"whats a moppet? like gonzo?" yeah its ok that youre ignorant. moppets are of bolivian origin, and they concern consuming large quantities of tequila, but faster and more efficiently. moppets are racing tequila into a new age of excellence, and i cannot understand how south america could be their originator and yet be so gosh darn poverty stricken. moppets are to tequila what SUPER ETHERNET INTERWEB CONNECTION is to INFORMATION HIGHWAYS. not even japan can match them with their futuristically intoxicating, but now obsolete, sake 'n juice. so here is what they are:
uno) take a sturdy shot glass and fill it half way with tequila
dos) fill it to about two milimeters from the top with sprite
tres) put your palm over the top of the glass, as if silencing someone you are about to mug.
more tres) BANG that shit against a non shatterable surface. (or a shatterable surface for added excitement!)
quatro) its all carbonationy, like... magic! no, billy, its SCIENCE! down that foamy goodness.
five) repeat. repeat. repeat. ad infinitum.
seis) "im a little tipsed."
siete) puke in your bed.
Youre welcome!
9/16/04
well how about that. its certainly been awhile. like TWO YEARS, ASSHOLE...! so yeah, one or two things have happened since my last update. for instance, in my last entry you'll notice that the last thing i said was "i am losing it." that was more accurate (prophetic, even) than i possibly could have known when i wrote it, because lo and behold, i did lose it and for a year i was an anti-social over-analyzing paranoid creep writing introspective rants in my private journal. dont worry though, im not back on the online to vent anymore of that bullshit; they drugged me up for a little while and now im like one of those blissful hopping blobs in the zoloft commercials. im back here because im bored and have stories to tell!! ok, i dont actually have stories to tell. but i do have decidedly different bullshit to record for the ages than what i put in my death journal. it wasnt all doom and gloom while i was away! senior year was quite a fine time and so was some of junior year (when i was having sex regularly, not when i was writing suicide notes). many exciting happenings happened. but high school is old news. college is the wave of the future. its been three weeks and our room smells like filth and garbage. the odor seems to be immune to the most powerful and masculine "Scent of Spring" air freshener a dollar can buy, which is distressing to put it mildly. perhaps an indoor bonfire is in order. in other news, i have been reading a lot about getting really rich and have decided to start my own business. all i need is some start-up capital, an idea for a business, a bigger desk than this in a room that is bigger than this in a high rise building that is bigger and shinier than this, several slaves, and some kind of mind control device. the mind control device is pivotal in attaining the other factors for my business enterprise, so if you want to get in on the ground floor of a lucrative and cutting edge business being led into the twenty first century by a motivated young entrepreneur and you invented a mind control device, please invest in me. give me the device.
THE DEVICE.
6/27/02 3 o'clock.
when they marry their cousin behind your back, thats a sign its time to move on. revelation while watching springer.
revelation 2 while watching springer: why am i watching springer?
revelation 3 while watching springer: revelation 2 isnt really a revelation, its more of a question.
revelation 4 while watching springer: i am losing it.
6/02/02 11:58PM
66.6% of parties i go to are unsatisfying. thats 2/3 and the mark of the devil. what the fuk?! its always either i cant stay long enough to fully absorb the party atmosphere or there is no party atmosphere to absorb and i shoot myself inside because it is so dull. usually the former. for instance, yesterday i went to a party and as soon as i walked up, this guy went up to this other guy, punched him in the face really hard and screamed "MOTHAFUCKA WHY'D JU STAB ME?!" he then pummelled the man and i think people started pulling out guns. i stepped around the scene and had about enough time to wave to a person i knew before the popo came. so, of course, the party ended and me and my g's went home before we had even layed eyes on a keg. ballz. on a lighter note, shop silver wok. the lady there is fucking god of the world. she gave us free treats like popsicles and mango candy. there was this awesome pipe there, and she told us it was for opium. she said that her son smokes "the green". she said the pipe is made of hard marble so she used it to hit her son or something. it was funny. she told us a long story about how china and britain fought wars about opium and then when china lost it was called the sleeping dragon. "BUT NOW CHINA IS AWAKE!" she said. "USA IS SCARED OF CHINA!" haha. its so true. that woman is the best. she showed us these electronic fire crackers and they were awesome. we left her a tip, but she said she couldnt take it. we left it there anyway. when we were about to drive away she ran out to the car and dumped a bunch of popsicles in the window. shop silver wok, people. i cannot stress that enough.
4/30/02 10:55PM
wow. this week is a kick in the pants. monday i skipped geometry (i know, i should be ashamed of myself. both for skipping, and for still being in geometry) and i got caught. to be honest, i don't know why i skipped. on a whim it was. i suppose i was feeling a little stressed about the MCing for earthfest dealy, which happened today(more on that soon). anyhow, me and my nameless friend, we'll call him... alex. no.. mr. deney. yesss. anyhow, we didnt do anything worth mentioning, even though im going to mention what we did, in detail. we sat in the dugout of the baseball field and stared at signs. that's right, signs. there were three teams you see, the blacks, the yellows, and the whities. the three sign teams each hung there and occasionally the wind would blow, knocking them about. when a sign completely flipped over it's bar, it's team got a point. this game was so much more interesting than baseball it was unbelievable. the black team, who we were rooting for, won the game by default because after fifteen minutes after the blacks and yellows had each tied, there was no wind. and black is better. wow. that was long. so back to me getting caught: my excuse that i was " um.. at... the.. nurse" didnt fly, and today my parents got a call from an "alpha administrator", which is a fancy word for professional bitch. they were informed of my treacherous, terrorist-esque insubordination, and they were mad when i got home from earthfest. now i explain earthfest. earthfest; definition: speakers speaking and being completely ignored. see also: easy extra credit. so i did this thing. I WAS THE MC. thats right. i took a break from propsing the latest schoo play (that being 'My Fair Lady' for you trivia buffs) and got up in front of people at weaver st, and was, according to spectators, "the only one they could really hear." i take that as high praise. too bad i had to come home to bitching after my victory... ah, such is life. so guess what! i'm going to washington on friday. and thats all there is about that. i'm making a new fangled poll to go here. get ready for it:
i'm ranting once more and i have forgotten most of what little html knowledge i once possessed. how bout that. it took me about ten minutes to figure out what i did to get my last rant together, although it was more of a proclimation than a rant. pretty sad. anyhow, on to business, the dillio if you will: the dillio is that i am props mastering for the play which has opening night tomorree. Agatha Christy's "The Mousetrap". fact is, i dont really do anything. my job is to sleep on a little pillow i picked out of the props room in the left wing while the assistant stage manager, who seems to have replaced me, makes important decisions on her important headset thingy. i had a headset thingy once... i remember those days..sigh. although i have lost that pleasant feeling you get knowing that if you died, the play would be fucked, its still nice to be involved with theater and such. the people are very interesting. brandon, for instance, is constantly threatening to beat up my props assistant, katie, and i. he's a very angry boy, that brandon. he likes to tell people to "shut the fuck up!" to assert his authority as a large, black male. be that as it may, he still tells some great stories, even if they sound rather... elaborated. like the time all the black kids and the mexican kids were gonna have a street brawl (ala west side story) and he was the only one who didnt show up cuz he had to be sound technician for "children of eden". and today he was jumped for having relations with some girl, but he beat the shit out of the guy who jumped him first, but then another guy kicked him in the back, see. thats why hes so FUCKIN PISSED OFF AND HE'S GONNA KICK MY ASS. and he asked my dad for five dollars. my dad said no. and apparently gay black people like to be called "homothugs." who knew?
evuhry day!
I HEART HANNAH!!
1/01/02 7:07AM
oooOOOO polls make me tingle.
what's that? you did none of that jive? well tell me what you did in my guestbook then, mr. special!
12/30/01 7:07AM
its been a long while. a damn long while. but my quasi-daily, somewhat quasi-monthly rant is being updated... if slightly. i just wanted to inform the world that i have posted two photos at "hotornot.com", a website dedicated to the praise of those who don't need it and the degradation of those who are already sad and ugly. then again, sometimes there are those ugly folks who refuse to face the music, and insist on going on "hotornot.com" with screen names such as "lilSeXydevil69" and "BiGANDBeAUTifUl88". to these people i say "wow, i admire your self esteem" then i give them a zero. i base my entire voting system on screen names. if you use the word/number "lil", "69" or "hot" in your name, i give you a zero. anyway, about my picture being on this website. its more of an experiment in female psychology than an honest attempt to boost my self image. or worsen it, as it were. you'll understand it all when you go look. my screen names are: "humorme123" and "ihatebabies69". be sure to vote hot. or not. either way, you are all robots.
UPDATE: you cant see screen names anymore. what a shitty piece of shit that is. o well. you'll know mine when you see it.
10/16/01 10:05AM
so i was walking down franklin st. with my friend, alex, one day, minding my own buisness, when suddenly a man with red hair and many piercings in a van driving by put his head out the window and screamed "POSERRRRS!!!" i had no idea what provoked the verbal thrashing, as i did not know what i could be posing. i figured it must be punks, because i do go to some punk concerts. this man must be hardcore. hardcore enough to deem who is a poser and who is not in a poser filled world. i was slightly bothered, but shrugged it off in about one second. a week later, i was again with my friend, alex, and we were again walking aimlessly down franklin st. we encountered the same man as we had seen with his head out the van window. only this time, he had a proposition for us. "please man, if you give me a dollar i will do my chainsaw impression. its pretty dangerous, and i might pass out, but i really really need a dollar and its my only talent." the man was a hobo! alex and i laughed, and told the man to go ahead with his stunt. he revved up the imaginary motor, mime style, and began to emit disturbingly accurate chainsaw sounds from his nose. eventually he fell on the ground. it was great. we gave him the dollar, he gathered himself and thanked us, and we walked away. in conclusion, if you are POSING the hobo lifestyle, well, i dont know what the hell is wrong with you. that man is on crack.
10/14/01 6:05
its that time again. thats right, its that time where everyone sends me emails with entertaining things to do. the best one wins a grand prize. you know you want it.
[note from three weeks later: this mission could not have been more simple, and yet, all of you failed. the result of your failure is my turning to drugs. way to suck, 5 or 6 site visitors. way to suck...]
two guys walk out of hazmat into the street. a hobo approaches them and asks the two for a dollar. one of the gentlemen has just purchased a nice new jacket for $50 and has change. The other has money in his pocket, but its all in large bills. The first man with the jacket says to the hobo "No, you mayn't have a dollar." while thinking "Why should I spend my money on other people's crack?" The second man says to the hobo "Sure, you can have a dollar." and reaches into his pocket. The hobo stares at the man while thinking hungrily of all the crack he'll be smoking when he gets his hands on a dollar. "Sorry, I actually don't have a dollar" says the second man on finding that he has only large bills. The hobo sulks off, enormously angry at them both, but especially angry at...?
8/21/01 10:54AM
ugly people get no respect in society. its a damned shame, their ideas need to be heard. i decided to take the task of giving the collective ugly a voice by setting up a very special foundation. its called the celebrity hand-job foundation. it involves lots of celebrities giving me handjobs. what do you think?
8/20/01 6:30PM
well, my life would make a lot more sense if i was a giant asshole all the time. karma isn't working out too well so i guess the only choice is to take the deity praising route so many successful individuals have used to their advantage, like kenneth copeland and KISS army. with such a vast array of praise-worthy deities spread about, i'm having a tough time deciding which is the most supreme. thus, i have devised a poll so that my loyal 4 or 5 site viewers can choose for me. soooo...
8/16/01 6:30PM
ZACK'S DAY-AFTER MOVIE REVIEWS(c):
*reviews based souly on what zack can remember about movies that nobody's heard of*
Today's review: "Sure Death"
sure death is a samurai flick which the back of the box says is supposed to be a comedy. some japanese people have a very skewed sense of humor. you can seldomly tell, in this movie, whether something is intended to be a joke or if they're serious and it's just a bad movie. its not a parody, i don't know what it is. anyway, here's the plot: a bunch of assassins are trying to kill this other assassin who wants to be the only assassin. there's a subplot in there about this whore girl who wants her boss dead because he killed her kitten, chiichu(or something), by throwing it against the ground really hard. she dies by way of throwing knife at about the half-way point in the movie. the main character is this guy whose supposed to be a stupid cop but is really an assassin(with a submarine!...i don't know why) and his mother in law hears from some lady that he's an assassin and she suspects him until she finds a wooden sword in his sheath and basically calls him a wussy girly-man. one of the best things about this movie is the soundtrack. i think the soundtrack is why the director or whoever decided it was a comedy. it is the most random mix of zorro mariachi type shit/porno music/music you would expect to hear in dragnet or shaft, i have ever heard in any movie, no less a samurai one. the best part of this movie happens about two thirds into it when they all start fighting until the end. in fact, the rest of the movie could've been cut completely. all the assassins use their special "techniques" to kill the bad guys and the main bad guy who apparently has a bunch of clones(?). One guy uses fishing line. Another uses deadly throwing tiles. after they finally find and kill the real main bad guy (by stabbing him) they all get in a submarine to escape the cops. then the main guy's step mom and his wife try to make a puppet show and say its hard to do and then the movie abruptly ends. FINAL RATING: 7/10 stars. fast forward until you see the guy drill himself underground by spinning quickly, then watch from there.
8/12/01 10:25PM
well, it still hurts to chew, but o well. very little happened today, other than i finally saw the first american pie. and i found out that that franklin st punker, josh, who i thought was a hobo, lives in a fancy townhouse next door to my good friend, jon. josh is pretty violent and dirty for someone who lives in a townhouse and isn't a hobo . hobo is a great word.
8/11/01 3:37AM
and what a fine day to begin~! today i went to the cat's cradle and saw "true sounds of liberty" (a punk band) live. don't you just hate those bastards who jump around in the moshpit with lit cigarettes? he burned my middle finger. yeah, a sharp elbow to the gut for you, buddy. i got pretty messed up in that moshpit, actually. someone knocked me down and i ripped up my elbow, which bled on my nice new corduroys. sheeit. i also dislocated my jaw a mite, and it's still pretty sore. it'll be ok in the morning tho... i <3 ramen!
