PIMPZILLA!!!
Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: PIMPZILLA!
I found it! I installed it! I'm using it right now! It's as tacky and wonderful as they say! PIMPZILLA!

Happy Birthday to me!

Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Furiously Bored...
In just a few short days I will be another year older. n July 15, I will turn 23 years old at exactly 3:01 p.m. Then I'll be staring down the barrel of 24, geepers. I know, I'm still pretty young, but the fact remains that I'm not getting any younger. Less mature, perhaps, but younger, no.

What will I be doing on my birthday? (I know you didn't ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway.) My good friend Bobbo and I are going to the house of one of our favorite high school teachers: Dr. Wayne Jensen. We intend to surprise him with some kind of cheap-ass gift we'll pick at (most likely) the dollar store. Our approach will be something to the effect of playing loud music--probably Cypress Hill or Styx (we're not certain) and ring the door bell in a "ding-dong-ditch" fashion, minus the ditch. Instead of running away, we will tango in his front yard. We are debating kidnapping a guy named Pete, and dragging him along. Personnally, I think I'll try to contact some members of the freshman boys basketball team from 1996-1997--I managed this team. I'm hoping they will join us for the fun...however, the odds of me actually getting in contact with them and them taking my request seriously are slim to nill. So, anyway, that's what I'm doing for my birthday. Go me! (Note to self: pick up a bottle of scotch.)

Mrs. Jensen: If you're reading this, please, don't tell Wayne! It's a surprise.

To Dan, Peter, Kevin, Darrin, Mike, Tae, and all the other guys from the team: If you are reading this and want to join in the festivities, sen me an e-mail at g00d_feathers@yahoo.com, & I'll give you your assignments. Remember, loose lips destroy secret plans, so keep your mouths shut. (Sorry 'bout that last part, I'm still in Boondock Saints mode.)

"Make like a tree and get the fuck outta here!"-McGinty from the Boondock Saints

Boondock News: They (the all encompassing vagueness of "they") are currently filming Boondock Saints 2! Rejoice, rejoice!

I just saw Pirates of the Carribbean. It was lovely. Orlando Bloom can wear anything and still look fucking gorgeous! After I watched it the 3rd or 4th time, it dawned on me, this movie is a remake. I'm not certain, but I think the original starred Errol Flynn (sp?). However, I like the Johnny Depp version better--this could be simply due to the fact that I've had a bit of a crush on him since I was 4 or 5 and watched 21 Jump Street religiously. (That was about the only thing I did religiously.)

Okay that's all until I come up something new.

Hello out there!
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Been awhile
Okay, first I'd like to apologize for my extended month-long absence. To be honest, for two weeks I forgot I had a blog, or a webpage for that matter. The last two weeks, however, I've had some pc issues, making it nearly impossible for me to stay online for more than ten minutes. So, I shall update all of you for the past month.

Passed one class, had to take an Incomplete in the other (pc issues, lost my references and part of a paper I was working for said class T_T, had to start over.) I turned afformentioned paper in today, and e-mailed it to the instructor to make certain he had recieved it. It was not nearly what it had been--there were four (4) references for all twenty (20) pages...cripes. Had someone ask me "How do I get a Jeebofish off my car without wrecking the paint job?" (There was a whole story about the Jeebofish, but it's kind of long and involved...if you're Christian--I apologize for any offense.) The word "Jeebofish" just made me smile, so I thought I say a word about it.
Speaking of words...I have a few new ones!
Tarradiddle: (meaning) a fib, pretentious nonsense. Pleonasm: (meaning) the use of more words than are necessary to express an idea. (that definition is a pleonasm (?))

Also, I watched one of my favorite movies again, and again, and yet again...just because, well, dammit, I went all the way to Blockbuster, paid them some money, and rented the damn thing, now it's mine til friday--so I'm gonna use it like I mean it, yeah baby! The movie? Boondock Saints. Now I'm not so exceptionally on the, shall we say, "orthodox" side of religious beliefs, but that doesn't mean Catholicism doesn't still facsinate the beJeebofish outta me. (Hey, Jen, you like how I worked "Jeebofish in there"?) For those of you who have seen the movie, but still don't know the prayer by heart, here it is:

"And shepherds we shall be,
for thee my Lord for thee,
power hath descended forth from thy hand,
that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command.
We shall flow a river forth to thee,
and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."
(by: Troy Duffy who both wrote and directed Boondock Saints, and will have a special place in my heart forever--gotta love Willem Dafoe in that movie! He just gets so into character! Fuck! Go watch the movie yourself!) Now for those of you, and you know who you are, who do not speak Latin or aren't Catholic, here is a translation of the last line: "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." (As if that wouldn't be obvious as all git oot, right?)

Okay, that's all...rent the Boondock Saints...

Veritas! Aequitas! Aut viam inveniam aut faciam!!

The Solstice is coming! The Solstice is coming!
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Brain-dead Trumpet Moths Flock to Underwater Somethingorothers...yeah...
I can think of nothing to write...That's probably because I'm PMSing and my creativity is at an all-time low (with the sole exception of that one summer). Anyway, that's all. Go home, nothing to see here (obviously).

This one time, at band camp...
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: men are harder to draw
Okay, so I've gotten back into drawing my anime characters again. I've forgotten how difficult it is to draw anime guys...if not done properly, they tend to look more like girls--but without boobs. It's rather frustrating, and I'm going through erasers like crazy!

Weather update: I wanted to mow the lawn today, but it's supposed to rain any minute. Lately it's been pretty nice out, a little windy, and a bit chilly, but not frigidly cold. Yay! It's tornado season!! Okay, well, that's not a good thing, but if you've ever watched a tornado rip through a neighboring town, you'd know what I mean.

A Tornado story:
The year was about 1962, my dad was 14 at the time. He was at a friend's house with some other guys, no parents, just hangin out. It was a bright, sunny, warm day, then all of a sudden, it got dark and cloudy. Mist and fog quickly blanketed the area, while a torrent of rain and hail pounded the little town. The boys run outside, on to the porch, to experience the weather, then they see it. A massive twister headed right for the small town--right for them. The boys quickly run around, unplugging appliances, and throwing open the windows, they then take shelter in the basement under the stairwell. Ten minutes pass with relative quiet, until the entire foundation begins to shake, the four boys huddle closer together. As quickly as the shaking began it stopped. All was silent for a few moments, and they thought all was now well, so they stood up and prepared to depart the stairwell. Then the foundation began the shake more violently than before, and they dropped to dirt floor and holding on to one another.
"What the hell is going on?!" screamed Tom, but no one answered. Jack, however, did smack him upside the head for being an idiot and asking stupid questions at stupid times. Tom never did have good timing. Once the shaking stopped again, the boys waited a good twenty minutes, until they were certain the danger had passed. The boys cautiously climbed the stairs, opened the door that led to the rest of the house, and walked through it. All the boys stopped, their mouths hanging open in disbelief, as they looked around the house.
"My house!" cried Pete, "It's gone...it's fuckin gone!" He was correct, not unlike Dorothy, the house was completely gone. It had been picked up by the tornado, and smashed through the neighbor's now completely demolished barn. The only thing left of the house was the floor, including the trap door leading to the basement, and the large, iron bath tub.


The story you just read is true. The house was gone. The tornado ripped apart the small town of Mequon. Pete had a panic attack--he thought his mother was going to kill him. Tom fainted. Jack ran home to check on his family. And the other young man, who's not really mentioned (Bill), sat down in the dirt and proceeded to throw up when he noticed the demolished barn where he knew his dog had been sleeping.

"Look, if we don't get caught...then we won't get caught..."
Mood:  mischievious
Now Playing: The Great American Novel...Manga...Manvel...Novga...Whatever.
New title, new manga obsession! FullMetal Alchemist!!! Words cannot describe...
I think my next manga obsession will be DN Angel...I've heard grand things about it, and I've seen for myself the impressive & expressive art work it contains...I think I'd buy a copy solely for the artwork.
Tried Cowboy Bebop, didn't like it...I can't say why...
Finished Z-Boys. Erotic boy on boy, not to mention extremely romantic...why don't straight guys say things like that???!!! Damn you, straight guys, for not being romantic!!

Job Front: Going to job fair on south side tomorry...hoping it goes super-well. (Super-well translation: it ends up with me getting a friggen job!)

Question: What is the Great American Novel? Is it an actual novel, or is it a concept? Discuss.

Yep...
Mood:  mischievious
Uhmmm...yeah...as many of you already know, I'm dyslexic. Ergo, reading is not my strongsuit. I think my profs subconsiously know this and therefore give these horrifically large reading assignments. Grrrr. I have to finish reading/skimming 113 pages by 6pm Monday, and another 231 by Tuesday. I also have a light "discussion questions" assignment. I only have to answer 3 questions, but they're all so damned-ass complicated. They have no right friggen answer--so wrong!

Anywho. I broke my "I vow to go a full 6 months before dying my hair again" vow. However, place the personal failure aside, you will find that my hair is no longer the blondish-brownish-greenish-bluish thing I had happening there, but it is now a lovely dark brown. I hope it doesn't fade too much, I like it this color. BTW, dark brown/brown black is my natural color (*scratches head* "to the best of my recollection"), and I've forgotten just how hot my natural color looks on me...damn...I am gorgeous!

Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: New Mousie, New Mousie!!
Today, while I was at Wal*Mart(tm) to pick up a box of 3.5" floppy disks, I noticed a mouse. It was soooooo cute, and new, and it didn't have one of those gawd-awful trackerballs, + it was cheap (can I get a woot, woot! for the cheapness of it all?!). So, I bought the mouse, took it home and installed it. Oh, what a beautiful thing it is to have a mouse that actually works the way it's supposed to! The buttons work, every single time I click them. The wheel works, every single time I turn it. The cursor moves, but only when I move the mouse! It's one of those optical things...and ooooooh! I love it sooooooo much!!! Why do I love this inanimate object? Because it works the way it is supposed to, unlike Microsoft IE...but I refuse to get into that right now.

My new mouse is a Logitech Mini Optical Mouse, and she's plugged into my USB port right now!
Oh, yeah, it also lights up when I move it...SCORE!!

And it is once again the start of a new term!
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Comments from the good ppl @ Gaia Online...
I went to Gaia online today, I just wanted to see who actually reviewed my site. The reviews were so-so. I can live with that. They all, however, thought I was funny. I had no intention of being humorous when I started GoodFeathers Thoughts back on Yahoo!, or when I moved it to tripod. However, over time, it just sort of came about that way. As for the Good Typing page, that is NOT a joke. I like typewriters, love them. There's something tangibly nostalgic about a typewriter. They sing the melody of a writer deep in thought, or a loved one far from home, depending on what is being written, and by whom.

Moving on.

Job hunt. Not so good. I'm thinking of going out to Pewaukee for work, or perhaps Sussex. (these are townships well outside of the big city where I live, not nearly close enough to be considered suburbs) I'd prefer to stay where I'm at, but I dunno. I dislike this particular situation...I have no plan, I had a plan before, but now...Dammit, I had a fricken plan! PLAN!!!!!!! *deep breaths, deep calming breaths* Need job.

Once again, I now type fifty wpm, I have basic knowledge of blueprints, I can do rough carpentry, I have a positive outlook, I'm good with computers & I try to be good with people too, I can be a self-starter when I want to, and I have the ability to be well organized. Please hire me, I work like an intern & for less money!!!! Please, I need a job!

Place to live. Don't you find it funny that when there's no work to be found, there are apartments in your target price range all over the place?! GGGRRRRRRRRRR...

Colonel Sanders Haunted My Dreams Last Night!
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: A Tale of Two Scares
let me begin by saying that I am very near-sighted. For those of you who doen't know, that means I can't see things more than ten feet away with any kind of clarity without my glasses.

Late last night, around 1a.m., I get up from bed to go get my inhaler out of the kitchen, where I thought I'd left it. Being as I still live in the same house I grew up in, and the floor plan hasn't changed ever, I know the house pretty damn well. Therefore, I didn't think anything of wandering about in the dead of night with all the lights off and without my glasses. I round the corner from bedroom and walked into the hall. From here, I saw something that was kind of fuzzy and light colored near/in the living room at the end and to the right of the hall. I figured someone put something on the clock that's just around that corner, and it was just sort of hanging off the edge of the clock. (The clock is exactly 5.5 feet tall.) Anyway, I get half-way down the hall, and I glance at the thing that I think is resting on top of the clock. "Hey, that, what-ever-it-is-probably-a-bag looks kinda like a face," I thought as I took another step. I get about three feet away from it and, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I screamed, I screamed like one of those girls in a slasher flick--woke up the neighbors, but not my son or my mother. While I scream bloody murder, I reach for the broom that is leaning on the wall next to the kitchen light switch, but I can't seem to get arms to listen to my higher brain functions, or my voice apparently, as I was still screaming. Now, why was I screaming like a virgin cheerleader in a slasher movie? Because, I saw, what for the life of me, I could have sworn, was the floating disembodied head of my beloved Daddy. The head moved to the left a bit and lowered, and suddenly the light came on, and shortly thereafter I stopped screaming. I looked down, and noticed that it wasn't the "floating disembodied head of my beloved Daddy", but the very much attached head of my asshole Dad, who stood there laughing at me! Jerk.
After all the fun, I returned to my search for my inhaler, it was still in my room...I couldn't find it because I had tossed my bandana over it and didn't think to look underneath.

He laughed at me! I screamed bloody murder and no one came to help! Gee, can you feel the love?


Anyway, everytime I fell asleep for the rest of the night, I had strange nightmares about the floating disembodied head of Colonel Sanders, and according to him, "Everything I know is wrong," or so the song goes. Thank you Weird Al!!