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I just watched Fahrenheit 9/11, and immediately wanted to start some sort of organization to make everyone in America see it. Although it blatantly mocked the politicians, the movie took great lengths to inform the viewer about the services that US soldiers perform for this country. That portion alone was quite powerful.
It made me cry for the first time in a long, long while.
Meanwhile, USA Today takes a look at if the film will change voters' opinions. At the Rialto, lines for the 9:30 showing reached the corner of Five Points--on a Tuesday night, no less! Yet most people present were mostly liking on the left side of the fence. That, like so many other sources have mentioned previously, is the film's Achilles heel. It seems the only people attending are those who support Moore.
However, Fahrenheit 9/11 is making waves in other countries, such as Canada.
"Alliance Atlantis's Salter Street Films was a producer of Moore's Academy Award-winning Bowling for Columbine along with Vif 2 and Dog Eat Dog Films. The film grossed $5.8 million in Canada, the highest box office recorded for a documentary film in this country.
"That film resonated with Canadian audiences so well that Canada's box office sales accounted for fully 23 per cent of the total North American box office, a significant achievement," said Victor Loewy, CEO of Alliance Atlantis Motion Picture Distribution LP. "
You know, if I become president, hopefully occurances such as those mentioned in the film will not happen.
Bethany 2040! You never know...it could happen.
ATTENTION! If you DARE spend any more than $2.32 on a movie known to some as The Notebook, there is no hope for your soul. Oh mannnnn. Here's my personal review.
The movie begins with a random guy (apparently it's Ryan Gosling, althought it looks like his head is shaved) rowing across a river at sunset. Well, actually before that, there are opening credits--white letters on a black screen. No music. You could hear people nervously coughing in the theatre. Anyway, so the rower is rowing pretty hard as the opening credits begin. Why rowing? What is this, Grant Ligon: the movie? Finally, some music starts, just some clunky piano melody that could be perceived as foreshadowing, if not for the fact that at the time, I couldn't stop laughing.
It then becomes worse. Several white birdlike things suddenly take flight across the screen. It's sickeningly easy to identify the light-colored pixels amidst some old Southern plantation house. This movie undoubtedly has some of the worst computer animation that has come out in recent years.
Moving on, the actual film is decent--there's a great deal of poor scriptwriting ("Hey! Let's sit in the middle of the street and watch the traffic signals change lights! Sounds pretty keen to me!"), but each and every actor carries off their part with great dignity.
Contrary to modern cinema, which tends to sensationalize, a lot of the sexual scenes that appear in the book were either edited out, or censored in the film. The Notebook would have been rated R--if these scenes hadn't just included shots from the shoulders up, and lots of shots of moving blankets. I'm sorry, but moving blankets just aren't too captivating to watch.
Other than that, sure, it's a magnificent movie--if you like sappy love stories. Sometimes a good sappy love story is good. But The Notebook really packs a punch in the Cheez-Whiz department. The main theme isn't even very encouraging--'you never forget your first love'. Well yeah, you don't forget them...but it doesn't mean that you have to abandon your entire life and marry some schmuck just because you were a horny teenager and made out with him.
No more romantic movies for a while. Blehhh.
Photoshop can be a bit creepy at times.
It started out as my school pictures...it became a photo beast.
Actually it looks like one of those magic eye things.
What do you see?
Our Little Secret
A true story
“Hi, is Bill there?” I asked politely. Hannah tried to control her giddy laughter.
“Sure. Hold on,” a female voice replied. We giggled, responding to nothing but the rush of our adrenaline.
“Hello?” Bill picked up the phone. We froze, but I recovered quickly.
“Hi Bill. This is…uh…Ashley, from school,” I lied, “and well, one of my best friends has a REALLY huge crush on you. So I was, uh, wondering…” I paused, trying not to laugh, and took a breath. Hannah stared at the phone, her hand over her mouth. “I was wondering if you liked anyone.” The words shot out. Bill was silent, but suddenly all we heard was a dial tone. Hannah screamed, and I just laughed, our hearts pounding over the anonymous rebellion of our first prank phone call.
I can’t really remember how my best friend Hannah and I thought of this exciting hobby, one that eventually turned into an obsession. We were in elementary school when it started. Usually we’d call Bill. He was a year older than us, and a boy at Hannah’s church that she thought was absolutely gorgeous. I’d come to church with Hannah just to see him in a white dress shirt and tie, his light brown hair gelled back. It was obvious that Hannah liked him, but no one ever figured out if I did or not, not even myself.
So on Friday nights, if all of our homework were done, I’d go over to Hannah’s house and sleepover. We’d take Oreos and two tall glasses of lemonade upstairs, in case we felt peckish. Then the fun would begin…
We learned very quickly that parents loved us to be polite. “Hello, may I please speak to Bill?”
“I think so,” his father answered uncertainly, “but let me check.” I took a swallow of already-warm lemonade as Bill’s father searched for his son. After a while, his gravelly voice returned.
“OK, Bill’s in the bathroom—I mean, he can’t come to the phone right now. Can he call you back?”
“Um, no thanks. Goodnight!” I slammed the phone down and burst into laughter. Hannah did the same, spraying cookie chunks all over the room. We never did call Bill back; we were too afraid we’d start laughing again.
Soon after, Hannah and I developed our own special system for calling guys. If it were someone Hannah knew (and it usually was), then I would talk to him. If we were calling a guy I knew, I would still usually talk, but disguise my voice. Hannah was too shy to talk to anyone but her family and close friends, and besides, I possessed a talent for imitating others' voices. Also, we prayed that no one would ask who was calling. Hannah and I had to always be anonymous. Usually though, if a name was required, we’d say something like Ashley or Rachel or Sara. We’d never tell them to call back, either—no one could know us. Prank calling was our little secret.
We soon found as we became older, however, the calls became repetitive and boring. We no longer felt the “high” that prank calling used to give us. Plus Bill moved away, and we were unsure of his new number. It was time for fresh prey, and sixth grade began.
Matthew was always a little different from the crowd. He never had a bad day, and possessed a laugh that sounded like someone was wadding up aluminum foil. He always loved to talk, and would tell you secrets without even realizing it. It was for the reason that he became the chosen one to receive our calls.
“Good evening, this is Sabrina from the Teen Magazine Official Survey. May I please speak to your teenage son?” I inquired, a professional yet airy tone to my voice.
“Sure! MATTHEW! TELEPHONE!” His mother’s Southern accent added a few extra syllables to Matthew’s name. Hannah and I snickered quietly.
“Hey!” Matthew exclaimed as he picked up the phone, a friendly tone in his voice.
“Good evening, this is Sabrina from the Teen Magazine Official Survey. I’m just going to ask you a few questions. The results of this survey will be printed in the February issue of Teen Magazine. Please answer honestly. Shall we begin?” I was proud of myself. This time, I actually sounded real.
“Sure!” Matthew replied, with such eagerness it almost caused me to start laughing again.
“Alright. What is your age?”
“Twelve,” he replied, hardly missing a beat.
“Great! Have you ever had a successful date with a female before?”
“Uh, define ‘successful’,” Matthew responded slowly.
“Ummmm, ummmmmmmm,” I stuttered, not prepared for improvisation.
“Did you get back together after the first date?” Hannah said loudly. I felt relieved, until I realized just how strange we sounded. I was the only one who should be talking!
“Listen, I’ve never really, uh, gone out with anyone before. No one has had a mutual attraction to me,” Matthew said the words he wasn’t sure of meticulously, and still stammered.
“Excuse me,” I replied, and put down the phone, not being able to control myself any longer.
“I don’t see what’s so funny! I just want to get this survey over with!” Matthew exclaimed indignantly. His ignorance caused us to laugh harder. I snorted.
“I don’t appreciate you taking my time for this!” This was too much. We had to get rid of the source of our laughter, or else I felt like I would explode. I put the phone on its cradle, my hand shaking. From then on, Matthew would provide an outlet for our calling “creativity”.
To us, prank calling was almost like a drug—it gave you a high that nothing could compare to, but left you addictive for more. It seemed that all Hannah and I did together was call guys, which at the time seemed like an excellent idea. What harm could come of it? We never meant to hurt anyone, we were just dependent on his innocence and confusion to make ourselves happy.
“Hi. Matthew?” I asked, the words I had said dozens of times naturally rolling off my tongue.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering…” The same routine was about to begin again. Hannah twirled her hair in her finger, a smile beginning to dance across her make-up covered face.
“Listen, aren’t you that person who’s been prank calling me?!” Matthew yelled. Hannah and I exchanged panicked glances. This had never happened before.
“Uh…”
“I know it’s you, and I’m…I’m…I’m darn tired of this! So STOP CALLING ME!” Click.
“Call him back!” Hannah shouted at me. I hit redial as quickly as I could. It rang once, and Matthew picked up the phone.
“What?”
“Matthew? Look, we’re sorry…I mean, I’m sorry, and, uh, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Wait a minute! Is there more than one of you?”
“Uh, yeah…” Hannah said in the background.
“Hey, who was that? I want to talk to her!”
“OK…I guess…” Hannah said, surprised, and took the phone from my outstretched hand.
“Just one thing. No fibbing, OK?” Matthew’s voice was barely audible, being pressed hard against Hannah’s ear.
“No fibbing. I’m Hannah.” I looked over to Hannah with my mouth wide open. What was she doing? Anonymity was what prank calls were all about. How could she just reveal her true identity like that? I slowly turned my head away, but could still hear the cheerfulness of their conversation. For once, I was the silent one, the listening one. It felt good.
Hannah and Matthew talked for an hour. It took me a quarter of that time to realize that people will enjoy you more if you be yourself, and not trick them with deception. Although you probably won’t laugh as hard, you will definitely laugh as much when you have a real conversation instead of a fake one. I know Hannah did. In time this experience strengthened our friendship, because we both realized just how stupid we had acted. Still, if you receive a call with giggling in the background, humor us. We appreciate it.
Lessons.
youknowwho417: would you care to know how to pimp?
BelialMan69: hahaha
BelialMan69: sure
youknowwho417: alright. it will be described in a step by step process.
BelialMan69: Let me get a pen!
youknowwho417: 1)obtain a vehicle
youknowwho417: 2)put on music with lots of bass--usually anything 96.9 or 97.5 does the trick.
BelialMan69: hmmm
youknowwho417: i prefer 96.9. it is "la ley", the latino station.
BelialMan69: I might rather shoot myself
BelialMan69: will rush work?
BelialMan69: I just got a new cd
youknowwho417: or we could turn on 106.1
BelialMan69: heheh
BelialMan69: that'll work
youknowwho417: alright. i will continue.
youknowwho417: 3)turn on the music very loudly so that the car vibrates
BelialMan69: okay
youknowwho417: 4)roll down all of the windows
BelialMan69: can do
youknowwho417: 5)bob your head like you're the hottest egg in the frying pan
BelialMan69: gotcha
youknowwho417: and occasionally wiggle your arms.
youknowwho417: the wiggling is optional, of course.
BelialMan69: hmm
BelialMan69: can't quite visualize it
youknowwho417: oh. well you will soon learn.
youknowwho417: if there's a will, there's a way.
BelialMan69: there certainly is a will
Hmm. I received my course schedule for the next year. Check out the goodness:
1-AP English III (Schmitz)
2-AP US History (Newmark)
3-AP Calculus AB (Felder)
4-Health (Talley)
5-Honors Latin III (Stapleton)
6-Drama IV (Rasnick)
As long as I can survive the first two and a half hours of the day, classes should be a breeze. Still, I can't help thinking that I should have taken either AP Biology, Astronomy, Advanced Psychology, or AP Psychology instead, and saved Health for my senior year. Suggestions? It's not too late to change courses! Help me out, kiddos. Plus, if I make adjustments in my schedule, I could save myself from the madness of the three-APs-first-thing-in-the-morning blues.
Leave a comment if you have any advice on the situation, or if we have some of the same classes.
Also, I got the Franz Ferdinand CD today. HOTTNESS.
Bang on pots and pans! Capitilism has gone horribly wrong! Teens are selling their virginity on the Internet! Apparently David Vardy, a nineteen year old Bournemouth University student, is selling his virginity online--and bids has reached over six thousand pounds. Although originally Vardy placed his offer on (where else?) Ebay, and received over 7,000 hits, it was removed of obscene content. Always being resourceful, however, Vardy created his own website to aid in his quest for the highest bidder.
How does Vardy feel about the moral stance of his proposition? "I'm not selling myself for sex repeatedly like a prostitute," Vardy said. "And the money issue is simply there to put back the losers and make sure that only serious bidders are interested in this. I want to protect my own safety, to be honest. … I was in this from the start to lose my virginity, and I'll see it through. So, I'm going to accomplish that if it's the last thing I do." Let's hope the winning bidder is at least somewhat attractive...for poor Vardy's sake. You never know what kind of rich psychos are lurking out there.
HBO will start production at the end of the summer on a new musical starringOutKast. The musical will encompass a few old OutKast songs, as well as several new ones, and will certainly be a full length singing, dancing showcase. OutKast on Broadway next, perhaps? And yes, the musical will have a plot--it's scripted as "A drama that takes place in a Speakeasy in the South during the '30s Prohibition era. Andre 3000 is the house piano player, while Big Boi will play the lead performer and manager, who's trying to stave off gangsters who want to get their hooks into the place."
This could be quite interesting.
The beach was a bit chilly; it was windy and cloudy most of the time with few opportunities for swimming, but I became very adept in the art of flying kites.
Now, I'm home and getting ready to receive some cosmetic surgery.
It's just a laser treatment, don't worry. Life is delicious.
Don't you just love summer?
Twas a clear and starry Saturday night....
and I have returned as guestspeaker to Bethany's blog. I am sorry to say that this might very well be my last appearance due to the fact that I will be leaving tomorrow for Boys State. Even though I was just saying hello in our last conversation, I must say goodbye in this one. Short lived yes, but at least it lived.
I apologize that I have not observed the world for you. Maybe I can think of something...well I went to Carowinds yesterday, and did you realize that water is free?? They hide the fountains and only post soft drink prices that are out the wazoo...but all you have to do is wait in line as ask for a water, and walaa, they give you your very only coca-cola sponsored cup with ice and all! For Free!! Just goes to show you that it never hurts to ask. That is one lessons that I bet bethany learned overseas...what I mean is, that here in America we take the opportunity to gain endless knowledge for granted... I bet if you go to a foreign speaking country, and are lost and just want to find some food or sleep, that not knowing how to ask the man right in front of you where the bathrooms are would drive you insane. The most essential knowledge as that, and you would give anything just to know the right words... when back in the good ole US of A, we are too afraid to ask if they have a shirt in our size just because we don't feel comfortable.... ask the kid who goes to a foreign country if he was uncomfortable
well with that, I have realized that everything i have just said has mad no sense whatsoever, I obviously have not succeeded in being a successful blogger, which is why I do not have my own page
I will tell you what I do know... Dad's are great, tomorrows Fathers Day, so everyone tell your dad you love em.
I also know that relationships can be the most confusing things ever...but when you have as good of times as I had tonight w/ my girlfriend, you realize that it's all been worth it.
Faith, Hope, and Love -and the greatest of these is Love
This is Cameron Cooper-signing off
cameronco@hotmail.com
dafunkymonkeyguy
Ladies and gentleman, I'm here, I'm here, let the bells ring out and the banners fly, because I'm here... Im here!
My name is Cameron Cooper and I will be yalls honored guest speaker for the next coupla days in my dear friend Bethany's absence. I first must say that it was quite an honor being asked to take this position. I can only hope that my words enlighten everyone just even half as much as Ms. Hill's. First of all, I'll do a little more introducing myself. I'm the ripe age of 17, and will be a senior at Randleman High right smack dab in the middle (reall in the middle, like beside the Zoo, the exact center) of the great state of NC. I met Bethany at the Youth Legislative assembly back in April, I believe was the month, maybe March. We met at the elevator, and the first thing that struck me about her was that she spent time in France as an exchange student, so I knew she wasn't your average cookie. We didn't talk too much more at the conference, but somehow we met up on the great communication system known as American Online Instant messenging Service. And since, our friendship has blossomed, and she has listened and given indispensable advise on mostly my love life. I have attempted to returned he favors, but I think I do most of the talking and asking of questions.
But anyways, back to me, haha. Just so yall know who will be the man behind the screen, I'm very in love with Jesus, I'm ranked 1st in my class, I'm an Eagle Scout, I work the church soundboard, I'm retired from soccer, I run varsity cross country and track, I wakeboard, I kayak, I sail -my "Seaclusion", I backpack, I play guitar -both acoustic and electric, and I have a girlfriend, a pretty awesome, just in case anyone was wondering.
I went to Myrtle Beach last week, will be going to Boys State next week, NC state the next week, Alaska the next week, quaker lake camp the next week, back to QLC to work as an assistant the next week, maine the next week, and one week off before school, what fun!
Gosh...well, this will be my first real post in any online journal system, so I just wanted to give everyone a heads up on who I am before I start observing the world on paper, or screen, so until next time....
my Aim sn is dafunkymonkeyguy if anyone wants to talk, by the way
this the Cameron Cooper.... signing off
So over this summer, ye olde blog has gotten some new features. One of my favorites is that of guest bloggers! That's right, folks, this blog is opening up to the PEOPLE. Not just the usual RCHS crowd either--say hello to various kids from all over the East Coast. These uber special posts will begin shortly and continue randomly throughout the summer. Watch out world.
Also, if you are interested in posting, feel free to drop me a line. I'll be needing individuals to guest blog all summer.
Thanks.
This evening, Bekka and I visited Super Target.
Click Here for pictures.
Taking Environmental Science online is entertaining, in that kinky drudging way. We have to meet three times a week for live chat session, and one of the kids in my class is hilarious. He talked about how he had to miss sessions on Wednesdays because he has an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Also, he enjoys commenting in Japanese--and although the instructor responds disapproving to his comments, I find his presence in the class particuarly amusing.
Another plus is that the course is quite easy in general--except for the great amount of busy work. Coming from the fact that at my high school, we are accustomed to everything but, the bevy of worksheet assignments are slowly becoming very annoying. We are given an average of twelve assignments a week--but each one has topics like "Write a paragraph about what environmental stewarship means". Yawn. Most likely, these assignments will only become difficult when I simply run out of information to regurgitate--or when I lose utter motivation to complete them.
The class lasts for four weeks, and will soon become tedious. Luckily, I've got musical theatre performances, a trip to the beach, and a rendezvous at Hershey Park to keep my interest peaked in other areas. Besides, doing schoolwork during the summer is fun, right? And hey, this means I get to skip a year of science classes! Hopefully, this won't be too arduous; where else can I listen to music, check my email, and talk on IM while I'm "in class"?
The Cellular Phone
against the tide he
wipes the foam across the
periwinkle and simmons
pressing the hairs around his ankles
as her dress is beaten back
submitting to the wind
the closeness between air and skin
shapes the forms of her thighs
linen whipping through the sky
she smiles as if watching him dance
could content her through days of soap-operatic bliss
through hazy screens and diminuative televisions
seen in ungodly hours between pornography and automobiles
come share the wonderment and excitability
the vacation
pruning her eyes
she screams
opens her arms and extends her hands outwards
with a subtle wiggle of the fingers and joints
he welcomes her smile with audacity
demurely they race
sharp legs cantering awkwardly through the waves
until suddenly the moment ends
like a plastic god knawing upon cotton
enveloping the hearts of mice and men
all the happiness exploded into a silence
her eyes cursing with the chorus of pressure and water
the feeble ring from his khakis
screams for attention
like its moment could cheerfully bring upon such happiness
too easily can such subtle objects
make themselves known.
From the East to West Coast comes The Postal Service, two men from separate bands that create music by the mail--and never really meet! Death Cab for Cutie's lead singer Ben Gibbard, along with electronica artist Jimmy Tamborello, have created a sort of fusion of a variety of music styles that is completely indistinctive and yet hauntingly catchy. What's fascinating about The Postal Service is that all songs were recorded onto a CD--Tamborello would send a few new techno songs each month to Gibbard by mail, whereupon Gibbard would add traditional instruments (guitar, bass, drums) along with vocals. The music reminds me of a videogame soundtrack, combined with a techno dance party, and a new pop hit. It's so different from every other form of musical artisanship out there--The Postal Service should be not overlooked.
I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly. you will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with
The windows down when this is guiding you home
--excerpt from Such Great Heights
Coming soon!
(with a special appearance by a blue man)
Wouldn't this be a fun show?
So I get out of dance class thirty minutes early so that I may attain a driver's license, only to discover that the Avent Ferry DMV requires a Social Security card before any kind of procedure is administrated. Apparently this policy was enacted January 1, 2002. Too bad the Wendell, Garner, or Capital Boulevard DMV locations don't ask for a card. Hmmm.
Someone commented today that I am the most optimistic person they know. Despite this so-called optimism, however, I can't help feeling like the world isn't so full of jollies after all.
The Associated Press reports on how an Australian man scared off a shady gang of robbers by faking an epileptic seizure. Apparently, this man, Tom Beckett, was lured by two beautiful women into a dark alley, when five men jumped out from nowhere and took the poor man hostage. Once the robbers began to ask the Beckett for his ATM card's PIN number, he began to pretend to have a seizure. "The robbers tried to treat him by pouring water over him and massaging his chest -- but only after taking his watch and cash", the Post reported. Because of the concern for the "poor man", the robbers escorted Beckett out, who was completely unharmed.
I remember in eighth grade, some friends of mine were attacked near the CAT bus station on their way to school. Apparently, one of my friends started "freestyling" to intimidate his attacker, and the technique worked. The poor robber was too creeped out by my friend's "ghetto" performance that he left him alone.
Also, I'm in a musical theatre conservatory program for the next two weeks, as well as taking Environmental Science courses online. Thus, I'll be in town, but don't expect a great abundance of posting.
The epitome of sexy:
It's an Ibanez Gio, (GSR200JB) in Jewel Blue. There's a faint purple hue in a certain light, but the color is just gorgeous. I wiped down that bass so well, you can see your face in it.
Here I am posing for a glamour shot. (Notice how my hands look like they're playing but really they're uncoordinated! Whooaaa!)
The amp: A Fender Bassman 25--at 33 pounds, it's one third of my weight, and definitely pure excitement. I won't be carrying it up stairs again anytime soon, though.
Summer just got a whole lot better.
My dad was a cool guy in college, methinks.
Daddy on left; some dude named Jim Cleary (looks eerily like Warren) on the right.
I have lost faith in long-term teenage relationships completely. (To clarify: "long term" constitutes a mutually exclusive compromise that takes place over the course of at least a year, sometimes longer.) It's not that these sorts of connections between two individuals are a bad thing, they just do not exist. Everyone whom I know that may be in one has either not been entirely faithful (some of the other parties involved are still oblivious to that fact), become completely powerless, or lost a great deal of who they are.
Each second, we become another person. We are constantly learning and growing, changing at irregular rates that spiral through our personalities, our appearance, and our inner nature. As a moment progresses, we find ourselves a bit smarter--if not a bit wiser--than before. We learn from our mistakes and consequently, are able to see the world from a slightly shifted perspective. Yet because all of us are constantly in these stages of development, we also subconsciously change our emotions about particular objects, including other people. Although the time that it takes our affections to make a complete one hundred and eighty degree change can vary, it will eventually happen. Count it as growth, kiddos.
The problem is when the clock swings 360 degrees, a complete change back to the beginning. Physics and common sense teach us that time cannot stop, and logically, it progresses at the same rate infinitely. However, our own personal emotions do not function on this same principle--we cannot always control them, but can realize that repetition can occur in different forms. Some people believe that our lives constantly are just a series of endless circles, all on different planes, rotating infinitely with different rates and velocities. It's up to you to figure out upon which rate your life is circling.
For Barrett
Italy has outsmarted us again!
Ananova reports that a small Italian town has recently opened a love car park, where amorous couples can safely park without fear of prosecution. "Mayor Giancarlo Faenzi claims 90 per cent of local residents have made love in a car at least once", the article reports. The 172-space love car park even has trash cans close by...those Italians have thought of everything.
When I was a little kid, I would wonder if there really was a true, honest to goodnes "Lover's Lane" around here. Alas, this seems not to be the case.
Over the next few days, I'll be doing a bit of housekeeping among the blog; today I established a new section of links for rising high school sophomores, alphabetized all the links, and added some javascript in the Sitemeter (you can't see it though). Be sure to expect a possible new color scheme, and more links, as I'm constantly on the lookout for new blogs and other developments in the recent world.
Also, let your attention be directed underneath the chatter, where you will see that I have a Livejournal. This is a space for posts that are either deeply personal (and normally marked friends only) or extremely trivial (such as quiz results and chain-letter surveys). However, this site still continues to display the best content.
A large percentage of referrals come from search engines, because this page has a large number of hits--and thus a larger page rank, because a large percentage of referrals come from search engines, etc. This cycle quite benefits me, especially since some of the searches are for very odd things. Witness:
--thee dollhouse
--SLA women who love too much
--existensialism
--History
--male erotic
--where the wild things are food
--Maddy Angus
--Bethany Hill canada canadian Framingham farm schools Winchester uh houston cougar
--english version O
--cons of condom dispensers
--Terpsichorean Debutante
Weird.
Tonight, I was basking in camaraderie. At precisely 7:25 in the evening, seven close friends and I viewedShrek 2, which included many oppertunities for us to dance. If you wish to partake in the pleasure of that movie, be sure to bring clothes sufficient for dancing. Also, Prince Charming in Shrek 2 eerily resembled a friend of mine. The movie was quite brilliant and I highly reccommend it, especially to fellow teenage folk.
Afterwards, we conducted shopping cart races in a parking lot outside of a shopping center (Chris and I won!) and bought eighty ounces of ice cream. What else are teenagers supposed to do on a Monday night?
Any individuals interested in participating in a background chorus for a future melody discussing the analogy between highways and the ocean, let me know.
June's been here for forty three minutes. As for the other thousands, I'm determind to make the most of them.