Hahaha, I found this movie terrifying as a kid as well.
Edit: aaaaaand of course they’re making a sequel this year. Nothing is safe. Humans are terrible.
For some incredibly random reason, this little rhyme popped into my head this afternoon and I couldn’t get it out.
Did any of you guys ever sing this in elementary school? I remember G.E. and I sang it quite a bit. It was about as rebellious as you could get in a Catholic elementary school.
The “Missouri” version is most similar to what we sang.
Elementary school, man.
Man, this brings back a lot of memories.
Back when Beanie Babies were a huge thing, I (read: my dad) had a huge collection of them and we were super serious about collecting and preserving them and seeing if we could find any rare ones. We had hangtag protectors, we had display cases for some of them, and when McDonald’s had the Teenie Beanie Babies going on, we would go there as often as possible to get all the Teenies.
Hell, we had catalogs that detailed all the rare Beanies, mentioned pricings for different conditions and different generation tags, and talked about all the rare and different versions of some of the Beanies that had been produced. I would read that catalog every morning when I was at my dad’s house on the weekends.
I remember I always wanted a Caw, but they were like $300 back in the day and I never got one, haha.
It is November 20th today.
As you may or may not know (depending on how long you’ve followed my blog and/or how much attention you pay to past blogs), November 20th is the birthday of the person known as Lead.
Lead, for those of you who don’t know, is the nickname I use for the person that I had a massive, massive, massive crush on all throughout the end of elementary school, junior high, and high school (and it would have started earlier, I’m sure, except he didn’t come to Moscow until 5th grade).
I have long since ceased giving a single fart about this guy, but just the date “November 20th” brings him back into my memory because he was a serious part of my existence for about seven years of my teenage life.
Today, that also brings up something that I’ve come to realize about my mad obsession with this dude that I’ve never really shared. This is a realization I made a long while ago—like, 8th grade, maybe—but was one I kind of kept inside hoping that it wasn’t true, because that truth was more pathetic than frantically stalking a dude for the sake of true love.
(At least, that’s what my 14-year-old brain convinced me of).
This realization? I wasn’t obsessed with Lead because I was in love with him or was soul mates with him or any of that lovey nonsense. I was obsessed with him because I wanted to be him. He was everything I wish I was, especially in junior high and high school when I was so painfully apathetic about, well, pretty much everything but Lead.
The guy was popular. The guy was good-looking. The guy was athletic. And most of all? The guy was smart.
Like… S M A R T.
I don’t know if he actually had a genius-level IQ, but I’m 99% convinced of it. Super smart. He put everyone else at that garbage bag of a school to shame with what he could do with his mental prowess and how easily he seemed to do it. He got a full ride scholarship to some school in Montana after he graduated, but I’m sure if he didn’t take that he could have easily gone to MIT or Harvard or Oxford or something like that. And he would have blown those fuckers away at those schools.
That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be that smart. I probably could have faked my way through high school a lot better if I’d given a crap (I think my cumulative GPA at the end was like a 3.5), but it would have taken work. I would not have been able to do it with the ease he seemed to do everything.*
This is the Amateur Hour psych student in me, but I think I hid my jealousy of him with admiration. I thought, “hey, if I can’t be this guy, maybe I can get him to like me. If he likes me, that means I’m good enough to at least be liked by a dude of this caliber. So let’s do that!”
Anyway. I know, I know, stupid shit. But I figured I’d mention it now that I’m so far removed from him that I don’t even think we’re Facebook friends anymore. Or at least, I’m no longer obsessively checking his Facebook like I used to. Haha.
*Yes, I know I might be wrong about this. He made it look like it was easy for him. Maybe it wasn’t. But goddamn, he sure made a convincing argument that getting through school was as easy for him as slicing butter with a hot knife.
I remember when Tamagotchis were a thing, yo. I think they came out in 1997 in the US. My friend Emily and I needed them, haha. I think either my mom or dad bought me mine from JC Penny. Mine was the “yellow w/ orange” color, Emily’s was the “purple w/ magenta” color.
We took them everywhere.
I eventually amassed at least nine digital pets during elementary school—I had a few Tamagotchis, I had this one bear Tamagotchi knockoff, I had a Dinkie Dino (my favorite), and a whole bunch of others.
Sadly, I lost the giant keychain of them on the airplane back from California. ‘Twas a sad day. I wish I still had all of those, they were great.
So I totally forgot to mention this when I found it a month or so ago as I was cleaning out the crap in my closet, but I found a story I wrote way back in 4th grade.
It’s a bag of trash and there’s 52 pages of it, but I’mma type it up all pretty and post it for you as a blog at some point down the road, ‘cause that’s what my blog is for: humiliating myself.
I wrote a lot of really crappy poetry in junior high.
And since I have nothing interesting to say today (what else is new?), you get said crappy poetry.
Enjoy the cringe.
My chicken longs
For a pair of tongs
To pull it out of the pan.
If it were alive
It would strive
To get out of the pan if it could.
It would, if…
It had a head, some feathers, and a knife.
And I said to my chicken,
“Hey, get a life!”
Go to the John
Puddin’ and pie
Hung the wash
And now it’s dry.
Wish he still had both his eyes
You might believe this guy is great.
Can’t you hear?
Sleigh bells, jingle jangle!
Home again, jiggitty jig.
What to do?
But what the hey!
Jam on biscuits.
Say that again, randomizer.
I wasn’t paying…
Jelly, jelly, jelly…fish!
Looming through the deep
Glowing as it creeps.
Has no brain, no heart, no lungs
Last low tide on a rock it clung
Hung there for 2 minutes or 3
Released it’s suction, now it’s free.
Jelly, jelly, jelly…fish!
He will sting you if you wish.
You shan’t be deceived by the dawn or the night,
Dream small and live large shall be of your might.
Take the sin from your mind and replace it with hope,
Give much of your laughter to repel hatred’s rope.
Hold your love dearly or it might slip away,
Like shepherds with sheep so they don’t go astray.
Live your life with a purpose and not an excuse,
Make sure that your hands get a lot of good use.
Live without judging, but have lots of bliss,
Don’t go off the path and be taken amiss.
Be prepared to find pain and not simply power,
Don’t just smell the roses, stop and kiss a flower.
When the Bulls Come Out
When the sun goes down and the bulls come out,
The moon does shine without a doubt.
All sheep walk on a moonlit path,
While parakeets take a moonlit bath.
The stubborn boar is in this, too,
He lives right by the rendezvous.
The mighty bear, the timid snake,
All come running to partake.
This joyous fest, one time a year,
Rises past the Troposphere.
The stars shine brightly down on them,
All is peaceful, no mayhem.
The from the distance comes a noise,
Which made all the animals poise.
Then out came man, oh yes indeed,
Riding on his noble steed.
He cleared out all the trees and grass,
All creatures did run, so now, alas,
The moon does shine without a doubt,
When the sun goes down and the bulls come out.
I TOLD YOU
Today’s post is another one of those “why have I never shared this with you people?” posts. Ready?
So when I was a kid/tween/teen, I went to Linda Canary’s art camp during the summer. Art camp was two weeks of artistic freedom and bliss—it involved everything from clay to oil pastels to soapstone carving to batiking to plaster mask making. It also involved a lot of shenanigans in tree houses and in Paradise Creek.
I’ve talked about all that before. But anyway.
Linda was really good with kids and gave the camp a fairly loose structure. However, the one thing that we were “required” to make every day was a mandala.
For 20 minutes or so, we would go in the art studio and make mandalas based on whatever mental image or journey Linda would guide us on. During this time of quiet (it really was the only quiet part of the day, haha), Linda would play music over the stereo. Lots of Enya, lots of Deep Forest, lots of instrumental music.
One song she played a few times for us was called Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield. It’s from 1973 and is nearly an hour long song filled with a ton of instruments and interesting musical transitions. Give it a listen. It’s quite awesome.
Yes, the intro part was used in the Exorcist. The rest is so much better.
Y’all thought I was done with the obnoxious home movies yet?
Y’all thought wrong.
Here’s another “series” which is really just two videos titled “Hiking with Altoids” and “Hiking with Altoids II.” I’m a little bit older in these—sixth grade or so, probably.
For whatever reason, Altoids were what was happening in 6th grade. Everyone had a tin of them, we traded flavors, and we had competitions over who could hold the most Altoids in their mouth without freaking out over how strong the taste was. We pretended they were drugs.
Catholic school kids gone bad.
Our family also happened to live in a house with a back yard that ran right up against the U of I arboretum. Which, of course, was a perfect place for a lot of my nonsense movies.
So enjoy Hiking with Altoids and Hiking with Altoids II.
Yeah, this was what I did with my spare time.
So last weekend y’all got The Grandpa Twins. This weekend it’s Coo News at 8:30, aka “The Most Depressing News Channel Ever.”
Not sure what a coo is? Read this.
That “accent” I’m using is how coos talk.
Also, sorry about it getting all warbly at the end. This was at the very end of the tape.
So if you remember, about a month ago I mentioned that I bought a nice cheap (~$50) video camera from Amazon. At the time, I said that the main purpose for my purchasing this video camera would be revealed later.
It’s later, so here we go:
I have hours and hours of old videos I made when I was a kid and was obsessed with my mom’s camcorder. Because I’m too cheap/embarrassed to take these videos to any sort of film/camera place to have them converted to DVD and/or mp4 type thing, I’m going old-school high-quality and will be using the video camera to record the videos playing on the TV so that I can then transfer them to my computer and keep them safe forever (some of the old tapes are really close to breaking).
Anyway, several of these videos contain episodes from a series called The Grandpa Twins. The grandpa twins were two sock puppets (in the loosest sense; I just stuck plain old socks on my hands without any embellishments) who were quite gay and who had incredibly weird adventures.
Let’s make that series the first set of videos I re-record, shall we?
And because this blog is like an extension of my existence, y’all get to experience this nonsense.
These episodes were completely unscripted; I came up with a random theme at the intro and then just went with it. I was also somewhere between 8 and 10 years old (based off the hairstyle and that freaking Simba shirt that I would never take off), so there’s that as well. Yes, there’s paint on everything. Art rules.
So for your enjoyment and my embarrassment, I present the thrilling* saga** of The Grandpa Twins.
- #1: Macky and Goosey
- #2: Goosey’s Music Festival
- #3: Goosey’s Accident
- #4: Macky’s Rap Song
- #5: Goosey’s Writing
- #6: Accident
- #7: Goosey’s First Cold
- #8: Macky’s Crystal Ball
- #9: Goosey Shrinks
- #10: Macky’s Garden
- #11: Goosey and the Manhole
- #16: The Apple Fight (fun fact: this was actually the first one I made)
- #17: Slug
** not really
So you all should love it when I have absolutely nothing to blog about, as that usually results in me dredging up some embarrassing piece of nonsense that I wrote/drew/acted in the distant past in order to fill the day’s blog post quota.
Example: Today’s post, in which I scan the pages of a children’s story I wrote in first grade. It was a coo story, because I was all about the coos back then. I wrote/illustrated the story in first grade, but in 1997 (fourth grade? Third grade? I dunno), I made a “fancy” copy of it where I typed out everything in Word and re-drew the illustrations to make it look better than the original first grade scrawl. I also made all the “official book info” by copying almost directly from the inside page of a Babysitter’s Club book.
So enjoy. (Note: their names are pronounced “heeb,” “OH-lay,” and “peeb”)
Plots are hard when you’re a first grader.
So I still feel like about 27 different layers of garbage, so I’m going to post stuff that reminds me of random nonsense from ye random olden days.
- I played a lot of this. I still suck at basic math.
- This one, too.
- This song and music video will always remind me of 10th grade, since we’d always turn on MTV during Sports Med (yes, I took Sports Med. I have no idea why) and this was a popular vid back then.
- This show was always on late at night when I was a kid and spent Friday and Saturday night at my dad’s condo. Does anyone else remember this?
- Space Ghost: Coast to Coast was always a late night thing, too. I did not understand that show as a kid.
- Oh, Cartoon Network. I miss the way you used to be.
I was digging through a drawer of all my old notebooks/papers/whatever/crap ‘cause I needed to find something specific for reasons I won’t go into here.
But at the bottom of the drawer, I found the one old journal I kept from first grade. I wrote a lot in first grade. A lot. I probably had over 20 journals full of coo stories (what’s a coo?). Granted, my writing was HUGE back then and I padded the stories with a lot of illustrations, but it was still quite a lot of writing for a first grader, in my opinion.
So in the spirit of nostalgia, have some scanned pages of the notebook I found today.
So here’s a video I’d completely forgotten I’d uploaded to YouTube (I found it after logging onto my old AntarcticaFreak account).
This is my mom filming me doing stuff with stencils (??). Also, animals. The kitty is Baby Slick, and the dog is Mindy. This was our house in Troy.
Do you sometimes really miss parts of your past for no real reason? Not, like, particular events or days or anything like that, but routines or schedules that you remember you used to have at various points in life that you don’t have anymore.
I miss my past sometimes.
I don’t know why I felt like saying that. It’s not like my present is bad or anything—it’s the opposite, in fact!—but I just every once and awhile really, really miss the way things used to be.
Yeah. Sorry. Don’t have much to say today.