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1 year ago (3/25/12)
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7 months ago
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My Blue Eyes!Oh dear God. I remember hearing it in the podcast, and I just knew it was AA material, but the imagination the animating crew has is amazing. The thing is, I was like that not too long ago. Yet, I'm sort of happy I lost my blue eyes when I was like 8. Not that I think I would risk myself for a yu-gi-oh card, but you never know what a nerd, geek, idiot, very unpopular kid, or a combination of all of the above, let's go with... Unigun! Although that sounds too awesome since it's like a gun that shoots rainbows. Oh darn, now I want it. Damn you cruel world! And with that, I depart. See ya'll!
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AshamedIn relationships, sometimes you do something stupid, and feel horrible about it. I, as a fairly stupid person myself, do slightly stupid things, which is the norm for me, but I took it too far. It makes me feel ashamed of myself. You think: Hey, what happened to the old me? What's wrong with me? Why am I doing this.
It's maddening when it comes to someone you love.
Although I am psyched that I finally got through all the RT podcasts, and I am now up to date with what's going on, because, as we all know, the RT podcast is sort of like a funny news channel.
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NothingSo many things not to do. It's hard you know, doing nothing. You'd be surprised how hard it is really. Doing nothing has been a tradition, passed down father to son for generations. All of it started from my great great great great great great... *several hours later* great great great grandfather, The Giant Sloth! He started the tradition, and died doing what he did best; nothing. So, I'd invite you all to do nothing, but that'd have me do something, which is against everything I stand for. Anyways, back to nothing. Ba-bye now.
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My StorySo, I decided I wanted to share my life story. It's long, it's sad, and it's painful, for me at the very least, but it's my life. Not trying to get attention, but I'm tired of keeping it on the low-down.
So, when I was born, I was the first guy in my family. 5 other cousins, and my sister, all girls. So my family thought having a boy was a huge deal, blah blah blah. Total bs. Within a few months my dad left alone to go to canada, and we were left without a father for a while. When I was 6 months old, my mom took me and my sister, and we got on a plane to america, where, after several gruesome hours, where I cried, a lot, we arrived and were picked up by my father in the middle of a snow storm. We drove for who knows how long, and finally made it to our new home. It was an apartment building, maybe 5-10 stories high. We reached our floor, and the smells of chinese cooking and indian cooking don't go together so well. We hurriedly opened the door, stepped inside and saw, our supposed home, completely empty. Not a single piece of furniture or anything. No idea what the hell my dad was up to during his stay. So, for a while, we lived on nothing but news papers. Sleeping, living, eating. My dad would leave supposedly for work, or whatever the hell it is he was doing, and came back in the middle of the night, leaving my mother alone to look after me, a 6 month old baby, and my sister, who was only 6 years old. Time passed, and we met someone from the same country. He said, if we wanted to survive, we would have to take peoples old furniture. They throw it out, we take it. And we lived for a couple of years like that. On old, musty, half broken items and furniture. I don't know how my mom ever made it. So I slowly grew up. Reached the age to go to kindergarden, and we moved to a new area. New place, new school, new people. Pretty frightening for a kid who does nothing at home all day. So, passed kindergarden, only to suffer more. In the middle of first grade, a couple of cops came to our door. Apparently, my parents had been fighting for quite some time. There had been complaints. My parents started getting a divorce. My dad was moving out, and I was going back to Turkey. I could barely finish first grade. So we go, I spend the summer with my family, and they decide to roll me into school there, while I barely speak any Turkish at all. You can imagine the troubles I had in class. And not too late afterwards, I started getting beat up. Commonly. So, my family enrolled me somewhere else. What happens this time? Same, damn, thing. And yet again. Until they finally decide to not send me to the second grade. I spend a year not going to school. And then my father comes. My parents make up, we pack up, and come back to canada. Except, things had changed. A lot. I was a stranger to the kids who use to be my friends. And my father, had become... Different. We met another Turkish family, who had a male child, a year older then me. We were quick friends, and spent the next two years as best friends. But during those two years, my father beat up my mother. A lot. Every sunday to be exact, but at least once a week. It was horrible on my psychology, my mothers psychology, and my sistwers psychology. So, in fifth grade, we get tickets to go to Turkey for a vacation, something we do once every two years or so. Me and my sister go ahead, and two months later my parents were suppose to come. So we go, along with my best friend and his mom, and seperate there. Last time I saw him. My uncle picks us up, we go to my grandma's house, and I feel odd for about 10 days. Then, a knock on the door, and my mom is there with my uncle. She jumped the gun, and came early. Great surprise. My dad came 2 months later, and was even crazier. Things happen, we stay, and my dad leaves. We decide to live here, without my father, who's back in canada. We go to our old home, our would-be home. A house that hasn't been used in a decade. Clean it up, fix it up, and move in. Mind you, it took a year, and we moved in before it was completely done, but it happened. I was enrolled in a middle school that I got beat up everyday, which I never complained about because I was in love. This continues for 3 years, while my dad comes every 2 years, and always leaves with a bang. And while he's in canada, he calls everyday, and talks for an hour with my mom. Lovely, isn't it? And that continued up until december 2011. Just 6 months ago. My dad came, and again, went with a bang. Leaving us in debt for a few grand, no financial help, and we decided not to talk to him again. Ever. So we changed our phones, and have been trying to keep ourselves alive.
So, that's pretty much my story.
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PodcastsAm I alive? Been buried within podcasts... 131 to be exact. And I still have to finish another 30-40 or so. Oh god why!?
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What Year Is It?!Ever watch Jumanji? Well if you did, you probably understood the title. So, I've been listening to the podcasts for a while. I'm on 72 right now but, to be honest, it's the hardest damn thing trying to go through ninety 1-Hour podcasts. That's a little off four days right? Yowza.
Weather has been pretty crazy on the East side. Doubt Rooster Teeth has any other Turkish users. I feel like a meme: Forever Alone. Give me a shout if you want some T-Delight. ^_^
Oh and by the way, WHAT YEAR IS IT!?
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Not really getting any notifications about anything. Slow week for Rooster Teeth I guess. It's always nice to read a little journal or laugh at an animated adventure. Maybe we'll get a bit more during the week-days this week!
On podcast 61 I believe. Not going very fast, but at least I know what's going on. (That's a total lie, I'm just playing it without listening. But hey, it still takes time to do that!) So, I only have 99 more to go right now, and probably by the time I get close to the end there will be 164-165 podcasts. I guess I really should speed up the process. ^_^ Ok, better get listening! Bye!
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Wierded Out By LogoMy mind is so messed up. I see the rooster and the wind up teeth for the millionth time, yet for the first time I think 'cock + mouth'. I don't know why, but now I can't look at it straight for more than 5 seconds. Crap.
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