Derrick -- Please make me write more. Please make me write more.

"Every writer I know has trouble writing" - Joseph Heller

Why must sharks get so much attention (Ridiculous sharknado and annoying shark week)? Sharks are rather lame when you really think about it, plus they’re really, really, really fucking dangerous? Don’t believe me, huh? Welp. But you knew this could happen already.

So why must we continue to celebrate this goddamn fish? We all know turtles and monkeys are two of the most amazing non-Kanye things on this planet, why don’t they get their own week for a network I Don’t Watch But I’m Paying For Every Month or a made-for-TV stupid disaster movie? I mean, no coincidence monkeys and turtles are hitting big screens in a massive way this summer (even though the turtle film is prompting a large volume of us TMNT fans to vomit for its 30th anniversary — FUCK YOU, MICHAEL BAY! FUCK. YOU. ) And no coincidence this is the only way for shark-related things in pop culture to be pushed. Those Jaws movies were from the 70s and 80s, and let’s not bring up the San Jose Sharks

But, yeah.. sharks are stupid and I need more monkey and turtle things to create stupid tweets about during the deadest part of the year. 

Posted on 30 July, 2014

Really sad how, while I’ve been here in Las Vegas, I’ve been silently counting down the seconds to getting back to LA and getting my hands on The Last of Us Remastered. I’m at the conclusion, even almost two full months into my twenty-fourth year, Vegas is surprisingly overrated, or at least to someone as introverted as I am. Not into consuming mass amounts of drugs, I ignore heavy abundance of alcohol (I’ve literally seen more Disney channel then drunk the last seven days) and general socializing with actual people wrapped around this desert filled with deceit and sin. I was literally upset Friday night being dragged downtown with a huge group if people wishing I was back in the room watching original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle episodes on Aja Mac. Introverted is my disease, a disease I’m too proud to have, especially here in here Vegas.

Posted on 29 July, 2014

Always thought my Tumblr turning five would’ve meant more to me, like a pseudo-accomplishment (in my heavily-strange mind, at least) instead of an ‘aww, lulz’ in my emails like it was this morning, but here we are. On a scale to 1 to 10 to represent my five years, it’d end up at a 4, maybe 5. That’s it. I always had this vision of how I’d properly used this space to properly illustrate by latter teens and early-to-mid twenties, but it never materialized like I thought, but that’s on me, I guess.

Ironically, I remember setting this up in a Coffee Bean on Wilshire; you’d think I’d end up spending most of my time towards my scant 6,440 posts in some sort of some coffee place developing carpal tunnel. This isn’t to say my five years with this has been a total waste compared to my original ‘blog gang 4 life’ aspirations—but truly believe I’ve grown since then. Not as much as I’d like, obviously, but grown nonetheless.

Ah, well. Maybe the next five years will be better. 

Tagged #V  

Posted on 18 July, 2014

Not very appreciative of Tumblr being a little bitch brat by not letting me post this new Terius song, saying it’s “not an mp3” even though it is and isn’t a file exceeding 10mb, which is the limit. I don’t deserve to have my current favorite song not be posted on my stupid tumblr in this felonious manner without being given a proper explanation. Just let me be a general lazy person from this generation where in this tumblr post space I’d prefer to simply post a song rather than use 200-500 words to describe how the song affects my entire being at the moment. 

Also, while we’re added, love how Abel Tesfaye can release a new song and the good people over at Rap Genius will have it completely annotated within 10 minutes, however, Terius can release an entire extended play and it’ll probably take months just to get the lyrics up. Real nice, people of tumblr and rap genius, real nice. 

Posted on 8 July, 2014

Posted on 8 June, 2014

"I don’t like loud noises and people making a fuss. And I especially don’t like people celebrating because they know a piece of private information about me. Plus, the whole thing is a scam — birthdays were invented by Hallmark to sell cards."

—  Ron Swanson 

Posted on 2 June, 2014

This’ll make three consecutive years, three straight years of wanting something particular for my birthday and not getting it. No third time’s the charm here, no matter how much I push for it in my head and reverse-jinx it. It’s my day, I should be able to ask for whatever the hell I want and get it like spoiled brat and not be ridiculed. I’m not even asking for much—I just want to see you on my day. I mean, after all, you’re the only thing that matters anymore. Compared to you, don’t care about anything else, not this final I basically have to ace Thursday; don’t care about great the iMessage Drought of 2014 I’m going through right now; not even the money I owe my dental provider for all that dental work I had done in March, just you.

I just want to see you Monday, even if it’s for five minutes, because those five minutes would make me very much believe twenty-four is going to be worth any thing. In a perfect world, we’d spend a significant amount of my first day of twenty-four with you not caring about anything else. Basically, the two-and-a-half years knowing each other waisting our valuable and precious twenties would culminate Monday.

But I know not to get my hopes up, a mechanism I’ve gotten use to the last several years. None of that will be happening tomorrow. What’s going to end up happening is I’ll watch the WWDC stream, wash clothes, make a rare movie theatre appearance to see The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and marvel (pun intended) at blonde Emma Stone, go home and study for this final. Eh.

Posted on 1 June, 2014

Tagged #Arctic Monkeys  #AM  

Posted on 13 May, 2014

Posted on 25 April, 2014

I truly wish I could somehow explain the amount of hate and spite in my heart these days. I doubt it’s healthy, no matter how much water I drink, no matter how much I exercise. Not quite sure how it’s gotten to this level, but it’s here. I’m upset, I’m hurt. I’ve fallen again and not sure if getting up is even an option right now. I’m in this deep, narrow hole, sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees as my chin is tucked away simmering at life and it’s curve balls.

At the same time, I can see the light at the top. I can see a hand by someone — the only person right now — who can help me out this deep, dark and damp pit of despair, hate and spitefulness to a beautiful pasture of pure bliss. I see it, however, I don’t believe it. I feel it’s an elusion as if I’m in the desert hours away from collapsing — it’s not real, it can’t be; it’s too good to be true. I just wan… 

And to think, I only came on here to change my password.

Posted on 11 April, 2014

Pologate. We will never forget 3/16.

Pologate. We will never forget 3/16.

Tagged #364  

Posted on 27 March, 2014

Really did spend roughly 20 minutes last night trying to remember the name of my bracket, which I made into an acronym of an emo-ass sentence and still, as I’m typing this now, not 100% sure what it is. Un-fucking-believable. More mystifying than me getting 32/48 of my picks correct is me unable to remember the bracket’s goddamn name. This is what I get for making it about someone I’ve spent the last 2 and a half years two-step plotting with because A) I’m too afraid of commitment and B) doubt this is even in the slightest bit plausible under my damaged umbrella psyche known as logic.

But my Final Four survived the first weekend, so that’s what counts. And I start this tomorrow. 

Posted on 25 March, 2014

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