Everything I've wondered, pondered, considered, deliberated, contemplated, speculated, mused over, puzzled at, and thought about. Everything But Math that is.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A Post With A Story For The First Time. It's Even A True Story

A True Story About A Special Kind Of Huckleberry My Family Discovered

The is a true story. It's as accurate as I can get it. You should be warned, there may appear to be some swearing, on every one's part.

My mother, my Vatti, my brother and I were on a road trip, one of many in the coming years. We were in Montana and we'd gotten over the initial road trip excitement. My brother and I had even managed to play a few hands of poker before remembering how much we hated being stuck together in the car. Boredom had set in, as it inevitably does. Everyone was just staring out the windows, or driving, in my Vatti's case.

Every state has a special produce it boasts, apples or potatoes, and in Montana, it was huckleberries. There were huckleberry smoothies, huckleberry jam, huckleberry milk shakes, huckleberry pies, huckleberry lip balm. All of which were advertised on big wooden signs all along the road. My brother, oh Speaker of the Obvious, said: "There sure are a lot of huckleberry things around here".

But that's not what my mother heard...

"Did you just say, 'there are a lot of fuckleberry things around here'?!". Yes, the fuckleberry. We went to Montana to see glaciers but the things that still springs to my mind first when I think of Montana is fuckleberry.

We stayed in a crappy motel that night, and laughed for hours about all the fuckleberry things. Fuckleberry milk shakes. Fuckleberry pies. Fuckleberry jelly. We started buying huckleberry things, just so we could show it to the rest of the family, in a whisper proclaiming the new fuckleberry product that we'd purchased.

The rest of the entire trip was a blur of fuckleberry jokes, exchanged in hushed voices, in restaurants as we ordered a huckleberry pie of shake. Everyone knew to whisper about it in public, except, of course, me.

I was not, what you would call, a subtle child. I was the one, skipping ahead of the family through a grocery store in Montana, loudly proclaiming,
"Hey! Mom! Look! They have Fuckleberry ice cream!"

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Fire-Breathing Goats and why YOU Should Invest





Feast your eyes. Feast your eyes on the war machine of the future that, your truly, shall design. It's deadly, it's cute, it's dangerously stupid. I will genetically engineer Fire-Breathing Goats (patents pending) and become extremely successful.

You may be thinking, this is a stupid idea, but once you see my accurate and detailed graphs, you'll fully understand the necessity in their invention and use.






On a scale of one to 90, oh no one knows what, Fire-Breathing Goats far outshine regular goats AND aquatic goats. Whereas aquatic goats are the ugly ducklings, Fire-Breathing Goats are creatures of grace and beauty. Whereas regular goats are very much lacking in danger, I assure you, Fire-Breathing Goats could cause an Apocalypse. Graph #3 shows this but unfortunately, I can't find it. Since my other two graphs, that could beat down any one's doubts about the safety or morality in this matter, are missing, I'll use a visual demonstration to illustrate their logical uses in warfare:





You see? They can train a special forces group to lead the deadly creatures in to war against enemies. People will see them coming and run in fear. The special forces could even have a fancy name like Goat Operative Abnormal Team (Miraculously Enduring Nightmares) or GOATMEN for short. The 'nightmares' is referring to the extreme danger in riding a goat that can breathe flame.

When you're ready to invest, just let me know.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Second Post of All Time Which Should Be Slightly Better Then the First


(In case you can't tell, it's a shoe)

I like flowers, I especially like thinking about their culture. What it's like to fear the mower, be corralled in the flowerbed, and quiet possibly *weeded*. I've devoted far to long thinking about this. It ties into why my blog is called Everything But Math. Last year math was extremely easy so I spent the entire time thinking about things like the culture and desperation of flowers. I also drew a great deal of doodles and talked at length with awesome people about awesome things like ice cream. So although this year everything is NOT so easy in math class, most of my inspiration came from the days when I was doing everything but math.

First Post Ever

Haha, first blog post ever! This is what I think of every time I go bowling. The pins want to run, but maybe they're paralyzed with fear, deer in the headlights, praying for a gutter ball.