I didn't ask Amanda Palmer a question

OMG so, NOT FUNNY STORY.  The one hour that I do not have a facebook tab open, AMANDA PALMER (you know, the person that 100% inspired me to do EVERYTHING including SING and PLAY MUSIC and DREAM and BREATHE) post an "ask me anything!" on facebook and I missed it and she freaking ended it before i could jump on that!!! I am so beyond frustrated because I love her and ... URG!!! I cannot physically explain why I love her so much, because it doesn't make sense to ME. I never do the whole "starry eyed- star crazy" type thing. I'm never that person. But, hello Amanda Palmer!
ok. so that's not funny (unless you like my pain...  sadists....)
To make up for my rant here's a poem I wrote.
It's called "College"

College-
Do you want fat free,
Or free fat?



 Yeah that's it...


Here's another one.
It's called "Love"

Love-

I hate you

I wish you were dead

You deserve nothing but the worst

I hope you spontaneously burst into flames in your least favorite color.

Every breath you take should break a bone

You're a butt.

I hate you

But I will always love you more...

I write a lot of stupid poems...
I am working on a book though. It's a lot better than my poems too! (cue cheering) (not that it can get worse than my poems) It's about dreams. (and I'm writing one about teenage girls too. It's for my aunt and has a lot of humor in it. She has some pre-teens and I want to.... prepare her...)

That's all for now.
Sincerely
Amanda Palmer's #1 insane, poem writing, fan.

Merry Holidays and SHtuff

It's Christmas eve and I am very happy. We opened our gifts early and I got some really cool schtuff from my loving family. Among them were T.A.R.D.I.S slippers and Cards Against Humanity ( Mama learned A LOT from that game... oops... ) So much entertainment in one evening!!! Now I'm excited and sleepy and schizophrenic so I'm listening to The Dresden Dolls.   (<3 Amanda Palmer  (call me! ;)   ))  Wait... I toiletted my phone... Still not working by the way... It was for a bit but then ... PPbbtthh! nope. My poopy, toilety, ricey, phone will have to be replaced. F#@!#&(# !!! Merry Christmas to me I guess... I love ya all (ya know... all two of my readers) Don't die. Enjoy the holidays. Talk to strangers. Get hungover. Live life. Have fun with your family (HAHAHA!  .. whew... that was a good one)
Always
Q

My phone is burried in there...

Yup...

My poor phone!

I dropped my phone

As I am sitting down to ... ahem... #1.... My phone became fed up with my butt pocket (probably sat on too many hard surfaces or let loose too many... anyway..) She plunged right into the porcelain throne and promptly sunk to the bottom. It's ten thirty at night, I don't have time for my phones crap! So giving 0 f*cks, and almost on instinct, my hand follows the phone in to retrieve it. (EEEWWW!!) I fish the phone out and stare at it, not knowing what to do. My Phone Is Full Of Toilet Water! So I decide that the logical thing to do, since it's already water damaged, is to rinse it and my hands off in the sink.   ...   Because adding MORE water will fix the water problem! .. and I set it on the counter because I still have to go potty... my phone can wait. (sorry HTC, that's really how crummy your phones are.) Afterwards, I try to quietly find out container of rice... It took forever.
OK, LISTEN. our family does not do things normally. Our kitchen is rearranged more than the NFL stats. we can never find ANYTHING, even though the rearranging is supposed to make everything more efficient. Not only that, but we have like, 19,348,464,597 drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. so the rice can be almost ANYWHERE.
I'm telling you this because I have to quietly hunt down the rice in this labyrinth of cabinets and appliances, because my family has gone to bed. (yes, at ten thirty, don't judge!) After like, 7 minutes of searching, I find it! The rice! In one of the loudest-to-open containers ever made by the universe. When you open it, it lets loose a sound not unlike an eagle being slayed by the tin man. It is BAD. But I bear though to save my baby. I say to hell with using a reasonable amount of rice! Fill the bag to the t-o-p and save my cell!!!

then...



... I had a little accident...



RICE EVERYWHERE!

I never thought seeing rice fall in slow motion would be almost majestic, but it was. I was a movie hero silently screaming "NNNOOOOOO!!" as I watched the grains tumble towards the hardwood.
Ksshhh!
After five full minutes of 'face palming I zip my phone into it's grain filled sleeping bag and hunt for the broom. And it is in the same spot as always, giving me some peace of mind, some hope that me and my family CAN be normal someday far FAR into the future.
Thank you, broom. You give me hope.
Get well soon you gross toiletey ricey phone.

Tis the season

Those stupid repetitive Christmas commercials with their cheery voices and annoying music that interrupt music or Sponge Bob make me feel like "Ho - Ho - Homicide"

I took down my loft

So I packed up and am ready to head out to Oshkosh, and let me tell you, I have never seen the dorms this quiet. It's like a zombie apocalypse started and ended here, The kitchen is a wreck and there are intestines and empty shotgun shells littering the halls. (not really you weirdos) I had the beautiful opportunity to attempt to take my loft down by myself. (There were dudes that offered to help, but no way was I missing out on this masochistic fun!) Now the way the lofts are set up, you have those buttons that you push in to make that 'tearing apart' and 'not dying' easier, ya know? the kind you push in and they click into the holes. (I searched google but came up with no relevant results. Do they have a name???) Anyway, they are positioned on all four corners of the upper part of the loft and it is necessary to push BOTH in on one side WHILE lifting up, to get the lofty-bunk part off. and you need to do this three times (there are three holes) on each side. (totaling SIX, for all my less-academically successful readers.) Now, setting this up was cake! I had my family to help me. But take down,   whopped    my    ass .  I had to climb onto the bed beneath the loft and put one leg on the desk (or the window) to get the right leverage to lift it off. That took forever, and was exhausting. Not to mention I had to waddle on the mattress back and forth to each side of the bed to properly get it off. (you know how you can never 'walk' right on squishy things?) Now the fun's just starting my lovelies. Here's the kicker. The main event.  The moment I have been dreading to write, and you really want to hear about.
Getting the loft DOWN.
Don't get me wrong. It's not like 1000 lbs and I'm not exactly weak, but after the lifting part, that thing weighed A TON, and I was way to stubborn to ask for help. "A good leader asks for help, A great leader loves a challenge"- Me  I was feeling cocky and my lady testosterone levels were peaking, so Hell Yeah! I got this! But as I was lifting it down, my foot gets caught on the chord on the desk. I try to free myself and fling my freaking foot into a metal bar! I hit the nubby ankle bone! But I have to keep the loft up so I start growling and shouting like a fucking possessed gargoyle while shaking my head like a dog after a swim. Like that would help the pain! This goes on for AT LEAST ten seconds. That's not that long you say? Get a watch and growl for ten seconds. It lasts FOREVER!  Finally the pain subsides so it only feels like a baseball bat on my ankle instead of a jackhammer. And I happen to look up and see my CRUSH standing in the freaking doorway!!!!! Like what the hell did I do to deserve this??? THEY SAW THE WHOLE THING!!!! So eyes wide, mouth gaping and hands shaking, they slowly back away, making 'sleep talking' sounds. I have yet to see/ hear from them. I have blew every chance for a date that I have ever had EVER, and this is just another embarrassing, ugly, loud, drop in that bucket.
On the bright side I got the loft down.
Call me Hercules. :)
-Q

I made popcorn

So, funny story. While waiting for a lady to come check out my couch that I put on craigslist, (she's WAY late by the way anyone need a cheap couch? ) I decided to whip up some popcorn. But alas! The kitchen has a new powerful stainless steel microwave. (it WAS so clean!) But I was unaccustomed to such a mighty cooking machine and I REALLY wanted that popcorn, so I tossed in the bag and pressed the "popcorn" button. and listened for the popping to stop.
Hear me now people!!!
I  .  Followed  .  The  .  Directions    !!!
(yeah, I'm shocked too)
But the microwave decided to pull a fast one on me and instead of nicely cooking the popcorn, it freaking MEGA ROASTED half the popcorn and blatantly IGNORED the rest of the kernels. What is with the youth of appliances today??? Such attitude over a simple request!!! So I'm freaking out because I have this Death Bomb of a bag that smells like it crawled out of hell, and it might, at ANY moment, trigger the smoke detectors. And I don't want to anger the few people that are left on the floor by gassing out the kitchen or making them go out in the cold, So I'm running like a 70's era cartoon character, arms out clinging to the bag, down the hall and back to my dorm. I thrust open the window (it's like, 20 degrees out) and cover my dorm's smoke detector with a towel. And I heave the blackened, smoking remnants of the bag into the garbage and place it by my, now freezing, open window. Now I hunt for the Febreze, and spray that stuff like it's oxygen. Now I'm sitting here, half packed, freezing, in my room that smells like Febreze declared war on Orville Redenbacher, hoping that that lady shows up and buys this freaking couch because I want this evening to be DONE. Screw you Microwave, Screw you Popcorn, Screw you Couch, Screw you Arctic Window. I AM DONE.

I dropped my bag

So funny story... I was walking back from a mid-study icecream run when I thought I saw my friend Tony, so naturally, being the friendly dipshit I am, I yell "TON-" but then I realize that it is in fact NOT him... And people are looking at me, and I'm standing there in a crowded area wide-eyed, mouth open and mid-shout, (I imagine I looked pretty ridiculous) so quickly I change the yell to "t-O-NO! I DROPPED MY BAG!" Now I'm getting really weird looks because I am CLEARLY still in possession of my bag. So I debate for half a second, (maybe longer, which allows for more strange looks and awkwardness to infiltrate my cool attitude) and come to a conclusion. I do the only natural thing in that situation, I loudly drop my bag on the ground, and stare at it in shock, as If it had just jumped from my hand. Now the entire area is looking at me acting absolutely stupid, And my arms are raised, shrugging at my bag as if to say 'why did you do this to me?' so I quickly lean over to pick up the bag and say toward the mass of people watching me "No worries citizens... I have my bag!" Then I RAN. I have never hauled ass as fast as that moment. ... Basically how awkward I am everyday...