Dayvan Cowboy

oh my god, I can't stop laughing. all of the teachers at my school got a guidance counselor today to try to refer me to some child mental health specialist or some **** because I keep forgetting everything. they think I legitimately have a memory problem. they're taking it so seriously and I'm just like "chill dudes".

it reminds of the time that the school was doing locker checks last year and I decided to put a note written in pink pen that says "I hate everything" with a heart and a smiley face as a joke and they legitimately thought I hated everything and tried to get me a therapist.

NSW

So this morning I went to the gym where I'd been doing zumba in the past, and found out they don't offer that class anymore. What they offer instead is a class called Sh'bam!

The instructor was all "Ok, Ok...watch this....run this way...now leap!...now watch me....now twirl!...now run back this way...now jump forward....now make it rain!" I felt like we were a bunch of 5 year old girls running into each other in a beginners dance class. Terrible. Then he requested all the ladies let their hair down, so that when we swung our heads back and forth during a certain song, we'd look more sexy. Creepy.

In case you're wondering what "making it rain" is, it's basically jazz hands that start near your head and go down to your hips. The first time he said "Make it rain people!" I almost busted out laughing. I don't know if I can go back or not.

__________________
Hi.

Janszoon

__________________
A Night in the Life of the Invisible Man

Time & Place

25 Albums You Should Hear Before the Moon Crashes into the Earth and We All Die

last.fm

Goofle

... is the amount of packets of 'Thingies' I have eaten in the last 20 minutes...

__________________

Salami

At least six.

And it's ten o' clock, Clancy.

-_-

it is terrible day. I want to live alone. my room my room my room My room is occupied.

Salami

Necromancer

Damn little Brother..you're not getting into your moms diet pills are you?

Only person I ever seen that could actually post in four different forums simultaneously.

Salami

I honestly didn't realise!

I just thought that this looked so funny:




Ahhhh... you mean the avatar!!! looks really scary now!

Dayvan Cowboy

People, I'm going to be honest. My life is dull. like, so mind numbingly dull it hurts. Sundays are especially dull because all of the shops close early and the shops at this time of year all full of old people with mushy genitals buying snuggies for their ungrateful grandchildren anyways. My mom was planning on making sunday a lazy day, but I was too good for having a lazy day that day. I was going to go on a mother****ing adventure!



in my town, the line between urban and rural has no blurring. you could be outside a shopping mall and then you could walk a few meters and find yourself in the middle of incest-filled hillbilly nowheres. Because I am a badass Indiana-Jones adventurer consumed by wanderlust, I decided to check out the sketchy trails that go off of all of the roads I live by.



My first ballsy adventure started out by a path carved out by four wheelers and mountain bikes. The path that was created branched off of a little playground. I had my headphones on very loud, listening to Rachel's Music For Egon Schiele. Everything was going pretty good until I saw a lot of very deep ice covered puddles. I wasn't sure if the fragile ice could support someone of my build, but because I am a mother****ing jungle explorer, I crossed it anyways. Unfortunately, the ice was thin, and the god of Teenaged-Girls-Thinking-They're-Badasses-By-Crossing-Thin-Ice-Puddles was certainly not pleased with me today. the ice cracked into frosty spiderlegs and the muddy water gushed out from the wound I had caused on it's surface. My flared jeans were soggy with the blood of a hopeless injured puddle. I could hear it's screams ring in the distance behind me as I left it to bleed to death by the stoic shrubs and the indifferent rocks. What a cruel fate this puddle hath suffered. I would have helped, but only the cold could freeze it's injuries over.



After that sickening incident, I headed down the trail some more. Powerlines hung peacefully in an electric sorrow above me, and the trail ahead was filled with more hopeless ice puddles. I had no choice, I had to cross them. More glistening cracks were made, more muddy puddleblood was spilled, and my heart ached in mourning for these innocent bystanders injured by my cruel recklessness. I never wanted such a cruel act to happen. I squinted with my pathetically bad vision into the distance. I could see nothing I recognized, and I had a creeping feeling that I was going to be attacked by some vicious, soulless, frightening fauna and be left for dead in the middle of nowhere, suffering the same fate as the puddles I had killed.



after about thirty minutes of monotonous hill climbing and path following, I began to think that I was lost. if I was going to be mauled by a lynx, nobody would find my little mutilated body. This thought scared me, but I tried to keep my fears back with my vibrant adventurous spirit. after a little while, I began to see a familiar building. The community college! for some reason, the community college is on the desolate outskirts of the town, and a kilometer beside it, a glistening freezing river flowed. I crossed the soft, fluffy, khaki coloured grass lined hills that stretched out front of me and headed for a steep rocky path that led to the peacefully running river. at this point, I turned off my music and listened carefully. All I could hear was the trickling of the dark river and the rustling of the dead brown flora in the chilly fall wind. I looked down at the river, and saw no life. I sat down on the greasy grass beside the river and had a moment of peaceful reflection.



After pondering life's mysteries like a foolish young child pretending to be wise, I decided to continue my daring adventure. I grabbed my New Brunswick tartan purse filled with books and headed over to the construction road beside the strong green forest-wrapped community college.



The road was dull and grey, and the river ran under it. it was not a paved road in the least, and it was very desolate. I began walking towards it, and signs with warnings were littered about on poles. the warning almost always read "DANGER: CABLE 91 FEET AHEAD" and the like. I ignored these signs and made sure that there wasn't any evil deadly animated cable anywheres, like a good cautious girl would. I walked up the winding grey blasted rock hills and found another warning sign. this one was not as friendly looking as the other ones and screamed out in big red blocky letters "DANGER: EXPLOSIVES NO TRESPASSING. TRESPASSING THIS AREA IS PUNISHABLE BY LAW". I peeked around the corner out of curiosity: there were thousands of these signs lining the cliffs of an explosive-blasted road. This provoked a little bit of fear out of me. I gently reminded myself that a good adventurer keeps their adventures legal and safe and decided not to break the unspoken adventurer code. I turned back and crossed into the local community college's parking lot. I wasn't sure if that was trespassing too, but it sure was a lot more legal than going into the explosive carved stone jungle that had laid before me, beckoning me to commit a seriously punishable crime.



I notice an older man walking about. I didn't think much of him, but he frightened me at first. I looked up ahead, there was a lot of green grass that had somehow managed to stay alive. I climbed up the little slope, and found another parking lot. I scampered across it like an oblivious simple minded animal until I found another path. this one led me to a decaying soccer field. the rusted fence blocking me had a rotten wood sign that read "NO ENTRY". that sign is a stupid liar because I Could just enter it by climbing over the fence if I wanted to. Because I felt bad for the sign's dementia built up through old age, I pretended that it was physically impossible to get me over the fence and admitted defeat like an adult would do when he/she let a kid win a board game. I turned around and attempted to ignore the man I saw earlier. Then, something frightened me. I realized that he looked rather stoic, patrolling the area with no emotion. He was like a security guard robot, a less cool version of robocop. I gave in, walked up to him and said "sorry sir". he did nothing. he stood there, nodded his head and continued on. relief had washed over me, and I continued bouncing along down the road. to my next destination.



I was going to head back home, but another little pathway caught my attention. it was rocky and covered with more four wheeler tracks. I gave in to the temptation and happily skipped into the forest. after a few meters, I had to coldly murder a few more puddles. I didn't care for the welfare of the puddles anymore, I was a cold blooded killer, and I let their puddleblood soak into the flares of my 1970's styled jeans. The puddleblood froze to my jeans, and every step I took, the frozen jeans clunked against my boots.



I ended up getting pretty deep into the woods. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw a dead body there. after the word dead body had crossed my mind a few times, some ancient instinct stirred inside me, filled with fear. I was going to be killed by a bear for some reason. I needed to return to the safety of the road. Suddenly, my mind wandered back to my travels to Alberta. In a town named Waterton that's engulfed by the great Rockies, there are hiking trails that warned against bears and advise that you make as much noise as possible to let the bear know you're there and that you do not mean any harm to it and aren't worth bothering. suddenly, another instinct welled up inside me: a musician's instinct. I was ready to rock, Appalachian forestry style!



In my sudden rush of rock star energy, I snapped branches off of a silvery birch tree, got two jingly necklaces and held them in my mouth, turned my MP3 player back on and blasted At The Drive-In as loud as I could. I stomped, did drum solos off of the prickly coniferous boreal trees and clunked my solid frozen jeans together. the sounds circled and echoed off of the pine trees, and the ground shook with my sheer joyous demeanour. I led my one person parade out of the evil coniferous forest behind me and stopped as I met the familiar street again.



I finally decided to head back home, but then, a barren hilly brown landscape off of the road beckoned. I was entranced by it's brown-ness, and seduced by it';s hills. it was once a forest just like the one I had the parade in, but it was cut down a few months ago to make way for construction. on my way to the back of the hill, I saw a rather large dead birch tree. the tree was too dead to even maintain it's silvery lustre, and it's peeling bark showed that it had admitted defeat. I wasn't going to let this tree decay in an inglorious manner! I WAS GOING TO BECOME A WIZARD!!!!!!!!!! I was enthusiastic, I was going to use it's mystical branch as a wand and reanimate it. I named myself Wizard Frozenpants, and hummed an ancient incantation in a language that probably didn't really exist, but whatever. I sat there, I prayed for the tree and waited for it to re-root itself and grow new leaves. I used all of my magic, but the poor tree was a lost cause. I bowed my head in respect and kissed it farewell. I picked up my bag, and continued towards a hill.



before the hill was another ice puddle, but it was far deeper and greater than the other ones. I had no sympathy for these ****ers anymore. I was going to cross it anyways. I was a wizard, I had no business caring for the weak useless puddle. I continued on until I heard the icy cracking. Suddenly, my emotional side kicked in, and tears flowed down my faze, froze to my cheek and faded away. this poor puddle was defenseless. I was going to spare it, because too much puddleblood was shed that day. I stepped backwards, caressed it's thin, glistening surface, and took a path that went up the hill surrounding it. I sat on the jagged edge that hung over the puddle slightly. I threw down dead flowers in respect for it, and bowed my head in shame for all of the evils I had committed against the beautiful, strong puddles. A wizard adventurer always shows respect. It's another part of the unwritten code.



after I felt like I had given the puddles murdered a wealth of respect, I remembered that among the things that I became today; the wizard, the adventurer and the musician, I lacked one skill that would win me great honour: the artist's skill. I grabbed my noble wizardry wand and found a mound of soft, unfrozen brilliant red clay. it was heated by the setting sun, and threw it's magnificent red hues around. it practically begged to be carven into. I grabbed my wizardly carving tool, and made the first mark. and then the unthinkable happened: the magnificent wand broke, clean in half. I had failed myself as a true adventurer, and my failure rang through the barren hills like a sad, dishonourable bell.



Then I remembered an old saying. Two heads are better than one. Even though sticks aren't heads, I figured my two 1/2 wandkind would be perfect for the occasion. I pulled the 1/2 wand out and poured my creativity into it, until my wands =were cruelly mutilated as the clay hardened in the cold. I was no longer a wizard. I had lost my energy channelers. I had failed myself again. Then I remembered the wise words of an old wizard: "Your wands are not the source of your power. it's you. you are the star.". MY honour was regained, I was always a wizard! I always had the magic in me! I needed to find a way to celebrate my wizardhood. I was filled with such glee!!!!



I climbed over the hill, and accidentally turned on my MP3 player after depressing the buttons with my gut. it was perfect. the song "Dear Can" by !!! came on. it was dance party time. I danced behind the hill for all my might. I danced for the Glee of becoming a wizard! I danced for the puddles and their acceptance into the heavens, and I danced, oh god did I ever dance, for the spirit of adventure. I hope every child of mine will follow in my great, giant footsteps and find themselves just as I had. I hope the spirit of adventure flows though the veins of every grandchild, and their grandchildren. My joy vibrated ecstatically though my soul, and rang like a happy, honoured bell through the hills and into the hearts of the world.