I always wonder why did we bother

Right, this can be very comical and funny.

You put your iPod on shuffle and write down the first eighteen songs that come up. If it's a show tune, skip it. Each of the songs correlates to a category for background music in the movie of your life. Mine came out like this (very funny, but also semi-fitting):

1: Opening Theme - "Star Me Kitten" by R.E.M.
2: Waking Up - "Please" by Maxine
3: First Day At SChool - "Californication" by Red Hot Chili Peppers
4: Falling In Love - "Lazy Gun" by JET
5: Initial Fight Scene - "Complicated" by Avril Lavigne
6: Breaking Up - "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake
7: Formal - "Love Lies" by Bon Jovi
8: Neutral Times - "Highway Blues" by Marc Seales
9: Mental Breakdown - "Rich Girl" by Gwen Stefani
10: Driving Scene - "Just a Simple Plan" by Piebald
11: Flashback Scene - "Over The River And Through The Woods" by The Chipmunks
12: Getting Back Together - "Karma" by Alicia Keys
13: Wedding - "Work It" by Missy Elliot
14: Child Birth - "Barbara Ann" by The Beach Boys
15: Final Fight - "Bicycle Race" by Queen
16: Death - "Losing a Whole Year" by Third Eye Blind
17: Funeral - "Through With You" by Maroon 5
18: Credits - "Sweetness Follows" by R.E.M.

I got a giggle and a half.

AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

TEQUILA - like the song

Billy says...

El Casadores Tequila, Tequila Azul or Frita Calo Tequila, all are smooth ones... unless you meant the Pulque which is something entirely different

Because The Garage is my memo pad and I remember things on here.

break blossom/96 HEARTBEATS

i really wish you people would rawk out as hard as me.

the ruuuuuuuuuush of a guitar solo through my body. sweet jesus.



anyway. new year's eve. are we all ready for our balls to drop?

You've made a fool of everyone

Right, so I have a very, very long list of New Year's Resolutions and curiosity prompts me to ask if anybody has any themselves.

This list will grow. I decree it.

1. Excercise more.
2. Eat less.
3. Stop weighing myself every 10 minutes.
4. Get down to something like 115 lbs.
5. Attempt to appear attractive at ALL TIMES.
6. Wear less makeup.
7. Figure out why guys don't like me.
8. Make guys like me.
9. Be honest unless a) it's funny if I lie or b) I'm saving my/somebody else's ass.
10. Be way nicer.
11. Be more outgoing/friendly.
12. Finally redo my room.
13. Stop my heart from hurting.
14. Save up more money for a car.
15. Stop pushing people away.
16. Stand up/sit up straighter.
17. Join a dance class.
18. Write more.
19. Be more creative/original/unique/me.
20. Get a haircut, goddammit.
21. Dye/streak my hair.
22. Tell everyone exactly what I'm thinking (because I've previously been the model of self-restraint).
23. Try to get published.
24. Learn how to dance without looking like an idiot.
25. Cut down my texting.
26. Be more witty.
27. Keep a journal.
28. Read classic literature, like Faulkner and Hemingway.
29. Have/go to more parties.

I can't really think of any more AT THIS MOMENT, but my decree says it all.

maybe this christmas...

just wanted to wish everyone a merry christmas.

mudslingers of the milky way

you walk through a plain filled with vivid flowers. your peripheral view picks up various shades of green. several minutes of walking and there is one lonely dirt road in front of you - so you take it. you're not sure where it leads to, but you know that it doesn't lead to anywhere bad. you've hit the bottom and you're ready to throw in the towel. what else have you got to lose? as you venture deeper, the path becomes narrower and the green grass turns to dirt.

slowly, but surely, you continue to where the road takes you and you see a bridge. a wooden bridge. you walk faster, curiously. you walk onto the bridge and you are afraid at first. fear overwhelms you. but you remember that you chose to take the dirt road before, so you convince yourself there is no harm in taking chances.

you get to the middle of the wooden bridge. you admire the woodwork. you are puzzled. why is it there? you admire the sizeable gaps between each plank of wood and wonder if it is built sturdily. you go to the parapet to your left and peak your head out from over it. below you is a large chasm, and at the bottom is a rushing river. something inside you wants to jump.

you take off your shoes. you take off your shirt. you take off your socks. you stand on the railing and you look at the rampaging stream. shaking now, you get off of the railing and you depend on the wooden planks that you once thought were unreliable by planting both of your feet onto the them. you work up the courage to give your plan one more shot.

you put your hand on the railing. you stop. you feel the texture of the wood. it feels natural and it feels smooth. you reason that you don't have to worry about splinters. it comforts you. there are heads of screws driven into the planks. you think to yourself how dependent the bridge is on those small, miniscule pieces of metal.

you now put both hands on the railing and you lift your right foot. then your left. you are standing upright and are not holding on to anything. you move your head down to look below, with fear it will cause you to lose your balance. you look at your chest. you look at your arms. you don't like what you are and you don't like what you say you stand for. there were times in the past when you wanted to change things. this is your chance. you take a breath. you look up to the sky. you take another deeper breath.

another.

you start to tremble. a tear rolls down your eye.

you can't take it anymore. any pain you have ever felt - you want it gone and forgotten. you remember when you were a child that doing a cannonball was the greatest thing to do at pool parties. you think of this as a massive pool party. it's the high dive. your friends are everywhere rooting for you. they are cheering you on. you think of the lemonade glasses with one ice cube in them and the vibrant umbrellas.

the fear pours down your face and onto your neck. the fears roll down your arms. and into your hands. you want to throw your fears away and rid yourself of any reminders of hate.
this is it. it's now or never. the moment is frozen in time. it's your choice now and it's up to you. the consequences are unknown. why not take a risk? but what would everyone else say... is it wise to do this? is it really all that wise to care about what others tell you? why gamble your life just because you have a desire to do something? why not?

the sun goes down. night falls. there is darkness.






hey folks. i felt like posting. i didn't know what to say so i put on a song that i liked and wanted to see where it took me. i wrote about my trip. i'm interested to see what people got out of this, if anything. good night.

R U REDY 4 FIYR 2 Fawl?

because corinne's post was a crash and burn, i'll produce a new poll on which our views can clash.

if you could have one unearthly/divine/magical power, what would it be?

+1 for load/save feature.

Be prepared, Julie Andrews.

This is supposed to be a forum-like blog, agreed? And since I suck at regular posts, I will make a poll.
This argument has exsisted between CC and I for about a year: Which is better the talking, flying umbrella from Mary Poppins or the bottom-less carpet bag?

I'm all for the umbrella...who's with me?

Michael Jackson told Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer to trip his sausage.

Mmm....Since CC and patrick are dominating this blog, I figured I should probably sneak a post in before I get whipped by one of them.

So...here's my contribution? Yep.

The title is a reference from Chorus. We were madlibbing today, and that's one of the things that we came up with with our Kooky nouns and other parts of speech. Good times. That part was followed by 'Then how the reindeers loved him, as they shouted out 'OH YEAH'! Good stuff. Good stuff.

And thanks to Mad-libbing, we now know that Jose wants to spy on Kris Louie so that he can learn all of his Asian secrets. Oh my.

Hey. Guess what? CHRISTMAS IS COMING! And so are all those wonderfully wonderful other holidays (Although Maxime whats-his-face says that Hanukka isn't a very large Jewish holiday). With the coming of Christmas is also the coming of Glor's birthday, as well as mine (HURRAH FOR ALMOST BEING FIFTEEN!).

Hmm...I don't know what else I have to say, besides that the movie in Spanish is a bit....strange? Good, but nonsensical. It's like 'Hey-these-two-guys-who-look-nothing-alike-are-very-mistakable-so-let's-go-kill-the-musician-dude'. That confuses me. The gang guy has a mustache and a large tummy that bulges out of his very tight jeans, and just because the mariachi dude is wearing black pants and a black jacket and carrying a guitar case, he's suddenly mistakeable as a guy with a mustache and round middle and tight jeans?

::rants::

Alright. Now I'm done. Love you all! MWAH!

Bestest Blog of All Time!

Hey, guys, we should totally get into the rotation. Because this blog owns, even if it is full of shit.

http://bestestblogofalltime.blogspot.com/

I haven't posted in so long; shame on me, shame, shame. I feel so behind on this, and Christmas shopping. I've been slacking, big time. But, people shouldn't expect gifts from people because that's not what it's all about it's about giving to the other person.... which still makes me guilty. Well, my concert is tomorrow; stupid concerts, they're useless. And, of course, it will make me late for the gathering with Nick, Jen, the Wachters and my family. Oh, life is never fair, never. But hey, that's
life, isn't it?

So there, there's my post, and Merry Christmas, Happy Channuka, Happy Kwanza, and Happy New Year to all!

It's tricky to rock around

Jesus, I hate Christmas.

Oh, pun!

I haven't gotten any of you Christmas presents yet. Dad's supposed to take me on Wednesday, so that's pretty much my last chance.

This week is all filled up:

Monday - yoga and decorate Christmas tree

Tuesday - gift exchange and dinner with Nick and Jen

Wednesday - shopping for Christmas gifts

Thursday - dentist and winter concert

I also have to wrap Nick and Jen's presents today... not that I actually have presents for them.

Went to a kicking party on Saturday in Brooklyn. Nick, Steve, and I were chilling and having a good time until this kid, Arthur, latched onto us like a leech. He was a cocky sumbitch. And he was eleven. Two bad qualities. And he thought he did things well... but he didn't.

We made friends with the bamf doorman, who brought oranges out to us to throw at each other in the street when we ran out of clementines. Nick and Steve played Run Across the Road. I didn't. Neither of them died. Nick went all the way across, but Steve only went for half.

There was this weird-ass pigeon that just... sat there. Didn't move at all. No matter how close we got. I have pictures on my cell.

We chilled with this adorable little one named Plummy. What a sweetie! We were making noises with our cellphones and she was, quite simply, mesmerized. It was adorable. And she would walk away from me, and I would be sitting on the floor with my arms wide open and she'd run to me and just fall into my arms. The cat delighted her. She was just so ummy. That's a picture of ummy ummy Plummy (*rhyme*) and Jen, who almost stole her.

Friday, Cori and I chilled on the upper field. We waved to cars, hid from Chester, built a teepee, and took emo pictures. It's officially a Friday tradition: Friday, directly after school, on the upper field. Bring what you will: balls, Frisbees, Absinthe. Whatever. And remember to bring warm clothes as the cold comes. BECAUSE IT IS A TRADITION.

<--- Corinne went hunting as Pocahontas, while I, as her husband Squanto, sat at home working on the teepee.

For some reason, Nick has seemed to develop an obsession with my boobs. It's really intriguing.

So... good times.

here's who i look up to:

excuse the pun.

http://blogs.usatoday.com/ondeadline/2006/12/worlds_tallest_.html


this is exactly what tall people should be used for - extracting foreign objects from the innards of animals.

Fuck

I don't like to cry.

Ashley is dead.

And I refuse to cry.

Thigh skin

I am really motherfucking glad that the skin on my thighs isn't grafted together.

I just was very wet and walking oddly and my thighs got stuck together - holy shit, I'm fat - and I realized what a bitch it would be to have your thighs attached.

unlimited juice? this party's gonna be off the hook!

so i don't expect for any of the posts that i churn out to be literature gold. i don't expect any of them to be utter and undisputable travesties, either. if you want abominations, singingoutmyhearttou.blogspot.com is thataway >>>. i feel like posting now - especially since there hasn't been a new post in... one day.

so i got to listening to park again. park is an interesting band. their first album is all right. their second album, it won't snow where you're going, is a musical masterpiece. the album never ceases to push me down into the deepest depths of a suburban white-boy depression. it's a depressing band. their new album, building a better _____, is also good and slightly less suicidal. it's more upbeat and has some catchy tunes. huzzah!

and besides this? not much is going on. i have trimesters next week, as i have recited in previous accounts, and i "have been studying for them." actually. what i mean is that i am starting to study for them this weekend. this weekend is going to be a killlller weekend with just pure work. i don't think i'll do poorly or anything, but one can never be too sure about doing well. i do want to see people though. saturday or sunday works for me. friday i have my holiday concert which will be nice.

so my brother is back from college now. it's nice to have him back. he doesn't do much. he sleeps until i get home from school and plays lots of video games and watches lots of movies and goes on his computer a lot. mind you, his friends are still up at their respective colleges. but i must take after him because i, too, spend hours upon hours gazing into the translucent screen of a digital world with myriads of things to read.

cc - texting is 10 cents to send and 10 cents to receive. i didn’t want to text you that in fear that i would be making a fiscal error in doing so. but those are the statistics.

also! henry. i may have to postpone my gears of war get together until some time during the break. i have a lot going on this weekend. we’ll get around to it though.

anywho. figured i'd try to keep the board alive. see you guys soon.

i get a sugar ruuuuuuuuuuuush thinking of youuuuu tooooo muuuuuuuch.

and though your heart can't contain it, the anthem won't explain it, we'll carry on

Time for a 'thread' as you so call it. Either that, or Pat has violently threatened me to write one 'or else.' What the hell am I supposed to write about?

Er, I fell asleep in math today, or so I'm told. I fall asleep in all my classes or at least get very very tired. I don't know whether it's the way the teachers deliver it or what I end up thinking about during classes. Probably a combination of both.

You see, I end up thinking about all my shortcomings, my mistakes, and my regrets. I don't want to, but there's nothing stopping them from coming in and bouncing off the imaginary walls in my head. I don't even try to focus harder on what the teacher is saying. I take it all. I suppose with all the emotions I get with those memories might really make me tired. I've tried to block out the thoughts, but they're always wearing down what ever defense I can put up. Kinda like that marine game in Starcraft when I play Pat.

Well that's me. Or at least, that's what I put myself through everyday. Sometimes, through all the regrets, I hear "Someone get me out of here! Save me!" going around my head with the rest of those thoughts. It's funny though, no one seems to notice when I'm feeling like this. That just makes that cry for help louder to the point where I want to scream it out to someone. I might have a position on a poker table one day if I'm so impassive.

Sometimes I wish I was normal, or at least, my definition of normal: not cheerful, but cheery, no criticizing monologue that is just waiting for me to mess up somewhere, and that talking would come easier. Pretty much, what I'm not.

I blindly hope now that the days get better. I blindly believe what I hear about everything getting better. It's so much better than believing that "life is a crock of shit" (Timequake). The only time I would do anything blindly, is to blindly hope. Without hope, I don't think there would be any way of getting through the day.

Sorry to anyone who I may depress with this. I don't mean to. I'm just starting to think that it's about time I started to talk to people about my problems rather than just let them wreak havoc on my mentality.

pack it up pack it in, let me begin:

someone else besides me and cc should create a thread or i am going to pistol whip every last one of you.


well judging from the last couple of threads - we all have our share of problems (whether it be family/feelings for others/etc.) it made me realize that other people don't just live inside their own version of nirvana, immune to any distractions and vices. my emotional output had always been severely capped until i finally looked at the world in a different perspective and realized that i actually am my own person. there is no one out there like me. i am so happy about that. but back to what i was saying before: i was always under the impression until a short while ago that everyone lived in a perfect bubble and i was the only one that suffered from various issues.

it's no "insider's information" that i liked cc near the ending of eighth grade. and then directly thereafter began, what i would say, the biggest infatuation of my life. and to cut a looooooong six months of having mixed emotions and having endless nights of being petrified for reasons beyond my capabilities of reasoning about one person – i picked up on the fact that i had problems to deal with and i couldn’t go on living the way i was. it clicked one day, involuntarily. i slowly understood that other people, too, had problems to deal with. i'm glad i'm not the only one. i always thought i was the only one that had a complex and perplexing mind that would get clogged from a series of worries and doubts and fears. it's not easy, i tell you. the reason i bring this up is not to revel in my past miseries with hopes to glean some spare sympathy. i bring this up to show that i know what it feels like to feel like there is nowhere to turn. i know what it feels like to be tired of living life. i know what it feels like to have to wake up everyday with no sunshine and no warmth. i know what it feels like to be alone in a foreign place with no one to joke around with. i know what it's like to want to press the STOP button time just so you can catch your breath from everything around you. i know what it feels like when the walls are about to close in on you and you regret not preparing for it beforehand.

i recovered. everyone can.

problems are not uncommon. problems have their degrees. problems are not fun.


on a lighter note:

who's up for some ralph's on saturday night. i think thegarage should head out for pizza and lavamonsters on the beach on saturday night to celebrate the forum that cc conceived one night from inside of her digital womb. i also have trimesters the week after and it'll be nice to see everyone before i take them, too.


godspeed and i love you all.

Yeah, I know

Okay, I totally get I've been posting like a wildabeast lately. But I have a lot of feelings. And that last post I feel my friends deserved as an explanation.

But I'm miserable.

And I hate crying.

I'm tired of crying and I'm tired of looking at those long, black mascara streaks in the mirror, and I'm tired of opening my wrists with one of those jumbo paper clips.

I'm tired of the noise.

My dad finally comes home tonight. I'm always excited to see him - his visits are rare and he truly loves me. But his visits are always populated with screaming. With glasses breaking. With arguments, all the time.

They argue about money. Sure. Don't all parents? I mean, my mom and my brother and I survive on very minimal amounts of money that Dad allots us. So my mom needs checks, and I understand that they argue about that.

But do they have to argue about Steven and I? Do they have to use us for leverage? When I get pissed at my dad because I don't have lunch money, my mom uses that against him. When I open up to Dad because Mom's taking her anger out on us, he reminds her of it.

Dad taught me about a lot of things I love: skiing, boating, lacrosse (which I don't really love), and he's always been a great dad. He lets us stay up late and rent movies and go out for dinner and pretty much do what we want.

And he's gone.

I can't help but think Mom drove him away. It's not fair, I know.

I just want to run away. I want to get away from the noise and my tears. Away from everything.

I can't stand it when my mom cries after one of his visits. It breaks me apart. But I have so much anger.

Dad left when I was, what, two? I claim that my earliest memories at about seven, but you know why I say that? So I don't have to remember sitting in the staircase, leaning against the wall, holding the banister, hearing glasses breaking and screams echoing.

They love to hate each other. It's so wrong.

I need my dad around.

But I hate them both.

Troy

Right. This is one of those things that I don't like to share with anybody and don't really want anybody to know about - and yet post on my blog.

This is the reason I've been acting airy/ditzy/distracted lately.

It's both been making me depressed and extremely happy.

But more depressed. And, if I can ask you guys a favor, I request that you don't give this link to anybody. So we can kind of keep it between friends. I know that I express myself way better in writing than in words. So it can be easier for me to communicate this way.

And if I know non-friends are reading it, I won't feel safe.

So, be cool, yeah?

Oh, and the below isn't good, so don't comment on my writing style, just on the actual event itself.

Why is it
that the simplest things
turn out to create
the most trouble?
Or perhaps not create
but at least
stand witness to.
Just a simple
plain
white
V-neck
Old Navy tee shirt.
And
a pair of
very ordinary
blue jeans.
Less ordinary things:
a large
blue
crystalline pool.
A graceful dive,
shockingly provocative
in an
inexplicable
way,
just as
the door swings open
wide
and a boy
walks in the room.
Troy.
Resurface and
he'll be standing
in the bathroom
at home,
and you,
you'll be kneeling
upright
in the chipped
porcelain
bath tub.
Heart
bruising
the rib cage,
because it's obvious
that all those
times when it
wasn't sure what
A N Y B O D Y
felt.
Jeez, those times
were so
irritating
and difficult.
So words
fall out
in
the same
amount of order
as a kindergarten class.
"That wasn't for you"
for Troy
but wishing
so desperately
that he
Troy
would hope it was,
so in a bolder move,
add,
"But
if you want it to be
for you"
for Troy
"it was."
And you know
all of a sudden
that he would accept
that bold move
that was so hard
to finally make.
So the shirt,
small details
of it
somehow seeming
utterly insignificant,
comes over the head
with the cross-arms
move
that makes
those luscious
delicious
perfect
beautiful
veins
P O P
out
on his
on Troy's
arms.
Sure,
it's fabulous
on any guy,
but on his
on Troy's
it seems more special.
Like they're
P O P P I N G
for
somebody
special.
He
Troy
isn't wearing
boxers,
it seems.
Not sure.
But it feels
so good
because
the want
is so strong
that he
Troy
just jumps right in
kneeling upright
like you
in front of you
his jeans wet
in the water of the bathtub.
And you
press together.
Lips meet.
One heart
beats furiously
for sure.
The other
not so certain.
But the rest
isn't so eagerly
remembered.
The
pulling away.
It doesn't
fit
with the rest
of the
explosion of feeling
you usually only
experience alone
at night
in your bed.
So
ignore the rest
and just
remember
him
Troy
wanting
you.

i love when katie laughs

all right. looks like we have ourselves a forum. this is neat.

just so the garage can have some ammunition to prove itself to, in fact, be a real forum, i'm going to summarize this evening's events.

so i was returning back from bayville doing some errands with my pa and ma when i get a text from cc asking if i was going to mike's. since mike "doesn't have a cell phone" there was no way he could contact me. incorrect. i was talking to him on AIM that morning and i had spoken to him the day before. oh well.

so i showered all quick like and then i brushed my teeth - while mike was at the door. i hurried up and then jumped into the car with both my wii remotes and their nunchuck companions. we headed to special moments to pick up a special gift for hayden, it was her birthday friday (happy birthday), and then we drove for about forty-seven minutes towards center island.

mike's mother and larry are currently in switzerland doing God knows what. i hope it involves bringing me back chocolate; one can only hope. at any rate - mike, cc, hayden, katie, and i voyaged upstairs and stumbled upon mike's current "basement" where he spends(wastes) all of his time. we got the wii up and running. hayden made a mii.

TENNIS! tennis was next. we did this for about an hour or so? and then we decided to leave mike's rad pad to see if we could find hayden's old house. we did this and spent some time at several of the beaches there.

at one point, i decided to run up a hill (who wouldn't) and i took an intentional wrong turn to see what i could find. it was really beautiful. see, i don't ever go to center island besides going to larry's. these roads/houses/surroundings were all new to me. it was marvelous - walking in an unknown area and learning.

we went back to mike's and had pizza.

we returned to the upstairs where we played more wiitennis and mike challenged me to a long awaited game of boxing. aaaaaaaaaand i beat his ass down like i do every time in rl(real life.) it was fun. then i hugged cc for a good five minutes, then mike cracked my back, then i cracked mike's, then aunt bonnie walked into the room and thought mike and i were taking part in some gaysex rituals, and then we wrapped it up and went home.

as mike's automatic car door shut, it sounded like a broken chainsaw.

have a good day/night. i really don't want to go to school tomorrow at all. i also have trimesters (think of them as midterms) next week and i fear that i will do poorly. we shall see. christmas is coming up though, so that's radinacan.

what are we all looking to get for christmas this year?

Godspeed.

Right

Right, so this is what I'm thinking.

Since we've all got all of our "Ooooh I'm going to try out CC's great idea" jitters out, we can start having a for hizzle rizzle blog like Patrick and I discussed.

After this post, every post is going to be like a thread. The author will discuss an event/issue/whatever and then the comments will be a forum.

And, yes, I know it was a great idea.

Remember, I still have my old blog: www.swedesrockharder.blogspot.com

And Patrick has his: www.clumpofsoul.blogspot.com

And Henry has his: www.weapologizefortheinconvience.blogspot.com

And people who I might ask to join (Nick, Jess, Corinne) have theirs.

The rest of you have NO EXCUSE - I repeat, NO EXCUSE not to update frequently!

ENJOY MY BRAIN SMARTS!

And just remember our motto - We're full of shit.

this is going to be wild

i'm very content. this was a great idea, cc. let's be sure to keep it alive and monitor it every so often. let's not let it die.

YAY! This is my first blog and i'm contributing to this blog by writing this. THIS IS GONNA BE SOO MUCH FUN! FYI: I am 13, the youngest in this blog
I have the best friends ever (kinda cheesy, i know)
People, say i'm exceedingly gorgeous, although i don't agree with them
I am 5'2, have brown hair and green eyes
My name is Hayden Bryn Tomanek
I'm British, Zcech (i think that's how u spell it, whatever), and American

and that's all, not really

but i will post more

Every Neon Light in Sight Spells Out Your Name

Hurrah! I got the thrid post! Which means that I have a treasure chest!

So...does that mean Henry has a hairy chest?

Anyway. Yeah. I agree that this is a stupdendously spectacular idea. We're going to have a bunch of good times in writing and things that we can re-read when we're bored. Because we're just that pathetic. Or, at least, I am.

Alright. That's all I've got to say for now. So...I guess that's all. I love you guys! Farewell for now and all that Jazz

Would you have the guts to say, I dont love you, like I loved you yesterday?

Nice second post! This is I have to say pretty cool. I don't even have to do all the writing. I hope what I do write is worth something to someone though. Just to fill some space. I'm listening to 'I Don't Love You' by My Chemical Romance. Pretty much the entire album kicks ass. I'm kinda bored right now. Um, I think people are still having trouble getting onto the blog. I laugh at them. Hahaha. Ahem. Well I'll write something in the future I'm sure, otherwise good night.

okay.

it seems like everyone is having a hard time using the internet.

1. open the email you got concerning The Garage
2. make the account they tell you to - gmail
3. set it up with blogspot
4. your email that you got the e-mail with is now linked to your gmail which is linked to blogspot
5. this enables you to post and do fun stuff on the blog