I am the Walrus

Sometimes, I feel like fishing.

Then I remember, I don't like to fish.

So I don't.

Sailors Fighting in the Dance Hall, oh man, Look at Those Cavemen Go

Bon Giorno, hungry citizens.

So I'm spending a little bit of time in a city on a very high floor, 23rd in fact. In other words, I am towering over quite a lot of people.

During this time, I have discovered that I my powers of klutziness and reckless driving are far more capable than I ever thought before. Looking down, I saw a man trip up stairs while carrying a box filled with stuff that fell all over, and a person drive the wrong way down a one way.

I know, I couldn't believe it either. Usually the person has to be at LEAST ten feet away for my power to transfer.*

I started playing FFX again. This time I hope to beat it rather than stopping at the last time you fight Sin and quitting. Thanks to a request from Mufasa, I'm naming all my aeons after rulers that killed a lot of people...well mostly, anyway. My Valefor is Stalin, Ifrit is (demanded by Mufasa) Kim Jong Il (well actually Kim Jng Il because of the character spaces) and Ixion is Mao Zedong (actually Mao Zdong). Any ideas for Shiva (preferably a girl), Bahamut, the three sisters (not necessarily girls), the samurai dude, and/or Anima?

Gatorade, not as good as water, but for some reason I'm drinking it.

Didja see the new rvb? It's a doooooooooozy. Well, not really, but it is funny.

I have this idea for a story and now that I have all this alone time, I really thought I'd be working on it. Instead I find myself in other stories, BAH. I've read a lot lately. Jules Verne is sooooooo two centuries ago.

I don't know if Bunraku is actually going to come out as a movie. So it might still be awhile until Gackt and David Bowie meet, thereby delaying the end of the world.

Maybe then I'll have time to work on my story. Or read Sandman. Or Bleach. Or Hemmingway. Or Pratchett. Or the myriad of collections of short stories I have in my room. Le sigh.

Feels like I haven't seen anyone other than my Dad in awhile. So no new stories about Bosley, Mufasa, or the others.

Oh! but wait. I have an old story. About Mufasa. We were at a grocery store (marvelous things, those, but where's the Calpis?!) and...welll I guess I need a little bit of set up here. As siblings, Mufasa, Mo-mo and I often share shirts. (and sometimes even hats, le gasp!) So I have this shirt with an owl on it, and Mufasa happened to be wearing it at the time. Well, an old lady came up and pet him. His arm, and the back where the owl was. Apparently she used to save owls.

I don't suppose any of you know how long it would take for suns to change places in a binary star system? Nah, me either.

I like rain.

P.S. Yes, yes you can.

P.P.S. In Soviet Russia, you don't use computers, computers use YOU.

* reading over this again, I realized that I should have said at MOST, not least. Just think of what my powers of misusing the English language could do. Bahaha.

P. P. P. S. I just watched some Australian football. That shiz iz crazy.

Burn the Land; Boil the Sea; You Can't Take the Sky from Me

Well.

Pretty deep subject for such a shallow mind, aaaaaahahahah.

I kill myself. Or at least I bet you wish I would. I see the way you look at me. With your eyes. Incredulously.

That's right, I said it.
The thing is, I'm not sure I can actually say that word out loud. If I could, would you promise to stop wishing I wasn't alive?

If so, maybe I'll practice saying it. If not, I'll continue to trail off after 'incred' and hope you're distracted by something shiny or don't know how to pronounce it either so awkward silence interrupts the conversation.

Ever read Jules Verne? I'd heard he was the father of steampunk, and I like steampunk (I have goggles), so I gave him a try. I checked out a book from a library (yes, they still exist, despite the best efforts of kappas) that had three of his books in one.

Disclaimer: Yes, I know the books are old. Yes, I know not all cliches were cliches back then. Yes, I know most people were racist back then. Yes, I know things change. Yes, I know oranges are not always orange, but in fact sometimes have a greenish tinge.

Book one: Around the World in 80 Days. An okay book, but quite easy to tell he is racist (everyone does everything because of the country they're from, 'you could tell he's German because'....'he said this in a way only an English man could'...'Like a true American...', plus apparently all Japanese women are unattractive) and sexist (There's really only one female, but she starts off kidnapped by 'savages,' and travels with them the rest of the way barely saying anything, just buying dresses, and ends up wanting to marry the main character...I believe there's a term for this cliche...I think it ends in damsel and starts with distress, but maybe it's the other way around) and classist? (his servants are always immensely happy to be servants and willing to do whatever it takes to make their master happy, often valuing the master's life far above their own). Main character starts off interesting, goes nowhere with it. Ending is quite blah.

Book two: From the Earth to the Moon. Boring. So many scientific facts, most with notes saying that it's now been disproved. No kiddies, you can't make a giant slingshot in order to get to the moon. Unless you're Santa and giving gifts to the moonlings. If that's the case, I grant you special permission. It's actually the first book in years (not counting books for school) that I just gave up on and didn't finish. I didn't care about the gun club not having things to shoot at, or any of the people in it.

Book three: 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Best of the lot, by far. Still racist and classist, but there's no females so no sexism. I still have 80 pages left though, so that could change. Best thing about it: Captain Nemo. He starts out mysterious like Phineas did, but this time Verne actually goes somewhere with it. The scene where the Nemo makes them hide, and then the next day there's a dying man on board...my favorite part so far. The description of fish and plants gets kind of repetitive, but meh. And they go to Atlantis! Which is sorta one of my hometowns, so I got excited.

Oh, but this line cracked me up: 'In light-hearted countries jokes were made on the subject; but in grave and practical countries like England, America, and Germany, much attention was paid to it.'

Bahah. See what I mean? No, you don't, you're too busy looking at me incredously. Well, I'm still trying to find an example of a light-hearted country.

Oh well, even if the last 80 pages disappoint, after this I'm reading a bunch of short stories by Haruki Murakami, a Russian dude I forgot the name of, and I've got a couple left in a sci-fi/fantasy anthology.

Speaking of sci-fi...I finally finished Firefly!!! Yatta!!! and sadness. Still haven't watched Serenity but will do so in the next couple days. I am deeply sad that Legend of the Seeker continues to run, but Firefly was cut short. Blech. If you haven't watched it, do so. It's amazin' and shiny.

A month or more so ago I took Mo-mo out to eat and we told each other stories. Well first I made her tell me a story but it was boring and was exactly what we were doing at that moment. So she made me tell one, and I told the story of Om-om, a girl eternally looking for peaches at a volcano, and Ydnag, a girl living in antartica wearing the skins of penguins. I can't remember what happened exactly, but I shouted something about elves pretty loudly and everyone looked at me. I just stared at the window and drank my Coke (which was bad enough as it was).

A couple months before that even I was in the car with...well she wants a different name that I forgot what it was, so I'll just call her 'G.' So I was in the car with G and Bosley was getting gas. I noticed the car in front of me had a license plate from Alaska. So even though this was before I read Verne, I guess he helped me figure out what Alaskans are like.

They all:
~ wear white baseball hats
~ wear shiny shoes
~ drive black trucks
~ travel with another friend in a flanel shirt
~ stare at the display while pumping gas
~ smell of penguins (and Ydnag would know)
~ have that white hat so that it can be transformed into an igloo for sleeping purposes
~ sleep in said hat-igloo while traveling

There you have it. Now you will know. If you meet someone who claims to be Alaskan and doesn't meet up to these, they're either lying to you, or are some kind of halfsie.

So look with that incredoulous stare of yours. Because there could be one behind you right now! :o

I learned the kanji for saitei, and I think it fits this blog pretty well, so that is how I'm going to end it now.

最低

Missing in a maze of monochrome

Hisashiburi da neee. I am back, mostly due to popular demand. Popular demand being two people and a poplar. Bask in my fame! I demand it back from you!

Now that you're done basking, ... what.

I wish I was controlling a wolf that paints with it's tail right now, but there are men throwing balls on the tv instead.

Bosley and I were walking a most fearsome beast by the name of Retnuh (haha, retina...) when I noticed that a tree that looked like it was smiling. Bosley and our other nameless friend agreed. I told Bosley that it only had a smile for her, and without her it would be but a sad lonely tree. Bosley said she'd been too loved by people lately (and she says that's not a hint...but me and my peg leg know otherwise). So I said that the tree hated her more than any other human, and that when she would wake up all the trees would scream 'Bosleyyyyyyy' in a hiss.

And if anyone can scream and hiss at the same time, it would be the trees.

Today I battled a hoary gremlin. I'm not sure what that word means, but it looks threatening. It doesn't sound as threatening, due to semantics. My only weapon was a plastic tube. Its only weapon was ink. At the beginning I was prevailing, conquering, even, and then at the end, I was covered in ink and sad. Them gremlins are tricky fellas. If you ever come across one, make sure you have a foot scrub. Their feat are nasty. Hah, that's a pun that only I get and you think you might, but really it just confuses you.

Just smile and then frown, alternating between the two every couple of seconds. Now and then throw in a thin-lipped grimace, just to prove you're human and have the normal range of emotions. They'll believe you.

I don't though. You can fake it for the papers, but I'm on to you, I'm on to you.

Actually, I'm not human either. I find more evidence day in and day out that I am in fact a robot, android, or made entirely of foam. For example, today I got a new number. I won't tell you what it is though, or you could take it for your own, and then I'd be a sad robot/foam being.

Ah, I can finally change the tv from the sportsified men, but alas the orange-haired man has few words left.

This is far too strange a blog for only being 11:22. Then again I woke up at 5:30 and went to sleep at...2?ish.

Maybe it's time for me to end this before I trip and spill yet another liquid all over something else that is not supposed to have liquid on it.

Dakaraaaaaaaaaa

owari.

Oh, and don't forget to bask.

Talking to Myself All the Way to the Station

So I found out today that Mufasa has a super power. He can make it so that he can see double images if he wants to, without changing the appearance of his eyes. It's crazy. So his super-power is being drunk, without being drunk. I said I have that superpower with speech.

Mufasa said, "Get it? Because you say stupid things. Like you would if you were drunk."

...

Whhhat else. Oh, I saw a parking sign that had a smudge on it that looked like a piano from far away. So I thought, why would someone need to park a piano? Well of course I was immediately reminded of the old cartoons, where maybe they needed to park it before they pushed it up a high building to drop it on someone's head. However this sign is located no buildings at all, only by a field. So maybe it was put up by dwarves or worms. And they would be dropped down through a conveniently placed trapdoor onto someone's head, comedically of course. That or it's all part of The Conspiracy.

Oh, and Mufasa apparently also wrote for not just Sheryl Crow, but Utada Hikaru, at least for the song Sanctuary. He sang a rather convincing rendition of it for Mo-mo and I today.

My eyes are watering from tirednesssssss. Twizzlers are yummy. Did YOU celebrate pie day? Because if you didn't, that's sad. Even my cat did. Well, I made a pie out of cat kibbles for him. I cannot spell anymore. I think these spell checks are bad, I am far too dependent on them. Words spelt right look wrong and those spelt wrong look right. Thanks for the un-education, spell check!

I made another blog for some comics I drew up. Unfortunately I can't find batteries for my camera, so I have yet to upload them.

I've been playing a lot of retro games lately. Like Tomb Raider and Final Fantasy VI. So I have a few stories about them that will amuse only me. First, I think it's hilarious that Lara Croft can not separate her arms. There's one cutscene where she's staring at this monster/statue thing, and part of it falls off. She moves the guns from the fallen part to the standing part at least three times. She has a gun in each hand. Wouldn't it make much more sense to separate your arms and point at each thing?

And FFVI is pretty awesome. For such tiny characters they can show a lot of emocchine (sorry, inside joke with myself). For instance, Kefka, an awesome villian. He's the only character that I can think of that could say 'hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate HATE YOU' and then push someone off a floating continent (all while being 4 pixels big) and I'd believe that they'd say it. By the way, that was an estimation, not an exaggeration. A lot of people seem to die though. Reminds me of DragonLance and FFXII. Someone's always near or at the chopping block.

If you haven't already, check out Ninja!

EEeeeiimm....that's all for now folks.

I'm Blue

I ate pie today.

French silk, in case you were wondering.

You Don't Need a Spaceship, They Don't Know That You've Already Lived on the Other Side of the Galaxy

Disclaimer: This blog post is all Bosley's fault. She made me do it. So point the pitchforks towards her.

I found out why the world is going to end in 2012. Gackt will meet David Bowie.

Think about it; they're obviously the same person. Just one happens to be Japanese. They dance, talk, and look the same (other than the racial differences in appearance, they do. Trust me), and they probably even smell the same, I just haven't gotten close enough.

Well if you didn't know Gackt is making a movie with Josh Hartnett called Bunraku. Naturally, as the Japanese man, Gackt is named Yoshi and is a samurai. (You have to give them creative credit on this-he could have been a ninja. That's just overdone.)

Anyway, because of this movie, Gackt (presumably) now knows English pretty well...and having been to the states a few times, (including with S.K.I.N....with Miyavi! zomg.) he will start to meet other famous people...and this will gradually build up...until he meets his twin soul!

And if you've ever watched any time traveling movie at all, you know that it is impossible to exist in the same place at the same time...twice. So the world will either implode or explode...I'm not sure which. I'm thinking explode, because the world will want to share such greatness with the rest of it's friends.

Then again, this world being the only one known for sure to have oceans and stable sources of water, it's kind of greedy. It never shares with other worlds, and I'm guessing Mercury could do with a good drink, and I know Venus could. Pluto (YES it's a planet and always will be, even if it's picked on by us) probably doesn't want anything to do with us after we decided it's no longer one of us. That and it's really cold, so it probably would only want the hot springs anyway, and that'd be unfair to the rest, especially Saturn.

Well anyway, if that's the case then I guess the world would implode, wanting to keep the greatness that is Gackt and David Bowie all to it's self. And such stars are meant to live among the stars! Such a sad world we live in. Er, well, on. And after it implodes or explodes...not on.

Oh yeah, I was going to talk about music too. First off, lately I've kind of been wanting to find some new, maybe slightly more upbeat music. And I found out that the Dresden Dolls made a silent film with Panic at the Disco and toured with them. Since I love the Dresden Dolls beyond words (besides those I just used to express my love), I thought, all right, I'll try that. I tried the cd Pretty. Odd, or something like that...eh. It wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't brilliant either. They have some good things going, but then they repeat it, over and over and over and over. That's too many overs for me.

Kinda funny that I like songs like Slipping Away and 10 Miles High by Nine Inch Nails...but I guess there the voice is almost like an instrument...also the music changes enough to keep my interest. PatD just repeats everything...repeatedly. I like a couple songs, and I'd be willing to try another CD, perhaps that was just the boring one, but I don't think I'll go back to that again.

My other music news is that I read a review of the song Dear Jenny (which, if you don't know it, why are you still reading my blog? Go listen to it!) by the Dresden Dolls. And the person who reviewed it was upset because her name was Jenny, and she felt it badly represented the (Jenny's? Jennies? good thing I'm an English major or this would be a hard decision to make.) of the world. I couldn't help but think that if Amanda Palmer wrote a song that used my name, and simply went: "I HATE GANDY I HATE GANDY IHATEGANDY" I'd be ecstatic and love the song forever. "Aww, she wrote about me!" I would delude myself.

Gah, people these days. Ain't got no respecta.

Well anyway, back to the point of this broadcast:

Pay no heed to the comet or black hole theories. Clearly the world will end because Gackt and David Bowie will meet.

I am a Plagiarist, Apologist, a Walrus-gecko-lizard. Ah Oh.

I don't know that I have done anything interesting lately, I don't even think I have anything original to say. I do have some quotes from other people.

A couple days ago I was playing Resident Evil 4, mainly because Mufasa said if I didn't, he'd run some blood tests and prove that we weren't really related. And I hate needles. Anyways, I got to the part just before you meet Ashley in the church. Of course, I was knifing the barrels, when one of them happened to have an incendiary grenade in it. Finding this just a tad odd, I said, "why would a church have a grenade sitting in a barrel?" To which Mufasa replied:
"It's a Spanish church."

Huh. Fair enough.

I also fought this one guy that I swear is rip-off of the troll from Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. Apparently Mufasa and his buddies call this creature "Mr. Growlie-growlie," probably because of his shorts. Well anyway, I did the logical thing and took out the rocket launcher. Killed him in one shot. Mufasa made me start over and fight him the 'proper way.' Pfft. I was glad I'd saved that dog from the bear trap.

I also recently finished "The Colour of Magic" by Terry Pratchett (did you ever realize how many Terry's write fantasy? I'm almost beginning to think it's a prerequisite) and though I was a bit disappointed, it did redeem itself a bit at the end. One of my favorite quotes was when one of the characters starts hearing voices in their head, and this section reminded me, almost to an uncomfortable level, of an internal monologue I go through daily. [Note: so I don't get attacked by rabid Discworld fans, this is not a direct quote. The book is a further away than my arm can reach.]

"I think I'm going out of my mind."
"Good. It was beginning to get crowded in here."

If it makes you feel I'm any saner I hit my head really hard on a metal bar yesterday and there is a large bump. My little sister wants to be called Mo-Mo, after a peach. I thought about calling her Phyllis anyway, because I don't trust her. Or you, for that matter. She keeps staring at this picture on the wall in the hotel room. Personally, I don't know what she sees in it. I can't tell if these paragraphs help or hurt. I really don't care, but as a writer, I am of course worried about your comfort as a reader.

Oh yeah, and the other day as we were maniacally studying Japanese, my so-called friend Bosley (the toucher or semis) killed me. Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. However, it did bring up an interesting debate. You see, in Japanese, there's two words for existing. Imasu,　います, for living things　(like people and armadillos),　and arimasu, あります, for non-living things (like chairs and paper airplanes). So what would an un-dead human be considered? I dunno. We never did settle on an answer. Sometimes productive things can be distracting from the little things that really matter in life.

I tried to drink another Sobe, but the cap wouldn't open. I had to use a knife, and that was difficult. Would you really trust the person who wrote this blog with a knife?

Yeah.

He Was High on Intellectualism. I've Never Been There But the Brochure Looks Nice.

So last night a baby tried to eat my face. Not even joking. It was really scary. Luckily babies are pretty easy to subdue, but of course it made me think of what it would be like if someone like Arnold Schwaraskjfksadfds tried to. Scary.

Also, last night I talked for awhile with my friends Clydesdale and Eli'th (the apostrophe is pronounce 'apostrophe', so you would say eliapostropheth). We watched this special on Nostrodamus, and naturally, as all things do, it led to the subject of Stonehenge. That's when Clydesdale realized she wanted to be a druid. Well, as Eli'th pointed out, druids are male. And Clydesdale is quite obviously a female. There's also the problem that she's American (or so I thought). So she was talking about wearing a sign that said she'd taken a vow of silence to disguise her voice, and wearing a lot of clothes to cover it up. Then I pointed out that she still walks American, and even if she faked a limp, they would be able to tell. That's about when she told us that she was not, in fact, American, but from Belgium, and therefore Belgisch.
I learned a lot about the Belgisch culture that night.

For instance, I found out that instead of a heart, she had a void. Wanting to know what would happen, I removed the void, very ninja-like. Turns out she had a gnome living there! Well. Turns out the Belgisch and end up rebuking a lover if their gnomes don't like each other. And apparently the hairer the gnome, the better. Also the Belgisch have very good chickens and chocolate. That's what she was going to use to bribe the druids (while contradicting her vow of silence sign, I might add). However, they only eat foods that end in the letter 'o'. So they can't really eat their famous foods. I guess that means a lot of profit comes from exporting? Interesting culture, but not one I think I want to be a part of. I've still never met a gnome though. I guess now I've been very close to one, but Clyde wouldn't open her heart cavity for us to meet him/her.

I'm hungry.

Oh, also, besides the baby trying to eat my face, Mufasa bit my foot, Clyde slapped me in the face (saying that there was just something about my face that made her want to punch it) and pulled my hair. It's been a long day for Gandy. Long enough for her to start talking in the third person, and that's saying something.

I also found out something pretty revolutionary. I thought this whole time it's been odd how Mufasa disappears suddenly everytime there's a Sheryl Crow concert. Well last night I finally found out the reason. I went to Micky D's with Mufasa and our sister who has yet to be named, and the song 'Every Day is a Winding Road' came on the radio. That's when Mufasa finally told us the truth. He has been the writer and singer behind the name Sheryl Crow. He found a fabulous voice changer in the toy section of a Wal-Mart, and it led to the greatness that is, now that you know, 'her'. (Do apostrophes go on the outside or the inside in a case like this? 'her.' or 'her'. or maybe even h'er'.) So the wonderful lyrics like 'I'm a little bit closer....I'm a little bit closer...to feeling fiiiiiiiiiine' are actually Mufasa. You can tell writing runs in the family.

lx -- love from the baby who tried to eat my face off.

Well I think I'll end this blog with a quote from my illustrious father, that I really think applies towards myself and my siblings as well:

"I know why I'm so crazy. It's because of the Earth's rotation.

Damn orbit."

I've been feeling dull as a coathanger.

I haven't written anything in awhile. Mainly because, surprisingly enough, not much has happened. Still, it being the new year and all, perhaps I should. Mostly because I don't like you. And I know that though this causes my own eyes to bleed, it causes your head to explode, and is therefore justified.

I asked my brother, named Mufasa Yoshihashimoto, what I should blog about, and he said, "Your charger's really warm." But he's still pulling thorns out of his face from going sledding face-first into a marsh, so I'm not sure his brain is unaddled yet.

Maybe I could think of a resolution. I could promise I'm going to eat nothing but cinnamon. I could promise that I'll read only words with the letter n in them. I could say I'll only carry things that weigh less than your face. I could swear I'll only watch movies or TV shows that Lucy Lawless is in. (But really, that's kind of a given, so it wouldn't be much of a resolution.)

Mufasa just made an abacus with one ring. You can tell he learned how to count in Wisconsin.

Someday, I will climb Mount Fuji. Until then, I will try not to kick the cows. But once I climb Fuji...yeah, those cows better watch out. Then Gandy will be without constraint! One teacher I had kept calling it 'Mount Fuji-yama.' Always made me laugh. Made me think of calling the sun 'Sun sol sun.' Maybe I will from now on. Sorta has a nice ring to it anyway.

Have you ever drank Sobe? Good stuff. Mufasa and I just drank some, and underneath Mufasa's cap it simply said, 'THE EYES.' :o How delightfully chilling. Mine said 'You're gonna have to trust me behrooz.' When I first saw it I said "?" Now looking at it, I say "?" So now I will leave it up to you, the reader. All -23 of you. What does this meeean??

Hopefully I will have something of more interest later. In the meantime I'll end this work of art with another cliche. Expect the unexpected. Especially eyes.