Sunday, December 14, 2008

JESUS GOD!!

I am so happy that I never have to write in this blog again.
I love writing, don't get me wrong, but blogging, in my eyes, is one of the cockiest types of writing ever.
Some blogs are... decent. However, most are just random rants posted publicly.
Hey bloggers........ I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.

haha, the irony of me posting this rant on a blog just hit me.

Goodbye forever, Blogger!

Monday, December 1, 2008

Well, bye for now!

2:20pm
Ellen
peace, thanks for listening.../reading.
see you in class? maybe.

2:21pm
Ethan
I'll be there.
Haha.

2:22pm
Ellen
i probably will be. i dont know though im driving around after this class and i may never return.

2:22pm
Ethan
If I were you I don't think I would ever come back.

A slice of life.

I feel like slicing off a pie-piece of life,
spoon feeding it to a frozen statue.

ELLEN'S THEORY ON "LEFT" AND "RIGHT."

"Right" is the right direction, as in, correct.
"Left" is what's left to take if you don't go the "right" way.

New best friend.

I just had the best experience.

Standing outside, smoking an American Spirit alone, hood up, probably looking very, very pissed off: me.
Took note of a man wearing a drug-rug poncho, camera case slung across his torso.
He walked by, turned, and said, directly, "Ah, another outcast."

Saturday, November 29, 2008

once upon a time

There was once a girl who used to talk shit to her clothes.
They revolted and refused to be worn.

ELLEN'S THEORY ON PATCHOULI

Patchouli is an essential oil, derived from the flower of the Patchouli plant. It is commonly associated with "hippies," also known as "longhairs," "flower children," or "DAMN HIPPIES."
Patchouli is known by most hippies to be the one and only scent that fully masks the scent of Cannabis Sativa, commonly known as "Marijuana."

Now, I have a theory about patchouli. Back in the day, hippies used to wear real patchouli oil. Real patchouli oil now is as extinct as the dinosaurs.
The current process for the manufacturing of patchouli is as follows:
Neo-hippies, wishing to be fully legit in their hippie-ness, obtain the ashes of the real hippies from back in the day. They proceed to mix the ashes with scent-free oil, purchased from your common supermarket. Next, the ashy bits are strained out. The neo-hippies massage the oil into their skin. They break out in pimples, and possibly hives, however, they have achieved the scent of a true, unwashed, bathed-in-patchouli, non-conformist hippie-douchebag. Great job, faithful free spirits!