Boys and Other Atrocities Sent Upon Our Earth

* A post made months ago, so the below feelings are no longer harbored.

You know what sucks? Boys. Boys suck.  They really, really do.

Boys were sent upon our earth to reek havoc within our hearts, and all the while they don't even notice because they are too busy stuffing extra cheesy Doritos in their mouths while playing COD, or even worse carving pumpkins into penises then having the audacity to ask for your flashlight to light the damn thing up.

Yep.  And I still didn't get it back.

Moving on from that statement, I would like to say that even despite their awful, awful ways we still waste our time wondering if he's going to notice our stupid Facebook statuses quoted from silly little love songs or the fact that we straightened our hair so it's like a majestic golden waterfall flowing from our heads.

Nope.

So being "in like' with someone is not easy at all.  You see things were going well.  Then they went downhill.

"Aw, well, what happened?"

HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW. I mean, one second it's "Hey babe, I like you, you like me, we've got chemistry, now let's ride our way around the periodic table of L-O-V-E and let science do the rest."  

Then the next second it's "...." Oh I'm sorry, there's no example for the next second because well, there is no conversacion (yes, that was said in a Spanish accent), no action just the freaking WIND BLOWING THROUGH THE HOLE IN MY HEART.

Ok, see that was an exaggeration. 

Kind of.

I can do better though. I know I can do better, because let's be honest....

.......

......

Alright, so maybe I can't do better.  I mean, after all I am writing a blog about my petty problems.

I mean...this is a completely fictional blog about somebody else's problems, and I'm just the author reiterating the events in first person.

ANYWHO.

The whole situation, with guys and girls, and how we are all supposed to end up together at some point...yeah, I'm not seeing it.  Right now, I want to trip every guy I see. 

As for the other atrocities.

Let's talk about college.

Now, college is awesome, but I mean when I'm having to write an essay everyday I honestly think I should be getting paid my professor's salary since all my professor does is click a button for the powerpoint (the very bright powerpoint located in a dark little room with NO WINDOWS) to burn my corneas.  The least my professor could do is a little dance when she presses the button.

"Anddddddd for the next slide!" *Cha cha cha!*

Maybe even add some instrumentals. And some backup dancers. Preferably boy dancers with the gelled spiky hair and those poofy vests.  *Backstreet's back alright!*

Apparently this is asking too much.

Sigh.

And the cafeteria food here is getting...predictable. 

Day 1: Mmm mm mmm! Look at all this food! Fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and whatever the hell that is in the stew pot!

Day 2: Oh wow! Fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and stew pot stuff!

Day 3: Oh fries, pasta, pizza, salad, and that crap.

Day 4: Disgusting potatoes shredded with no salt, carbs, carbs, dying greenery, and WHAT THE HELL IS THIS.

Day 5: Starvation.



Well, this has been one heck of a blog!  I was able to release thoughts that have been stuck on my mind lately, and I feel good.

*And I'm feeling good! Dum. Dum. Dum. Duh Dum.*

Okay peace my brothas and sistas from other mothas and mistas.

Signing out of this blog like yeah~Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.  

Waffle Brain Syndrome

Sometimes being a super hero isn't easy.

Sometimes it's a pain in the ass.

Sometimes it's tiring.

Sometimes you want someone else to be a super hero.

I wouldn't mind it if you were my super hero for a day.

It could at least get me through the week.

You could pick me up.

I'd probably feel high for a good while.

I'm not in danger.

I just need some saving.

Do you know what I'm saying?

I'm saying that, eventually, I'll need saving from myself.

Because I can't do this on my own.

You know, I'm sick and tired of fighting crime.

When on the other hand, you could be there right by my side.

****************

Nah, the boy has WBS (Waffle Brain Sydrome) So cross that ^ idea off the list.

Let me describe what WBS is.  You take the "W" away and there's your answer.

It's seen in almost every guy.  See, girls can multitask.  I can go out have fun with my friends, get my homework done, and make time to see that guy I like.

Guy's Brain: Football or girl. I'll go with football.

                     Food or girl. Hm. Food.

                     Hey there's the girl I like! Let me go say h- FRIED CHICKEN?! *Goes to chicken

                     (And FINALLY) Oh there's that girl I like, let me go say hi! *Goes to girl

                     

Boys think in sections.  Hence the name "Waffle Brain Syndrome".  Waffles have sections.  The butter and syrup are put into these sections, whereas with us pancakes (girls), all the condiments can chill happily in one big conglomeration of deliciocity.  

Boys are incapable of this and can only focus on one thing at a time.

So for all of you girls out there, that guy is not ignoring you.  He's just mentally impaired.

Unless you're some psycho freak who watches him when he sleeps and picks strands of his hair to perfect that clone experiment you've been testing for several months, then yes - yes he is ignoring you.  Even if your intentions are honest, he's probably putting campus security on speed dial and considering the bald look because of you.  

Well that's all I feel like saying. Time for a nap because fighting the monsters on campus today was pretty draining.

Signing out of this blog like yeah~

Gwen the Super Hero, over and out.

Supahh Fastttt Updattee!

Hey peeps! So I found some old posts I made way back from my first semester of college.  For some reason, I had taken them down (probably because I felt silly/idiotic) but I read them over and realized, "Eh. They're a little stupid, but what the heck!" 


I'll post them in two seconds! Just make note that they are from awhile ago, and that I no longer hold the feelings described in the posts anymore.


*Also, some new posts are in the making! And by "in the making" I mean I'm thinking about them in my brainium hehe....almost all of my posts are written on the spot with little revision. 


Therefore, I'm sorry for the numerous grammatical air-errs. 


Small joke, small joke. (I know, I'm a loser)


Alright, peace brothers and sistas from other mothas and mistas.


Signing out of this blog like yeah~
Gwen the Super Hero, over and out