Hey, nice hair...

I was walking to class earlier today, and I passed a shit ton of pretty girls en route. In my head, I told them as such, which is something that I wouldn't do even if I knew them.

I'm not sure why I can't compliment my friends, but I think there's just something in my head that stops me from doing it. I think that's strange because that doesn't sound anything like me. I comment on everything all the time, with no regard for whether or not it's the right time or place, so what gives?

I think part of it is that if it's to a girl, I feel like I'm gonna come off as creepy or like I'm hitting on them. This is not always the case, especially if they're a friend. I've always thought that complimenting people was supposed to make the feel nice/better about themselves, but for whatever reason, my brain's all stop that's weird. I think it's mostly that I don't want to seem creepy or nothing.

I think this also speaks to another issue I have when talking to girls I find pretty and don't know, specifically that I either freeze up or become unable to speak to them at all. This happened in class today, where we had to interview the people around us. They were all nice and all, and very pretty, but like, how'm I supposed to communicate when my natural response in this situation is to be all, "Umm...uh...hi..." I'm like Dick from "High Fidelity," but only around pretty girls, because otherwise, I'm basically Rob Gordon, only much fucking grumpier, and I don't really care about music as much as I do about movies/TV.

Right, anyway, so back to my original point. What I think I'm gonna do is start to ease into it. Nothing crazy, just say something as I think it's warranted, and let my psychosis be damned.

Ted: So, you're a reporter?
Robin: Sorta, I do those fluff stories at the end of the show, like... Monkey can play a violin. I'm hoping for some bigger stories.
Ted: Bigger... like, a Gorilla with an upright bass? Sorry, you're very pretty.
~How I Met Your mother

In which I take some liberties with dialogue from "Raiders of the Lost Ark," but keep the scene in tact.

So I'm watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, one of my favorite movies ever. I think I just realized my favorite line in the movie (or possibly even in any Indy movie).

Indy and Marion are walking around a bazaar, looking at stuff with the evil Nazi monkey (heretofore to be referred to as ENM). Anyway, ENM runs off and Marion's all "Oh littlest of the Nazis, where are you going?" to which our gallant hero replies, "Who cares, he's evil, try a date."
Marion "Huh?"
Indy "It's a date, ya eat em!"

The last line there is taken verbatim from the film, and it's the best Indy line ever. Ford's acting the whole film shows a dude who sorta does his job haphazardly, which is fine, but it is this delivery that makes me love this movie like I also love cupcakes. it's just so perfect, it makes it seem like he could've actually been a real guy who taught, archeologized on site, and kicked Nazi ass because they deserved it (which they totally did).

Sparky: I am a choreographer. That's what I do. You are cheerleaders. Cheerleaders are dancers who have gone retarded. What you do is a tiny, pathetic subset of dancing. I will attempt to turn your robotic routines into poetry, written with the human body. Follow me, or perish, sweater monkeys.
~Bring It On (a flick I love, but only the first one, what with it being awesome and all)

Let's clear my desk of a bit, shall we?

Hey there blogosphere! I didn't forgot about you, I just didn't have anything to say, as seems to be the case a lot as of late. Consider this my promise to you, the consumer, to not go this long again without getting my blog on, so to speak.

The reason I started this little experiment was to give myself someplace to write about whatever, and it seems that any good ideas that I've had lately (and by lately I basically mean since I started this (not counting my TV magnum opus)) have not been written. It seems that instead of writing about stuff, I've bitched about it aloud, and as such, I've let my writing slide. So basically what my aforementioned pledge to you will entail me writing here. I will be writing about whatever, be it silly, angry, or maybe even fiction! (Don't count on a lot of fiction, or it being good if I do any)

So that's my pledge to you, humble consumer (all probably none of you, no one reads this, this is just for me to vent the words out of my head). There will be writing, on a hopefully consistent basis. Not daily or anything, but at least once or twice a week, because my writing ability is like a muscle. The more you flex it, the stronger it'll be.

Expect the first post of the rest of my blogging life to come tomorrow (well, that's when I plan to write/post it). This is the preamble, the call to arms, the I don't know what else to call it,for me to read stuff (everything, books, comics, blogs, the internet (I'm gonna read the whole internet one day, it's gonna be great!)) to write stuff, and to enjoy both of them again. I can't wait.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
~Arthur C. Clarke