semi annual blog post? yes, okay.

i'm just so sorry. after many persistent text messages, death threats, and complaints about my lack of posting on this gem of a blog, i've decided to throw in a semi-annual blog post. since tests are over for about 39 hours, i have some time to throw in some sass and maybe some inspiration. in the same post? doesn't that cancel them out? oh, math. you slay me. i'm about 4 months rusty, so pardon. sorry about it.

some look-alikes. you are welcome.

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see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

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i can't really say that i've embarrassed myself to mi$$ bo$$'s potential this summer besides the usual snarting, falling in public, and confusing myself up with my little in pi phi who is oddly identical.

school is going well. i have teachers who climb on tables and crawl like babies (exhibit a)

so i can't really complain to much. i also have this bushel of love that sits in front of me every tuesday and thursday and it takes every ounce of me to not touch.

as for my last class, chemistry 2, my teacher is obsessed with second life. she physically cannot get enough chemistry in her first life, she had to create an interactive sims computer avatar game for us to meet with her for study sessions on sunday at 5 pm. oh wait, more than study sessions. she hosts beach parties and halloween parties that she announces in class. i had to create an avatar, so hit up Abby Nordenskoild whenever you join the second life. she wears a plaid skirt. recently, she had a hurricane hit the second life island in order for us to learn how to handle natural disasters. sorry, i haven't been on since i had to get my quiz grade by taking a snapshot by her class room. second life feels borderline illegal in all 50 states. just saying. i'm 99% sure she was late to class because she was so wiped out from partying so hard in her second life.

i still miss harold pan. every. single. day.

AH.

i am so sorry about it. it's been test week. life's been crazy out the ying yang. please excuse. a good post will come. i hope you are still alive. school makes time to sass difficult. who needs an education anyway?

ps - my chemistry test just raped me, thanks for asking.

babies.

i just want to take a moment to say that sorry i have been so boring. it is solely due to the fact that i have the newfound power to not fully embarrass myself in public. like, what? where did this come from? i mean, i'm not complaining, but le blog is le sacrificing. you win some, you lose some i guess.

1) where have yogurt covered pretzels been all my life? i feel like i'm having similar effects as to when you give cocaine to a baby. which i don't know the outcome. i'm a little scared for my life.

2) i've been sober of diet dr. pepper for exactly 9 months. i could have had a 23 flavor baby by now. sorry for the baby references.

3) i would give my left arm and my first born child for a diet dr. pepper right now.

4) who is lele and what did i do to have to buy her some new hair?

people these days.

le vom.

now that i am healed from the vom-bonic plague, i can post without believing toxic germs will camp out on my keyboard. also, now that i'm not sleeping 87% of my day.

to start off right, totally look alikes.

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i never knew whether to be completely blown away or completely uneasy when i saw animal shaped fried foods as a child. art or factory made "shrimp"?

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..that wasn't ellen page in legally blonde? so much for me winning scene it. i had my hopes high.

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if you're going to be on a channel with furry creepy noise making creatures, you might as well look like one too, right?

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down right wrong and hilarious. and pouty lip face overload. my nausea is coming back.

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as seen on tv AND totally look alike? it's like my blog in a picture. wall-e is a bonus.

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again with the food looking like mythical creatures.

sans rants.

since i am sass and rants all the time, i figured maybe i should take a break and include what i am actually up to lately. i am back at school at texas a&m, and buuuusy. hence the inconsistency of posting. which i am truly sorry about. no sass intended. ugh, okay this is boring. my life is boring sass and rant is back. we'll talk about other observations on campus. and other things that are in my brain that i can't flesh out into full blog posts.

1) what is up with just slapping a huge bow on the side of your head and calling it precious? like, no. my two and a half year old niece wears them and she dances that fine line of it being precious and outgrowing it. it's lame. you look dumb. it makes your head look tilted and heavy on one side.

2) don't wear rain boots when it's not raining. or when it's not even in the forecast. or when it's AUGUST in texas.

3) my kine 213 professor makes me want to wet my pants every class. he has about 7 hairs on his head and i'm tempted to pull one out for my voodoo doll. don't take that seriously. the second half of that, at least. i think i love him a little.

4) as seen on tv came up at dinner tonight. i was the most informed and could explain the most about each product that was brought up. touche, blog, touche.

5) what the FLOP is in meatloaf anyways? rhetorical. i just want you to sit on that for a while.

whaaaaat astv is BACK.

astv is back like victor garber. seriously, he is in 28% of the movies i watch ranging from the years of 1991 - 2010. he has aged none. titanic. legally blonde. if it's wrong to say he is attractive, i don't want to be right. i feel like that is borderline illegal in all fifty states. woooomp.

and WHAT?! imdb said he was in ONE episode of glee! this man is the new hitler. minus the violence and communism stuff. and the mustache. okay, now he's not like hitler at all. ugh. whatever.

why am i even talking about him again? anyways, AS SEEN ON TV! whatever, you know you have missed it.

wait, oh my gosh i need this. refer to the post regarding how someone opened and drank my coffee creamer. why didn't i think to buy this hamster cage with a security lock to hide my food in? ugh, billy mays' evil twin with an australian accent, you never let me down. put a real life bear in my kitchen and my food being taken would not be my main concern. who does this man think he is? suck on that, bearsicle.

why is removing lint just such a pain? sorry, i never realized it was. ps was the person in the brown blazer a girl or boy? i really question these commercials.

just like i'm not going to put a rotating blade to my hair like the flow-bee, i'm not going to put a rotating brush by my eye. you can roll it with your own finger. this isn't a problem. also, who smiles while putting on mascara? i know i look like a surprised baby troll doll when i apply mascara. which is about once a month.

or, just learn from this lady.

i'm all for ending on this high of a note.

fail friday.

let's get physical. i should find this man for my flexibility test in my kinesiology class.

fin. happy weekend.

creamer. no thank you.

i am almost 9 months sober of diet dr. pepper. if you know me, this is a huge deal. i would chain drink diet dr. pepper out the ying yang. since then, i switched to coffee to maintain my caffeine levels. although, i drink more fat free vanilla coffee mate creamer with a splash of coffee in it. if that's wrong, i don't want to be right.

so, this post will sound so divalicious that you might vomit. i bought a liter size (no joke.) thing of creamer last night and put it in the pi phi house's community fridge with my name on it, blah blah. pi phi's, you know where this is going. and no, i don't want to hear "welcome to living in the pi phi house." it was expected. anyways, i digress. i come downstairs, get my creamer and unscrew the lid to undo the far too difficult plastic pull-top lid. what happens? the lid is already gone. and so is about a quarter of my coffee creamer. i don't feel like doing mental gymnastics of how much creamer that is via metric system or whatever, but it's a lot. and i'm leaving it at that. everyone knows i'm not the tiniest girl on the planet. they should know i can punch their left molar out if i wanted to. they should know not to mess with my creamer. not just take some, but have the audacity to OPEN it (ps - it takes me about 5 minutes to get those, so thanks, kind of. not really.) and take some. it's like, here let me give them nine thousand hints that i took a little (and by a little i mean a good quart) of creamer. fat free creamer that i used my allowance for. the allowance that leaves me living on 30 cents for about 4 days out of the month. wamp wamp. so, dear pi phi that chose the most obvious creamer to take, you have guts. you had pi phi love and mine. kind of.

but then again, it is reassuring to know somebody else drinks as much, if not more, creamer in my coffee as i do. touche.

and i miss harold pan. ugh. kick me while i'm down.

inspiration.

everyone needs inspiration on a tuesday, which is the worst day of the week. let's be real, your adrenaline from monday is gone and you are even more tired, yet there is still no friday in sight. a terrible abyss.

do everything in dependence on Him. the desire to act independently springs from the root of pride. self-sufficiency is subtle, insinuating its way into your thoughts and actions without your realizing it. apart from Him, you can do nothing: that is, nothing of eternal value. His deepest desire for you is that you learn to depend on Him in every situation. He moves heaven and earth to accomplish this purpose, but you must collaborate with Him in this training. teaching you would be simple if He negated your free will or overwhelmed you with His presence. however, He loves you too much to withdraw the godlike privilege He has bestowed on you as His image-bearer. use your freedom wisely, by relying on Him constantly. thus you enjoy His presence and His peace.

john 15:5, ephesians 6:10, gensis 1:26-27

sorry. about. it. part 8.

recruitment is over. i can leave these four walls and be surrounded by testosterone and not 50 girls again. boom, roasted. sorry about causing withdrawals and not giving entertainment while at work/at class/laying in bed. my heart is truly breaking for you. almost. but then i remember about how i was smiling for 4 days straight. in heels. size 12 heels.

we will come back on a high note.

1) someone from MOSCOW viewed my blog. okay, sweet. i'm going international. potential predator? whatever, it's moscow. if that's wrong, i don't want to be right. they have computers there?

2) i have successfully managed to not embarrass myself these past two weeks. sorry to not come back with embarrassing stories.

3) i'm too tall for the beds and showers here at the sorority house. ugh, i hate being a yeti sasquatch troll thing. i initially squatted in the shower to wash my hair, then had sore quads for three days. i then resorted to a sort of lunge, but that doesn't work out ideally either. i'm hoping to be able to do a backbend by the end of this year.

4) i'm back. did i mention that? okay.

womp.

sorry. i have like, zero time right now. but HEY thanks for being a champ and not punching me in the mouth in my sleep for it. buuuuut i have a little time for a mediocre things to tide you over for the next week.

bad lyrics time. HOOODY HOOOOOO.

preface: had a huge dance party last night. 90's style. so, we are doing terrible 90's music. brace yourself. so stallion.

everybody - backstreet boys

am i original? yeah. am i the only one? yeah. am i sexual? yeah.

are you making me want to vomit? yeah. do i wish i was with harold pan right now? yeah.

in english, you learn about rhetorical questions and repetition for effect. if you didn't, womp. backstreet boys missed both of those attempts. still love you though, nick carter.

i'm too sexy - right said fred

i'm too sexy for my shirt, love, body, etc.

whoever likes this song has some internal issues they need to work out. right said fred creepily whispers all of the things he is too sexy for, which makes me borderline uncomfortable.

ketchup song - las ketchup

i'm banging my head on a wall right now. i forgot how terrible this song was. english or spanish. ketchup or mustard. potato or po-tat-oe.

heaven - los lonely boys

there aren't really too terrible of lyrics in this song, but it is the reasons babies cry at night.

sorry about it, part two.

sorority stuff. posting restarts in two weeks. SORRY ABOUT IT.

friday.

ugh, i hate how funny i think this is. i'm terrible.

ash sheen on teevee.

astv. a-a-a-a-a (that is for you, ags.)

how dramatic are these divas? seriously. these "problems" are really not that much of an inconvenience. an example of an inconvenience is me not being able to see harold pan daily.

my dog may be a demonseed, but i know for a fact that not every dog is going to sit there like that and have a chainsaw come at it's fingers.

bonus round: if you can tell me what accent the lady had at 1:10, you win my love.

i rest my case. ps, my kind of woman. i'd saw my dog's nose off too. no quiero pedipaws.

waahahahaha. i have a feeling that an armband that holds knifes, screwdrivers, and other murder weapons is borderline illegal in all 50 states. but, billy mays, i miss you and you were so good to me.

i know i have already shared this gem before, but i just added it for emphasis because my roommate has this and it WILL be in our room next year, if you wish to use it.

"you cut, rip, and tear." what is the first thing that comes to mind? paper? a muscle? abby's dignity? if you answered "brownies," you just lost a wad of respect in my book. it's the little things. add a snowman cookie cutter on top and we are no longer friends.

goulet.

things i'm bad at.

today, i got contacts. hey, cool, i've joined the other 79% of our population. i don't think you were as bad at putting them in as i was, though. seriously, poor lady was like, you need to grab your eye lid. can you do that? you're not doing that. what did i say before? grab. your. lid. OKAY I WAS BORN WITH TINY TROLL EYES AND KNUBBY TROLL THUMBS. I'M WORKING ON IT. i'm a rookie here, compadre. 57 minutes later, i got them in. and had to take them out. and put them back in. i think i'm blind from it. i'd also rather be set on fire than touch my eyeball. seriously, it's gross. what sucks is the fact that i have to take them out in 90 minutes. can i not just live in them? i don't know if i can get them in again. i was legitimately trying to put them in and i asked the lady "did i get it?" and she goes "you dropped it about 3 minutes ago." well, neat. thanks for testing me.

then i started thinking, what else am i terribly terrible at? since i'm semi-blinded by scratching my eyes with my troll thumbs, this is going to be short, but i know you know how terrible i am at plenty of things.

zumba.

wahahaha, AM I BAD AT ZUMBA. i shimmy in all the wrong directions, and kick at all the wrong times. it's ha-lar-i-ous. it's like i have latin tourettes or something. ole. i was also the girl in the nutcracker that was about 2 counts ahead and jerking her arms everywhere. not my thang, goulet.

snarting.

done and done.

handling slightly awkward situations.

i should get a dollar every time i made a mi$$ bo$$ reference.

handling my obsession with harold pan.

i should get a dollar for this as well. i'm having HP withdrawals. i have to constantly thing, WWHPD? the answer: southwest airlines.

brushing my teeth with my right hand.

it's physically impossible. i should looking like i have manic rabies. might be from that dog bite from when i was a child. things i would pay money to see: myself brush my teeth while at zumba class. life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride.

inspiration 5.

stop judging and evaluating yourself, for this is not your role. above all, stop comparing yourself with other people. this produces feelings of pride or inferiority; sometimes, a mixture of both. He leads each of His children along a path that is uniquely tailor-made for him or her. comparing is not only wrong; it is also meaningless.

don't look for affirmation in the wrong places: your own evaluations, or those of other people. the only source of real affirmation is His unconditional Love. many people perceive Him as a judge, angrily searching out their faults and failures. nothing could be farther from the truth. He died for your sins, so that He may clothe you in His garments of salvation. this is how He sees you: radiant in His robe of righteousness. when He disciplines you, it is never in anger or disgust; it is to prepare you for face-to-face fellowship with Him throughout all eternity. immerse yourself in His loving presence. be receptive to His affirmation, which flows continually from the throne of grace.

luke 6:37, john 3:16-17, isaiah 61:10, proverbs 3:11-12

baaaack.

well, sorry about it. i'm back from my soul/culture searching eat, pray, love trip. you are welcome. sorry to have you so deprived. but, here i am, and there you are. let's go.

today is going to be a day of reminiscing. it is a day that i will go through all of the various career paths that i wanted to take growing up. some of them, realistic. most of them, not. i will let you decide which is which. so, recap: cracked out life plans. ready, ale. (go in creole. yep. still in that phase of convincing myself that i will be bilingual.)

a dog.

this is not a drill. i wanted to be a dog for a long time. they can pee wherever they want, and sleep a lot. i'm not saying i do that now, but i'm not not saying i do that now. and if that's wrong, i don't want to be right. and i love getting rubbed and scratched. dogs have the best life ever. and they chase cats. what a beautiful thing.

limited too model.

i thought limited too was going to last forever. and that i would wear their glitter logo tshirts for forever and a day. i think i owned those purple sunglasses, and always rocked them with a bucket hat. hey, sweet.

a singer.

once upon a time, i was in a singing and preforming group called "star struck." we wore red sequined jackets (like above) and top hats and sang a song called "welcome back" and "king of new york." i was convinced i was going to be a singer, on broadway, and famous. all while wearing my purple sunglasses and bucket hat. quite a great career path, if you ask me.

stand up comedian.

i would still be totally fine doing this as a living and making no money and making people laugh their brains out by telling my embarrassing but far too true stories. and that's that.

rapper.

because everyone goes through that phase where they are a little culturally confused. just me? alright.

things are more realistic now. physical therapist, blah blah, work with kids in other countries, nurse, blah blah. granted, my life plans change every 79 seconds, but that's alright.

the faces of snookie.

i'm out of town. traveling. "gap year", if you will. i'm soul searching, culture searching, and everything in between. kidding, i'm really just in dallas for a few days seeing friends that i won't see until the world ends in 2012. so, have some totally look alikes tide you over until i return.

snookie, you look like so many mythical creatures. personally, i think your mug shot is the most flattering, but that's just an opinion.

i lol-ed ALL OVER MYSELF from this one. probably because i used to make this face whenever i'd turn around in 8th grade like the girl in scary movie 3.

jersey shore is like the gift that never quits giving.

things i hope my kids don't inherit.

as stated many times, i'm embarrassing and painfully awkward at times. i say a ton of embarrassing things or people miss my humor a little bit. and if that's wrong, i don't want to be right. although, there are quite a few things about my i pray that my kids don't inherit.

1) my ability to word vomit everywhere.

mi$$ bo$$. okay. if that doesn't give you a good idea, bless your heart. i hope that my kids have the ability to split a soap dispenser over two sinks. or just handle a person with terrifying tattoos. or just have a conversation in general. i'll teach them that while they are still in the womb. it is on the priority list.

2) my ability to burp on command.

it's nasty. and is a reason i'm still single, most likely. plus the dog bites, but that is neither here nor there.

3) my coordination.

i'm convinced that my few years of being left handed and then changing totally messed with my cerebellum. add a size twelve foot and throw me in a dark room and i'll have the power to knock over absolutely everything within 5 minutes.

4) my inability to stay home alone.

i hope they don't inherit this for my sake.

5) my inability to control my bladder.

i seriously still do not have this together. i also have no problem in saying that if you make me laugh hard enough, i will piddle myself just a little. it's like being pregnant and sneezing, it just happens. what are the most inconvenient places this has happened? oh, you know, just in the customs line at the airport, at a movie theater (this one was terrible. my friend's mom had to bring me shorts and i changed in a photo booth. i was 16. ugh.), in class, anywhere that is a public establishment, it goes on.

6) my obsession with harold pan.

it's really not healthy.

well, i hope my kids don't inherit this. and i hope you aren't judging too much. vulnerability + interweb = bold statement. simple math. then again, i should find a man first. i'm ahead of myself. well, shoot.

diznef.

that's nineteen in creole. because that's what i am today. i've finally caught up to everyone else on the planet. and thank you for your happy birthdays! you are all such blessings.

sentimental things aside, let's get some sass up in here.

nineteen years of life, nineteen embarrassing things that happened roughly around each age. this also shows why i am who i am today. deep and emotional. goulet.

age: 1 = i was born. awkwardness was procreated. i was naked 80% of the time. i pooped my pants. (this does not only happen at age one, for the record. brace yourself.) i drooled incessantly.

age: 2 = i started walking. walking is crucial for any clumsy moment i've had for the past 19 years.

age: 3 = i was bitten in the face by a dog while i was pretending to eat it's food. this is still my safety reason as to why i am still single.

age: 4 = i was enrolled in school. i cried every second for my mother to come pick me up. clearly, i am an i-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t individual. i also wet my pants at least once a week. you think i would have had this together by now. at least i was a cute son of a gun. minus the dog bite on my face. and bowl cut.

age: 5 = repeat age 4. stir well.

age: 6 = i was bitten by the same dog. again. in the lip. now i have a busted cheek and had the appearance of a cleft lip. luckily this was fixed. why am i single again? can't quite put my finger on it.

7, 8, 9, really don't matter. because 7 ate 9. ha.

age: 10 = i cut my own bangs. some people go through the haircutting age at 3 years old, but i'm a late bloomer. i had constant trendalls hanging around my forehead. faaancy.

age: 11 = i went to middle school. and fit right in with all of the other awkwardness.

age: 12 = i have literally forgotten this year. all i remember is where my locker was.

age: 13 = i was the self-proclaimed middle school bad a. i ran the school, honestly. i also wore a bridesmaid's dress to the 8th grade formal. hey, cooooool. it went up to my collar bone. and was periwinkle.

age: 14 = i survived my first year of high school. i played varsity basketball, and then exploded in softball. life of a champion. i also swallowed my ring in geography class and my teacher continued to ask me every single day if i got it back. pardon, not my teacher, for she was "not a teacher, but a geographer." last time i checked you were sitting in a high school classroom, but pardon if i'm confused.

age: 15 = driver's permit. life came close to ending far too many times for my driver's education teachers.

age: 16 = i figured out what a hair straightener was and said farewell to the afro. and got a car.

age: 17 = senior year. life. was. good. i did as little as possible. i harrassed mr. cooms (honeycooms, tecoomseh, kelli evans) until the second i left the classroom and learned absolutely nothing.

age: 18 = i went to college. survived school. pledged pi phi. completely wiped out in the chapter room. went to haiti. had my life changed.

age: 19 = nothing embarrassing yet. it's only been a few hours. did i mention how much i hate the number 19 because of my ocd? okay, neat.

the life of abby white. glad you're a part of it.

ps - describing my physical malling made me out to look like quasimoto. i'm normal. promise. ish.

fail friday, finally.

i've been terrible lately. sorry about it. not really. i've been sleeping a lot. and kind of being social. the second part is just a little false. first part, totally.

fail friday. let's go.

wahahahah. he harold pan-ed that boy.

happy weekend. until monday. maybe. i like to keep you on the edge of your seat. all 5 of you.

heroes (heros? shoot.) of the summer.

i don't know if its heros or heroes and i truly couldn't care less. i could google it if i want to, but it's already 8:30 and i haven't posted today and people are getting ancy. keep your pants on. regardless, (oh harold pan, the transitional phrases you have provided me.) here go some hero(e)s i've met this summer.

harold pan.

i know for a fact 89% of you all guessed this person. seriously, harold has changed my life. he taught me to never not fly southwest airlines and never not go to chase bank. i can safely say that he has changed most of your lives too. harold pan is the reasons babies don't cry at night, the reason the sun shines a little brighter, and the reason i go to speech class at 4 in the afternoon.

johanne.

if i haven't had the incredible pleasure of introducing you to johanne, let me do so. johanne was also in my summer school speech class and took it far too seriously. and sentence the teacher said she would listen to vicariously and always give an "uh huh" and the end of a phrase. she also gave an informative speech about trans fat and how dna and rna produce protein, whereas i, being the overachiever, reused my college admissions essay about my trip to frontier ranch. for her persuasive speech, she gave a speech about the prisoners at guantanamo bay. what are you trying to persuade me to do johanne, not go to cuba? congratulations. i also had to do a partner speech with her as to why rock and roll was better than rap and she said don't stop believing 27 different kinds of wrong.

i also had sue sylvester check me out at the grocery store. my life is better than yours for this sole reason. i can go back to college station now. summer is complete.

3 small people, 3 huge impacts for bettering my quality of life. and abdominals.

terryclothin' it.

no post tuesday. sorry to break your heart. then again, i am here now, so pick your battles.

today, you will hear about my embarrassing story. believe it or not, i embarrassed myself this morning. i know this rarely happens due to my rico suave personality and i live life relatively smoothly, so seize the moment. look, i'll stop lying and jump to humilation.

this morning, i took a shower. it was a wednesday, so i was obligated to take my bi-weekly rinse off to get me through saturday. i was frantically trying to get ready for a lunch at 1145, so i was running around and frolicking throughout my house in my towel. as i was already sweating from this (shocker.) i realized "oh heeeeeeeck nah i haven't had my coffee yet." so then i frantically start to make my coffee. and then i realize "oh heeeeeck nah my coffee thermos is in my car." mind you, i'm still in my terrycloth ensemble. i think to myself, "it'll be fine, i'm just running to my car and i live on a kuldesac, no one will see me." ha. so here i am, running to my car, and of course THE GARBAGE MAN IS WALKING TO THE BACK OF OUR HOUSE TO GET OUR TRASH. sounds like his lucky day. although, i'm 67% sure he vomited in the trash can once he passed me, because i had mascara running down my face like mufasa or a crack addict and a towel on, while sweating. good morning to you, sir. also keep in mind i am painfully awkward, so of course i have to say something. so "oh gosh, hi. i'm just getting my coffee cup, but i just got out of the shower and didn't have time to get dressed to get it" comes catapulting out of my mouth.

1) how do i not have time to get dressed? get yourself together, ab.

2) why didn't i just walk back inside?

3) WHY DID I TALK TO HIM?

you give me legitimate solutions, i give you legitimate love.

this story was not as funny as i anticipating look back. not as funny as when i sneezed and farted during the taks test. or played handbells when i was 7. or farted on national television during a somersault. or had my pants rip from top of bottom during school. you win some, you lose some. for me, i lose all the time.

inspiration 4.

understanding will never bring you peace. that's why He has instructed you to trust in Him, not in your understanding. human beings have a voracious appetite for trying to figure things out, in order to gain a sense of mastery over their lives. but the world presents you with an endless series of problems. as soon as you master one set, another pops up to challenge you. the relief you had anticipated is short lived. soon your mind is gearing up again: searching for understanding (mastery), instead of seeking Him (your Master).

His peace is not an elusive goal, hidden at the center of some complicated maze. actually, you are always enveloped in peace, which is inherent in His presence. as you look to Him, you gain awareness of this precious peace.

proverbs 3:5-6, romans 5:1, 2 thessalonians 3:16

fail friday.

it's that time.

ouch.

bad lyrics, part two.

oh poor music lyrics, you are so good to me.

ps sorry for not posting this week. 1) i'm going to bed at 830 every night recovering from my trip and 2) i can't get my mind off my trip and i want to go back to haiti, so sass takes a backseat. sorry about it.

love the way you lie - eminem

this song is the tory burch knockoff of "airplanes." throw in a verse of rap, then slow singing. really. except that eminem is sorry compared to b.o.b. what does b.o.b. even stand for? box of bums. bunks on beds. bops on brains. something like that. but, anyways.

"now you get to watch her leave out the window, guess that's why they call it window pane."

this pun/play on words is just about as good as my high school economics teacher's. the man that hits you with his belly when he walks by and says "excuse you." talk about a fun sucker. pane/pain. it hurts my soul. come on, skittle boy. m&m. see? my jokes are better. i'll just stand there and watch you burn. but it's alright because you like the way it hurts.

sk8r boi - avril lavigne

that hurt my fingers just to type. an 8 should never be in a word.

"he was a boy, she was a girl, can i make it any more obvious?"

no. human anatomy is as obvious as it gets. but thanks for offering to help. sorry a-boot it.

all the things i've done - the killers

"i've got soul but i'm not a soldier."

not only is this lyric dumb, but it gets dumber all 500 times he says it. repetition for effect? repetition for nausea. it's kind of like saying i've got bills but i'm not a billfold. i've got cheese, but i'm not a cheesegrater. you tell me how much sense that makes.

ironic - alanis morrisette

"it's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife, isn't is ironic, don't you think? it's like rain on your wedding day, it's a free ride when you've already paid."

clearly alanis didn't take english class. she didn't learn the true definition of irony.

i·ro·ny

¹    [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-] Show IPA

–noun, plural -nies.

1.

the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite ofits literal meaning: the irony of her reply, “How nice!” whenI said I had to work all weekend.

2.

Literature .

a.

a technique of indicating, as through character or plotdevelopment, an intention or attitude opposite to thatwhich is actually or ostensibly stated.

b.

(esp. in contemporary writing) a manner of organizing awork so as to give full expression to contradictory orcomplementary impulses, attitudes, etc., esp. as ameans of indicating detachment from a subject, theme,or emotion.

3.

Socratic irony.

4.

dramatic irony.

5.

an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might havebeen, expected.

6.

the incongruity of this.

7.

an objectively sardonic style of speech or writing.

8.

an objectively or humorously sardonic utterance, disposition,quality, etc.

that's not irony, alanis. that's just a "your life sucks" moment. if it rains on my wedding day, i wouldn't say "look at this irony!" i would say "look at this rain. this sucks." oh man, i have ten thousand spoons. but all i need is a knife. so ironic. hah.

my first kiss - 3oh!3 and ke$ha

first off, too many symbols within the name. again, fingers are burning. oh, the things i do for my 4 readers.

"my first kiss went a little like this, smoooooch and twist."

take notes, because this is the two step formula. maybe now that i know this, i'll magically get a boyfriend. (if you took that seriously, i will punch you in the mouth, because you do not know me at all. ha. me in a relationship makes me laugh out loud a little bit.)

take me back to haiti.