Well, It’s a Start
Posted on February 25th, 2010
I have gotten a ton of people lately asking lately where I was and when I was going to come back and start writing for Prokristenator.¹ Well, I’m back. No promises on future activity, but I’m here for now. And boy, do I have a lot to say.
Since my absence, I have gotten a job. I work wonderful hours, have awesome benefits, and make more money than I even know what to do with.²
So let’s give this another go, eh?
¹ Lie. Only my mother cares.
² I’m lying again. I work in fast food. It’s terrible. Believe me, I will have many words on this matter.
Your “Staggering” Facts Do Not Stagger Me
Posted on December 3rd, 2008
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people turn how much they manufacture of something into a measure distance. Instead of saying, “we produce forty million bags of chips annually” they’ll say something like: “we produce enough chips each year that if you layed them all out, they would reach to Mars and back!” So what? I probably shed enough hair each year to wrap around the Earth a couple of times, but why would I?
And who are the people figuring out all of these lame facts? I mean, I know it’s just a bit of simple math, but are they getting paid? I really hope not. Stupidest job ever.
Really, I don’t think anybody is impressed about how many football stadiums full of Pepsi is made each year, or that the average American consumes forty-five Twinkies each year.
So cut it out.
Lordy, Lordy, Look Who’s Forty!
Posted on November 11th, 2008
Happy birthday, mom. You are officially as old as dirt. Kidding, of course!
Did you know the year you were born, the 911 emergency telephone service emerged in Alabama? Did you know that it was the year George Dubya enlisted in the military? And on the day of your birth, A second republic was declared in the Maldives. Fasinating, isn’t it? Ah, 1968. What a year.
(The Beatles evidently did a lot that year, but I know you don’t care, and neither do I.)
Since you’re getting so old, I think you and dad should look into buying a house up North just so you can travel to Florida every winter. What do you think?
I should stop writing now. After all, you do have a J-O-B, right?
Bud Light Does Not Make You Prettier
Posted on November 3rd, 2008
Know what I hate? Girls who take pictures like this:
There’s a whole fleet of slores across the nation taking pictures like this, conveniently raising their beer bottles up to chin-level whenever a camera is near. And you know what they’re shrieking out of their nasty STD-laden mouths? “HI, WE REPRESENT YOUNG PEOPLE AS A WHOLE, AND WE’D LIKE TO MAKE IT QUITE CLEAR THAT WE ABSOLUTELY WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO HANDLE THE DRINKING AGE BEING LOWERED. PLEASE CONTINUE TO ASSUME THAT WE ARE ALL RECKLESS AND IRRESPONSIBLE. WANNA SCREW?!”
Really, seriously. Nobody is impressed by the fact that you are drinking. I promise you, no one is going to look at your slutty pictures and say, “Whoa! Look at that teenager drinking! That is so freaking cool.” No. It looks so ridiculous on so many levels. Wow, you’re drinking. How impressive and daring of you. DOUBLE FREAKING AWESOME COOL POINTS IF YOU HAVE PICTURES OF YOURSELF WITH A JOINT!!! Not.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude or anything, and I’m not opposed to underage drinking, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to have a million pictures plastered all over my Facebook, forever declaring every alcoholic drink I have. It looks absolutely stupid. SO CUT IT OUT.
It’s a Year-Round Christmas
Posted on October 23rd, 2008
Are you ready? Get ready. It’s coming. You can’t escape it. Animated Santa Claus machines are being placed at the entrances of Wal-Marts across America, demanding a hearty “ho, ho, ho” right at crotch level.
Seriously, get ready. You can already go ahead and look past Halloween, because there are more important things to worry about. You know what I’m talking about. Christmas is ringing your door bell, and you better answer.
Thanksgiving is a potentially amazing holiday, but it has been long overlooked - it is in almighty Christmas’ shadow! All poor Thanksgiving gets is a couple of sloppy turkey hands made by first graders with snot crusted on their shirt. Christmas gets lawn decorations costing hundreds of dollars, and movies with billion-dollar budgets. People don’t form mile-long lines in the mall to sit on the lap of some creepy old man dressed up as a Pilgrim, do they? No. We don’t even celebrate the anniversary of the nation as hard as we celebrate Christmas.
Don’t get me wrong - I love Christmas! I really do. But the joyous spirit in the air turns into a hazy smog by the time Christmas morning rolls around because it’s been trampled to death by businesses. Seriously, I hate to sound all anti-corporate and whatnot, but businesses start smothering us with Christmas-related commercials a good two months too early. It’s as if Christmas has turned into a two-month celebration starting the second Halloween is over.
I’ve seen Christmas decorations in stores as early as SEPTEMBER. WUT?! Really, Christmas is THAT big of a deal? I would give up any Christmas present I will ever receive for the rest of my life if I never had to see another department store Christmas commercial. If I never had to hear another radio station play non-stop Christmas songs. If I never, ever, ever again had to see houses leave their Christmas lights up until the beginning of Summer.
Something has got to be done about this. This year, Christmas is cancelled. It’s Kristenmas now, k thx.
The Bandwagon is My Favorite Mode of Transportation
Posted on October 19th, 2008
So, I’m a bandwagoner. Stamp it on my forehead, I don’t care. It’s the American way!
When I was in seventh grade, the Buccaneers were dominating football, and I began to care about a game that I had never watched in my entire life. I was so wrapped up in the success of my local football team, all I cared about getting for Christmas was a Bucs jersey. I watched games and pretended to know what was going on, all so I could cluelessly go along with my classmate’s discussions of games the following morning.
When they won the Superbowl, I was exstatic. Literally, if I could have painted a Bucs logo on my bedroom wall, I probably would have. And this is a game that to this day, I still know nothing about. And, most of the time, am perfectly content not caring about it, either.
And now with the Rays success, I find myself caring about baseball, previously my least favorite sport ever. I actually watch a game last night, and was thoroughly upset with the Rays lost. I genuinely hope they win the game tonight against the Red Sox, because that means they’ll be going on to the World Series. But what do I care, right? Aside from little league, I’ve never watched a game of baseball in my life.
But to me, it’s impossible not to cheer on “your” team when they do well. It’s all about the community coming together as one in victory. And all that other crap.
I don’t even know if I can still count on my fingers the number of teams and people I’ve cheered on while they were doing good, then completely didn’t care about the moment they were out of the spotlight. The Bucs, the Rays, the Lightening, my high school football team, Michael Phelps…
I think the reason people hop on the bandwagon is because when a sports team does good, people think of them as a representation of themselves. If you live in Boston, you don’t say “I hope the Red Sox tear it up tonight!” you say, “I hope we cream ‘em!” Suddenly, the whole city is playing the game. Everyone in the United States is Michael Phelps. The whole school is the football team. Fat, unemployed old men are wearing football jerseys and basking in the glory of “his” team. Nobody wants to live in the city with three professional sports teams that has never won anything - people want to be proud of their city, they want to share the success of the hard work the team has put in.
And, hey, what’s so wrong with that anyways?
A Confederate Rant
Posted on October 17th, 2008
So my school had this really good deal where a certain number of people could buy Halloween Horror Night tickets for five dollars, which is awesome, because tickets are usually priced around three billion dollars. Or, y’know, eighty. Anyways, if you buy tickets through the school, you have to take a bus with everyone else to the event.
Well, there’s really no room to complain when you’re getting such an awesome deal, but you also have to know that when you leave the event at one in the morning, there’s going to be a handful of retards that have no courtesy and are going to do things like sing and dance and hop up and down in the bus seat for the two hour drive home.
Unfortunately, last night on the way home from Halloween Horror Nights, there was no exception. Even though most people were quiet and sleeping, a group of people situated directly behind me proceeded to talk (as loud as they possibly could, mind you) about how anybody who does not like caramel apples is a nerd, and other drivel nobody should be subjected to have to know about.
And then this one really classy lady with the shrillest voice I have ever heard goes on to tell the entire bus, “this bus driver sucks, DUH, because it’s a Florida driver! ALL FLORIDA DRIVERS SUCK. All you Florida drivers are SO SLOW. OH MY GOD!” At this point, her shrill voice had nearly made my ears bleed so I nearly turned around and schooled her.
This is so irritating to me. I hate when the northerners come to school here and do nothing but complain about where they are. I’m POSITIVE there are plenty of schools just like this one in New York or Massachusetts or where ever else you’re from. You enjoy our weather? Then why don’t you come here for a short vacation in the summer or something, and NOT come to school here, where you’ll be immersed in all things Florida for roughly nine mouths of the year, for four years.
I’ve also heard students here say things like, “Oh my GOD, if I hear another person say ‘ya’ll’ or ‘ain’t', I’m going to hit somebody!” It really makes me want to give a presentation to everybody and be all, “Oh, hi, I don’t know if you’ve studied a map lately, but I’d like to point out that Florida is considered to be a part of the southern region of the US.” I’m sorry if our dialect differs from yours, but your complaining isn’t going to change the way we’ve been speaking for the past three trillion years. Get over it and go make yourself a cup of coiyfee, retard.
This Degree Just Ain’t For Me
Posted on October 13th, 2008
Today I was sitting in class, not completely paying attention to a demonstation of I don’t know what, and I realized that I need to change my major. Right now my major is Political Science, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it is an absolutely bogus degree, considering I have no real passion for politics.
“Many political science graduates pursue careers in government or public service, either as elected politicians, support staffers, or consulting analysts.”
Sorry, you are not a winner. None of this sounds appealing to me. You might as well tell me I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life copying words from the dictionary.
My initial decision to major in Political Science was fueled by a pipe dream of attending law school. And the only kind of lawyer I would ever be would be the kind of public attorney that criminals are assigned if they can’t afford anything better. And from my understanding, this kind of attorney hardly makes more than a teacher. Or a trash man.
And it’s not that I only care about money, but let’s get serious here. I’m packing on hundreds of millions of trillions of dollars of debt by going to my school. It doesn’t even make sense to be here, persuing a degree that holds none of my interest, so I can dump another five-freaking-trillion dollars into law school and become an attorney - which I only half-heartedly want to do anymore - to ultimately only be making about five cents a year. I’m exaggerating, of course, but you get the idea.
So at the moment, I’m thinking I should try my hand at a Criminal Justice degree, with a specialization in Criminalistics. I figure even IF I make about the same (or even slightly less) than I would have as an attorney, it doesn’t really matter, because I would have saved about $75,000 by not going to law school. Win all around.
Besides, my ultimate goal is to work and save up money for more or less a decade, then open a dog shelter/resort place. At least if I got a degree in Criminal Justice, I’d be learning about stuff that really interests me and then getting a really cool job, as opposed to be bored for the next quadrillion years before I can do what I really want.
And let me ask you this - what course sounds better: Body Fluids as Evidence, or American Federal Government? See, exactly. Criminal Justice wins all.
A Discussion About Priorities
Posted on September 25th, 2008
Some friends and I decided to go to a local laundromat earlier this week, because doing laundry here sucks. What a novel idea!
So we arrive at the lovely laundromat, and it’s located right by this trailer park that is filled with travel trailers that people actually live in, kids riding their bikes with no shoes on, and huge muddy puddles, which I’m guessing are used as swimming pools or something. The laundry facility has only three walls and houses a cat that is undoubtedly riddled with diseases. Honestly, I was a little taken aback by the whole thing, seeing as, you know, I’ve never been in a Third World country before or anything. The whole establishment did a pretty good job of epitomizing Florida as a whole, actually. I can only hope other parts of the country have these little pockets of filth, or else I’ll really be embarrassed to call this place Home.
Anyways, I was watching some shoeless kids ride around in dirty puddles and I notice this travel trailer that looks as though it wouldn’t even have a floor on the inside, and what do I notice? A nice, new 300 sitting in the “driveway.” Also, there was a satellite dish perched atop this wondrous dwelling! Now, I can sympathize with people that happen to be going through some rough times in life, but really? You live in a place that looks as though a slight breeze could blow it away, and you have a brand new, very expensive car? No. That doesn’t even come close to making sense. And satellite television? SERIOUSLY? My brain cannot even wrap around this. SOMEBODY EXPLAIN, PLEASE.
I’m never going back there, ever again. Not because it’s the kind of place that gives you herpes just by being near it, but because it cost me and Raisa nine freaking dollars to do laundry. Even though doing laundry at school hasn’t gotten much better, at least it’s free. And air-conditioned.
Pageant Kids
Posted on September 14th, 2008
You know what’s cute? A five-year-old with thick make-up, huge fake white teeth, and hair that’s been hairsprayed to stand towards the heavens. Regular five-year-olds?! Boring! Outdated! Show me a little girl whose mommy is trying to make her look twenty years older, and I will just be absolutely delighted.
Really, though, have you ever seen a little pageant kid? It’s a horrific sight! Why would any mother want to get their child into pageants? Because they want to? No, most of these kids start getting pushed into pageants before they can even talk. What do they do? Spell out “Mommy, I want to be a pretty pageant girl, please please please!!!” using Cheerios in their highchairs? No.
Look at her, she’s having a blast!
And there’s no way you can convince me that these pageant enthusiest mothers AREN’T trying to live vicariously through their daughters. Any prize money their daughters win by showing off their tiny body on stage in a sequined bikini? It just goes towards the gas money to get the superstar to the next show. College? Pft, these cute little girls aren’t going to need college! Especially not since they’re learning from such a young age that your superficial looks can get you ANYWHERE you want to be.
So keep trying, little girls! When you turn fourteen, your mom will FINALLY let you get that boob job. And if you really practice hard, you can become Miss BJ Queen 2015!