Youth group leaders, nerds, and other people you don't want to talk to at Walmart

Have you ever met up with someone you haven't seen in 4 or 5 years and at first are like "Oh hey! I haven't seen you in forever...so long that I don't know your name at all," and then they start talking and you suddenly are reminded of why you haven't thought of them constantly for the past 5 years?

And the whole time you're in Walmart, so after saying "Hi," and "Bye," the first time, you keep running into them again when you get to the end of each aisle and you feel like someone has to make a witty remark every time you pass each other...

Well, maybe it hasn't happened to you, but that was kind of how my day started. It was this woman who used to be the youth director at church. I could tell the whole time that she was trying to figure out either my mom or my name and still acted like everyone in the world wanted to talk to her daughter.

Ummm...yourdaughter was a snotty brat the whole time I knew her when she lived here...why would I be looking forward to running into her later today? What's even more annoying is that this woman uses her daughter's name in every sentence and never subsitutes a pronoun. God, that's annoying.

It's like...okay, we used to konw each other. That's great...we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Let's keep it that way. I guess it's not that big of a deal. I actually had written all of this in a conversation with Katie a little while ago. I figured that since I'd already said it, I'd just post it here, since it's what I planned on blogging about today. This next part will also be taken from our conversation, but I'm still having this part of the conversation, so I'll be posting it here as I say it. It's kind of like live streaming, but not really, because you aren't going to be able to read this until I'm done typing it all anyway. Too bad for you.

Now my next part is on nerds. Not just nerds, but nerd fathers. The ones who have the nerd sons and the overweight wives that stand behind you in the Walmart checkout line with a big TV in their buggy. The ones that are somehow wearing the same Zelda shirt (but in a different shade of green) that you put on that morning, but instead of sporting it to the world, it's buried under a jacket and a hoodie. Nothing against The Legend of Zelda, though. My shirt's just too big, so I don't show it off. Well, it was ironic in how that actually happened. My mom was standing in front of me in line and she said, seemingly out of nowhere, "Hey, don't you have that shirt?" and I, of course, said, "What shirt?" "The one that guy behind you is wearing." I look. It's the exact same shade of the one my brother got me for my birthday (I guess it's Hot Topic's version of a "new model"). "Ha, yeah, I'm actually wearing that shirt right now, just in a different shade of green." So she laughs...but I feel the need to show a fellow Zelda fan that we're in the same hood. Kind of like a Fight Club thing. So I take off my jacket and my hoodie...awkwardly turn around and say, "Hey, that's a nice shirt you got on." "Heh...thank you," he says in the stereotypical "I'm a nerd, but I'm trying to communicate with the general public" kind of voice. That made me feel really awkward, needless to say. No follow-up, just a thank you. Well, I guess it's better than him asking me in-depth questions about the games or where the last Golden Skultula in Ocarina of Time is or something.

I guess I can't really blame them for growing up differently than I did...but maybe I can. The point is that they never REALLY grew out of it. What I'm trying to say is...there should be a point in every nerd's life that he realizes...well this is just a game. A very fun game, but a game, nonetheless. Maybe I should make myself look better and get a hot girlfriend. Maybe that's just the very cruel-to-nerds road I took in life. The first girl I really liked was a super nerd and now we don't talk at all. But some nerd guys are still dieing over her. I guess it's all perspective. All I know is that she probably still likes me (from like what? 6th? 7th grade?) and she hates me for having sex. Sorry. I got a life, you still watch Yu-Gi-Oh and duel every Friday at the same time. I play Pokemon games when they come out and beat them like games should never be beaten. I almost abuse them. But then when I'm done, the game is over.

You have to draw the line between nerd stuff and life at some point. Or maybe you don't. After all, you're the one in line with a huge fucking TV in your buggy and a son and a wife that is still with you and I'm the one buying a pack of gum with the quarters I found.

I sure can't claim that I'm the one that's got it all figured out, but I can say that I'm dreading my highschool days a lot less than you did. And it's not like I don't try to talk to people like you. You're just always so bitter to everyone expecting for me to always be looking for a way to insult you without it sounding like an insult. If I was really here to insult you, would I be wearing this over-sized Zelda T-shirt? I hardly think so. So to any nerds reading this, I'm here to talk to you about the secret bridge to social life. It's not that hard to find. If you can find the invisible blocks on Mario Bros, you can find this "secret bridge."


That's all I've got for you folks for today. I'm going to bed soon. I've got to go worship god in the morning. Yipee.

love,
Kyle

My band is famous because our lead singer is a crack baby

Did you read my last blog entry? As I was sure was completely possibly of happening, neither of the possible plans for the day worked out. No I Forget playing and no Step-Brothers watching at Jimmy's. Instead, there was shopping. Lots and...well, not that much of shopping. I got a Fender '51 Precision Bass, though. That's exciting and worth mentioning, right?

So I'm a bit of a narcissist, I'll admit. After taking a few weeks of Marketing class, everything I do is applied to selling a product (seeing my Marketing class teacher, Mrs. Gurtler, at Walmart today didn't help that issue). By that, I mean that when I talk to someone, I try to remember that I'm trying to sell my body, basically. Every time I interact with another person, I'm being a prostitute. No, but I do remember that talking a lot about myself and not letting the customer be involved can lead to them getting pissed off at me and/or get bored with me. So the girl that keeps coming up in my blogs and I talked last night around midnight, I'd say. I apologized for only talking about myself and then I talked about myself some more. I'm wonderful. So she eventually said something about Paramore and liking them and I was like "Yeahhhh...I don't want to talk about what you like," basically. Of course, I didn't say that or really mean that. All I meant was that Paramore is not my thing. But it wasn't very smooth of me, I must admit. So what did I do with my free time today? I listened to Paramore. [-.-]

But you know, I don't really feel so bad about not liking them so much now. You know why? Because I am a boy. Boys don't like Paramore, almost by rule. I realized that I don't know a single boy that likes Paramore. I know a shit ton of girls that like them, but not a single guy. Why is this? Well, simply because Paramore is targeted to teenaged girls. It's true. Sexist? Maybe. True? Definitely. I'd love for someone to give me a list of 5 boys that like Paramore.

Okay, here's why, now after listening to them, I'm not a huge fan.
-All of their songs are depressing, man. |:(
-All of their songs are depressing
-They did a song for Twilight (also a chick thing, I think)
-Did I mention their songs all sound depressing?

I think you get the gist of that. Biggest thing...why can't you write a happy-sounding, upbeat song now and then? Not even their singles are upbeat, except maybe the one, but it's not real real upbeat. Also, I kind of hate how all of the songs have that annoying like...echo-y random diminished chord guitar picking. You know what I mean? The ones that just make you uneasy...

But I'll be straight with you on everything else about them.
-The vocal melodies aren't BAD
-The music is, for the most part, pretty alright (other than a lot of minor keys all of the time)
-The drummer seems pretty solid
-I don't pay attention to the rest of the music

Overall? I'd pick them over Kelly Clarkson or most things mainstream? At the same token, I was very happy to listen to The Living End directly afterwards.

Do I think Paramore is a bad band? No. Do I think people shouldn't call them "pop punk" ever? Yes. Good thing is that I don't think Paramore ever call themselves pop punk. Call your band "pop punk" and not be pop punk, I will hate it.


But enough about Paramore, I don't care enough about them to keep writing about them. So my friend Alex, who reads this (and is probably one of the very few that do), has been convinced by me to start a blog. Why do I think blogging important? Because Alex and I have a lot to say (or in my case, enough to say to last about 3 blogs and then I start making shit up) and people need to be exposed to our minds! I think anyone that feels that the world and society need some change mentally should write a blog, write a song, or get their message across in anyway possible. You know what's beautiful about blogs that separates them from say...punk songs? Blogs aren't a genre, so "3 chord songs are shitty," etc. aren't valid arguments here.

Enough about blogs now, Christmas is coming! You know what that means? I'm sure you do, and I'm not going to try to be a smartass and use recycled derrogatory statements about how Christmas is just a marketing stunts and it's filled with fat men and the midgets that follow, etc. I am going to say this: I'm probably getting like 5 gifts this year. Let's review: a couple CDs, a new iPod, a minifridge, a Monty Python DVD collection, and that Fender '51 P-Bass I got today. That's probably going to be about it. As I went to Walmart and found the things I wanted, I realized that they were ALL over $100. I hate asking for that kind of shit. Let's do a Mastercard commercial.

Fender '51 P Bass: $650
16GB iPod: $200
Flip camera: $127
Minifridge: $105
Having the nerve to ask for that many fucking expensive things: priceless?

I didn't even ask for the camera. I walked towards it, caught it's price tag, and then acted like I wanted to show my dad something else I wanted. Expensive little shits.

My balls itch, so I'm gonna go.

love,
Kyle