This is my idea to solve the obesity problem everyone won't stop bitching about.Big post today. First off: CLOVERFIELD IN FOUR DAYS!! Secondly...well, there is no second, I just wanted to type "first off".
Last Thank-Darwin-It's-Friday, I went to Cy-Fair Community College to change my Intro to Philosophy teacher from some Shaw character, to the Houston's very own paintball superstar: TF (Legal name, comes with Alcohol Fetal Syndrome and everything). I mention this only because as I was waiting in line, I noticed that the guy three people in front of me, was wearing an eye patch, and to top it all off; he was black! Not even Pirates of the Caribbean had that kind of diversity, I mean, a black pirate? Even if his leg was fine, he'd probably still walk like he had a peg-leg, as many black folk do these days.
Imagine what Shaft would be like if he were a pirate; he would be all "Arrg, I be Shaft, the bad mutha yous all talking aboot!"
In the evening, I went to Chili's with my family since my parents were leaving for Monterrey early next morning, and about halfway through the meal, while I was talking mind you, this table full of young black people started laughing exceedingly loud and practically yelling for a good six minutes non-stop. I'll tell you one thing (And probably a lot more later), stereotypes are stereotypes because someone saw a group of people, usually a race, doing something that only they did, and rightly assumed that almost all of "them" do it. Being loud and obnoxious may be exclusive to teenage girls, but I move that we add that to the young black people as well. As I sat there making my parents laugh with my rage-induced comments, all I could think about is how great it would be if we could just move them to the back of the restaurant; they could be as loud as they want! Hell, maybe we can have them have separate restaurants and since they're students, also have them sit in the back of school buses...this is the world I dream of.
The actual weekend consisted of me lounging around, playing with my little cousins, beating them at Wii bowling and teaching them it's OK to eat food that's fallen on the floor as per the Ten-Second Rule. Except for Sunday, when I woke up to cops ringing the doorbell. Apparently my uncle went to retrieve the newspaper in the morning and forgot the alarm was on, so I had to go downstairs and attempt to communicate with someone despite only being awake for 15 seconds; resulting in me saying the following statements:
Last Thank-Darwin-It's-Friday, I went to Cy-Fair Community College to change my Intro to Philosophy teacher from some Shaw character, to the Houston's very own paintball superstar: TF (Legal name, comes with Alcohol Fetal Syndrome and everything). I mention this only because as I was waiting in line, I noticed that the guy three people in front of me, was wearing an eye patch, and to top it all off; he was black! Not even Pirates of the Caribbean had that kind of diversity, I mean, a black pirate? Even if his leg was fine, he'd probably still walk like he had a peg-leg, as many black folk do these days.
Imagine what Shaft would be like if he were a pirate; he would be all "Arrg, I be Shaft, the bad mutha yous all talking aboot!"
In the evening, I went to Chili's with my family since my parents were leaving for Monterrey early next morning, and about halfway through the meal, while I was talking mind you, this table full of young black people started laughing exceedingly loud and practically yelling for a good six minutes non-stop. I'll tell you one thing (And probably a lot more later), stereotypes are stereotypes because someone saw a group of people, usually a race, doing something that only they did, and rightly assumed that almost all of "them" do it. Being loud and obnoxious may be exclusive to teenage girls, but I move that we add that to the young black people as well. As I sat there making my parents laugh with my rage-induced comments, all I could think about is how great it would be if we could just move them to the back of the restaurant; they could be as loud as they want! Hell, maybe we can have them have separate restaurants and since they're students, also have them sit in the back of school buses...this is the world I dream of.
The actual weekend consisted of me lounging around, playing with my little cousins, beating them at Wii bowling and teaching them it's OK to eat food that's fallen on the floor as per the Ten-Second Rule. Except for Sunday, when I woke up to cops ringing the doorbell. Apparently my uncle went to retrieve the newspaper in the morning and forgot the alarm was on, so I had to go downstairs and attempt to communicate with someone despite only being awake for 15 seconds; resulting in me saying the following statements:
- "My name is Homero Arellano, the son of ::slight pause:: my dad."
- "My dad is the owner of this house, which is why I'm here."
- "OK, thanks, sorry."
Definitely NOT one of my most intelligent moments.
Note to self (Also to my blog): Do NOT open mouth if you have been awake for less than 2 minutes. Also, talk in an English accent to cops next time to make their lives a little more surreal.
So there is a new vase of potpourri in the downstairs bathroom; it smells so good, that even if an old Indian guy were to have been recently slaughtered and had his remains thrown all over the walls, the first thing you'd say when entering the room is:
"Oh wow, you're right, it smells deli-OH MY GOD!! WHAT THE HELL?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED HERE BUT IF I HAD TO TAKE AN EDUCATED GUESS, I'D SAY THAT THESE ARE THE REMAINS OF AN OLD INDIAN MAN THAT WAS RECENTLY SLAUGHTERED, WHICH IS HARD TO FATHOM SINCE MOST PEOPLE IN HOUSTON ARE WHITE, HISPANIC OR BLACK; IN THAT PARTICULAR ORDER!!"
Or something along those lines.
Today, however, was a new day. The kind you'd see in a horror movie; the morning after the soon-to-be-dead family moves into the house where the murders of '76 took place. This is because today was my first day of classes over at The-college-formerly-known-as-Cy-Fair-Community-College, as they changed the name to Lone Star College - Cy-Fair. Here's a rundown of my two classes for today, and I'm not going to rate the girls in my classes until I get to know them a little better as I rarely give a number solely on looks...and because they will probably eventually read this:
English 1302
My first class is in the first of the Modular Buildings, which is a fancy name for Styrofoam floors and walls on cinder blocks. The class was actually really diverse and it seemed like I'll probably enjoy it. I also got that Dan character in this class so that was a cool surprise. The professor was pretty funny, seemed laid-back and pretty intelligent, ya'no, for a college professor. Towards the end of class, the Columbian girl in front of me misheard him say something about presidential candidates using fear in their campaigning, and thought he said beer instead. When she approved of using beer since "a lot of people like it"; it made for a good harmless laugh, to end the class. One thing I noticed, although it might have been just me, is that almost the whole time the professor was talking, he was looking straight at her. Since I was behind her, I couldn't tell if she was wearing a low-cut top (Although I doubt it since it was about 50 degrees outside), or if he was looking at her face to make eye-contact; either way, it was odd.
Also, when everyone was introducing themselves, one of the people before me was this Hispanic chick, and when she said "I want to major in", I immediately said "Nurse", to which I heard "Medicine"...too bad no one heard me. I think almost all Hispanic women become nurses because, since they know they're going to be having a shitload of kids, they might as well try to get an employee discount at the hospital.
During the one hour break I had before my next class, I went to Dan's house and we played Rock Band, which is much more difficult than I thought. I was pretty bad on the drums and substantially worse on the guitar, which I knew would happen since I can barely finish a song on Guitar Hero III, so I think I'm going to give the vocals a try next time.
History 1301
This class should be intense but fun, the professor is this older black gentleman who's actually retired, and doesn't look a day over 33, if that. Black people age almost too well, I think all those suburban housewives that want to look younger need to start rubbing black people's skin cells on their faces (Patent pending on that idea). Also, he was funny, not unusual for a black person of course, but he seemed really passionate about history, and passionate teachers always beat the extremely knowledgeable ones (In this case, he was both). There was a Hispanic girl in the back who was the typically preppy chick, smiles a lot and asks a lot of questions, etc. and I noticed her the millisecond (Yeah, I'm that fast) she walked in the room because she looks like a shorter and cheekier version of Ryan's girlfriend, Lindsey. At that moment, all I could think about is how awkward a double date would be if her and I went out... This will never happen, of course, as I am way too picky for my own good and would find something wrong with her before she even finishes telling me her name.
Macro-Economics is my other class for Mondays and Wednesdays, but it's a late start class, meaning it doesn't start until late.
I know this entry has a lot of comments about black people, so if you're in the KKK or just hate black people, and I've made you feel angry or uncomfortable, I apologize ahead of time. Alright, I reckon it's time for me to get started on that there homework that's due Wednesday; or install Age of Empires II again and totally nerd out for the night. Like Enya so eloquently put it: Only time will tell...
Note to self (Also to my blog): Do NOT open mouth if you have been awake for less than 2 minutes. Also, talk in an English accent to cops next time to make their lives a little more surreal.
So there is a new vase of potpourri in the downstairs bathroom; it smells so good, that even if an old Indian guy were to have been recently slaughtered and had his remains thrown all over the walls, the first thing you'd say when entering the room is:
"Oh wow, you're right, it smells deli-OH MY GOD!! WHAT THE HELL?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED HERE BUT IF I HAD TO TAKE AN EDUCATED GUESS, I'D SAY THAT THESE ARE THE REMAINS OF AN OLD INDIAN MAN THAT WAS RECENTLY SLAUGHTERED, WHICH IS HARD TO FATHOM SINCE MOST PEOPLE IN HOUSTON ARE WHITE, HISPANIC OR BLACK; IN THAT PARTICULAR ORDER!!"
Or something along those lines.
Today, however, was a new day. The kind you'd see in a horror movie; the morning after the soon-to-be-dead family moves into the house where the murders of '76 took place. This is because today was my first day of classes over at The-college-formerly-known-as-Cy-Fair-Community-College, as they changed the name to Lone Star College - Cy-Fair. Here's a rundown of my two classes for today, and I'm not going to rate the girls in my classes until I get to know them a little better as I rarely give a number solely on looks...and because they will probably eventually read this:
English 1302
My first class is in the first of the Modular Buildings, which is a fancy name for Styrofoam floors and walls on cinder blocks. The class was actually really diverse and it seemed like I'll probably enjoy it. I also got that Dan character in this class so that was a cool surprise. The professor was pretty funny, seemed laid-back and pretty intelligent, ya'no, for a college professor. Towards the end of class, the Columbian girl in front of me misheard him say something about presidential candidates using fear in their campaigning, and thought he said beer instead. When she approved of using beer since "a lot of people like it"; it made for a good harmless laugh, to end the class. One thing I noticed, although it might have been just me, is that almost the whole time the professor was talking, he was looking straight at her. Since I was behind her, I couldn't tell if she was wearing a low-cut top (Although I doubt it since it was about 50 degrees outside), or if he was looking at her face to make eye-contact; either way, it was odd.
Also, when everyone was introducing themselves, one of the people before me was this Hispanic chick, and when she said "I want to major in", I immediately said "Nurse", to which I heard "Medicine"...too bad no one heard me. I think almost all Hispanic women become nurses because, since they know they're going to be having a shitload of kids, they might as well try to get an employee discount at the hospital.
During the one hour break I had before my next class, I went to Dan's house and we played Rock Band, which is much more difficult than I thought. I was pretty bad on the drums and substantially worse on the guitar, which I knew would happen since I can barely finish a song on Guitar Hero III, so I think I'm going to give the vocals a try next time.
History 1301
This class should be intense but fun, the professor is this older black gentleman who's actually retired, and doesn't look a day over 33, if that. Black people age almost too well, I think all those suburban housewives that want to look younger need to start rubbing black people's skin cells on their faces (Patent pending on that idea). Also, he was funny, not unusual for a black person of course, but he seemed really passionate about history, and passionate teachers always beat the extremely knowledgeable ones (In this case, he was both). There was a Hispanic girl in the back who was the typically preppy chick, smiles a lot and asks a lot of questions, etc. and I noticed her the millisecond (Yeah, I'm that fast) she walked in the room because she looks like a shorter and cheekier version of Ryan's girlfriend, Lindsey. At that moment, all I could think about is how awkward a double date would be if her and I went out... This will never happen, of course, as I am way too picky for my own good and would find something wrong with her before she even finishes telling me her name.
Macro-Economics is my other class for Mondays and Wednesdays, but it's a late start class, meaning it doesn't start until late.
I know this entry has a lot of comments about black people, so if you're in the KKK or just hate black people, and I've made you feel angry or uncomfortable, I apologize ahead of time. Alright, I reckon it's time for me to get started on that there homework that's due Wednesday; or install Age of Empires II again and totally nerd out for the night. Like Enya so eloquently put it: Only time will tell...
2 comments:
Why would a KKK member get angry? it sounded like you were advocating black racism (jokingly, I assume), not preaching against it.
It made sense when I wrote it and I'm sticking by it.
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