AHH, I'VE TOTALLY BEEN NEGLECTING THIS BLOG!!

However, I'm quite certain I'm still meeting this week's deadline of TWO BLOGS. What does Miss Feick think she's doing by being so demanding? (just kidding, don't fail me...).

Now, here's the tricky part-- what should I blog about!?

Well, I suppose I could tell you how I've begun to dread the weekends. It all started when I got my new job at E.J's Tavern Restaurant. Firstly, I'd like to know just WHO this E.J is. Could it be this man, whom I found when searching "E.J" in google?

I certainly hope not. Not only am I begged to ask the question why this man is wearing a hood with antennas on it, but I also have to ask myself... Would I trust this man with my life? The answers to these questions are quite simple, really. He's clearly on several different psychedelic drugs, and HELL NO!   


Ah, forgive me, for I've gotten quite off topic. 
Let's continue with the original story, shall we?


It was only a matter of minutes before I realized how much I loathe my job. At first when my boss told me I would be working only twice a week, I was thrilled. I honestly doubt I could handle any more shifts than two a week. However, those two shifts are on Saturday and Sunday EVERY week, and that is why I hate weekends. Honestly, my job sucks. I'm a dishwasher, and it's rather disgusting. Especially the "grease trap". What's that you ask? Well, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that it's this thing that is full of this odd substance that smells and looks like vomit... And I'm suppose to clean it out every Sunday. Luckily, I've actually been able to convince both cooks both weeks I've worked that there's no way in hell I'm going near the grease trap. It's worked pretty nice on account of the fact that both weeks the cooks cleaned it out as I laughed at them vomited in the sink.


And that's my story.


Fascinating, isn't it? 


Now, I know this blog is a little short right now, so I'm going to drop some KNOWLEDGE on you ('cause knowledge is POWER!!).


First, let me start by asking what you think the word PRESTIGIOUS means. Now, let me tell you that you would be correct to assume that it means "distinguished" or "of high reputation", but would you like to know what it used to mean when the word was first being used in the 1940's? Perhaps you don't... But I'm most definitely still going to tell you.


The word prestigious originally means to be "full of tricks", or "deceitful".

My theory on why the word was changed to mean something very opposite is that of one without the KNOWLEDGE. I'll admit that sometimes I use words I don't completely understand the meaning of, and I'll also add that doing so is incredibly stupid. Mostly because you end up looking stupid if you use the word in the wrong context. Anyways, my theory is that someone of high status used the word prestigious in the wrong context and it merely "caught on". Kind of like slang, I suppose. 

The moral is: DON'T USE WORDS YOU DON'T FULLY KNOW THE MEANING OF.... and also: READ THE DICTIONARY, PUNK!

That is all.

OH HAI THUR.

That's "lol speak" in case you didn't know. I took this Writer's Craft course beause I don't feel like I'm very creative when it comes to writing (in fact, I actually like writing essays more than creative writing) and I wanted Miss Feick's aid in honing my skills... Kind of like a Ninja... Yeah, you should probably just call me a writing Ninja. Another Ninja in this craft that I admire is Alan Moore. He writes some nice comics like the Watchmen, V For Vendetta and Batman... Only the best really... This is what he looks like:

               Respectable looking, no?...

Yeah, this is the genius behind it all... Notice the plate of cookies and the cup of tea he was clearly enjoying before being interrupted for this picture. You can't diss tea time.

Anyways, other than Alan Moore, I also enjoy reading Laurie Halse Anderson. And by that I mean I read one of her books and I approve of it. That's good enough, really. (on a side note, I started reading one of her other books, so it really is acceptable for me to say that I enjoy her writing.)

Let's move onto the next bit of information Miss Feick says I need to provide in this post. Next year I plan to embark on my future with my best friend in the great and glorious city of Toronto, Ontario. Granted, we probably won't make enough money to live anywhere other than a car, and what I plan to persue will probably end up kicking me in the face. By that I mean I'm going off to study acting and I know how difficult it is to actually succeed in such a profession, so I'm quite certain I'll be going to teacher's college afterwards so I can actually, y'know, survive on a steady income.

And lastly, the thing that keeps me from sleeping in bed all day is my mother. Loving and caring that she is, she's terrifying sometimes. However, its not terrifying like "ahh, she's going to rip my head off if I don't get up!" its more like she's just very good at acting disappointed, and I absolutely hate that. So, that is why I go to school every morning. Oh, and because I want good grades and stuff... (I would say "so that I can have a good future", but I already told you I'm aiming for a pretty dead-end job).

Alright, so I've answered all that needed to be answered, and that's really all I feel like writing right now. I should probably sign off with some sort of cheesy line that will make you want to puke once you read it like... "Stay tuned for more!" or "Thanks for reading, love you guyss!!" but I'm really just not going to.