Snaps. Current Age: 17 as of November 12. Current Residence: Laval, Canada. Oh, and I live in a honey-comb house. Interests: Drawing, reading, listning to music and acting stupid without any remourse. Favourite movie: LOTR, HP, Sleeping Beauty, Snatch, Anna and The King and Interview with a Vampire. Favourite band or musician: CCR, Rolling Stones, AC/DC, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Queen, GN'R etc... Favourite genre of music: rock, classic rock. Favourite artist: Michelangelo Favourite poet or writer: J.k. Rowling, Anne Rice, Louis de Bernieres... Favourite game: Legend of Zelda Personal Quote: It says 'RESERVED' asshole! 'RESERVED'! Is your name fucking 'RESERVED'?!
Words Of The Wise: Tutter, Screepy, Mutarded, Reeton
Tools of the Trade: Natural media, Photoshop and Painter Classic.
contact me on my messenger handle: MSN: email@example.com
Ravenclaw! You're a Ravenclaw, smart but happy and not in the least overworked. You're probably a bit ... um... mad, to tell you the truth and you enjoy wreaking havok as long as you still get good grades. But you don't fret about that. You're not really friends with the other houses because you're seen as "The Smart People" but you probably get along best with Slytherin. You don't mind Hufflepuffs and you're probably indifferent to the Gryffies.
It’s and I’m in computers class 6th period, listing to Mike and POM giggle together while rotating my wrist at the joint, having sprained it earlier.
We were playing Field Hockey today in gym. We’re all getting very good at it, but it has to be the dumbest looking game I’ve ever involved myself in. The white croquet-ish balls’ only purpose is to get stuck in the tall grass on the edge of our school field. So we spend most of the period trying to slap it out of the long dandelions with our hooked sticks. That’s more or less when I twisted my wrist. Enza comes charging towards me like a bull seeing the red flag and I try to deak her, pulling a very quick backwards pass, but I miss and the ball rolls slowly and unenthusiastically between my legs and out of bounds. I stand their slouching for a moment or two before I realized that I am standing and slouching, so I moved slightly to the left, pretending to be interested in what was happening farther down the pitch. I didn’t notice till later that my wrist was aching, but I can still type, see?
I’m going to go see Shrek tonight with my sister and POM. We’re all hoping it’s as good as the first one. I can’t wait to see the prince; he looks like such an arse-hole. We’re going for the ; hopefully it won’t be sold-out like the last time. The only other movie that I remember being sold-out recently was Troy. Troy to say the least had some cool parts, but damn was it missing something. Hector was great, Orlando was good (but they made his character more of a wimp than he is in the actual Homer version, from what I hear)…the women though, they couldn’t act. They were right pretty, but wow, no talent. The movie was also kind of long, but Brad naked was worth the price of admission. Lucky Jennifer Aniston, I never saw an arse that perfect before! If he stuck his bum on some ones neck it would be an improvement. It’s just that perfect, and it made my night.
I also went to see Van Helsing, or Val Helsinn as my father likes to call it. The director really put a sense of the old vampire movies. You know, the black and white ones with Dracula. It started off promising enough but my patience began ebbing away as the heroine showed up in a fighting-evil kind of corset and Revlon lipstick. The werewolves were cool. Their transformation seemed quite painful, though. Dracula looked like he’d be comfortable in some of the old silent horror film but his wives…what is it recently with women and bad acting? Sexy women but they were ridiculous. Every time the scene dared to become serious they started convulsing slowly in the background, apparently from painful sorrow. I don’t know, another touch of the old ways horror films were made, but you’ve got to update things a little bit. That lesbionic dance of woe just doesn’t do it anymore. To younger audiences it looked more like the Wicked Witch of the West melting at the end of The Wizard of OZ.
I can’t believe I almost forgot. One of the guys in my grade just lost both his parents. His father was depressive and shot his wife, then himself. I didn’t know him too well but who doesn’t feel bad when that happens? Well ‘bad’, what a light word. ‘Terrible’ is more suitable, yes, definitely. He was a trouble-maker and not an entirely nice person, but you don’t wish that on your worst enemy, know what I mean? The younger brother saw it happen. He was about 14-15 I think since he’s in secondary three. The story was on the news, but I heard it through the grape vine at school.
Stories like that make you appreciate what you have. I have a nice family whom I like very much, despite being a teenager and people should just be grateful when they’ve got something as solid as that. I remember yesterday telling my mother the story at supper. We had snuck out to McDonalds; ‘snuck out’ because we knew my father wouldn’t agree *smiles*. She was of course sad to hear about it, and a little shocked that I knew the guy. You never know the people on television. They’re always people far away; just a screen and a cable through a wall. Not corporeal. Anyway, that got me thinking about my family in general, but especially my mom who was secretly sharing a small table with me in a forbidden corporate restaurant. It was our secret. Ours and the many empty straw wrappers lying there like little bones.
We do this often of course, but my favorite time we went was one cold night in February. She had just come back from Curves and decided to make use of her calorie loss by gaining it all back in one meal. So she non-challently walked up to my room and peeked in, motioned vigorously to me and some how managed to communicated that she wanted to go to McDonalds. It was dark and very cold outside. Neither of us wanted to go in and order so we went through the drive-though, then stationed ourselves in the McD’s parking lot. We didn’t go home, my mother said, ‘cause daddy would get pissed. Not bothering to open the car light, we sat there in the dark, watching the cars pass on the highway in front of us and nodding our heads tiredly to the sound of Enter Sandman by Metallica, the only sound for miles it seemed.
In Which Snaps. Makes a Lazy Attempt to Regain Her Title.
It's and I'm in computers class procrastinating my work load and racking my brain trying to remember the last time I post here.
It sucks that I’ve been overlooking this site recently and my last entries were all short and half-arsed, their main body consisting mainly of apologies to my frequenters for negligence and maybe a small portion reserved for my actual day to day life. I’ve been really busy lately; first with my portfolio and then with my term paper. It was on Mary Magdalene and how the church stained her reputation to under mind women. I'll upload the introduction when I get home, just if you're the curious type, and if you're the lazy type, I suggest you skip it. What’s worse of course is that I never got farther than page seven of my paper. My main source of information never came in the mail!
I had ordered a cassette from HistoryChannel.com for about 20 bucks and paid for fast shipping by Puralator for another 20 and it never came. Apparently I didn't read the fine print. Because I live in CANADA it's considered foreign post and the fast shipping only applies to how quick it gets to the American-Canadian border. So, in the end it should take about 6-8 weeks to get here. Estimating it gets here soon, that would make me about 6 weeks too late, in which my teacher will tell me with a gleam in her eye and a whip for a tongue, to go flush my head down the toilet because I’m so full of shit. Yes, she is abusive that way, but I like her anyway and hope there's a sub. Replacing her today.
You know what made me ecstatically happy? I watched Bob Ross this Saturday. I thought they'd stopped airing his show! He's so great. Everyone knows Bob Ross, and it's not like he's a super star. He paints and he talks really slow and calm-like and can put anyone to sleep. Yet, paradoxically, everyone knows him. Everyone of my 180 secondary five class knows this sandman. We’ve all used him to fall asleep one time or another, and the funny thing is no one dislikes his show. We all want to stay awake and see him finish, but we never do. No one ever makes it to the end. He's my hero. I want to paint like him one day...and get my own show on Vermont Cable television, too.
Okay, all my posts have been useless of late because I suck. I have not filled you in on anything because I am lazy and I do not really care because I am a perfect asshole, but here's what I have been doing:
This is my new Deviantart ID. I like. You like? Good.