As mentioned previously by yours truly, the Freaks are celebrating our one year anniversary this month. Coupled with the holidays, Shelby and I decided to do something special to reminisce about our first documented year in Suburbia. I give you: The Twelve Months of Freakdom.
In the first month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the second month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the third month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the fourth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the fifth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the sixth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the seventh month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the eighth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: eight ugly dresses, seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the ninth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: nine "Inception" mindfucks, eight ugly dresses, seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the tenth month of existence the Freaks gave to you: ten drunken locksmiths, nine "Inception" mindfucks, eight ugly dresses, seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the eleventh month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: eleven vrooming Jacks, ten drunken locksmiths, nine "Inception" mindfucks, eight ugly dresses, seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
In the twelfth month of existence, the Freaks gave to you: twelve Edward Cullens, eleven vrooming Jacks, ten drunken locksmiths, nine "Inception" mindfucks, eight ugly dresses, seven yapping Tweeks, six thumping vans, five pole shoes, four knocking Mormons, three murdered ladies, two mocha lattes, a ukulele and a LEMUR.
Whew. That's a lot in one year. Well, from all of us here in Suburbia to all of you out there, Merry Happy! We can't wait to see what's in store for our next twelve months of existence...
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Monday, 13 December 2010
Welcome to the Wasteland
Fri, 12/10/10
FFFFUUUUUUUU
Welcome to the Wasteland
Kari, Shelby, Abby and I got our tickets at the door at the Orbit Room. We stood outside in near freezing weather to see the band 'Bad City.' After 20-30 minutes of anxiously waiting and freezing the doors finally opened 20 or so minutes after they were listed on the ticket. It was well worth it.
While we were waiting Shelby and I walked over to the restrooms and we noticed Josh (lead singer of Bad City) was walking about, Kari and Abby also saw him over by the bar. We were waiting in the crowd just waiting for Bad City to come up on stage... and becoming a bit impatient but eventually the show started.
Ok, so here is the setlist:
Look Out!
Showdown in Central Park
Take Me for a Ride *
Do You Believe in Rock n Roll
Wildlife
If I missed any than sorry... memory is short. Josh at the time wasn't feeling well (Sorry you didn't feel well Josh!)
*Josh messed up the setlist at some point because he called "Take Me for a Ride" Do You Believe in Rock n Roll. (Change in the setlist maybe? or maybe he forgot)
Videos to come soon (the ones I took on Abby's camera.) So after the show we went to the merch table and we were the first ones there. Josh was there (surprise!) but he was on the phone. He got off the phone and quickly apologized. Then Kari said she was sad that they didn't play 'Paul Stanley' and Josh was like 'you know that song?' Kari was like 'I have the record...' He thought it was cool.
He shook our hands and got to know our names. We bought some sherts (lol Kari) and hung back for a while. So then Abby and Kari went to get water so Kari put on the Bad City shirt, then she threw her shirt back at Shelby. Then Kari stepped on this guy's foot on accident and bumped into him and spilled some of his beer, some landing on Kari. Then he stood there for a while with a super pissed off look on his face then he droped his beer, flipped her off and walked away.
FFFFUUUUUUUU
Abby then went to go back to get a water and Kari came back to chill with Shelby and I. Abby came back and we sat on a counter thing infront of the merch table for a while. Eventually Josh came over and hung out with us. He was super nice he was talking about him having to wear a beanie for people to like him. He sat in the middle of the floor and we were told we couldn't be sitting there because drunk people were walking through.
I got him to sign my shirt and it literally says 'Something Crazy!!! MUAH
& here is the proof:
Josh gave us all hugs because he didn't know if we were still going to be there when he got back, then left to go hang out in the bands room so we were left just talking for a while amongst ourselves.. the band waved at Kari and Abby, Shelby and I were over at the merch table.. until he came back and we went out with him to their tour van. Kari I think was trying to scare Josh by saying that I forgot the keys to her car in the venue (we didn't have access back in).
We had the band sign a CD for Emily, who was not able to make it to the show that night. Josh signed it 'Merry Christmas' while singing it. =)
We took a group photo... 3 actually.
The first one, is one I actually think is my favorite out of them all.
Then there is the second one:
The third and final one we took with them seemed to be a fail.
Sunday, 12 December 2010
Oh My Goodness
Thank you to all the people who have read our blog! Even if you're just glanced at it or whatever. Even if you just looked at it and went, "What. The. Fuck." don't worry, I do that everytime I look in the mirror. Hope everyone is enjoying the snow, or if not, I hope you're enjoying your December. Or maybe you aren't enjoying your December, if you aren't, man, that really sucks. I'm enjoying my December, I think it's the best mouth of my life, so far. Anyways, stay classy world.
-S
-S
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
He's a fucking star!
A monumental event occurred recently in Freakdom: We all met Jeffree Star!
Sunday, Jeffree's "Fresh Meat" tour rolled into Mt. Clemens, and for only $12 per ticket, how could we say no? The shindig went down at The Hayloft Club; I've been to some pretty weird concert venues in my day, but this one might take the cake. The club was pretty small, so the stage was really tiny. Doors were at six (early!), but most of the duration of the show was the house DJ bleeping and blopping some random garble. There were two openers: some Cadaver dude (a hometown electronic rapper...he was actually pretty cool) and IT BOYS (a party rock band from Hollywood, whose lineup included Jeffree's keytar player...not kidding). They played about five songs each, then Shelby, Emily, and Ashley loitered around the merch area, snagging posters, shirts, EPs, and rubber bracelets with Jeffree-esque sayings on them. Abby and I held down the fort, AKA a table near the dance floor, where we swayed to the random bleeping and blopping from DJ Ian Divine (which made us both think of Mat), and swooned when Jeffree walked right by us in his winter boots and fluffy parka-like coat. It was cute.
By the time Jeffree's set rolled around, we were all super pumped from talking to some of the guys from IT BOYS, and we were totes ready to get fucked up and dance. There were only around fifty people in the whole venue, but it was really intimate and nice. Even though we were at the back of the dance floor (the width was only about three rows of people; we were in the fourth), we were really up close, but not close enough to shake Jeffree's hand. I don't remember the exact order of the setlist, but I know that this is what was played:
Prisoner
Beauty Killer
Ice Cream
In Love with a Killer
So Fierce
Get Away with Murder
Bitch, Please!
Lollipop Luxury
Fame and Riches, Rehab Bitches
After the set, he said he'd see us all back at the merch table for a meet and greet, so there was a mad scramble from the dance floor to the merch areas, which weren't far away. We got a relatively good position in line, and waited to meet "The Pink One". After a few signings and hugs (plus, he said my eyeshadow was cool!), we took a group picture to forever immortalize our first real adventure since Emily and Ashley joined the Freaks full-time.
Don't we all look fab in our Sunday club best?
Sunday, Jeffree's "Fresh Meat" tour rolled into Mt. Clemens, and for only $12 per ticket, how could we say no? The shindig went down at The Hayloft Club; I've been to some pretty weird concert venues in my day, but this one might take the cake. The club was pretty small, so the stage was really tiny. Doors were at six (early!), but most of the duration of the show was the house DJ bleeping and blopping some random garble. There were two openers: some Cadaver dude (a hometown electronic rapper...he was actually pretty cool) and IT BOYS (a party rock band from Hollywood, whose lineup included Jeffree's keytar player...not kidding). They played about five songs each, then Shelby, Emily, and Ashley loitered around the merch area, snagging posters, shirts, EPs, and rubber bracelets with Jeffree-esque sayings on them. Abby and I held down the fort, AKA a table near the dance floor, where we swayed to the random bleeping and blopping from DJ Ian Divine (which made us both think of Mat), and swooned when Jeffree walked right by us in his winter boots and fluffy parka-like coat. It was cute.
By the time Jeffree's set rolled around, we were all super pumped from talking to some of the guys from IT BOYS, and we were totes ready to get fucked up and dance. There were only around fifty people in the whole venue, but it was really intimate and nice. Even though we were at the back of the dance floor (the width was only about three rows of people; we were in the fourth), we were really up close, but not close enough to shake Jeffree's hand. I don't remember the exact order of the setlist, but I know that this is what was played:
Prisoner
Beauty Killer
Ice Cream
In Love with a Killer
So Fierce
Get Away with Murder
Bitch, Please!
Lollipop Luxury
Fame and Riches, Rehab Bitches
After the set, he said he'd see us all back at the merch table for a meet and greet, so there was a mad scramble from the dance floor to the merch areas, which weren't far away. We got a relatively good position in line, and waited to meet "The Pink One". After a few signings and hugs (plus, he said my eyeshadow was cool!), we took a group picture to forever immortalize our first real adventure since Emily and Ashley joined the Freaks full-time.
Don't we all look fab in our Sunday club best?
Saturday, 4 December 2010
'Tis the Season...
...To be obnoxious! As the Freaks celebrate our one-year anniversary, (side note: Shelby just snapped herself into a blanket and is flapping about) we're only asking for one gift: PLEASE GOD, SOMEONE GET US BETTER SOUND QUALITY!
And with that, here's "Twihard", episode two. Enjoy!
And with that, here's "Twihard", episode two. Enjoy!
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
*insert dramatic music here*
Another teaser for our super special secret project, courtesy of Omegle.
Conversation One
Freaks: I'm Edward!
Stranger: Hi, Edward.
Freaks: I eat mountain lions
Freaks: and go emo
Freaks: because I'm Edward Cullen!
Stranger: Why do you let Bella cheat on you?
Freaks: Because she's a whore, and I'm Edward Cullen!
Stranger: She makes out with "Jacobo" and you don't do shit.
Stranger: Oh Edward...
Stranger: you had potential.
Freaks: I already knew that, because I'm Edward Cullen!
Freaks: And I don't shower!
Freaks: And I don't shower!
Stranger: Is fucking you really like sticking a popsicle up a vag?
Freaks: Yes it is, because I have poor circulation, because I'm Edward Cullen!
Stranger: The delusional girls fancy you.
Freaks: At least someone does!
Stranger: Poor guy.
Freaks: No, I'm rich, white, and privileged, because I'm Edward Cullen!
Conversation Two
Stranger: Hey.
Freaks: I'm Bella Swan.
Freaks: My life sucks.
Stranger: EW, GO SCREW YOURSELF!
Conversation Three
Freaks: I'm Jacob Black.
Stranger: I'm leaving.
Conversation Four
Freaks: I'm Emmett Cullen.
Stranger: ME GUSTA!
Stranger: ME GUSTA!
Freaks: I GUSTA, too!
Stranger: MY FRIEND IS HIS COUSIN. I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING.
Freaks: Which one?
Stranger: KELLAN LUTZ.
Freaks: That guy's a dick.
Stranger: How so?
Freaks: That pussy doesn't like football.
Stranger: ASL?
Freaks: Age: 100
Freaks: Man
Freaks: Forks, WA
Stranger: I like older men.
Freaks: ME GUSTA!
Conversation Five
Freaks: I'm Rosalie Hale.
Freaks: ALL I WANT IS BABIES!
Stranger: Good for you.
Freaks: Emmett Cullen will make me babies!
Stranger: Like Twilight?
Stranger: LOL
Freaks: What?
Stranger: Nevermind
Freaks: Okay
Stranger: There's nothing to do and I'm on this site.
Stranger: What is wrong with me?
Stranger: What is wrong with me?
Freaks: You don't have enough money.
Freaks: Or babies.
Stranger: I don't want babies now.
Freaks: You don't want babies?!
Stranger: I do
Stranger: just not yet.
Freaks: Are you gay?
Stranger: I'm not.
Stranger: Not even close.
Freaks: Well you must be, because you don't want babies.
Stranger: I just said I do.
Freaks: Did you?
Stranger: Are you a dude?
Freaks: No!
Freaks: Sir, I am a female.
Freaks: How dare you imply that I have manly bits!
Stranger: You just want online babies?
Stranger: Get them in real life!
Freaks: YOU CAN GET BABIES ONLINE?!
Freaks: WHERE?!
Stranger: Um, eBay?
Freaks: I hear they're giving you babies like t-shirts in China.
Freaks: I should go get twelve!
Stranger: Are you Asian?
Freaks: No!
Freaks: I'm privileged and white, and I'll get whatever kind of babies I want!
Stranger: I'm white.
Stranger: My wife's Asian though.
Stranger: Filipino.
Freaks: My maid is Brazilian.
Stranger: You have a maid?
Stranger: Are you rich, or just lazy?
Freaks: I'm rich and privileged.
Freaks: I'm not lazy! I've gone to high school every day for the past one hundred years.
Freaks: Except when I'm eating mountain lions.
Stranger: You must be living in China, because they eat some weird things over there.
Freaks: No, I live in Forks, Washington!
Stranger: Wow, stop giving out your state.
Freaks: Why?
Freaks: I'm in no danger from the Internet!
Freaks: I can crush the Internet with my bare hands!
Stranger: Cool, do it!
Stranger: I've been to Seattle.
Stranger: It was cool, but I don't think I could live there.
Freaks: Same here; too much sun.
Stranger: How do you keep coming up with dumb Twilight?
Stranger: I hate Twilight!
Freaks: I love twilight - the sun is so beautiful.
Freaks: I wish I could eat apples.
Stranger: I'm bored.
Freaks: Go buy a new car.
Freaks: And some babies.
Stranger: I have a car.
Freaks: Get a new one.
Stranger: I don't need one.
Freaks: That's what I do when I'm bored.
Stranger: You get a car?
Freaks: I have seven.
Stranger: I thought you lived in Twilight.
Stranger: You can just jump.
Freaks: No, I live in Forks
Freaks: and jumping is so low class.
Stranger: I don't really care if I'm high or low class.
Stranger: Being high class is like being normal
Stranger: and normal isn't fun.
Freaks: That's why I sparkle.
Stranger: Why are you a bitch?
Stranger: Is it because you're rich and you think you're better than everyone?
Stranger: Why don't you give money to people who need it?
Freaks: I grow weary of this conversation.
Freaks: I shall go buy some new cars and babies.
Stranger: Yeah, go ahead.
Freaks: Have a good day, sir.
Have you figured it out yet? Here's a very big clue:
After lots of this,
there came this. Enjoy!
LAST MINUTE EDIT: It has come to my attention that this little project of ours is banned in Germany. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL. That is all.
New Freaks in Town
This town is not only big enough for the three of us...NOW IT'S BIG ENOUGH FOR THE FIVE OF US!
That's right, there are two new Freaks in town: Emily (who has been promoted from Sometimes Freak), and Ashley (who actually isn't necessarily in town, but is a new Freak none-the-less).
Also, a glimpse from our new project:
You are still not prepared.
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
What's that sound?
Do you hear it? Someting big this way comes. I'd tell you what it is, but of course, I'd have to kill you.
But really: It's coming. You are not prepared.
But really: It's coming. You are not prepared.
Friday, 15 October 2010
Freak Transportation Units
Us Freaks go on a lot of adventures, but we have to have some way of getting to them! That's where the Freak Transportation Units come in. So far, there have been three FTUs, each with it's own distinct personality, points of awesomeness, and points of pure suckage. Lets meet them now, starting with...
Alas, as Darren got older, it became apparent that Kari couldn't keep him forever. So, she got Jack (who I'm going to do a separate post on) and now Darren is sitting in Kari's dad's front yard with a "FOR SALE" sign in his window, waiting for a batch of wanna-be Freaks to take him home. He's still the most badass SUV this world has ever seen.
DARREN
Darren, a '96 Ford Explorer, was passed down to Kari from her Aunt/Great Aunt/Grandma/I don't even know Dawn. When still in Dawn's possession, Darren spent almost every day driving back and forth from Detroit. It wasn't until Kari's 16th birthday when Darren was officially hers. Unfortunately, Kari didn't have her license yet, so Darren spent a good year sitting in the driveway doing nothing but rusting.
When Kari did get her license, it became apparent very quickly that Darren had many, MANY problems. For starters, only his front passenger door opened, if he sat in traffic for too long he would overheat, his AC was long gone, if you could get any of the windows to go up or down it was a miracle, the doors didn't properly lock, many new parts were needed, and he had a wasps nest in his driver's side mirror.
Eventually, some of Darren's problems got fixed: The wasps were killed, he got a new radiator, we could open all but one of the doors from the outside, and Kari could put all the windows up or down with no problem. Sure, you couldn't open the back doors from the outside and the AC still didn't work, but he was all us Freaks had, and we loved him.
Many great things happened in Darren, from almost rolling him getting off the highway to drop off Emily, to cutting across 5 lanes of traffic to get to a Tim Horton's on the way to meet Darren McCarty (whom Darren was named after). Plus, there were all those trips to school, the grocery store, the mall, and various friend's houses that all kind of blend together because the were so freaking many!! Whenever the Freaks had somewhere to go, more often than not Darren was our choice.
Oh, and Darren was a complete badass. He really WOULD eat your face if he got the chance. Whenever Kari started Darren, he would make this totally awesome "RRRAAAAWWWRRR" noise and scare away any small animals in the area. Too bad his badassery didn't stop him from being butt-raped when Kari and Shelby went to Toronto. All those CDs that hobo stole will be missed, especially the expensive imported ones...
Alas, as Darren got older, it became apparent that Kari couldn't keep him forever. So, she got Jack (who I'm going to do a separate post on) and now Darren is sitting in Kari's dad's front yard with a "FOR SALE" sign in his window, waiting for a batch of wanna-be Freaks to take him home. He's still the most badass SUV this world has ever seen.
(NOTE TO KARI: If any of this is wrong, feel free to change it)
TOSHI
I've already done a short little blurb about Toshi on my own blog (right HERE!), but I might as well do it properly here. A '95 red Ford Taurus, Toshi was originally owned by my mom. At the time, he was mostly used to drive me and my sister's lazy asses to school even though we could have walked. Many "fond" memories of my sister picking on me were made in the backseat. But then, this summer, things changed as I moved up to the front seat and Toshi became MY CAR!!
Granted, Toshi wasn't as beat up as Darren, but he had/has his fair share of problems. His AC has gone from not working, to working but smelling like cat pee, to not working again many times, his brakes have completely gone out before and now they make a weird grinding noise, one of his tires keeps going flat, and, though not really an actual problem, his speedometer only goes up to 85. I mean, Darren's went well over 100, COME ON TOSHI!!
Granted, Toshi wasn't as beat up as Darren, but he had/has his fair share of problems. His AC has gone from not working, to working but smelling like cat pee, to not working again many times, his brakes have completely gone out before and now they make a weird grinding noise, one of his tires keeps going flat, and, though not really an actual problem, his speedometer only goes up to 85. I mean, Darren's went well over 100, COME ON TOSHI!!
But Toshi has something Darren only had for a short amount of time: a way to hook up an iPod or MP3 player to the radio. For a while, Darren had this thing we named Severus Snape that actually went through the radio (you had to set it to a certain station and everything) that we could hook our music listening devices up to. But Snape didn't last very long and we had to force ourselves to listen to the radio. But Toshi, he has something that you put in the cassette player, named Sigmund, that works better than Snape ever could. So we could blast all the Russian power ballads or East Bay Hardcore all we wanted in Toshi without having to worry about it being interrupted by "LOOK ME IN THE EYEBALL!!!"
Now, I have to admit Toshi's MS Paint drawing is a bit misleading. You might be thinking he's a total badass like Darren, but he isn't. He tries his best, though, he really does.
Since we've only been driving Toshi since early this summer, we haven't had that many Freak adventures in him, but the one's we've had so far have been pretty awesome. We took him to the AFI show at Verge in Milwaukee and the Kill Hannah show at the Orbit Room in Grand Rapids. And a few nights ago, when we had a sweet midnight rave in the underwear section of Walmart, Toshi was how we got there.
~~~
That's it for now on the Freak Transportation Units. I'll be making a new blog on Jack, Kari's new car, in a week or so once I get to know him. And by that, I mean get off my lazy ass and draw an MS Paint drawing of him. I mean, it's not that hard, why am I putting it off so much?! Oh, that reminds me, I think this is the first time I've put up one of my MS Paint drawings on the Freak's blog!! NON-ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ALL AROUND!!
~Peanut
Now, I have to admit Toshi's MS Paint drawing is a bit misleading. You might be thinking he's a total badass like Darren, but he isn't. He tries his best, though, he really does.
Since we've only been driving Toshi since early this summer, we haven't had that many Freak adventures in him, but the one's we've had so far have been pretty awesome. We took him to the AFI show at Verge in Milwaukee and the Kill Hannah show at the Orbit Room in Grand Rapids. And a few nights ago, when we had a sweet midnight rave in the underwear section of Walmart, Toshi was how we got there.
~~~
That's it for now on the Freak Transportation Units. I'll be making a new blog on Jack, Kari's new car, in a week or so once I get to know him. And by that, I mean get off my lazy ass and draw an MS Paint drawing of him. I mean, it's not that hard, why am I putting it off so much?! Oh, that reminds me, I think this is the first time I've put up one of my MS Paint drawings on the Freak's blog!! NON-ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ALL AROUND!!
~Peanut
Thursday, 7 October 2010
What will the freaks do next? YOU BE THE JUGDE. No, actually, you shouldn't be the judge. We don't have money to travel the world and do stupid shit everywhere. Maybe some day though. I feel so old typing on this keyboard, for like, the fucking blind. These letters on this key board have to be like a meter tell! God damn. Anyway, what's happening in Brighton High, you might ask. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What's happening in the gay commity you might ask? Suicide. No, really, suicide. Links later.
-S
-S
Friday, 3 September 2010
Failure: We do it right.
Normally on this blog, we document the various adventures us Freaks have in Livingston County and various other places we travel to. But today, we are not going to talk about one of our adventures. Instead, we are going to talk about our lack of an adventure because we all fail epically at everything in the history of ever.
It all started out at Kari and Shelby's house where we had just finished up a delicious meal of vegetarian Stromboli. We were just sitting at the table, nibbling at the remaining salad, when somehow the topic of brownies and how we all wanted them came up. At the same time, Kari was texting part-time Freak Emily, who was sitting at her house bored out of her mind. So we came up with an idea: after a quick trip to the store to get whatever ingredients we didn't already have, we would take everything to Emily's and make the brownies over there. It seemed like a perfect plan. We should have known better.
Kari and I ran to the store to get the vegan butter, egg substitute, and soy milk while Shelby stayed behind to give Tweek a bath because he was very itchy. We were gone less than 20 minutes and nothing remarkable happened for either party. We got back, gathered up all the stuff for brownies, and got ready to go. This is when the failure started.
When we got to Darren, Kari realized two things 1). Her keys were not in the ignition like she thought they were and 2). her phone was still somewhere inside. She turned around to look in the house for these things, but Shelby had just locked and closed the door, thinking Kari already had the keys. Thus began our attempt to break into our own damn house. (Ok, it's not actually MY house, but I'm over there so often it might as well be)
First, Shelby tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin, a pointed stick, my pocket knife, and anything else that looked like it might fit into the keyhole. They we all threw our weight against the door, hoping maybe the lock sucked enough to actually give way to our collective 300-ish pound force, but since they just had the locks replaced last month, the door remained closed. After cutting a hole in the screen of the window on the porch but then realizing the window was also locked, we looked around the rest of the house to see if any of the windows might be open. They weren't, but that didn't stop us from trying to get into Kari's room in what I like to call a heaping pile of failure.
Kari and I dragged their really old porch-couch-thing over to the window. While we stood on the seat to prevent it from flipping over, Shelby climbed onto the back part and looked to see if maybe, just maybe, we could open the window and get inside. We couldn't. In a last ditch effort, Kari called her mom (who was in Pentwater visiting their Aunt Noel AKA Shake's mom), who then called a lock smith to come to our assistance.
While we sat in the back of Darren waiting for the lock smith, we started to discuss who's fault this was. We all came to the same conclusion: It was all our damn fault. It was Kari's fault for not making sure she already had the keys. It was Shelby's fault for locking the door before she was sure Kari had the keys. It was my fault for not making sure Kari and Shelby made these mistakes in the first place. After about 5 minutes, the lock smith and his wife showed up and he started work on the door. He didn't have any of his picks, so he had to use this little plastic thingy that didn't work.
As Kari took him to the side door to see if he could get that one open, his wife took the same little plastic thingy and tried it herself. In less than a minute, she had the door open and Tweek attacking her pants. Shelby and I went inside to find the keys (they were on the table under a notebook) as Kari paid the lock smith $40 for having his wife break into her house. Awesome. By the time the lock smith left, it was too late to go to Emily's, but we still wanted those goddamn brownies!
While blasting AFI and Blaqk Audio to drown our sorrows, we started work on the brownies and almost immediatly started failing. We should have known things would not turn out that great when I spilled a ton of sugar all over the floor, or when we couldn't get the clumps out of the egg substitute, or when Kari got flour and cocoa all over her shirt, or when the butter started to solidify while we were mixing it with the other ingredients. But no, we where too distracted by the lack of an "OH!" in Killing Lights because there should TOTALLY BE ONE RIGHT THERE!! Which is probably how we ended up with doughy, overly buttery brownies. There are not enough sad faces in the world :( :( :(
Moral of the story: If you're going to fail, you might as well try to fail as much as you can. Now watch this video to cheer you up.
It videos like this that restore my faith in humanity. Really, I'm not kidding.
~Peanut
It all started out at Kari and Shelby's house where we had just finished up a delicious meal of vegetarian Stromboli. We were just sitting at the table, nibbling at the remaining salad, when somehow the topic of brownies and how we all wanted them came up. At the same time, Kari was texting part-time Freak Emily, who was sitting at her house bored out of her mind. So we came up with an idea: after a quick trip to the store to get whatever ingredients we didn't already have, we would take everything to Emily's and make the brownies over there. It seemed like a perfect plan. We should have known better.
Kari and I ran to the store to get the vegan butter, egg substitute, and soy milk while Shelby stayed behind to give Tweek a bath because he was very itchy. We were gone less than 20 minutes and nothing remarkable happened for either party. We got back, gathered up all the stuff for brownies, and got ready to go. This is when the failure started.
When we got to Darren, Kari realized two things 1). Her keys were not in the ignition like she thought they were and 2). her phone was still somewhere inside. She turned around to look in the house for these things, but Shelby had just locked and closed the door, thinking Kari already had the keys. Thus began our attempt to break into our own damn house. (Ok, it's not actually MY house, but I'm over there so often it might as well be)
First, Shelby tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin, a pointed stick, my pocket knife, and anything else that looked like it might fit into the keyhole. They we all threw our weight against the door, hoping maybe the lock sucked enough to actually give way to our collective 300-ish pound force, but since they just had the locks replaced last month, the door remained closed. After cutting a hole in the screen of the window on the porch but then realizing the window was also locked, we looked around the rest of the house to see if any of the windows might be open. They weren't, but that didn't stop us from trying to get into Kari's room in what I like to call a heaping pile of failure.
Kari and I dragged their really old porch-couch-thing over to the window. While we stood on the seat to prevent it from flipping over, Shelby climbed onto the back part and looked to see if maybe, just maybe, we could open the window and get inside. We couldn't. In a last ditch effort, Kari called her mom (who was in Pentwater visiting their Aunt Noel AKA Shake's mom), who then called a lock smith to come to our assistance.
While we sat in the back of Darren waiting for the lock smith, we started to discuss who's fault this was. We all came to the same conclusion: It was all our damn fault. It was Kari's fault for not making sure she already had the keys. It was Shelby's fault for locking the door before she was sure Kari had the keys. It was my fault for not making sure Kari and Shelby made these mistakes in the first place. After about 5 minutes, the lock smith and his wife showed up and he started work on the door. He didn't have any of his picks, so he had to use this little plastic thingy that didn't work.
As Kari took him to the side door to see if he could get that one open, his wife took the same little plastic thingy and tried it herself. In less than a minute, she had the door open and Tweek attacking her pants. Shelby and I went inside to find the keys (they were on the table under a notebook) as Kari paid the lock smith $40 for having his wife break into her house. Awesome. By the time the lock smith left, it was too late to go to Emily's, but we still wanted those goddamn brownies!
While blasting AFI and Blaqk Audio to drown our sorrows, we started work on the brownies and almost immediatly started failing. We should have known things would not turn out that great when I spilled a ton of sugar all over the floor, or when we couldn't get the clumps out of the egg substitute, or when Kari got flour and cocoa all over her shirt, or when the butter started to solidify while we were mixing it with the other ingredients. But no, we where too distracted by the lack of an "OH!" in Killing Lights because there should TOTALLY BE ONE RIGHT THERE!! Which is probably how we ended up with doughy, overly buttery brownies. There are not enough sad faces in the world :( :( :(
Moral of the story: If you're going to fail, you might as well try to fail as much as you can. Now watch this video to cheer you up.
It videos like this that restore my faith in humanity. Really, I'm not kidding.
~Peanut
Monday, 23 August 2010
Where the hell have you been?
Oh, here and there. Thanks for asking.
But really, I'm surprised that the Blog Protective Services haven't taken our blog away and charged us with neglect. And then put us away to rot in prison. Eep. We've got some silly stories about the past two months to share with ye all, so without further delay, I give you "The Freak Days of Summer: The Past Two Months in Livingston County."
The Tweek of Suburbia
On June 24, The Freaks added a new member to our family - a chihuahua named Tweek. We adopted him from the Livingston County Humane Society, and he is the weirdest, perv-iest dog ever, which means that he's perfect for us! Photospam to follow soon.
I Challenge You to a Duel!
We started a Twitter contest between the three of us to see how many responses we can get from people who are relevant in our world. Since the beginning of the beginning of the contest on June 30, we've been tweeting our little hearts out, and I AM WINNING THE CONTEST. EAT IT.
Freaky Fashion
During the first two weeks of July, Shelby and I had family visiting form Magdeburg, Germany. Crazy, right? My grandma's sister-in-law Ermie, her niece Annie, and Annie's son Duztin all came and stayed for our Independence Day celebration. The first time I saw Duztin, who is sixteen, he was wearing a rainbow rhinestone-encrusted Rolling Stones shirt, those hideous plaid shorts that all the dudes are wearing these days, and white low-top Chucks. Oh, and he had a man bag. I'm afraid of Germany now. Really, I am.
BITCH, I AM FROM CHICAGO!
On July 8, The Freaks took a road-trip to Grand Rapids to see The Chicago Circus, AKA Bad City, Kill Hannah, and The Smashing Pumpkins, at the Orbit Room. We only stayed for the first two bands, because by that time, we were all sick of Mat Devine kissing Billy Corgan's ass on Twitter. All in all, it was a great adventure. On the way there, we Kill Hannah dance partied in Toshi. We got there super early and snuck Shelby and Emily into the 16+ show, but it was a no-camera venue, so we don't have awesome pics, but I'm sure there are videos around here somewhere. We partook in pre-show swag, thanks to Greg, and then ended up in a giant cluster of Kill Hannah fans, which was perfectly okay with us. After the show, we went back to the merch table to hit on Greg and the lead singer of Bad City, then we departed. Hunger became us, so we stopped at my FOR REAL favorite Pilot truck stop (see here for more info) for Subway and disgusting bathrooms. Then later, we stopped at a rest stop because we needed some candy, but then there was this creep guy, so we left and eventually made it home.
Here's the setlist:
"Life in the Arctic"
"The Chase"
"Nerve Gas"
"Strobe Lights"
"Black Poison Blood"
"Kennedy"
"Lips like Morphine"
The short set disappointed us, especially when we found out that The Smashing Pumpkins played for nearly two hours, but despite everything, it was totes worth seeing Mat Devine's awesome feather headdress up close.
When it Rains, it Pours
And when it sprinkles, our tent leaks and we all get pissed.
The third week of July took us for an exciting camping trip to our usual spot in Davison, Outdoor Adventures. It's a "Lakeside Resort" (whatever the fuck that means) that Abby's mom has a life-long membership to, so every year, we go "Girl Camping." This year, like last year, we had to sleep out in a tent in the yard of the cabin. The first night, it rained, but the tent was fine. The second night, however, the sprinklers came on, and we were ambushed on both sides. The tent started leaking, and the three of us were awake and very pissed at 4 am. Not fun. Somewhere between blissful and pissed-ful, Shelby got hit on by a bunch of guys that she wanted nothing to do with, Tweek bit one of Abby's cousins, and Abby's grandpa had a minor heart attack. Oh, and our Freaky Ambassador, Katie, dropped by for a day. It's always good to re-unite with friends.
Mind-Fuck
Cinema these days is nothing to smile at. However, once in a while, a new movie comes along that tickles the Freaks' fancies. This time around, that movie happens to be "Inception." If you haven't seen it, we all highly suggest it, especially if you like your brain being turned inside out and being raped ruthlessly. We saw it with Abby's mom last Saturday night, and we're still all like "WHAT."
The Third Time is NOT the Charm
Last night, The Freaks and the Sometimes Freak, Emily, went to see AFI play at Pine Knob in Clarkston. They're playing with Green Day this tour, and each of us have been really annoyed with Green Day as of late. Especially after last night. If you're trying to make a documentary about the terrible effects of alcohol on washed-up adults, go to a Green Day show. Seriously.
We had been planning this event for quite a while, except it originated by getting ever AFI fan we know (which isn't many around here) to go to the show with us and support one of our favorite bands, since we sorta already knew what to expect when it came to most Green Day fans converting into AFI fans. That plan didn't work. So we had a four-man mosh-pit going on the hill, and everyone around us was completely silent. They didn't even cheer.
Here's the setlist:
"Medicate"
"Girls Not Grey"
"The Leaving Song, part 2"
"I Am Trying Very Hard to Be Here"
"End Transmission"
"Dancing through Sunday"
"Silver and Cold"
"Miss Murder"
"Love like Winter"
After AFI's set, we were men on a mission: to meet someone affiliated with the band. So we walked aimlessly in circles, until we thought we saw Jade Puget in a restricted area by the West Gate, where we came in. Unfortunately, it turned out to be some creepy lady that had the same hair cut and color as Jade's. Slightly defeated, we went on until we were confronted by a group of DFers from Ann Arbor (where Abby and I go to school), who were asking if we knew where to meet the band. We were about to ask them the same thing. We chatted for a while and then went our separate ways. Upon stopping at the only merch booth that had more than just three different styles of AFI t-shirts, we bought the Freaky Protege, Ansley, a Crash Love poster, and then kept on with our search. Instead of finding AFI, we met another DFer named Ashley, who had traveled to the show all by her onesie from Ohio, so she joined our posse and the search continued.
We stopped occasionally to hear what nonsense Green Day was up to, and sometimes it was horrid. Especially when Billy Joe invited a fan on stage to sing "Longview." That girl was terrible. Soon after, we headed to the bathroom by the Jack bar, where we encountered the drunkest girl I think I have ever seen in my life. We all got a good laugh out of her.
Ashley thought she spied the buses outside, so we went to ask if any of the security guards knew if anyone from AFI had been out in the parking lot, because apparently, that was the method that Ashley had used to meet Davey in the past (We're so jealous). The first set of guards were obnoxiously rude, but the second ones were nice. We talked to them for about ten minutes before we went back to the bathrooms to hang out where we thought the backstage area would be. Then we went to go look for the buses.
We walked around the parking lot aimlessly for a while, and then someone got the brilliant idea to tweet Hunter to ask if they were hanging around anywhere. We moved closer to the exit at the East Plaza to wait. After a few minutes that felt like forever, Hunter tweeted us back and told us that the bus had to leave for Dallas immediately following the show and that he was sorry that he couldn't come and talk to us.
We didn't give up. We high-tailed it over to the security guard by the trailers, who told us that the buses leave from the West Gate. So we booked it over there and ran into some Green Day fans who were actually really nice, so we waited for the buses with them.
It took a while, but we finally saw AFI's purple bus pull out of Pine Knob, and we were all relieved that we at least accomplished something. Plus, we all made a new friend.
All five of us had a tailgate party in Darren after the bus left, where we snacked on Wheat Thins, popcorn, and sandwiches. Then we exchanged info with Ashley and got kicked out by security. All in all, a good night, but unfortunately we didn't get to meet Hunter. There will always be next time...and Freaks don't give up.
So that was our summer in a nutshell. You really didn't miss much, did you?
But really, I'm surprised that the Blog Protective Services haven't taken our blog away and charged us with neglect. And then put us away to rot in prison. Eep. We've got some silly stories about the past two months to share with ye all, so without further delay, I give you "The Freak Days of Summer: The Past Two Months in Livingston County."
The Tweek of Suburbia
On June 24, The Freaks added a new member to our family - a chihuahua named Tweek. We adopted him from the Livingston County Humane Society, and he is the weirdest, perv-iest dog ever, which means that he's perfect for us! Photospam to follow soon.
I Challenge You to a Duel!
We started a Twitter contest between the three of us to see how many responses we can get from people who are relevant in our world. Since the beginning of the beginning of the contest on June 30, we've been tweeting our little hearts out, and I AM WINNING THE CONTEST. EAT IT.
Freaky Fashion
During the first two weeks of July, Shelby and I had family visiting form Magdeburg, Germany. Crazy, right? My grandma's sister-in-law Ermie, her niece Annie, and Annie's son Duztin all came and stayed for our Independence Day celebration. The first time I saw Duztin, who is sixteen, he was wearing a rainbow rhinestone-encrusted Rolling Stones shirt, those hideous plaid shorts that all the dudes are wearing these days, and white low-top Chucks. Oh, and he had a man bag. I'm afraid of Germany now. Really, I am.
BITCH, I AM FROM CHICAGO!
On July 8, The Freaks took a road-trip to Grand Rapids to see The Chicago Circus, AKA Bad City, Kill Hannah, and The Smashing Pumpkins, at the Orbit Room. We only stayed for the first two bands, because by that time, we were all sick of Mat Devine kissing Billy Corgan's ass on Twitter. All in all, it was a great adventure. On the way there, we Kill Hannah dance partied in Toshi. We got there super early and snuck Shelby and Emily into the 16+ show, but it was a no-camera venue, so we don't have awesome pics, but I'm sure there are videos around here somewhere. We partook in pre-show swag, thanks to Greg, and then ended up in a giant cluster of Kill Hannah fans, which was perfectly okay with us. After the show, we went back to the merch table to hit on Greg and the lead singer of Bad City, then we departed. Hunger became us, so we stopped at my FOR REAL favorite Pilot truck stop (see here for more info) for Subway and disgusting bathrooms. Then later, we stopped at a rest stop because we needed some candy, but then there was this creep guy, so we left and eventually made it home.
Here's the setlist:
"Life in the Arctic"
"The Chase"
"Nerve Gas"
"Strobe Lights"
"Black Poison Blood"
"Kennedy"
"Lips like Morphine"
The short set disappointed us, especially when we found out that The Smashing Pumpkins played for nearly two hours, but despite everything, it was totes worth seeing Mat Devine's awesome feather headdress up close.
When it Rains, it Pours
And when it sprinkles, our tent leaks and we all get pissed.
The third week of July took us for an exciting camping trip to our usual spot in Davison, Outdoor Adventures. It's a "Lakeside Resort" (whatever the fuck that means) that Abby's mom has a life-long membership to, so every year, we go "Girl Camping." This year, like last year, we had to sleep out in a tent in the yard of the cabin. The first night, it rained, but the tent was fine. The second night, however, the sprinklers came on, and we were ambushed on both sides. The tent started leaking, and the three of us were awake and very pissed at 4 am. Not fun. Somewhere between blissful and pissed-ful, Shelby got hit on by a bunch of guys that she wanted nothing to do with, Tweek bit one of Abby's cousins, and Abby's grandpa had a minor heart attack. Oh, and our Freaky Ambassador, Katie, dropped by for a day. It's always good to re-unite with friends.
Mind-Fuck
Cinema these days is nothing to smile at. However, once in a while, a new movie comes along that tickles the Freaks' fancies. This time around, that movie happens to be "Inception." If you haven't seen it, we all highly suggest it, especially if you like your brain being turned inside out and being raped ruthlessly. We saw it with Abby's mom last Saturday night, and we're still all like "WHAT."
The Third Time is NOT the Charm
Last night, The Freaks and the Sometimes Freak, Emily, went to see AFI play at Pine Knob in Clarkston. They're playing with Green Day this tour, and each of us have been really annoyed with Green Day as of late. Especially after last night. If you're trying to make a documentary about the terrible effects of alcohol on washed-up adults, go to a Green Day show. Seriously.
We had been planning this event for quite a while, except it originated by getting ever AFI fan we know (which isn't many around here) to go to the show with us and support one of our favorite bands, since we sorta already knew what to expect when it came to most Green Day fans converting into AFI fans. That plan didn't work. So we had a four-man mosh-pit going on the hill, and everyone around us was completely silent. They didn't even cheer.
Here's the setlist:
"Medicate"
"Girls Not Grey"
"The Leaving Song, part 2"
"I Am Trying Very Hard to Be Here"
"End Transmission"
"Dancing through Sunday"
"Silver and Cold"
"Miss Murder"
"Love like Winter"
After AFI's set, we were men on a mission: to meet someone affiliated with the band. So we walked aimlessly in circles, until we thought we saw Jade Puget in a restricted area by the West Gate, where we came in. Unfortunately, it turned out to be some creepy lady that had the same hair cut and color as Jade's. Slightly defeated, we went on until we were confronted by a group of DFers from Ann Arbor (where Abby and I go to school), who were asking if we knew where to meet the band. We were about to ask them the same thing. We chatted for a while and then went our separate ways. Upon stopping at the only merch booth that had more than just three different styles of AFI t-shirts, we bought the Freaky Protege, Ansley, a Crash Love poster, and then kept on with our search. Instead of finding AFI, we met another DFer named Ashley, who had traveled to the show all by her onesie from Ohio, so she joined our posse and the search continued.
We stopped occasionally to hear what nonsense Green Day was up to, and sometimes it was horrid. Especially when Billy Joe invited a fan on stage to sing "Longview." That girl was terrible. Soon after, we headed to the bathroom by the Jack bar, where we encountered the drunkest girl I think I have ever seen in my life. We all got a good laugh out of her.
Ashley thought she spied the buses outside, so we went to ask if any of the security guards knew if anyone from AFI had been out in the parking lot, because apparently, that was the method that Ashley had used to meet Davey in the past (We're so jealous). The first set of guards were obnoxiously rude, but the second ones were nice. We talked to them for about ten minutes before we went back to the bathrooms to hang out where we thought the backstage area would be. Then we went to go look for the buses.
We walked around the parking lot aimlessly for a while, and then someone got the brilliant idea to tweet Hunter to ask if they were hanging around anywhere. We moved closer to the exit at the East Plaza to wait. After a few minutes that felt like forever, Hunter tweeted us back and told us that the bus had to leave for Dallas immediately following the show and that he was sorry that he couldn't come and talk to us.
We didn't give up. We high-tailed it over to the security guard by the trailers, who told us that the buses leave from the West Gate. So we booked it over there and ran into some Green Day fans who were actually really nice, so we waited for the buses with them.
It took a while, but we finally saw AFI's purple bus pull out of Pine Knob, and we were all relieved that we at least accomplished something. Plus, we all made a new friend.
All five of us had a tailgate party in Darren after the bus left, where we snacked on Wheat Thins, popcorn, and sandwiches. Then we exchanged info with Ashley and got kicked out by security. All in all, a good night, but unfortunately we didn't get to meet Hunter. There will always be next time...and Freaks don't give up.
So that was our summer in a nutshell. You really didn't miss much, did you?
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Travel Blog: Milwaukee
This past weekend, The Freaks took the show on the road (hah, Freak Show) to visit the Freaky Ambassador, Katie (AKA Abby's sister) in Milwaukee. Because everybody talky 'bout Milwaukee.
In Soviet Russia, your Maserati is a face!
Periscope Jeep!
Back on the road, approaching Chicago, we switched from random music dance party to Kill Hannah dance party, which we grew weary of after NEARLY TWO FUCKING HOURS OF TRAFFIC! I swear that everything that came out of my mouth from the outskirts of Chicago to the Wisconsin border was "FUCK!"
We headed back toward the pier to wait for Shelby's friend Amber, who never showed up thanks to bad planning on the parts of both parties. Katie and Lacey played catch, and Katie got hit in the knee with a baseball. We also found the best boat in existence:
Except the bathroom stall doors were not lined note pads.
Our original plan was to get over to the main stage at 6 PM, but after we ate at 4 (the only thing Shelby and I could have were a disgusting variety of cheese nachos), the pit was already filling up. The last band before the main acts finished up and most people left, so we ended up right behind the barrier which confined the DFers that had traveled longer distances than us to see the best band ever.
Thursday: The day started on a dark note, because our mother wouldn't let us use the GPS - she had to pick our grandma at the train station in Windsor (because Windsor is so far away and difficult to find), and she threw a big stink about us supposedly getting lost because I'm a female and I can't use instructions printed off the Internet. BECAUSE YOU'LL GET LOST IF YOU FOLLOW ROAD SIGNS. ROAD SIGNS THAT TELL YOU WHERE TO GO.
Shelby had a half-day at school, so Abby and I ran errands for the morning (and by "errands," I mean fucking around at the grocery store for an hour and spending $52 on groceries for the trip because SOMEONE told me that Milwaukee isn't a veg-friendly city, even though it totally is), and were totally geeked by the time 11:00 rolled around. We had Toshi thumping some freaky music via awesome cassette adapter. We stopped for snacks in South Lyon (WARHEADS, BITCH!) and then resumed our Jeffree Star dance party all the way to the middle of nowhere southwestern Michigan.
Along I-94, near the Indiana border, we saw many a raunchy sex shop, which was perfectly amusing to us. Also entertaining was the "Michigan agriculture grows for you!" billboard.
In Soviet Russia, your Maserati is a face!
We stopped again in Indiana at (my favorite) a Pilot truck stop for gas and a lunch of soy ham and Muenster sandwiches, which is where we saw this:
Periscope Jeep!
Back on the road, approaching Chicago, we switched from random music dance party to Kill Hannah dance party, which we grew weary of after NEARLY TWO FUCKING HOURS OF TRAFFIC! I swear that everything that came out of my mouth from the outskirts of Chicago to the Wisconsin border was "FUCK!"
We finally got to Wisconsin, and to Katie's shortly after; around 6:30 central time. We unloaded our stuff and piled back into the car for a journey to Pick 'n' Save, the local grocery store, which must always be spoken with a redneck accent. Then we ventured to Cheng Wong, the best Chinese place known to man, except for the fact that they don't serve tofu. Shelby and I both ordered the mixed vegetables with brown sauce (!), and Abby settled on the chicken with Chinese vegetables, which she describes as "bleh. The chicken was rubbery."
Next came Kopp's Frozen Custard (!), which is the closest thing to God that exists on this planet. The place is a simple building as you pull up, but the entrance around the side is completely glass with a sanctuary-esque waterfall (AKA babbling brook) park close by. Since the place was absolutely packed, we decided to take a seat on a myriad of stacked logs near the street, which offered some riotous humor and non-comfort. I wept about forgetting I Heard a Voice in my DVD player and forgetting the vegan ice cream in Abby's freezer the whole time. I'm still scarred.
When we got back to Katie's, her girlfriend Lacey went to take the garbage out and got attacked by a giant raccoon that was hiding in the dumpster. We played on the swing set for a while, until I almost met my demise in slippery mud, and Katie almost totally ate it on her skateboard. When we went inside, we hung out and learned how not to attempt crime in Milwaukee county: DO NOT STEAL SEWER GRATES. Oh, and we all wept about the passing of Rue McClanahan (why is the world unfair?! She was my favorite Golden Girl!), before drifting off into Blaqk Audio-induced sleep.
Friday: We were all early to rise on Friday morning due to the time change and the presence of the maintenance man fixing the light in Katie's kitchen. While waiting for said maintenance man, we had the radio tuned to 102.1, Milwaukee's alternative station, waiting for the Davey Havok that we were promised the night before. It was kinda lame; they kept pronouncing Havok, "Hav-OK." But it was still nice to hear his sleep-laden voice early in the morning. And I'm a creeper.
We mostly lazed around all day, since Katie was at work and Lacey was lost somewhere in Hales Corners on her bike. At around 2 PM, we all decided that we needed to fancy ourselves up for VergeFest (which was the following day!!), so we walked to Pick 'n' Save while trying to find a Walgreens, which was right in front of Pick 'n' Save, but we didn't notice, even after we walked right through the friggin' parking lot. At first, we ended up walking the wrong way and passing The Olde Store (not kidding), which had an awesome garbage can:
And My Father's Mustache (also not kidding). After we left Pick 'n' Save to go to the Hallmark Store, looking for a heart-shaped hole puncher to give Abby a Crash heart manicure for the show. They didn't have one.
And My Father's Mustache (also not kidding). After we left Pick 'n' Save to go to the Hallmark Store, looking for a heart-shaped hole puncher to give Abby a Crash heart manicure for the show. They didn't have one.
Then we went to Blockbuster, thinking that just maybe there was a small chance that they would have a copy of I Heard a Voice, since Milwaukee is a hotbed of AFI fans and a cult town. They didn't have one.
When we got home, Lacey was playing video games, so we worked on our nails and waited for Katie to get home. After a dinner of barbecue soy sandwiches and cheese pizza, we drove down to the marina and hung out around by the art museum to listen to the distant sounds of the first day of VergeFest and play with sequin tacos. We also stopped for photo-ops, of course, when we weren't busy looking for the Bronze Fonz.
We headed back toward the pier to wait for Shelby's friend Amber, who never showed up thanks to bad planning on the parts of both parties. Katie and Lacey played catch, and Katie got hit in the knee with a baseball. We also found the best boat in existence:
On the way home from the lake, we blasted some rap guys out with Gaga, and when we finally got there, we were all tired enough to go straight to bed. After all, we had a big day coming up (!).
Saturday: The day of VergeFest was upon us, and after months of planning this trip, The Freaks were finally going to reach our goal. Except we ended up leaving late, which wasn't a bad thing, and Lacey stayed home. And it rained. And Weezer fans suck. And the set was really short. And the pit was terrible. But other than that, survey says: TOTALLY WORTH IT.
Festival started at 2 PM, but we didn't leave the house until around 2:15. We had to stop at Walgreens, after we finally knew where it was, to get a silver sharpie, just in case. We ended up using it to immortalize AFI on a bathroom stall door. Oops. It looked something like this:
Except the bathroom stall doors were not lined note pads.
I was stuck driving (ugh) because Katie decided to chug the majority of a serving of liver poison before we left. When we got to the venue, we dodged scalpers and scoped out the place, which was really big, so the stages were really separated and you could barely hear the other bands that were playing at the same time. We sat by the lake for a while and then headed over by the skate demo (which got rained out) for a while before we spotted the playground. We spent a good hour there.
Our original plan was to get over to the main stage at 6 PM, but after we ate at 4 (the only thing Shelby and I could have were a disgusting variety of cheese nachos), the pit was already filling up. The last band before the main acts finished up and most people left, so we ended up right behind the barrier which confined the DFers that had traveled longer distances than us to see the best band ever.
The first band was The Ravenettes, who were pretty good. They were the only band that played the main stage with a girl in their lineup. And she could fucking shred. But we didn't really pay attention to their set, thanks to Davey Havok and Adam Carson's attendance on the balcony. They were also watching the set. Davey had on the brightest pink shirt I think I've ever seen. Oh, and Weezer was up there too, but we don't talk about them.
After The Ravenettes departed, so did Davey and Adam. One of the stage guys was wearing a fedora and had a beard, and we speculated whether or not it was Smith Puget (it wasn't), and we also were privy to the Terrorist Salesman, as Katie called him, because of his completely mingin' beard and uniform grey suit. The next band was Cold War Kids, who were some kind of funky dance alt rock thing (?). They caused stupid ho-bag bitches to try to mosh/dance. One of them was griding on Katie, because apparently she looks like a guy from behind. A really short, feminine guy. Said ho-bag bitches were taken away by security soon after, causing our crowd-family to erupt into cheers. Davey, or at least we think it was Davey, made another surprise appearance on the balcony during the set. Overall, Cold War Kids were okay, but nothing beats what came next.
With the first appearance of Reno (AFI's drum tech, who looks remarkably like Hunter Burgan), the rain began to fall harder. When Smith came out, we started getting smashed together like soy fibers in a Boca burger (vegetarian similes. WHAT.). The biggest surprise of the moment was that Smith had trimmed his beard down to normal, less-refrigerator-y capacity, and he wasn't wearing a fedora. Weezer fans decided to trash AFI before they even started performing, but by the time Adam hit the stage (he was the first one out), The Freaks were in our own, blissful world where Weezer fan douches don't exist. Next followed Jade Puget with the opening chords of "Medicate," and it all went uphill (and downhill) from there.
Here's the set list:
"Medicate"
"Girls Not Grey"
"The Leaving Song, part 2"
"I am Trying Very Hard to be Here"
"Kill Caustic"
"End Transmission"
"Beautiful Thieves"
"Dancing through Sunday"
"Perfect Fit"
"Love is a Many Splendored Thing"
"Veronica Sawyer Smokes"
"Love like Winter"
"The Days of the Phoenix"
"Silver and Cold"
"Miss Murder"
During "Girls Not Grey," Davey almost decapitated Smith with his mic cord. In the middle of "The Leaving Song, part 2," Jade smashed himself in the face with his own guitar. These are typical antics. The A-typical antics happened when I was the only one fighting to "Kill Caustic," and everyone got the memo really late and started fighting to "End Transmission." Durp.
I freaked out for "Beautiful Thieves," I fought some more to "Dancing through Sunday," (which was when the real shit started to happen), Davey went down in front of the barrier on the other side of the stage from our location during "Perfect Fit."
Again, I was the only one fighting to "Love is a Many Splendored Thing." Come on people, the main lyric of that song is, "I HATE YOU!" How do you not fight?
Ben Grey, the lead singer of usual AFI opener Scarlet Grey, joined Davey in the singing of "Love like Winter," but none of us were really paying attention due to douchebags singing the wrong words, crowdsurfers (Jesus Christ, Crowdsurfing Sucks!), and getting separated by the pit monster. Katie got pushed into the DFers (in front of Hunter), who were pissed about the goings-on of the night (especially the rain, which was getting worse, and the wind was picking up. We actually exhaled vanilla lace at an AFI show.). Abby ended up in front of Davey, two rows from the barrier. Shelby and I got sucked back out of the pit and toward other DFers who had been avoiding the whole area. The last three songs were bittersweet, as we won't be seeing AFI again until August, on our home turf in Clarkston. Everybody do the Pine Knob dance!
After the show was over, we all knew that there was no chance that we were staying for Weezer, which is good, because the DFers at the show said that they sucked. Apparently the lead singer was totally trashed and forgot the words of their own songs, and they did some fucked up Gaga cover. Ugh. We stopped at the merch table (where Fritch wasn't) and Abby snagged a tee and Shelby and I got a poster which stares out into the hallway from Shelby's room and creeps everyone out.
When we got home, Lacey nursed Katie back to health. I guess someone jammed her hip into the barrier when everything got fucked. This was Katie's first concert, by the way. We all stripped out of our wet clothing and restored our voices with post-show vegan hot dogs. We tossed our wet clothes in the dryer in the basement, which reminded us of Hunter's creep-tastic video in the bonus features of I Heard a Voice/the secret beginning of the "Love like Winter" video. Which isn't a secret. My driver's license and Shelby's Hot Topic card got dried, along with our VergeFest tickets, which were lame and on receipt paper anyway. After the clothes were done, we did some more AFI-induced sleeping to prepare for our journey home the next day.
Sunday: Sunday morning pretty much consisted of scramble-packing and clean-up, followed by our last trip to Pick 'n' Save, gas for Toshi, and hitting the road. This time, we went around Chicago, even though the tolls can kiss my ass. We partied to AFI, Blaqk Audio, and Hunter Revenge for a vast majority of the time before a sleepy Shelby requested Paramore at the Indiana border. The drive was uneventful until the Michigan border, where we snacked on the remainder of our vegan hot dogs and complained about how much we hated being home. After Gaga in Paw Paw for gas, we grew weary of the highway, so we took the back roads home from Whitmore Lake. It rained most of the way home. When we unpacked, we realized that Abby's Chinese had leaked all over the cooler, and the ice water was now chunky with Chinese veggies. Vomit.
The end...for now.
Monday, 31 May 2010
Freaks are Your Friends
Over the years, the word "freak" has obtained a negative connotation. But I am here to tell you that freaks are your friends. Similarly, friends don't let friends see Sex and the City 2. Today, Shelby and I discovered this the hard way - by discovering it. Prepare for a long, dragged out, public service blog post.
First, a culture crash note. Er, another culture crash note. I'm watching Jackass on MTV2, and they just showed a commercial for some Zantrex 3 diet pill with two people who have obviously never been overweight in their lives. And they're naked. Because that will totally sell your product to people who want to look like naked, oversexed models, even though said product is detrimental to the users' health.
Anyway, back on track. Even though I may try to displace my natural born stars, the whole Cancer influence will never go away (yes, I'm an astrology nerd - kiss my ass) - I'll always be a hopeless romantic who is continually barking up the wrong tree. When I was young and stupid, I believed that there was that one special someone for everyone except me. Until I saw the famed HBO series Sex and the City. It was fate. Carrie Bradshaw was an inspiration to girls like me (despite sharing a name) - fashion forward, sassy, literary, but always lacking in love.
I spent 147 minutes in a movie theater this evening trying to figure out how I could ever have identified with Carrie.
It was, I suppose, bad enough when the sexist antics occurred in New York City. But the sequel to the blockbuster smash moved the douchebaggery to the United Arab Emirates. Because Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte are sou cultured.
The first scene of the movie pissed me off by taking multiple stabs at gays; the setting, of course, being a gay wedding. Guess who married Stan and Anthony? Liza fucking Minelli. By the power vested in her by...Broadway? And every gay male character ever portrayed in Sex and the City is an expert on fashion and interior design, speaks with a lisp, and is a fan of eighties chick pop. What the hell? Oh yeah, and Charlotte's nanny? She never had to worry about her husband cheating with the nanny because (NO WAY) she's a lesbian! The horrors! The best part: the nanny is a hippie lesbian who NEVER wears a bra.
The most disturbing to me, however, was the fact that the whole movie (if you couldn't guess from the title) revolves around sex. Sex, by all means, isn't a bad thing. Hell, I think it's fantastic. But that's all well and good in New York City, center of a culture that is enthralled with sex. In Abu Dhabi, however, where the religion is Islam and sex is a means of reproduction and nothing more; in a place where sex for pleasure is taboo and unholy, sex DOES NOT belong. Thank goodness for Miranda - at least one character had the common sense to attempt to learn about the culture of the Middle East (and out of respect to her host country on her ALL EXPENSES PAID vacation, conforms to those cultural norms) before blindly traveling to what is quite literally a different world.
After the movie, my mom goes, "I liked it," her usual movie crit opening. My only response was this:
"Did that movie have a plot?" And upon further reflection, yes, there was a plot. In a nutshell:
The women of New York City are liberated, and women all over the world should be liberated as well. They shouldn't have to be subservient, they should have their own voice instead of the voice of their husband, they shouldn't have to wear a birka (but instead should wear Dior, Versace, and other superfluous designers, who show the true worth of a woman), and should be able to fuck whoever they want whenever they want, just like the women of New York City (which is far superior to anywhere else in the world).
And they're going to take 147 minutes to demonstrate this plot, which actually paints all of Islamic culture in a bad light, just like Americans want to see it. And, they're going to do it with guest appearances by Liza Minelli and Miley Cyrus, and *GASP* the return of Aiden and Smith. "Word" (direct quote from Samantha from the movie. Not kidding).
Overall, two heartily and absolutely enthusiastic thumbs down. Actually learn about and experience a culture before you go around intentionally trashing it based on what you see in the media. That goes for gay culture too.
Be a friend, and don't let your friends see Sex and the City 2. Even if, by some dysfunctional stretch of the imagination, you do identify with Carrie Bradshaw. Just let us know how the crash was when it's over.
First, a culture crash note. Er, another culture crash note. I'm watching Jackass on MTV2, and they just showed a commercial for some Zantrex 3 diet pill with two people who have obviously never been overweight in their lives. And they're naked. Because that will totally sell your product to people who want to look like naked, oversexed models, even though said product is detrimental to the users' health.
Anyway, back on track. Even though I may try to displace my natural born stars, the whole Cancer influence will never go away (yes, I'm an astrology nerd - kiss my ass) - I'll always be a hopeless romantic who is continually barking up the wrong tree. When I was young and stupid, I believed that there was that one special someone for everyone except me. Until I saw the famed HBO series Sex and the City. It was fate. Carrie Bradshaw was an inspiration to girls like me (despite sharing a name) - fashion forward, sassy, literary, but always lacking in love.
I spent 147 minutes in a movie theater this evening trying to figure out how I could ever have identified with Carrie.
It was, I suppose, bad enough when the sexist antics occurred in New York City. But the sequel to the blockbuster smash moved the douchebaggery to the United Arab Emirates. Because Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte are sou cultured.
The first scene of the movie pissed me off by taking multiple stabs at gays; the setting, of course, being a gay wedding. Guess who married Stan and Anthony? Liza fucking Minelli. By the power vested in her by...Broadway? And every gay male character ever portrayed in Sex and the City is an expert on fashion and interior design, speaks with a lisp, and is a fan of eighties chick pop. What the hell? Oh yeah, and Charlotte's nanny? She never had to worry about her husband cheating with the nanny because (NO WAY) she's a lesbian! The horrors! The best part: the nanny is a hippie lesbian who NEVER wears a bra.
The most disturbing to me, however, was the fact that the whole movie (if you couldn't guess from the title) revolves around sex. Sex, by all means, isn't a bad thing. Hell, I think it's fantastic. But that's all well and good in New York City, center of a culture that is enthralled with sex. In Abu Dhabi, however, where the religion is Islam and sex is a means of reproduction and nothing more; in a place where sex for pleasure is taboo and unholy, sex DOES NOT belong. Thank goodness for Miranda - at least one character had the common sense to attempt to learn about the culture of the Middle East (and out of respect to her host country on her ALL EXPENSES PAID vacation, conforms to those cultural norms) before blindly traveling to what is quite literally a different world.
After the movie, my mom goes, "I liked it," her usual movie crit opening. My only response was this:
"Did that movie have a plot?" And upon further reflection, yes, there was a plot. In a nutshell:
The women of New York City are liberated, and women all over the world should be liberated as well. They shouldn't have to be subservient, they should have their own voice instead of the voice of their husband, they shouldn't have to wear a birka (but instead should wear Dior, Versace, and other superfluous designers, who show the true worth of a woman), and should be able to fuck whoever they want whenever they want, just like the women of New York City (which is far superior to anywhere else in the world).
And they're going to take 147 minutes to demonstrate this plot, which actually paints all of Islamic culture in a bad light, just like Americans want to see it. And, they're going to do it with guest appearances by Liza Minelli and Miley Cyrus, and *GASP* the return of Aiden and Smith. "Word" (direct quote from Samantha from the movie. Not kidding).
Overall, two heartily and absolutely enthusiastic thumbs down. Actually learn about and experience a culture before you go around intentionally trashing it based on what you see in the media. That goes for gay culture too.
Be a friend, and don't let your friends see Sex and the City 2. Even if, by some dysfunctional stretch of the imagination, you do identify with Carrie Bradshaw. Just let us know how the crash was when it's over.
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
Outlaw Freaks
I feel we've been lacking off in our posting of the crazy mishaps of Freakdom, but I promise you, there's a big event coming soon, so don't fret, non-readers.
For now, here's a little fable to tide you over: Saturday night/the wee hours of Sunday morning, the Freaks were almost caught trespassing in a cemetery, which would have broken Brighton city ordinances. Oops.
The moral of the story: make sure there are no cops on foot patrol at the Mill Pond when you break into the Old Village Cemetery (even though the gate was unlocked).
For now, here's a little fable to tide you over: Saturday night/the wee hours of Sunday morning, the Freaks were almost caught trespassing in a cemetery, which would have broken Brighton city ordinances. Oops.
The moral of the story: make sure there are no cops on foot patrol at the Mill Pond when you break into the Old Village Cemetery (even though the gate was unlocked).
Thursday, 20 May 2010
You Might be in Howell if...
while on your way to the county recycle center, you see a handicapped guy driving down Grand River in a minivan with hydraulics. No joke.
Monday, 17 May 2010
A Second Helping of Ukulele and the Truth about Twilight
Hello fellow outcasts! This past weekend, the Freaks decided to kick it on our own turf, so we could bring you the best of the worst of Livingston at its finest. We began it on Friday, when Abby and I decided to celebrate the birth of our favorite bassist with vegan goodies (Happy Belated Birthday, Hunter!), and were also persuaded to purchase a key lime pie, which went well with the viewing of one of our favorite movies, Forrest Gump. Saturday was filled with AFI Chronicles and Super Smash Brothers Brawl, but the real magic happened on Sunday.
Each year, Brighton Area Schools hosts an art festival, displaying the best art work of students first through twelfth grade. As art fans, we generally frequent the art show, and this year was no exception. Fine young talent was on display, as usual, showcasing the wonderful arts program at Brighton High School (which, unfortunately is one of the first programs cut when the budget gets needy - along with the drama program, of course). Much to my dismay, however, most of the artists showcased were female, and I've been noticing this trend over the past few years. Being female myself, I think it's wonderful that we get respect where respect is due. But come on! I swear, I only saw two displays dedicated to male artists (that weren't graphics displays). We stayed, admiring the art for a while, until things got dicey - we narrowly escaped without being noticed by the notorious Mrs. Peters, our most hated teacher throughout our high school careers.
After the art show, we made a trip to Downtown Howell to see what was hip-happening down yonder. The central parking lot is under construction, so parking was a bit unusual, but we found a spot by the courthouse, where some unfortunate Howell High School senior was getting his senior pictures taken. Inconsequential, since he was obviously a douche, but I couldn't help but admire the photographer's pro-series Cannon. I long for my photography days.
Anyhoodles, we decided to visit our favorite upscale consignment shop, Le Boutique, because we firmly believe that one man's trash is another freak's treasure. None of us had any legitimate money, but most of our shopping excursions lead to shenanigans anyway. After coming across some not-so-friendly patrons of said consignment boutique, we wowed each other with bad fashion (like usual), tried on shoes that mooed, just for the fun of it, and then went on to Dairy Queen to get our ice cream on.
Outside the Dairy Queen, we came across a street performer with a myriad of instruments tossed carelessly into his bicycle wagon. Among these instruments was a ukulele (again with the ukulele?! Come on people, this is Michigan, not Hawaii!), a banjo, a guitar, and some sort of keyboard thing. Inside the Dairy Queen, we came across a rude server who didn't even know what a brownie bottom sundae was. Can you imagine that? Shelby and I settled for brownie Blizzards, while Abby got some funky concoction with whipped cream, oreos, a brownie, and fudge. And ice cream, of course. While om nom nom-ing, we people-watched (one of our favorite past-times), and saw whores and douches, kids, old people, and a strange couple wearing cowboy hats sitting on a bench in front of whatever shop is next door to Dairy Queen. I think it's either a travel agency or a law firm, I don't remember. Then, as we left, a group of girls decided to stare at us like they were intimidating, but obviously nothing scares us. Besides ukulele man.
I have to reiterate this: HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT A BROWNIE BOTTOM SUNDAE IS? IT'S A SUNDAE WITH A BROWNIE ON THE BOTTOM. ADAM CARSON IS VERY ASHAMED. That is all.
After the whole Dairy Queen debacle, we went off to Kroger to get birthday cards for yet another Sometimes Freak, Abby's sister Katie, who lives in Milwaukee and will be twenty-one on May 22.
When we got home, Shelby went to take a nap, while Peanut and I made some headway on our OVER 9000 Rummy Game. Soon after, Ansley, the Freaky Protege, came home from her friend's house with a copy of Twilight in her hand. Which brings me to my next point:
TWILIGHT IS THE WORST BOOK EVER. And if you agree, you must find out the truth about Twilight from Mark (AKA PanasonicYouth), staff writer at Buzznet.com/DF staff member/hilarious guy/my hero. I promise:
1. You will laugh
2. You might vomit
3. You will be in pain
4. You might even cry
So please, do yourself a favor and read Mark Reads Twilight (So You Don't Have To). Even if you already read Twilight, read Mark's version anyway. It's infinitesimally better.
Oh, and then, there's this,
but that's just a bit of trivial nonsense.
Friday, 7 May 2010
Ah, yes. Exec Week at BHS. I will never miss you.
Exec Week: when all the people on exec bored act like douches so people think they're cool and vote for them. But, everyone knows, once you put cool in front of something, it's not cool anymore. Unless it's cool with a "K" according to Shake-man-zilla-of-many-men.
The teams that are voting this year are, Team Zealous "over zealous, no such thing." and Poise (isn't that a magazine?) they don't have a catch fraze, unless you count, "VOTE FOR POISE!!!"
Of course, I think they're both Nazi's, but that's just me.
-S
Exec Week: when all the people on exec bored act like douches so people think they're cool and vote for them. But, everyone knows, once you put cool in front of something, it's not cool anymore. Unless it's cool with a "K" according to Shake-man-zilla-of-many-men.
The teams that are voting this year are, Team Zealous "over zealous, no such thing." and Poise (isn't that a magazine?) they don't have a catch fraze, unless you count, "VOTE FOR POISE!!!"
Of course, I think they're both Nazi's, but that's just me.
-S
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Stay in Your Own Lane, or Things Could Get Ugly
Greetings and Salutations, freaks! I have been severely lacking in my updating, and I sincerely apologize to all of our pretend readers. We love you guys. Anyhoodles (now I sound like Shelby), I have a dare for you:
Ask anyone about the worst thing that could happen while bowling. They will almost undoubtedly say that the worst thing would be to bowl a gutter.
Now ask a freak. We will reply in the same manner, but with a freaky twist: The worst thing that could possibly happen while bowling is to get a gutter...in a lane besides your own. Granted, this has never happened to one of us, but Abby and I witnessed this disturbing phenomenon on Monday night.
Abby, her mom, and I were at Brighton Bowl getting our balls on by playing dollar games this Monday night. The lane next to us was vacant for our first game, but halfway through the second, a troop of miscreet-like douche-bags took over. They turned out actually to be quite entertaining.
At first, said douches were trying to be showoffs. They practically bounced the bowling balls down the lane, and it proved effective, or at least until the leader of them, Craig, bounced a ball into the gutter, but then, as if it were magnetized, the ball jumped up over the barrier between lanes, and rolled down our gutter, and into the arm on our lane. It was HI-larious. I'm pretty sure everyone in the entire alley saw, and most of them were laughing.
The mishap messed up my frame, as I was the next to bowl, but re-doing the frame was superfluous, as the outcome was the same each time. The guy, Craig, apologized, but I just laughed.
So, what happens when you don't stay where you belong? Things get ugly.
The most normal thing about us freaks is that we are eighties-style mall rats. We go to the mall almost every weekend, whether it be The Green Oak Mall, The Brighton Mall, or The Twelve Oaks Mall. But no matter which mall we're at, we like to play a game called, "How out of place can we feel?", a delightfully fun social experiment. And from this experiment bred another: "Which store has the ugliest fashion?"
It all started one day when I was cleaning out my closet. I pulled out some hideous eighties bridesmaid dresses that I keep around for shits and giggles (also, I'm a half-assed seamstress, and maybe one day, I'll make something of them, but for now, they just sit in my overstuffed closet and collect horror stories). Shelby decided that it would be hilarious if she tried them on and we put them on the blog. This eventually led to scouring the malls for similarly ugly dresses, photographing their unholiness, and putting them right here in The Hole for you all to revel in.
This is just the beginning.
Shelby, in a ravishing red, walking like an Egyptian, and giving birth to the Freaks' biggest scheme to date.
Me, getting in on the action.
I started out as designated photographer, but couldn't resist this one-shouldered monstrosity.
Abby, looking like a waitress.
From this point forward, we weren't just looking for the ugly ones. No dress is safe from the freaks!
Our Freaky Protege, Ansley, has been in on it since the beginning.
Surprisingly, she's the most versatile of freaks: she fits in both girls' and ladies' sizes.
Sometimes, even the Sometimes Freaks got sucked in.
Danielle, looking as if she'd been attacked by an orange monster.
Emily, rocking the hippie look.
Even the demon child got caught up in the fashion fever.
There are plenty more where those came from, and if we could ever get our Flickr to work, we'd share them with you! Links to come, trust.
And now, I must saunter off to bed, for I must work my low-paying job early tomorrow. Until next time, if you can't beat 'em, scare the piss out of 'em.
In Memoriam
Hello fellow Hole in the Road-ers, today we gather for a sad occasion. Our good friend, Pole Shoe, has disappeared. I made this tragic discover a few weeks ago, while at Target with my mom. Out of habit, I looked over at the pole our friend usually occupies, but it was empty, as were all the other poles in the parking lot. One can only imagine where pole shoe is now, maybe he's in a garbage dump, maybe he's in the middle of a busy street, or worse, maybe he's actually being worn by some gross little kid. Either way, we must remember Pole Shoe the way he was, not the way he might be now. And now, I would like us all to take a moment of silence in honor of our friend.
We will miss you, Pole Shoe.
Friday, 23 April 2010
Bio musings, so fun.
I hate teenage drama. And, I have nothing to do. The girl next to me keeps reading my blog, and I'm not sure about this blog yet. Let's find out, shall we?
The stench of my hair is giving me a headache, but, this blog is not about me. If you wanna read about me, and all of me Glory- wait, what was I talking about? Oh, right teenage drama, right.
It's spring here in Brighton, and high school drama is blooming faster then my boredom in this class. Yeah, that's how fast the drama train moves people! More later.
I hate teenage drama. And, I have nothing to do. The girl next to me keeps reading my blog, and I'm not sure about this blog yet. Let's find out, shall we?
The stench of my hair is giving me a headache, but, this blog is not about me. If you wanna read about me, and all of me Glory- wait, what was I talking about? Oh, right teenage drama, right.
It's spring here in Brighton, and high school drama is blooming faster then my boredom in this class. Yeah, that's how fast the drama train moves people! More later.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Why hello thar!
Hello indeed. It's been what? 3 weeks, more? Anyway in those three weeks a lot of shit has happened to the freaks, for instance, ugly dress trying on-ness and, Superman! The best waiter ever!
Okay, so Superman works at this Greek resonant, I don't remember the name right now. I'm used to calling in 'The Greek Place.' Anyhoodles, we were going out to dinner (me and Kari) and our protege Shake Man Zilla of Many Mens, or you Earthlings might know her as Ansley.
But, anyway, Superman was going to get me a Mellow Yellow, or Mountain Dew knock off, and returned in like 1.5 seconds. Shake was all, "Woah! That was super fast! You're like Superman!"
Thus the name Superman.
Superman got a note from us freaks, and I hope a big tip. I mean, he did deserve it, he had to put up with us freaks!
The freaks need a slogan.... Eat it, like it, live it, and stick it in other peoples faces!
That sounds dirty....
Right.... Thanks Superman!
-S
Hello indeed. It's been what? 3 weeks, more? Anyway in those three weeks a lot of shit has happened to the freaks, for instance, ugly dress trying on-ness and, Superman! The best waiter ever!
Okay, so Superman works at this Greek resonant, I don't remember the name right now. I'm used to calling in 'The Greek Place.' Anyhoodles, we were going out to dinner (me and Kari) and our protege Shake Man Zilla of Many Mens, or you Earthlings might know her as Ansley.
But, anyway, Superman was going to get me a Mellow Yellow, or Mountain Dew knock off, and returned in like 1.5 seconds. Shake was all, "Woah! That was super fast! You're like Superman!"
Thus the name Superman.
Superman got a note from us freaks, and I hope a big tip. I mean, he did deserve it, he had to put up with us freaks!
The freaks need a slogan.... Eat it, like it, live it, and stick it in other peoples faces!
That sounds dirty....
Right.... Thanks Superman!
-S
Monday, 8 March 2010
Hello fellow non-readers. So, I turned Mudracker today, even though I didn't have to try very hard, but my efforts payed off. So, BHS (brighton High School) is doing this thing called Day of Silence. Maybe, I'll post a picture of this poster that I picked up. It says;
Day of Silence is a national youth-run campaign to
protest the silencing of gay, lesbian, bisexual,
and transgendered people all over the world by being silent for an entire day.
Join the movement.
I honestly think it's the best thing sense sliced bread. And, to answer any of your dumb ass questions, yes, I'm bi. If you have a problem with people who check out girls AND guys, being straight is so 1900's (no offence Peanut and Karrol, or anyone else).
Sorry, I'm just alittle tired today, but for shiz, if you have a problem with it I'll pull a Jeffree Star and pull out a random trazer on you. *insert random dude here* don't taze me bro....
Anyhoodles, if you want to join the movement, the Day of Silence is April 16. I don't know if it'll move this year. I'm gonna go ahead and say you don't have to go to BHS, but, do it for that gay best friend you've always wanted, or that chick who forgot to turn off the light while she was banging her girlfriend (you perv. Get help for that, they have Perverts Anonymous), or your sister, or brother, or who ever, it's not like any ones asking you to eat your first born, or give an alcholic part of your liver.
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Why are we looking for him, again?
Two posts in one day?! And within less than 2 hours of each other?! This is surely some kind of Hole in the Road record!!! Lets celebrate with fruit snacks!
Any-who's, time for my story. Since I have no job and I'm not going to school at the moment, I pretty much sit around all day doing whatever. And today, "whatever" included watching AFI tour videos, lol-ing at Smith's antics, being perplexed by Davey's makeup choices, and "Ohs furoobita!"-ing* Hunter. Just then, I happened to look out the window and see two cute blonde boys walking down my scary, steep driveway.
Normally, I don't go after blondes, I much prefer brunettes, but these guys were cute. One of them had emo glasses and long-ish hair and the other had shorter hair and freckles and both of them were wearing spiffy looking black jackets. All in all, not the best guys I have ever seen, but pretty damn good.
They both looked sort of confused, so I figured they were lost or something like that. So I answered the door ready to dazzle them with my know-how of Brighton roads, and maybe leave a good impression and get a phone number. But the second I opened the door, I realized that these guys weren't lost, but on one of the most annoying missions of all: door-to-door Bible thumping.
"Have you found Jesus Christ?", says the short-haired, freckled boy. Normally, my response to that question would be "YOU LOST HIM?!?!", but for some reason, all I could find myself saying was "...Uh..." Thankfully, neither of them were too preachy. They just gave me a little pamphlet and were gone in less than 5 minutes.
I went back to watching AFI, slightly sad, slightly amused. Unfortunately, in Brighton, this kind of occurrence isn't too rare. I swear, there are more Bible-thumpers in Brighton than there are trees and most of them aren't quick to the point like the blondes. They drag it out for as long as they can, hoping that eventually your resolve will weaken and you'll do whatever they want. The worst ones are the ones that act like care about you and insist that you can be "saved" only if you join such-and-such a church. Saved from what? Is Slender Man after me?
Also, on an only slightly related note, if I ever get a dog of my own I kinda want to name him Jesus Christ. That way, if he ever runs away, I can go to all my neighbor's houses and ask them "Have you found Jesus Christ?!", and the first one to answer with "YOU LOST HIM?!" gets a prize. More likely than not, though, I'll end up naming my dog Sirius or something else nerd-like.
That is all for today, unless Joo decides to post something to keep the streak going. YOU CAN DO IT!!
~Peanut
*"Ohs furoobita" is how Sims express attraction to another Sim in the Sims 2. Yes, that means I like Hunter, YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!?!
Any-who's, time for my story. Since I have no job and I'm not going to school at the moment, I pretty much sit around all day doing whatever. And today, "whatever" included watching AFI tour videos, lol-ing at Smith's antics, being perplexed by Davey's makeup choices, and "Ohs furoobita!"-ing* Hunter. Just then, I happened to look out the window and see two cute blonde boys walking down my scary, steep driveway.
Normally, I don't go after blondes, I much prefer brunettes, but these guys were cute. One of them had emo glasses and long-ish hair and the other had shorter hair and freckles and both of them were wearing spiffy looking black jackets. All in all, not the best guys I have ever seen, but pretty damn good.
They both looked sort of confused, so I figured they were lost or something like that. So I answered the door ready to dazzle them with my know-how of Brighton roads, and maybe leave a good impression and get a phone number. But the second I opened the door, I realized that these guys weren't lost, but on one of the most annoying missions of all: door-to-door Bible thumping.
"Have you found Jesus Christ?", says the short-haired, freckled boy. Normally, my response to that question would be "YOU LOST HIM?!?!", but for some reason, all I could find myself saying was "...Uh..." Thankfully, neither of them were too preachy. They just gave me a little pamphlet and were gone in less than 5 minutes.
I went back to watching AFI, slightly sad, slightly amused. Unfortunately, in Brighton, this kind of occurrence isn't too rare. I swear, there are more Bible-thumpers in Brighton than there are trees and most of them aren't quick to the point like the blondes. They drag it out for as long as they can, hoping that eventually your resolve will weaken and you'll do whatever they want. The worst ones are the ones that act like care about you and insist that you can be "saved" only if you join such-and-such a church. Saved from what? Is Slender Man after me?
Also, on an only slightly related note, if I ever get a dog of my own I kinda want to name him Jesus Christ. That way, if he ever runs away, I can go to all my neighbor's houses and ask them "Have you found Jesus Christ?!", and the first one to answer with "YOU LOST HIM?!" gets a prize. More likely than not, though, I'll end up naming my dog Sirius or something else nerd-like.
That is all for today, unless Joo decides to post something to keep the streak going. YOU CAN DO IT!!
~Peanut
*"Ohs furoobita" is how Sims express attraction to another Sim in the Sims 2. Yes, that means I like Hunter, YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?!?!
Huzzah! Did I spell that right? I don't know, I almost spelled spell wrong. Woo, I'm tired. Anyway, I thought me and my three arm wounds should up date the county blog. Because, Freaks of Suburbia never die, even if no one reads about us. Anyhoodles, things at Brighton High are going smoothly, minus the Pinkney Freshman Face-Punch.
One of my friends punched this annoying Pinkney Freshman (okay, his name's Kyle, but I call him Pinkney Freshman, as you can see.) in the face, because he was like trying to take off my friends shirt, and my friend was like, "oh, no you didn't." And he punched him. I was sad because Kyle didn't have a shiner the next day.
Shit, I forgot what else I was going to inform our none-existing readers about. COME ON PEOPLE! EVERYONE LOVES FREAKS!
Bleh, other then me slamming my phone shut just now, in the middle of class none-the-less, nothing really important is happening anymore. Hm.... I think that's it, but wait and see what us freaks post next.
-S
One of my friends punched this annoying Pinkney Freshman (okay, his name's Kyle, but I call him Pinkney Freshman, as you can see.) in the face, because he was like trying to take off my friends shirt, and my friend was like, "oh, no you didn't." And he punched him. I was sad because Kyle didn't have a shiner the next day.
Shit, I forgot what else I was going to inform our none-existing readers about. COME ON PEOPLE! EVERYONE LOVES FREAKS!
Bleh, other then me slamming my phone shut just now, in the middle of class none-the-less, nothing really important is happening anymore. Hm.... I think that's it, but wait and see what us freaks post next.
-S
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Marshall's Law: No Chucks For Grown-Ups and Goat Purses
I have been a bad little Peanut, not posting on here as often as I said I would. But I have returned to tell all you little kiddies a story.
Today my mom and I went to Marshall's to return a rug. It's been a while since I've been there, but I always used to buy most of my clothes from there so I figured I might find something I liked. So after we returned the rug, we separated to do our own thing. While looking in the "The Cube", which is supposed to be the part of the store for the "hip" that replaced the perfectly good young women's section a few years ago, I noticed plain t-shirts that I spent all of high school searching for were pretty much everywhere. Of course, now I don't want plain t-shirts.
Escaping from the terror of "The Cube", I went to Joo's favorite part of the store: shoes. I bought a pair of Chucks there a few years ago, so I decided to look for a new pair. Unfortunately, the only pair that they had in women's sizes were brown, and I have a strange personal vendetta against brown shoes. The Chucks that I would actually consider wearing, black with red and light blue with white, where kid's sizes. Now I know how Joo and T-Bag feel when they put their average sized feet next to my minuscule size sixes. Yes, I actually tried some of them on. Shut up.
To drown my Chuck-less sorrow, I wandered around the rest of the store aimlessly. Then, in the purse section, I saw something that made my inner vegan cry: the goat purse. This thing literally looked and felt like a dead goat. The only reason I touched it was because I wanted to look at the label inside to see if it was real fur. I didn't need to look at the label, I know what goat fur feels like. The only thing that terrified me more than the purse itself was the thought that someone out there would actually use it. Those poor goats...
After finally leaving (all I got were some PJ's), we went to a Mediterranean restaurant called La Meena, or something along those lines. There I told my inner vegan to shut the hell up so I could om nom nom on some traditional Mediterranean chicken stir fry. While there, however, I was confronted with one of my biggest pet peeves; why do restaurants insist on giving you a crap load of food you don't even want before you can actually get the meal you ordered? I can barely eat the over sized plates they give you in the first place, but top that with all those tiny "appetizers" they force on you, I can hardly even take two bites of the dish I actually wanted! Why do they call them appetizers anyway? You don't get more hungry by eating more food! And of course, when we were done eating, the waitress glared at me for asking for a box to put my barely touched stir fry in. What do you expect after eating a salad and basket of bread you insisted on me getting? (I only ate a few bites of the salad, but seriously, who can resist the allure of warm bread?)
So, yeah, that's pretty much it for my complaining. Next time you see a goat, make sure that someone isn't planning on turning it into an ugly purse.
Today my mom and I went to Marshall's to return a rug. It's been a while since I've been there, but I always used to buy most of my clothes from there so I figured I might find something I liked. So after we returned the rug, we separated to do our own thing. While looking in the "The Cube", which is supposed to be the part of the store for the "hip" that replaced the perfectly good young women's section a few years ago, I noticed plain t-shirts that I spent all of high school searching for were pretty much everywhere. Of course, now I don't want plain t-shirts.
Escaping from the terror of "The Cube", I went to Joo's favorite part of the store: shoes. I bought a pair of Chucks there a few years ago, so I decided to look for a new pair. Unfortunately, the only pair that they had in women's sizes were brown, and I have a strange personal vendetta against brown shoes. The Chucks that I would actually consider wearing, black with red and light blue with white, where kid's sizes. Now I know how Joo and T-Bag feel when they put their average sized feet next to my minuscule size sixes. Yes, I actually tried some of them on. Shut up.
To drown my Chuck-less sorrow, I wandered around the rest of the store aimlessly. Then, in the purse section, I saw something that made my inner vegan cry: the goat purse. This thing literally looked and felt like a dead goat. The only reason I touched it was because I wanted to look at the label inside to see if it was real fur. I didn't need to look at the label, I know what goat fur feels like. The only thing that terrified me more than the purse itself was the thought that someone out there would actually use it. Those poor goats...
After finally leaving (all I got were some PJ's), we went to a Mediterranean restaurant called La Meena, or something along those lines. There I told my inner vegan to shut the hell up so I could om nom nom on some traditional Mediterranean chicken stir fry. While there, however, I was confronted with one of my biggest pet peeves; why do restaurants insist on giving you a crap load of food you don't even want before you can actually get the meal you ordered? I can barely eat the over sized plates they give you in the first place, but top that with all those tiny "appetizers" they force on you, I can hardly even take two bites of the dish I actually wanted! Why do they call them appetizers anyway? You don't get more hungry by eating more food! And of course, when we were done eating, the waitress glared at me for asking for a box to put my barely touched stir fry in. What do you expect after eating a salad and basket of bread you insisted on me getting? (I only ate a few bites of the salad, but seriously, who can resist the allure of warm bread?)
So, yeah, that's pretty much it for my complaining. Next time you see a goat, make sure that someone isn't planning on turning it into an ugly purse.
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