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May 9, 2008
Testing an Old Site.
Echo!... echo.... echo...
March 30, 2003
Hm.
If you haven't caught on yet, my new site is here:
http://patreesha.rocks.it or http://patreesha.interalia.org
:D
5-9-2008 Edit: Actually, you can find me easily at www.patreesha.com!
March 3, 2003
Howdy
The sole reason why I'm posting today is because the date is:
03/03/03.
That is all. Site is coming soon.
Goodnight.
March 2, 2003
Well, if you didn't notice, my site is dying once again.
I'm either going to move to Phil's or Dave's to get back on track.
I have some new ideas in mind.
So stick around.
February 17, 2003
Egg Foo Young
In Health class, we divided up into pairs ("couples") and received an egg baby.
Matthew and I are the proud parents of Bobbi Su Changman, seen below.
click me!
If there was any doubt in the first place:
Yes, I'm a bigger loser than you.
February 14, 2003
Tiny Nuggets and Tinny Music of Love
Isn't it funny how when the dentist tells you that you're not allowed to eat for the next hour, it seems like the longest, hungriest hour of your entire life?
I spent about 3 hours in the waiting room of the dentist's office and roughly 15 minutes actually in the chair with some nervous woman picking at my teeth like it was the last night on earth.
Then, I waited for my mom.. It took three shots of novocaine before they could finally put her out of her misery for a filling.
The three hours of waiting time was not misspent, however, as I read through about a dozen National Geographic Magazines from 2001, and also a few Highlights magazines.
Man.
The people that write Highlights must be high on something. Their stories are so. Weird.
Example: The Timbertoes (a cartoon about wooden Pinnochio-like puppets or something):
Dad and Mom are making presents.
Sister is making presents, too.
Chip goes outside with the dog to find things to make presents with.
They find lots of branches, twigs, and leaves.
Chip goes out to play with the dog.
Uh oh! Here's a hungry goat!
Where did all the presents go?
What? A hungry goat??
Those Highlights people.....
Halfway through a very graphic article in National Geographic August 2001 about walruses, the door burst open, allowing an overly brisk wind and a large, sweaty, fat man wearing short sleeves (it must have been 0 degrees outside) to enter.
He waddled in, gasping for air, and plopped into the seat next to mine.
Startled, I whipped my head back and forth, from the pictures of walruses to the man, comparing, contrasting, contemplating.
They looked exactly the same.
I was sitting next to a human walrus.
After a surprisingly short time of probably two and a half minutes, in which I studied him scrutinously for evidence of his walrus tusks and thick, waterproof skin, the man fell asleep with his five chins resting on top of his own massive chest, snoring contently.
It was a very cute sight, watching this probably 500 pound man, squished into a tiny leather chair, sleeping in his own filth, tiny Cheez-Nips crumbs rattling in his moustache.
Then the funny-looking immigrant guy on the other side of the waiting room squirmed in his chair for a bit before emitting the loudest, scariest fart I have ever heard in a public place.
I love the dentist's office.
What a big waste of time.
Hmm........
Well, anyway,
Happy Valentine's Day!
February 9, 2003
Bi-Curious George
KEVlNCORRlGAN: blaaaaaaaaa
spinkies55: oh my god
KEVlNCORRlGAN: ?
spinkies55: my
spinkies55: anal lovehole
KEVlNCORRlGAN: is it broken?
spinkies55: i feel like i've been raped
KEVlNCORRlGAN: why?
spinkies55: my cheeks
spinkies55: they've been spread open like peanut butter on bread
spinkies55: it hurts
spinkies55: i'm all bruised
spinkies55: my wrists hurt too :/
KEVlNCORRlGAN: what happened?
spinkies55: owww
spinkies55: i can't even sit
KEVlNCORRlGAN: did you have butt sex?
Yes, yes I did have butt sex... with an enormous mountain.
I went snowboarding today.
Let me tell you, for those of you who have never gone:
DO NOT GO SNOWBOARDING. STAY HOME. STAY DRY AND WARM. DO NOT EVEN ATTEMPT IT.
I think the best part was being able to wear these cool ski goggles..
There were way too many little kids that I was afraid of pummeling into on the way down, so I'd make kamikaze dives into the snow to save them at the expense of my own life.
Fucking kids.
I should've knocked into a few of them just to teach them a lesson.
Oh, my sweet, tender, soft lovehole. :(
Also. IT IS HARD TO GET UP after you fall on your butt and wrists the entire day.
However, if you have good balance, and are not slightly retarded as I am, perhaps you will not suffer the same fate as I did.
Many a time I just lied in a pile of snow, motionless, whining, "JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE ALONE, GO ON WITHOUT ME!"
Ow.
The first few times I went down the mountain, when I fell, I just hurt my bum a bit, and fell hard on my hands, but the last few times I went, I somehow slid sideways on my butt, and my one cheek would skid down the snow, totally stretching and hurting my secondary lovehole.
I feel like this has been my first night in prison with my new best friend: a large, well-endowed black inmate named Big Tommy Knockerz.
It felt like someone was tattooing a DaVinci on my tender poopchute with turkey baster-sized tattoo needles.
It is the most awful pain you could ever, ever imagine.
And there's nothing you could even do about the horrible, paralyzing pain except kinda cry about it a little and ask people who aren't wearing enormous incapacitating ski gloves to pick your horrendous wedgie while you're down.
A few times, I just wanted to lie in the snow and pretend I was dead.
Then maybe someone would call the paramedics, and I would be taken down the mountain on a stretcher with some dignity, instead of tumbling head over heels, hurting my tender, precious bum, and crushing my kibbles and bits...
The food was good though, but I wonder if it was worth a Jackson (Is Andrew Jackson on a 20 dollar bill?) plus 14 cents for burgers, fries, and a coke.
But that's life, that's the U.S. economy for you.
And all of the french fries in the world can not remedy my poor precious bum.
It's totally frustrating.
Before I went, I told myself that I wouldn't cry like a baby.
After the third time I started crying like a baby, I said FUCK YOU WORLD.
I went inside and asked for a refill for my 3 dollar foam cup of Diet Coke.
They said "No."
Fuck you, mountain.
Fuck you, overpriced crazy people.
Fuck you, stupid 4 year old skiiers that are better than I am.
There's me riding off into the sunset, and into the trees.
Yeap.
Yeap yeap yeap.
Welp.
Thanks Anthony for the .. unforgettable day out at Mountain Creek.
Thanks, you sadistic bastard.
Hurtling down a mountainside on a small piece of plastic, smashing into little kids on skis.....
Seriously, people do this for FUN?!
February 8, 2003
You're different and that's bad.
I had an alumni interview for Harvard this afternoon. My interviewer was an incredibly nice, older gentleman by the name of Mr. Schivell.
I told myself that I wasn't nervous, but I could tell by the fact that my armpits were soaking wet that I was actually very, very nervous indeed.
The first part started off a bit bumpily, since I wasn't sure what he had or had not already found out about me from my application. It turned out that the answer was 'absolutely nothing.' So we had to just get to know each other from scratch.
Now here's where it gets weird.
For some reason, we started talking about teddybears.
Teddybears.
Mind you, Mr. Schivell was part of the Class of '63, and estimating that he spent a good 4 years or so in Harvard starting from when he was 18 in the year 1959, that would make him about 62 years old.
The last five to ten minutes or so of our hour-long interview consisted of us talking about his Gund teddybear collection, and how he wants to write a book about them. Having never actually seen a Gund teddybear, I requested such a privilege.
Much too excited to oblige for his own good, he jumped up and stumbled up the stairs, shouting,
"NOW I DON'T DO THIS FOR ALL THE APPLICANTS!!"
and I could hear his footsteps clobbering around upstairs as I waited awkwardly down on the couch below.
And oh my god.
Mr. Theodore (I think that was his name? The line is called "Mr. Snuffles") was SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!
Oh man. This 62 year old man must have the (THE) best teddybear collection in the WORLD.
Up until this point I had been holding in 60 minutes and 27 seconds of coughing; I was just getting over an awful cold, and was so proud that not even the tiniest cough had escaped throughout the entire interview.
And then I was overcome by an unbelievable coughing fit, and I think I grossed him out while I hacked and hawed, voice filling up with mucus, atmosphere filling up with microorganisms destined for his own lungs.
Oh well.
It's not like I want to go to Harvard anyway.
February 6, 2003
Why can't Mr. Fork and Ms. Electrical Outlet be friends?
[Disclaimer: I may or may not have posted something very very similar to this article elsewhere online. If you have seen this already, move along. :)]
Ah... a delicious sight to see..
lots of fat girls who very visibly wear microscopic thongs.
I'm usually not one to make a consciencious effort to jump on any bandwagons, but after seeing so many little triangles of lace, embedded between two enormous cheeks, peeking out from every girl's waistband, I knew I had to see if thongs were all that they're cracked up to be.
So, here we have Exhibit A and Exhibit B, picked meticulously out of the filthy bargain bin at Wet Seal:
 
Upon trying them on, I experienced a... not-incredibly comfortable... feeling.
Like flossing your cheeks with..... buttfloss.
So I secretly threw them in the wash (my mom would probably turn purple if she knew I own any thongs) and decided to explore:
The Exciting New World of Alternate Uses of Thongs!!!!!!
A comfy mini hammock, a slingshot to propel Snuggles into large hammock full of animalia, or a parachute!
  
Wait! It gets better!
Got a nose job? Or something just smell funny? Recover with style!
Want to look like skatta? (Who doesn't!) Or, want to complete that Amish Peasant costume?
Pop one of these babies on your head!
 
Voila!
Those T-shirt Ninjas, man, those are like, SO last year!
This year it's all about the Thong Ninjas!!!
  
Remember the sideways visor look that is so HIP and DOWN in da 'hood?
  
Awwwwwjea! Yo yo yo!
Need an eyepatch? Or feeling.. ARRRRRRoused?
 
Thongs work in a pinch!
Also, it is a tasty snack!
The End.
P.S. I'm sorry.
Daddy drinks because you cry
Ah.... Health class.
How I missed the 1/2 semester of failed body building majors (a.k.a. gym teachers) screaming and blowing whistles at us.. in a classroom.
Clad in their festively colorful stretch-pants with the classic fem-mullets, Ms. Lags and Ms. Mulvey liven up the class with talk of STDs, contraceptives, and date rape (when "NO" means "YES!").
Today, we had to fill out a packet detailing various contraceptive devices..
Adam called across the room of 65 people, "MALLORY! WHAT'S A CERVICAL SPONGE?"
Mallory is the slightly stumpy, slightly rounded, very slutty girl who wears very, very, very small, microscopic clothes.
"I'M NOT GOING TO YELL TO YOU ABOUT IT ACROSS THE ROOM!" she replied, yelling to him about it across the room.
Adam looked at Ms. Mulvey and complained,
"It's not fair! Mallory's going to get a 100 because she's a big SLUT."
A hush fell across the room.
Someone coughed, another person dropped their pencil, both which resounded like gunshots.
The girl sitting next to Adam (whose breath always smelled like shoe polish) fainted, fell out of her chair, and started to choke on her tongue.
Ah... Health class.. how I've missed you.
February 1, 2003
Going back to medieval times..
My dad's the best plumber in the world.
Well, upon trying to fix a drippy, leaky shower, my dad somehow shut down all of the running water in the entire house.
We have no running water.
Well, I guess that's not entirely true, but whenever you have to flush the toilet, you have to go downstairs into the broom closet and pull up this big lever.. and when you flush, the shower upstairs runs like crazy.
Hm.
So, we're reverting back to the old times, where we have a big tub of water and a little ladle to scoop it out..
Yeah, we're pretty ghetto....
My dad's also the best gardener..
We have no front lawn..
Once, when he was trying to cut down a tree in our backyard (for no apparent reason, really..), he succeeded, only to crush two apple trees we had just planted, killing them both.
On a separate topic, here's Luigi!
 
 
Yup. Alright, I'm going back to sleep..
January 26, 2003
Actually.
Actually, I've spent my 18th birthday
sitting at home alone,
watching part of the Super Bowl,
not laughing at the lame commercials,
and sitting at the computer feeling pretty lonely.
Where's the part where my friends pop out and yell
"Surprise!"
and
a stripper
in a cop
costume
pops out of a
cake and
lets me
handcuff
him?
Dammit.
It's MY cotdamned party
Well, my birthday's just about an hour through, and it's already the best one ever.
<3 I love my poopybear :*)!! <3
Okay.. so I'm 18 now.....
So what do I do now?
January 21, 2003
Ew. Ew. Ew.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
Ew. Ew.
Ew.
Upon looking into my refrigerator for a thick, fattening, oily snack of some sort, I decided on peanut butter on toast.
"No salt or sugar added!" screamed the yellow Peter Pan peanut butter jar. "VERY LOW SODIUM!"
Mmmm.. Healthy, I thought.
After I slowly and sensuously spread the creamy butter on my hot, toasty.. toast,
I licked the extra peanut butter off of the knife and...
AGHKCKKKK!!!!
SUGAR/SODIUM FREE PEANUT BUTTER IS LIKE LICKING A SOILED DIAPER!!!!!!
A. SOILED. DIAPER.
Soiled.
Diaper.
(Poop.)
Ew.
Yeah, I know what YOUR secret ingredient is, Peter!
(Poop.)
Ew.
[Note: This post may be the most retarded one I've ever done. Ever.]
January 18, 2003
Noodlemania Time!!!
Aw man.
I'm so, so, SO hardcore Japanese noodle.
I just made my mom and myself some traditional Japanese style noodles,
some julienned spring onion,
with julienned red pepper,
a touch of poached egg,
hot chickeny soup,
and NOODLES!!
MMMMph!
And, we ate it together in front of the TV,
while watching a Japanese comedy about...
............
.... JAPANESE-STYLE NOODLES!!!!
:D Mmmmmmmmmm!
Awwwwwjea, I'm so fucking hardcore noodley!
Pineapple Time!!!
I HAVE THE BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER!!!!!!
Her name is Phyllis.
I LOVE YOU PHYLLIS!!!!!!!!!
:*)
Happy 8th month Anniversary, A&P!!!!! <3
:*) I love you!!
I LOVE EVERYONE!
(Even stinkyhead Yasmeen!)
WHEEE!
P.S. Jakeypoo is back!!!
January 17, 2003
ACK! A BUG JUST FLEW IN MY EYE I THINK!
Okay, on with the post.
Find Adam a Girlfriend!!!!
Adopt-A-Highway.
Save the Whales.
Blah blah blah.
Let's Find Adam a Girlfriend!
In Spanish class today, Laurie found a note on my desk that was so, so, so very pathetic and awfully sad.
It said,
"I wish that some girl liked me because of who I am. But I am too small and unpop-ular and I
- Adam"
AWWWWW!!!! POOR ADAM!!!!
Don't worry, Adam, whoever you are.. we'll find you a girlfriend!
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!
If you are about 4 to 5 feet in height, and interested in helping a small, unpopular freshman boy, who is most likely very whiny, clingy, and desperate, help this kid out!
I'm photocopying this note and posting this bad boy all over the school FOR HIS OWN GOOD.
Oh Adam, you fag.
You can thank me later.
:*)
January 7, 2003
Drugs are bad.
Today, we had a 90 minute assembly in which four convicts came from the county prison.
It was a good presentation, for a
"Drugs-are-bad-don't-mess-up-like-I-did-I-never-wanted-to-grow-up-to-be-a-junkie-I-wanted-to-be-a-lawyer-I-never-thought-it-would-happen-to-me" presentation.
The first guy, Martin, (who according to Anil, looked like Sinbad [he really did]), was arrested for armed robbery and was facing 10 years in prison. He told us about how he got into drugs and had two near-death experiences.
In one, his car window was shot out in a gang war.
In the other, while he was getting high on the roof of his middle school, he fell through the skylight, plunged 32 feet, broke his leg and back, and dropped a shit in his pants.
The second guy, Brian, who was also heavily involved in drugs, watched a friend of his beat up and rob another dude, and just for watching, got 10 years!
Messed up.
The last two, LaNelle and Alicia both had similar stories.. Alcohol, pot, cocaine, then heroin.. the former got 7 years, the latter got 18 years!
Eighteen years!
Wow.
Nice job being an idiot, idiots.
At the end of the assembly, our mildly-retarded Principal (whose initials, incidentally, spell the word "JAM"), who is supposedly a raving alcoholic, stood up, thanked the four inmates for coming, and addressed the student audience.
Here he is:
He said something to the effect of:
"The important thing here is to listen to your parents.
These people up here are GARBAGE.
I do not want any of you to become like these people.
They are not even worth 37 cents.
Now return to your classes."
Garbage?!?!
I mean, convicts, yes, but garbage? C'mon now.
I thought that was pretty malicious to say, not to mention stupid.
I mean, how would he feel if he were in their shoes?
I don't know.
Like I said before, it was a pretty stupid thing to say.
Those convicts must have felt pretty shitty.
Also, they are probably going to call up their homies and boyz and homefries and mothers and get them to blow up the JAMster's house or something. *
December 27, 2002
On a lighter note..
Let's take a vote.
Which one is cuter?
Subject A: Puppy in Comfy Bed
Or:
Subject B: Eman in Comfy Jacuzzi
It's a tough call.
Leave your opinion in the comments if you so desire.
:/
Poor doggies!!!
Peruvian army people are killing dogs as a part of their training..
And at the end, they have to tear out the dog's innards and eat the heart and drink the blood!
WHAT THE FUCK??
Read about it here....
:*(
P.S. Link by Dave.. :/
December 25, 2002
Yay.
YAY.
Thanks for the socks, mom.
THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER.
:/
Yay, Merry Christmas. Socks. Yay.
This is mildly like some kind of nightmare.
December 24, 2002
Oh, one more thing.
Just a thought before we stuff our faces with ham, turkey, stuffing, whipped cream, cranberry sauce, ice cream, apple pie, peach pie, blueberry pie, coconut cream pie (mmm, pie), casseroles, pasta, french bread, italian bread, garlic bread, breadsticks, wheat bread, white bread (mmm, bread), and all of the glorious, glorious food of the holidays:
Foot-sized Ethiopian baby says "Merry Christmas!"
:/
An Apple Pie, the Number Pi
An item that I had to find at CVS was called "Cookie Pie 3 Tier Candle Holder."
What the fuck IS that.
Well, as I was doing a few college applications last minute, being the procrastinator that I am, I realized that I sent out my Boston University applications to the wrong address.
The. Wrong. Address.
I tried emailing them, but got an auto-response saying that they'd be closed until after January 1st.
Guess when the application is due?
January 1, 2003.
Yeah..........
I'm definitely getting out of shape and becoming soft and mushy like a marshmallow peep from sitting on my butt for hours at a time, typing out these stupid fucking applications.
I tried to get out of my chair, and I think I pulled a muscle.
I don't think I remember how to ride a bike.
I don't think I can even run.
Those "yo mama's so fat" jokes are totally based on me personally.
Hehehe.
If you find the chance, download Ozma's "Apple Trees."
I once hated Ozma with a passion, but upon listening to this song, I think I may have to rescind that opinion.
Well, anyway, I hope you all have a Merry fucking Christmas tomorrow.
In conclusion, here's the answer to the question that stump so many non-asians.
You idiots.
Question: Hey, Chinese kid. How come you never open your eyes?
Answer: g'AACK!
Enjoy.
December 19, 2002
Oblivion.
[ This] is from Myke.
Have a great winter, chicos.
December 13, 2002
The Scary Fucking Creepy Old Man
Señor Font estaba ausente hoy, so we had a substitute teacher.
He was an old, large, fat man with a distinctly phallic nose, and I recalled his annoying verbosity and nasty disposition from a few months ago, when he was subbing for my Art III class.
He started up a conversation with a few of us, and told us that he is the Director of Admissions for Columbia University! He said that he already knew that I was deferred from UPenn, and that four others were rejected. So a few of us gathered around him in our little chairs, encircling this old man, who startlingly resembled the Penguin (from the second Batman movie) combined with a manatee.
So the old, bald, greasy man went on about the admissions process, described certain people he had interviewed (including "a beauty queen from Manasquan with long, natural blonde hair that would stop traffic," according to him), and just went on and on and on.
And slowly, as he continued to go from story to story, I realized that this man was entirely insane.
I realized that he probably was NOT the Director of Admissions for Columbia University.
In fact, he is most definitely just a lonely old man working as a substitute teacher at a second-rate high school in New Jersey.
I envisioned him living in a dilapidated shack in the woods, eating nothing but Cup-O-Noodles and driving around in his 1982 station wagon, complete with wood paneling.
Laurie, Yasmeen, and I made up a song.
Laurie goes: "Shack. Shack. Shack. Shack." -- in a quick, bass, techno beat.
Then I go into a tremolo of: "Cup-o-noodles-cup-o-noodles-cup-o-noodles."
And then Yasmeen intermittently interjects with: "Stationwagon. Wood paneling."
Over and over and over again.
I heard from Ashley later on in gym class that this old creepy substitute had quite a Storytelling Time with her class.
According to her, he claimed a number of things.
These are all obviously ENORMOUS LIES, including the following:
1. His leg was crushed by cement during 9/11 while he was visiting his daughter at the World Trade Center-- he just got off his crutches six months ago, and now he's spry as a jackrabbit.
2. He has three daughters that all look completely different. One is six feet tall. Another is two feet tall. The last is a poodle.
3. One of his daughters attends Harvard, and has a class with the valendictorian, who is the Prince of Malaysia.
...
The Prince of Malaysia.
Okay.
4. The Prince of Malaysia has a sister who is seven feet tall and is the first Malaysian in the history of the world to have naturally blonde hair.
THIS MAN IS INSANE.
I don't even think he's actually a real substitute teacher. I think he just snuck into our school, tied up our REAL bona fide substitute teacher and dragged him into a closet, kicking and screaming.
When Señor Font opens the closet door first thing Monday morning, he'll be greeted with a big surprise.
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