How NOT to Get Hit On

Mind Two:

Every year, my family and I take a little vacation to Montana to go skiing. It is super fun and super cold and we always have a great time. Well, from here, Montana is about an 8 hour drive. Long and boring and nothing to look at except trees. And then add in two younger siblings,  both of whom never shut up. The getting there almost kills me every year and then I think to myself, "I am never doing this again" and then I get on the mountain and everything is fine. This year was a little different.

When we got there, I realized I had forgotten my hat. Montana is always cold, especially in March, when it is like -200 degrees. I couldn't really go skiing without a hat, so my dad took me to the local sporting goods store. I got a hat, and then I lost my dad. Turns out, he found out they were having a sale on skis, so he had to buy some. That took a really long time. I got tired of waiting, so I went over to the magazine rack and started flipping through them. Pretty soon, this dude just comes over and starts talking to me. He is being all flirty and trying to get my number and, like the expert I am, I was dodging all of his questions. Then he had to leave and I was saved.

Now, let me tell you why this is so funny. For one thing, I looked like a cancer patient that day. Not even kidding. I had been driving all day, so I was having a bad hair day. When we got to the store, I figured I would just put the hat on. Then that would at least fix the hair. Well, it actually made it worse. See, when I get really tired, I get these big, dark circles under my eyes. Well, I was tired and cranky. When I put the hat on, it made me look like I was bald. With being bald and having dark circles and wearing sweats, I was a cancer patient.

Another time I got hit on was at a rodeo. I was sitting in the stands and the rodeo was over. We had spotted some friends and were going to go over and talk to them, so we were waiting till the crowd dispersed. I was talking to my brother, still sitting down, and sitting sideways, letting people by me. All of a  sudden, someone falls into my lap. It is a little boy, probably 7 or 8. I caught him, so I was holding on to him. I unlatched him from me and helped him stand up. His mom was right there and as they were walking away, I hear his mom say "That is NOT how you pick up girls!" I almost died laughing. Someday, that little boy is going to be a real ladies man.

The last (funny) time I got hit on was at a basketball game. This kid I grew up with is a freaking stud at basketball, so my family likes to go watch him play. It was half-time and I went to go get a drink. I am standing in line and this little kid is behind me. All of a sudden, he taps me on the waist. (He was like 5 so I don't think he could reach my shoulder). He said "Your really pretty," and then handed me a piece of paper with an address written on it. After he handed it to me, he said, "Feel free to babysit anytime." That is one smooth little kid.

Mind one

That is in fact one smooth little kid. That amused me deeply. I've got a few stories like that. Buuuut. I don't want to embarrass anyone. (I just actually don't want to relive that...)

So I'm going to draw mind two as a cancer patient.

Baby corn and other scary things

Mind one here.

Baby corn.
Have you ever noticed those weird little midget baby corn things that salad bars always try to get you to put on your salad??? Those creepy little corn's that look like they have some sort of disease?? WHAT ARE THOSE??? ARE THE A DIFFERENT SPECIES OF CORN? OR ARE THEY JUST CORN FETUSES???? WHAT ARE THEYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!

Alright, obviously I feel rather strongly about these corn things, but they creep me out. I honestly think that they are corn fetuses. Like maybe some sadistic creep of a farmer runs out in his fields, and tears these poor corn fetuses from their mothers. Then sells them to stores and restaurants all excited like "Look!! A new kind of corn! It's okay! I didn't tear baby corn from its mother or anything! They're good!!" Excuse me sir, but uh...screw. you. You sick, twisted, despicable being.

Grasshoppers.
They bite. They jump straight at your face. They are the Kamikaze's of the bug world. They have huge spine like things on their legs. Did I mention they bite???? (Mind Two adding. Did you also notice that they seem to come out of nowhere?? Your just walking along and all of a sudden BOOM! There is a green bug on your face. Gross.)

Birds.
I don't care if its tweety bird, seeing a puddy tat. Or a sixty pound vulture circling ready to puke on my face. Ever since a bird crapped on my head in middle school, I have an epic paranoia. Now every time a bird flies by I run around flapping my hands, and diving for shelter like the Germans are bombing. Birds, Suck!!!!



Mind Two:

Mosquito's.
They are like Vampire bugs. They suck your blood! And they are able to fly. Freaking super-hero vampire bugs. That nobody likes.

Feet.
I think the only explanation this one needs is "gross". Seriously, dude. They are at the bottom of your body for a reason. If they were meant to touch other people, they would be called hands. 'Nuff said.

Tapioca Pudding
I also happen to love pudding. (Another hint.) But tapioca, you have got to be kidding me. I am just eating this creamy deliciousness when all of a sudden, a chunk. GROSS. It makes me feel like I am eating rotten milk.

Robert Pattinson
Seriously, you guys? Your in love with him? He isn't even that cute. And he sucks at acting. Big time. Also, he seems to be very self-centered. I'm just saying.

Drivers ed rage!!

Mind Two:

Drivers ed might go into the summer.

Yes, you heard right. I am going to have to spend my first week of summer sitting in a classroom pretending to pay attention. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT IS LIKE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? The answer is no, you don't. So I don't even wanna hear about how the first week of summer you are going to Hawaii or haha, it sucks to be you. Seriously, if you say something like that, I will cut you. Don't think I am kidding, cuz I am a ginger and we are serious about everything. Did you get that? EVERYTHING. Right now, I am so mad. I was supposed to be sleeping and working and THAT WAS ALL! But no, now I have to do this and I CAN'T EVEN GET MY LICENSE UNTIL IT'S OVER!!!!!! Yes, that really did need that many exclamation points.

Mind one:

Sadly, I didn't hear right. I read right, seeigns how we type this blog... :) I have a very good idea what thats like because, I SIT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!  I have front row seats to seeing people smashed to bits, smeared on the pavement, and literally thrown around like rag dolls. Oh and the instructor? He has a mustache. Like a Magnium P.I. mustache. He wears only blue, tan, and grey its seriously one of the most boring wardrobes I've ever seen in my life... Listening to this man for three hours every monday, is horrible.... I literally find myself thinking about math homework while he is talking...MATH!!! Do you even realize how bad that is???? Mother of god....

Anyways. This blog wasn't as funny so I'll throw in a bonus story and draw you a picture...

A few weeks ago I got roped into helping at a middle school track meet. So I was walking around the meet with a clipboard screaming at middle school idiots to "GET IN YOUR FREAKIN LANE YOU MORONS!!!!" I was checking in kids for the one hundred meter dash, and so far it had been the usual collection of jocks, wanna-be's, and up and comings. Then I heard it... It was somewhere between a lisp and a harelip. Its impossible to describe, he lisped on words that didn't even have a lisp. He comes up to me and says. "Hallo. Ie Wuld liketh tho sheck ehn fahr thee hahndred mether dashk." I of course, didn't understand a bleeding word of that, and after having him repeat it twice I finally could understand, and asked for his name. This poor kid, he couldnt even pronounce his own name!!! I was trying soooo hard to not even twitch at him, I honestly felt bad for him... And now I feel like an utter jerk because after he had pointed his name out to me and got his lane number, he made the mistake of double checking to make sure he got everything correct.
Him: "Shou. Ah amn ehn lahne nahmbur fuur cahrrecth?"
Me: "Yeth, yeth yah ahre." *facepalm*

I literally hit my face with the clipboard, I cant even believe I said that... This poor kid was slightly overweight, and mexican....

Awkwardddddd.......

Mind one:
I am seriously starting to abuse the phrase "That awkward moment when..." So I'll write down some of my favorites for you guys..
"That awkward moment when you want to follow Hyperbole and a half, but it has the Maximum number of followers."(Seriously now?? You can limit followers? That's like trying to limit popularity.)

"That awkward moment when someone quotes your own blog back at you., and you don't recognize it."

"That awkward moment when someone tells you an awkward moment while your writing about awkward moments."

"That awkward moment where your new friends girlfriend gives you a psycho glare while your talking to him, and he doesn't introduce you."

"That awkward moment when the awkward moment above this one is really specific and now people know exactly what your talking about."

"That awkward moment when I should really delete it, but I'm not coming up with as many of these as I thought I would."

"That awkward moment when you have to google more awkward moments."

"That awkward moment when you tell a friend "BRB" and then forget about them."

"That awkward moment when you go scuba diving, yell that you see a baby whale, but it's really just Adele rolling in the deep."

"That awkward moment when you look smoldering sexy in the mirror, take a picture, and look like a troll."

"That awkward moment when you hit your own banana in Mario cart because your retarded and threw it in front of yourself." (Mind Two: Happens to me ALL. THE. TIME.)

"That awkward moment where you drop your cocaine in the snow, then its lost."

"That awkward moment when you wake up and your friends arm is across you and your spooning like an old married couple."

"That awkward moment when a girl has so much make up on your not sure if she had just got back from paint-balling, or if she got into a fist fight with a box of Crayola's."

"That awkward moment when your on a real blogging roll and the bells about to ring."

"That awkward moment when your doing a field event in track, and your in the hole, and your the only one that giggles."

"That awkward moment where  you hide in your closet hoping to find Narnia, and get taken to Monsters inc. instead."

"That awkward moment when you look across the room and Mind two is writing on a different blog post at the same time."

"That awkward moment where I just notice I started this post twice...."

Mind Two:

I don't have very many of these because I never say this. Ever. I am pretty sure I have used this phrase like once in my life. I will try to come up with some.

"That awkward moment when you go to hug someone super sexy and your face hits the mirror."

Yep, that's all I have.

Coffee rage

Mind one here.
Now I know that we have already raved on and on about coffee and its many great qualities. But today I suffered from the adverse effects of coffee. I like to call these manic fits of giggles, and extreme violence, Coffee rage.

Coffee rage can rear its ugly head at any point in the day, but it likes mornings the best. C.R usually hits when you haven't had any coffee yet, and you brain is screaming. "GIVE ME CAFFEINE NOW, OR ILL KILL US BOTH!!!" And your sitting there helpless, as your own inner voice verbally abuses you, and threatens your very life. "Seriously mind? Chill out, I got this." Coffee rage makes normal, put together people, become raging slavering beasts that look like extras from that Will Smith movie, I am Legend. It's unattractive.

Coffee rage doesn't have to strike before you've had your coffee, it can literally hit anywhere, anytime, anyplace. Which means its down right impossible to cure. The second form of coffee rage usually hits about ten o'clock in the morning, right about now as I'm writing this post. This rage is caused by too much coffee, too early, when you haven't eaten. So all your body has to run on is this high energy drink, and in my case, its spiked with Irish Cream coffee creamer, because thats exactly what I need in the mornings, caffeine and sugar....This is the kind of rage that gets you wound tighter than Jack Twist at the P.B.R. (Brokeback mountain refernce. YOU SEE WHATS HAPPENING TO ME????) This rage hits, and all of the sudden you cant form a thought with more than three words. It took me like seven tries to type that sentance up there, because the rage hit me mid-post.

Here's a look into how my brain feels right now. This is me. And this is my mental voice.  

"DON'T START A BLOG POST, DO YOUR MATH!!!!"
"Shut up!! I already did my math, you watched me do it."

"ARE YOU BACK SASSING ME??????? I DONT WANT US TO FAIL, NOW BUCKLE DOWN AND DO YOUR FREAKING ASSINGMENT!!!!!!!!"
"Stop yelling at me!!! I told you I already did the stupid assingment!!! Stop being so freaking negative!!"

"DO NOT YOU DARE BACK TALK TO ME YOUNG LADY!!!"
" 'Do not you dare'? Really now brain, this is the kind of screwed up grammar that gets us into trouble. And young lady? We are the same age cause guess what? YOU'RE ME!!!!!!!"

"I wouldn't have to yell about it if you weren't so easily distracted, I'm just trying to make you focus, I'm doing me a favor here."
"I'm so not easily distracted, shut your face. Whoa!!! Unicorns? Sick!!!"

"...see thats what I'm talking about, your an idiot."
"Your a jerk self, you are a jerk."

I'll draw you a picture of coffee rage later. It's scary stuff..

Mind Two:
I totally agree. Have you ever had coffee rage at night? That is some scary stuff. Let me tell you a story.

One day, I woke up in the morning and felt really good...ALL BY MYSELF! That's right, no coffee was needed. I was super excited. I was all like "Lets go do something that takes an insane amount of energy!" (Super bad idea). So then I went and jumped on the trampoline for a super long time and I still wasn't tired. So then I went swimming in our pond and did about five hundred laps and I still wasn't tired. So then I did a whole bunch of other stuff that normally makes me very tired and grouchy (like my chores that are supposed to get done once a week and usually get done once a month-ish) and I still wasn't tired. By this time, I was getting worried. See, it was getting really late and I really needed to sleep that night because I work at a coffee shop and I had to get up super early the next morning to go to work. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't tired. Then, as I was talking to my brother, he had the brilliant idea that maybe I wasn't tired because I didn't have my coffee that morning. Then he told me I should drink some RIGHT NOW! And I did. (In my defense, he had a really long and thought out explanation of why I should do this and when my brother starts talking for longer than 5 minutes, I zone out until he's done.) This was at 6. When I went to bed at 9, (work super early. Don't judge me.) my brain went into hyperactive mode.

"HEY REMEMBER THAT TIME THAT WE WENT TO THE ONE PLACE WITH THE ONE THING AND IT WAS SUPER FUN?! IM CHOOSING NOW TO REMIND YOU OF IT!

HEY REMEMBER THAT MATH QUIZ THAT YOU TOTALLY BOMBED LAST YEAR? I REMEMBER HOW TO DO IT...ALL OF IT!

HEY YOU KNOW THAT SONG WE LOVE? I AM GOING TO SING IT TO YOU UNTIL YOUR EARS BLEED! DOESN'T THAT SOUND FANTASTIC?!"

After that there was mucho yelling at myself and telling myself to shut up and my whole family asking if I was ok. Then I went to sleep and dragged my butt to work the next day. Good thing I work in a coffee shop.

Here is the picture Mind one promised!!!!!!!! :D

Now. This is the first picture I've ever drawn at home on paint. And this is not the simple old paint from elementary school. We are talking, every  color under the rainbow. Differant brushes and crap. I think that writing might have been a caligraphy pen. I dont even know. This is madness. (THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAA!!! I have a serious 300 obsession. Maybe I'll blog about that next :DDD)

What ever. That's my face when my need for coffee hits the point where I could easily morph into a Dawn of the Dead extra. Wild staring eyes. With differant sized pupils... My legs mysteriously shrink up into my body so I have to scurry around on six inch legs. My arms get indecently long, and two fingers on each had go completely A.W.O.L. It is just unpleasant. I'll go back to playing with paint now. This is some intense crap.....Blog on reader. Blog on. <333

Dear Follower

Mind Two:

Ok so I was surfing the internet the other day (or reading a magazine, I don't really remember) and I came across this really funny site. It lets people write fake letters about anything. I am not going to give you the web address because I am selfish  and want it all to my self (and because I really can't remember it), but I will share some of them with you.

Dear The Movie,
Meh.
Sincerely, The Book.

Dear Noah,
We could have sworn you said you were leaving at 5.
Sincerely, The Unicorns

Dear Homework,
They may be doing you, but all they can think about is me.
Sincerely, Summer

Dear Icebergs,
Sorry to hear about global warming. Karma's a bitch.
Sincerely, the Titanic

Dear Nazis,
You did what?!?!? I said I hate JUICE!
Sincerely, Hitler

Dear New Mexico,
Way to be creative with your name.
Sincerely, Mexico

Dear Americans,
You'd have cool accents too if you didn't throw all that tea in the water.
Sincerely, The British

Dear Gingers,
It could be worse.
Sincerely, Albinos

Dear Facebook,
Someday, they'll all leave you too.
Sincerely, MySpace

Dear Myspace,
I'm sorry, what was the name of your movie?
Sincerely, Facebook

Dear Rehab,
BRB
Sincerely, Lindsey Lohan

Dear Peanut Butter,
I saw you with chocolate. Don't think I don't know about banana too!
Sincerely, Jelly

Dear Math Teacher,
I know you think "real life situations" are fun, but that is not how I would find the height of the Empire State Building.
Sincerely, Teenager who knows how to use Google

Dear people who think Romeo and Juliet is a love story,
Its the story of a 3-day affair between a 13 year old and a 17 year old that ended in 6 deaths.
Sincerely, everyone who actually read the story.

Dear Hogwarts,
Do you have a foreign exchange program?
Sincerely, a muggle who really wants to be a witch.

Dear Tampon Inventors,
How awkward was it to pitch that idea to your co-workers?
Sincerely, I would have died laughing

Dear Guys Who Wear Skinny Jeans,
Wow you look really manly.
Said no one ever.

Dear Mother Nature,
I would like to cancel my monthly subscription.
Sincerely, women everywhere.

Dear Students,
I know when your texting.
Sincerely, no one ever looks at their crotch and smiles.

Dear America,
You produced Miley Cyrus. Justin Bieber is your punishment.
Sincerely, Canada

Dear Twilight Fans,
Thank you for making us look sane and well-adjusted.
Sincerely, Trekkies

Dear Yahoo,
I've never heard anyone say "Let's Yahoo! it".
Sincerely, Google

Dear Sirius Black,
What's your middle name?
Sincerely, I hope it's Lee.

Dear World,

Sincerely, ninjas

Dear Edward,
Your doing it wrong.
Sincerely, Dracula

Dear William and Kate,
If William is 100% royal and Kate is 0% royal, will that make your son the Half-Blood Prince?
Sincerely, Just Curious

Dear Bella,
Heard you got pregnant and almost died. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Sincerely, Coach Carr

Ok, I'll stop now. But seriously you guys, I have like 50 more.

Mind one.

Mind two just made me laugh until I did some majorly unnattractive snorting and hit my face on the desk. I tried finding this website, but I gave up and decided to be funny and brilliant on my own.

....Yeah, I got nothing. You win this round Mind two. But I did make cookies, so...IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!!! Actually, I'll probably bring you one. Cause I'm a great blogmate like that. (See what I did there. Blogmate. I'm so smart)

How mind one lost her soul.

Mind one here!!!

So for those of you who have never met us, or seen pictures. We are red heads. Both of us. Yes. We are gingers.... There is a difference though. We aren't those super pasty, scary vampire, psychotic killer gingers. We are normal looking, pretty freakin attractive, intelligent, sexy, gingers.

Mind two is a natural ginger. She was born with light auburn hair.

Mind one. Was born brilliantly blond. Like the color of melted pee-snow (Pale white with a yellow tint. That's descriptive writing for you). As time went on I became a brunette. But as middle school struck, so did an extreme need to create my own identity. These two years consisted of so many hair color changes, honestly, I don't remember 80% of them. There was purple streaks, all over Burgundy color, blond streaks, fire engine red streaks. Seriously, it was like that horse in the wizard of oz. Each week would be a new color. Secretly I had always wanted to be a red head though, it took three years (middle school then freshman year) to work up the 'nads to actually dye my hair red.

Many people are familiar with the whole joke "Gingers don't have souls" well, I used to have a soul....
USED TO.

I sold my soul for flaming locks. And its great. Everyone. Sell your souls. You feel so much more free.

Mind Two:

Mind One is completely right. I having been a redhead all my life, know this. It is completely amazing. Seriously, people are scared of you. They never want to fight you because they know: GINGERS KICK ASS. It is common knowledge. People without a soul are the best. They win every fight, by default. As soon as someone sees your hair color, they're all like "Oh hell no. I ain't gonna mess with that chick. Even if I am black and probably bigger than her. Ginger's are just too mean." See, even black people are scared of us. So you might as well just sell your soul now, before everyone reads this and realizes just how amazing us redheads are.

Mind one's luck sucks

Mind one here.

Okay, so by now you've read my heart-rending tale of the plug adventures, if not, click the blue underlined words. (I'm getting this blog thing dowwwn) Today, while hobbling around the track meet, I managed to not only shove a goat-head through my flip-flop directly into my foot, I also got the worst sunburn of my life. My shoulders are so red, cars pulled over to let me pass as I walked down the street. The burning feeling from this burn, is so intense, and so agonizing, I feel like Satan is literally pissing on my shoulders. WHY DOES MY LUCK SUCK SO MUCH??????????(Yes in fact if you were wondering today was a mind caps lock day) I've got a few theories as to why my luck has sucked so epically.

Theory #1:
In a previous life, I was a Nazi. I'm seriously considering this one, and not just because I got burned today.  Sorry. That was racist.

Theory #2:
I'm about to become insanely rich off of this blog. And the universe is just trying to shove a lifetimes worth of bad luck into the few remaining days before this blog takes off and I become a ceptionillionare. I'm onto your evil plot universe. Knock it off and make me rich already.

Theory #3:
I've said a great many racist (see theory #1), or rude things (see all other posts). Though a great many of these things were funny, maybe this is a sign that I should be kinder. Well, whatever Deity above, screw that. You've just made it worse by injuring my foot, knocking me out of a track meet, and giving me the burn of Satan. Now I'm super grump!!

Theory #4:
Life just isn't fair. Talented, funny, smart, and down-right stunning people like me get bad luck, its the way of balancing out my many gifts. (Totally kidding here, I'm not that self centered or cocky.)

Mind Two:

All of these theories are great. It could be any of these, or a combination of all of them. I have one of my own.

Theory #5:
This blog is killing us. Seriously, we have become so addicted to blogging and reading other blogs that the universe is trying to tell us something. The sunburn thing is because you haven't seen the light of day in about 12 days. Your skin was not used to the sun and then the universe said "Let's punish her for not coming outside for 12 days because all she wants to do is blog." Conclusion: The world sucks.

A Blog and a Half

 Mind Two

Ok so I think it's fess up time. While everything Billie and I have said on here is true (or at least as true as it needs to be), we probably never would have thought of this blog if it hadn't been for Allie Brosh's blog-Hyperbole and a Half. She is actually the person who inspired it. See, Billie and I are a little, tiny, bit obsessed with this blog. She is honestly one of the funniest people I know. You should see her Facebook photo. (No, of course I haven't been stalking her Facebook page.) With this blog, Billie and I figured if there were two of us, we could at least be half as funny as she is.

When I first started reading her blog, I was so happy. I would sit in library aide and laugh till it hurt instead of doing my homework. When I found her email address, I was ecstatic. (Let me show you a picture.   :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D) I immediately emailed her and waited patiently like a little kid waiting for ice cream. It didn't come that day, so I waited a week. Still no reply. I was so sad. My heart was slowly breaking. I still have not received any form of reply, whatsoever.

So now I have a dilemma. Part of me wants to send her so many emails that her inbox will be full of my name and nothing else. This way, she will be forced to respond, not seeing any other messages. Another part of me is just all like "Dude, chill. Seriously." This part is the more sensible side. Maybe I will listen to it. Or not. The email thing sounds pretty great. Maybe I should just post this post on her Facebook wall. Then she will most likely read it and find out about how she broke the heart of a very young, extremely pretty, and incredibly awesome, girl. (That's me, case you didn't get it).

Mind one.

Mucho kudos to Ms. Allie indeed. I love her blog, it's the best thing since white bread. And I seriously love white bread. I just tweeted her. Yes, I created a twitter for the blog. I'll include the thingy for the thing later once I figure out what in the name of Zeus twitter is even about. Mind two is completely right. We are obsessed. I've checked the tweet like seven times in the last ten minutes. I feel like a meth addict, watching my dealer hide just around the corner. (Drug reference. Sorry) Hyperbole and a Half is amazing. It made me laugh until I cried. Then it would sneak attack me in the middle of a test. I'd be sitting there trying to factor a quadratic equation. And all my brain would come up with was a defeated sounding voice "Whaht ith thish shaht?" (Spahgetti Nadle reference). I lost what was left of my mind trying to contain the giggles. Im sure I sounded like a drowning hippo trying to learn conversational french. (Pure poetry right there)

CAPSLOCK FOR THE BRAIN!!

Mind one. (Billie)
Have you ever had a day where your mind seems to be stuck on capslock? I do, like three times a week. Which is three fourths of my school week for you math wizards, that do not cheat on anything...*cough cough* Mind one. (Brain? Why do you keep trying to spell cough like couch?)
Anyways. It seems that a regretful amount of my internal thinking throughout the week seems to be done in all capital letters. This sort of thinking is usually reserved for moments of extreme stress, or irratation. At least for most people. For me, almost anything is mental capslock worthy.

"I DO NOT WANT ANY MUSTARD ON MY SANDWHICH!!!!"

"I CAN SEE YOUR PANTY LINE THROUGH YOUR SUPER TIGHT DRESS!!! WEAR A THONG!!!"

"SHUT UP! NO ONE LIKES YOU!!!"

"OH MY GOD. A MOTORCYCLE JUST DROVE BY!!"

"THE ANSWER IS 4!!!! FOUR!!!"

"DO NOT LOOK AT ME TEACHER. I KNOW NOT THE ANSWER!!!"

"I SAID NO MUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRDDDDDDD!!!!" *wild dinosaur snarling noises*

Honestly, I dont know why my brain does this. It will keep this up all day long. I'm mentally screaming at my self over nothing. It seems like I feel like I need to be screamed at to accomplish anything.

"DON'T SAY THAT!!! YOU'LL NEVER HEAR THE END OF THE DRAMA!!!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT! ARE YOU STUPID? HAVE YOU NOT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION TO CLASS???"  No I haven't. Jerkface. Cause you keep screaming at me!!!!!

I need therapy. I get into shouting matches in my head. With myself....wow....

Mind Two

Mind One you are a complete genius. This explains so many things. Like the fact that I used about a bazillion all-caps words in my last few posts. And the fact that I had to retype like so many times just now that my fingers hurt. And I never actually cheated so much as didn't finish the assignment and then read off a completely different score. Doesn't matter though. Math still sucks, no matter how you look at it. 

UPDATED: Math...You Really Don't Use It In Real Life

Mind Two.

My math teacher just recently caught us all cheating. Only on assignments, though. So we are not really hardened criminals or anything bad like that. But, as punishment, he made us write a paper on how trig is used in real life. So, instead of doing it and winning back his trust, a few of my brilliant classmates and I came up with a list. We called it "Things more fun than writing a trig paper." It was genius. I will post the list soon.

I have a feeling, come Monday, he is not going to like us so much. He smiled when we handed him the paper and he read the title. I couldn't tell if it was a "haha" smile or a "you guys are so screwed on Monday smile" Update to follow.

Mind one.
Thanks to Mind two's shennaigans my math class is now living under the threat of having our assingments turned in. Which would in fact effectively rape half of the classes grades. Not mine of course. I'm a moral, responsible, upstanding young lady....*snicker* right. Lie alert. But still. Mind two, do you think you could manage to not cheat anymore, its making class difficult for everyone else!!! Thanks<3

Mind Two Update:

Yep, it's confirmed. He really didn't appreciate the math paper. It really was a "you guys are screwed" smile.

Before we handed him the paper, we all signed it. The entire class. When we walked in on Monday, he said "Anyone who signed this paper is getting 10% knocked off their grade". He said it with a smile, so we knew he was kidding. The best part was when one of the boys said "Well that's great for me because I signed 'Jack Nicholson' and not my real name!"

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Mind Two (Shania).

Today, I was reading the things that Mind One said about TRAGIED (stands for "that really annoying girl in drivers ed" and that is what I will calling here because it is a heck of a lot easier than writing out "that really annoying girl in drivers ed". Also, I tried to come up with a cool acronym that stood for something and made a word but I couldn't.) First, I laughed so hard I fell off my chair and my fellow classmate just stared at me like I was really freaking crazy and should probably be put in a mental hospital. (Yes, I am typing this during school. But let me make something clear. School is important. Stay in it. Don't drop out or do drugs or alcohol. There. Now I feel like I am a good person.) Then, I managed to regain my composure. Then, the stupid things TRAGIED said made me think of some things that people have said on Facebook. While I am not the most qualified to tell about these since Mind One and I are getting kicked off Facebook someday, I am going to anyway.

"Eating a sandwich"
Seriously?! Are you freaking kidding me? Did you not have anything better to say? And what did you do before Facebook? Call up your BFF and be like "Hey guess what? I am eating a sandwich!" Because if my best friend did that to me, I would break up with them and then they would be all sad and lonely.

"____________ changed their relationship status from 'in a relationship' to 'single'."
NOBODY CARES! If you really broke up with them, fine. Post it. I don't care. But if you are just fighting, DON'T even think about it. When you get in a fight with your parents, you don't just change your status to "orphan", so don't do it with your relationships!

"Why does Facebook even offer the "like" button on my own status. Of course I like my own status! I'm freaking hilarious. And sexy."
Bahahahaha. Ok, you got me. Nobody actually posted this one. I just thought it was really funny and it reminded me of myself. Because this is totally me, guys!

Mind one (Billie)
Mind two has made some excellent points! Although everytime I see the word Orphan above my mind automatically sees Oprah. (Kinda like how my brain thought I should spell "Fly" like "Fligh") I made myself laugh out loud through the tears today while typing about my foot misfortunes. So here are some more things that I have seen on facebook, and seriously questioned....

"I have to pee."
Alright sir, thanks for that. Please be sure not to piss on the wall while your at it. You foul, disgusting, crude, loathesome, creepy, needy, childish freak. You are the kind of person that should be kicked off facebook. Not us!!! Just cause we made fun of Mr. Facebooks probable speech imediment....

"I love the way I hate you."
Excuse me, did you fail first grade? You basically just called your self a bipolar idiot. What obscure corner of the world did you learn to put sentances together in? You enjoy the way you dislike someone else? Self centered much? Honestly, Facebook needs a "You are a freakin moron" auto-comment for every status like this.

"It's Facebook official!!"
I'm sure your girlfriend/boyfriend feels great that your relationship wasn't meaningful to you until you changed your freakin Facebook status. That would make me want to rip your ears off and staple them to your chin. You are the epitome of immature. Go stand on your corner, you don't deserve a real relationship.

"I've got a boner."
Alright, I admit, I've never actually seen this status. But I believe it will arrive soon. It's like a rare pokemon. A rare and deeply disturbing status. I know my guy friends, I have faith one of them will post it.

Mornings....SUCK!!!

Mind one here.

My dad has this saying. "Nothing good ever happens after ten o'clock at night." Well. I'm changing this saying to "Nothing good ever happens before ten o'clock in the morning." I hate mornings, with a dirty burning passion. It's seven fifteen right now, and I'm sitting here, struck by a sudden urge to blog, but my mind is screaming at me. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? GO BACK TO SLEEP. RIGHT. NOW. WHO CARES IF YOU MISS CHEMISTRY!!! NO ONE!!!" Shut up mind. Stop whining, neither of us want to be awake right now, but I'm not throwing a temper tantrum.
Update:
Mother of god. My foot hurts!!!!! It is now 9:33 a.m. So in my world everything should get better in about half an hour. Let me run through the events of this morning.
7:00 Wake up, roll pathetically out of bed and stumble to the kitchen to make coffee and check on my babies (blog and facebook).
7:10 Do a happy dance about over sixty views on the blog. Yes, I'm easily excited. Go to bathroom and turn straightener on so it'll warm up.
7:15 Start new blog post about how much mornings suck (In a way I jinxed myself right here.) Then log out of everything and head back to my bedroom to find clothes.
7:25 Holy hell. Right about here is when I stepped, directly onto the prongs of an electric plug laying on my bedroom floor. And when I say stepped on, I don't mean "Oh ow, that rather hurt, didn't break the skin though, carry on!" I mean "@#%#%@#$%#$!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!! I JUST DROVE A HALF AN INCH OF METAL INTO THE BALL OF MY FOOT!!!!" I had to sit on my bed and pull this stupid plug out of my foot. I'm so proud of myself, I didn't cry, but I did shake like a leaf. And I managed to only get two drops of blood on the shag carpet so. Yay me!!
7:27 Made it to the bathroom and by now my foot has realized it has been stabbed. It's gushing blood all over the place, with every beat of my heart, blood spurts out of the bottom of my foot. I grab a box of band-aids and sit on the counter.
7:30 I lost three minutes here somewhere, maybe I blacked out, I don't know but I felt like my life was in danger...At this moment I've only left a little trail of blood drops around the bathroom floor, now that I'm sitting still, the blood flood hits overdrive. In the time it takes me to pick up my phone and call Step-Boyfriend for help, a pool of blood roughly the size of an orange has dripped to the floor.
Conversation with Step-Boyfriend:
S.B:"hahh whah? yhollo?" (He doesn't speak fluent English in the mornings)
Me:"Uhh...I need help."
S.B.: "Wait, what? Why do you need help?" (I think my urgent tone reached him here, he started to put his words together quite well)
Me:"I'm bleeding profusely from the foot. I need a band-aid. A big one." (I'm staying remarkably calm right now, as I watch my life's blood drip to the floor, by now a puddle has formed that vaguely resembles Lake Erie.)
S.B:"Your....What? Hang on, where are you?" (It's not that complicated Step-Boyfriend, just come into the bathroom and get me a band-aid. The bottom of the foot is an awkward angle to try and preform medical miracles on oneself.)
Me:"Bathroom, don't slip on the blood"

That phrase right there "Don't slip on the blood" seemed to finally reach him, he came barrelling out of his room like someone had lite his boxers on fire. Which wasn't very fast at all, seeings how his crippled knee's wont let him sprint, but I appreciated the hustle. I was staring morosely at the blood puddle when he found me. (To my traumatized eyes it was starting to look like scooby-doo. I'm a talented bleeder.) From this point on there was a quick succession of band-aid., clean up the blood, wait for mom to get home, band-aid ripped brutally off. My mom decides to pour hydrogen peroxide on my gaping wound. Step-Boyfriend even said it looked like a bullet wound instead of an innocent plug stab...riiight. I felt like she had stabbed my poor bleeding foot with a red hot fire poker dipped in hydrochloric acid for shits and giggles. I writhed in agony on the floor while she and Step-Boyfriend made some very un-necessary weenie jokes.
Me: *writhes in agony*
S.B:"Don't be such a pussy!!"
Mom:*Sadistic giggling*
Needless to say, my morning started off, wonderfully. Also needless to say the foot I got stabbed in? My left foot, which is also the foot that has a huuuugggeeee blister on the heel, and a slightly smaller blister on the bottom of my foot (How did that even get there??) Also this is the knee I've spent over three weeks in physical therapy for. I've got a track meet tomorrow, and my left leg feels like its been through a war.

Mind one out. (I also just got shanked. Thanks Johnny)

Mind Two here.

I am actually a morning person. Most mornings are great. I am like one of those people who feels like they could run a marathon and then swim the English Channel. (There is one problem with this. I hate running. Like passionately. Like if I had a time machine I would go back and kill the person who invented running for fun and kill anyone else who had the idea.) Only one thing. I hate school mornings. Almost more than I hate running. THEY SUCK! Usually the only way I can get through them is by consuming large amounts of coffee. Highly caffeinated coffee. For example, this morning I had 2 cups of regular coffee and 3 shots of espresso. (Ok fine. This is actually semi-normal for me. Maybe not the three espresso shots. But I do drink an insane amount of coffee. Usually like 5 cups of regular coffee. I am like 90% water, 10% caffeine, all the time. It's great. If you haven't tried coffee, DO IT NOW. Seriously, it's better than alcohol. Alcohol makes you feel all tired and sad and coffee makes you feel like the freaking Energizer bunny.) It is now 5th period and all I feel like doing is going home and going to bed. Stupid school. I have sold my soul to getting grades and now it is biting me in the butt. Sure, it will pay off someday, like when I am a billionare and have my dream job and a beautiful house with a huge spiral staircase in the middle of it. But as for now, it sucks. Knowing that I have to keep doing it for at least 6 more years is killing me you guys. Every year, I have to up my caffeine content by just a little bit to make up for the lack of sleep that seems to be growing. Seriously, someday I am going to just go freaking nuts from all this energy.

This post was supposed to be about morning and now it is all about the wonderful, incredible, drink that is like drinking a concentrated rainbow that we call coffee. See what it does to me?

On a serious note. No, really.

Mind one here!

Alright, after some editing from the Step-Boyfriend (which was in fact needed). I'd just like to apologize to any one's feelings who may have been hurt by the last two posts. Please, do not be offended. We are not trying to offend you. We are just two people, who like to rant and rave about something that bugs us. Then it's dropped, and we move on. If your offended. I very very very sincerely apologize. Its not supposed to hurt any ones feelings. If it did. Come up to either Mind one or Mind two, and talk to us about it. Don't go all postal. It wont solve anything.

Alright. First ever, and probably last ever serious post from Mind one. Read on young blogger, read on.

Mind Two.

I agree completely with what she said.

UPDATE: Ok so originally I just posted the above comment but then I was reading it and my heart was all like you need to be a nicer person and start caring about other people more because right now the world thinks your a jerk. So I will write my own apology.

Apology: I too am sorry for all the turmoil we have caused some people. If I have ever offended you, I am truly and deeply sorry. That only goes for this blog though. If I said something that offended you in real life, I probably meant it. So get over yourself and move on.

p.s. Sorry. I also suck at apologies.

How Drivers Ed Changed Our Life (and Ruined It)

Post number two. Mind two. (Shania)
ONCE AGAIN. WARNING. DONT TAKE US LITERAL. THIS IS A WAY TO VENT. WE ARE NOT KILLERS. Also, we are not trying to be downright mean to anyone. It's just meant to make you laugh. And if your offended. Please stay tuned. Because, there will be more coming that is less offensive. (Actually, it probably won't be any less offensive. Because we are offensive people. But we will try.) Sorry again! (:
As many of you may know, drivers ed is THE single most boring class on the ENTIRE planet. Even things like home ec. would be better (well probably as I don't actually know because our school is so small we don't have a home ec. class). At least in home ec. you get to make things, like food, and then eat them (again, still guessing). In drivers ed, all you do is sit there and listen to the teacher talk for THREE hours! You would think that you would be able to actually go out and drive a car, which wouldn't be so bad. But no, all you do is sit there and listen to the teacher talk about how to drive a car. It's like Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter except he never wears pink (although he does wear an exceptional amount of blue and gray). On top of all the listening and concentrating you are supposed to do, you have to sign up to drive OTHER times. We have to have a total of five hours driving with the instructor. Or six. I really need to start paying attention in class. Ok I promise I am done ranting now.

In our really suckish drivers ed class, there is a girl. She is the girl who flirts with all the guys and all the girls hate her. She isn't even that pretty, but the guys in our class aren't exactly Ryan Reynolds. Billie (Mind number one) and I usually spend most of the class making fun of her.  Oh, she also says really annoying things all the time too. Usually really dumb annoying things.

Mind one taking over here (Billie!!!)

Mind two made excellent points. This teacher has the ability to stare directly at a student (me) who is in the process of verbally tearing another student into small bite sized pieces, observe as said student pegs other student in the face with a cheez-it. He doesn't say a word, he just watches. He rambles on for three hours, and really I don't think anyone other than our fantasmic government could make three hours worth of slide shows about "The importance of Transition Pegs" or "Why you should always drive with your lights on" or my personal favorite "How to fantasize about killing a person in over fifteen different ways instead of learning how to parallel park" (I made the last one up, the government isn't as cool as me, they would never have a slide that realistic.) (Mind one adding something here. The last one, while made up, is completely true. That is what Billie and I do during drivers ed. Sorry to interrupt.) While he drones on, and on, and on, and on for freakin eternity, there is a higher pitched, more girly, and more, dare i say?, annoying, that competes with his. As it is in all such cases, annoying wins. Let me rock your world with a brief history of moronic things that this said person has said.

"Eating six pieces of blueberry pie wont make me fat!! It'll give me energy for the meet tomorrow!!"
Alright, anyone in their right mind, that has ever run farther than the ten steps from the couch to the microwave to stop the beeping, would realize that SIX PIECES OF PIE ISN'T REALLY HEALTHY. EVER. I don't care if your going to be killed in a holocaust the next day, you don't eat six pieces of pie, much less blueberry pie. Maybe if this was homemade pie it would be understandable. But no. It's pie from our local Cough and Vomit Cafe, (Sadly, also a lie, our cafe isn't that aptly named, but I wouldn't want to hurt feelings), which is over 3000% sugar, and like .0000001% frozen blueberry chunks. I almost puked on her shoes when I watched her eat those six pieces of pie, in under five minutes. (Mind two. I think she wears like spanx or something so she doesn't look fat. Also, Mind One and I were sincerely looking forward to her puking all over her own shoes and turning them blue. Sadly, this never happened. Which is why I think she is secretly fat and wears spanx.)

"I really want to bring a futon to this room with me every Monday, it'd be so great!!"
My response to this was "Yeah, cause that's what makes the school staff happy, students bringing in random pieces of furniture." Seriously, shut your mouth. I'm trying to pretend to learn here.

These are two very small, very brief snapshots into the hell that is Drivers ed. I'm sure more will follow. I'm getting pissed off all over again just thinking about it.

There is only a few things that make this class bearable. As Mind two mentioned, there are no Calvin Kline models in our class, yet there are a set of twins. Now these twins, that I shall call Smart twin and Dumb twin, are fairly attractive. Dumb twin has been sucked into the black hole that is hoe-bags life. Smart twin, pegged her in the face with a pen the first night. Hence, Dumb twin and Smart twin. Smart twin is definitely more attractive, and Mind one may just pounce on that.

The second bearable thing is the presence of Mind one's best frined. I'll post later explaining the whole frined thing, yes it is an intentional typo, and there is a decent story behind it.
Also, the occasional videos shown by Mr. Blue and Grey have 80's rock music as the background, and Mind one rocks out as people are smeared across the pavement. Mind one is a twisted person....

Look forward to more posts!!! Two minds, one blog. ;)

P.S. If you recognized the reference above, ten points!!! Also, go wash your mind out. Sicko.

Legal? We kinda doubt it...

WARNING!!! DO NOT TAKE ANY VIOLENT REFERENCES LITERAL!!! WE'RE NOT ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL ANYONE. So calm down (: Also, apologies to any hurt feelings. Not our intention here, we just want to be amusing!(:
Mind one (Billie)
Is it even legal to have a blog with two people writing it? Maybe, but probably not. Is this possibility of law-breaking going to stop us? Oh most definitely not. Why would two people want to share a blog, and why not just create our own? It's called a support system. When one mind goes blank, the other steps up with a epic back up plan. I think its a great idea. And so did mind number two.
Mind one is determined to succeed at this for once! So even if Mind two leaves her all alone, she will struggle along helplessly....but she doesn't think Mind two could be so cruel...she hopes. (why am I talking in third person?)

So the two Minds agreed. Our first post would contain a picture. This picture would show the drawings done by Mind one and narrated by Mind two. Expect this somewhere at the bottom of the post. Mind two, care to take over? Give our READERS....actually, probably more like reader...a short introduction to the events leading up to this picture of extreme greatness!!!


Second half of post number one. Mind Two. (Shania)

So i don't really care if it is legal or not because this blog is going to blow your mind.  Mind number one and I have come up with this elaborate scheme where we get kicked off Facebook and somehow end up becoming trillionaires.  Actually, ceptionillionares.  It's like a trillionaire, but a thousand times richer. And we receive all these awards that we will humbly accept, even though we don't deserve them.

Oh, who am I kidding? We are freaking hilarious and totally deserve all these awards.  In fact, I am sure we deserve way more awards. What genius thought of ceptionillionares? Oh wait, that was us too! So now that I have just proved how exceptionally awesome we are, I think it is time for our incredibly fantastic drawing.

Mind one agrees. See image below!!! We made our own version of jeopardy where we depict the death of a classmate in drivers ed, many, many times over. (actually three images...the scanner and i disagree...) Also, if you think this is you, we don't mean you, unless of course, we do mean you, but then you'll know...

Image unavailable. Needs massive editing.

First image. Those drawings that are oozing epicness all over your screen. Yeah, Mind one's brilliance. You should first direct your attention to the topmost picture. Then to the second one.

Image unavailable. Needs Editing!!!

Second image, apologies for the crappy image, I cant really explain why this happened.... Once again top image first, then the bottom one. In the top one if you cant see whats going on, Mind one is pouring gorilla glue down K.C.'s throat... and in the second one. Mind one stabber her, with a sword. Cause Mind one carries swords around, like a boss.

Image unavailable. needs to be edited!!

Sweet Zeus computer!! What did I do to merit such wonderfully crappy images?? You jerk... Anyways, Mind two clearly wins this round of jeopardy, this is what we do, when we really should be learning.