Boys and Other Atrocities Sent Upon Our Earth

* A post made months ago, so the below feelings are no longer harbored.

You know what sucks? Boys. Boys suck.  They really, really do.

Boys were sent upon our earth to reek havoc within our hearts, and all the while they don't even notice because they are too busy stuffing extra cheesy Doritos in their mouths while playing COD, or even worse carving pumpkins into penises then having the audacity to ask for your flashlight to light the damn thing up.

Yep.  And I still didn't get it back.

Moving on from that statement, I would like to say that even despite their awful, awful ways we still waste our time wondering if he's going to notice our stupid Facebook statuses quoted from silly little love songs or the fact that we straightened our hair so it's like a majestic golden waterfall flowing from our heads.

Nope.

So being "in like' with someone is not easy at all.  You see things were going well.  Then they went downhill.

"Aw, well, what happened?"

HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW. I mean, one second it's "Hey babe, I like you, you like me, we've got chemistry, now let's ride our way around the periodic table of L-O-V-E and let science do the rest."  

Then the next second it's "...." Oh I'm sorry, there's no example for the next second because well, there is no conversacion (yes, that was said in a Spanish accent), no action just the freaking WIND BLOWING THROUGH THE HOLE IN MY HEART.

Ok, see that was an exaggeration. 

Kind of.

I can do better though. I know I can do better, because let's be honest....

.......

......

Alright, so maybe I can't do better.  I mean, after all I am writing a blog about my petty problems.

I mean...this is a completely fictional blog about somebody else's problems, and I'm just the author reiterating the events in first person.

ANYWHO.

The whole situation, with guys and girls, and how we are all supposed to end up together at some point...yeah, I'm not seeing it.  Right now, I want to trip every guy I see. 

As for the other atrocities.

Let's talk about college.

Now, college is awesome, but I mean when I'm having to write an essay everyday I honestly think I should be getting paid my professor's salary since all my professor does is click a button for the powerpoint (the very bright powerpoint located in a dark little room with NO WINDOWS) to burn my corneas.  The least my professor could do is a little dance when she presses the button.

"Anddddddd for the next slide!" *Cha cha cha!*

Maybe even add some instrumentals. And some backup dancers. Preferably boy dancers with the gelled spiky hair and those poofy vests.  *Backstreet's back alright!*

Apparently this is asking too much.

Sigh.

And the cafeteria food here is getting...predictable. 

Day 1: Mmm mm mmm! Look at all this food! Fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and whatever the hell that is in the stew pot!

Day 2: Oh wow! Fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and stew pot stuff!

Day 3: Oh fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and that crap.

Day 4: Disgusting potatoes shredded with no salt, carbs, carbs, dying greenery, and WHAT THE HELL IS THIS.

Day 5: Starvation.



Well, this has been one heck of a blog!  I was able to release thoughts that have been stuck on my mind lately, and I feel good.

*And I'm feeling good! Dum. Dum. Dum. Duh Dum.*

Okay peace my brothas and sistas from other mothas and mistas.

Signing out of this blog like yeah~Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.  

Waffle Brain Syndrome

Sometimes being a super hero isn't easy.

Sometimes it's a pain in the ass.

Sometimes it's tiring.

Sometimes you want someone else to be a super hero.

I wouldn't mind it if you were my super hero for a day.

It could at least get me through the week.

You could pick me up.

I'd probably feel high for a good while.

I'm not in danger.

I just need some saving.

Do you know what I'm saying?

I'm saying that, eventually, I'll need saving from myself.

Because I can't do this on my own.

You know, I'm sick and tired of fighting crime.

When on the other hand, you could be there right by my side.

****************

Nah, the boy has WBS (Waffle Brain Sydrome) So cross that ^ idea off the list.

Let me describe what WBS is.  You take the "W" away and there's your answer.

It's seen in almost every guy.  See, girls can multitask.  I can go out have fun with my friends, get my homework done, and make time to see that guy I like.

Guy's Brain: Football or girl. I'll go with football.

                     Food or girl. Hm. Food.

                     Hey there's the girl I like! Let me go say h- FRIED CHICKEN?! *Goes to chicken

                     (And FINALLY) Oh there's that girl I like, let me go say hi! *Goes to girl

                     

Boys think in sections.  Hence the name "Waffle Brain Syndrome".  Waffles have sections.  The butter and syrup are put into these sections, whereas with us pancakes (girls), all the condiments can chill happily in one big conglomeration of deliciocity.  

Boys are incapable of this and can only focus on one thing at a time.

So for all of you girls out there, that guy is not ignoring you.  He's just mentally impaired.

Unless you're some psycho freak who watches him when he sleeps and picks strands of his hair to perfect that clone experiment you've been testing for several months, then yes - yes he is ignoring you.  Even if your intentions are honest, he's probably putting campus security on speed dial and considering the bald look because of you.  

Well that's all I feel like saying. Time for a nap because fighting the monsters on campus today was pretty draining.

Signing out of this blog like yeah~

Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.

Supahh Fastttt Updattee!

Hey peeps! So I found some old posts I made way back from my first semester of college.  For some reason, I had taken them down (probably because I felt silly/idiotic) but I read them over and realized, "Eh. They're a little stupid, but what the heck!" 


I'll post them in two seconds! Just make note that they are from awhile ago, and that I no longer hold the feelings described in the posts anymore.


*Also, some new posts are in the making! And by "in the making" I mean I'm thinking about them in my brainium hehe....almost all of my posts are written on the spot with little revision. 


Therefore, I'm sorry for the numerous grammatical air-errs. 


Small joke, small joke. (I know, I'm a loser)


Alright, peace brothers and sistas from other mothas and mistas.


Signing out of this blog like yeah~
Gwen the Super Hero, over and out

Just Some Random Thoughts

Hey guys!


Yeah, I know...it's been awhile.


More than awhile, really. Like weeks. Months. 


Years.


Not really.


But close.


No....


Whatever.


Wow, I haven't written a post in a freaking LONG time!  


Funny story: I was bopping around on the internet like I always do, until I witnessed the most horrific Facebook incident, that it honestly made me puke.


Ok, not puke, but it made me want to write a hate-filled, anger driven, post about how STUPID girls are/can be.


I threw my headphones on and thought "I'm writing a post about stupid girls! I don't even know what time it is because my phone is lost somewhere in my tidal wave of college crap from moving out (Yes, freshman year has ended and it freaking ROCKED)!"


 Until I realized the time is always, unwaveringly located on my laptop. *Duh...


Well, after I decided that I was going to write this post about stupid girls, I decided that why stop at stupid girls? Let's talk about how stupid people can be in general!


On my mark, get set.....GOOO!


So first off, who in the right state of mind would create a photo album entitled "this is what you left behind" and post pictures of herself in front of some ugly curtain, biting her lip in the most awkward/non-modelesque way (hello? you're not a model)?


That's right! No one with stable mental health would do such a thing. 


Next - why would you quote yourself in a status? Who are you? Ghandi? Did you fight for some cause that changed the course of the future?  


Maybe you're fighting for Idiot Rights. 


I don't know.


But unless you're Oprah, George Washington, or the Mean Girl's script - you should NOT be quoting yourself. 


Moving on... - boys!


Boys- unless you are gay, stop acting gay.


Taking millions of pictures of yourselves before you go out on a Friday night to get drunk is not masculine in the least bit.


Posting the pictures on Facebook is an even bigger N-O.


Bringing the camera out with you....that's even gayer than Richard Simmons teaching a spinning class....


Listen, even I, a girl - a fully functioning female who loves all those girly things - won't bring a camera out with her on a Friday night. It's weird.  


Really....what do you do? Get the bouncer of the club to hold your lipstick as you search through your purse to find your camera so you and your 'buddies' can get a decent group shot?


Ew.


No. Just stop....existing.


Just kidding. 


Continue to exist.


But don't bring your camera with you to document your existence.  You're a guy.  Go throw a football or scratch those places where the sun don't shine. Do anything, please, but take pictures of yourself..... Please.


Which brings me to the topic of the classic mirror/phone in face default picture on Facebook.


You know what? No, I can't even bring myself to talk about that topic.


All I'll say is, I'm assuming people are liking your profile picture because they can't see your face behind your huge-ass smartphone with the blinding flash that is reflecting off of the mirror surface.


Great shot of you. Really - never looked better!


Anywho, this is fun! I'm letting off some steam here.  Wow, I feel like a teapot.


Just letting out all of that steam.  It's like a sauna.  


Mmmm. Clean pores.


Next topic!


I absolutely hate being second best all of the time.


Honestly, though, if you knew my life - hahahaha 


It's a joke.


A funny one, I'll give it that.  I mean, even I laugh at it - ha ha ha!


Ew...I sound crazy. No more crazy laughing through a post.


Seriously though.  


People need to stop coming to me, acting like their world is coming to a tragic end because of stupid crap, making me feel like I'm actually making them feel better, which makes me feel like I'm an awesome friend, only to find out that - hey! you're doing a whole lot better the next day! And wow. You're best friends with the person you were venting to me about - about how miserable she was making you feel.  And now, I'm sitting here, alone, like an idiot.


Please - maybe next time you can bring a check considering I'm practically only a therapist to you and NOT a friend. Psh, it's okay - I need the money anyway.


To buy myself a truck.  A big truck!


Topic switch!


I want a truck so badly.  How hot would that be?  Carting my girly ass all around town in a huge, awesome truck?


It would be beyond awesome, okay?  It would be...a word that I can't think of now because I am too exhausted.


Also, another topic change - why can't guys just like the girls that like them?  


See, I like this guy, and I am 100% positive that no girl likes him as much as I do - so why can't I win?  Why can't the person the other person likes the most just like that person back?


Ugh, that was confusing.


Why does Spotify have ads?


Why can't he just seeeeee


Why can't I just say "Yo! You. I like you."


And why can't he be like, "Hey, I heard you were a wild oneeeeeeee!"


Why can't we sing a duet to "Don't Mess With My Man?"


Why am I still typing ridiculous things.....


Why am I listening to oldies right now?


I like the oldies that's why...


Why do I keep asking questions?


Ugh, it's like my philosophy class all over again.


THAT was a nightmare.


And I don't give a damn about my reputationnnnnn.


Why do I have a Twitter account? I hate Twitter.


Why am I still awake....


I need to be up by 7 am.


Happy Eve of Mother's Day!


Okay...that's enough.


May we all have sweet dreams about extremely hot baseball players.


Signing out of this blog like yeah~
Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.

Just A Normal Post...

Let's see how normal this post can last.


So! I forgot to tell you I have a *new* laptop! Sheila is collecting dust somewhere...Huh....I wonder where she is collecting dust....


Anywho.


This one is named Leo!


Yay!


So yeah. That's all I had planned to say, but I guess I'll keep going for the sake of my BOREDOM.


Some people are so mean.  Am I right?


What is wrong with half of the world? Do we need to say rude, unnecessary things? And use such vulgar language?


NO! 


Here's a lesson: If you have a negative comment or a rude remark, then keep it to yourself.  


Now, knowing me, I have a closest full that's bursting at the hinges with mean criticisms I could spew at society. And do I?


Yes! I do!


But maybe it'd be better if I stopped. Like for example, I should stop calling the guy who I liked/like/whatever the hell I feel a dirty, rotten, heartless, rat-like, piggish, butt munching, stupid, ugly, charming, gay, beautiful, jerk. 


*Cough.


That's not quite nice....


Or another example: calling every annoying skank on Facebook (you know, the "like the pic, not the link" twit faces) an annoying skank.  Because they are probably insecure and need mental help.


I'm not very good at this. I'm sorry.


Nevermind this nonsense, topic change!


You know what I've been addicted to lately?


Twitter.


It's so cool because you can make it look pretty! 


I put an ocean wave as my background picture and and I have sea blues and greens as my font colors!  Also, I'm purposefully trying to have hardly any followers because I can tweet about whatever I want without people being offended or me worrying about what other people might think.  


There's too many people on Facebook for me. And it doesn't look as pretty and it's annoying compared to Twitter. Although, thinking of it, people piss me off on Twitter, too.  


I can't escape from the imbeciles. That's why I seclude myself more often than not.  I try to escape them, but they always find me.


Speaking of imbeciles.


Whose idea was it to take pitchforks and burn torches to run out every surrounding town's village idiot into my town?  


No, really.


Driving on my main road today was like being swept up in a horrible circus act with clowns zipping all around me in minivans and moving trucks.


YES. MOVING TRUCKS.


This big, dirty truck that I had been keeping my eye on for a long time (because I saw it stall in the middle of the road...YEAH KIND OF DANGEROUS) decides to pull out right in front of me.


And what is it with people talking on the cell phone?


HELLOOOO ANSWER THIS: WHY ARE YOU DRIVING 60 MPH WITH BOTH HANDS OFF THE FREAKING WHEEL? BECAUSE OMGSH DANNY TEXTED YOU AND YOU JUST HAVE TO TEXT BACK? Um, I don't think that's an excuse! It'll sound like a poor one when people try to explain your untimely croaking!


Enough of this.


Simply thinking of the main road I have to drive on everyday makes my right foot slam down on an invisible gas pedal.


No, no...I don't have road rage...


Not that much anyway.


Well, that's all I have in me for today. 


Signing out of this blog like yeah~
Gwen the Super Hero, over and out