Snake!!!!

Mind one.

Alright, one of my biggest pet peeve's in the world is repeating shirts. Wear the same jacket every day! Cool bro, I'm digging your hoodie. Wear the same jeans twice in one week!! I love your jeans giiiiirl. Wear the same shirt four days out of seven. Kill yourself.

I understand having a favorite shirt, I happen to have one myself, I'll probably even post of picture of me wearing it down here somewhere in this general area right hurr. (Alright, the only picture I could fnd of this shirt has three other people in it, ignore them and focus on the redhead in the black shirt!!! And for those of you who can't read, it says "Cool story bro, tell it again")

I even understand having a limited budget, creating a limited wardrobe. I also happen to have this myself, so I get it. You my dear lady, (I will not name you here, but you know who you are, and anyone from my school reading this, you know too.), don't have a problem with the second issue, you've made that pretty clear. So all I can assume is that you just really enjoy pissing me off. I'll list some other reasons for my belief that you're trying to drive me round the bend.

1. You go out of your way to stand right in front of me, when I'm trying to talk to a teacher. I can have a conversation with the teacher, I promise you, the school allows that. You do not have to put your self directly in front of my face and distract the teacher. Attention whores are not attractive.

2. Two words about your make up. Rose Art. You must go at your face with crayons, and not the expensive, cool Crayola's with the built in sharpener, but the cheapy, Rose Art crayons that are all seriously offensive colors. It's called a make up brush, not a paint roller. I hope you never break a sweat in class, because if it did you would have darker stripes down you face, than a tiger does on his ass.

3. You talk funny.

4. No really, you have a speech pattern never before seen on the face of the earth.

5. I'm serious, if one of the munchkins off The Wizard of Oz, had a baby with an Oompa Loompa off Willy Wonka, your voice would annoy the hell out of the baby.

6. You have this really annoying way of flirting. It's all cool if you like a guy, but thrusting your crotch in his face, is a little desperate. Calm down.

 

I could keep going, but that would just be mean. Oh wait, I feel like that line may of already been crossed. OH WELL!!! Basically, I can't even stand to look at this girl, and I have three, count them, three classes with her. Someone's gonna die.

Ends of limbs

Mind one.

Alright I know I know. You're practically screaming at me. "YOU ALREADY DID THIS POST!!! GET SOME NEW IDEA'S YOU WASTE OF BLOGGER!!!" Calm down, my sociopath friend, this is simply a continuation of that post. Because, simply, unless you are dead, you have awkward moments every day. This post shall be a little different. I'll actually tell you some of my awkward moments in more detail. (This shows we're desperate for idea's, we're talking about feelings.)
Awkward moment numero uno!!

Middle school. That's just an awkward pair of words, describing an awkward time of life, in an awkward environment, that promotes awkwardness among awkward interactions between awkward students. In case that was too subtle, IT'S AWKWARD AS ALL SHIT!!!! Then they inflict p.e. on us. Why do it? We're awkward (there's that word again) and gangly, and overall we don't know where the ends of our limbs are. (That sounds cool, ends of limbs. At this point I did have this post titled as That awkward moment where you have to make a second post about more awkward moments. But that's long and well...awkward, so now it is ends of limbs.) Causing us to go through p.e. at this stage in life, is like sending a kindergartner to Harvard, or a man with no hands to a typing contest. It's cruel, unusual punishment, and you will never get the results you are hoping for. "Run laps around the gym!!" P.e. teachers favorite phrase. Why? Because it's an activity that doesn't need excessive supervision, and its pretty damn hard to screw up. It's the equivalent of handing out a pop quiz in math. The students sweat and the teacher gets the day off. Now on this day, I don't remember the exact date, sue me. It was during basketball season though, so the over enthusiastic boys in my p.e. class were being, overenthusiastic and everytime they passed under a basketball hoop they would take turns leaping up and grabbing the net as high as they could. I wasn't paying attention to this. I don't know why, likely I was suffering from a serious case of "I-do-not-give-a-shit-itis" its common among middle schoolers. So while I was doing some deep thinking and staring off into space, I managed to not notice their tomfoolery. I was right behind a group of these enthusiastic spaz's, when one decided he would go for gold and do some sort of running spinning leap through the air and grab the net hang there for a second a drop. This would of been fine, even a fairly cool move, if I hadn't been approximately one second behind him. Ensuring that after his attempts at Air Jordan he would land directly on me. More specifically on my face. Even more specifically an unfortunate landing on my face. And by unfortunate I mean down right embarassing. If you haven't got the image by now, and you're still scratching your head trying to figure what part of who hit whom in the face, let me clarify. Actually, no. That would take this blog post straight out of PG land. And I can't have that. Said basketball player and I both stuttered apologies then took off in dead sprints around the gym. In the same direction, cause we got yelled at for "Disrupting the flow!!". Eventually I stopped, let him gain half the gym on me then resumed my jogging. It was embarassing in those days, but now the story makes me laugh. I don't even know if he remembers, but he shall still remain unnamed. (and no, it wasn't voldemort.)

Mind Two:

Well this is awkward, but I have chosen to forget most of my awkward moments so I will tell you a funny story instead.

Mind Two likes to bake. Like really. And I'm good at it. And no, I am not fat.

I have this, uhh, frenemy. We get along alright, but most of the time we just make fun of each other. Well, I went with my mom and her friend for sushi and tried WASABI!! It is basically really spicy horse radish sauce for those of you that don't know. And it's green. ("I know it's green, but what else is about it?" 5 points for Gryffindor if you can name that quote.)
Well, our branding was coming up and I decided on cupcakes because they are easy and super delicious. Then I thought, I really need a good way to get back at frenemy for...everything. Then I thought wasabi cupcakes would be a fantastic way to do it. So I then made a special cupcake, with a layer of wasabi and a layer of chocolate frosting over it. And at dessert time, I took it out as a peace offering. I said I felt bad for all the mean things I had said so I made this cupcake for you. And he took a bite.
And the look on his face as soon as he got down to the wasabi was PRICELESS. I will never forget that face. And to this day he will not eat any cupcakes I have made. I made SourPatch kids cupcakes and he wouldn't touch them. But it was totally worth it.

Driving Is Dangerous...Especially in Lakes

Mind Two:

As you know, my childhood was not nearly as wild as it should have been. To make up for it, I would like to tell you a few stories about my dad's childhood. (He doesn't know about this and if he finds out will probably hate me forever.)

When my dad was little, he had a best friend, which I will be calling Bob (I know, your amazed at my creative naming skills). Bob and my dad have been best friends since grade school and will probably be the old guys in the nursing home racing wheelchairs and trying to escape and having many other old people shenanigans.  My dad and Bob were, at one point, teenage boys. And teenage boys tend to get in trouble and do stupid things that turn their parent's hair gray. Bob and my dad were no different.  They are now banned from being near each other and a boat at the same time for a couple different reasons.

Reason # 1
Bob and my dad liked to fish. Loved to fish. On a nice, stormy day, they decided to go fishing. I know, brilliant they were. Well, long story short, the waves got so big it sunk the boat. Also, they only had one life jacket with them. And then, they had to walk the God-knows-how-many miles back to camp. 

Reason # 2
Bob had just recently gotten married. My dad was either unmarried or married to his first wife at the time. Either way, he was never home much. Bob's wife, let's call her Amy, had just gotten a new car. It was an actual new car, not a new-to-you one. My dad came over one day and Bob was all excited about a fore-mentioned car. My dad wanted to go fishing. Bob then suggested instead of taking the old pick-up, let's take the new, shiny car! (Now at this point in the story my dad says he tried to talk him out of it, but there is no stopping guys with a new car). They decided to drive to the nearest lake, and fish for the day. Well, since it was early spring, there was a lot of mud left. A. Lot. Bob and dad tried to drive all the way into the lake, but got the car stuck. My dad decided to get out and push, while Bob sat there and put his foot on the gas. After about 5 minutes of unsuccessful trying, my dad turned his head to yell for more acceleration. And there was Bob. Right beside my dad. Pushing on the car. And no one was steering. My dad calmly looks at Bob and screams "Who the hell is driving?!?!" Bob then says "Don't worry, I put a sho-" and then the car takes off. What Bob had been trying to say was "I put a shotgun on the gas pedal". Bob, not wanting to lose his wife's brand new car, took off after it and promptly face-planted into the mud. He jumped up, started running, and face-planted again. The next time, he made it up and continued running. The amazing part of this story is that he actually caught the car. When they got the car back into town, they spent about $20 at the car wash trying to get all the mud off. When they got home, Amy immediately walked in the house screamed "What did you do to my car?!?!" That is where my dad exited and let Bob take all the blame. (Apparently they had left a piece of sagebrush under the fender)

Reason # 3
Amy's parents anniversary was coming up. It was a big one, like their 25th or 50th. Amy agreed to help out with the planning of the party. During this period of time, Bob worked nights at some big corporation and never made it home till morning, when he went to bed. Amy left really early to go help with the party every morning. One morning, as Bob was coming in and Amy was leaving, my dad showed up. He asked Bob if he wanted to go fishing. Bob, of course, agreed. The catch was Bob had to be back by 5 for the anniversary party. They figured they had plenty of time. They put on waders and grabbed fishing gear and headed out. They lost track of time, as usual, and my dad kicked Bob out of the vehicle as he drove past the party. Bob was still wearing his waders, which happened to be about 20 sizes too big. So he ended up meeting most of Amy's family for the first time wearing too-big waders and smelling like fish.

This is why they got banned from boating together ever again.

Mind one:

I'm not allowed to do anything fun. Supposedly I'm "accident prone", whatever, I've never done anything that required stitches, and I've only fractured one bone. Thats not bad.

This isn't a fairy tail...its a horror story and a half

Mind Two:

Remember how in the last post that made no sense ("the devil dives in dark dim doorways") there was a lot of really obvious statements. Like how Mind Two is almost always getting abused by something? I shall now prove that point if you didn't already believe it.

Soooo, I was home alone (beginning of a horror movie and yes, this post is horror movie quality) because the rest of my family went up to help my grandma out. And guess what was on TV???  JAWS!!!! Which is a GREAT movie. Watch it as soon as you get done reading this post. Seriously. Unlessss you happen to live by the ocean. Then stay very far away from it. (Mind one. Or just don't make the giant sharks angry.)

Anyway, after jaws was over, guess what else was playing on cable??? WRONG TURN 2!!!! Which is a VERY scary movie. Very. And I was home alone. And as I was watching How I Met Your Mother to try and recover from the scaryness, someone pulls in the driveway. And stupid me thinks it's just my parents.

Well it wasn't. When I went to look out the front window, all I saw was a dust rolling across the driveway. No sweat, I thought, they had the horse trailer on and already parked so I all I saw was the dust. And I went back to watching How I Met Your Mother.

About half an hour later, after my show was over, I think to myself, "Where are my parents?"

I go outside to look around and I don't see them anywhere. And then it occurs to me that the pickup isn't here. And neither is the horse trailer. And also there is a strange red pickup parked behind one of our other vehicles. And then I start thinking "I know this pickup. It belongs to my dad's friend. But why is he here when my dad isn't?" (Mind one again. This is where he swings the chainsaw at your face and/or pops out saying "Hello little girl, are you lost?". When obviously you are NOT lost, seeings how thats where you live and all. The appropriate response here would be to shoot him, just like the skunk we talked about earlier, and say something snappy like "Hello creepy old man, are you a rapist?")

But, much to Mind One's disappointment, no one came out. And, no one was actually at my house. I live on 72 acres of land and I searched every single inch of my property and THERE. WAS. NO. ONE. Anywhere. So now, I was really creeped out. This was my thought process:

Ohmigod someone is stalking me and following me around.
Ohmigod there is a creepy clown somewhere who wants to kill me. (The creepiest thing about clowns? Their smile. It's that "this should look nice but it actually means I'm going to kill you" smile.)
Ohmigod there is a murderer somewhere who wants to kill me.
Why are all these fantasies involving someone killing me? Maybe my dad's friend really did just want to come visit.
Screw that. I am going to get murdered with a shovel (after finding a shovel in the back of the creepy truck that no one was in) by an evil clown.
I should probably call my parents and tell them I love them before I get murdered.
Are you supposed to shave your legs before your funeral if you die young? Cause old people don't worry about that but what about young girls? My legs are really hairy, I should go shave just in case.
Screw that too. I am not shaving my legs. If the murderer has a problem with them, then he can do it.

And then the phone rang. And scared me half to death because it was in the kitchen and I couldn't figure out what that noise was. But it was just my brother calling to see if I would do the chores.

Brother: Dad wants to do the chores.
Me: Ok. Was dad's friend supposed to come by?
Brother: No.
Me: Well his truck is here.
Brother: Which one?
Me: The red one. The one his hired hand drives around.
Brother: Oh. Well maybe his hired hand is there doing something.

And this is when the thought occurred to me that I had been looking for the WRONG PERSON. Duh. And then I realized that was ridiculous I was in the middle of nowhere, not a shopping mall. And then I started panicking again.

So I took the shotgun off the wall and fired two warning shots. Into his head. Just kidding. That's a quote from a movie (Chicago). (Mind one approves of this movie quote.)

What I did do was grab the big, heavy, wood bat from my brothers room and lay down on the with it next to me, praying that I would live another day and no one was going to jump out of the closet.

After awhile, I got an idea. Text the owner of the mysterious pickup and ask where he is! Actually, text his wife cause she will know. And I did. And I got a phone call. Where all I heard was laughing. A lot of laughing. Which reminded me of a scary movie where she gets all these weird phone calls then the creepy guy shows up. (When a Stranger Calls). (Mind one. He was there the whole time. Did you even watch the movie??)  But the number was the number I texted earlier. Finally she starts talking. My dad's friend got a flat tire and then, thinking no one was home, didn't bother to knock on the door. But I was home. He just had his wife come get him and didn't bother to tell me that he was there. (That part right there is why it's like the movie, Mind One.) And I ended up being totally freaked out. And everyone else in the world thinks it's just hilarious. Well it was really scary!! And now I am scaring myself talking about so Mind Two is done. With this post.

Mind one.

I think this is hilarious as well. Now my turn for a horror story.

Earlier in this summer, I was spending time with my friend in Nampa, but when I got dropped off no one was home. In all honesty I thought someone was home, and this is why.
1. The garage door was open, and there was in fact a car parked in it.
2. The door was unlocked.
3. The dogs didn't try to murder me when I walked in.

My friend (the troll mentioned in many earlier posts), was at a dance camp, so I knew not to expect her. I was however expecting SOMEONE. Troll lives with six other people, so odds are, that house is never empty. I began roaming around the house trying to find someone and tell them I was there, so I didn't scare the crap out of them. This bites me in the ass later. After the third time I had checked every room in the house and circled the yard, I had to accept that I was alone. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, if this wasn't like...the house of the devil. (Who was not diving in dim dark doorways, I checked.) Eventually I found out where everyone was.
1. Sir Rod and Lady cookie were at the store, and took the Durango, and left the car. (Problem number one.)
2. Step-Brother 1(Brandon) was at his fathers house. (Normally he just hides in his room, so I was counting on him being in there. Problem number two.)
3. Step-Brother 2 (Ethan)was...actually I can't remember where he was. Somewhere that wasn't there. He's small and easy to miss.
4. Sister 1 (Kylie) was at work, I didn't know this, but I just saw her truck was gone and went with it.
5. Sister 2 (Mia) was at her moms, I knew this, so no surprises.

So after running around their house, many many times, I finally realized, I was there alone. Cue epic paranoia, now I'm stealth creeping through their house praying that someone would come home and I could be like. "Oh hey! I just got here, wierd that no one was home, but welcome back!!" And that would be less wierd. But noooooooo, no one came home for a solid fifteen minutes. Now I feel like the biggest creep in the world, and start trying to call everyone. Troll doesn't answer, thats okay, she's at camp, understandable. Stepbrother 1 doesn't answer, less okay, I obviously need his help. Sir Rodney doesn't answer, (I don't know why I called him third.), and it goes to voicemail, but...it's not his voice, or his name thats said. That creeped me out hardcore. I had one number wrong, but maybe I'm in the wrong house too. Maybe that's why no one is home. (Don't ask why my mind made that leap, it just did.) Now I was out of numbers, and a little panicked. I felt like a freak and a half chillin in their house when they didn't know I was there. So I went and sat out in the garage, in like, 98 degree heat, and waited. That whole phone cluster took about ten minutes, so I'd been there alone, roughly half an hour. (I did try calling my dad, but he didn't answer cause he was driving, smart daddy.) I couldn't get any of my nampa friends to answer, and I'm really freaking out. What if they never come home, what if I stuck here forever in the garage cause I'm too wierded out to go inside? Then, inspiration hits, Mexi!!!!! Step brother 1 has a friend also named Brandon, which causes everyone pain when trying to talk to them or about them, which lead to the friend being called Mexi. (Obviously he's half Mexican. It's not my racist joke this time.) I call him, hoping, praying, that he will have Lady Cookie's number, being the dependable little Mexi he is. But no, HE DOESN'T ANSWER. At this point I send him a rather strongly worded text message explaining my situation and how everyone and their freaking dog was ignoring my calls. Being the nice kid he is, he laughs at me and finally I get her number. Victory. Of course when I call her, she yells at me. For sitting outside, and not making myself at home. Well excuuuuuse me. Next time I'll talk over your house and invite the neighbors as well!!!!

These two stories are the perfect example of why people should COMMUNICATE.

Genius Ideas

Mind Two:

Guys, it really is a wonder how I am not a billionaire yet. (Yes, billionaire, not trillionaire. This way I could have my own theme song). I have had so many genius ideas its not even funny. And they are amazing. I am pretty sure a ton of people would pay for these things because they are just that good.

Idea #1
People who shave girls legs for them.
Ok, ok. Stop clapping. I know its genius. But I would totally have this done! I HATE shaving my legs. I go as long as I can without shaving, usually until someone says something. I am even considering not shaving for prom (my dress is long, so just shut up!) But, if I had someone to do it for me, it would happen more regularly. People say there is waxing, but that hurts like a mother. No joke. I don't recommend it. but I do recommend your own personal shaver. Guys have it for their face, so why can't we?

Idea #2

Mind one.

I've been watching this blog post. For like. Months. Waiting for mind two to finish her ideas. Yes the first one was great, but really. This is where you leave it??? It is funny, cause you dont seem to have THAT MANY FREAKING IDEA'S!!! YOU HAD ONE!!!!! ONE! Why do it?

Mind Two:
I forgot this post was even on here. And I do have tons of great ideas, I just forget most of them after like 10 minutes. I promise to write the next one down and then put it on here.

Mind one.
Okay, it's been like another month. Seriously? What are you even doing? Here's a list on Mind one's Genius Idea's.

#1.
Blog mates who finish the posts you start. How do you think this poor post feels, it's probably crying right now, because you started it and never finished it. Poor little post. And then I go and make fun of it. So not really helpful on my part. Sorry post.

#2.
Schools that give you your yearbook....ON THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!!! OH MY GOD. WHAT A NOVEL CONCEPT. I BET THERE ISN'T ONE SINGLE SCHOOL IN THE WORLD THAT DOES THAT!!!! (insert heavy sarcasm here, and a pissed off face.)

(Just a little side note here. Mind one wasn't feeling very artistic today, which is why this drawing appears to have some sort of claws for hands. Who has time to draw all five fingers? Not this girl.)

(Well that's a truly amazingly shitty picture. So I'll just continue with the rant.)

For those of you who don't know, my school is the epitome of stupid at times. And when I say that, I mean it in the most honest way. Yes it's the only high school my town has, but dear lord must we be this dumb? We do not get our yearbooks on the Seniors last day, like many schools, or even the last day of school, like some schools. Oh no. We get our yearbooks, THE NEXT YEAR!! YAYYY!!! You read that right, we get our yearbooks, the next schoolyear. After all the memories are dulled out by the summer, and we no longer care. If we were a normal school the yearbook signing on the LAST DAY OF SCHOOL would go like this.
"Best friend!! I'm going to write a full paragraph in here, take up a whole page, then draw a penis on my ex's face!!"
"Fake friend!!! I will write a smaller paragraph full of half compliments, half insults, and sign my name so hugely and forcefully a blind man could read it!"
"Creepy kid from math class!! I was hoping you wouldn't find me, now I'll insert some random meaningless phrase that you will take way too literally and now stalk my life!!"
"Cool teacher that doesn't deal with idiots shit!! Please write me a meaningful paragraph about how I'm one of your favorite students and how you'll miss having me in you class so much!!"
You get my point. You will run around pointlessly ambushing people that you probably didn't say six words to the entire school year, but suddenly your life will lose all meaning if you don't get their signature RIGHT NOW.

Let me show you how our yearbook signing is, the next year.
"Best friend!! I'm going to write like three sentances, cause I don't remeber anything from the school year, and all I can think of is our shenanigains from over the summer!!
"Fake friend!! I'm going to write your name hugely, put maybe a half a sentance down and sign my name larger than John Hancock!!" (Every single person reading this better know who John Hancock is, or I'll hit you in the face, with a rubber rooster.)
"Creepy kid from math class!! How is it possible that I suddenly remember seeing you in my peripheral vision all summer long! Creeper! Now I'll sign a fake name and dash away before you notice."
"Cool teacher that suddenly seems way less cool after the summer!! Please write me a sentance or two so I can maybe remember why I liked you so much!!

Obviously having to wait all summer for our yearbooks, is a bad, horrible, awful idea. It makes the yearbook pointless. And it makes everyone write less nice things, seriously, by making us sign yearbooks the next year, you guarentee that 90% of the things written will be rude, or just less cheerful and kind than they would be if we signed at the end of the year. Yes I realize that you, Mrs. Yearbook lady think we just can't live without pictures from the last week or so of school, I promise you we could, but here's an idea. Most school's have the same problem, and they remedied it in a way that doesn't make the student body want to beat them with rubber roosters. They send out a...wait for it...SUMMER SUPPLIMENT!!! A couple of weeks into the summer, BOOM!, in your mailbox, is a little packet, that can be stapled or glued, or even stuck with gum, into your yearbook. Now you have everyones nice signatures and happy paragraphs, AND ALL THE PICTURES FROM THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR!!!!!!!!! What a thought! What an idea!! What a work of pure genius!!!!

And that Mind two, is how you turn a genius idea, into a rant, and still get the post done. Love youuu!! Mind one out.

Mind Two: again.

Ok, first of all, this isn't really my fault. I always start things and then lose interest in them, like the piano or volleyball, or wearing clothes other than sweats, and this blog post. I ran out of ideas. I only started it for two reasons:

1. I REALLYYYYY want to find someone who will shave my legs for me. It is such a pain and waxing hurts wayyyy too much. So if someone reading this post would start that up, it would be greatly appreciated.

2. I was sort of hoping that Mind One would have a bunch more ideas to add.

And it's a good thing I started this post cause without it, Mind One would have never put up the part about yearbooks. And now someone from the school faculty is bound to see this post eventually and read it and fix this problem. And probably by senior year we will all have really amazing signatures and a few pages at the back stuck in with gum. So about being a slacker? Your welcome.

Oh yeah! Blog post yeah!!

Mind one.

Have you ever found yourself developing a seriously annoying speech habit, and you have no idea where it's coming from. Such as how some people throw the word like around like cocaine at Charlie Sheens birthday. I have an even more annoying habit bubbling up like toxic sludge. I now suddenly, for no apperant reason, like to throw the word "yes?" at the end of every sentence. It's like suddenly I cannot make a statement and everything must be put in question form.

I also just noticed that since I used throwing "like" around, I've used the word like in every sentence. Gah.

This yes habit makes me sound foreign... I sound like Fez off That 70's show, when really I'm much more like Hyde. It's starting to get annoying, hearing myself phrase everything as a question.

"I like that color, yes?"
"I love these cookies, yes?"
"I'm retarded, yes?"

I finally kicked the habit, but now I have a worse one. It's called. "I watched too much jersey shore with the troll and now I constantly quote it!" I just can't win.

"Oh yeah! Blog post yeah!"
"Grenades everywhere!!"

Mind Two:
I have that problem too sometimes. I watch a lot of really funny movies and then start quoting them and people look at me like I belong in a metal hospital.

"I prefer the velociraptor because you can also gently bite or claw people."
"I will blow your face, clean off your face."
"I'd give her a HAH! And a HI-YAH! And a WOO-AH! And then I'd kick her sir."
"Your killing me, Smalls."
"You think I'm gorgeous. You want to hug me. You want to kiiiisssss me."
"Your my new partner. You have to like me. And...and protect me if someone tries to shooot at me."
"Shut up you little potlicker. I'll put you in the microwave."
(In a really deep voice) "I don't like you anymore. Ha ha ha."

The devil dives in dark dim doorways.

Mind one!

Okay by  now, most of the like...9 3/4 people that actually read this blog have figure out a number of things about our blog.

1. The title's almost never, and probably never will, make any sense what-so-ever.
2. Most of the time, the confusing title is explained within the post, but not always.
3. Mind one is almost always angry. Mind two is almost always getting abused by something.
4. Mind one really loves playing with the strikethrough feature. It puts a line through things, but you can still read them! So when racist jokes are made, or offensive words said. Boom!!! Strikethrough. It makes it okay.
5. Mind one starts alot of posts. Like, excessive amounts of posts. I'll start three or four posts. Then forget about them and feel like a failure for not posting.
6. A post with both the minds on it. Can do one of two things. Either the two minds will cooperate, and get along on the post, making a somewhat cohesive thought, or they will go in random directions and spin off the walls. (Yet another reason why the titles don't make sense.)
7. Mind one is a "nerd". And will continuously quote many "nerdy" movies, books, and shows. Get over it. (Also, feel free to think of those quotation marks as sarcastically as possible. Mind one isn't a nerd, I'm just more cultured than the average bimbo. Sue me.)
8. Mind one likes to ramble, but hey it gets her through speeches.
9. Mind two is a failure at coming up with blog titles. Most of the time. Once in a while she pulls a gem out, but most of the time, its Mind one's job to come up with titles. Yet another reason. The titles make no sense.
10. Mind Two doesn't work on the blog as often as she should so Mind One just puts up posts without her.

On to the actual post now!!

In all honesty, I had a great idea going here, it would of been a longer post, and had an actual thought behind it. But do you think I could remember this one small idea for a couple of days? The answer, my lonely reader, is no. Not even at all. So I'm going to go get pizza, start another random post, and hope this one comes back to me. If all else fails, I'll stick a picture of something strange and random at the bottom and consider this a bust.

 Mind Two:

Ok this title makes even no sense to me. Most of the time, I am able to understand the titles and they may not make sense to you, but they do to me, which is why Mind One and Two share a blog. But this title, I am completely lost. I thought this post was going to be like about how Mind One had an encounter with the devil and has now seen the light and decided to be a good person. Haha alright I made myself laugh on that one. Mind One is a ginger by choice, therefore she will never be "a good person".