Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Weird dreams: Part 3 - "Star Wars and another I don't know how to call it"

Ok, last night I dreamt that I auditioned for a character in a new Star Wars video game... And I got it! The character's name was Kitty and she has a Russian accent. My costume was awesome and so was the paint and make-up! Wheeeeeeww!!!!

So it was a really cool dream... but not all my dreams are like that. I had another dream that, first of all, let me just say that the dream was really weird not only for what I'm about to tell and describe, but because I was like Ranma 1/2 (I was a man at the beginning of the dream, and then a woman at the end). Also, if you aren't really good with blood and stuff, then you probably shouldn't read it... AT ALL!!! (and for the same reason I'm not going to draw anything today... sorry!!!)

So, I (as a man) was in a whole underground, one of those tunnels that go all the way from a safehouse to another place and so on.
I was crawling my way to somewhere, and I see a frame that's hung on one of the walls (HOW on earth do you hang a frame on soil? no idea, but it was there). I take it down, and open it, and I find a map hidden in the inside.

I go back and crawl back to surface, and I head towards a restaurant that was in the desert. Apparently, THAT was our "secret hide-out" (also, apparently we were part of a kind of Colombian FBI or something). So I head towards the backroom (you know, where the high shots are usually playing cards or something), and there's my boss and his wing man. I give them the frame and map, and turns out the map had the secret location for all the crops of the bad guys.
We also find a watch on one of the corners of the frame, so my boss takes it and gives it to me. He tells me to try it on to see how it looks (yeah, REAL smart! wear the evidence of an important case JUST to see how it frikin' looks on you), but he was my boss, so I went along (and I'm a woman now).

Then, as we are talking about deciding where to start with the map, a music (and kinda gay music too) begins to play on the watch (like if it was your phone's alarm or something), and I try to make it stop, but it won't.

And then... it hit us... IT WAS A TRACKING DEVICE!!!! DUN DUN DUUUUUN!!!!!
So I take it off very quickly and throw it away, as we head towards the front of the restaurant, asking all the guards if they've seen anyone lurking around. And then, LOTS AND LOTS OF MEN jump through the windows and start punching people (our FBI people) around.
Then they start checking for the mark of the watch on people's wrists (apparently they have super senses to see who wore the watch).
They grab a woman standing beside me, and they go like "oh, THIS is her! she wore it!". And then I go like "NO! Leave her alone! It was ME!!! I wore it!!!" (always trying to be a hero).

So they throw her away and then grab me. They hold my wrist and put it on a table. Then I see a guy with a butcher knife heading towards me, and I think "this is it... I am soooo dead".
So they hold me down, while making my hand still on the table. The guy with the butcher knife finally comes up and says something stupid and cliché like "prepare to die" or something like that.
And......... HE CUTS MY HAND OFF!!!! HE FRIKIN' CUTS MY HAND OFF!!!! I'm in pain, and crying, and screaming, and then I realize he didn't do his freaking job right!!! My hand was still partially clinging on!!!!! THE PAAAAIN!!!! So, by now, I am just asking him to finish the job, to cut it right, and he starts chopping it off like when you slice a tomato, that you swing the knife back and forth... but this wasn't a tomato... IT WAS MY HAAAAND!!!!
He FINALLY finishes, and all the blood starts coming out, spraying people around like a bad japanese movie. So now I'm asking for mercy: cauterize my arm, PLEAAASE!!!!

And then I woke up... Fun dream, huh? ;(

Friday, June 24, 2011

Weird dreams: Part 2 - "Zombies, babies in boxes, Walmart, Dragon Ball"

Most of my weird dreams involve zombies... No idea why. And this one is no exception.

I dreamed that a zombie had bitten my leg, but before my life would come to it's inevitable death and I would reanimate as a zombie, I had a quest to finish (too much Final Fantasy...): I would have to work alongside with another girl who had also been bitten, to try to save some babies that they had left behind in Walmart (nooooo idea why, but we just had to save 'em before we turned into zombies).

So we began our journey into the streets filled with zombies.

For no apparent reason, Walmart had NOT been overflowed with zombies and people were still inside, but the only way in was through the roof. So my new friend and I began to climb the metal stairs, and when we reached the top we cut them loose (with what because they were made of metal? No idea...) so the zombies wouldn't be able to follow.

We went inside, and people were just chilling, shopping, relaxing, like nothing had happened "Apocalypse? What? No! Yo' crazy girl!!!". So we began to walk "normal", like we weren't already bitten by zombies and were just about to turn on them to eat their flesh. And then one of the "How may I help you?" vest guys came up to us and we were like "we're fiiiiine... just looking, 'kay? THANKS!".
We turned around and head towards were they told us the babies would be at: the REFRIGERATORS!

NOW is the time where you just KNOW something is WRONG with my head... Why would there be babies hidden in the Walmart refrigerators during a zombie apocalypse? I have no freaking idea... My mind... It's crazy.... PERIOD.

So, anyways, we head towards the frozen entries, and we spot a suspicious box inside one of the refrigerators. We open the door and then the box and.... DUN DUN DUUUUUUN!!!!!! It's empty!!! It is freaking EMPTY!!! They lied to us!!!!!!!











*


*


*the butterfly represents sanity... 

And then we lose control and we start attacking people 'cause we just turned into zombies and...

INTRO OF DARKNESS!!!!

My dream stops and then another one begins.

I respawn (still bitten, but not yet turned into one of 'em) but I am outside of Banamex (a bank). Turns out that Banamex was in fact the zombie's headquarters, and a friend of mine says that I should go inside and kill all the zombies and then destroy their base. Why me you ask? Because I had already been bitten and, according to his logic, they wouldn't attack me because I would eventually turn into one of them, and I had already began to smell like them (like that tv show "The Walking Dead", that they would use zombie blood and organs to cover themselves up and smell like 'em so they would be confused and not want to eat them? Yeah, that way!). So he reassured me that I was going to be fine, that I shouldn't worry about being attacked (just worry about turning to a zombie, thou).

Still, I am not convinced and I argue "I can't kill all the zombies!!! It's not like a video game!!! And I don't even have guns!!! What if they all gang bang on me? Huh? What will I do then? HUH?!?!?" and he says (you guys are gonna loooove this part): "That's easy! The best way to attack them is by singing the Dragon Ball theme song. Do you know it?" and then he starts humming the song. Crazy.

So, by no apparent reason, THAT convinces me that I will be fine, and I go inside and start singing the Dragon Ball theme song... And what do know? It works... It freaking works. No zombie attack whatsoever!!!

And then I woke up.


THE END!!!

Monday, June 20, 2011

My mind... it's crazy

Be advised. People who are not "PG-13" or people who are sensitive or easily offended should probably not read this... 'Kay? Good!


I am a weird person. My mind does not work as it should... I have a few good arguments to prove my point:

1) I always think about the worst possible outcome of things, or bad stuff happening to people, honestly. For example, every time I'm driving and I see a person riding a bike close to my car, I think about what would happen if I opened my door... ALWAYS. But I never do it ('cause I know it would probably physically hurt the person).

I've talked to my friends and apparently they NEVER think about that (yeah, right); it's just me... crazy ol' me.

I'm not a bad person (or at least I don't think about myself that way), because I never do the things that my evil mind tells me to do----well, there was this ONE time when I did: a couple of people were leaning on a friend's car, and I had his keys, so I pressed the "PANIC" button and the alarm went off and the people jumped in surprise and confusion, and I went like "oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know what that button did!" and I gave my friend his keys back.... Does that make me a bad person? Because I thought it was hilarious!!!!!!

2) I have a little bit of road-rage... I always say weird things to the other not-so-smart-because-you-don't-know-what-the-green-light-means-car-drivers stuff like "YOU SUCK! And you know what you suck? Dick. That's what you suck. You suck dick. And you enjoy it. And you're not even gay, so that's making you feel weird and confused right now." (No offense to the gay community. I don't mean it like that... It's just funny for me to say it to awful drivers... We cool?............ AWESOME!!! HIGH FIVE!!!).
Is that bad? In my defense, they can't hear me. When I have a misunderstanding with people, I never EVER say anything to them, 'cause I'm a good person and I don't want to hurt their feelings. But still, I'm really worried that my mind is not working the way it's supposed to work.

3) I talk to myself, OUT LOUD, wherever I am. Be it in my office, my house, my car, parties, in the super market... I don't care. But apparently people DO care because they always stare at me, specially if I'm talking in a Russian accent (thanks Call of Duty: Black Ops).

4) I sing and act... Glee songs... while I'm driving (which some people consider to be dangerous, but I disagree... I'm careful and always look both ways, and wear my seat-belt).
Other drivers always stare at me. I guess they're saying that I look stupid and crazy, probably retarded, but I don't care. I rather think that they're saying "Wow! She looks like a professional singer. She looks like she is SO dedicated to her job, that she's even doing her rehearsal in her car! I am lucky to be one of the few who is actually seeing her perform. I am speechless." And it makes my day :)

5) Every time I'm alone ('cause I live with three other people) and there's no one to cook, I don't cook anything... ANYTHING. I know how to cook, but I never do it if I'm alone... I'm too lazy. I eat like a homeless person: water, bread, cheese... and cookies. You should see me buying food for myself. This is what my cart looks like:


That's: bread, lactose-free milk ('cause my hobo stomach is weak and it can't take the real thing), cheese, ham, cookies, toilet paper, paper towels (yes, not napkins... paper towels are bigger and cheaper), and tuna. Forgive me for not drawing every single one of my items, but you get the point.

6) I'm afraid of clowns. People like them, but not me, nah-ah. Oh no. I am teeeerrified. If I see a clown, I'd be like "GET ME OUTTA HERE, RIGHT NOW!"


HOW are you NOT scared by THAT? Clowns are evil!!! Did you not see "IT"? The movie? Well, if you haven't.... DON'T!!!!!! Honestly, every person who's seen it (as a kid) is afraid of clowns.

Mimes are the worst. If I see a mime, I will start crying. Seriously. There was this one time that I went to a wedding, and for no apparent or LOGICAL reason, the bride and groom decided to hire not one, but TWO mimes to keep the people entertained.




My reaction? Cry every single time the mimes would come close to the table where I was sitting. Thankfully, a friend of mine noticed my eminent terror and fear of mimes, and took me safely away from them to the dance floor. (8) It's murder on the dance floooooor, but you better kill the mimes, hey hey, it's murder on the dance floooor, but you better run away, dj, gonna burn this goddamn wedding right down (8).

7) I have OCD. Yes. HOW can a person like ME have it? NO IDEA! I just do. Every time I leave my house, I have to make sure the door is locked, and I check it over and over again, until my weird brain says enough. I also triple check my alarm. I have to live in a SPOTLESS, CLEAN, SPARKLING house, and everything has to be in the same exact place. I know when somebody has been in my room, I can tell: I know the exact distance and place of every single one of my things. And my clothes? Organized in type (shirts, dresses, jeans) and color (black, then white, then brown, then yellow, then green, then blue, then purple, then pink, then orange, and finally red). Yes. I am crazy.

I'm weird. Period. I am strange and bizarre. Nothing you can do about it...

Does that make me a bad person? What do you guys think?

Monday, June 13, 2011

Weird dreams: Part 1 - "Zombies and Superheroes"

As you may now come to know, I'm not what society considers as "normal". And part of the awesomeness of not being normal, is that you don't have normal dreams.
People dream about their job, about their family and friends, about what they really want, or maybe that they're flying and stuff. But not me.

I usually dream about vampires, and zombies, and aliens, and explosions and weirdness, withOUT watching a horror movie before I go to bed.


Here is one of the weirdest dreams I've had. And no, I don't do sugar, or caffeine, or alcohol or drugs or whatever. These dreams are the work of my "normal" brain, while it's asleep :)


Turns out we were locked in a hotel room with no light. We were about 20 people, a group with the few survivors of the ZOMBIE ATTACK!!!! (Dun dun duuuuun!!!!!!).

And, as a typical movie, you have the old couple, the party dudes, the tough guy, and the lady who's all concerned about everybody.

Suddenly, we hear a knock on our door.
 - Open up! - a woman screams.

We all look at each other thinking "should we open the door or not?", and then the old lady goes on her own and decides to open the door. BIG MISTAKE, MRS OLD LADY!!!! A group of zombies is trying to come in with the woman, and now we're all trying to push the door back.
Then, the tough guy throws away the mattress, and takes the bed platform to put it on the door. Now we're all holding the bed platform against the door, but the zombies seem to be SUPER zombies 'cause they're all strong and we can't take it. So, PANIC!

In that moment, the party dudes find a way out: a storage garage that magically appeared on the other side of the room. BUT, one of us has to stay behind to keep the zombies distracted. So the old man, realizing the huge mistake his wife did, decides to be hero and stay.
Nobody argues and now we're all running towards the magical storage garage.

And suddenly, DUN DUN! The zombies break through the wall and attack our group, but a smaller group makes it out to a hallway, which also appears magically to save us.

So we run all the way to the elevator (power is up again) and we get inside (just four of us now), and then a cheerleader (whaaaaat---?) appears, trying to get into the elevator too, begging us to hold the door for her. So now, I'M the one trying to be hero by clicking the button to leave the door open until she gets inside.

Now, EVERYONE is clicking the button to shut the door!!! *click* *click* *click* *click* *click*. The elevator shuts the door just before the zombies get inside.

We are safe.

 - Now what do we do? - asks our newest party member.

So I click the emergency stop button, and everybody stares at me thinking "WHY DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!?!?"
And I explain that we should have a plan before we reach the lower level, because, think about it: it is very VERY probable that there are zombies in each floor.

FLASH FORWARD to something else 'cause I really don't remember what happened in between. I think that my dream just pressed the forward button as well.

Now we're opening the elevator's doors with our hands ('cause the power's out again...), and as I had guessed it: ZOMBIES! So we start shooting at them (we got guns now!), and then the zombies bite the cheerleader and another one of the group.

And now it's just three of us: my kid brother, another guy and me.

The three of us run towards a market as we try to figure out what to do if we run into more zombies.
Suddenly, I spot an old refrigerator. I open the door, and it's empty. And my logic is: big refrigerator = metal walls = safe!
But there's not enough room for all three of us (sorry other guy, but my kid brother is more important and I'm too young to die!), so I put my brother inside, and I follow. And then...

IRONMAN!!! Ironman gets there and stops the door.

 - Why are you hidding? I told you I was going to protect you guys! I didn't get paid for nothin'! - says our hero.

So Ironman rescues us, and we go flying with him! *swooooosh*.

But there are still lots of zombies on the area, and Ironman can't shoot them all while flying with two people. And then SPIDERMAN gets here! (And I don't know why, 'cause I really HATE Spiderman...  I'm more of a DC girl... SUPERMAN FTW!!!).

So Ironman hands us over to Spiderman. Ironman turns away from us and bids farewell as he continues to fight the zombies to save the world *epic music please*, and we swing away from all the infected area.



THE END!!!!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The one about the worst feeling ever: cardboard

One of the weird things about me (other than ADHD and OCD) is that I get annoyed or scared of things that I really shouldn't.

Take cardboard boxes for example. Just writing the word "cardboard" gives me the chills... LITERALLY. I'm not saying it like "oh, yeah, I don't like cardboard or all the cool stuff you can do with it" because cardboard is actually pretty awesome and you can really make A LOT of things out of it (or with it).

You use them to pack old stuff, or when you're moving, or when you want to put some stuff away for the season, or when you just bought a small dog and you haven't got the time to buy a bed or house for your new pet so you just put newspapers and VOILĂ€: a brand new house for your pet.

And THAT'S why I hate cardboards the most. Because I CAN'T FREAKING USE THEM!!
They are actually really cool and useful, but I can't even stand close to them when someone is grabbing one. Why?........ IT GIVES ME THE FUCKING GOOSEBUMPS!!!!

You know how some people get the chills or goosebumps every time someone scratches the blackboard?




Well, I get the SAME feeling every time someone holds/grabs/touches a cardboard.




And the worst part is that it doesn't even have to be on purpose or a strong grasp or something. It can be the slightest touch that will make me flinch.




I hate it!!! I really can't stand it!!! Even thinking and writing about it just now, gives me the chills.

Whenever I've had to move (and I've moved like fourteen times in the past six years), I'd just put all my clothes on the car, just like that... no packing no nothing!

Of course, people would see me and think "Oh, poor girl, she's too poor to buy cardboard boxes. Maybe that's why she's moving, because she's too poor to pay for rent." And then they would always offer to help me out by giving me some of their old cardboard boxes, and I usually don't have any trouble saying "Fuck no! I rather be set on fire and eaten by a unicorn (because they are magical and can eat stuff on fire), and then be pooped out with a rainbow on my forehead (SOOO magical, they wouldn't have to chew me) than hold a cardboard box".

But sometimes, just sometimes (and with MY luck, it's almost every time) a friend will offer his or her help, and then I'm stuck because I can never say "no" to a friend, even if they ask me to take care of their pet who is a veggie and can only live inside because it also happens to have asthma, so no outdoors for it, even thou I live in a really small house with three other people, and it's also a freaking Beethoven (like the movie) who poops the size of my own dog, Chatis, and they don't leave any food or money for me to buy their special and expensive veggie gay-dog food, nor explain how on earth I'm supposed to clean up their mess without a special broom or grenade launcher or poop-disappearing-magic-laser thingy.

I have good self-esteem and all, but I also want people to like me (specially my friends, which is wrong, because if they really are my friends, that means that they already like me), so I hardly ever (never) say "no" to whatever stupid or crazy or mind blowing request they may have.

And THAT gets me stuck with "Thank you so much for offering your help! Bring all the boxes you can and we'll finish even faster!" and then I'll start thinking WHY, OH, WHY DID YOU SAY BRING ALL THE BOXES YOU CAN!?!??! YOU'RE GOING TO DIEEEEEE!!!!



And I never do, but sometimes I wish I did so I wouldn't have to get all annoyed with the feeling of cardboard boxes... it freaking sucks.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The one where I save a new born Petey Piranha (well, kinda)

I was working on tomorrow's blog, but I just had to post this one up first because of what happened today.... We have a new pet plant!!!!

If you have ever played videogames in your life, I'm sure you've played a Mario Bros game before, and surely you've seen the piranha plants coming from a pipe:






Later on, another type of piranha plant was introduced, and it had legs and somewhat a kind of hair, maybe? I don't know, but it's called Petey Piranha:





Well, those things really do exists in our life, like wild and exotic plants that lay still awaiting their pray, hunting, ready to strike at any moment! Kind of like a ninja, hidden in the darkness, just about to shuriken to death a pirate.
Anyway, turns out that piranha plants (not those exactly, but you get my point) ALSO come from water pipes!!!!

I live in a small house (two semi rooms, one bathroom) with three people, and we all take turns in doing the dishes.
Our house might be small, but the kitchen is what really makes up for the lack of rooms to sleep in: it's really big, with lots of closets and space to cook in, and it also happens to have two sinks joined together.
The thing is, we only use ONE of the sinks to wash the dishes in. The other one has a sink tray where we put all the clean dishes so they can dry off on their own, and we rarely (ok, never) remove it to clean underneath.

Today was my brother's turn to do the dishes, but before he could do them, I would have to clear the area and make room for the new dishes by putting the dry ones back to their places.

So I did...

I was just about to finish, when I dropped a knife below the sink tray, so I picked it up and the knife wasn't the only thing in there.
There was a plant, A PLANT!!!!! Growing from beneath our pipe!!!!!! See?:



I asked my brother if they've dropped some sort of food or something because I couldn't tell what it was at first, until I got closer and took a better look at it.
And to our surprise, it was this tiny cute little bean, growing beneath our sink's pipe!!!

Sure, to some of you, this might look gross and all, but you should see it in person.... it is sooooo adorable!!! We decided to take it out of there, and put it somewhere else, so it could REALLY grow healthy.

So, we grabbed a glass, put down a couple of damped cotton balls, and then placed little John (yeah, I named it John) in his new home :)



THE END!!!!!!!!

P.S.- I'll try to upload another blog tomorrow.

UPDATE: Remember I found little baby John on my water pipe? Well, since we put him in his new home, he's gotten taller!!! Look:

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

The one with cats vs dogs

So, I was talking with my brother and his girlfriend about what kind of pets are better for people according to age, social status, hobbies and so on.

I honestly prefer dogs, even thou you have to clean up after them and they get sick pretty easily, and you have to give them lots of shots, and give them baths, and buy them all kinds of toys because even the smallest dog will bite off the head of its plushy, and you also have to hide all your stuff like shoelaces and rugs, and paper bags.......... I think I kinda forgot my point.

POINT: Cats... (meh).

Anyway, I digress.

WHY do I prefer dogs? 'Cuz they give you all the love they have, unconditionally and willingly (I know it sounds corny, but it's true). 

POINT: Dogs!

I have a little chihuahua, that -SIDE NOTE: jumps really really high-, and every time I come home from an exhausted day at work, she greets me by jumping really high and letting her head show on the door's window:








Until I finally open the door and she starts running around, trying to get me to play with her. This dog, "Chatis", is not an ordinary dog: she has the body of Pincher, and the head of a Chihuahua. 


So, yes, she looks really weird and people are usually scared of her when they see her because they think she's ugly and retarded or something, when she's not (well, not completely... she just doesn't know how to land after she jumps, so she ends up hitting herself really hard on the floor).




As I was saying above, I prefer dogs because even if you have had a really bad day, they can always find a way to cheer you up (especially if you have a jumping chihuahua/pincher that hits herself really loud and makes you pee a little bit because you are laughing too hard).

POINT: Dogs!!

Unlike dogs, cats only like you when they need something from you, be it food, water or a bed to sleep on.


And that's not the worst part. Turns out that my brother told me that whenever cats cuddle and caress your feet, it's not because they're saying "Oh, I love this human so much! Let's be friends!". What they are really doing is impregnating you with their scent so OTHER cats can smell you and know that YOU'RE their pet!

Not so cute now, huh?
 
And besides, cats are more the lonely type. They don't need to play with you, or sit beside you on the couch while you watch tv, or welcome you when you get home.




See? Kitties make you cry; call it allergies or hatred, STILL makes you cry.

Cats, again, only need food, water, and time to hunt.


A couple of years ago, we had this cat, whom we didn't even name 'cuz you can't name a cat---

Ok, I'm gonna stop here and say something else because it's another good point of why I prefer dogs over cats.


You can't name a cat, seriously, you can't! It's either "Mittens", "Fluffy", "Mandu" (like Katmandu), "Pussy" (which can lead to inappropriate conversations with your neighbors), or another variation of those names.

With dogs it's way easier, and you can even name them with a human name, 'cuz dogs are more awesome and actually have a personality of their own; so you could try "Steve":



"Spots":


"Spike":

"Sam":
"Max":


or even "Conan":


Like "Conan the Barbarian"? I think it's an awesome name for a small dog.


POINT: Dogs!!!

So, back to the story, because this blog is getting loooong!

We had this nameless cat, who wanted to show us that he was a hunter and we shouldn't mess with him because he could kills us, just like he did with a poor bird who didn't saw it coming:




With that point well made, I think you will all agree that dogs are better. Because dogs actually kill to protect your house. I can't imagine a poor defenseless bird trying to take us down:



Dogs are smarter, and know what they're doing, like Chatis:


Chatis protects our house from evil cockroaches filled with germs! AAAAND, not only does she kill them, but she also pees on their corpses.


POINT: Dogs!!!!


So, taking all these points, I believe that dogs are better. But don't take my word for it, just look at the score board:
Hands down. 



UPDATE: Ok... I HAVE to give one more point to cats because of this:





It's the new baby cat my dad adopted... It's really cute and cool looking, isn't it?

Here's a video so you can see it's real and not edited: 



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Easy Win, Flawless Victory Blog by Mariel Garcia is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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