I am reading instead of writing. I have had this problem since Harriet the Spy and the Hunchback of Notre Dame, both reading assignments in the fifth grade. Hence the title. your welcome.
I'll go over the series, mostly for me, but a little for you as well.
I'm reading a lot of Jill Shalvis, because that woman is awesome. I've read the first Wilder book, Instant Attraction, which was easy since I own it. then I had to wait for the next two. Damn!
Shalvis' Lucky Harbor series is going well. I just finished the third one, Head over Heels, excellent. then I read the fourth, Lucky in Love in about five minutes. Okay four hours, but it was great. And I just got the fifth, At Last from the library.
Animal Magnestism series is great, read the second, Animal Attraction in a day, then Rescue my Heart in a day. Now I have to wait until November for the fourth.
I read the end of Double Play, the first in her Pacific Heat series, because I'm, bad to the bone and now I'm nervous about reading the entire thing, because I'm stupid like that. I have to read the first in the Sky High series, Smart and Sexy, but I thought they were gonna be short stories but they aren't so I'm a little discouraged. (Short stories don't cause me as much heartache or stress because the problems are resolved quickly.)
I also started Shannon Stacey's Kowalski Family series, which is freaking awesome. I'm just about to start the third one, although I firmly believe the second will be my favorite forever. And Goodreads was so rude about it! ugh, heartbreaking. And I have to read some Inter library loaned books, one of which is the first in the Charmed Ninth Season graphic novel, another with short romances. I feel bad because they brought in a whole bunch of books that I requested but was too impatient for so bought. I mean, I bought all of them. So now I'm getting an inpour of these books and I've already read them all. I feel so guilty.
There are other updates, but I'm gonna wait for a while to talk about them. I already told my mother and she told my dad and they both got pissy about it, so fuck that, I'm not telling anyone else. I'm not ashamed, and I'm not avoiding telling people in case I don't go through with it I won't feel guilty. I just don't want everyone to start harping on me. These people can be real annoying.
So, I'm gonna go type up some ideas, and I think I'm gonna use the blog post space to do it, since I'm able to type away here. Microsoft Word intimidates me, APPARENTLY. So, happy typing. Wish me luck!!
Showing posts with label Ha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ha. Show all posts
Friday, August 9, 2013
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Shit, I Missed a Day
Nope. Didn't get to post a picture today, cause I worked from way too early in the morning until one this afternoon. It blew fucking chunks. So you can take a look at all the Terry Pratchetts I have. Checks are owned and 'x's are read. Enjoy. and yes, I did make all those check marks. aren't I awesome?
Your welcome
Thursday, November 8, 2012
New Idea That Will Not Last, We All Know This
Made on Best Buy post pad, as you can tell by the hole.
Take a picture everyday, HOPEFULLY next time it will include my face, but man do I really suck at taking pictures. They're either fuzzy and I've taken eighteen but picked the fuzzy one, or they have the most fucked up angles ever. I don't meind my double chin but we have to see the note. Obviously.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
ABC's of Ashley
Yes, I did steal this meme from her because I don't post enough, and it looked like fun. So here goes.
A. Age: 18. Legal to vote, but I can't drink. Damn Ontario laws!
B. Bed size: King (technically two singles put together, but let's not be choosy)
C. Chore that you hate: Decluttering with my mom. Because she really sucks at decluttering.
D. Dogs: Does my sister's dog count? Because I think he really should.
E. Essential start to your day: Peeing. Wow, I really have no schedule. Can you guess I'm a teenager?
F. Favorite color: Purple.
G. Gold or silver: Gold, because it goes really well with my skin tone and I like gold jewellry.
H. Height: 5'7 3/4 (and yes, that 3/4 matters)
I. Instruments that you play: Guitar, violin and flute, though all of them mediocre.
J. Job title: Awesome. Or Student. or Daughter/Sister. But Awesome pretty much covers it.
K. Kids: None. (Cat doesn't count because she hates me)
L. Live: Sudbury. Northern Ontario. Canada.
M. Mother's name: None of your business. (Lisa, but don't tell anyone!)
N. Nicknames: Ash, Nemo, Marie, Judy.
O. Overnight hospital stays: Tonsil removal (I wonder if there's an official name for this, but I'm too lazy to google it)
P. Pet peeves: People telling me I'm being mean. You think I don't notice? Perhaps I'm being mean for a reason, you idiot. Get away from me before I kick you in the shin
Q. Quote from a movie: All I can think of is "Truth? you can't handle the truth!" and I've never even seen that movie. Dear god.
R: Right or left handed: Left. There are so many things that I can say about this, but I'll just leave it be. For now
S: Siblings: Three of 'em, none of whom know about this blog so I cannot tell you their names.
T: Travel favorite: Really anywhere that I have to travel in a car for an extended period of time. I just like riding in cars.
U. Underwear: Really, let's not mention it.
V. Vegetable(s) you hate: Celery, because its stringy and not in a good way like pineapple.
W. What makes you run late: What makes me really late is having control over my schedule. Because I'm honestly the slowest person in the damn world (or at least in my acquaintence)
X. X-rays you've had: For my teeth. Because I'm crazy like that.
Y. Yummy food that you make: Ah, so many things. Potato salad is my favourite.
Z. Zoo animal: Monkeys. And I have no explaination for this
Ah, aren't you glad you know all this?And look, this is the post where I revealed my name. Isn't that nice. Did you catch it? Huh, go back, look it over. Ah, there you go
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Snow Day Number 2 of January
It sounds like an official title, but really, that's a lie.
Dear 2 foot pile of snow in my driveway,
I hate you. It has nothing to do with your looks, your personality or your attitude. This hatred occurs mainly because you exist, and more importantly, you exist in my driveway. At first I didn't really notice. Only after you tried to trap my father leaving for work did I become aware of your existance, and learned that I need to remove you. This hatred grew when I spent my Wednesday sleeping, mainly from 7:30 that morning until 2:30 that afternoon, which happened to be the exact hours that I have for actually going to school. The hatred then compounded when I was told to use the snow floe. I hate the snow floe. Many of my childhood winter days tried to sit in that stupid ice floe in order to be pulled around my yard. I could never sit the snow floe. I could never catch it as my parents pulled it around, trying to clear the snow.
So really, this hatred has nothing to do with you exactly, but the fact that I had to move you created this animosity. But mother insisted, and you were removed. Slowly, and having to return twice and heat up with a hair dryer, I pushed you almost completely onto the road for the plow to push away. I killed you. ah ha ha ha ha ha! But, and this makes me want to cry, just a little, you came back yesterday, AFTER I had cleared you, and now you are back, mocking me. You are a bastard, and I will defeat you, because I really have no choice since my mother will make me shovel you later. I hate you, you ugly whore.
To the blog, Not you pile of snow. I shall be back later with pictures. Or I'll google white and post that, because its really snowy here.
Dear 2 foot pile of snow in my driveway,
I hate you. It has nothing to do with your looks, your personality or your attitude. This hatred occurs mainly because you exist, and more importantly, you exist in my driveway. At first I didn't really notice. Only after you tried to trap my father leaving for work did I become aware of your existance, and learned that I need to remove you. This hatred grew when I spent my Wednesday sleeping, mainly from 7:30 that morning until 2:30 that afternoon, which happened to be the exact hours that I have for actually going to school. The hatred then compounded when I was told to use the snow floe. I hate the snow floe. Many of my childhood winter days tried to sit in that stupid ice floe in order to be pulled around my yard. I could never sit the snow floe. I could never catch it as my parents pulled it around, trying to clear the snow.
So really, this hatred has nothing to do with you exactly, but the fact that I had to move you created this animosity. But mother insisted, and you were removed. Slowly, and having to return twice and heat up with a hair dryer, I pushed you almost completely onto the road for the plow to push away. I killed you. ah ha ha ha ha ha! But, and this makes me want to cry, just a little, you came back yesterday, AFTER I had cleared you, and now you are back, mocking me. You are a bastard, and I will defeat you, because I really have no choice since my mother will make me shovel you later. I hate you, you ugly whore.
To the blog, Not you pile of snow. I shall be back later with pictures. Or I'll google white and post that, because its really snowy here.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
A Joke
You may not realize this, but I'm fucking hilarious. No, it doesn't really matter whether you agree, in my heart I know its true. So it is. Just like that peeps. Magic.
So because I'm hilarious, I enjoy a good joke.
Here is one.
A politician dies. He awakes at the Pearly Gates, in front of a slightly confused St. Peter. He asks Pete what's up.
Pete replies, "Well sir, you're name is here on the dead list, but it doesn't specify where you're to go. Now I've been thinking and I've decided to let you decide. You can go to either, because you've been a good person through charities you've supported but you've been bad too, being a politician. So, you're gonna spend a day in heaven and a day in hell. Where do you wanna go first?"
The politician shrugs and says "I guess we'll go down first." So he takes the elevator below. When he arrives and steps out, he is greeted by a glorious sight. An endless expanse of a perfect cut grass makes the most beautiful golf course in existence. Piles of sinful food sends mouth watering scents though the air. Crowded on the tables are bottles of hundred year old whiskey and scotch and champagne. Woman of all shapes and sizes await his every whim. And man! All of his friends are down here.
The politician spends the day in absolute ecstasy, drinking and golfing and fucking and hanging with old friends. The day ends and he takes the elevator back up to the gates. Here he enters heaven. It's cool, with harps and angels and shit, and the politician is torn. When the second day ends, St. Peter drags the politician back out to the Pearly Gates.
"Alright," Pete says, "which will it be: heaven or hell?"
"Well I don't know," the politician replies, "hell is, well, hell, and heaven is lovely and all, but hell, man it's got everything! The golf course, the food, the booze, the women and all my buddies. I know it doesn't sound right, but Pete, I think I'm gonna head down to hell.
St. Peter nods his head and sends the politician back down the elevator. When he arrives at the gates of hell this time, its fire and brimstone and torture and shit. The politician stands there stunned when Lucifer happens to pass by. The politician gets Satan's attention and asks "what the hell is this place? I was here yesterday, and it was nothing like this. Where's the course and the booze and the women? Where'd they go?"
Lucifer shrugs, "Yesterday was the campaign. You voted for hell and the election's over."
Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.
I got this joke from my grandfather's old friend (the friend isn't old but my grandfather's dead, so technically, its Grandpa's former friend). While out eating tonight, my parents and I overhead him telling this joke to his dinner companion. I thought it was awesome, especially since the friend is a politician. I changed it a bit, mainly because I wasn't paying attention for the first part of the joke and partly because I'm better at telling jokes. Oh modestly, thy name is not mine.
Night dorks.
BTW, the word "ecstasy" was originally capitalized by Blogger. Nice, Blogger. Real nice, you fucking druggie.
So because I'm hilarious, I enjoy a good joke.
Here is one.
A politician dies. He awakes at the Pearly Gates, in front of a slightly confused St. Peter. He asks Pete what's up.
Pete replies, "Well sir, you're name is here on the dead list, but it doesn't specify where you're to go. Now I've been thinking and I've decided to let you decide. You can go to either, because you've been a good person through charities you've supported but you've been bad too, being a politician. So, you're gonna spend a day in heaven and a day in hell. Where do you wanna go first?"
The politician shrugs and says "I guess we'll go down first." So he takes the elevator below. When he arrives and steps out, he is greeted by a glorious sight. An endless expanse of a perfect cut grass makes the most beautiful golf course in existence. Piles of sinful food sends mouth watering scents though the air. Crowded on the tables are bottles of hundred year old whiskey and scotch and champagne. Woman of all shapes and sizes await his every whim. And man! All of his friends are down here.
The politician spends the day in absolute ecstasy, drinking and golfing and fucking and hanging with old friends. The day ends and he takes the elevator back up to the gates. Here he enters heaven. It's cool, with harps and angels and shit, and the politician is torn. When the second day ends, St. Peter drags the politician back out to the Pearly Gates.
"Alright," Pete says, "which will it be: heaven or hell?"
"Well I don't know," the politician replies, "hell is, well, hell, and heaven is lovely and all, but hell, man it's got everything! The golf course, the food, the booze, the women and all my buddies. I know it doesn't sound right, but Pete, I think I'm gonna head down to hell.
St. Peter nods his head and sends the politician back down the elevator. When he arrives at the gates of hell this time, its fire and brimstone and torture and shit. The politician stands there stunned when Lucifer happens to pass by. The politician gets Satan's attention and asks "what the hell is this place? I was here yesterday, and it was nothing like this. Where's the course and the booze and the women? Where'd they go?"
Lucifer shrugs, "Yesterday was the campaign. You voted for hell and the election's over."
Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.
I got this joke from my grandfather's old friend (the friend isn't old but my grandfather's dead, so technically, its Grandpa's former friend). While out eating tonight, my parents and I overhead him telling this joke to his dinner companion. I thought it was awesome, especially since the friend is a politician. I changed it a bit, mainly because I wasn't paying attention for the first part of the joke and partly because I'm better at telling jokes. Oh modestly, thy name is not mine.
Night dorks.
BTW, the word "ecstasy" was originally capitalized by Blogger. Nice, Blogger. Real nice, you fucking druggie.
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