"an anne frank diary in a lisa frank notebook"
- plato
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"an anne frank diary in a lisa frank notebook"
- plato

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You're only as old as the Fan Fiction you write

9/12/2012

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I'm afraid I might be getting old. I suppose we all are, aren't we? Literally every day we are little bit older than the day before. Thanks for nothing, unidirectional dimension!

"But Alexis," you say. "You're only as old as you feel." Yeah yeah yeah, I know the saying, Hippie Longstocking. Why don't you go and jam around on your Bong drums? The sad fact is that I feel old. Sure, I'm at the peak of my physical hotness. A cursory glance at photos from grandpa-pants high school phase and my "I'll cut and bleach my own damn hair, SOCIETY" college years will tell you as much. I'm talking about a bizarre pattern in my mental state that can only be described as senior-ly. Take a gander at these examples:
- Yells at inanimate objects that "aren't cooperating"
- Loves embroidered sweaters with cats unironically
- Uses stairs just fine, but still has phobia of falling and tearing a knee
- Uses the word "gander" in a blog post
- BAKES COOKIES

That is hella old people behavior, people! Next thing you know I'll be writing typewritten letters to the cast and crew of Matlock! And that show hasn't been on in 17 years. That show's absence from television is old enough to be a shitty, over-indulged teenager whose parents paid $175 an hour for SAT tutoring, but he still skips the exam to go to Coachella. THAT'S HOW OLD THAT SHOW ISSSSSS!

Picture
Yeah, we're still reading more after the jump around here.

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My Summer Vacation 

9/10/2012

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Boy, it sure was hot! But now it's SLIGHTLY COLDER! That must mean that fall is around the corner, waiting for us, a heavy sack of doorknobs in its hands. And when we come whistling around the corner, carefree in our madras-iest board shorts and havianas, Fall will be there to give to us our day of reckoning. For pride goes not before a Fall, but a Fall most merciless. O FALL, THY CRUELTY! THY CRUELTY KNOWS NO BOUNDS!

Before we're all crushed under the weight of the changing seasons' icy grip of death, let's take a moment to enjoy this report on WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION:

1. Cooked beans!

Summer is the time for beans. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Sure, when it's almost 100 degrees out, it may seam unreasonable to boil a pot on a stove for five hours. And it's true, nobody wants to who wrestle a hobo for his last can of beans. But once the beans are digested, summer shows its advantages via the wispy, lightweight clothing that is its signature. Who wants to get all farty in a pair of snowpants? Weirdos. That's who.

2. Learned to produce!

The title of producer has long been a mystery to me. Numerous attempts to pin down producers with a "So what do you do, exactly?" have been met with many a grumpy stare, but few words. Thus, I had no choice but to imagine all producers everywhere as overweight billionaires (bearing a striking resemblance to Chestur A Arthur) with locked drawers full of money that they only occasionally, through pure chance, can figure out how to open. As it turns out? Producers actually do stuff? Like, they produce? I learned this summer that a sufficient definition of "producing" would be "Getting shit done." Websters, are you listening? I could make your whole book like, helllllla shorter! Quit ignoring my letters!

3. Evaluated photographic representations of felines in various states of repose and conceptualized qualitative differences into an informal but comprehensive rank analysis!

This is NOT code for "looked at cat pictures online a lot" so just SHUT UP

4. Cried!

We all did. Admit it.

5. Approximately 1000 hours of comedy!

Possibly not quite that much, but people do love those nice, round numbers. And you know why? Probably because of all the holes in 'em. More places to stick your filthy bits. Man, people are sick. But yeah, I did so many comedy shows that I got a ringing in my ear and then my ears just started bleeding and bleeding and it was all over my shirt and the people around me were screaming but I couldn't hear right because my ears were bleeding and all I could feel was this weird pressure and I kept saying "What? WHAT??" and asking people to speak louder and then I noticed there was blood all over my shirt and I said "Guys I can't hear what you're saying but my shirt is ruined" and then everything went fuzzy and dark and when I woke up I was in front of my computer and I was wearing a different shirt. It was pretty hilarious.

Y'ALL COME BACK NOW
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