Not too good, I’d say.
Soooooo….
I’m asking for suggestions. Give me something to blog about, I’ll throw my own little spin on it, and we can all see what a mess of it I’ll make. How’s this: You guys leave a suggestion, I’ll choose my favorite five, and then I’ll have you guys vote on it.
I’ll be gone this weekend, so I’ll pick my fav five when I get back sometime early next week! Anything you think of: funny, serious, something challenging, a controversial subject, the secret life of Tigahs, anything! the more people the better, so rec this so it can get around.
Thanks!

One day, I felt both daring and different, so I went for a walk. I came across a sad dreamer, who asked for some change. Although I think myself to be a man of valor to some degree, I replied “I have no pennies, dimes, or nickels..” So I turned away shameless, and continued my walk.
I passed the seed-sowing trees that drop little helicopters on your head. I saw a beautiful lake where fish live.All sorts, too. Girl fish, guy fish, red fish, blue fish, ect. There was a mother of three by the lake, playing with her children and enjoying some tea and gingersnaps.
I turned down an avenue to some real interesting things. I saw a male comedian, who looked like a girl.  There was a big show, like a musical going on about a lady, while waiting for her WWII romance to return, fell into a secret love affair. It seemed the star was made to sing.
I looked at the clock, and seeing it was the forty-fourth hour, figured I should head home.
On my way back, I passed a man with a Greek body (I’m not sure how I know that, but please remember I am a straight guy.) who seemed to be obsessed with Power Rangers. I walked by where my friend, Ed, lives, and I passed the popular religious diner, although they really don’t have much to do about religion, and they ask a lot of questions.
When I returned home, it was on fire! Luckily, an expert team was there to help put it out. And thus ended my walk around the community.

(Will add tags for those of you who are in it. This is just for those on my friends list, so if you want to join in the fun, add me! It’s fun, so if you want to do a post like this, have at it! But don’t forget to put me in it! . Let me know what you think!)

Due to the recent dreadful sunny weather and flash floods and spontaneous combustion, I have decided to change this post to a more pressing matter.

That’s right, the smilies.
If you think about it, is there a closer friend on Xanga? They’re always there to help you better express yourself: you can end a relationship with ,,,, or , or start one with ,,,,, or . You can share a laugh with a friend using ,,,, or . You can yell at someone by ,,, or . You can cry with a loved one along with ,, or . Or, you can just throw them into a random sequece and make it into a secret code between friends, lovers, revolutioaries, or presidents forming secret pacts like , , or even .
If these fine friends are so helpful to use in times of need, laughter, love, war, or hiding from government officials, then please answer me the question: Why can’t you use them on everyone’s site?
I’ll go to wish someone a good day with a smilie, but the little box won’t be there to click on! Why is that? I think this is a rather serious problem that should be adressed wth out delay. Who’s with me!?

Hot tears stream down my face, despite my attempts to make them stop. I slam the door to the upstairs as hard as I can. I clench and unclench my fists while I storm up to my room. His taunts follow me up, echoing all around me, adding fuel to the fire. “Why?” I ask bitterly. “Why does it have to be me?” When I pass the little door to the attic near the top of the stairs, I channel my anger into my left fist and punch the small window of the door, causing the plexiglass to cave in and fall to the attic floor. I would get in trouble for that later, I know. But I don’t care. All that matters right now is getting away from him.
Experiences like this happened more often than not between my older brother and I. I got along just peachy with my other three siblings, but for some reason far beyond my understanding, Justin loved making my life miserable. He wouldn’t hit me much; only if I hit him first. He would use words to abuse me, barraging me with insults, names, and so forth. I actually would have liked it better if we could have just duked it out: then at least I would’ve had a slim chance of beating him. But before any actually “fight” broke out, an adult was there to break us up. How could I win a verbal fight against someone four years older than me? I have no doubt that now I could beat him in a battle of the brains, but when I was only eight, nine, or ten? I didn’t have the intellect to know how to insult someone who seemed to have everything he wanted. So, what I lacked for mentally, I tried to make up for physically. Violence was the only weapon I could think of to use, and it didn’t mix well with my temper. Every time Justin would say a little insult to try to get something going, I would threaten him, full ready to back it up. That always made him laugh. (Oh, how I hated his laugh!) His little brother insulting him? The almighty Justin!? Ha!
Then I would try to teach him not to laugh at me. I would lunge at him, but he was quick, and he always managed to scamper just out of reach.
And that’s when the adult would walk in. They’d come in, and see me trying to attack my brother, who was obviously just defending himself from this unprovoked onslaught, So the adult, equipped with their infinite wisdom, superior intelligence, and complete fariness, would assess the situation, and judge accordingly, which, much to my disappointment, usually ended in my punishment. (I learned early that not all those in authority are perfect!)
Perhaps you are thinking that, after only reading this for two or three minutes, much of this could have been avoided had I gotten control over my temper and ignored him. I admit that a few situations would have had a different outcome had I not been so hotheaded, but it wasn’t always so. I did learn to ignore him, however he did not stop. And after dealing with what I just explained to you every hour of every day of every week (We went to the same school for his last seven years, so I had to deal with him around the clock.), you would’ve gotten sick of it, too.
That’s why I killed him. No, I’m just kidding, I did not kill my brother, I still love him despite his shortcomings. (After all, we all have them.) I did not tell you all of that to get sympathy from you. I was just describing the greatest trial I have had in my life.(It might seem small to you, but after fifteen years of it, it gets hard.)
My brother’s actions were a trial in my life. Sometimes, even his existence was a trial! Maybe you’ve had bigger problems; maybe you’re life has been relatively easy so far. Either way, we’ve all had trials. But, believe it or not, trials are actually a good thing. Trials are put in your life to help you become a better person. They come custum-fit just for you, so that you can learn something from them. My pastor always says,”After a trial, you will either become better, or bitter.” I have forgiven my brother for how he treated me because now I can look back and realize I would not be the person I am today if I had not gone through that trial. Sure, during the trial I didn’t like it. But I still got through it. I could’ve just caved in and became a wreck. But I got through it. And now that I’m through it, I can be thankful for it, knowing that trial has made me the person I am today. You may get through a trial, but if all you do is complain about it, you will become a bitter and unpleasant person.
In the Bible story of Joseph, his brothers sold him into slavery. But years down the road, he was second in command of the most powerful country, and they were begging him for food. After Joseph told his brothers that it was he, the one they had sold into bondage, that now stood before them, they thought he was going to kill them: but Joseph told them that what they meant for evil, God meant for good.
They basis to my story is this: Instead of complaining about trials and problems that have been in your life, think of how they have helped you become who and what you are today. Then someday, maybe not right away, but someday in the future, you will be able to look back and see how your problems have helped to mold who you are. Then, perhaps you will be able to be thankful for you trials.

10 years ago today, the Columbine High School massacre took place. I won’t go into detail because most of us remember it, and if you want  to read it, Wikipedia does in excellent job describing the awful event.
Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, self-claimed neo-Nazis and faithful followers of Marilyn Manson (Uh, not sure what that has to do with anything, but anyway…) decided to shoot everyone in Columbine High School. When they had killed 12 students and a teacher, they committed suicide.
I just wanted to do a little memorial post for those families that will undoubtedly be remembering today. I don’t understand what would cause two people to do that, but then again, I don’t want to.

I will be unactive over the next few weeks, so when I get back, don’t say you weren’t warned. Maybe if you people came to my sire more, you’d know about these things. (No, I’m not talking to you regulers. If you plan on saying “What are you talking about, I’m always on your site,” don’t, because if you can say that, I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to the people that won’t read this. I know that doesn’t make sense, but neither does yelling “Behind you!” at the dumb blond in horror movies, but we all do it anyway.)
I will do one more post before my state of hibernation, and that will be for the Teen Writing Contest, so when it comes, please rec it. This is the first, and probably the last time I will ask for recs. Even though they deserve it. Like my last one.
Anyway, have a good day.

It’s dark, foggy,and damp. I shiver as a cold breeze passes over my foxhole. I check my rifle. Yep, it’s loaded. I look around. I don’t recognize anyone here, but they’re here, so they must be on my side.
I can hear explosions and guns rattling nearby. I poke my head out of my foxhole, hoping to catch a glimpse of the enemy on the other side of the war grounds, but as soon as my helmet is above the dirt, bullets spray the ground around me. I fall back into the safety of the trench. I stick my gun over the edge of the hole and return fire in the general direction of the enemy, whoever they are.
Suddenly, the firing stops. I hear a metallic thud and look down at me feet. There’s some sort of metal oval laying there. “Haven’t I seen one of those in a movie,” I think to myself. The moment realization hits me, I jump out and roll into the foxhole next to mine. Just as I hit the ground, a loud explosion makes my ears ring.
“That was close, huh?” I look up to see yet another face I don’t recognize. The mystery man sticks his hand out to help me up. I take it. “Yeah, it was. Thanks.”
“No problem,” then he’s gone. I turn my attention back to the foxhole I’m in. It sort of curves to the right. But then, so did the last one. I turn my attention back toward the enemy, although I’m not sure who they are. No one’s ever told me, so I just keep shooting. Hey, they’re shooting at me, so I’ll just keep shooting back! I check the clip in my rifle. Nah, I don’t need to reload, I should be-
Pain. In my leg. I drop to the ground, my eyes close in an attempt to shut out the pain. I’d been shot. I could feel the blood soaking into my pants, the stain spreading quickly. “But, I’m in a foxhole. How could I have been shot. There’s nobody here but allies.” I look around, but I know who did it right away, since there’s nobody here but the mystery man that had just helped me up. Smoke leaks from his gun, whose barrel is still pointed at me. I look at him. Our eyes meet. “Why?” I ask him with my eyes. He lets his rifle drop to his side and grins. I blink away the tears of pain that have started to well up. Suddenly, the foxhole is filled with people. A tie swings in front of my face. I look up. The tie-wearer is offering his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up. The only thought I have as he disappears is oddly,”Any man who wears a tie in a war, must only have one tie to wear.”
I look toward the one who had shot me. Someone much resembling a lion roars into the shooter’s face, and the area around his zipper suddenly darkens. He turns to run, and someone with a cape and only one ear sticks his foot out, tripping the urine-soaked man. I was about to thank these people, when another metallic thud echoes in the foxhole. Again, I hope into the next one, which also curves to the right. I take one of my own grenades and toss it in the general direction the other one had come from. I hear an explosion, and a satisfying grunt. I grin to myself. That’ll teach them. Not wanting to be hit by return fire, I hop int the next foxhole. Seeing nobody here, I continue past the right curve and get into the next foxhole. Only one person occupies this one, and it’s a face I recognize easily. It’s one of the people that had helped me when I was down. They’re leaning against the wall, soaked in blood. “What happened?” I ask.
“A grenade. I wasn’t fast enough.” Odd, I hadn’t heard any explosions since the grenade I had thrown…a few seconds ago. A cold chill goes down my spine as I see that this foxhole, too, curves to the right.
I gulp. “Uh, how, uh, how long ago was this?” I ask, shaking because I already knew the answer.
“Just a few seconds ago, I should be okay…” The rest I don’t hear.
“CEASE FIRE!!! CEASE FIRE!!!” I shoot at the top of my lungs. Would they be able to hear me over the din of the battle. I jump out of the foxhole and rush towards the opposite side, still shouting. Sure enough, I soon reach a foxhole, curving to the right, filled with confused allies. I hear a bang, and feel a stab in my chest. My vision swims. One of the men’s gun had just went off.. “No, you’ve got to stop them,” I say.
“Who?” someone asks.
“Everyone,” I shout over my shoulder as I move on. I’m not sure where I’m headed. I feel dizzy. Unsure of where I’m going. I notice the fog beginning to lift. More stabs of pain hit me, all over my body. I fall to my knees. I can see more of the battleground now. More stabs. I collapse on all fours. An explosion rings in my ears. I can see it all. As I lay down, I gather all my strength, and shout,”Stop! You’re just killing each other! There is no enemy!!!”
But as I take my final breath, I realize the fog of this horrible battle still clouds their minds, and no one in the circle of foxholes had heard me.

Yes, you read the title right. No, I’m not talking about John Wilkes Booth and President Abraham Lincoln; I’m talking about Edwin Booth and Robert Todd Lincoln.
Perhaps you’ve heard this story before (If you click on the link, you have to scroll down a bit to find the story.). I heard about it, but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, so I checked up on it, and sure enough, it happened.
Robert had taken a holiday from Harvard, and he was on his way to Richmond Virginia from New Jersey, with his friend John T. Ford (owner of Ford’s Theatre in Washington). At the train station that night, Robert Lincoln slipped and fell into a space on the train tracks. He was helpless and couldn’t move. Then someone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back onto the platform. When he turned to see who it was, he recognized the face immediately. Edwin Booth was a somewhat famous actor, and although he didn’t know it, he had just saved the president’s son!
It was only a few months later that Edwin’s brother shot President Lincoln at Ford Theater. Some say that knowing he had saved President Lincoln’s son’s life was the only thing that kept Edwin Booth from going insane

I found this to be an interesting thing, and since I don’t have anything more interesting to post, I figured I’d post this. Have a good day!

I’m sure most of you have already heard this story, assuming you are more informed than me, which seems to be the case most times, but I just heard this story on NBC’s Nightly News report tonight, and it made me mad!
Ryan Moats, running back for the Houston Texans, was on his way to a hospital with his wife to see her dying mother. He pulled up to a red light, looked both ways, and when he saw no one coming, he ran the red light. Were he to go back in time, perhaps he would’ve waited it out so as to not waste the next 15 minutes arguing with the cop that saw him.
Officer Robert Powell followed Moats to the hospital, lights and siren blaring the whole way, where the SUV finally stopped. When Mrs. Moats got out, Officer Powell drew his gun and told her to stop. After hesitating for a moment, Tamishia Moats said, “Excuse me, my mom is dying, Do you understand?” Then went inside the hospital.  That’s when Ryan Moats made the mistake of trying to get the officer to understand his mother-in-law was dying.
Over the next 13 minutes, Moats tried unsuccessfully to explain to this obviously think-headed officer that he ran the light because at that very moment, his mother-in-law was knocking on death’s door. But even when a nurse from the hospital came down and explained that Mrs. Moats’ mother was indeed dying, Officer Powell refused to let Ryan go, at one point even informing him that “I can screw you over,” due to his bad attitude.
Finally, Officer Powell gave Moats the ticket, but by then it was too late. 45-year-old Jonetta Collinsworth had already passed.
“He stole a moment away from me that I can never get back.” Mr. Moats told a local radio station.
Officer Powell has been put on paid leave, and his boss has been apologizing ever since the incident.

I personally think that this guy should be fired. Sure, he was doing his job, to a certain extent. You can’t tell me that after 5, much less 13, minutes, he didn’t know why Moats had ran the red light. I mean come on, what did he think; that Moats and his wife were there to hold up the hospital?
Police officers are supposed to protect man’s rights, and I think a man has the right to be at his mother-in-law’s side during her last minutes alive.

What do you think? Was he doing his job, or being a jerk?

Why? Why must I learn about this evil, vile thing? I believe that kids my age are too young to learn about this, plus carry the responsibility of knowing such things. And to think: at other schools, there are kids younger than me learning it already! I mean, I’ve heard of it, but I never thought I’d be learning about it close to the age I am now. They should wait for at least, at least, college to teach this stuff. I mean, sure, I may need it when I’m older, when I might want to settle down, get married, all that jazz, but not now!
By now, all you smarter ones out there have figured out that I am, of course, talking about the dreadful, the infamous, the terrible trio of trigonometry: Tangents, Sines, and Cosines.
I mean, I’m only 16, yet they torture me with these things, and I’m only in pre-trig!!! I haven’t even gotten to     Algebra II yet, and they expect me to retain what I have learned now, only to go from Geometry to Algebra II, where I’ll have to recall all that I had learned in Algebra I, so I can then go from Alebra II to recall all that I’m learning now in actual Trigonometry? How does this make sense? I’ll tell you how: It doesn’t. That makes about as much sense as Michagan beating Clemson yesterday. (Actually, maybe I’d better leave that alone…) Anyway, aren’t the people that come up with school curriculum supposed to be smart? Looks like they forgot kindergarten math; nothing comes between 1 and 2. So why should Geometry/pre-trig come between Algebra I and II?
C’mon people!!!!!!

I hope the rest of you had/have a good day.

I just posted this BENADRYL® Pollen Alert widget for 250 credits. You can earn free credits too!

I have no idea why I want the credits, since I never use them, but I figure why not?

Have a good day.