Thursday, January 12, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
Dave the Marble
So the last time I posted, I said I'd deconstruct some Hoobasuck lyrics the next time I posted. I didn't put a time limit on this promise, so even the fact that it's been a while since I posted shouldn't matter. A promise is a promise.
Well guess what? The Tuna lies.
Fact is that I have one of those jobs with a workload that is directly proportional to the number of people in the office on any given day. Today being December 30th, most people are still out on holiday, which makes my workload very, very small. As such, I'm effectively on call in case something catastrophic happens, like a squirrel hiding under the kitchen oven and chewing on exposed wires.
It took a week to get the smell out last time. Do you know what flash-fried squirrel smells like? Here's a hint: not like barbecue.
So I'm bored, and it's the kind of boredom that results in your brain giving all of your excess energy away to charity because, hey, you're obviously not using it. I barely have the fortitude and drive to type, much less think of something hilarious to say about a crappy band's crappy lyrics. Not that doing that takes more energy -- it's pretty easy and comes naturally. I'm pretty sure that it takes more energy to watch linoleum curl.
Sooo.... what will I write instead? How about a story about a marble named Dave?
DAVE THE MARBLE
by The Tuna
See, Dave was just like any other marble in the bag. He was glass, he was round, and he had one of those freaky colored swirling patterns stuck inside him like a semi-permanent visible acid trip. But one thing Dave wasn't was complacent. He wasn't happy to sit around and be knocked about and dropped and grabbed by grubby little kid fingers like the other marbles, especially this one loser named Carl.
Now unlike Dave, Carl, a marble with a pattern inside that looked like a constipated goldfish, was more than happy to just be a marble. As a matter of fact, it somewhat offended him how badly Dave wanted to be free and see the world.
He tried to convince Dave. "Now Dave, come on, you're just a tiny glass ball! There's no life out there for you!"
"But Carl," retorted Dave, "How can I know that without seeing it and deciding for myself?"
That question actually stopped Carl long enough for Dave to make his move. With one mighty push of his glass muscles (they exist, look it up), Dave rolled off the table (the kid was playing with his marbles on the table, did I forget to mention that?) and onto the floor. The particular house the kid lived in had very poor foundations and was therefore slightly skewed, so he immediately began to roll. Carl yelled after him, but Dave paid him no heed. Only seconds passed before he rolled out the open door (also, there was no weather striping or sill on the door. The people who owned this place paid a fortune in heating bills).
Oh, the glorious freedom! The kid was a shut-in, so Dave had never been outside. And what a world it was out there! The blue skies, the warm sun on his glass face (unlike yours truly, Dave did not live in the Pacific Northwest), the warm breeze! Blades of green grass shot toward the sky as though crying for freedom, the same freedom he now felt! Birds twittered joyously as though celebrating his feat! This... this was living. He did not know how to describe his life before this moment, except that he could no longer call it life.
Then he bounced into the street and a car ran over him, thereby reinforcing that one should never shed conformity for a moment of bliss because the ensuing pain is just totally not worth it.
Wow, I'm laughing at myself for writing that. Well, hope I didn't ruin your day. Go have a ball! But not a glass one that bounces into the street. Ciao!
Well guess what? The Tuna lies.
Fact is that I have one of those jobs with a workload that is directly proportional to the number of people in the office on any given day. Today being December 30th, most people are still out on holiday, which makes my workload very, very small. As such, I'm effectively on call in case something catastrophic happens, like a squirrel hiding under the kitchen oven and chewing on exposed wires.
It took a week to get the smell out last time. Do you know what flash-fried squirrel smells like? Here's a hint: not like barbecue.
So I'm bored, and it's the kind of boredom that results in your brain giving all of your excess energy away to charity because, hey, you're obviously not using it. I barely have the fortitude and drive to type, much less think of something hilarious to say about a crappy band's crappy lyrics. Not that doing that takes more energy -- it's pretty easy and comes naturally. I'm pretty sure that it takes more energy to watch linoleum curl.
Sooo.... what will I write instead? How about a story about a marble named Dave?
DAVE THE MARBLE
by The Tuna
See, Dave was just like any other marble in the bag. He was glass, he was round, and he had one of those freaky colored swirling patterns stuck inside him like a semi-permanent visible acid trip. But one thing Dave wasn't was complacent. He wasn't happy to sit around and be knocked about and dropped and grabbed by grubby little kid fingers like the other marbles, especially this one loser named Carl.
Now unlike Dave, Carl, a marble with a pattern inside that looked like a constipated goldfish, was more than happy to just be a marble. As a matter of fact, it somewhat offended him how badly Dave wanted to be free and see the world.
He tried to convince Dave. "Now Dave, come on, you're just a tiny glass ball! There's no life out there for you!"
"But Carl," retorted Dave, "How can I know that without seeing it and deciding for myself?"
That question actually stopped Carl long enough for Dave to make his move. With one mighty push of his glass muscles (they exist, look it up), Dave rolled off the table (the kid was playing with his marbles on the table, did I forget to mention that?) and onto the floor. The particular house the kid lived in had very poor foundations and was therefore slightly skewed, so he immediately began to roll. Carl yelled after him, but Dave paid him no heed. Only seconds passed before he rolled out the open door (also, there was no weather striping or sill on the door. The people who owned this place paid a fortune in heating bills).
Oh, the glorious freedom! The kid was a shut-in, so Dave had never been outside. And what a world it was out there! The blue skies, the warm sun on his glass face (unlike yours truly, Dave did not live in the Pacific Northwest), the warm breeze! Blades of green grass shot toward the sky as though crying for freedom, the same freedom he now felt! Birds twittered joyously as though celebrating his feat! This... this was living. He did not know how to describe his life before this moment, except that he could no longer call it life.
Then he bounced into the street and a car ran over him, thereby reinforcing that one should never shed conformity for a moment of bliss because the ensuing pain is just totally not worth it.
* * *
Wow, I'm laughing at myself for writing that. Well, hope I didn't ruin your day. Go have a ball! But not a glass one that bounces into the street. Ciao!
Monday, December 5, 2011
Views On Music And Why I Hate Hoobastank
You know, I'm one of the first people to admit that my views on music are odd, and I'm not just talking about the kind of music I personally enjoy. Finnish symphonic metal bands aren't everyone's cup of tea and I understand that. But I really do have odd views on the whole spectrum of music as a whole.
I know, that makes no sense. But consider first how people's general views of band or artist usually line up pretty well with their perception of their skill. It looks kind of like this:
Notice how it's a fairly linear graph from left to right, with almost perfect correlation between the two values.
Now I've noticed something odd -- my opinion of bands and artists doesn't follow this linear graph. Rather, it seems to be more of a bell curve when graphed along with skill, and not a particularly uniform one at that. I love a great band, but I maintain a certain amount of respect for terrible bands, because more often than not they're trying and you can tell they're having fun. My true ire is saved for those mediocre, middle of the road bands that have just enough talent to sound decent but not enough drive to actually rise above sounding like everyone else. Observe:
I really don't think this is too harsh.
So who falls into that middle of the road category? You probably know them pretty well. Bands like Nickelback. The Jonas Brothers. I'm sorry, but Coldplay. Artists like Cyrus, Beiber and the rest of all those Disney Channel androids. I'd put Creed here but they've been done ten years now and that'd be disrespectful to the dead.
And of course, my ultimate nemesis, who is so hated that I refuse to write their name correctly and insist on referring to them by a clever pseudonym I made up: Hoobasuck. I do not understand how anyone could possess talent and willfully choose mediocrity over actually going somewhere. If you listen to them (please understand, I'm not actually recommending you do this), you can tell that they know their instruments. They can play. The lead singer can sing, although he could stand to not, you know, sound like every other frontman in the business.
But they choose this mediocrity. It's all bland, uninspired, sounds exactly like a huge mishmash of everyone else, and it just aggravates me to no end. Even their lyrics are terrible:
What do I have to do / to get inside of you / to get inside of you / Cause I love the way you move / when I'm inside of you / when I'm inside of you
That's sick and stalker-esque, not to mention downright irritating. I come up with better lyrics by farting through a cardboard tube.
You know what man? If you're writing tons of songs like that about a girl that left you, I've got a pretty good idea why she left.
Forgive me, but these guys really get me going. I feel it's only appropriate at this point to end this angry rant with the following image:
I know, that makes no sense. But consider first how people's general views of band or artist usually line up pretty well with their perception of their skill. It looks kind of like this:
Notice how it's a fairly linear graph from left to right, with almost perfect correlation between the two values.
Now I've noticed something odd -- my opinion of bands and artists doesn't follow this linear graph. Rather, it seems to be more of a bell curve when graphed along with skill, and not a particularly uniform one at that. I love a great band, but I maintain a certain amount of respect for terrible bands, because more often than not they're trying and you can tell they're having fun. My true ire is saved for those mediocre, middle of the road bands that have just enough talent to sound decent but not enough drive to actually rise above sounding like everyone else. Observe:
So who falls into that middle of the road category? You probably know them pretty well. Bands like Nickelback. The Jonas Brothers. I'm sorry, but Coldplay. Artists like Cyrus, Beiber and the rest of all those Disney Channel androids. I'd put Creed here but they've been done ten years now and that'd be disrespectful to the dead.
And of course, my ultimate nemesis, who is so hated that I refuse to write their name correctly and insist on referring to them by a clever pseudonym I made up: Hoobasuck. I do not understand how anyone could possess talent and willfully choose mediocrity over actually going somewhere. If you listen to them (please understand, I'm not actually recommending you do this), you can tell that they know their instruments. They can play. The lead singer can sing, although he could stand to not, you know, sound like every other frontman in the business.
But they choose this mediocrity. It's all bland, uninspired, sounds exactly like a huge mishmash of everyone else, and it just aggravates me to no end. Even their lyrics are terrible:
What do I have to do / to get inside of you / to get inside of you / Cause I love the way you move / when I'm inside of you / when I'm inside of you
That's sick and stalker-esque, not to mention downright irritating. I come up with better lyrics by farting through a cardboard tube.
You know what man? If you're writing tons of songs like that about a girl that left you, I've got a pretty good idea why she left.
Forgive me, but these guys really get me going. I feel it's only appropriate at this point to end this angry rant with the following image:
Friday, December 2, 2011
Back from the dead
I do this weird thing sometimes where I'll give something a good, solid try for a while, and then stop. This doesn't happen because I get bored of it, necessarily. Rather, it happens because I get busy with something else and flat out forget about it.
In this case I was too busy singing and dancing in the streets to blog, but I'm all done with that and back to stay, I promise. I've been pepper-sprayed one too many times in the last few weeks and blogging is much safer.
Now this doesn't mean I was part of the Occupy protests, because those people are silly and think that real change comes from people camping in parks. I'm just trying to manufacture a meme as funny as pepper-spray cop.
Up next, watch as I apply critical thinking to and deconstruct Hoobastank lyrics!
In this case I was too busy singing and dancing in the streets to blog, but I'm all done with that and back to stay, I promise. I've been pepper-sprayed one too many times in the last few weeks and blogging is much safer.
Now this doesn't mean I was part of the Occupy protests, because those people are silly and think that real change comes from people camping in parks. I'm just trying to manufacture a meme as funny as pepper-spray cop.
Up next, watch as I apply critical thinking to and deconstruct Hoobastank lyrics!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
A Pointless Post
I use this blog for a lot of things. Sometimes I rant and make myself look like a huge arse, sometimes I pontificate, sometimes I geek out.
Right now, I'm using it to say that I use it for lots of things. I've got nothing else.
Come back tomorrow.
EDIT: Also, I like 'Neutron Star Collision' by Muse. Now which one of their producers thought it'd be just fantastic to have it headline the third Twilight film and have it be about the main characters? Watch the music video. Doesn't matter that there's Twicrap footage spliced in -- he's obviously not singing about them.
Right now, I'm using it to say that I use it for lots of things. I've got nothing else.
Come back tomorrow.
EDIT: Also, I like 'Neutron Star Collision' by Muse. Now which one of their producers thought it'd be just fantastic to have it headline the third Twilight film and have it be about the main characters? Watch the music video. Doesn't matter that there's Twicrap footage spliced in -- he's obviously not singing about them.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Why u grab door im holding???
A very large part of my job involves walking through doors. I work on a large campus, so there are many doors to walk through, and since a lot of other people work there, they walk through those doors too. So given that both I and a lot of other people frequent these doors, it's inevitable that eventually, one of us will end up holding a door for the other.
And it's often going to be me, because, gosh, I'm just such a nice guy.
But something really odd caught my attention yesterday. I can very clearly be standing back, away from the doorway, holding the door way back, and a lot of people will go out of their way to touch the door ever so briefly, going so far as to lean way the heck over to the point of endangering their equilibrium just so they can reach the fracking thing.
After the sixth or so time this happened, I could only look to the Heavens and cry out, why? Why would people inconvenience themselves so much in order to touch a door that I'm obviously holding for the purpose of them not having to do that?
This question, in spite of its relative unimportance to my daily life, burned like a thousand value meals at Taco Bell. So I posed the question in a Facebook status update. And the responses came pouring in. Some were thoughtful, others silly, and some yet unapologetically derp. But I wanted to take some time to address each of the possibilities in the interest of getting to the bottom of this. Possibilities like...
1. It's Just A Habit
I can understand this. We do things out of habit all the time even when it wouldn't normally make sense. For example, it's pretty stupid to try and catch a falling bunch of knives unless you're Wolverine. Yet if you saw one fall out of the corner of your eye, it'd be a pretty understandable reflex to try to catch it, regardless of the sudden freedom that action would probably owe to the blood in your wrists.
And on the less deadly end of the spectrum, what about all those times you reach for something that is always in a certain place, only to find it isn't? Your phone is always on the right side of the desk next to your shrunken head collection -- why would you even look? So this kind of makes sense.
Except that someone holding the door is neither an event that takes most people by surprise, nor is it something that can happen without a person noticing. No, it did not just fly open in your face and you can't perform telekinesis. It's got to be something else. Something like...
2. They Don't Trust The Laws Of Physics
Let's face it. Of all the laws in the universe that we understand, we understand the laws of physics probably the least. Especially gravity. What in the world is it about something as big as a planet that makes it pull things into itself? And if it's such a strong force, why is it so easy to break? Ever tried pulling magnets apart? It's easy.
Gravity is such a tease.
So maybe all those people have the same deep-seated mistrust of physics that I do. Maybe they suspect that if they don't reach out a hand and give that door a tap, physics might fail outright and the door will go right through my hand, beginning a deadly trajectory toward the back of their head. Sure, it sounds silly, probably even to them. But they know that the one time they choose not to put out that safety hand, the door's got their number. Better safe than sorry.
Of course, if that happened, if physics failed, what would make their hand any more solid than mine? Actually, what would make them any more solid? The door could just swing harmlessly through them -- or, physics could kick back in just as it's beginning to close and it could rematerialize in the middle of their torso. So really, the logical reaction here would be to get the hell out of the way.
So that can't be it either. Maybe the answer is less science-fictiony. Something such as...
3. They Know I'm Just Looking For A Reason To Slam The Door In Their Face
Now that's just mean.
So let's move on to...
4. They Just Want To Help
Let's assume for a moment that people are basically good. I know, based on previous posts, that's a leap in logic. But hear me out. They approach the door, all ready to put their arm muscles to use and heave that door wide open, but then they see me lil' ol' me grab it and hold it back for them, freely giving of myself so that they don't have to waste their valuable energy on a simple door. So they feel for me. They honestly appreciate what I'm doing, but they desire so badly to give back that they feel like they need to contribute.
So they reach out in passing and give the door one. Little. Tap. To signal that they appreciate my efforts, and though they are perfectly capable of opening that door on their own, they accept my help. It's really just a sweet gesture of appreciation.
On the other hand, if I keep writing on this possibility, I may end up giving myself and everyone reading diabetes. Really, what are the odds that that many people are so selfless and saccharine-sweet? Some of you are. But that's not going to be a conscious reason for everyone.
In any case, each of the above are seemingly valid reasons, ranging from habit to paranoia to appreciation. But there's something else. Something deeper. Something that can only be explained by understanding that...
5. I Live In An Egalitarian Society
Equality is a huge deal these days. Everyone gets treated equally, in both the good and bad ways. No one person is intrinsically better or worse than anyone else. A beggar has the same rights as someone who gained riches playing the stock market. And really, I agree with this sentiment.
But sometimes it does extend to something as silly as holding a door. I guess the thinking may go in this case that if I have the ability to open the door, so do they. And that's what that little tap means. It's that person saying, "Well thank you, but I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of opening that door on my own. So, just to prove it--" TAP.
It's not just women, either, if that's what you're thinking. Guys do it too. People, yes, it's true. We were all created equal, we all have the same rights, and we all have the capability to open a freaking door. But you know what? Don't take it as an insult if someone chooses to do something for you that you're able to do on your own, because maybe they're just trying to be nice.
I'm not saying that this is really the reason for all or even most. But to you egalitarians out there: I'm with you. I really am. But I am still going to hold the door for you, and you've just got to get used to it.
But on second thought, go ahead and keep reaching for that door on the off-chance that reason #3 ends up being the case.
And it's often going to be me, because, gosh, I'm just such a nice guy.
But something really odd caught my attention yesterday. I can very clearly be standing back, away from the doorway, holding the door way back, and a lot of people will go out of their way to touch the door ever so briefly, going so far as to lean way the heck over to the point of endangering their equilibrium just so they can reach the fracking thing.
After the sixth or so time this happened, I could only look to the Heavens and cry out, why? Why would people inconvenience themselves so much in order to touch a door that I'm obviously holding for the purpose of them not having to do that?
This question, in spite of its relative unimportance to my daily life, burned like a thousand value meals at Taco Bell. So I posed the question in a Facebook status update. And the responses came pouring in. Some were thoughtful, others silly, and some yet unapologetically derp. But I wanted to take some time to address each of the possibilities in the interest of getting to the bottom of this. Possibilities like...
1. It's Just A Habit
I can understand this. We do things out of habit all the time even when it wouldn't normally make sense. For example, it's pretty stupid to try and catch a falling bunch of knives unless you're Wolverine. Yet if you saw one fall out of the corner of your eye, it'd be a pretty understandable reflex to try to catch it, regardless of the sudden freedom that action would probably owe to the blood in your wrists.
And on the less deadly end of the spectrum, what about all those times you reach for something that is always in a certain place, only to find it isn't? Your phone is always on the right side of the desk next to your shrunken head collection -- why would you even look? So this kind of makes sense.
Except that someone holding the door is neither an event that takes most people by surprise, nor is it something that can happen without a person noticing. No, it did not just fly open in your face and you can't perform telekinesis. It's got to be something else. Something like...
2. They Don't Trust The Laws Of Physics
Let's face it. Of all the laws in the universe that we understand, we understand the laws of physics probably the least. Especially gravity. What in the world is it about something as big as a planet that makes it pull things into itself? And if it's such a strong force, why is it so easy to break? Ever tried pulling magnets apart? It's easy.
Gravity is such a tease.
So maybe all those people have the same deep-seated mistrust of physics that I do. Maybe they suspect that if they don't reach out a hand and give that door a tap, physics might fail outright and the door will go right through my hand, beginning a deadly trajectory toward the back of their head. Sure, it sounds silly, probably even to them. But they know that the one time they choose not to put out that safety hand, the door's got their number. Better safe than sorry.
Of course, if that happened, if physics failed, what would make their hand any more solid than mine? Actually, what would make them any more solid? The door could just swing harmlessly through them -- or, physics could kick back in just as it's beginning to close and it could rematerialize in the middle of their torso. So really, the logical reaction here would be to get the hell out of the way.
So that can't be it either. Maybe the answer is less science-fictiony. Something such as...
3. They Know I'm Just Looking For A Reason To Slam The Door In Their Face
Now that's just mean.
So let's move on to...
4. They Just Want To Help
Let's assume for a moment that people are basically good. I know, based on previous posts, that's a leap in logic. But hear me out. They approach the door, all ready to put their arm muscles to use and heave that door wide open, but then they see me lil' ol' me grab it and hold it back for them, freely giving of myself so that they don't have to waste their valuable energy on a simple door. So they feel for me. They honestly appreciate what I'm doing, but they desire so badly to give back that they feel like they need to contribute.
So they reach out in passing and give the door one. Little. Tap. To signal that they appreciate my efforts, and though they are perfectly capable of opening that door on their own, they accept my help. It's really just a sweet gesture of appreciation.
On the other hand, if I keep writing on this possibility, I may end up giving myself and everyone reading diabetes. Really, what are the odds that that many people are so selfless and saccharine-sweet? Some of you are. But that's not going to be a conscious reason for everyone.
In any case, each of the above are seemingly valid reasons, ranging from habit to paranoia to appreciation. But there's something else. Something deeper. Something that can only be explained by understanding that...
5. I Live In An Egalitarian Society
Equality is a huge deal these days. Everyone gets treated equally, in both the good and bad ways. No one person is intrinsically better or worse than anyone else. A beggar has the same rights as someone who gained riches playing the stock market. And really, I agree with this sentiment.
But sometimes it does extend to something as silly as holding a door. I guess the thinking may go in this case that if I have the ability to open the door, so do they. And that's what that little tap means. It's that person saying, "Well thank you, but I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of opening that door on my own. So, just to prove it--" TAP.
It's not just women, either, if that's what you're thinking. Guys do it too. People, yes, it's true. We were all created equal, we all have the same rights, and we all have the capability to open a freaking door. But you know what? Don't take it as an insult if someone chooses to do something for you that you're able to do on your own, because maybe they're just trying to be nice.
I'm not saying that this is really the reason for all or even most. But to you egalitarians out there: I'm with you. I really am. But I am still going to hold the door for you, and you've just got to get used to it.
But on second thought, go ahead and keep reaching for that door on the off-chance that reason #3 ends up being the case.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Why I'm Probably a Supervillian
Hey, you remember those quizzes that were all the rage a couple years ago? You know, the ones that asked you this long series of unrelated questions about your life and then told you to answer them by putting iTunes on shuffle?
Well, I did one of these just now because I couldn't think of anything to write about. I'll share the answers with you; Some of them are scarily accurate, others hilarious, and still more so nonsensical that it's a stretch to assign them any meaning whatsoever. And yet, as is only right, I have done my best to frame each answer as a deep, clever insight, using only my wit and neatly placed parentheticals. Enjoy!
How am I feeling today?
Stand Here with Me - Creed
(Somewhere between needy and clingy.)
Will I get far in life?
Dread and the Fugitive Mind - Megadeth
(The better question is: How far will I make it from the prison before they track me down and drag me back?)
How do my friends see me?
Bye Bye Beautiful - Nightwish
(I see two interpretations here. They're jealous of my looks and plan to disown me, or they're jealous and plan to cover me in gasoline and packing peanuts and then set me on fire.)
When will I get Married?
My Sacrifice - Creed
(No answer as far as timetable goes. But apparently I won't be thrilled about it.)
What is my best friend's theme song?
The Dream of a Normal Death - Murray Gold
(Hahaha! All these odd and unusual deaths will constantly present themselves to him and he will grow increasingly exasperated as he searches for that one perfectly mundane death.)
What is the story of my life?
Crash Landing - Jack Wall
(Nobody expected me to show up and I caused a hell of an explosion when I did.)
What was high school like?
Erana's Garden - Aubrey Hodges
(Pretty, but altogether creepy. Also one of the only safe places to sleep in the entire country.)
How am I going to get ahead in life?
Dead to the World - Nightwish
(Apathy! I knew I was on to something.)
What is the best thing about me?
Walk On Water - Milk Inc.
(My supernatural aspects can't be discounted.)
How is today going to be?
Turn the Page - Metallica
(Just another day in the life... and it's after midnight. Awesome. Bring on the monotony!)
What is in store for this weekend?
The White Stuff - Weird Al
(For all you sickos out there, this song is about Oreos. The cookie.)
What song describes my parents?
Late Great Planet Earth - Plumb
(They always did strike me as particularly post-apocalyptic.)
How is my life going?
Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Nancy Sinatra
(That... that one is just painful.)
What song will play at my funeral?
Masterpiece Conspiracy - P.O.D.
(We assure you everyone, he is most certainly dead! ...Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.)
How does the world see me?
Get On (Away from me) - Third Day
(Unwanted and unloved. I think I'm going to cry myself to sleep tonight.)
Will I have a happy life?
Fly Me to the Moon - Frank Sinatra
(If that's where happiness is, let's go!)
What do my friends really think of me?
Idiot Box - Incubus
(No respect! None whatsoever!)
Do people secretly lust after me?
Rebirthing - Skillet
(Only when I reinvent myself. They quickly lose interest after.)
How can I make myself happy?
Neutron Star Collision - Muse
(Again, two possible meanings. I either need to find my polar opposite, or start smashing stars together. The second sounds more fun.)
What should I do with my life?
Soul - Matchbox Twenty
(Yes... I'm a soul man. <ba-duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh>)
Will I ever have children?
1000 Julys - Third Eye Blind
(Yes. Every one of them, named July. Daycares will make millions off me.)
What is some good advice for me?
I Want You - Third Eye Blind
(That's not advice. That's an unwanted advance. Get away from me, you creepy quiz.)
What is my signature dancing song?
The Hazards Of Love - The Decemberists
(Also, the hazards of bad rhythm.)
What do I think my current theme song is?
Lint In My Pocket - lpoutsiders
(Give me a sec... okay, according to my bank account, yes. This one's true.)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Deathaura - Sonata Arctica
(FEAR ME!!)
What type of women do I like?
Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head - They Might Be Giants
(I'm apparently not a big fan of women who think for themselves. Hello, chauvinism.)
So what did I learn about myself from this quiz? I'm needy, chauvinistic, unwanted, unloved and apathetic, yet also powerful, a master of deception, prone to theatrics, and the progenitor of a new breed of crazy people.
Holy crap. I'm a supervillian.
Well, I did one of these just now because I couldn't think of anything to write about. I'll share the answers with you; Some of them are scarily accurate, others hilarious, and still more so nonsensical that it's a stretch to assign them any meaning whatsoever. And yet, as is only right, I have done my best to frame each answer as a deep, clever insight, using only my wit and neatly placed parentheticals. Enjoy!
How am I feeling today?
Stand Here with Me - Creed
(Somewhere between needy and clingy.)
Will I get far in life?
Dread and the Fugitive Mind - Megadeth
(The better question is: How far will I make it from the prison before they track me down and drag me back?)
How do my friends see me?
Bye Bye Beautiful - Nightwish
(I see two interpretations here. They're jealous of my looks and plan to disown me, or they're jealous and plan to cover me in gasoline and packing peanuts and then set me on fire.)
When will I get Married?
My Sacrifice - Creed
(No answer as far as timetable goes. But apparently I won't be thrilled about it.)
What is my best friend's theme song?
The Dream of a Normal Death - Murray Gold
(Hahaha! All these odd and unusual deaths will constantly present themselves to him and he will grow increasingly exasperated as he searches for that one perfectly mundane death.)
What is the story of my life?
Crash Landing - Jack Wall
(Nobody expected me to show up and I caused a hell of an explosion when I did.)
What was high school like?
Erana's Garden - Aubrey Hodges
(Pretty, but altogether creepy. Also one of the only safe places to sleep in the entire country.)
How am I going to get ahead in life?
Dead to the World - Nightwish
(Apathy! I knew I was on to something.)
What is the best thing about me?
Walk On Water - Milk Inc.
(My supernatural aspects can't be discounted.)
How is today going to be?
Turn the Page - Metallica
(Just another day in the life... and it's after midnight. Awesome. Bring on the monotony!)
What is in store for this weekend?
The White Stuff - Weird Al
(For all you sickos out there, this song is about Oreos. The cookie.)
What song describes my parents?
Late Great Planet Earth - Plumb
(They always did strike me as particularly post-apocalyptic.)
How is my life going?
Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Nancy Sinatra
(That... that one is just painful.)
What song will play at my funeral?
Masterpiece Conspiracy - P.O.D.
(We assure you everyone, he is most certainly dead! ...Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.)
How does the world see me?
Get On (Away from me) - Third Day
(Unwanted and unloved. I think I'm going to cry myself to sleep tonight.)
Will I have a happy life?
Fly Me to the Moon - Frank Sinatra
(If that's where happiness is, let's go!)
What do my friends really think of me?
Idiot Box - Incubus
(No respect! None whatsoever!)
Do people secretly lust after me?
Rebirthing - Skillet
(Only when I reinvent myself. They quickly lose interest after.)
How can I make myself happy?
Neutron Star Collision - Muse
(Again, two possible meanings. I either need to find my polar opposite, or start smashing stars together. The second sounds more fun.)
What should I do with my life?
Soul - Matchbox Twenty
(Yes... I'm a soul man. <ba-duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh>)
Will I ever have children?
1000 Julys - Third Eye Blind
(Yes. Every one of them, named July. Daycares will make millions off me.)
What is some good advice for me?
I Want You - Third Eye Blind
(That's not advice. That's an unwanted advance. Get away from me, you creepy quiz.)
What is my signature dancing song?
The Hazards Of Love - The Decemberists
(Also, the hazards of bad rhythm.)
What do I think my current theme song is?
Lint In My Pocket - lpoutsiders
(Give me a sec... okay, according to my bank account, yes. This one's true.)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Deathaura - Sonata Arctica
(FEAR ME!!)
What type of women do I like?
Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head - They Might Be Giants
(I'm apparently not a big fan of women who think for themselves. Hello, chauvinism.)
So what did I learn about myself from this quiz? I'm needy, chauvinistic, unwanted, unloved and apathetic, yet also powerful, a master of deception, prone to theatrics, and the progenitor of a new breed of crazy people.
Holy crap. I'm a supervillian.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present -- me.
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