My Life has been Taken Over

By ponies.

Specifically, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

I believe that technically this may make me what is referred to on the Interwebs as a "brony."  However, I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable with that title, as I am not a bro.  I am a lady (like Rarity.)

You see, I have been sick all of this past week, so I have been staying home, in great need of something to comfort me (or perhaps to love and tolerate me.)  Enter ponies.

So.  Many.  Ponies.

 Once I started watching the first episode of season one, I was hooked.  I began watching episode after episode on YouTube, in an attempt to catch up to the current season.  I spent unhealthy amounts of time tying to decipher whom my friends most resembled.  (Sassafras Jones is so totally Twilight Sparkle it is not even funny.)

By the way, I'm a horrible person who just Googles things and isn't overly fond of proper citation.  I apologize.  Hold on for just one second.  Snajperpl on DeviantArt is responsible for this glorious display.  Feel free to stalk.

I have a serious problem.  I can't stop myself.  (In much the same way that Apple Bloom couldn't stop herself when she got Cutie Pox!)

Save me from myself.  Please.

(Or don't.  I secretly love my pony addiction.)

I Know You're all Probably Sick of Me Never Really Posting Anything Worthwhile any More, and With Good Reason, but I Have a Legitimate OOH KITTENS

Yeah, I don't actually really have a legitimate reason for not posting anything ever any more, except that maybe I'm about to go over psycho falls in the crazy canoe and I have a bizarre and all-consuming obsession with the Sims.

Oh look, kittens!

AND A PUPPY

And Scruffy!

Basically, what I'm doing here is trying to bribe you all with cute/hilarious animal pictures so you don't hate me any more.

Is it working?

No?  How about this?

I give up.

Predicting the Future with Friends

So, I was having a grand old time with my very good band friends on Friday, and we were discussing what college would be like.  Apparently, it's going to go like this:

I'm going to go off to far away lands and triple major at a private college, thereby making me a recluse and extremely poor.  After I triple major, I'm going to go to another college that's actually in my home state to get a master's degree in trombone.  Why?  So I can be in their marching band, of course.

Really.  That's the only reason.

The Destroyer/David Hasselhoff (You remember her.  We went swimming together.  She plays the trumpet) will go off to that in-state college and be in their marching band from the get-go.  At around week three, she will have a mental breakdown from the stress of homework combined with the stress of so many intensive band practices.  After three days of psychosis, she will stand up and declare the she is the Destroyer/David Hasselhoff and ain't nobody gon get her down nuh-uh.   After she has been at that college for three years, I will begin my master's degree in trombone, and join her in the marching band.  She will have predicted my arrival down to the last second, and when I arrive, she will be petting her trumpet, saying "I've been expecting you."  Only I will be a few seconds late.  She will ask if the elevator got stuck (at which point there is a flashback to me sawing at the elevator cable while the first-chair trombone player stands inside) "Yes," I will reply.  "On a totally unrelated note, though, I'm now the first-chair trombone player!"

Then we will go on to kick butt, only we'll be really poor.  We won't have enough money to drive back home, so we'll go over to our high school band teacher's house because she only lives on campus.  There we will tell her horror stories about how we cut off all our hair and sold it for drugs, then how we sold the drugs for food money.

And that's as far as we got.  I really don't know why I write this stuff down.

I Have Claimed a Nemesis

He's my nemesis because I called dibs, and the King/Archbishop of Marching Band already has a nemesis, also, because I have seniority (a booyah.)

I don't know where that last part came from (the part that secretly loves Kim Possible and thinks Ron is actually kind of cute.

You know you love him too.

Also, on an unrelated note, this was kind of awesome:

That is all.)

That's great, subconscious, can I have my blog post back now?

(yes.)

Thank you.

(I'm not making any guarantees, though)

*Sigh*  Fair enough.

Anyway.

Today I claimed a nemesis.  Why?  Because I need a good nemesis to spice up my last year in Quiz Bowl, and the King/Archbishop of Marching Band has always had a nemesis, and, frankly, I've been feeling slightly jealous.  There.  I said it.  ARE YOU HAPPY?

(Pay no heed to the caps lock.  She's a little unstable lately.)

I HEARD THAT!

(Heard what?  I didn't hear anything.  Except maybe the nice little chit-chat I was having with this lovely reader of yours.)

*Snake eyes*  I'm watching you.

(Alright then.)

Exactly.

Back to Nemesis.

Nemesis is on the Quiz Bowl team that was totally crazy good last year when they had this one really awesome guy, but now he's graduated, and so we actually sort of stand a chance against them.

Enter Nemesis.

Scout's honor, the boy answered most of the questions asked in that match.  AND EVERY TIME HE BUZZED IN, I KNEW THE ANSWER.  And if he would've just gotten the answer wrong, then I would have been able to get the point, but NOOOOOO.  He's got to go and get all the answers RIGHT like a JERKFACE.

(He's not really a jerkface.)

Fine.  I suppose he's not really a jerkface, but from now on, we shall never be friends. 

I will make sure of that

Mwahaha...ahahaha....AHAHAHAHA....AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ahem.

I apologize.  I haven't been sleeping well.

Nemesis shall be conquered, or I will...do...something.

(It will be poorly-thought out and even more poorly executed, if it ever happens at all.)

Why do you have to be so mean?

(Because you're off your rocker right now, and you need someone to help you back on.)

So you're going to shove me back onto my rocker with verbal abuse?

(It's really more of a forceful guiding...of love.)

Oh, because THAT makes sense.

(It does.)

Screw You Guys, I Hate High School

Me: I really wish I wasn't so stressed.  What I need is a school day without much going on where I can stay home sick and not go insane.

High School:  Oh, yeah, I can do that.  Here:  You have practices Monday and Tuesday, a calc test on Wednesday, a world history test on Thursday and an anatomy test on Friday.

Me:  Are you completely insane?  That's not what I wanted at all.

High School:  Sure it is!  I know that you said that you don't want to be stressed, and you don't want to go insane, but deep down, I know that that's really a cry for more stress and insanity-inducing schoolwork.

Me:  Is this a joke?  Am I on Punked?  Where's Ashton?  Was I not important enough to get Ashton?  Or maybe this is Candid Camera come back from the dead, because there is absolutely no way that anyone is so stupid to think that when I say I don't want to lose my marbles, I really mean that I desperately want someone to smack my marbles out of my hands and scatter them to the ends of the Earth.

High School:  So I guess that means that that's going to be a "no" on the concessions stand working on Thursday?

Me:  I can't even look at you right now.

That is why I have not posted for many many weeks.  I know that I have let you all down (because you all definitely sit around on the computer, waiting with bated breath for the moment I next post) but I have good reason.  My entire life has been like this ever since school started.  Scratch that:  my lack of a life has been like this ever since school started.  And now I'm going insane.  Case in point:  last week.

Me:  Ah!  It's homecoming week!  As a member of Student Council, I have duties that I must fulfill, as well as dealing with any problems with the parade and/or dance that may arise as a result of crappy weather/wrath of the cosmos.  And, as if that weren't enough, I have to write an essay on a topic I don't understand, which is due on the night of the dance, and I still have to find a dress for the dance!  Could my life get any worse?

Life:  Yes I can.

Me:  Oh, please, don't.

Life:  Oh, fo shizzle, I'm about to throw wrenches all up in this heezy.  Brb, I'm gonna go get my posse.

Biology:  Activate:  Hormonal imbalance!

Me:  Ah!  *Lose 10 Patience*

Nature: FRICK YEAH, ALLERGENS!!

Me:  NOOOOO!! *coughcoughhackcoughcoughsneeze*

High School:  Who's ready for quizzes and busy work all up in this biscuit??  I AM!!

Me:  Please...no...have mercy...

Mom:  HAVE YOU PICKED OUT YOUR SENIOR PICTURES YET HAVE YOU STARTED APPLYING TO COLLEGES YET HAVE YOU LOOKED AT SCHOLARSHIPS YET WHY DON'T YOU HAVE  A NOBEL PRIZE I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH MORE THAN THIS BLAH BLAH BLAH NAG

Me:  *cowers beneath table in an attempt to discourage Mom*

Weather:  Oh, I'm looking ominous, aren't I?  Whatcha gonna do?  WHATCHA GONNA DO?  Oh!  What if I decide to rain?  What then?  OH MY GOSH CHECK OUT THIS WIND I JUST COOKED UP, THIS IS LEGIT, SON.  Yeah, you're definitely going to have to skip your anatomy class and totally change the whole judging setup.  WOOHOO!  LOOK AT ME GO!!!


Me:  Why is this happening to me?

Homework:  Oh my gosh, guess what?  I just got married!  TO INSOMNIA!!!  We're so happy!  You're going to be seeing a lot of us, especially this week.

Me:  *whimpers pathetically*

Calculus:  Wsdlkfjaoisdaga d; vfas;d fva;lkdsjf vaoidfvasdkf v;laksd a;sdlk jfaoiw ccfe;kajs d;fklja ;sldk fca;kjsa;lk jdfva;lksjd f;lkaj ;sdlk f;akj vs;dlkjfac ;lj ds;lfjv as;ldk vfa;lksj dflkjad ﾁﾄｼﾊﾘﾉﾁﾏﾄｼﾊﾘﾉﾏﾁﾄ ﾊﾘﾁﾉ ﾄﾏｼ ﾊﾁﾚﾄﾘﾉｼﾏﾊ ﾋﾁﾚﾘﾉﾄｼﾏﾊ ｺﾋﾁﾉﾏｸﾁﾏﾆﾓｲﾓﾁﾄｸﾆｶｲﾀﾗﾃｲﾆｽﾅﾉﾐﾋﾓﾐﾂﾈｻﾓｿﾊﾉﾁｸｼﾄﾘﾆｽﾅﾁﾃｸﾝﾘﾆﾅｽｸﾋ ﾁﾉﾏﾄｼﾊｸ ﾘﾋﾉﾁﾏﾄｸｼ ﾋﾁﾏﾄｼｸ ﾘﾉﾊﾁﾏ ﾄｸﾋｼﾘﾉ ｸ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me:  Was that even English?  Or Japanese, for that matter?

Calculus:  a;dljf;oqwie rlkjfnb alsier hiwehr gvajks cfaishjf vawhrelbiuayh eivlkrh,cjkzhslidh calkjiwegh rvailuwhe fjalvks hfdavlks hdfljvkasd; fvja;sld fv;alsjdf voiwe rkljas bdhlfa

Me:  I'm going to die.  That is all there is to it.

And that is why I hate high school.

**Note:  In the above conversation, the portrayal of my Mom is a bit of a dramatization.  She doesn't really act like that.  Normally.

The End is Nigh--A Doomsday Prophecy

Lo, the end is coming when all shall fall to the ground and quake in fear.

The end shall come upon you on a soft breeze, one that you may not even notice at first.  Some, however, will see the signs and begin to speak warnings, though they will go largely unheeded.

And then, lo!  Descending upon you from the sky like a storm shall come your doom!  It shall first be far away, and you, being a fool, will not prepare yourself.  Then, without warning, it will strike from the heavens, sending you crashing to the ground in fear and trembling.

There will be screams, and shouts of disbelief, and those who, even though they are in the midst of these things, will deny that darkness has come.

Lo, it will strike at your head while you cower in fear!  The beast shall rule your life, and you will not try to stop it, for out of fear you will be paralyzed, sayeth I.

Then, out of the shadows shall arise mighty warriors who will vanquish the darkness.  At first, their efforts will seem unfruitful, and many will not have faith in the heroes, but, lo, their time will come, and when it does, they will snatch the beast from the sky and destroy it with crude tools, for the beast is not unconquerable.

And then shall darkness be vanquished, and all who had cowered in fear return to the light and rejoice, for the terror shall be vanquished, and darkness rule no more.

So sayeth Fanny, on the subject of dragonflies in the library.  (That thing was darned scary.)

Realized:

Kanji, when in text form, looks a lot like Ouija, which may or may not explain why Kanji is so evil.

Fanny Potter and the Deathly Shallows

One particularly cold morning in early September, a young lady named Fanny woke up in her room.

"We're probably going to go to the beach today," she said.

"I don't want to go to the beach."

"Perhaps they will let me stay home."

She got dressed and went into the kitchen, where it immediately became apparent that she would have no such luck, for preparations for the beach trip were already underway.

"Drat," she thought.

Not too long after that, Fanny and her siblings were herded into the car and braced themselves for the very long journey that faced them.

They drove through towns, on side roads, on bridges, and on highways until, finally, they came to the beach.

It was very cold and windy at the beach, and the waves were much too high for swimming, but Fanny's day was not entirely ruined, for she had brought a book with her, so that she might read on the beach.

After about an hour or so of reading, it was time for dinner.  Fanny walked to the picnic table with the rest of her family.  All seemed perfectly calm.

Then, who should fly out of the clouds but the evil Lord Seagullmort!

They were all immediately plunged into terror, for the evil Lord Seagullmort would surely eat all of their chips and hot dog buns and would almost definitely make screechy noises at them.

They expected the worst from Lord Seagullmort.

But no one expected what happened next.

Fanny Potter was sitting innocently at the picnic table, eating her dinner when, from above, the evil Lord Seagullmort swooped down and pooped on her head.

Yes.  Pooped on her head.

No one had ever suspected such treachery from Lord Seagullmort.  They had always known him to be capable of great evil, but never expected that he would stoop that low.

However, Fanny Potter was not defeated.

No, she finished her dinner, and then went to put on her wizard's robes (*cough*redsnuggie*cough*).

Lord Seagullmort fled in terror, vowing that he would one day return to destroy her.

Fanny Potter, knowing full well that Lord Seagullmort would eventually make good on his promise, nonetheless continued with her day at the beach.

A day which would soon get even more dangerous, for Fanny Potter and her family were headed toward the pier, where massive waves crashed against the sides, their white fingers grasping at unsure feet, waiting to pull someone into the briny deep.

Fanny Potter was very nearly defeated that day, and would have been lost to the world forever had her powerful wizard's robes not saved her from going over.

By the time Fanny Potter had defeated the evil Lord Seagullmort and vanquished the carnivorous waves, the sun was setting on her beach day.

And so, it was with a heavy heart that she boarded the car to leave the beach and return home.  But she held on to a sliver of hope, for her adventures were surely not over yet.  No, there would surely be more heroic antics lying in wait for Fanny Potter, all she had to do was find them.

Hi, There. How Are You?

Because I'm unstable.

I seem to have been suffering from insomnia and/or some sort of hormonal imbalance for the past few days, and you know what I've discovered?  It turns me into someone I don't like.

Namely, a crazy person.

I've been losing my temper, I've been irrational, and I've been a host of other things that I can't remember because I'm tired but I can't sleep.

I feel crazy.  I'm pretty sure I might be crazy.  Why, not even ten minutes ago, I thought that I heard a serial killer in the basement not twenty feet from me, and, instead of freaking out, as I normally would, I looked at the glass mug on the desk in front of me and had a brief fantasy which I will now record for you in the third person because I'm tired and I can only really write fiction stories in the third person when I'm tired.

She stood, slowly, and faced the oncoming threat.  The ominous man in black said nothing, and moved not an inch as she grabbed the glass mug sitting on the desk beside her.  "You wanna tango?" she asked as, gripping the mug tightly, she smashed it against the wall.  Thousands of shards of glass danced in the moonlight as the fell to the floor around her.  Brandishing the jagged piece she held in her hand, her only weapon, she said "let's tango."

Oh, dear.  I do believe that that might be worse than the stuff that I normally write.  

Sleep.  I need sleep.

But I can't sleep.

Well, it's not that I can't sleep at all, it's that I can't stay asleep.  I fall asleep, and then I wake up a few hours later, then I fall asleep again, and  wake up again, and then fall asleep, then wake up in a never-ending cycle of doom and sadness.

I want to kill my brain.  It is being stupid.  I hate this game.

Bah.  I'm going to leave now, before you all catch my crazy.

I'd say something that I think is witty here, but I'm too tired (HA!  Like a bike.  I'm too tired!  Get it?  Too tired, two-tired?  Oh, that is just awful.)

I am Here to Plague You With Songs You Won't be Able to Get out of Your Head

This isn't really a post.  This is just a series of videos of songs that are bound to get stuck in your head at some point. 

This song has been stuck in my head since last night.  That doesn't sound like a long time, but when the only part of the song that you know is a 5-second snippet of the chorus, it gets a little annoying.  Nevertheless, I still kind of like this song just a little.

Come on, Eileen by Dexy's Midnight Runners

I don't really have much to say for this one, except that the only reason that it is now stuck in my head is because it showed in the recommended videos on YouTube for the last one.

99 Luftballons by Nena

And you're all going to hate me for this one.

Barbie Girl by Aqua

Holy flying frick, y'all.  It's in German.  Just kidding.  It's actually Dutch.

But that whole "Dutch" thing just reminded me of this video.

I'm not sure if it's German, or Dutch, or Belgian, or whatever.  All I know is that there is a freaking pig fartin' up a storm.

I Feel Your Pain, Quasimodo, I Feel Your Pain.

I was at band camp for most of this week.  There was much use of sunblock and bug spray, and much yelling of "winning" and "courage" and much singing of The Cha Cha Slide.  We also talked about doing the can-can, which led us to compose sentences like this one:  I can can can-can. (Do you want to delete the repeated word?  NO.)

There was also a whole lot of talk about cannibalism, naked people falling out of hot air balloons, and dead people in cabins, but that's beside the point.

Thursday was the last day of band camp (my last band camp ever, forever, which actually made me a little sad) and I wanted to do something with all of my friends as a way of celebrating, so we decided to go swimming.

Where did we go swimming, you ask?  Why, at Sassafras Jones's grandparents' pond, that's where.

Everything started out just fine.  Everyone got to the pond safely, and all looked to be going well, until it actually came time to get into the water.

You see, something you may or may not know about me is that I am extremely afraid of the water.  I used to cry at every swimming lesson that my mom made me go to, and I even threw up at one.  Eventually, I did learn to swim a little bit, but I haven't actually gone swimming in a couple of years, so I'm more than a little rusty.

Anyway, everyone, the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, Sassafras Jones, the Drummer Boy, and the Destroyer, a lovely red-headed girl who plays the trumpet and is actually extremely hilarious, was in the deep water over by the diving board and such.  I did not want to jump into the water, so I decided that I was just going to swim out to where everyone was and hope for the best.

Only, there was a problem.

That problem was called "fish."

Now, it has been noted on this blog that I am not overly-enthusiastic about wildlife being overly close to me, so the fact that I literally saw a fish in the shallows swimming away from me freaked me out quite a bit. 

At that point, I realized that I was going to have to jump in, or at least use the ladder by the diving board, which, according to the Destroyer, had a big ol' spider on it.  Neither of this options were particularly pleasing to me.

Eventually, my blue noodle and I made it into the water with everyone else.  Everything was going fine, the Destroyer even went out and got a boogie board thing, then ran around the pond toward where the diving board was, earning her the title of David Hasselhoff.  For that short period of time, everything was going swimmingly (horrible pun intended.)

However, it didn't take long for things to take a turn for the worse.

It soon became apparent that I was not the only one who was not bestest buddies with the water.  In fact, the Drummer Boy was the only one amongst us who could actually swim, though Sassafras Jones was entirely capable of holding her own in the water.  Basically, what I'm getting at is that there were a lot of near-death experiences that night.

The Destroyer/David Hasselhoff also shared my fear of the fishies.  The following is a direct quote from her, after she though that a fish touched her leg.

"My hands are out of the water, my toes are out of the water, and I'm gonna die in this God-forsaken lake."

At which point I very nearly peed myself and/or drowned. 

I ended up sharing my noodle with the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, who almost drowned, then he got his own noodle, then I had to give my noodle to the Destroyer/David Hasselhoff, who was totally not living up to her namesake by also almost drowning.  At that point, I was in deep water without a floatation device and very little swimming ability, how could I survive?  Who could have given me the tools necessary to stay afloat when years of swimming lessons had failed me?  Only one woman:  Tyra Banks.

You see, I used to watch a lot of America's Next Top Model, and, at one point, on of the photo shoots that they did had the models floating on the surface of the pool.  I remembered Tyra teaching the girls how to float by arching their backs, and so that was what I did, and, darn it, it worked.  The only drawback was that, if I had actually drowned, I would have been in much the same position as if I was just floating.

After informing my friends of the one drawback of my nearly flawless plan and asking that they check that I was still alive every so often, they went and got me another noodle, only this one was a wimpy pink noodle that did not live up to my floatation device standards.

And, to top all this off, there were horseflies, and they were attacking us.

At one point, horseflies dive-bombed my head, causing my to seek refuge underwater.  However, when I did this, there arose in my already taxed calves a mighty pain.  An effing leg cramp.  The pain was so bad it caused me to exclaim: "son of a b****, this hurts" in a very loud voice so that everyone, including Sassafras Jones's dad, who was sitting by the campfire, could hear.

But I had no time to worry about Sassy's dad's opinion of me, for I was going to die.  The wimpy noodle was not enough to keep me afloat now that I had pretty much lost all use of my legs.  I was able to keep my head above water long enough to demand that someone get me a decent noodle, which they did, at which point I was perfectly fine, except for the whole "searing pain" thing.

I was totally fine, but the Drummer Boy had decided that I was some sort of danger to myself and incapable of safely remaining in the water, so he towed me back to shore, at which point I discovered that I couldn't really put any sort of pressure on my left leg.  So I just kind of chilled out in the shallows, hoping that no fish would touch me and getting grossed out by seaweed until my leg regained enough strength to be able to manage a hobble-type movement that would allow me to make my way to the campfire, where there was a picnic table that I could sit on.

We ate hobo pies and hot dogs and things.  At one point, Sassafras Jones's dad asked if their were any hot dogs left, but did it in a roundabout way.

Sassy's Dad:  Are there any more processed cow parts left?
Me:  *Questioning look*
Sassy's Dad:  Hot dogs.  They're just cow lips and udders
The Drummer Boy: Mmm, udders
The Destroyer/David Hasselhoff: They're udderly delicious.

Anyway, after we had finished discussing processed cow parts and such, we started focusing more on the mosquitoes.  One of them landed on the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, and the Destroyer/David Hasselhoff had some advice for him.

The Destroyer/David Hasselhoff: Tense up your leg; it'll explode.
Me:  You know this from experience?
The Destroyer/David Hasselhoff: Yes.

Then we walked around Sassafras Jones's grandparents' property and house and things and play songs on their grand piano, after which we went back outside to put all of the pooly things away and I got bit on the eyelid by a mosquito.  THE EYELID.  I didn't even know mosquitoes did that kind of thing.  I mean, I guess I knew, somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, that they had the capability of biting people's eyelids, but I think I just assumed that they would have the decency not to do it.  Apparently, though, I was wrong, because my eyelid was swelling up nicely, which, coupled with the limp caused by my wonky leg, made me look like Quasimodo, or every evil henchmen in every old movie ever.  I proceeded to refer to myself as "Igor" for the rest of the night.

Then, we all went home, and I'm just now remembering that I may have left caramel syrup in the back of my car and that I should maybe go and look for that.

I'm Sure I Could Control the World if I Weren't so Darned...Tired. What Was I Saying?

Today was the first day of band camp.

I would tell you more, but I am about to dissolve into a large puddle of ick.  It was very hot, and I am very tired, seeing as how I have not had a decent night's sleep in over a week (remember the raccoons?  Yeah.  That's their fault.)

However, I will share with you all a video that I probably posted before, but I'm going to again, and then a little story.  Or the other way around.  Yes, the other way around.

Anyway, I got to drive an actual car today, which is really exciting, even though I've legally been able to drive by myself for over a year now (I don't have my own car, and my dad works a lot, so driving a real live automobile is a real treat, let me tell you.)  So, since I got to drive an actual car to band camp, that meant that I had a car that I could drive home from band camp.  This also meant that I could give Sassafras Jones a ride home, so I did. 

On the way there, I, being the picture of class and grace, was taking large swigs of water out of a glass bottle that I have always felt would be perfect for holding moonshine.  I finished all the water in that bottle, but I was still thirsty, so I tried to reach into the back seat where my other water bottle was.  Alas, it was too far away, prompting me to say "Damn.  It's too far away."  However, I don't remember saying this because my  brain has shut down all unnecessary functions.  Sassafras Jones did hear me say this, though, and proceeded to start reciting lines from this YouTube video.  Enjoy.

Oh boy.  It's naptime.

My Name is Buzz Killigan and I'm Not Particularly Fond of Camping

I just got back from a week-long family camping trip.  It wasn't so bad, considering that it was only my nuclear family, and my dad's a pretty good sport about letting me sit in the camper and read my books all the time.

Anyway, I thought that I'd treat you all to a brand-spanking-new post, but don't get used to it, because I'm going away to band camp next week, so I shall fall silent once more, but then I'll come back and probably have hilarious stories to tell you about marching incidents and canoe trips.

What was I saying?

Oh, right.  Camping.  Yeah, camping isn't exactly my thing, but do you know what is my thing?  Staying up late at night reading.  This did not work out so well for one reason, and one reason alone.  Do you want to know what that reason is?  Well, I'll tell you.

Raccoons.

I didn't think that it was possible for me to fear more things than I already fear, but, when confronted with the knowledge that a possibly rabid beast was foraging through my food fewer than ten feet away from my sleepy little head, I was forced to admit that raccoons are scary as frick.

Here are some things that I wrote down on those scary nights when I heard the raccoons.

There is a raccoon outside right freaking now, y'all.  Fo reals.

If raccoons get into the camper, I will be the first to die.  The door isn't latching properly.  I'm going to be attacked by a raccoon and die of rabies.

The raccoons are effing fighting each other, y'all.  This is starting to freak me out.

For the record, the sound of raccoons fighting each other is fricking scary and I wouldn't want anyone to have to live through that.

I spent most of that night wrapped up in a blanket, even though I wasn't cold, because I was convinced that raccoons would be too stupid to recognize me as a human if I was wrapped in fabric.

I fricking hate raccoons.

Oh.  I should probably explain some more things about my camping trip, or else you all might get a little confused about it.

The title of this post says that my name is Buzz Killigan, because it is, apparently.  You see, the whole week I was, I am told, being a "buzz kill."  However, I would like to point out that if educating the ignorant when they make an erroneous statement makes me a buzz kill, then I will gladly be called a buzz kill.

Another thing that went on during the week of camping was the excessive wandering of my mind.  I think it might have had something to do with the fact that I was staying up as late as I normally do, but waking up much earlier.  Anyway, here are some non-raccoon-related things I wrote down over the week:

"Ain't be havin' none of this"--no need to conjugate (look, ma! No conjugation!)

It's true.  I ain't be havin' none of this, you ain't be havin' none of this, he, she, we ain't be havin' none of this...

There are not nearly enough situation is life in which an impression of a T-Rex is called for.

This, tragically, is only too true.  I keep having to invent situations in which a T-Rex impersonation is appropriate.

Pet monkey stories=blogging gold.  Also, more effing raccoons.  They are surrounding this biz-nitch.  It is freaking me out.

Okay, first of all.  About the pet monkey:  My dad, when he was very little, for some reason or another, had a pet monkey.  I don't remember how he got it, and I don't really want to ask him right now, but maybe, someday, if I still like you all, I will tell you about my dad's pet monkey and some of its shenanigans.

Second of all, effing raccoons. I.  Hate.  Raccoons.  That is all.

I Want to Actually Post Things Today, But I'm too Busy Swooning

Josh freaking Groban, y'all.

Yeah.  If you don't swoon at the mere mention of his name, you aren't living.

Here, I'll help you.

(Just go ahead and skip to around 1:38 for the actual song.  Unless you want to listen to Celine Dion talk for a minute and a half, and if you do, hey, more power to you.)

And that was live people.  No auto-tune.  Yeah.

I just...I can't even say anything right now.  Oh, my poor little heart.

I am the Greatest Hypochondriac Who Has Ever Thought She Was Dying

It might be true.

As many people who have read this blog before will know, I can be a bit dramatic when it comes to everyday ailments, as is demonstrated by the end of this post, as well as this post, and just a wee bit in this post.

Anyway.

We all know that I'm kind of a hypochondriac, and also sort of a germ freak (maybe you didn't know that before, but you know it now.)  But, you do not know just how long I have been this way.  To tell you that, we must go far back, to the days of old, when stuffed animals were my friends, and the sandbox was my kingdom.

We must go back to kindergarten.

This is the story of the first, and last, time I ever faked sick to get out of going to school.

I'm pretty sure that I just didn't feel like getting up that morning.  I wanted to sleep, and the TV had told me, many times, of children faking illnesses to avoid being sent to the dreaded school.  So that's what I did.  I told my mom that I had a stomach ache, and she let me stay home from school.

My sick day started out simply enough.  I slept and watched TV, then slept some more.  My mom was a stay-at-home mom at the time, so I didn't throw any wild kindergarten parties, I was just kind of chilling out at my house, without a care in the world.

But I was determined not to be caught in my lie.

I did such a good job at trying to convince my mom that I was sick, that I managed to convince myself of it.  Soon, I actually became sick, with an actual stomach ache, and possibly also a fever.  But that is not the worst of it.

The worst part was the hallucinations.

To this day, I'm not entirely sure if all of this happened, but I have a distinct memory of looking out of one of the windows in my house and seeing the neighbor kids walking home from the bus stop, dressed up as milk cartons.

Milk cartons.

For real.

They were very convincing milk cartons, too.  All I remember thinking about this was that "Aw, I picked the wrong day to be sick.  Everybody got to dress up as milk cartons and I had to stay home."

And so, from that day forth, I never again faked sick, for fear of missing out on another "Dress Up Like a Milk Carton" day.

So yeah, tiny me had some mad mental skills.  Or mad mental issues.  You decide.

I Hate This Week

I really do.

First of all, a bunch of my friends are gone on vacations and whatnot, including Sassafras Jones who's out gallivanting around California.  What a poop.

Yes, I did just call my friend a poop.

Anyway.  Aside from having only the King/Archbishop of Marching Band and the Stellar Miss Moon to keep me from slowly going insane, I've had to schedule college visits.

Yes, college visits.

I should have done this last week, when I actually had time to, and when there would have been ample time for the people to process my application thing and get back to me, but NO.  I forgot about the internet, and I was under the impression that I had to actually call these people on the telephone and ask for a visit.  The prospect of using a telephone scared me so much that I put of the whole thing for a whole week, until last night, when I realized, hey, there's probably a way to register for these kinds of things online, so I went to the websites and, lo and behold, there it was!  Online visit applications!  The only problem is, I want to visit these colleges next week, and they're all saying that visits scheduled within two weeks are not guaranteed, which is making me anxious, and I don't like being anxious.

BAH.  I hate college already, and I haven't even graduated from high school yet.

Speaking of high school, I registered for my online French class last week (actually, speaking of French class reminded me of something else.  On all the applications, they asked what some of my interests are for majors and stuff, and I told all of them that Spanish was my secondary interest for a major, except that's not even really true because I kind of hate Spanish, but it would be in my best interests to learn Spanish, so really, I'm just whoring out my academic interests in order to be one step ahead on the job market.  This is also making me anxious.  Back to my French class.)  I'm pretty excited about it, since it should be pretty easy because I already know some French.  Also, my professor is supposedly hot, according to ratemyprofessor.com, only I don't know how that's supposed to be beneficial to my online learning experience.  It's always good to know, I guess.

What else do I hate about this week?  Hmm, I'm sure that there were more things.  Well, there was that fireworks display that I went to see with the Stellar Miss Moon and the King/Archbishop of Marching Band last night. They were pretty sub-par.  It made me sad.  The best part of the whole night was when, after the very first few fireworks went off, there was a pause, and then the King/Archbishop of Marching Band stood up, clapped, and yelled "Woo!  Let's do this again next year!"

So, yeah.  That was my week.  And it's only Tuesday.  Sassafras Jones isn't coming back home until Sunday, I don't know when the Drummer Boy (who is also on vacation) is coming home, and I want some chocolate cake, only I don't have any, and that's just making me angry.

I Have a Blogging Button on my Web Browser‬‏

It's not the greatest thing. APPARENTLY, I can't blog actual videos, but it does let me blog links, but I hate links, so this is making me a little angry.

Anyway, here is a video that I am blogging because I have a blogging button on my web browser and it was convenient.

YouTube - ‪Kitty is a very BAD Mystic

I'm sorry if I have disappointed you.‬‏

I'm Home

Howdy, y'all.

I'm home from a long week of doing stuff.

I'm really tired.

Give me a few days to recuperate and get back up to the level of mediocre half-jokes that you've all come to expect from me.

Is that okay?  Of course it is.  I knew you would understand.

Yo, Peeps

I am out of town this week.  I am going on a trip.  I will not be back for an entire week.  I know that you probably don't care, and you probably wouldn't have noticed anyway, since my posting average has been somewhat less than ideal as of late, but I thought that I would let you know anyway.  Feel free to roam about the blog, clicking at whim.

I'll see you all in a week!

In Which the King/Archbishop of Marching Band and I Freak Out Over Every Concievable Thing

I almost died tonight.

Seriously.  I did.

Okay, I didn't, but I could have.

Maybe.

Okay, so I was at the Drummer Boy's house with the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, and we had all been talking and having a jolly good time talking about farts and pooping and dead people and naked people and old people and shins and weird toenails and such, and we had been talking for a very long time.  WELL, when you've been talking to someone on his porch for quite some time, you don't really notice that the sun has been sinking down in the sky, like he knows somethings about to go down, and that darkness has fallen.  However, when you do notice that darkness has fallen, and you're a kid from town sitting on the porch in the country in the dead of night with freaky wind chimes that would provide a lovely soundtrack to any horror film, your imagination tends to get the better of you.

All of a sudden, the wind is an alien spaceship landing in the back yard, come to take you away for testing and probing and things (the Drummer Boy asked why it was in the back yard.  It was in the back yard because we were looking at the front yard, and it sure as frick wasn't there, so it had to be in the back yard.  Plus, aliens aren't going to just announce their arrival.  They're rude like that.)  Also, cats become poltergeists, and moths, which were pretty effing scary to start with, turn into scary discussions of giant moths, which causes me to threaten to put camel spiders in people's beds to shut them up.

I was fairly certain that there was a chupacabra in a big tree in the front yard, and maybe one outside my bedroom window at home.  There was also, possibly, a big foot in the field across the road, in addition to the aliens in the back yard and the scary effing wind chimes (also, there was a motion light, which provided our only light on the porch, and it kept going off at random times, causing the King/Archbishop of Marching Band and me to freak out.)

I was poised to attack at any sign of danger.

Me:  What was that?
The Drummer Boy:  That was a cricket or some other bug.  They make those noises when it's nighttime.
Me:  I know what crickets sound like.  Crickets make chirp chirp chirp noises.  This was definitely a thunk
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  I'm scared.
The Drummer Boy:  There are people in the house.  They make thunking noises when they move.
Me:  No. 

Also, the wind chimes would not shut up.  Seriously, it was like they wanted me to die.

Wind Chimes:  *OMINOUS CHIME SOUND*
Me:  *Points*  Shut up.  Shut the frick up.  You shut up right now.  DON'T POKE THE BEAR.

You probably don't find any of this entertaining, but I'm going to tell you about it anyway.  Why?  Because it's my blog AND I CAN.

Anyway, eventually it came time for the King/Archbishop of Marching Band and I to leave, but, at that point, we were so thoroughly freaked out that we couldn't even walk back to his van alone, so the Drummer Boy had to walk with us to put the lawn chairs that he and the King/Archbishop of Marching Band had been sitting on away, and then he just left us to walk the 20-some feet to the van.  Alone.  IN THE DARK. (Okay, it wasn't really the dark because there was a giant light on, but there were ominous shadows beneath the trees, so, yeah, IN THE DARK.)

And so the King/Archbishop of Marching Band and I began the perilous journey back to the van.  I was pretty much hanging on his right arm because THAT'S HOW FREAKED OUT I WAS.  He had his keys in his hand to serve as some sort of weapon.  I had a cell phone. I don't know what it would have done, but it seemed like a better weapon than the chapstick or the rosary that I had in my pocket (unless we had been fighting demons.  Then the rosary would be a better weapon.  However, we were not fighting demons, we were fighting murderers, bigfoots, and chupacabras.  Anyway, back to the story.)

We pretty much sprinted the last ten feet to the van.  The King/Archbishop of Marching Band had a clean shot to the driver's seat, but I had to go all the way around the van IN THE SHADOWS to get to the passenger door.

It was way scary.

Anyway, we get into the van, and, for a second, we think we're safe.

Then it occurs to me.

We didn't check the van for serial killers before we got it.

I voiced this thought, then immediately regretted it.

"[curse word]" I said, " now they know we're here"

However, the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, being the boss that he is, risked his life to go check for serial killers.

I told him to make sure he checked the trunk.

Once we had determined that there were, in fact, no serial killers in the van.  We proceeded to lock all of the doors.

"We have to make sure no one can get in," the King/Archbishop of Marching Band said.
"Let's just get out of here before something slams its body up against my door," I replied.

And so, we began our leaving of the house.

That's when s*** started gettin' real.

We made our way past the spooky empty tire swing, and then proceeded to spin out of the driveway.

We were driving really fast and swerving on a dirt road, which can't be safe, but we were being chased by CHUPACABRAS AND BIGFOOTS.  Safe is relative.

We hit some chatter bumps and they made rumbly noises, which startled the King/Archbishop of Marching Band, causing him to swerve some more.  I didn't care.  I just wanted to get the heck out of Dodge, as I had screamed as soon as we had left the Drummer Boy's driveway.

There was a stop sign at the end of the road, but there was no one coming, and no cops around, so we may have not stopped completely but, hello again, chupacabras and bigfoots.  We had more important things to worry about than pesky traffic laws.

When we got out onto the paved road, this conversation took place:

The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  I would just floor it, but there might be deer.
Me:  Yeah, that wouldn't be good.
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  Yeah, if a deer jumped out in front of us right now, I would probably scream and swerve some more.
Me:  *Pause* Are there airbags on this side?
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: I don't know.
Me:  *Pause again*  Are their airbags on your side?
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: No.
Me:  Oh.  Well, then there probably aren't any airbags on this side.
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  Yeah, probably not.
Me:  We're going to die.

And then he drove down the middle of the road because it was late at night and no one was there anyway and he had always wanted to drive down the middle of the road, so he did.

Then he spotted an orb in the sky.

The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: Oh my gosh.  There is an orange orb floating in the sky.
Me:  That's a star.
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: Oh yeah.  *Pause* Did I ever tell you about that orange orb I saw in the sky that one time?
Me:  Yeah, and You thought that it was a UFO?  I remember that.
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  Yeah.
*Lapse in conversation lasting roughly ten seconds*
Me:  Did that orb just blink?
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  Oh my gosh, it just blinked.
Me:  It's still blinking!
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  AHHHHHHHHHH! *swerves some more*
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  *Stares intently at road*
Orb/"star":  *disappears*
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  OH MY GOSH, IT JUST WENT OUT!
Me:  It went behind a tree...
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: Oh.

And then the van started to smell like bacon, but I was pretty sure that the bacon smell was coming from the orb, which was actually an alien spaceship, and the aliens were just using the scent of tasty bacon to lure us into their spaceship for testing and other horrible things.

Then we got to the end of that road, and then we turned a corner onto the road that goes into town, and we kind of floored it.

Me:  You're going 70!
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band: *Makes startled noise, swerves some more while slowing down* I didn't even notice!

Then we were in town, but there was a strange vehicle facing the wrong direction in our lane.

The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  Why is that person in my lane?
Me:  I don't know...INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS!
The King/Archbishop of Marching Band:  *Turns onto side street to avoid alien body snatchers*

However, as soon as we turned to avoid one obstacle, another was in our path, for, behold, a terrifying beast of a vehicle was barreling down upon us!

Seriously, that thing came was coming at us, like, FO REALS.  And it came out of NOWHERE.

The King/Archbishop of Marching Band and I:  *Extremely loud, high-pitched screaming, accompanied by more swerving*

Then we finally managed to make it to my house without dying, but I had to get my stuff out of the back seat of his van, only the door was locked, so I couldn't get at it, and he couldn't unlock it from the inside, so he got out of the car to unlock it with his keys, only he had left his keys in the ignition, so he had to go back for them.  I was slightly more comfortable being out in the open in town because we were in town and not the scary effing country, but I was still convinced that a serial killer had somehow managed to conceal himself in the Japanese Maple tree that is in our front yard, so I wanted to get my stuff and get out as fast as possible. 

Finally, I got all my stuff, and the King/Archbishop of Marching Band left to go to his house, and I locked my front door and started blogging, and then Sister A knocked on the front door because she had been at a friend's house for a bonfire and she SCARED THE FRICK OUT OF ME, and I almost had a heart attack. 

Except now it's still nighttime, and I don't really know for sure if the King/Archbishop of Marching Band made it home safely, or if he was attacked and killed by bigfoots/zombies/chupacabras/deer/hazardous drivers or anything and I'm a little worried about him.  I'm not sure how well I'm going to sleep tonight.  Bother.

Just Leave the Man His Name, Already. Jeez.

I did a whole bunch of things last night.  One of which was to go to Sassafras Jones's house to watch the Phantom of the Opera.

After I got home from watching the Phantom and eating a very large portion of an even larger 1 lb. Sugar Daddy, I decided to see if Criminal Minds was on, so that I could see two of my fictional crushes in one night.

However, when I searched for my beloved Dr. Spencer Reid on the telly, I was sadly disappointed.  There were no episodes of Criminal Minds on.  However, something else was on.  Something that might even be better.

The Crucible.

It had started a lot earlier, so I had missed one of my favorite literary characters, Tituba, and her one awesome line.

Well, fudge.  I was trying to find a video clip of it, but I can't find one anywhere on YouTube, and we all know that if YouTube doesn't have it, then I'm not going to find it because I'm not going to look any farther because that would require work, and work is just not something that I am prone to do out of the blue.

Anyway, if you've seen the Crucible, you will know what I'm talking about when I say "No, Abby, dat be a bad ting!"

And if thou knowest not of what I speak, then I sayest of the "Shun!  May you nevermore darken my...blogway?  I don't know.  It's hard to sound like you're from colonial times when you're on the internet."

I apologize for that last paragraph.  I don't know what came over me.

Anyway, here's Tituba:

I love Tituba.

But, anyway, that's not even the best part.  While Tituba is indeed one of the main reasons that I would ever watch this movie outside of an English class, the other reason is John Proctor's confession scene.

You can just go ahead and skip to around 5:30.  That's where it starts to get good.
(I had a link here, but then I removed it because I just went and made my own dang video.  I hate the internet.)

You have no idea how angry I am that I can't embed that video in here because I can't find it on the insert video thing with the thing on the blog edit-y place.  Bah.

Here's a smaller clip that doesn't really do ol' John Proctor justice, but it will have to suffice:

You know what?  No.  That video that I was going to put there was awful and it definitely did John Proctor less justice than I thought it did.  Hold on for just a minute.  I'm going to make my own dang video.  Granted, it won't have the actual video, but it will have the actual audio, and really, that's all that we want right  now.

Oh, never mind!  I got the video!  I had to use my camera and record it off of YouTube.

It's kind of poor sound quality, but, hey, what are you going to do?

Oh, John Proctor, you need to take a chill pill.

It's JUNE!

And you know what that means!

Yes, yes, of course June brings with it summer vacation and sunshine and the end of the school year and *shudder*  exams.

But that is what I'm talking about.

No, what I'm talking about is the ability to sing this song from Carousel whenever I want without it seeming out of place.

June is busting out all over!  YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

That's really all I have for today.  I might post some more things this week, but I have no guarantees because I've actually been doing real-people  work in my online class lately because I have so many projects to do for final exams.

However, whenever I'm trying to stall, I shall be here.  Or on facebook.  Either way, I'll probably find something worth wasting your time over.

That last paragraph made little to no sense, and I apologize.

You Can Call Me Madame Fanny, Fortuneteller Extraordinaire

So, apparently, I was misinformed and the rapture was not rescheduled for yesterday, it was rescheduled for October 21st.

Do you know what day October 21st is?

Don't bother looking it up; I'll save you the trouble.

It's FRIDAY, FRIDAY GOTTA END THE WORLD ON FRIDAY!!!!

So, as you can see, I correctly predicted the end of the world in my last post.

So, yeah.  I'm kind of a big deal now.

You know what else I'm predicting?  Come closer, young one, and I will reveal the secrets of your future.  Give me your palm.  Oh, I see many things in store for you, including-oh, what's this?  Your Internet line is telling me that there will be a new post in your future!  How extraordinary!

If at First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again

THE APOCALYPSE HAS BEEN RESCHEDULED!

It's on Wednesday now.

Seriously, Wednesday?  Not only is it a pain to write, but it's in the middle of the freaking week.  PLUS, I have a chemistry test on that day that I would probably still have to take.

The rapture is seriously inconvenient.

However, if the rapture doesn't come on Wednesday, I'm predicting that it's going to end on Friday.  It makes sense, doesn't it?  End of the week...Rebecca Black...

Look!  It even fits:

It's Friday, Friday, gotta end the world on Friday
Everybody's looking forward to the rapture, rapture
Friday, Friday, burn in Hell on Friday
Everybody's looking forward to the rapture

Fire and brimstone, yeah!
Fire and brimstone, yeah!
Burn, burn, burn, burn
Looking forward to the rapture

Yesterday was Thursday
Today it is friday
Re-repent you evil sinners
You evil sinners
Or burn in Hell for all eternity

Tomorrow won't be Saturday
Sunday won't come afterwards
'Cause this world is gonna end!

Okay, I got kind of lazy toward the end there, but that's because I'm tired and I didn't want to completely lose my grip on sanity.  Also I did not do the whole song because I am feeling lazy and tired and I don't want to completely lose my grip on sanity. 

Hooray!

Well, Would You Look at That

No rapture!  Who'da thunk?

Well, anyway, 'night, all.

Hide Yo' Kids, Hide Yo' Wives AND Hide Yo' Husbands, 'Cause They Rapturin' Errbody out Here

It's the end of the world today.

Or, at least, that's what the billboard told me.

It's all just a matter of time now.  As I prepare for the last 30 minutes of my life on Earth, I am tempted to wax nostalgic about my past, and to mourn for the things that will never be.

Let's get started!

Things I've Never Done:


1.  Gone to Europe
2.  Had a sword fight in the morning mist of a bamboo forest
3.  Eaten dragonfruit
4.  Rode a polar bear across the Serengeti
5.  Gone skydiving
6.  Told my cat that I love it
7.  Gone on The Price is Right
8.  Gotten married
9.  Come to think of it, I've never been on a date.
10.  Shoot.
11.  Held a lion
12.  Danced the tango
13.  Danced the tango with a tiger
14.  Spent copious amounts of money on a shopping spree.
15.  Rode a pony into space
16.  Hiked along a mountain chain
17.  Climbed Mount Everest
18.  Eaten sushi
19.  Learned 5 languages
20.  Killed a wild boar with my bear hands
21.  Killed a bear to get his hands
22.  Slapped someone in the face
23.  Gone to Candy Mountain

Okay, none of those are really big deals, except for maybe #20-22.  I can live without having done those things.

And now...

Things I Have Done:


1.  Memorized a ridiculous amount of song lyrics
2.  Took Japanese because I could
3.  Tried to turn my German Shepard into a sled dog
4.  Shoved beads up my nose
5.  Read Winnie the Pooh
6.  Read Harry Potter numerous times
7.  Watched and read The Princess Bride
8.  Rode a horse until my legs hurt
9.  Learned guitar
10.  Sang in front of a couple thousand people
11.  Tried to dance an Irish jig
12.  Learned to play the trombone
13.  Told my dog that I love him
14.  Read over 200 books
15.  Watched the Phantom of the Opera
16.  Started a blog
17.  Faked sick
18.  Learned French
19.  Got a new cell phone
20.  Got a Facebook
21.  Went to Washington D.C.
22.  Smuggled a Swiss Army Knife into the Smithsonian
23.  Danced like a crazy person in public.

I can live with that.

Plus I took a shower AND shaved my legs, so when Satan himself shows up at my door at 6:00 sharp to drag me to Hell for not believing the Lord's prophet, That Dude Who Predicted That The World Would End On May 21st, at least I'll look good.

FBC Part III-Movies!

From the Phantom of the Opera:  Raoul *swoon*

GAH!  He loves her so much and she's just like "ooh, I'm gonna go hang out with Phantom now, Raoul   See you later, even though he's a horrible murderer and you are a totally hot upstanding citizen who doesn't have a replica statue of me wearing a wedding dress by your bedroom.  Yeah, you're totally a catch, but I'm gonna go hang with the homicidal creep."
This is why Raoul deserves way better than Christine.  Raoul, I would be happy to take Christine's place.  She is a total b**** and you deserve better.

From Tangled:  Eugene

Disney is the source of many a fictional boy crush for me.  



From the Lion King 2:  Kovu

He's broken, but I can fix him!
Also, it's totally normal that I have a crush on Kovu.  Really, I just have a crush on his personality and not on the fact that he is a lion.  Most of the girls who have seen this movie will understand what I'm talking about.

From Harry Potter:  Oliver Wood

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking "but, Fanny, you said that you wouldn't include characters from books in the movie section if they had a movie adaptation."  Well, you're right, but this is a different situation.  I don't really have a crush on Oliver Wood in the books, but in the movies... *swoon*

Nobody wears a turtleneck like Oliver Wood.

From the Lord of the Rings:  Sam

Okay now we're back to the thing about book characters not being in the movie section, but I can explain.  You see, much to my shame, I have not yet read the Lord of the Rings.  I have seen all of the movies, but I have not read the books.  I know, I know, my conduct is appalling.  However, I do intend to read the books as soon as possible.  I just really love Sam because Frodo's constantly being a giant wuss and Sam is just a boss all the time.

From Tarzan:  Tarzan

Yeah, there are more Disney Crushes coming.  Also this crush has little to nothing to do with the fact that Tarzan is freaking ripped and wears very little clothing.  Most likely.  Probably.  Maybe.
Oh, dear.



From Beauty and the Beast:  The Beast

Disney again.  I probably have more Disney crushes, but I can't remember them all, so all just stick with the ones that I've already listed.



From The Chronicles of Narnia: Caspian

Sister A thinks that Caspian is hers, but she is sadly mistaken.  I called dibs at least two months ago.

From the Nightmare Before Christmas:  Jack Skellington

I love his enthusiasm.  Jack Skellington is a wonderful character.



From Indiana Jones:  Indiana Jones

The look on his face just screams "b****, please."  There I go, censoring my own blog again.  Oh well.



Okay, really, I think that's about enough.  You get the picture, don't you.  If not, here's a summary:  I have issues.  I should probably be institutionalized.  However, in order for me to be institutionalized, they would have to catch me first.

"Fictional-Boy Crush-itis" Part II-TV Shows!

Okay, can you all do me a favor?  Before you continue to read this little series that I have going on, could you all just suspend reality for a little bit and pretend that it's totally normal to have imaginary relationships with fictional characters?  Thanks, I knew you would all understand.

Now, to the TV shows!

I had this whole post all worked out and finished before, but then I changed something, and then I didn't like the change, so I hit the "undo" button, but then I hit it too many times and then it deleted the whole thing and then I died a little inside.

Anyway, to the TV shows.

First up, from Avatar: The Last Airbender: Zuko. (What was that?  Did someone say something about an alleged movie adaptation of this awesome show?  I don't recall there ever being such a movie, but if you bring it up again, I will have to hit you and then yell at you, telling you exactly why that movie has nothing to do with this show and its awesomeness.)

Curse you, Blogger.  It took me forever to find this picture again.  He just looks so darned cute in it.    Here's what I originally had written as a caption on this picture before Blogger destroyed my hopes and dreams:
What a cutie.  My fictional relationship with Zuko is a unique one because, in it, I break one of my rules.  You see, Zuko is my husband, but he already has a girlfriend on the show.  However, I justify this by saying that Zuko and Mai make a stupid couple and that Zuko should be with me.  Mai can come after me if she wants, I really don't care.

Next, from Criminal Minds: Reid.

Gasp! The nerdy girl watches crime dramas?  AND she crushes on the hot nerds in said crime dramas?  Yes, yes she does.

From Bones:  Sweets.

What's this?  Another crime drama with another cute nerd?  I'm noticing a pattern here...

From Doctor Who:  the Doctor.

Confession #1:  I haven't been watching Doctor Who for very long, but I do have a decently-sized obsession with it.  Confession #2:  I really only have a crush on David Tennant as the Doctor.  Does that make me fickle?  I don't really care.

Also, David Tennant is the reason I can't take movie version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire seriously.

All right.  I'll believe that they can cast magic spells and fly on broomsticks, but David Tennant as a bad guy?  That is where you lose me.

Okay, I lied.  I just love the Doctor in general, regardless of whether or not he is played by David Tennant.

Okay, I probably wouldn't date all of them, but I would definitely hang out with all of them, because the Doctor rocks.



Well, bother.  Now I can't remember all of the people who were on this post.  Blogger, why do you have to sabotage me?  What did I ever do to you?

Well, since I can't think of anyone else right now, from Phineas and Ferb:  Ferb.

I was going to cut Phineas out of this picture, but then I got too lazy because Blogger has already made me do this post twice and I'm sick of working.

Also, for the record, I am not some sort of pedophile.  I would only date Ferb if he was older than me, otherwise, I would just hang out with him because he is a boss.

Well, since I've included pretty much all of the people I can remember, I suppose that's it for this post.  The last installment in this series is coming soon, don't worry.


P.S.--I remembered another one.


From Merlin:  Merlin

I don't really know how I feel about Merlin.  On the one hand, he has a nice accent, a cute smile, a good sense of humor, and gorgeous eyes.  On the other hand, he sort of reminds me of one of my friends, which is just making this whole thing awkward.

HOLY CRAP, Y'All.

You know that lovely young man who plays Merlin?  There's a picture of him right up there.  You see him?  His name is Colin Morgan.  Well, I was just watching Doctor Who, when who do I see?  Why, none other than Colin Morgan himself.

I almost died.

Seriously, Merlin and the Doctor?  In one place?  It was almost too much for my little heart to handle.

I Have a Disease. It's Called "Fictional-Boy Crush-itis." (Part I-Books!)

It's fatal...but only to my social life.

It's just that, whenever I read a book, watch a movie, or watch a new TV show, I manage to land myself yet another crush on yet another fictional boy.  At this point, I have amassed so many fictional boyfriends, crushes, and husbands that I'm having trouble keeping track of them all.

So I think I'll just put them all down right here, so I don't forget.

Let's start with book characters.  (Some of these books have film adaptations, but books are better than movies, so those characters will be listed here and not in the "movies" category.)

First up, my crush from Harry Potter:  Neville Longbottom.



If you've read all of the books, you understand my crushing on Neville.  Neville is one of my fictional husbands.  He is mine, so the rest of y'all can just back OFF.





 From Maximum Ride:  Iggy.



Iggy is also my husband, so, again, y'all can just calm yourselves down and step off.  There's a girl in the band who thinks that Iggy is hers, but she is sadly mistaken. 



Does the fact that I have multiple fictional husbands make me a fictional polygamist?

I think not.

Onward!

From The Hunger Games:  Peeta.



Peeta's the one in the middle.  Yeah, that's right.  I'm team Peeta.  Deal with it. 
Peeta is only a fictional crush of mine, because he belongs to another woman, and you just do not mess with another woman's man.  You just don't.





Okay, this is getting bad.  I can't remember all of the crushes I've had on characters in books that I've read.

Also from Harry Potter:  Fred Weasley!



Okay, I know that this is a picture of Fred and George, but that's okay because I also have a slightly smaller crush on George.  I would marry either of them.  However, the Weasley twins can be only my fictional crushes because, in the Harry Potter world, I am betrothed to Neville.  These rules all make sense in my head.



From The Princess Bride:  Inigo Montoya.  And Westley.  It's a little complicated up in this book.




Sword fighting.  Rawr.

 

I also have a small crush on Sherlock Holmes.



Is it weird that I have a crush on Sherlock Holmes?  I don't think so.  (Also, mad props to the lovely lady who drew this.  I don't know her personally; I just stole this off of DeviantArt.  Her username is vidaloca185, if anyone wants to creep on her awesomeness.



I swear that I've read more books than this.  I just can't remember all of my fictional boyfriends/husbands/crushes.  This is a real predicament.

Okay, I think that that's enough for books.

Jeepers, this is really long.  I'm going to have to split this up into multiple posts.

My first series!  Oh, joy!