How To Lose Friends and De-Influence People:
Make spaghetti but use lasagna noodles instead of spaghetti noodles.
Make lasagna but use spaghetti noodles instead of lasagna noodles.
That’s my profound thought for the day.
I hate everything.
Good lord, what is this
Welcome to the experimental film stylings of Young Claudia.
I have no idea how old I was when I made this, but that looks like the house on Borah, so maybe 5th or 6th grade?
Either way, I was freaking Spielberg.
My Half-Awake Brain is Really Weird Sometimes
So last night I sacked out in my chair, got woken up by Nate when he went to bed, and then just crashed in the chair again. When I woke up around like 5:30, I was just coming out of a dream and I felt like it was such a SUPER IMPORTANT AND INTERESTING DREAM that I got my phone out and typed a summary of the dream into the “Notes” app so I could recall it later.
Here’s said summary:
So yeah. Super important and interesting, huh?
Also, does anyone else ever have like a soundtrack in their dreams? My dreams frequently involve montages and there’s always some sort of music playing as they’re happening. Then there’s like a reprise of that music later.
Odd news.
Where…where did this come from?
I swear to god I don’t remember making this, but I can’t find where I would have downloaded it and this is EXACTLY the kind of stupid thing that I WOULD make in a fit of LOLOLOLOL, so who the hell knows.
(Yes, I uploaded it to YouTube in August 2023 because it wasn’t there originally…just on my compy.)
Sleep? Nah! WHY BUY A MATTRESS
Ya’ll ever think about how weird the word “grocery” is?
Grocery.
Grocery.
Grocery.
I’m going to get groceries.
I’m not high, I promise.
My Weird-Ass Trudeau Dream
I’ve lived in Canada for over a decade in total now, so I’m OVERDUE when it comes to dreaming about the Prime Minister.
So here we go.
Me and a whole bunch of other people are hanging out in that ballroom on the second floor of the SUB at U of I (could there be a more random location for this? I think not). There’s some huge stage set up in the middle and it takes me a little bit of time before I realize that Justin Trudeau is just chilling in the room with us because he’s mostly been on the other side of the stage.
Then he grabs a microphone and announces that he wants to hold some sort of flash art contest in which participants will have about 15 minutes to make some sort of art related to a theme he gives us.
I have absolutely no inclination to participate in this, but my mom is there and she tells me she’s entered me into the contest so I have to make SOMETHING. I’m not too thrilled about this because I want to go home, but I comply and crap out some absolutely horrible piece of watercolor art in the last 30 seconds of the contest.
Trudeau goes around assessing all the artwork (there are like 100 people participating in this thing) and when he gets to mine he studies it for a minute and goes, “wow, that’s great! You go on to round two!”
And I’m like THERE’S A ROUND TWO?
Turns out that’s how the contest works. He picks his favorite [insert random number of] pieces and then those people go on to make another piece of art for another theme.
I still want to get this over with and go home, but as the contest goes on (and I keep moving on to the next rounds), I get really into it and want to make better and better art.
I’m in the 7th round and finishing a really good oil pastel drawing and I freaking wake up from the dream.
So did I win? WHO KNOWS! All I know is that Dream Trudeau really likes my Dream Art.
Weird.
Pantone Perfection
WHEN YOUR PANTS MATCH YOUR SHOES
AND YOU CAN’T SING THE BLUES
CAMOUFLAGÉ
(total rip-off of the wonderful “when the moon hits your knees / and you mispronounce trees / sycamore”)
It’s a blog!
No one cares!!!!!1!11!111one!
If the first verse of “All Star” was written by Guy Fieri
Somebody once sold me
A bunch of ravioli
With 40,000 spices inside
It was looking kind of wild
But actually was mild
So I went into my trailer and cried
That’s…that’s all. This stems from a Jeopardy question, don’t even ask.
(This is so dumb, I know.)
Today’s deep thought: we spend time and energy to create soft pasta, then dry it out to make it hard, then eventually put it in water to make it soft again.
Today’s Deep Thought™ is brought to you by sleep deprivation and spaghetti.
Petition:
Make Quentin Tarantino temporarily change his name to Pent-In Quarantino during the COVID quarantine and have him make pandemic-related movies. Who’s with me?
A Thought:
I propose that they officially change the name of Big Ben to “Large Benjamin.” It just sounds so much more British.
Also, “Big Ben” sounds like a name that bullies on the playground would come up with.
This is why I have no friends.
Roses are red, violets are blue
Other flowers are other hues.
(Sorry, I dreamt that goddamn stupid rhyme and I don’t have anything else to say today. Also, I’m a month late for actual Valentine’s day, THANKS BRAIN YOU SLACKER.)
THE SPONGES, THEY CALL
You guys, I bought these today ‘cause I thought they were cute.
Li’l spongies!
Do I have a problem?
I sPeNt WaY tOo MuCh TiMe On ThIs
I drew the pommel horse equipment guy from last night’s dream because I couldn’t get this damn image out of my head.
(Sorry for the crappy quality, I haven’t drawn in approximately 40 years and perspective is hard.)
[insert stupid title here]
Can this feeling of utter hopelessness be over now, please? I’d like to get back to all the lighthearted whining I usually do rather than “wah, I’m sad” whining.
In This Blog Post: A Silly Blog Post
This picture has been my desktop background for a while, so I made a thing out of it.
BLaldufoisdhkjdaghadkfh
CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SUN
YOU’LL BE DWARFED WHEN YOU ARE DONE
LAY YOUR FUSION CORE TO REST
DON’T YOU BURN NO MORE
(Ignore me, I’m feeling lousy and this was pretty much all that was in my head.)
Claudia’s Miscellaneous Blog of Blogging and Miscellany (mostly internet stuff)
Hello reader(s)!
I was on campus from 7 until about 5:45 today, so all I wanted to do was screw around on the internet tonight. Hence, you get yet another craptastic blog! I doubt you’re surprised. BUT…I’ll change it up a bit and give it to you in numbered parts, how about that?
PART ONE: Vines!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjGsirjbyVA
BAnanaNA!
PART TWO: USA
The last time I played GeoGuessr (a looong time ago), they just had the world map and I could guess with moderate accuracy.
But now they’ve got a United States map (among other specific maps) and I’m MUCH better at that.
PART THREE: YATTA!
I totally forgot to post Irrational Exuberance that day I posted all those early-2000’s videos.
OHIO!!!!
PART FOUR: JAPANESE HISTORY
Massive crab. Massive damage. (Sean showed me this like six years ago and for whatever reason it was brought to my mind again today)
PART FIVE: FartParty McGee
I REALLY want to draw, but I can’t think of a good enough idea.
THE END!
Do my crappy posts get you down? Don’t despair! I have a “serious” post I’m working on that I’ll probably post soon. Lucky you!
Claudia’s Pointless Blog Post of Pointlessness
So I have a metric crapton of pictures on Vaio.
But I think this one is still my favorite.
(Yeah, that’s all I got for today, sorry)
Random Thought of the Week
If “Anscombe’s Quartet” isn’t the name of some statistics department’s barbershop quartet somewhere, then there is something seriously wrong with this universe.
My Atmosphere
Idea: some company should make a type of gnocchi and call it Fibonocchi. The box would have to have some sort of mechanism where it would only dispense the gnocchi in quantities of Fibonacci numbers. Like if you shake it five times you get 0 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 3 = 7 gnocchi.
And it could only be served with rabbit.
I think I need to sleep.
Sleep Deprivation Makes Me Cooooool.
Theory: Cinnamon Toast Crunch is Cap’n Crunch’s estranged son who, rebelling aginst his father’s wishes that he join the Navy, took up a life of stripping. His real name’s like Gary or something and “Cinnamon Toast” is just his stage name.
I’d like to know how that went down when Cap’n Crunch found out.
Like one day The Cap’n comes home from a long day of Crunchatizing and finds li’l Gary taking off all his cinnamon in a bowl of milk to the tune of “You Sexy Thing.”
“Dad! I uh…what are you doing home so early?”
“Son, what are you doing?”
“I, uh…just…”
“Get out of the milk, son.”
“But da—”
“Get out of the milk.”
Completely unrelated:
Oh crap…2007…
HAPPY NEW YEAR, PEOPLE!
Also, today is yet another blog anniversary. I’m not even keeping track anymore, dangit.
Anyways, this one’s for you, Maggie:
The explanation as to why Spork=Insanity
SPORK
Pork=bacon
SBACON
Bacon=”inside” a pig. Use the “in” and put it on the left “side” of “sbacon.”
INSBACON
Bacon can sometimes be unsanitary. Replace “bacon” with “unsanitary.”
INSUNSANITARY
The sun has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Delete it.
INSANITARY
To rid the word of the “a” and the “r”, think of something that starts with those two letters. Like AR (accelerated reader) books. Did you have to read those in junior high? Didn’t you hate that? Don’t you want to rid your mind of the experience? Yes? Good. Delete the “a” and the “r.”
INSANITY
How long can these subject headings be, anyway? I mean can you just ramble on and oh here it is
I’m calling this a game, but it’s more of a psychological profiling type thing I devised last night in a moment of strangeness (one of many!).
You are given this question:
A quantum physicist, a lawyer, and a cat are placed into a white 10×10 room. They are given the question: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make a sound?” and asked to answer it. They are locked in the room and given no food or toiletry items. After twenty-four hours, the door is unlocked and the subjects are removed. Who is the victor, the quantum physicist, the lawyer, or the cat?
Your task is to answer the question with a full and complete (a sentence or so) detailed report of how you came to your answer and why you think you are correct.
The first person to answer correctly wins a free lap dance!
I’m not kidding!
Aneel, you already have a head start, but I suggest you get moving. I know you want that lap dance.
Eigenblogger 