Life as a Teenage Chemistry Experiment

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Old, but still fantastic. March 27, 2008

Filed under: humorous — teenagechemistryexperiment @ 1:27 pm

A Message from John Cleese

To: The citizens of the United States of America :

In light of your failure to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately.Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas , which she does not fancy).

Your new prime minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a governor for America without the need for further elections.

Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

You should look up “revocation” in the Oxford English Dictionary.

1. Then look up aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You willbe amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

2. The letter ‘U’ will be reinstated in words such as ‘favour’ and’neighbour.’ Likewise, you will learn to spell ‘doughnut’ without skipping half the letters, and the suffix -ize will be replaced by the suffix -ise.
Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up ‘vocabulary’).

3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as “like” and “you know” is an unacceptable and inefficient formof communication.
There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell- checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter ‘u’ and the elimination of -ize. You will relearn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen.

4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you’re not adult enough to be independent.
Guns should only be handled by adults. If you’re not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you’re not grown up enough to handle a gun.

6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything  more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

7. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and this is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

8. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

9. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline)-roughly $6/US gallon. Get used to it.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.

11. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager.
South African beer is also acceptable as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting Nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer.They are also part of British Commonwealth – see what it did for them.

12. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters.
Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater.

13. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies). Don’t try Rugby – the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us. No more Orange Bowl, Rose Bowl, Cereal Bowl or Super Bowl. From now on….. get used to the World Cup.

14. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America . Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.

15. You must tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us mad.

16. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

17. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; strawberries in season.

God save the Queen.

Only He can.

John Cleese
be_a_lert_flickr.jpg

 

Today’s Post March 25, 2008

Filed under: humorous — teenagechemistryexperiment @ 10:45 pm

I bring to you a simple link to a webcomic as my post for today.

http://www.girlvspig.com/archives/her167.html

 

An Open Letter To a Very Confused Weather God March 24, 2008

Filed under: local — teenagechemistryexperiment @ 12:06 pm

Dear Georgia Weather,

W.T.F.

Look, I understand that global warming has you a little confused and all, but honestly? Make up your mind. Last week, you decided it’d be fun to throw some tornadoes at us. Now, I’m not saying it was nice, or even all that expected, but the thunderstormy aspect of it was pretty normal for weather this time of year. However, just a few minutes ago, I got a call from my friend who was driving home from work. I’m sure you’re aware of what you were doing, but for the sake of clarity and the expression of my absolute exasperation, I shall state it here. IT WAS SNOWING. I’ll give you some credit; It wasn’t sticking, nor was it that heavy. Nonetheless, the fact stands that it was snowing.

I’ve noticed this year that you have been having some trouble adjusting to normality. You have, for the past few months waffled between flurries and thunderstorms, 70 degree weather and 40 degree weather. But you were doing so well recently, sticking to thunderstorms, albeit some with a bit too much ferocity for my taste (I mean, weren’t the tornadoes and the huge hail a bit overkill?). However, today, you slipped up. It’s the day after easter, not very long after your little episode downtown, and it’s snowing.

Please, for the sake of my sanity, make up your mind. It’s spring now, and honestly, I’d like some stability with the weather.

Sincerely yours,

Rachel

Confused weather makes confused shaddows

 

Crazy cabbageish tranvestite sanity. March 23, 2008

Filed under: conversations, humorous — teenagechemistryexperiment @ 5:21 pm
Tags:
Nikki!: if I am still plague-y, I wont be at rehearsal
me: I will!
poor you. get well.
Nikki!: I just d ont want to give you guys anything
me: True.
We could make you a bubble.
Nikki!: yeah . . .historically I think that may be an epic fail

me: poor bubble.
Nikki!: heh
I think I’ll be better by Tuesday
me: i hope so.
Nikki!: yup. alyssa’s pretty sick, much sicker than I am
hopefully she will be fit for company soon
me: Poor kid!
Nikki!: yeah it’s apparently going around
hence the exhortation to eat a pound of oranges a day or whatever
me: i like oranges.
My immune system is healthy as a bear.
My brain is kinda like an old cabbage, but it’s not contagious.
Nikki!: OHMYGOD
you are ridiculous
your brain is NOT like an old cabbage
me: is too!
Nikki!: I highly doubt that a cabbage could memorize shakespeare
me: Well, it’s a cabbage with a deep love for dead poets.
Nikki!: I am actually speechless
50 lashes with a wet noodle
me: Noodles and cabbages don’t taste good together, i think.
Nikki!: well unless you plan on becoming a zombie and eating your own brain (?), apparently that wont be a problem
but I still maintain your brain is NOT a cabbage
me: A suicidal zombie eats his own brain.
and no, i’m not a zombie.
And if I was, I wouldn’t eat my brain. Cabbage is rarely good.
Nikki!: You are ridiculous. [nose tongue]
me: You didn’t know this?
Nikki!: it’ sjust highlighted right now
me: Ah, yes. Well it does that from time to time.
Nikki!: :p
me: It’s the cabbage. Sometimes it just smells worse than others.
Nikki!: Rachel.
you are not . . .an irish . . .stewmaking fish wife or something
you have no resemblence to cabbage
me: I’m not my best friend’s mother, no.
Although, she somehow knows how to make cabbage taste good.
although, she also calls sausages ‘bangers’.
Nikki!: well you can make it edible
like, coleslaw
me: she may be a bit odd in the head.

Nikki!: nah, sausages are bangers in britain
me: I wonder what my brain would be like as coleslaw.
Nikki!: tasty?
a southern delicacy?
me: Perhaps. Is tasty equivalent to sane?
Nikki!: sure.
not that you are insane, since I’m fairly sure you know right from wrong
me: I’m sane, but my sane rather enjoys dressing up as insane from time to time.
Nikki!: you are quite hard on yourself you know
It takes one to know one; I’ve got the same tendency.
me: Yay us!
So, if my sanity dresses up as insanity from time to time… then it’s like a cross dressing sanity, right?
Nikki!: um, sure?
me: I suppose that makes it pretty awesome.
So long as it’s not a crazy transvestite. That hides in caves.
Nikki!: all right, Eddie.
:p
me: hehe
02_question-11.jpg
 

First posts always suck, right? March 23, 2008

Filed under: anxietousness — teenagechemistryexperiment @ 3:14 pm

Often, when I’m feeling a strong level of anxiety, I go to my room and attempt to calm down. I’ll take out a book, or listen to music, or write, or just lie there and try and let my mind go flat, and stop it’s repetitive thinking (my therapist’s words for the nasty little mantras that get stuck in my head when i’m feeling a heightened level of anxiety.

 

one very common cause of these anxiousities (I shan’t call them anxiety attacks, because that name is reserved for something a bit worse) is my parents. I’m a teenager. I do things wrong. I’m a teenager with fairly strict parents. One has a temper that reminds me of the hulk, except he opted for red instead of green, and the other just gets mightily picky and irritable when she’s mad.

 

Anyways, they love to come up to my room, where I have tried to escape my anxiter (that which causes anxiety), which is usually them. Or a topic they REALLY want to talk about (School, chores, anxiety, therapy, school, how I need to get a hold on my future by way of starting school, why I’m upset, school, this great new Idea they had about school….). When this happens, it’s like, instead of the anxiety particles that are emitted whenever such conversations or actions happen (yes, there are little particles. It’s like a gas. Anxious gas. It’s quite frightening. They’re testing it to see how it’ll work in battle, but so far, it just makes the researchers curl up like little babies and cry themselves to sleep) is trapped inside my little tiny room, and it mostly concentrates itself where I lie, on my bed, which is positioned under a even bigger loft bed. It’s a neat cave effect. Well, except when the anxiety gas gets in there. Then it’s not so neat. Plus, you kind of feel like a cute little bunny trapped in the back of a cave by a very angry bear who wants to talk about your future.

So yeah. I’ve taken to saying, when this happens “Look, I’m feeling really anxious right now, and I’m seriously about to explode or have a panic attack or try and climb out the window or something, so If you could please try this again at a later time, I’d greatly appreciate it.” This works about 68% time, so it’s worth trying. When I try it on dad, it tends to work to begin with, and he rolls his eyes, starts to walk out of my room, and goes, all disappointed and untrusting teenager like, “Yeah. Ok. Whatever. You do what you want. You will anyways.” Thanks for that vote of support, dad. Then, he’ll either leave, or launch into a lecture on how I always do what I want. Right.

Well, today I finally gave in to that anger that pulses through me whenever he acts like that. I was like, “Yeah. Whatever. Because I love anxiety and all that.”
“Well, you do seem to have it whenever you don’t want to talk about something.”
“Yeah. Isn’t it odd how I get all anxious whenever we start talking about things that, you know, make me anxious?”
“Right. But you don’t even try to control it. You could easily just deal with it and be mature and work with the situation.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, seriously pissed off now. “Because I totally CHOOSE to have panic attacks. I find it way more fun than dealing with a simple argument. They’re way fun. I LOVE feeling like I’m having a freaking heart attack, suffocating, and going insane all at once. I love both wanting to die, being afraid I’m actually going to die (or go insane), and being absolutely sure that, yeah, this was how I was going to die. Let me tell you. Better than drugs, that feeling is.” Of course, I wasn’t so cute and clever. IT was more like ‘oh, i profanity love profanity panic attacks you profanity. they’re so profanity fun!’ But he got the message.

My question is, why on earth are my parent’s so sure that I can control anxiety? What, is it like a super power? BEHOLD! ANXIETY GIRL! CAN CROSS THE STREET WITHOUT HAVING A PANIC ATTACK! CAN HAVE MENTAL BREAKDOWNS AT A GIVEN MOMENT!

What a worthless power that is. Yeah, guys. I like anxiety. You caught me. I chose it because guys find it sexy, and it’s totally thrilling feeling all worthless all the time. Great fun.

Oh, and by the way, welcome to the new blog. I’ve decided to become open with my life. First off, this will help me get over the fear that anytime someone hears about my anxiety, they’ll think I’m just some lame emo kid. That’s why I never talk about it. Secondly, I can talk about fun things on here too, like nifty pictures or websites I found, or some amusing story that happened, or what have you. You read this, you get the best and the worst of me. I’ll try not to write when I’m in the depths of despair. I’ll keep my mildly amused cynic tone for as much of this blog’s life as I can.

So, enjoy, my faithful friends.

Oh, and P.S. Upon re-reading this, I find the awkwardness in my use of the term anxious gas. Hehehe. Fart jokes. They never really get old. Or maybe it’s just the people’s brains who enjoy them never really get old.

p.p.s I’m not a fan of it when people I like call my parents and accuse me of accusing them of being abusive on the internet. It makes them all very very mad/dissapointed/impossible to deal with, it makes me look like an ass hat, and it’s not true. I love my parents. I just don’t love their behavior towards me. And to give them credit, this is a pretty impossible thing to understand. I don’t even understand it, and I’m me. But, this is a place for me to vent. So, basically, don’t go narking me out when I haven’t actually done anything. Thanks.

Emo Teenage Cat.