lovers take shelter
Post-production debutantes pursue you in nascar chariots
They construct ransom letters from biblical passages and bleed mascara into holy water supplies
There's a war going on for your mind
Industry insiders slang test tube babies to corporate crackheads
They flash logos and blast ghettos
Their embroidered neckties say "stop snitchin'"
Conscious rappers and whistleblowers get stitches made of acupuncture needles and marionette strings
There is a war going on for your mind
Professional wrestlers and vice presidents want you to believe them
The desert sky is their bluescreen
They superimpose explosions
They shout at you
'pay no attention to the men behind the barbed curtain
Nor the craters beneath the draped flags'
Those hoods are there for your protection
And meteors these days are the size of corpses
There's a war going on for your mind
We are the insurgents"
WARNING: "Mayday," "Stand Up," "Combat," and "The Rhythm Method" contain some profanity.
Stand out tracks: "There's a War Going on for Your Mind," "Stand Up," "Handlebars," "Rise", and (if you can find this b-side track online) "So Happy Together."
Final score: 4 1/2 out of 5
Until next time,
Scott
10/5/08
I'm still here
The sky fades again, as all the people leave
But I’m here… I’m still here
My words cut those I wish to please
And I’m here, I’m still here
The grass dies and the world spins
Friends grow old, I grow away
I’m trying to swim, but I’ve lost my fins
The thoughts hurt from day to day
But I’m still here, Yes, I’m still here
Another one stands before me
You can look, but you can’t touch
My failures are so plain to see
It all seems to be too much
And the clouds roll in, the world caves in
I still stand
I look back, were I’m going, were I’ve been
And I stand, and I fall, and I die
I hope and I love and I cry
And I’m still here
It’s so quiet in this room
My mind it moves so fast
This won’t become my tomb
I’m going to make this last
The fear comes to haunt, the people run away
But I’m here, I’m still here
I will not flee, I won’t choose to be afraid
And I’m here, I’m still here
An Apology
10/3/08
Shock
(this post is under construction, due to misunderstandings and miscommunication. sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you for your patients. Scott)
9/29/08
"Lord, save me from myself"
I do not desire food, nor do I desire company. I want sustenance and I require love. I want the ends, not the means. The means require work I am not willing to expend. I have become “lazier than the furniture.”
I am sick of punk rock, something that rarely, if EVER happens. I am done with my paper, yet afterwards, rejoicing is brief. Decent into utter apathy consumes me. Poetry is life, emo is not an abstract phrase. It is a state of mind.
Overstatement, and exaggeration. Other’s disbelief at my remarks. “No one understands!” That is a lie from hell. But it still burns; it still draws blood.
Focus is barely managed. Spell check is my crutch. It causes me to stumble, it causes me to fail.
I feel like the instrument I write upon: slipping ever nearer towards running out of juice, but yet, never quiet reaching 0%. The constant state of wanting to be full, but never being empty.
Contentment, like a flower, is fleeting. It blooms with such beauty, but withers with the lightest frost. Resilient it is not.
Melancholy. LORD, save me from its grasp. It clutches at my heart. It tugs upon my mind. It consumes like cancer. Like an infectious hardcore song it eats away at body and soul.
“LORD, save me from myself."
And yet thought you may despair, God shows grace. He shows that He is still the one who brought you into this place called life, called you to Himself, and sustains you through all.
You may not give a hoot, you may be sick of life through and through; you may not be able to feel a thing. Then God’s beaming sense of humor shines through the dark, dark clouds of the mundane. A blonde, and box of Lego, leaves crunching underneath the soles of your feet, someone who is completely baffled by your sour outlook on life, yet stays to listen as you ramble on uselessly. These are the things God uses. He shows up at the last second, then He defies your expectations, blows your mind, and blesses your socks off.
Scott
9/27/08
The Clock
9/21/08
Back again
8/15/08
Tropic Thunder Review
8/8/08
The Dark Knight FAQ and Review
The (K)night is Darkest
“The Dark Knight” is not a superhero movie; plan and simple. No, it aspires to be something far greater. Many movie critics have compared it to Martin Scorsese’s “The Departed.” Although I have not seen “The Departed,” I would disagree, because even though I have not seen it, I have read the story and see nothing redeeming about it. Everything about “The Dark Knight” is redeeming.
Why I say that it is not a superhero flick is simple: It defies the stereotypes. We’ve had plenty of superhero fare this summer. From Iron Man to the Hulk to Hancock, we always seem to get the same thing, lots of cool action, lots of “yuk, yuk” jokes and really campy plotlines. Sometimes campy isn’t all that bad, I mean, every now and then it works. But after a while you just get sick of superhero clichés. I know I do. “The Dark Knight” throws all that out and starts fresh. Much like what the Bourne series did to spy movies such as 007 and Mission Impossible. I don’t know if you noticed, but after “The Bourne Identity,” “M:I:III” and “Casino Royale” came out…. And what did they do? They tried to emulate Bourne’s realistic and gritty style, and for the most part, it works.
The Nolan brothers have done the same with Batman. No more silly gags to break the tension, no more dumb filler characters and most notably, no assurance at the end telling us that everything will be alright… just more dread for the hero and less respect from the general public. Batman really becomes hated at the end of this film. And, no, don’t even try to compare it to Spiderman, because Parker’s trouble in Spiderman 2 looks like the Sunday funnies when compared to Batman’s trouble.
(WARNING, SPOILERS TO FOLLOW!!!!!)
Ultimately, “The Dark Knight” is about choices. LOTS of choices! And how those choices affect the people around us and how others can affect the choices we make… if we let them.
The movie starts with the Joker robbing a bank, and killing all but one of his henchmen along the way... on purpose. Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne (Batman) is dealing with radioactive dollar bills, mob activity and a bunch of goons who think that it’s cool to dress up like him and go around shooting bad guys. Police Chief James Gordon confronts Batman about the Joker, believing that he is a major threat to Gotham. Batman disagrees, believing that the mob still posses more problems for the city.
Wayne is also having relationship trouble. His girlfriend, Rachel Dawes, is now dating the DA of the city, Harvey Dent. However, after seeing Dent in action, Wayne sees that he could be good for Gotham. Dent is seemingly fearless against the criminals and mob bosses. Ulimately, Wayne believes that he has found someone with a face to take his place, so he can retire the suit. But hey, this IS a Batman movie… how likely is it that something like that would happen? You guessed it, not likely at all.
So just when things are looking up, the baddies caught, the streets cleaned up, here comes Joker. Suddenly, several higher ups in the police force turn up dead and a Batman pretender winds up hanging from a noose. The city panics as the Joker shows up on the local news telling everyone that he will kill more people if Batman does not reveal his identity.
With the help of a lot of high-tech gadgets, Wayne figures out through a series of clues that the Jokers next targets are Rachel Dawes, Harvey Dent and the Mayor. Batman and the police rush to put them into protective custody, but when the Mayor is almost killed, Gordon takes the bullet instead. In a long chase scene, the Joker, who is in a semi, attempts to kill Dent, who is in an armored vehicle, with a bazooka. The end result of which is that the Joker is captured and Dent gets away.
Sadly for Dent and Dawes, the cops who were suppose to protect them are bent, and both of them end up in separate rooms filled with explosives, while the Joker just smiles and taunts his captures from his cell. Once Batman learns of their disappearances, he is enraged and assails the Joker in his cell, while the Joker just laughs manically. Finally, the Joker gives Batman the addresses of the hostages, and Batman goes after Dawes, while Gordon (who we learn faked his death in order to capture the Joker) goes after Dent. Little do they know that the Joker lied (of course.) Hence Batman is able to save Dent, but the sparks of the explosion light Dent, having half his face soaked in gasoline, aflame. Gordon is not able to save Dawes.
Enraged and in pain, Dent lays in a hospital bed, refusing skin grafts to correct the damage done to his face. Deciding that all he needs is a little “push,” the Joker (who has escaped from prison through rather disgusting means) arrives to encourage him to take his revenge for the death of Rachel Dawes. So off Dent, now Two-Face, goes, after the crooked cops, now Commissioner Gordon and Batman himself, whom Dent believes are all responsible for the death of his girl.
The Joker, after blowing up the hospital that Dent was in (all the people had been evacuated, thank God), he informs the citizens of Gotham that after tonight, the city will be under his rule. In panic, authorities load two boatloads of people on ferries to escape the city. One is filled with Gotham’s worst convicts; the other with hapless civilians Apparently, the Joker was expecting this. He cuts the power to both boats, and then addresses the passengers through the ships’ intercom. He tells them that he has rigged both ships with bombs, and has placed the trigger for each on the opposite boat. If one boat blows the other, he will let the surviving people live. But if no one has pulled the trigger by midnight, he will blow everyone sky-high.
Batman rushes to the scene to confront the Joker. He is able to pin the villain to the ground as the clock ticks past midnight. The Joker realizing what time it is, is enraged that the people did not succumb to his evil plot. Resolving to kill them all he attempt to knock Batman off of himself to grab the trigger, but Batman defends himself by knocking the Joker off the building they are in. Refusing to let someone knowingly die, Batman save the Joker with a grappling hook and leaves him for the police, while Batman goes after Two-Face.
He finds Dent with Commissioner Gordon and his family in the building where Rachel Dawes died. Dent, deciding whom to kill with a coin toss, shoots Batman in the abdomen, and then proceeds to threaten Gordon’s son, but before he can pull the gun, Batman gets up and tackles Dent, sending them both through a hole in to burnt out building. Dent lies motionless, while Batman struggles to get up. Gordon and his son come up to thank Batman, who tells them to inform the public that the murders that Dent committed where Batman’s fault, in order to preserve the people’s belief that Dent stood for something noble till the end. The film ends with Batman riding off into the night on his Batpod while Gordon’s son asks:
“But he didn’t do anything wrong, dad. Why did he say that?”
“Because, he’s our dark knight.”
See any spiritual symbolism? I most certainly do. Even if Nolan didn’t intend it, it is clearly there. Batman sacrifices his life, his image and his future for the people of Gotham. Sounds a lot like someone else I know.
The main theme, as I said above, is choices. And specifically how the Joker tries to form those choices for other people. Specifically the part with the ferries threw me. After my dad and I walked out of the theater, I asked him:
“So what did Batman prove, when the people didn’t blow up the ferries? That humans are basically good? I mean, as Christians we don’t hold to that, right?”
My dad gave me a look that said: “Of course we don’t believe that!” Then explained it like this: No, the movie didn’t prove that people are mostly good. It proved instead that the Joker didn’t have as much power over peoples’ decisions as he thought he did. See, through out the film, the Joker’s constant refrain is that he’s not after anything at all, or at least, he isn’t after anything logical. This is then backed up by several other characters… specifically Alfred. And while it is true that the Joker isn’t after money, I believe that he IS after something:
POWER.
By the end of the film Nolan takes that power away from him, and asserts that the choices made by the individuals in the movie were not indeed the Joker’s, they were their own. For example, Dent’s decision to murder the people that had wronged him, that was his own vendetta for vengeance… not the Joker’s.
In the end I think that this film makes a very powerful statement against terrorism. It does not work if we refuse to play the villains game. If we play along and run and hide, we have failed. But we are able, even in the face of evil, to make our own decisions, decisions that may define us for many, many years to come. This same concept applies to sin. We may be tempted, but as Christians, we are given the choice NOT to sin. I pray that we, like the convicts and civilians on the ferry, make the right choice… even if we don’t make it out alive.
5 out of 5. Definitely!
Until next time,
Scott
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Stuff I talk about
About Me
- Josiah Truax
- Va Beach, VA, United States
- Husband, son, brother, friend, box-kicker, Christian and writer of profound non-sequiturs.
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September 20129 years ago
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Turkey Pesto Bagel10 years ago
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Strategi bermain Golf11 years ago
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Unity (Part I)11 years ago
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In Which the Author said "Yes!"13 years ago
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Wouldn't you be?13 years ago
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Oh look. I found a funny video...14 years ago
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Blog Archive
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2008
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December
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- Writer's block
- Nick: part IV
- MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- Tomorrow was Christmas
- Airport, parts VII, VIII and IX
- Airport, part VI
- Airport, part V
- Airport, part IV
- Airport, part III
- Airport, part II
- I really loath airport security
- Punk Rock 101 by Bowling for Soup
- Time passes by...
- Bi-Polar
- Yet another apology.
- Pieces by Sum 41
- The little moments
- Josiah is wondering...
- Can't Believe it
- Back to My Roots
- (untitled emo poem)
- Adventures in Moscow (Idaho)
- His Favorite Christmas Story by Capital Lights
- Doom 3: The Movie
- Nick: Part III
- MCR: "Mental Catholic Romans"
- The sun rises
- Life...
- Nick part II
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November
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- ok, ok
- Movie review marathon!
- Coming Soon
- Nick
- Stop, just stop!
- Why I use the Canadian rating system
- Upcoming releases
- I've been tagged and I'm not tagging anyone else...
- I'm going to start listening to Christmas music...
- Pseudonym
- Review of "Quantum of Solace"
- 007
- Some advice to all my college friends:
- Dying/Living
- I'll Try
- New Stuff
- It has come...
- MxPx- "Before Everything and After"
- Hello again
- The Fall
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December
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