| (no subject) |
[Sep. 30th, 2006|03:25 pm] |
wtf i still have a livejournal?????
dave smells
brittany probably read this before i even posted it cause shes crazy like that |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 23rd, 2005|05:40 pm] |
ridea3z: who says K?
ridea3z: come on meow
neversellingoutt: k
neversellingoutt: buh bye xoxo
neversellingoutt: :-*
ridea3z: dude
ridea3z: stop it right now
ridea3z: your making me all hot |
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| just think about it for a little |
[Dec. 10th, 2005|08:48 pm] |
1) New York City has 11 letters
2) Afghanistan has 11 letters.
3) Ramsin Yuseb (The terrorist who threatened to destroy the Twin
Towers in 1993) has 11 letters.
4) George W Bush has 11 letters.
This could be a mere coincidence, but this gets more interesting:
1) New York is the 11th state.
2) The first plane crashing against the Twin Towers was flight number
11.
3) Flight 11 was carrying 92 passengers. 9 + 2 = 11
4) Flight 77 which also hit Twin Towers, was carrying 65 passengers.
6+5 = 11
5) The tragedy was on September 11, or 9/11 as it is now known. 9 + 1+ 1 = 11
6) The date is equal to the US emergency services telephone number
911. 9 + 1 + 1 = 11.
Sheer coincidence..?! Read on and make up your own mind:
1) The total number of victims inside all the hi-jacked planes was
254. 2 + 5 + 4 = 11.
2) September 11 is day number 254 of the calendar year. Again 2 + 5 + 4
= 11.
3) The Madrid bombing took place on 3/11/2004. 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 4 = 11.
4) The tragedy of Madrid happened 911 days after the Twin Towers
incident.
Now this is where things get totally eerie:
The most recognised symbol for the US, after the Stars & Stripes, is
the Eagle. The following verse is taken from the Quran, the Islamic
holy book:
"For it is written that a son of Arabia would awaken a fearsome Eagle.
The wrath of the Eagle would be felt throughout the lands of Allah and lo,
while some of the people trembled in despair still more rejoiced: for
the wrath of the Eagle cleansed the lands of Allah and there was
peace."
That verse is number 9.11 of the Quran.
Still uncovinced about all of this..?! Try this and see how you feel
afterwards, it made my hair stand on end:
Open Microsoft Word and do the following:
1. Type in capitals Q33 NY. This is the flight number of the first
plane to hit one of the Twin Towers.
2. Highlight the Q33 NY.
3. Change the font size to 48.
4. Change the actual font to the WINGDINGS
What do you think now?!! |
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| ode to college alcoholism |
[Sep. 12th, 2005|07:45 pm] |
College students are truely a rare breed. Week after week we put ourselves through the gauntlet of flippy-cup tournaments, keg stands, ice luges, and power hours only to pass out briefly and wake up at obscene hours of the morning to re-fuel our still intoxicated bodies with a few more beers all in the name of tailgate. We also lack any legitimate sense of time. We "pre-drink" until eleven. 12:40 classes are "early." We know 2:00 a.m. as "last call" because we have been going to the bars since we were 18 with fake I.D.s. There is a day of the week referred to as "Boozeday."
We college kids undoubtedly have a subculture unto ourselves. Some people play basketball, we play beer pong. Some people wait all year for Christmas or Thanksgiving, we wait all year for St. Patty's Day, New Years Eve, and Superbowl Sunday. Some drink orange juice for breakfest, we throw back a Busch Light because we hear its a good curefor a hangover. We can turn anything into a drinking game.
We live in our own world, a world where jungle juice seems like a good idea, being awake at 4 a.m. is normal, "wanna do a body shot" is a sufficient pick-up line, and 21st birthdays are an entity unto themselves. We have become aware that alcohol makes us say, do, and wear things that would, in a sober state, be out of the question. Watching our friends make out with a stranger in front of cheering spectators is raw comedy, kegerators become the greatest invention the world has ever seen, and we "discover" things that seem utterly amazing like malt liquor...and Beerios...
We nickname beers. If we're at the bar and we ask for a "Beast" or a "Natty," the bartender knows what we're talking about because he's probley in college too. We have drunken alter-egos and we name them. A fewshots down the hatch and we suddenly turn into "Rico Suave" the Tequila-chugging wonder... We are experts at Asshole, never running out of tricky and clever rules. We draw on the faces of passed out friends, we know empty fifth bottles make great decorations in our apartments (also note: empty kegs can be sweet coffee tables), and we have done a "shotski."
We make friends while we are drunk and we assign them an adjective that will forever precede their name in order to distinguish them from the rest of the "friends" we make while drunk (also because we don't know their last names.) "Sloppy Tom", "Chicago Sarah," and "Creepy Steve" will always be near and dear to our hearts.
We have no money because what little money we have, we spend on beer. This, unfortunately, is also why we drink SKOL and Crazy Horse, and trust us, that takes heart. It grows on us after awhile... or after we've taken too many shot to remember that what we're drinking tastes like gasoline. The lack of money situation is also why if we see someone sipping a Corona or Blue Moon, they are a baller, and we will make friends with them.
After a long night of bonging beers at a house party, bravely resisting the urge to drunk dial (and/or drunk Text) all of our ex-girlfriends, then going shot-for-shot with a hotty at the bar, we wake up hugging an empty box of Bud Light in our underwear on our best friend's kitchen floor with a million questions running through our pounding heads. We wake up with random incoherent numbers in our cell phones ("Who the hell is 'grEenshirtg3irl'?"), random pictures on our cameras ("Look, here's one of so-and-so humping that Corona guy on the dance floor...") a mere 73 cents left in our wallets ("I didn't know Hold 'em was a drinking game?"), and a desperate desire to lay in bed for the rest of our lives...it is then that we swear off drinking forever...for real...we really mean it this time...
Yet, after shotgunning a "Fever Dog" or two and kickin' back with a 40, we head to the shower, beer in hand, and get ready to begin our evening once again. It takes balls, simply put. We know how to party. We have honed and perfected our art. We are lushes, bar stars, and boozehounds.
Why do we act this way you ask? Because we can. Because in 4 short, blurry years we will have to enter the "Real World." So for the time being we will live it up as long as there are beers to be drank and shots to be taken, we will be there...as loing as there are case races to be won and frat houses to pass out in, we will be there...as long as there are tables to be danced on and annoting eighties songs to sing loudly along to....WE WILL BE THERE!...but we're not going to lie.........we probley won't remember it |
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