Poodles are fun things.

So darlings. I'm sitting in a library. It's a closed library, but we begged and begged to be let in. We are so amazing at begging that it just happened to work. So now I'm sitting in the library with Etsie (read her version of poodles HERE, just look for a post of the same name) and we decided to both blog and now we have to blog about the same thing. She found a random blog post idea generator, and it came up with 'Poodles are fun things'. I have no idea what that means or what it wants, but I will try my freaking best. :D

So on the topic of what we're supposed to be blogging about. Poodles. I have a half-poodle creature thing. It's evil and barks. She's a corgi-poo. We got her a year ago when my grandmother decided that she was lonely with me and my brother at school and my parents at work. Therefore, we had to get a dogbeast.

She does weird things and she's obsessed with her laser thing that she chases. She has this nervous twitch whenever she's by the piano, where we keep it, and she's always glancing up there like TWITCH TWITCH. I totally switched the picture that I hard originally for an actual one of Fang. Look up. She looks all mental and posed and for a second I thought it looked like a painting, but this is the only good picture I have of my dogbeastie.

That's really not saying that poodles are fun things, though.

But... in the winter when I go sledding sometimes, I bring her with me, and she pulls me down the hill and bites me. It's fun. Except the biting part. It's only because she gets freaked out that the sled thingy is like... chasing her or something.

I think this is all I have to say about poodles. Truthfully, they scare me.

My mother almost kinda-sorta could have run over an old man on Saturday.

I am very well aware that it's been...er... more than a week since I last blogged. I feel quite terrible about it. But I do not feel terrible that I am actually doing my homework and I'm doing extracurricular things as well. And I'm not being the anti-social person I was last year, cause last year I would go home as soon as school was over and just sleep.

Also, I was planning on posting this two days ago (Saturday) but then Blogger decided to hate me and when it started working again, Firefox quit, so I took it as a sign that I was not meant to blog that night.

So. Attention all ye stalkers. I'm going to be giving hints whereish I liveish. Not really kinda. But if you're an amazing stalker, then I bet you can figure it out. Not that I'm inviting you to do that or anything. But yeah. But I'm only giving this disclaimer because I have a flag counter that says that I have viewers from other countries. So maybe people other than my friends read this.

So. We live in a town where we have obnoxious football fans storming the stadium once a week during the fall. And it just so happens that my mother's friend from like... middle school that she still nerds with weekly is a policey person who has to make sure people don't get themselves run over. And so my mother decides most every week to be a nice person and bring her hot chocolate or chocolate or something yummy so that she doesn't die. I'm always forces along because my mother has to drive and I hop out and we meet at a secret location.

On this occasion, people were being stupider than usual and biking into the street in front of us while we're going pretty fast and they're walking in the street and augh. And we were stopped kinda close to where my mom's friend was. So I was all 'Hey, I'll just get out now, toodles.'

AND THERE'S THIS OLD MAN ON THE SIDEWALK. And I don't know what he's doing. Right before I got out, it looked like he was going in a circle or something. And when I got out, I think I might have freaked him out or something, and he fell in front of my mother's car. She was stopped. But he was still on the ground. And I was just standing there with my jaw on the ground, holding a hot cocoa while some smart people from the sidewalk help him up. And my mom told me to leave the scene of the crime, which I totally think was illegal or something. And I delivered the hot cocoa all shocked-like.

That was my little adventure of the week.

I'm home sick today from school since my darling wifey probably gave me her disease. I have the icky sore throat and I couldn't sleep at all last night. And I think I will wrap up this post so that I can eat ice cream and watch a sick movie.

I often have weird reasons for hating things like superman ice cream, mangas and Oscar the Grouch.

I totally hate superman ice cream. But not for the reason you might think. I don't think it tastes all that terrible. It's okay and has a weird aftertaste.

My real reason for hating/giving up hope in superman ice cream when I was a child was because I was pissed off that it didn't turn me into superman. So I decided to hate superman ice cream for all time. And I was only reminded of it today when all the little children at my cousin's birthday party wanted superman ice cream. Prepare to be disappointed, little children things. I hope they know that their hopes and dreams and everything that they ever wanted will be soon ripped to shreds. Just like what happened to me.

I hated Oscar the Grouch when I was little for one irrational reason. I hate that ugly color green. It's like.... vomit. And baby-food peas. And death. All mixed together with a hideous voice.

I cannot stand most mangas. They're so vague. I have to have things spelled out for me to understand, so mangas are not necessarily my strongest point. The worst thing is that all my friends read mangas obsessively and are always discussing it and I want to watch the anime of it, but they seem to tell me not to because it's either so different or it sucks really badly. But, in other news, LOOK UP. IT'S LOVELESS. PEDO!!! That is one manga I actually might try and read. I might annoy my friends horribly, though.

Also, I seem to have given up all hope in blogging. School has sucked all possible life from me. I'm channeling my life into other fabulous things, though. So it's kind of okayish. Maybe. I'm trying to figure out what my next poll should be.

Sometimes I hate how it makes sense in my life to say "Don't fling sushi into the elevator shaft."

It's sad that things like sushi and elevator shafts often come together into the same sentence. When they really shouldn't.

The first week of school is over. According to my Latin teacher, there are only thirty-five weeks left of school now. Scoreee.

I really have nothing to blog about. My brain has been focusing on school and reading and things of that nature.

I might post a review tomorrow on a book that I just finished called The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin. If I can get a firmer grasp on the entire thing. It's really confusing.

It's lovely to officially say that I am no longer a freshman.

Sophomore, I am.

I have a giant S thing for sophomore. I don't know why. But I know that I didn't want to choose the first hit on google when you search 'sophomore' because it's of two chicks with their shirts off on top of a bridge over a highway.

And I am so tired from the first day of schoolness and junk that I am going to fall asleep before double digit hours.

You may be arrested if you wear hideously colored clothing.

So... school starts tomorrow. I definitely won't be able to blog every day. So I have decided that I will blog on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Maybe the occasional Sunday. I do know that I WILL blog four times a week.

Anyways, I have decided that for the first day tomorrow, I will paint my nails rainbow. Since that's the only day I ever bother trying to paint my nails. I have more important things to paint other days.
I've had to alter the rainbow for ten fingers, though. It's somewhat terrible because I have no good blues and I might cry.

Earlier I went for a walk with my dog and brother (why him, I don't know, at least he's good at picking up dog poo) around my entire neighborhood. He spat in my face and kicked me several times and failed to control the dog. I totally googlemapped the entire walk and it was four miles.

I was also at the Renaissance Festival and while we were there, we saw someone with such a hideously colored shirt (see: neon yellow-green), much like othe one pictured above. And every time we saw it out of the corner of our eyes, they burned.  So we all chipped in a bit of money and had the girl arrested. I bet she's still confused who had her arrested. And we yelled at a little boy with a similar colored shirt and warned him of what we did to the girl. He and his mother laughed and kept glancing over to the jail nervously.

All in all, today was a pretty fabulous last day of summer.

Baseball bats and hula hoops are two things that should never be mentioned in the same sentence.

Everyone knows that this weekend is Labor Day Weekend. I don't know if all those words should be capitalized and frankly, I don't really care. And on LABOR DAY WEEKEND, people barbecue. My family decided to have our barbecue tonight with all of their/our nerds that come over on Sundays to play D&D/Champions. They brought their FAMILIES.

I haven't seen the family people in a while, and it was like visiting my memories from when I was seven. Absolutely nothing has changed. For example...

We still go to the park near my house and run around giggling like a bunch of three year olds even though our youngest in the group of children is six or so and the oldest of us has just left for college.

We still have hula hooping contests in the front yard and time how long I can go for and when I'm just getting going, at six minutes Johnathan still comes at me with a baseball bat.

We still try and play hide and go seek and when it comes Krissy's turn to find people, she doesn't do anything.

Not that all of that stuff actually happened in the past, but similar things did occur.

Now I must rest for tonight is the last night before tomorrow. That really made no sense. I have to get up early for two reasons. One, Renaissance Festival. Two, I need to try and get back on a normal sleep schedule.

VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE VILLAIN, GOSHDARNIT.

There are three books that I cannot finish no matter how hard I try.

There are only three books in all of existence that I have tried to read but absolutely could not finish because I thought it was so horrible or I just hated how the story was going. I am planning on trying to finish one of them before Tuesday, though. Maybe. Probably not, though.

Book number one... The strangely semi-popular Eragon series thing. I'll list off all the things that I find wrong with it.

• Wasn't it supposed to be just two books then moved to a triogy and now four? I hate it when authors do that. Like Smeyer. I wouldn't mind it if Suzanne Collins did it. I want another Hunger Games book, possibly from the point of view of Peeta.
• I never really was into the whole fantasy dragon stuff. Sci-fi and supernatural things are more my style. 
• The writing is overly... over. Y'know what I'm talking about, don'tcha?
• He wrote it when he was what... sixteen or seventeen? I've spoken to people before about how people should wait to publish their novels until they're older because their writing style changes and it's all weird. And I've had angsty conversations with Wiffy on this topic. Specifically referencing this author guy. Which I can't remember. Christopher P....
• The intro is so long and boring. I just remember just a flood of detail and I was what... eleven or twelve when I tried to read it? I don't care about all the whatevers of the forest and all the complicated things that I can't be bothered to remember now. I just know that there was a rock/egg thing.

I can't think of anything else at the moment. But I have to say that there is one thing that I admire about the author guy. Apparently it's been two years since his last book came out and people are going insane waiting for the fourth and he's not succumbing to the pressure, which is what I think Suzanne Collins did. That's probably why Hunger Games was the best of the trilogy because she had no one to bother her about finishing it but herself. And Catching Fire she had a lot of people which was why the time in the arena was so short. And before Mockingjay there we so many rabid fans, we can say safely that the reason that the ending was so rushed and Finnick didn't even get a paragraph was because she has succumbed to pressure.

Every girl reads the second book in elementary school/middle school. My friends were always talking about it and when they asked me what I thought of it, I always shrugged it off and said that I didn't really like it. They ignored me and continued. I never really opened a copy of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants until I got it for Christmas from my grandparents two years ago. Whuppee. I decided that I had nothing better to do over winter break, so I tried to read it. I could not get past the tenth page, I just hated the writing style so much. And it was just so cliched. I don't mind the movie, though. I watch it occasionally on sick days along with the Harry Potter movies, Finding Nemo, The Emperor's New Groove and Charlie's Angels.

The third book I read last summer along with its prequel, Peeps. It's by Scott Westerfeld and it's called The Last Days. I don't know why I hated it so much. Scott Westerfeld is one of my heroes and I love all of his books. Except that one. It just bothered me so much. I totally know what happens, though, since Wiffy told me.

And now, since it's one in the morning and I plan to get up early to go biking for a long time and then BBQ and then dance in the streets, I shall retire. Also, please vote on my villain poll.

P.S., school starts the day after tomorrow.

P.P.S., I want a pet octopus.

What. I am so confused.

I was going to have a fabulous blog post, but I totally forgot about it since I think I'm going crazy. The music I'm listening to sounds like it's speeding up and then slowing down and I can't remember what I'm trying to type.

And I just came back a little later with the intention of adding onto this and I saw that there were a lot of weird mistakes. I think my brain was randomly messed up for a minute or two.

And I still need to sleep because I'm making random careless mistakes. I PROMISE something fabulous tomorrow because all I have to do tomorrow is go to lunch for my Grandma's birthday.

Also, don't forget to VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE VILLAIN OF ALL TIME.

Ha Ha!

Haha. And you all thought this was a real post, didn't you?

Tonight is officially my night off.

How to tell if YOUR facebook friend is a person that should be associated with (by MY standards). Warning: Extremely accurate.

Screw that. Screw good guys. Everyone loves the bad guys. Especially like, children of bad guys. For example, DRACO MALFOY. He's beautiful. Especially in that picture. Recently blogger has been hating me and it's not been letting me put pictures where I want (for example, I want some words above that picture, but it won't let me).

Somehow, the clock has magically turned to quarter after twelve. And I need to get up earlyish to babysit and I got next to no sleep last night so I'm screwed and why am I so intent on blogging every day?

Facebook. That can be the only reason I haven't blogged. I've been busy looking at people's profiles, looking at their number of friends, frequency of relationship status changes, whether or not their middle name is correct, number of swear words in statuses, lack of grammar and spelling in statuses, and sluttiness of pictures. From all those factors, I can decide if they're the kind of person I would associate myself with on a regular basis or if they're the kind of person who I wouldn't touch with a fifty-foot stabby. Maybe I would. To stab them, y'know.

How to tell if YOUR facebook friend is not to be associated with. Note: works best with girls.

1. Number of friends. Not always completely accurate, sometimes they just know a lot of people (maybe they moved or something). 1-200, one point. 201-400, three points. 401 plus, five points.
2. Frequency of relationship status changes. Usually very accurate. Over a three week period of time... 0-1 changes, one point. 2-3, three points. 4 plus, five points.
3. Middle names. Usually quite accurate. If it is their actual name, one point. If it is a commonly used nickname or something not too daunting, three points. If it is something along the lines of 'Bob PrEtTyHaIrLoVe Smith', five or seventy points. Your choice.
4. Frequency of swear words in statuses. Semi-accurate. Look at ten statuses. 0-3, one point. 4-8, three points. 9 plus, five.
5. Grammar and spelling in statuses. Very accurate. Two statuses, punctuation and capitalization count. 0-2 mistakes, one point. 3-6 mistakes, three points. 7 plus mistakes, five points.
6. Sluttiness level of pictures (profile picture especially). Very accurate. Low sluttiness level, one point. Medium sluttiness level, three points. High and above sluttiness level, five plus points.

Scoring—
6-18— CONGRATULATIONS! You have found the type of person that Erin would assosiate herself with!
18-25— You have found the type of person that Erin tolerates most of the time.
25 and BEYOND—Erin would not stab this person with a fifty-foot stabby.

Also, people should vote on the top left thing on the poll.