Stupid Video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZZ7oFKsKzY
I'm just past one tenth of watching this and it's all background noise now.

I'm also reading the comments. They are my true amusement.

Comments:
I've got this running in the background while playing modern warfare 2 ITS AWESOME!!! everyone TRY IT!!

listened for 2 hours before i had to go to bed...the real world sounds way less exciting now.

i'm 6 hours in. #Winning

challenge accepted

Does he ever get to where he is going?

I can feel my brain oozing out of my ear...

Still better than Twilight

____━*━____━━____━__*___━_*__­­__┓­­­━╭━━━━╮
___*_━━____━━____━━*____━━____­­┗┓­­­|::::::^━━^
____━━____━*━____━━____━━*____­­━┗­­­|:::::|｡◕‿‿­­­­◕｡|
____*━___━━_*___━━____*━━____*­­━━­­­╰O-O—-O-O ..

Chuck Norris listens to this 10 times in one day

This is how the CIA softens prisoners for interrogation.

АААААААААААААААААААААААААААААА­ААААААААААААААААА

what idiot actually watched this for 10 hrs??

How on earth did a video this long get more than 18,000,000 views?!!

i slept while listening to this i woke up gay....

Pisec!

omg worst headache now

Some one give me a gun please
 /̵͇̿̿/’̿­’̿ ̿ ̿̿ Here you go

Can someone make a 10000 hour version? I'm tired of hitting the replay button.

is nyan cat a pop tart?

WHAT DRUG IS THIS ???????????

112 nyans en 30 segundos, vamos a hacer los cálculos si? 112 x 2 = 224 (nyans por minuto), 224 x 60 = 13.440 (nyans por hora), 13440 x 10 = 134.400, lo que significa que el gato nyan dice 134400 nyans en 10 horas...!!

Where can i download it for my ipod? :D

lol i remember the day i fell asleep while listening to this song.
i had the weirdest dream ever: Zeus came down in a rainbow chariot shaped like a pop-tart and i ate him and i got his powers and after that i threw up sprinkles.
that dream scared the sh*t out of me O_o

ڪے

Video Games

The funny thing is that games really do effect kids. For a whole week and a half, I've been playing a driving game. An old, 8-bit driving game with a joystick. Pole-Position. The best game I have ever played in a long time. I started spending every spare period at school playing this game. After a while, I became really good at it. Really good.

When playing, you have to rotate the joystick to turn the car, and that is how you steer. It was soon after a week of playing the game that I noticed myself twisting my phone while my mom was driving in order to get out of the way from the cars. Even though this happened, I still kept playing.

Then, after a week and a half of my spare time spent playing Pole-Position, I was walking down the street, and I noticed my hand twisting every time someone walked passed me while I was walking. I was steering myself using an invisible joystick.

The sad part of all this, is that I will not stop playing. The little side effect of me twisting my arm and steering my moms car with my phone is so worth the little crappy graphics driving game.

Evelina Children's Hospital Window Washers

I saw this and I thought it was inspiring. The window washers of the Evelina Children's Hospital dress up as superheros at work so that when the kids look out the window, they see superheros cleaning the windows. Thought it was quite inspirational.

I also heard they do the same thing at retirement homes. Except they dress up as old ghosts and try to freak out the elderly.

Taking a Break

I'm going to take a break from blogging about just myself, and post about someone else. This guy I know was in a fitness course last year, and the marking system went as follows:

• 50% of your final mark is based on attendance and effort.
• 20% of your final mark is based on homework completion and assignments.
• 30% of your final mark is based on your summative assignment.

Pretty straight forward, as any individual would think. The complete opposite was the truth; the average in the course was a 68% and the guy I knew had 94%. That mark is very exceptional in a course with an average of 68%.

My friend kept telling the story of how he did so well in the course, and how he was so strong, and so on. He kept telling it until someone asked him if that was the best mark in the class. He went silent. That probably wasn't the best question to ask him.

It turns out, that was the worst question to ask him:

"No, it wasn't the best mark. Do you want to know who got the best mark? The damn cripple. You know why he got the best mark? Because he showed up a little more than I did, and he worked hard on the assignments and did his homework every time. Do you want to know his mark? He got a 95. 95. One mark more than me because he showed up a little more and didn't miss his homework a couple times."

I feel sorry for the guy. In a course full of weight lifting and getting active, the guy with a broken leg got a better mark. Only because he showed up more. Moral is: don't skip.

Bad Grammar

When you have a friend who's grammar is so horrible that your eyes burn at the sight of them messaging you, you have to correct it. Most people will just correct the grammar and go on. I can't do that. Their grammar is so horrible, sometimes I don't even know what they meant. It feels like you're talking to someone who is speaking a different language. It's even worse when you're trying to be nice to them, because you don't want to ruin their day by telling them communication is spelled with two "m"s instead of one.
I spent one week putting up with the grammar mistakes, correcting them in my mind in an attempt to keep myself sane. Then, I decided the horrible grammar had to stop when they used the wrong use of the word "to". I jumped in and gave them a quick grammar lesson.

• Two: a number. "You have two feet"
• Too: replaces the words "also" and displays "in excess". "That's too weird. I like that too"
• To: THE ONE USED FOR EVERYTHING ELSE. "I went to my house today"

Immediately I apologized, telling them that I don't appreciate simple mistakes like that. Those kinds of mistakes bother me, eat at my insides, and rot my brain. Despite all that, they still kept talking to me.

A few days later, I said something to another friend, and they corrected my grammar. I really wanted to cry.

Play With My Fish

A lot of my viewers would come to my blog for one purpose only: to play with the fish at the bottom of the screen. When I made the blog, I started playing around with the tools and while playing around, I put these fish on my blog. While converting to the blog style with the super colorful background to the one I have now, the fish stayed. A while back, I checked my views on my blog and the amount of views on my posts. 13% of the views are actually reading my blog posts, and the other 87% are just scrolling down to the bottom to play with the fish. What's the point in even blogging? All it's doing is making it take slightly longer to scroll to the bottom of the page to play with the fish. Not what I wanted my blog to be used for.

I started this blog as an assignment, and it became fun to post blogs. When I started getting tons of views every day, I was excited. People were actually reading my blogs, and they liked them. Then I didn't post anything for a week. One week went, and people were still viewing my page. As I learned more about blogger, I realized that I could see how many times people read my blogs. I was excited to see which blog got the most views. That wasn't at all what I saw.

I saw that people went to my page, but didn't read any of my blogs. To do that, they either stayed at the top of the page and hit refresh over and over again (which wouldn't be that much fun) or went multiple times to play with the fish. I am just assuming when I say that they only go to play with the fish, but who would sit there on my blog page and hit refresh over and over again?

So thank you viewers. Thank you for playing with my fish and not reading my blogs. It means a lot to me.

Here are some people talking to me about my blog fish:

The Ultimate Battle

Yesterday, I was doing my regular business in my room (in my giant cardboard box mansion) and I saw an earwig. If anyone doesn't know this, I am a girl when it comes to bugs in my house. Actually, girls are more brave when it comes to bugs. I freaked out. I saw it walking, and I froze. It didn't know I was there, and I needed to act on it and kill it. But I couldn't kill it. I don't like earwigs. I called for my mom but she didn't respond. This was going to be the most epic battle of all time.

My girlish bravery vs. Earwig
Spoiler alert, the earwig wins.

I ran to the bathroom and I grabbed some toilet paper to grab the earwig. One small problem: IT WAS GONE.

I stood up on the highest point in my room and surveyed the area. I was now a bug ninja and I was going to catch that bug. I saw it walking around on one of the corners of my room. I was going to grow the courage to catch this stupid bug.

I ran over to it and looked at it for a while. I then grabbed the bug through the toilet paper quickly, and then danced girlishly to my garbage pail and threw out the toilet paper. The earwig fell out from the toilet paper and he just laid there. I did it. I actually killed a bug, and I was going to sleep at night without the fear of bugs crawling inside me and having babies in my lungs.

I woke up this morning still proud of the fact that I killed the most creepy creature of all time. I went on through my regular routine and I went to check the garbage bin to view my victory. The earwig was gone. It was demanding a rematch.

"I stand down, I stand down!"

McDonald's

Every day for the last two weeks, I have been going to McDonald's with a friend so that we would win more McDonald's. Since it is a one in four chance of winning, the more we show up to buy something, the more we will win (in our messed up logic). Right after we ordered, we put our stickers on the Monopoly board, and we realized we had all three green stickers on the board. We were so excited because that meant we were going to get a car. We celebrated by eating our McDonald's and we noticed we were running late. We said we would keep the board safe so we could get our car later, and we went off. We started calling everyone we knew, saying we won the car in McDonald's Monopoly, and we kept looking at the board, fantasizing about our new car. We kept calling people as we walked back, and we started making deals: when we could use the car, who would it stay with and when, etc. After we called everyone who would have cared, we couldn't believe it, we won the car. It was worth it, all the money we have spent at McDonald's, all the time waiting in line, how bad all the McDonald's was for us, all the times we were late because we were eating McDonald's, for today. We were going to be late for our class after lunch, but we won a car! We started reading the rules on how to earn your winnings. It was all straight forward. You have to be over eighteen to collect your winnings, and you have to answer a math question to get it. We were having a little party walking down the street, congratulating ourselves for winning a car because we went to McDonald's every day. Then I took one last look at the board before we put it in our locker so no one could take it. I saw one of the board places twice. We put the sticker in the wrong place, so we didn't win the car. We called everybody again, telling them we didn't actually win the car, and we apologized for the false alarm. We walked slowly into our classes, heads hung low, with the reason we walked in late was because we almost won a car.

I hate cars now.

Too Much Information

For those who don't know what MSIP is, it is a class where you have one hour to work on school work. You can also use travel passes to travel to other rooms in the school. The library is one of them. One of the things that the library asks you to do is to put a specific goal at the bottom of your travel pass. They give you room for five words, so I left it blank. The librarian didn't like that. She came up to me while I was working and said I needed to fill that part out for next time.

Instead, I wrote a word document containing 1 600 words and stapled it onto my travel pass.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/15c5fDlXJJEgrLbkfLQGAKwNtbBqxbdxreF5vx3mK7HM/edit


Her reaction to seeing this essay was priceless. I watched as she read it. Her initial reaction was confusion: Why is there a 3 paged essay attached to this travel pass? As she read it she started to laugh at it. Then she started writing on it. What in the world would she be writing on my essay?

When I first wrote it, I thought she would say something like "that's too much, write less for your specific goal." Then after I saw her reading it and writing on in, I thought she would be correcting my grammar. Here's what she wrote instead:

Well... that's a lot of goals! I Hope Robot unicorn Attack won't take too long. Ah, facebook, the scourge of a generation.

And I even got a gold star sticker attached to my essay.

My Bus Driver

When I take the bus home (to my cardboard box), I am forced to take two buses. On the first bus, I have a different bus driver every time. But on the second bus, I used to have the same bus driver look at me with the death stare. Like this:

Now most people would say "OOH LOOK AT THAT CUTE LITTLE DOG!" But trust me, it is so creepy when you get on a bus and see this:

Yes, it is an exaggeration, but she looked at me like that. So I went on for one month, having to see the bus driver give me the stare every time I got in her bus. I had no clue why she looked at me like that. She would smile at everyone else, but as soon as she saw me walk in, I got the death stare. I started watching my every move on the bus. I could not notice anything wrong with what I did on the bus. Was my music too loud? No. Were my feet up on the chairs? Nope. There was absolutely nothing wrong with what I was doing.

After trying to find out what was wrong with the bus ride for 30 minutes every day, I found myself at home. I read over every single rule:

1.      Be respectful of others.
I don't talk to anyone on the bus, and whenever there is an elderly person on the bus I get up and let them sit in my spot.

2.      Do not play music for others.
I can barely hear my own music over all the chatter.

3.      No feet on the seats.
There's never a seat to put my feet up on, and when there is, I never put it up.

4.      No skateboarding on the bus.
I don't have a skateboard.

For one month, I just could not figure it out. I was at the end of my rope, reading over the rules twice every time, and making sure I was following them, but she still looked at me like the angry dog.

After one month, she was replaced. This lady smiled at me like how she smiled at everyone else. Immediately, I loved it. Here's the catch: There was nothing to do for that 30 minutes where I would normally try figuring out why the angry bus driver looked at me weird. I missed the old bus driver.

With my feet up on one of the seats and listening to my loud Goth metal music, I cried inside. There was nothing to do on the bus for that half an hour.