hye every body look at this!!!! its a convo i had wif some chick,

koleun says:
the word "subtle" is involved somewhere within said definition

Samantha says:
you and your big snotty words need to fuck off and stop talking to me

koleun says:
but you keep responding, and I'm having quite a lot of fun. As I'm saying nothing that a reasonable person would find offensive. And, yet, here you are; finding it offensive.

Samantha says:
mhmm

koleun says:
now, you've left me with nothing with that statement, as you never really said anything. But, what you did do for me is tell me, whether you know it or not, that you're still reading what I'm typing. That's also quite amuzing to me.

koleun says:
Finally, you've solved the puzzle of how to get me to stop typing at you. And, all I had to do was tell you what I was doing and the thing to do to make me stop.

koleun says:
I thought you'd like to know. I'm attracted to Lois Griffin.

Samantha says:
its funny how your wasting your time typing all this bullshit to me.

koleun says:
Even after I told you twice the way to make me stop, you keep responding.

Samantha says:
n id like you to know i think your the biggest goof i have ever talked to.

koleun says:
And, still. You continue to respond, knowing full well that it's fueling my desire, for whatever reason, to continue typing.

koleun says:
You know. I think I shall write my term paper for Psych on this behaviour. For, I cannot possibly comprehend your motivations in continually responding to this stimuli when you know its eventual outcome.

koleun says:
You're really quite fascinating

Samantha says:
thanks i get that alot.

koleun says:
You're very welcome. Do people also say things like "Hey, you don't make any fuckin sense" to you all the time also?

Samantha says:
nope

koleun says:
One would expect they would

Samantha says:
one would expect ur a faggot

koleun says:
Are there more like you, or are you some sort of interesting anomaly? Alone on your worthless and unknown cause.

koleun says:
If you don't mind, and I'm sure you don't; I'd just like to ask you a few simple questions. Just to see where in my study you fit. How old are you? What part of the world are you from? What's your yearly income? And, finally. Did you vote Republican last election?

Samantha says:
im uhhh 39.. im from China.. im poor n i dont vote

koleun says:
You know, falsified data will taint my findings, and I won't be able to make accurate representations regarding your specific disorder.

Samantha says:
thats just too bad

koleun says:
It really is, and I don't know if you knew this but, the disorder you suffer from; stupidity, its rampant among poor asains in their late thirties and early fourties. But, there is hope

koleun says:
I hope to one day find a cure.

Samantha says:
oh baby ur my cure.. cum in my mouth make me screaaaaaaam

koleun says:
No, in fact, I actually just vometed a little in my mouth.

Samantha says:
thats too bad cause you make me so wet

koleun says:
I'm not attracted to older, poorer, asianer women. I'm sorry

Samantha says:
who says im a woman

koleun says:
that's a good point, Samantha is a unisex name. Like Sarah, or Brittany

Samantha says:
um it isnt.. but okay

koleun says:
I think you misunderstood what I said.. but okay

Samantha says:
mkay

koleun says:
You bore me. Goodnight Samantha. I hope you enjoy your emo-hand poor asain man/woman sleep.

Samantha says:
how is that emo

Samantha says:
like honestly

koleun says:
How is anything emo? By being awesome. Emo just equals Awesome in my mind

Samantha says:
so you think im awesome?

koleun says:
How can you not see the connection? They both rhyme and are spelled the same.

Samantha says:
do not

Samantha says:
lick my cunt

koleun says:
What, in that previous statement could have possibly angered you?

Samantha says:
how is telling you to lick my cunt seemed angry?

koleun says:
I suppose the use of the word "cunt" with it's initial sound of the hard "C", it's one-syllableness and the final "T" sound that makes that statement seem angry

Samantha says:
LICK MY VAGINA

Samantha says:
better?

koleun says:
Yes, though I'd still rather not perform any sexual act with you. Including oral sex. Though, I did just discover that you really are a poor, thirty-nine year old asian woman, as I previously thought.

Samantha says:
lol fuck you.. you know i was joking

koleun says:
I knew no such thing. I took what you said to be true. Why would you lie to me about such trivial things. You become more and more intriguing with each statement you utter. Though, please. Stop speaking to me. I must ignore my work and prepare for tomorrow.

Samantha says:
you must ignore your work?

koleun says:
Yes.

koleun says:
It makes sense, you're just not viewing the words with the proper sight. What I meant was, that I must ignore you, and this conversation, which is my "work", which is collecting data to help cure stupidity. Which you suffer from.


That's where she didn't respond for over twenty minutes. She still hasn't, but I've claimed a huge victory at this point and thought the conversation was done. I was right.

to every one that wants to read this,

What i've grown to realize is that whenever i meet someone, that first 20 seconds is all they know about me, it allows me to form the person that they meet. Being mindful of all emotions, actions and words allows me to create the person that I am from the person I want to be.

As a person knows me for longer, that image becomes diluted. Not necessarily a bad thing. But, your life is your tapestry rachel, and you are the painter.

Grab that fucking brush and paint, girl.

and, what's the worste that could happen?

Bodily harm?

Emotional harm?

Death?

All these things, though painful don't scare me.

well, the feeling of the unknown does.

But that's about it.

The possibilities are infinite

Who do you WANT to be?

How do you want to behave.

What do you want people to know about you?

What do you want them to see when they look at you.

Look for it in others and they'll see it in you.

You judge, you see them judging.

Love all and all will love you.

It's not those with all the answers that know everything, but those with the questions.

So, I'm gonna stop now.

afternoons and coffee spoons,

Someday I'll wear

Pajamas in the daytime

someday i'll have

a disappearing hairline...

Perhaps not. I've got a lot up there. Strangely, my hairline is disappearing, but it's moving from the outside in, not the front back, back front or everywhere at once.

Just got off the phone with Marlene. Old boss. Sort of. Barnie's daughter. Love her.

Here I sit, in my seated position. Legs bent, back straight, eyes only slightly glazed over.

If you've got access to Afternoons and Coffeespoons, put it on.... Now. I'm about to. There it goes.

I've succeeded in finding myself employment in Victoria, British Columbia. Well, sort of, Sooke. At adventuresooke. rads.

What the hell am I going to write about? I don't feel like I've got anything worth sharing with the world inside my head. Without the inspiration of another person, I'm left with the void of my own being. Too many possibilities bounce around my head. From images of the dogs that would abe showing in the room if I opened my eyes, then they stop and I focus only on the keys, my fingers, remembering where each key is, stroking it with expert precision. Perhaps a spelling mistake here or there. Inspiration at last.

This morning I woke up in a park. In vic, a person acan camp in any park between the hours of seven and seven. It's pretty much the greatest thing of all time. If there was a name for the person that wrote these things, it would be speakable with the toungue of a dog. A simple bark to let the world know that I'm here.

I close my eyes again, and listen to some song lyrics. They bounce around enough to make a person wonder why music even exists. Well, it makes me wonder why music exists. Plahying music can be quite liberating. Liberating from thought, fear and self0oppression in much the same way that dancing can be. I applied to a dance instructor position. I hope they respond to my email.

Currently clothed, though naked yoga is the greatest yoga and spiders are fearful of onions. They hate them.

Eyes closed. A thought of a lotus is again overshadowed by the images of spiders and dogs. The wolf spider, with spider body and senses, a wolf's head and the temperament of the king of spider rock. Her spell is that of carnage and her spirit is reversed like the inside of a volume contar.

Feared enemy of the wolf spider is Hermetacles. But the rivalry between Hermetacles and the wolf spider is overshadowed by the loathing the spider has for Leeroy McTavish, slayer of spiders and wolves alike. All sizes. Wrist-mounted miniature crossbow locked and loaded, with onion-tipped bolts at the ready.

He moves silently through the forest as only a man raised in such a place could. Carefully, he picks his way along the rocks, careful not to slip, step too heavily. Rocks stay where they were, unaware that "The" Roy has made his way through the area. Once a party of three, El Keego and Johnny Boy dropped off after the first apex of the mission. Even their lights are unable to find The Roy.

The lagoon to his right is a lagoon that has been around since the dawn of time. This was the stuff that birthed the first beings. Things which existed. THINGS WHICH LIVED. tHINGS WHICH EVENTUALLY CRAWLED THEIR WAY OUT. Crawled their way out to contemplate the pools from which they came in some distant past from some distant future. The Roy was a being whose contemplations of the moon led his mind to the center of the sun. In a cycle that included the mind, moon and sun, but that was a future The. A The that does not yet. But soon will. Is becoming. The lagoon is filled with the most basic and sensitive of terrestrial creatures. Creatures with no spines, which live in the saline depths of the warm post-mordial stew. I love those creatures in a way they cannot love one another. He hopes to one day achieve something for their benefit. So they may some day crawl out of that soup. But, he's got to pick up a shit ton more garbage first.

The moved mindfully across the darkened rocks on the shore. Lighted only by the moon. not a full moon. Fading. It's star power, being poured out. Back into the sky where they belong. He dare not light his plastic, yellow flashlight purchased for him by his grandmother in a moment of sheere frustration on both of their parts, for then his post-comrades would spot him, allowing them to find him; stopping him from completing his mission. This mission, as it will forever be known. The Kraft Dinner Mission. Or KDM.

The premise for the mission was simple.

Lead a small party across the island, to the edge of the lagoon and prepare. One standard issue Kraft Dinner. Water only directions. It sounded so easy.

With the scouting and party leading ability of The Roy, the treck across the island was easy. Staff in hand, he led his companion through the elven village, filled with the children of the forest with much ease.l For you see, The Roy once lived in those parts, and knew the lands well. He was friendly with the locals. They were his friends. The wild mushrooms they had eaten together gave them all the strength of the forest. But, the forest was empty now, their laughter and cries are no longer heard, and the darkness is now. Tough to see in the dark. Even for the Roy.

The Roy leads, lighted only from behind, through the elven forest, by the darkened pathy of stumpwood. Rotten odours lift from the forest floor, tickling the nose of The Roy. Disorientation. Confusion. Panic. It obviously grips The Roy, as he spins, gasps and begs for the light. His companion does as instructed and becomes relieved to learn that The Roy has regained his orientation. His panic has subsided.

this is a story i wrote, and i want your comments, so leave them k

I yawn, it's been a long and somewhat tiring day. I've got my sleep rhythms down to a science and no longer need the use of my alarm clock to ensure that I am awake in time to gather my thoughts and begin my so called day. I refer to a day as the time between my waking and my sleeping in preparation for the next day.

I woke up this morning, round 4:30, maybe 5:30, matters not. I stretched whilst watching the news and then ate a breakfast which consisted of...

 nothing...

Yesterday I did two things that scared me. Well, one thing that scared me and one that was extremely difficult. I've been climbing walls that simulate that feeling that I assume one would get when they're climbing real life rocks outside in places that have rocks of the right size and shape that one could climb. On the purple route of rope six at the university of saskatchewan, there is a ledge that is exceedingly difficult to climb past as a result of a lack of holds (rocks) and the distance between them. I made a deal with myself. I climb this one obstacle and finally, when accomplished, go talk to this cute blonde girl that I see nearly everyday, regardless of what it is that i'm doing. There was once a time when talking to girls for the first time was an effortless task that required little or no effort on my part. I do, after all, believe myself to be at least somewhat attractive. BUT, a lack of connection with anyone in the recent past combined with my simply not being social has made me somewhat awkward in recent history. Or as I like to call it when it refers to me needless to say, I climb the wall and talk to the girl, which goes horribly, but it matters not. That's something that I have to keep in mind again, that not every woman I'm going to talk to matters as much as I think they do.

Another interesting thing happened to me recently. Ashlee Infinity Dawn Hulsey my girlfriend that i asked out just a fraction of an hour ago showed up at my locker today again. Each time is more interesting to me than the last, for reasons I don't know. I'm still, for many reasons infatuated with this girl. I realized after I typed that why I am. She's a good friend. Good friends make the best partners as you should always be friends first. Alas, perhaps this relationship will be the one i have been longing for, but i will just put those thought aside for now and simply enjoy the company that is AIDH.

I open the front doors of school, and push past the people that are waiting for the bus. Each one has something to keep them distracted from the fact that a new person has entered their potential area of consciousness. Headphones adorn the heads of most, while others are text messaging those that are more important than anyone around them. A blast of hot air hits me from the fans and heaters that are located just inside the front doors. A smell, well a combination of smells really. Hits my nose. Bag lunches perhaps with a hint of chap stick and perfume. I ponder why people wear the stuff, the odor is infinitely worse than even the most stench of human gas expulsions. I open the second door and notice the wonderful brick work on the ground, a large room that houses the help slash information desk, the smell of this area can only be described as that which those whom are contained within it's walls emanate. I head to the stairs whilst skillfully removing my woolen mittens and toque. I pack them into my bag as I move towards the lunchroom. As i enter the cafeteria i eat as fast as I humanly can. Dangerous, because i might choke... it gives me a bit of a stomach ache , also how good that movie was last night flashes through my mind and on at least some level believe that challenging my brain to ensure that my some sort of hand or foot slash brain co ordination walking requires, i keep pondering the inner depths of my mind until i reach the end of the hallway, At the end of the hallway my eyes return to eye level from their direct lock on the floor to see if anyone was watching my creepy blank stare. thank the creator, as there are none. I've just entered mrs. young’s room, which is akin to some sort of teaching slash insane asylum that contains a few of my good friends. Alongside this local university business is the mass of evil that I refer to as the lunch room at approximately eleven o’ clock. The smell is almost sickening to me as is the line of people that pay money to put that horrible product into their bodies. Past that is a “hot lunch”  line with food that I barely register as existing unless I am starving and a staff that are non-receptive to even my most incredible smile. Alas, even i can't win em’ all over. I soon leave the cafeteria and proceed outside, i am immediately surrounded my cold air, and i realize i forgot my gloves and toque in my bag, because i refuse to stand in this so called winter wonderland we call catoosa i go in side to the horrors of the library. This large, uncomfortable area is the space that those who dine on the delicious products (not food) of Albert and Walters typically come to feast. Eyes down or hands deep inside grease stained paper bags searching for that last, forgotten fry, they too seemingly ignorant of my presence. seeking fun and enjoyment i head through a doorway that leads into a wide hallway with classrooms on one side and a room full computers, and a restroom on the other. Looking left, I not how this has become the main place in the school for those needing a Facebook fix to get just that. Drunken photos of weekends past are up on nearly every screen, so predictable... then the bell rings and the time comes for my favorite class, art but upon entry of the class room i am immediately pummeled by an invitation to the art contest mrs currie had planned for the most gifted students in her eighth grade class. “Sounds fun,” i say but do you really wanna go to an art contest just to get brutalized by all of the fantastic art students from across the state, Realizing that it's not something for me I say “but no thanks,”  I move past and see a wonderful painting done by another of my friends Spencer Plumlee,I find myself lost in the the many colors and artistry of the painting examining every individual brush stroke, the i hear the bell ring it seems i have lost all track of time and spent virtually an entire hour looking at a piece of paper, but i am an easily distracted individual so i am not surprised, and I have this horrible tendency to make an ass of myself when I lose something that I don't desire to do at the moment.  after sixth hour I feel the pangs of hunger biting at my stomach I ignore the buses parked in front of the school and turn my attention to the most misinterpreted of the fast food stores that plagues north america. McDonald’s. Once a trusted name with delicious freshly food and mediocre coffee with somewhat healthy sandwiches, their efforts at streamlining have caused everything to go down in both preparation time and nutritional value, but when you are hungry and you are american we don't care how many calories are in it we just want tasty food, and McDonald’s  is pretty good. I took the “double quarter pounder” or as some skinny blonde next to me as i placed my order called it, “a heart attack on a bun”. I sit at a table and call my mother to pick me up and she says it may be a wile before she may get off work, in my head i was thinking “oh my god woman is it not possible for you to call father that is at home most likely sitting in his chair watching basket ball and what not,” but i have some common sense and to avoid further grief when i get home i say “its fine i will just wait here,”  

I just got a blogger!!! and im still tryin to figure it out