If you're an antisocial shut-in like me, you might find it hard to make friends, at least one's who aren't named "Stranger."

But don't worry, Mr. Lonely, I'm sure there are people who would want to talk with you.  They might want to also want touch you in inappropriate places, but I guess it's better than nothing.

Of course if you want to make friends who will be with you through thick, thin, and letting you talk to them sometimes maybe when their other cool friends aren't around, then you have to take one of two paths.  However, there just seems to be something wrong with having to suck a guy’s dick in order to stop him from calling you ‘faggot,' so we'll skip to the higher route.

Step One: Be rich. People love rich kids. If you are rich, you can drive fancy cars so you can pick up chicks and then bang them in it later. Parent’s aren’t lawyers/doctors/astronauts? Well then, the least you can do for yourself is steal some fancy clothes to make yourself look good.

Step Two: Network.  Social network.  Get on MySpace (Facebook is for social whores who want to give out their friend invitations to anyone who wants it.  Don't fall for it.)  Make yourself sound interesting, rich, or hot.  Not hot? Then follow the next step.

Step Three:  Photoshop is your friend.  Give yourself some fancy 6 pack abs for your profile pic.  Take a pic of a popular guy surrounded by girls and paste your head on it.  'Accidentally' get a picture of your 10 inch penis spread across the internet. 
Step Four: Join in with your prospective friends and make fun of other people.  They were your friends at one point before you got addicted to World of Warcraft?  Nah, they didn't support your 18 hour a day gold farming business (which was fairly successful, to be honest, minus the sleep deprivation and dropping out of class.)  You don't need them anymore.  Your display of lack of morale standards will definitely make people like you.

Step Five:  If all else fails, go out and get to people yourself.  Go to every party, and bring beer, but don't drink any.  Do whatever, bang any chicks, secretly pee on those douches who passed out.  Can't dance?  Can't even talk to girls?  Don't worry, with everyone equipped with beer goggles, you will be the sober life of the party, and nobody will even remember it in the morning.  They might remember faintly of something totally killer happening the night before though, just tell them that was all you.  If they don't, well then just remember the one night you actually had a life...

The last time you were eating pizza (If you're into that type of thing), what did you think?  Did you think "Oh my god, this is mind rockingly awesome, like having an orgasm in my mouth?"  Or did you think, "America, this country that I live in, likes to take native foods from other countries, bastardize them, then try to sell them back to Americans and make them think it's genuine?"  Well that's what I thought. 

Let's take a closer look at pizza.  It comes from Italy.  Same place as pasta, breadsticks, and salads complete with those olives that you can fit on your fingers so you look like an alien [kind of].

Never mind, that's just from Olive Garden.  But Pizza is actually from Italy, I swear.  At least that what we're taught as kids.  Then again, how many people have actually been to Italy?  Does it even exist?  There's not possible way a country could look exactly like a boot- I call photoshop.

It doesn't matter, because we have pizza in this modern age, which makes everything good.  Unless you're talking about Hawaiian pizza.  That stuff is just gross.  And it's not even close to Hawaiian.  Pineapples?  I really doubt that all pineapples come from Hawaii.  That's like saying that the only fat people come from America.  Then there's the 'bacon.'  Never mind the fact that it's not real bacon, it's from Canada.  CANADIAN BACON.  On a pizza deemed to be HAWAIIAN.  Can you see anything wrong with this picture?
All the genuine traditional Italian pizza that I've had right here in the United States of Not Italy has like tomatoes and herbs on it, and topped with 17 different cheeses of which none I can pronounce.  They might even throw one some prosciutto, which is like Canadian bacon minus the shit, and with actual piggy goodness.  At a pizza place back where I lived?  There was one called the 'Smokehouse."  It was one of the greatest things to ever touch my taste buds and eventually to be shat out, but it was nothing like this. 

First off, the sauce was ranch and barbecue sauce- which is almost the exact same composition of the blood that runs through the veins of Americans.  Next, it had meat.  Lots of meat, because we have tons of land to grow up our animals big and fat before we cut them up and shove them down our gizzards.  Tiny girly countries can't afford this luxury, and therefore can't eat as much amazing protein to help them grow big and strong and have the ability to win wars.  Wars are won not on the backs of pigs, but on the bellies, right where the bacon is at.  Uh Rah.

So although we steal the native foods of other countries, we make them bigger, better, and overall more delicious.  Which is what counts.

It is known by only a select few people, but 8 o'clock actually comes around two times a day.  These sorts of people usually look like this:

The 8 o'clock of the wee morning hours should only be reserved for those who are willing to ingest large amounts of coffee.  And even then, they still have to figure out a way to function.  Just because you are awake doesn't mean you can or want to process information.

There is a wide margin of time between waking up and having adequate brain function to be in a socially acceptable state.  Between these two points, there are things like 'opening of eyes,' 'being able to keep them open,' 'hitting snooze 5 more times,' and various other things.  If I have to go to class at 8, I'm pretty much going to sleep until the last possible moment before getting ready.  There is no time for 'waking up.'  I don't care how many months you've been in a coma, if the first time you open your eyes happens to be early in the morning, you're going to shove your face back into the pillow and yell at the doctors to hold off on your sponge bath for 5 more minutes. 

I know people who are morning people.  No offense or anything, but I hate them.  So you biked briskly to class from the next town over after making yourself a soy turkey omelet for breakfast complete with freshly squeezed juice from fruit you picked yourself.  I really could care less.  Just don't be so damned peppy about it, and god forbid, don't try to get me to join in.
Classes at 8 are pretty much throwaway (unless it's like a class about sleep deprivation or an intro to coffee tasting class.)  Sucks that you registered too late.  If you are one of those 'overachievers' who wants to take 20 units a semester and can't fit in any more classes in the afternoon because that's when you have cello practice, then I don't feel sorry for you. 

The only thing worse than an 8 am class?  A 7 am class.  3 years of mornings spent as a Zombie.  Don't go to high school kids.  Drop out, sleep in, start a blog, and make money off of the ads.  If it worked for... oh wait, it didn't. 

There are two kinds of computer users. Ones who use them to make miracles and other lulz or otherwise productive things, and ones who break them the second they come into their possession.

No no no, don't do that!

My parents seem to fall into the second category. Most computers start out perfectly fine and mostly bug free (unless you’re buying a Compaq). Sure, Windows may slow down to a crawl after a while, but if you want it done a lot faster and a lot more efficiently, you can give it to one of these people.

I don't know how things turn from "checking e-mail" to "changing the default color scheme and the screen resolution into something awful" without knowing how they did it.  I didn't know what 'ctrl+x' did for the longest time, but my mom would somehow figure out how to do all that before a Google search even finished.  "It must be a virus."  No, it's not, you're just retarded.  Is what I'd like to say, if I didn't have to worry about getting grounded.

"Ok, what buttons did you press?" "All of them?"

Despite going to some of the sketchiest sites out there (*cough *4chan) and downloading pretty much every form of free or pirated software out there, I have never really had a really bad virus. Yet, my mom somehow seems to get those system dominating ones that won't let you do anything, all from, I don't know, visiting sites from Google search.  It makes me wonder what she actually uses her laptop for.

My dad once broke the power button on his brand new printer (which he even brought in and exchanged because of it.)  I don't even know how that happens.  Hardware problems like that are harder cause, unless you're trying to do random shit with stuff that stay put in the first place.  But I'm pretty sure hardware problems are tons harder to fix...

Is your hard drive running nice and quietly? Do you miss the awful clicking sound of a floppy disk trying to read all 200 megabytes of information stored on it? Well then, all your hard drive needs is a nice smack on the ground to create nice constant clicking and grinding sounds. You can even follow the rhytm with your fapping of the pixilated porn stored on said drive, if you can still read it that is...

So with my moving out of my shitty hometown and into a new college full of awesome and random people, I start a new chapter in my life. So I thought I would change up how this blog works as well. I’m going to make formal crap shorter- that being said, "It came from YouTube" no longer exists- I’m just going to post funny YouTube videos when I find them. Posts are going to be less regular, but longer and probably more funny to make up for it.

The dorm building I live in is called Laurel. I think it’s supposed to be named after a tree or something, but it can also mean butt. I think I’m the only one immature enough to make that connection. It’s also the international living area so there’s ton of people with culture. And they speak languages that I don't. With all these roommates, suitemates, and new friends that I’ve been forced into acquaintance with, I’ve had tons to deal with. Including everything Asian.

Don’t get me wrong, I love all things Asian. That might just be the fact that everything I know about Asia is learned from anime, but I’m still technically in the age range for being able to save the world if some weird shit were to happen. My roommate is a fake Asian (meaning he was born here in the ‘America’ but he speaks Vietnamese so I guess he fits.) Then there’s me, the Asian wanna-be, and then one more guy who went to Vietnam once, which is more than I can say for myself. Then there's the two girls, one of which has indeterminable race simply because we can't ask while she's on the phone or being hit on, which is always. Finally is Mrs. China.

Her name is spelled "Mangqi," which by English pronunciation is "Mankey."

Yes, Pokémon jokes have been made.  No, we haven't been so horrible as to say it in front of her.  Nor have we actually said her actual name in front of her because none of us know how to pronounce it correctly.  Needless to say, between the lot of us we have a lot of rice and chopsticks.  As well as an entire drawer in our kitchen devoted to packets of spicy looking things with unreadable moon runes all over them. 

But seriously, all of my roommates are hilarious and fun people, most likely the reason why I haven't been posting much lately.  I'll be sure to record more random happenings here for more Humboldt Hijinks.

So Jesus dies, sins are all taken care of, everything is all good, right?  Apparently not, because they made a whole other half a book to cover everything else.  Well to be honest, I have no idea what happens after Jesus dies.  It's like whatever happens in the Lord of the Rings after they (spoiler) drop the ring into Mount Doom.  Yes, in the books there are several full chapters after that, none of which I have read.

Does not knowing these make me a bad person?  Am I going to go to hell?  Short answer?  Yes.  Long answer?  I'm probably going to hell for multiple reasons, not just for trolling the bible even when I barely know anything about it. 

But since most religions state you're going to hell if you don't follow whatever beliefs they hold, then that means everyone is going to some hell or another.  Is Muslim hell Christian heaven?  I know they would probably hate it there, as much as I would being trapped with a bunch of Bible thumpers for all of eternity.

However, every once in a while, something crawls out of Satan's fiery bunghole and is planted here on earth to make us suffer (or enjoy, if you happen to be a sadist like that.)  Rebecca Black?  People who say "like" a lot?  Talking popup ads on the internet?   It all comes from somewhere, and that place is hell.  Yes, most of you know my writing by now, and can clearly identify this as none other than an intro for a new weekly post series:  It Came from Hell.  Stay tuned for next week, my hell spawn.

A new school year means back to school shopping- yes, even if you're in college.  So what did my mom get for me in a last ditch effort to make me appreciate her before I left for college?  A new sweatshirt.  But not just any sweatshirt, a sweatshirt with headphones built in.

It's called a "Hoodie Buddie" (trademark some fourth grader), and I'm not sure what to think about it.

When I first saw it, I was like "my god, what kind of wizardry is this, this is amazing."  I knew that I would finally be able to listen to music in class without anybody noticing cords everywhere.  I could pass time in even the longest of classes even if I wasn't tired enough to go to sleep.

Trying it on, it hit me.  This product is absolutely ridiculous.  I mean honestly, you just look silly with those pull strings dangling from your ears.  Then again, I do now live in a town where twice-cutoff jean shorts are acceptable and a sweatshirt works perfectly fine in place of a bra.

These do actually work good, if you leave off the 'good' part.  The earbuds are those kind that shove down deep into your ear, probably past the safe zone recommended on the box of Q-Tips.  I don't know, maybe it helps in delivering music straight to your brain.  Not that it helps the sound quality at all, they're somewhere in between the 99 cent headphones from Walmart and the "they must be better because they're from Best Buy" 10 dollar ones.  It kind of sounds like I'm underwater.  Either that or they caused my ear drum to burst and let water into my skull.

I kind of like the fact that the cords are all tucked away.  I tend to tangle the fuck out of every single pair of headphones I've ever owned, and have even ripped of the speaker end off a few.  Not that I haven't destroyed the pull cords on a sweatshirt either.  If one of those bastards happens to get caught on something, you'll end up looking like Kenny for days until the strings stretch themselves back out.

Yes, you have to have the hood on to make the strings reach your ears without falling out.

My final thoughts: I know I'm going to eventually wash my Ipod because of this (assuming I actually use it to listen to music.)  I'll probably using this for snowboarding or something, so when I fall over I won't have to untangle everything, including my legs. 

Well, I lied.  No, not about going off to college to get smurter.  I wouldn't wake up at 8 am to make a joke post.  My sleep schedule is more important than my trolling schedule.  I lied about no Troll Cave this weekend. I didn't expect to have internet this weekend, let alone access to a computer.  Luckily I was able to commander my mom's laptop (making up for all the times my own room got taken over because of relatives.)

Driving over twisty turny roads in the mountains was fun, in a sort of 'first time playing racing game' type of way.  And I don't mean the simulation types, which you would assume are sort of like actually driving a car.  It was more like those racing games in an arcade where if you make one wrong twitch you will bounce back and forth off both sides of the road until you are in last place and smashing the screen.

Also, there are a lot of roundabouts around the college.  At least I'll get to walk or ride my bike instead of drive.  I promise this blog will stop being my diary and go back to the good old trolling shit after I get moved into my dorm.

You may be wondering why I'm posting really early.  Like, really, really, early.  It's before noon even, this is bad.  Anyways, I am moving over to college this weekend, so I have to finish packing the rest of my room, which currently holds only this computer.  Fun Stuff.

This means no Troll Cave this weekend.  If you still want to be trolled, try some 4chan or something, I heard there might be some trolls over there.  I'll be back sometimes next week, that is if I don't crash my car driving through crazy mountain passes, get smothered in my sleep by my roommate the first night, or worse, have my computer get broken in the move.  See you!

Adding to the list of "reasons why I hate this horrible town" is traffic circles, or roundabouts. No, not ones that aliens leave behind. Unless you count the illegal aliens who the city hires to build them.

I really wouldn't care less if they were at least subtle about them. They built one a while ago on a road I often take. The second I saw it, I thought to myself "I'm going to pop this baby into 4 wheel drive and go right over the top." But then they put huge boulders all around the hill in the middle, probably because some lucky idiot got there before me.

Now with traffic circles inside of other traffic circles.

Now I have to settle with having to downshift and drift around the outside like boring people.  I bet if I had one of those Korean imports instead of my Chevy Blazer (which is back up and running btw) I could totally burn some rubber.

If one roundabout is good, then a second one right down the road must be great, right?  No.  Especially not at a real intersection, where lots of drivers, most of which are bad, go through every day.

Here in California, traffic circles are included in driver's training.  Not that anybody remembers it the second after you peel yourself off the passenger window when the G-forces stop.  Who do I yield to?  How many times do I have to go around?  What is so wrong with a stop sign that makes it completely inferior to this (hint: nothing).

There's no arrow that points outwards!  Where do I go?

Back to the second roundabout the city is building, just down the road from the first one.  Up until now, it has been a 4 way intersection.  So how do you get a circular roadway into an area that started as a square?  Answer: Eminent domain your way in, screwing any people who happen to live on the corners, and lop of the corner of their yard.

The whole thing goes back to a round peg in a square hole.  Back when all the autistic babies were color coding and numbering their building blocks, we were still trying to figure this one out (We were able to talk though.).  Roads are rectangular-ish, cars are too (some more than others.)

I'm looking at you, Scion.

Lots of land are also sold in - get this - quadrilateral formations.  It's like a pizza box- the pizza might be round, but the box isn't, which makes it a bitch to throw it away in the also round trash can.  [If you're poor like me, you might also pay the delivery guy only using coins, which are also round.]

Then comes the matter of what goes in the center.  A nicely decorated, tire inviting hill of expensive landscaping?  I think we already know the answer to that.  How about a big-ass fountain?  A viewing platform to go and see little people driving big cars around in circles for hours and hours?  Maybe just a sign stating how a traffic circle is supposed to work.

One day I just want to take my friends in their cars and just drive around in it.  All the poor law-abiding people will just have to wait their turn to merge into our everlasting circle of fun.  The only thing that could make it funner?  If it was a figure eight, with lanes crossing in the middle.

All in all, I've known that circles were risky business ever since I started playing Minecraft.  But at least I'll be long gone before it even gets finished.

Ever get that feeling when you hear or see something epic, and you're all like "who guys, whoa." Take that feeling and multiply it by 100, you get this song.


You’re probably sayin’, “Wtf, I have to sit through his videos every week, now he wants me to watch a 12 minute one?” Well, you don’t have to listen to it if you’re a girly man. If you just want the idea of the song however, just watch this:



Yes, man. Whoa. Now tell me, how many of you just had spontaneous chest hair growth? Yeah, that shit happens. But that's not all. This has all the features you could ever want, and more. True testimonies:

"This song caused my ovaries descend into my pelvis where they became testicles."

"HOLY SHIT I CAME VIKINGS RIDING BEARS"

"Holy shit, I just grew a meter-long beard."

"I never believed God was real, until I heard Daniel Heiman singing."

Well, there you have it. WOAH-OH-OH-AH-AH-AH-AAAA-HA-AH-AH-AH

So in about a week, I'll be headed off to college (you probably guessed that by now.)  I'm actually going off to real college- not community "let's pretend this isn't just like high school all over again" college.  Which probably means I won't have as much time to spend here trolling people.  And not just because I'm off banging chicks.

I don't know how busy I'll be, or even if I'll remember how to speak English with all the French classes I'll be taking.  I've kept a pretty good schedule up till now, but I'll probably have to cut back with less posts.  To make it up I'll probably make them longer, even thought I'll still be writing them as I come up with them.

I still haven't told my to-be roommate about my blog yet.  I don't want him to request a room change because he thinks I'm a psychopath.  I'm totally not.  He's Asian, and probably is really smart and cooks good, so I don't want to lose him.  He's also probably going to kick my ass with his Asian ninja skills when he reads this, too.  Sorry, Steven.  I'm a troll.

Living without my mom breathing down my neck will probably be fun, even though I barely know how to cook, do laundry, wash dishes, and probably breath for myself.  I don't even know where to go shopping for ramen and shit over there.  At least my car is fixed and I have a way to drive away at high speeds if things go bad!  Wish me luck!

College is a place for many things, like new opportunities and new experiences, and for seeing the same things over and over.  Or for just getting stoned.

College.  Studying.  Sex.  Alcohol.  Drugs.  Whoa, that digressed fast.  The days of sex, drugs and rock and roll are over- all we have now is aids, crack and techno.  Except while you're still in college.  Old is the new new- complaining about how you hate your parents while mirroring the same things they did when they were your age is the 'thing' to do.  They might not remember the awesome keggers or hot-boxes they took part in, but if they did remember it, they would end up just trying to stop you.

I'm heading off to college in a couple of weeks to Humboldt State, which is well known for.. well, pot.  Everytime I say I'm going there I get asked if I'm going to become a pothead.

Probably... not?

I've never taken drugs before, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like.  Listening to trance?  That's totally like LCD LSD right? Sometimes if I run around in a circle really fast, or stand up after sitting on my ass all day, I start to black out like I was completely drunk.  I even walk like a drunk if my foot happens to be asleep from all that sitting.  Maybe I could totally hallucinate and have a chance to talk to my ancestors or something, or just totally drift out of reality all together.

Nah, I think I'll stay sober and go out and bang some chicks study.

There comes a point in every mans life that he must accept Jesus into his heart.   No just kidding, that's totally gay.  And we all know how much the Bible loves homosexuality.

But I'm not saying Jesus is gay or anything, he's actually a pretty cool guy.

Sometimes

If you've read the Bible like every non-going-to-hell person, you realize that Jesus isn't actually the one who is the Troll, but his father.  God- the original troll dad.

First, he sends his only son down to the Earth (from heaven no less, talk about a demotion.)  He totally gets born to some riffraff who can't even get into an inn for the night.  His mother?  A virgin.  I bet Joesph was pretty mad about that.

Not everything in life is free, as much as I would like it to be. For things that actually are free, they are hard as hell to come by, since everybody and their great uncle wants to get their grubby hands on it first. The solution? Be the one who is there first.

Or be a vulture and get there after everyone has left everything else behind.  Sure, anything that got passed up by tons of other people probably isn't that great, but you can't complain because you probably don't have any money, you poorfags. As many of you know by now, I work at the movie theater- I get to clean up after the yuppies who pay for an 8 dollar ticket, order a 5 dollar drink and 5 dollar popcorn, then leave half of it on the ground or in their chairs. Sure, I could grab a hand full of popcorn, but I don't care for the thought of consuming another person's spit that they left for us knowing that we're in the middle of a 5 hour shift with no meal break.

Of course I was able to score some movie gum cleaning one theater. No, I didn't pull it off the bottom of the chair. I found it still in the pack. It's like a free lunch, even though that doesn't really exist. It's like trying to make a pie... from scratch.

You may be getting free food (or gum), but then again I had to exert energy to chew it, energy that came from food I had eaten previously which I had, in fact, payed for. 

So what are you left with?  Either no money because you're a chump and payed for your stuff, and hey, you might be better off because what you bought might just be better quality than anything you could get for free.  Or you might have fought your way past the other cheap people and got free stuff.  And so you're tired because none of the free stuff included food to sustain you, but you can still appreciate your free stuff none the less.

After an entire week of watching porn nonstop, I don't know how well I'll adjust back to regular videos with people who are clothed.  But it's so hard since a lot of regular movies are filled with so much sexual tension... and magic?

I hate that feeling when you have to choose between dealing with the Dark lord or your girlfriend. Both can be pretty horrible if you make them mad.

Good thing all problems can be taken away with memes and smooth jazz.

It's summer.  Unless you live in the southern hemisphere, you upside-down freak. (Gravity, how does it work?)  Anyways, it's hot here.  And I still have like 2 weeks left in this god-forsaken town before I head off to college on the coast where the contents of my car won't turn into things comparable with other really hot things like the sun and lava.

Lava pool featuring Penelope Cruz.  Which is hotter?

I never remember the heat bothering me as a kid, and I've lived here all my life (another reason to want to burn all of it to the ground.)  I think I know the point at which the sun suddenly decided to make me hate going outside, or even moving my body for that matter.  It was the point my balls dropped.

The term 'hot as balls' actually means something.  While the human body is 98.6 degrees F (what, that's like 600 for you Celsius users?) testicles hang away from the body in order to protect their precious cargo.  Balls, in fact, do have a measurable temperature.  Whatever lucky guy they tested to get this information, I do not know.

The hotter it is, the farther away from the body the scrotum expands, allowing them to "breathe."  This can be augmented by wearing mesh shorts, or  standing on top of a fan with said shorts on.  Not that I'm telling you how to rustle your jimmies, that's up to you.

Balls also change when it's cold.  It can sometimes be referred to as "shrinkage."  Which brings me to my next point.  I can't take a cold shower even when it's burning hot.  It's like a cat, they don't like water because they look smaller when their fur is wet, and therefor they are less intimidating.  So I end up taking a hot shower, not only to avoid that "I'm dying of hypothermia I can't breath" feel, but also to protect myself if someone should happen to initiate a naked shower attack like in Psycho.  Or if my mom happens to walk in.