Golly. This is my first post. I was inspired to start a new blog and continue my sagging dreams of becoming a bloggist? blogger? (I think I'll go with bloggist. It sounds way cooler.) with a bunch of people that read this. I doubt that'll happen, but hey, a girl can dream, right?
I'm sure this blog will be forgotten about in a few weeks or when school starts and I don't have time or anything cool to write about. But here's to keeping my dream alive.
I'm sure this blog will be forgotten about in a few weeks or when school starts and I don't have time or anything cool to write about. But here's to keeping my dream alive.
I should probably start off (well, it's a little too late to start off, but whatever) this post with explaining how the forking heck I got the name of this blog. It's quite simple, actually, if you'll just read this next paragraphy thing. They're not really paragraphs, though, since they're not indented. But each pseudo-paragraph is indicated by a fabulous little space inbetween each clunk o' wordies. It might be more than one clunk.
So in my sciencey class, we had to make a map/chart/whatever you want to call it of the layers of the atmosphere. It had to include things that are in each layer. Did you know that airplanes fly in the Stratosphere? That's like... ten kilometers up. And so on our map/chart/whatever you want to call it thing, we decided that we needed something extremely bad-arse to represent a plane. At first we were thinking 'HMM. J.J. THE JETPLANE. HE'S PRETTY SEXOY.' but then we realized that young J.J. the Jetplane was not sexoy at all. We thought harder. Maybe it would be sexoy if he was a teenage jetplane! And rebellious too! So we drew a rebellious teenage jetplane. He had sunglasses and he was purple with green windows (which makes me realize now that we were idiots, since I think he was red).
And that's the story of J.J. the Rebellious Teenage Jetplane. I'm sure I'll be telling it to my grandchildren when I'm old and frail and still (hopefully) blogging on this bloggy and I'm totally famous.
Just to clarify, my name's not anything related to Willy Wonka or Jetplanes. It's Erin.
I think that since this is the first post, I should give a little intro about all my friendies since I call them pretty weird things.
So in my sciencey class, we had to make a map/chart/whatever you want to call it of the layers of the atmosphere. It had to include things that are in each layer. Did you know that airplanes fly in the Stratosphere? That's like... ten kilometers up. And so on our map/chart/whatever you want to call it thing, we decided that we needed something extremely bad-arse to represent a plane. At first we were thinking 'HMM. J.J. THE JETPLANE. HE'S PRETTY SEXOY.' but then we realized that young J.J. the Jetplane was not sexoy at all. We thought harder. Maybe it would be sexoy if he was a teenage jetplane! And rebellious too! So we drew a rebellious teenage jetplane. He had sunglasses and he was purple with green windows (which makes me realize now that we were idiots, since I think he was red).
And that's the story of J.J. the Rebellious Teenage Jetplane. I'm sure I'll be telling it to my grandchildren when I'm old and frail and still (hopefully) blogging on this bloggy and I'm totally famous.
Just to clarify, my name's not anything related to Willy Wonka or Jetplanes. It's Erin.
I think that since this is the first post, I should give a little intro about all my friendies since I call them pretty weird things.
I'll start with my 'family'.
Ex-wifey(or any variation on the word 'wife'), Wuffles, Libby, Mother of my children. If you hear any of those names, I'm talking about Libby. She used to be my wife, but I divorced her a few days ago (and I can't seem to remember why). We got married in Vegas (by the way, I'm so serious about Vegas. Ask any of our children and they're vouch for me) at the end of November of 2009. And our marriage ended so tragically four days ago (if you count me writing this at 2:30 in the freaking morning as the fourth day).
Turnip, Molly, Molly-wobbles, Jew(I promise I'm not racist!), Son. She'll most likely be called Turnip. Sometimes I forget what her real name is. It's a long story about her being named Turnip, so maybe I'll have that in the next post or in the near future. She's the brain-child of ex-wifey, but she's my son as well. SO I SHOULD GET AT LEAST HALF OF HER NOW THAT WE'RE DIVORCED.
Bethy-kun, Bethy, Bethany, Radish, The Other Asian. Bethy-kun is, as you can tell, AN ASIAN. And she's really cute when she's not pissed off. She makes funny noises and is another brain-child of ex-wifey. I WANT HALF OF HER.
The Asian(again, not racist. He doesn't mind being called that.), Nathanael, Daughter. He's the one with three names. It's not our fault, it's just that he was never around when we came up with fabulous names for people. Stupid Asian. Brain-child of my ex-wifey, and she said that I could keep him but he refused and I feel unloved by my children.
The last person is someone who is not part of my family. :D
Ellie!, Nellie, Nellie the Heartless, etc. Ellie is a fab person who is mental and hates trolls like Tara Gilbsie, (I have no idea about her last name) the chick who wrote My Immortal, the infamous Harry Potter fanfic starring Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. She's fab and weird and is in love with Jack Spicer from Xiaolin Showdown, a cartoon.
Ex-wifey(or any variation on the word 'wife'), Wuffles, Libby, Mother of my children. If you hear any of those names, I'm talking about Libby. She used to be my wife, but I divorced her a few days ago (and I can't seem to remember why). We got married in Vegas (by the way, I'm so serious about Vegas. Ask any of our children and they're vouch for me) at the end of November of 2009. And our marriage ended so tragically four days ago (if you count me writing this at 2:30 in the freaking morning as the fourth day).
Turnip, Molly, Molly-wobbles, Jew(I promise I'm not racist!), Son. She'll most likely be called Turnip. Sometimes I forget what her real name is. It's a long story about her being named Turnip, so maybe I'll have that in the next post or in the near future. She's the brain-child of ex-wifey, but she's my son as well. SO I SHOULD GET AT LEAST HALF OF HER NOW THAT WE'RE DIVORCED.
Bethy-kun, Bethy, Bethany, Radish, The Other Asian. Bethy-kun is, as you can tell, AN ASIAN. And she's really cute when she's not pissed off. She makes funny noises and is another brain-child of ex-wifey. I WANT HALF OF HER.
The Asian(again, not racist. He doesn't mind being called that.), Nathanael, Daughter. He's the one with three names. It's not our fault, it's just that he was never around when we came up with fabulous names for people. Stupid Asian. Brain-child of my ex-wifey, and she said that I could keep him but he refused and I feel unloved by my children.
The last person is someone who is not part of my family. :D
Ellie!, Nellie, Nellie the Heartless, etc. Ellie is a fab person who is mental and hates trolls like Tara Gilbsie, (I have no idea about her last name) the chick who wrote My Immortal, the infamous Harry Potter fanfic starring Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. She's fab and weird and is in love with Jack Spicer from Xiaolin Showdown, a cartoon.
I don't know what else to write about.
Maybe I should say that I'm NOT crazy, if I do seem like it. I am a paranoid person with a lot of random, irrational fears. My room is the sexiest place ever because it has xmas lights and lighting up Chinese-type lanterns and the coolest posters you will ever see (some of the ninja, face, zombie, Harry Potter, Star Wars, iPod, ravioli, Obama, Gir, and various music people variety.) I think what's on those posters says a lot about me and I don't really need to say any more for you to guess what kind of person I am.
It's 2:44:35 in the freaking morning as I'm writing this and I should be sleeping because I'm being forced against my will (almost a little redundant, don'tcha think? It's needed) to wake up at eight or something (which, by the way is in like, five hours) and swim at a freaking swim meet for a team I'm not even on. Golly. I quit that team so I could stay up late and type and sleep in.
Goodbye my lovely few people who will read this.
Maybe I should say that I'm NOT crazy, if I do seem like it. I am a paranoid person with a lot of random, irrational fears. My room is the sexiest place ever because it has xmas lights and lighting up Chinese-type lanterns and the coolest posters you will ever see (some of the ninja, face, zombie, Harry Potter, Star Wars, iPod, ravioli, Obama, Gir, and various music people variety.) I think what's on those posters says a lot about me and I don't really need to say any more for you to guess what kind of person I am.
It's 2:44:35 in the freaking morning as I'm writing this and I should be sleeping because I'm being forced against my will (almost a little redundant, don'tcha think? It's needed) to wake up at eight or something (which, by the way is in like, five hours) and swim at a freaking swim meet for a team I'm not even on. Golly. I quit that team so I could stay up late and type and sleep in.
Goodbye my lovely few people who will read this.
2 comments:
Welcome back to the blogosphere! You have an interestingly random first post. Loved it.
I look forward to reading more.
:D Thanks!
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