There's certain limits to things.  The amount of unlimited pancakes you can get from the 4$ unlimited pancake meal at Denny's isn't limited.  Unfortunately, this isn't a 'Humboldt Hijinks' post explaining in syrup dipped details of how me and my friends somehow find ourselves there at least one a week.  This is about anime.

I sometime tell myself 'You've watched too much anime today, it's time to get up and do something productive.'  Then I feel my feet being asleep after sitting on them for hours, and forget about trying to move.  After this season of anime, I felt as if I had watched like months of anime, when in actuality, it had only been three months.  And wouldn't you know it, another season of anime is starting up.  And I'm probably going to watch like half of them.

I remember saying sometime a long, long time ago that I would stop trying to watch as many shows per season that I could.  Then somehow I end up going to 4chan or some place, seeing some enthralling battle scene or a particularly erotic panty-shot, making me want to pick it up.  (True story; I have started many an anime because of this.  Not just panty-shots, you pervs.  Boobs work too.)

Sometimes I wish I could watch all the animes.  At the same time.
Unfortunately, I only have two screens and two eyes.  Until I have a full wall filled with monitors, unlimited bandwidth, and a set of compound eyes, then I guess I'll have to stick to marathoning full animes deep into the night, over and over until it starts interfering with my classes/real life/porn watching.  For the record, I've marathoned three anime series overnight since moving off to college.

So my predicament is whether I'm watching too much or too little anime.  It probably goes back to me just not being able to watch every single anime that I want or have wanted to watch all at the same time.  Having a real life is hard on my nerd-cred.

I don't even know why I watch anime in the first place.  Am I that attracted to giant robots and cute little girls doing cute things, and overall just weird shit?
Yeah, probably.

Back in my hometown, there was this one hole-in-the-wall burger shop where I always went to that was filled with tons of random redneck humor.  It was pretty fitting for my town.  My town that pretty much hated anything that wasn't republican.  The food was great, and the prices were too, especially if one of your friends was paying for it.

They called this method "The Obama Special."  My friend once invoked this one me, being that the only money he had was one a little plastic card, and they really couldn't use that to fuel the fire on which they cook their burgers on. 

Mmm, smells like capitalism.

So what would happen if other presidents got their own meal plans?  Who would end up paying for it?  Which person in line would get screwed, blamed, or otherwise?  Well, I came up with some plans.

The Bush Jr. Meal Special:  Because your family knows the owners, you get to go to the front of the line, then have everyone behind blame the person ahead for getting pushed back.

The Clinton Special:  This special comes with a free blow-job from one of the waitresses while you enjoy your meal!

The Nixon Special:  You get to go back behind the counter, learn the secret recipes, then get the cops called on you, saying that you broke it.  (They still let you in after, but you decided not to.)

The Kennedy Special:  You get to make your own burger in hopes of finding something better than what they serve, but end up getting kicked out.

The Roosevelt Special:  You gather up all the poor people off the streets and try to get them job there, but you have to beat up another person to try to pay for all of it.

Everything comes with a free side of your choice of fries, onion rings, or impeachment!

Back in High School, in order to skip a class, you either had to fake a note from your parents, or get home before the school called your house about the classes you had missed, if you actually had teachers who cared enough to take attendance.  Then if you wanted to leave campus to go smoke pot or whatever the cool kids did, you had to somehow clear the prison-like fences and security guards who usually have nothing better to do than take cell-phones. 

Here in college however, we actually can choose to fail and burn our several thousand dollar education ourselves, and just skip class whenever.  So that's what we did the other day.

Ferris would be proud.

It's not that any of our classes are throw-away, or even easy enough that you can just learn everything from the book.  It just they're early, and it's far better to sleep in your bed than in the back of the room, head propped up against whatever is there, conveniently wearing shades.

Clever, until someone calls on you.

Just kidding, I wouldn't pay a dollar for that.

TROLLS.  This is a blog about trolls (and stuff).  YOUTUBE.  Youtube is a site where you waste time and watch videos.  ANIME.  It is something I like a lot.  This is a combination of the three.


Also, although my roommate is Asian and likes anime just as much as me, he doesn't know karate.

As the proverb goes "Girls go to Jupiter to get more stupider, Boys go to college to get more knowledge."  Well luckily for me, most girls actually went to college, and like most some boys, they have matured.  And grown boobs.  And now they tend to hang out in my room.

It sounds a lot better than it actually is.  Girls are distracting, and not just with boobs flashing everywhere.  Case in point why I'm on the internet instead of reading the libraries upon libraries of pages I'm assigned.

Believe me, if I caught even a glace of a boob once in a while (or a lesbian make out scene, or random skinny dipping, or impromptu orgy) I wouldn't be on the internet even half as much.  But the girls decided that I was posting about my asian roommate too much and not fawning over them. 

I was asked to include my feelings about lesbian urges and sad feelings for them, but I think everyone knows about my urges to make sweet love to women, and then cry about it after, like I had just guiltily eaten a big pint of chocolate ice cream by myself (which I actually just did, with the help of one of them- indirect kissing ftw.)

Men may be from Mars, and Women may be from Venus, but when it all comes down to it, we all have to come down to Earth sometime and meet up, whether it be in the form of stalking, raping, casual one night stands, or the very rare "relationships."  After all that, as men, there are always going to be women watching from behind your back, making sure that your blog posts are not slandering them (even though it is.)





(Save me.)

Ten years ago today, a tragedy befell this great country.  I may have only been in 5th grade, but I remember what great thing the people involved did, and it moved me.

If I should remove five blocks corresponding to the five pillars of Islam before the tower should fall, then I know I am guaranteed a group of virgins (aka a World of Warcraft clan) in my afterlife.  But seriously.  No jihads on this blog please.  Here's a funny picture to make up for it.

"Snap into a Slim Jim while I snap into this!  Rawwwwww!"

Baby, Baby, Baby, Friday, Friday, Friday.  I could go on and on.  Not that I would want to.

I don't know about you, but I would rather sit in boiling oil for eternity rather than listen to Bieber and Black for however long the entire discography for both of them combined would last (what, 30 minutes or something?)  But then again I'm not a prepubescent girl with problems that include choosing the right seat.

Uh, the one on the right.

I was lucky enough to grow up in the time where we had the good stuff.  I wasn't a girl back then (or now, fyi), but if I were, I would have grown up satisfying my strange pubescent girl urges thinking about Timberlake instead of Bieber.  The bands we had back then actually provided us with a fine moral upbrining; Backstreet Boys, N'sync, and Britney Spears- just look at them now:

Never mind.

Believe it or not, there were bad singers even before the technology existed to make them sound good through auto-tune.  Back then, they had other people sing while the good looking people lip synched to them.  Then Britain invented this thing called "The Beatles"  who both could sing and make girls produce excretions of which they had never produced before.  Our teen pop-stars of today are from Canada.  Thanks, eh?

On a semi- related note, who else remembers Kidz-Bop?  They took all the good pop songs of the time, took out all the sexual references and cursing, and made kids sing them.  We didn't even care if it sounded like crap, we could sing along with our own squeaky voices without having to thing you sounded bad.  Nowadays, kids already sing the songs.

People of the internet usually go by "anonymous."  There is no singularity on the internet, only anonymous as a whole.  Alternatively, you can call them "faggot," but people who are gay and such tend to not like to be associated with  the horrible people who post pictures of their penises pretending to be gay. 

Occasionally you can name people who use the internet, even though we wish they didn't.  Their names are 'mom' and 'grandma.' There are just some horrible things on the internet that you just don't want them to see, or see, then ask how you knew about them.

If you somehow sort out all the clean, sane people off the internet, then you are left with a big coffee filter filled with all the horrible people of the internet- aka 4chan.

4chan boards and their users go long beyond "op" and "retards who reply to op, keeping the troll feeding cycle alive."  Some boards even have their own monikers, no doubt you've heard of a /b/tard.  But have you ever heard of a /fit/izen?  Didn't think so.

/ck/ is the cooking board.  /ck/ could be the ck in cooking, or it could be the /ck/ in cock.  Nobody is sure.  All I know is that rooster is a lot less appetizing than chicken (which also has /ck/ in it.)

Artwork and critique is /ic/  as in "I c wat you did there."  Buahaha.

Fashion is /fa/ as in fag.  We could have figured this out already.  Not all fashion lovers are necessarily fags, though.

Travel is /trv/, and although it's like a really, really huge stretch, it might stand for 'transvestite,' just because it's a really interesting experience traveling as a transvestite, with the whole pat downs at the airport and such.  You never know where they might go to find a bomb- they might end up with a completely different package.


Not that I have any experience in this.

It's a 3 day weekend, so that means I can pretty much do nothing.  I don't even know what holiday it is, or who died or was born so that I could skip class legally, but I could care less about researching it.  I can be lazy all I want.  Not just the regular "not go to class" lazy, because on a three day weekend you have an extra day to recover from it.  This is like a "sit on the couch and eat Cheetos off my stomach while my butt conforms to the cushions" lazy.

Friday can pretty much count towards the weekend for college kids like me (if you don't have an 8 am class on that day.)  So what did me and my roommates do, being under 21?  We played Monopoly.  It starts out a nice fun game, paying shitty rent for staying on some property that is probably nothing more than a dirt lot.  If you happen to be lucky and be the first person to land on one of the good spaces on the last side of the board first, then the game starts tumbling into a downward cycle of rage.

"Fuck your hotel on Park Place!  I quit."

Never mind the fact that my roommate is Asian as well as a business major, and whether that has any effect on the outcome of the game (hint: it did) someone is going to get screwed, and someone is going to end up with all the 500 dollar bills in the bank.  Well, after 4 hours of yelling at each other for landing on free parking and praying to land on "Go to Jail" so you don't have to pass 4 blocks of hotels, we finished.  At 3 am.  So instead of going to bed like normal people, we went and did the only thing you can do at that time of the night: we went to Dennys.

If we weren't sleep deprived enough from the night before, we decided to stay up all night and marathon anime.  No, it wasn't my dream of watching all 500+ episodes on One Piece in one sitting.  We did, however, marathon all 26 episodes of Claymore, which for people who have never done so, involves sitting and watching for over 10 hours straight.  Unfortunately, we didn't have any Cheetos, but I'm sure that some of the chair cushions are firmly molded into the shape of our buttocks. 

The best thing?  I still have two more days.  I'll probably go to the beach, and do stuff like lay in the sand and be even more lazy.  Then finally do all the extra work that was assigned me because we have an extra day to do it.  Oh wait, crap.