SCHOOL SCHOOL SCHOOL

Greetings, my dearest pals, from my comfy seat in Starbucks! I am just sitting here, sipping my coffee dutifully (this is part of my job description as a professional Coffee Addict), and stroking my chin in deep thought whilst musing about life.

Today is of particular importance, you see, as it marks the end of a very very very long and drawn-out summer and the start of SCHOOL! I am actually so giddy and excited to resume my life as a student that I could hardly sleep last night. I am, after all, one of those nerdy types who really loves education. Not to mention, this year I will be beginning my studies in the design program, and ALL of my classes for fall quarter are in the Art Building. You know what that means? That means that even if I lose all of my arms and legs in a motorcycle accident and can only get around by inching along like a slug, I will still be able to get to all of my classes on time! As a matter of fact, I will probably even be early. The design program is very sympathetic towards motorcycle victims like myself, after all.

On the downside, I just realized this morning that because I chose to hunt for "bargain books" this year and ordered everything via the internet, I actually don't have ANY of my textbooks yet... Which is a tad on the problematic side as school starts today. Ohhhh, my life is a funny, little place sometimes. Anyway, I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will not be immediately expelled for my blatant lack of preparation, and maybe my teachers will not beat me with spiked whips (as is customary) for not having my books on time. That is my hope.

On a brighter note, I woke up this morning feeling very popular after I checked my blog views and saw that my close, personal pals over in Latvia are actually reading the post dedicated to them yesterday! How very encouraging. So even if I am kicked out of school and forced to pursue a career as a blind acrobat in the circus (which will be difficult, because my motorcycle accident as left me without limbs... and also I am not blind), I will know that somewhere out there in the world, I am appreciated.

Well, that is all for now.... Summer is over, and I am now off to bigger and better things! Three cheers for a higher education! I am so painfully cheerful at the moment, I could explode.

To my Dear Friends in Latvia......

Just yesterday, it came to my attention while browsing my blog's statistics, that I am now the proud owner of an internationally acclaimed site. That's right, unlike my slightly less famous or well-known viewers, I am a renowned author now, known all over the world for my revolutionary and inspirational writings! It's a tough life being so famous, but someone has to do it, I suppose.

Anyway, as I was saying, just a day ago, I discovered to my great delight, that I now have one blog view from LATVIA of all places! And although it's perhaps 90% possible that this one viewing from across the world was just a mistake, and that someone accidentally clicked on my site while googling beards or vampires or the future and then (after realizing that they had just stumbled upon a crap blog) quickly navigated away, I choose not to believe this. I think it was fate. And I think that my one Latvian viewer is probably out there right now, staring at his or her computer screen, counting down the moments until my next blog post and refreshing the screen over and over and over again with great vigor. And that is what I believe.

I have always loved the Latvians, after all. They are one of the world's greater races, and that is why I am dedicating this blog post to the noble souls of Latvia- particularly the one, saintly viewer who sometime in the last week actually looked at my blog. I love you more than words can express.

Anyway, out of a place of deep intimacy and tenderness with my Latvian brethren, I have decided to write them a poem, to better express their venerable place in the deepest folds of my heart. To Latvia!

Ode to Latvia

Oh, Latvia, you make my heart swell with passion.

For your Baltic people are all of high fashion.

Without your friendship, my face will turn ashen;

my feelings for you, I cannot even ration.

And though your climate is remarkably humid,

you love cheese and folk music, which is not-at-all stupid.

A word to describe you would NOT be putrid,

for your people shower regularly in nice, clean fluid.

If I could pick one country in the world to dispose of,

it would not be Latvia that I would let go of.

But probably a lesser country whom I do not so love!

For my dear friends in Latvia, I could never give the shove.

To Latvia: my favorite unitary parliamentary land!

I now feel a joy I could never withstand.

If I were a king, you would be at my right hand.

To Latvia! To liberty! Forever will you stand!

Fin.

----

Latvia: you have pierced my heart in a way you cannot comprehend. If I ever become fabulously wealthy and end up ruling the world with an iron fist, you can rest assured that I will spare you and your people.

Cheers,

Your friend from America,

Brianna.

The Sooooo Many Thing I Have Not Been Doing.

Hello there, my little internet friends!

I just sat down like five minutes ago with the intent of writing a gripping and heart-wrenching account of what I've been doing lately. Unfortunately, after a solid five minutes of intense thinking, I suddenly remembered that my life is neither gripping nor heart-wrenching, and I actually have nothing to say to the world. On that cheerful note, I have shifted my sights slightly to instead write a gripping and heart-wrenching account of what I have NOT been doing lately. Which is many things, actually. Anyways.... um.... please enjoy.

The Tale of What I Have NOT Been Doing Lately.

I will start with last Tuesday when I did not contract a deadly skin disease. I did not go to the hospital, did not have to be quarantined in an underground cell, and did not lose all my limbs and die. The following day, I did not discover that my parents are actually antelopes dressed up in very convincing human costumes. I also didn't get a letter from the National Ribbon Dancers of America (NRDA) this morning, telling me that I made it to ribbon-dancing regionals in Salt Lake City. But don't worry, because I am actually not a ribbon dancer, so it wasn't too much of a letdown.

Anyway, after not discovering that my dream of ribbon-dancing with the stars was hopeless, I didn't bitterly dye my hair black, recede into the underground sewers, and start cursing people angrily under my breath in Parsletongue. And while I wasn't lurking creepily in the sewers, I didn't accidentally stumble across an ancient underground cult of vampire bats, and (after not going through an initiation involving a vat of cobra venom and some rat carcasses), I was not accepted as their newest member. Nor was I, after only several days, promoted to their King, after accidentally killing the old one when I impaled him with a stake as a funny sort of practical joke. And after I was not named King, my vampire minions and I definitely did not enlist ourselves in the Navy in an attempt to reform our blood-sucking ways and embrace a life of patriotism and chivalry. That would be stupid.

Speaking of which, because I am not a vampire and also don't have a cult of other vampires calling me their king, I have been free to spend my time doing things that don't involve competitive figure skating with my homosexual, Russian teammate, Gustav. And because I haven't been tied down with my intensive training for the Olympic skate team, I have instead been doing many things like not eating dogs or learning Hebrew. I have also not had anyone accidentally spill a glass of milk on me lately, and I have not discovered that I am pregnant, or a man, or a pregnant man, or a pregnant man covered with a glass of milk that someone accidentally spilled on me.

In conclusion, I have not deer-hunted in years.

----------------

The End.

The Only Possible Reason for a Beard

The appeal of facial hair is absolutely baffling to me... Maybe it's because I'm a girl and have never been tempted by the desire to grow myself a hearty beard, don a plaid shirt, and chop down trees, or maybe it's because I live in a temperate climate where my face isn't often uncomfortably cold or chaffed, but the whole practice really seems unnecessary.

In my eyes, there are only two situations in which it is entirely excusable to grow a beard:

1. You are a Jew from the Old Testament, and you're growing out your beard, because God told you to
2. You're entering a beard-growing competition

In all other situations, facial hair really just seems superfluous. And that's where my confusion sets in; despite the impracticality of having a scruffy animal living on your face, facial hair continues to flourish, and men far and wide still applaud the scraggly nuisance as a sort of art. At the moment, I am currently sitting at a coffee shop, and I have just looked up from my writing to survey the room of precisely seven men; astoundingly, six of them are sporting well-tended beards. My only questions is this: ... Why???

According to my above list of circumstances in which it is acceptable to have a beard, the numbers simply don't add up. Out of those six men, maybe two are growing out their hair for some sort of contest, and maybe one was commanded directly by God to cease shaving, but what about the other three? Do they simply not care about their personal grooming? Are they trying to cover up large birthmarks on their chins? Or perhaps they just like the comfort of having a furry friend on their faces to stroke absentmindedly while out and about?

In an effort to better understand the madness behind the male infatuation with growing hair on one's face, I have decided to come up with a list of every possible reason a person could want facial hair. I write this list mainly for myself, in hopes that it may lead to some sort of personal revelation that will help me to identify more closely with my heavily bearded acquaintances. Perhaps there is some well-founded reason behind this unsightly trend.

Every Possible Reason a Person Could Want Facial Hair:

1. I guess it is okay to have facial hair, if you are an old man or a wizard. A long, white beard can make you look wizened and powerful... A beard of this fashion, however, should always be accompanied by a full-length cloak and spectacles. As they often say, with great beards, comes great responsibility.
2. A thick and unruly beard can also be a good place to store things. My grandpa, for instance, likes to leave old bits of food in his untamed beard for a midday snack. Pirates, on the other hand, often use beards like these to store treasure. Sometimes, terrorists even like to use them to stow away bombs and such! Beards of this sort all serve very practical purposes.
3. It is okay to have facial hair if you are Santa Claus, and you need your beard to be jolly.
4. A beard can be handy if you are an embittered singer/songwriter, and you want the world to know that you don't care.
5. Beards can serve as a nice distraction if you have some sort of unsightly deformity like a dorsal fin or an extra head.
6. If you are homeless, you can use your beard as a blanket, or (if it is exceptionally long) as a sort of makeshift tent.
7. Useful Beard Scenario: you are kidnapped and imprisoned in a bathroom. You have no useful objects with you but your 10 foot long beard and a bottle of styling gel (found in the cupboard). You can easily fashion your beard into a lock-pick, then restyle it into a sword to fight off your assailants, and finally into a rope to tie them all up until the cops arrive. This is a handy and totally realistic use.
8. A beard can make a nice pillow if you like to sleep on your face.
9. Abraham Lincoln used his beard to help end slavery. If you, too, hope to stop a social injustice, a beard may be a practical investment.
10. If you are a male actor who is hoping to play the role of Abraham Lincoln in a movie called How Abraham Lincoln Used his Beard to End Slavery, you will probably have better chances of landing the role if you, also, have a beard.

Well, there you have it: 10 entirely practical uses for growing a beard in everyday life! If any of the examples on this list apply to you, feel free to throw away your razors and let your chin hair grow to your hearts delight. It is perfectly understandable, and I will be quite all right with your decision. If however, you cannot relate any of these instances to your own personal situation, I whole-heartedly advise you to go into your bathroom, get a razor, and put an end to the furry creature's residence on your face. It will do us all some good.

Hello there, FUTURE.

I have recently decided to do something remarkable with my life.

Forget about all that schooling and college nonsense; anybody can earn a meager wage from the insipid insights of a higher education. I, however, have decided to spend my time doing something worthwhile, something that will undoubtedly earn me the title of the Greatest Human Being to Ever Live.

I am going to make a name for myself as a time traveler!

That's right, while other fools are wasting their time learning to become doctors or scientists or something else completely useless, I will actually be doing something important. Now you may wonder just how I plan to get to the future with nothing but a high school education and a few college art classes under my belt, but I assure you, these musings are of little consequence. I do, as a matter of fact, have a plan -- one that is sure to succeed. Time travelers over the years have wasted precious hours fiddling around with complicated-looking space modules and machinery, but they have always emerged empty-handed from their over-ambitious projects. I, on the other hand, plan to take the more simple route.

I will follow in the footsteps of my good friend, the grizzly bear, and go into a state of hibernation--only not just for the winter, but for 1000 years. Science has proven that whilst sleeping, an organism's heart rate slows down considerably. This means that while the rest of the world continues at a normal pace, the specimen-in-question lives by a remarkably slower internal clock, rendering them free from the grasp of time! They breathe slower, process slower, and most importantly, age slower. As I have stated before, this is a scientifically proven fact. I am at least 60% sure of this.

However, just sleeping is not enough to do the trick. Like my great ancestors, the Neanderthals, I plan to induce this ageless state by freezing myself into a block of ice. This should allow my body to be preserved almost perfectly while I slumber, so when I awake 1000 years in the future, I will be more or less unchanged. On the downside, I do not have any giant blocks of ice or freezing chambers on hand, so I plan to simply stuff myself into my kitchen freezer for the next 10 centuries of so. It will be a little cramped, but as long as I can keep my parents from opening it too often to grab frozen dinners or ice cream (and therefore awaking me from my deep sleep), I think the anti-aging effects will be more or less the same.

Now when I awake from my comatose state, I expect the world to be a very different place... Therefore, in preparation for my voyage, I will dress in what I assume is very fashionable futuristic attire so as not to look like a complete fool when I emerge (see photo below). I will also bring a few trinkets from the past with me to show to my futuristic admirers, such as a snack pack of chocolate pudding (as they will probably have lost the habit of eating by then) and my extinct dog, Sweetie (just because he is small and plump and will probably fit in the freezer with me).

Anyway, I plan to crawl into my freezer sometime today (probably after dinner), so if anyone wishes to stop by and bid me farewell and good luck, that would be much appreciated. For now, though, I fear I must say goodbye to all you simpletons of the past. I will miss your endearingly archaic ways, but for the time being, I am off to bigger and better things!

Goodbye world of the past..... Hello there, FUTURE.

*Note: I feel that this blog post demands some sort of explanation. Contrary to popular belief, I actually DO have a life. I just also have a lot of free time that I like to spend doing practical things, like dressing in space suits and stuffing myself into freezers.... you know, totally normal stuff. I whole heartedly assert that I am not a loser.

The Newest Addition to our Family....

Well, my family has truly done it...

Though any moderately sane person would have thought that my house was full-to-bursting with 3 dogs and 2 birds, the Ailie's have chosen to spite the system and have now officially thrown a new pet cockatiel (by the name of Butter) into the equation. Though my parents claim that Butter's residence is only temporary (as he is technically my sister's), the giant cage we have set up for him in the kitchen begs to differ. He is here for the long run, and I may as well accept my sad fate. Yes, for those of you stunned readers who think I'm joking, I do, as a matter of fact, now have 6 pets.

Not 4... Not 5... But 6.

We have now achieved a classifiably sickening number of animals in our poor house, and I fear that with our 10 (that's the rounded-up version of 6) pets, we may as well toss our collective mental health out the window and embrace a life of absolute madness. Yes, the Ailie's have now adhered to the Call of the Wild and are officially casting off our last scrap of sanity with gay abandon to instead follow in the footsteps of our good friend, St. Francis (lover of animals). We may very soon be living out in the wilderness with no clothes, while pouring Holy Water on vicious wolves and eating locusts. Such is the life of an animal-loving saint like myself.

Anyways, with the shear masses of wildlife currently taking refuge at my house, my family has accepted the task of caring for them as our God-given call. We have begun to make changes to better manage the outrageous number of creatures we are raising and, for practical purposes, have begun to construct our very own ark to store them in. Until the rains come, however, and God gives the final call for us to haul them all on board, the thousands of creatures we are currently housing are residing comfortably indoors with us. No worries, though-- when the time comes for it, my family and I will be more than ready to repopulate the earth's wildlife with our expansive collection of dogs and birds. It is a task we were born to carry out.

For the time being, though, allow me to introduce you to my 1200 (give or take a few....) pets! I hope you like them. They are very charming.

Taffy: the alpha of the pack... her hobbies include sleeping and growing tumors.

HP: 80

Special Attack:

Being Deaf-- +30 damage

Sadie: the rebellious one of the bunch... she likes to blatantly disregard commands

HP: 120

Special Attack:

Poison Odor-- +60 damage, can momentarily paralyze opponent.

Sweetie: Possibly the most obscenely fat dog in the world... Sweetie enjoys eating and looking like a sausage

HP: 10

Special Attack:

Body Slam-- +150 damage

Peanut and Popcorn: our matching cannibal birds... they like to attempt murder on a daily basis

HP: 55

Special Attacks:

NOT DYING WHEN I WANT THEM TO-- +300 damage

Butter: the newest of the bunch... he seems to enjoy shuffling about and being very noisy

HP: 65

Special Attack:

Sonic Screech-- +75 damage... casts opponent into confusion

I hope you enjoyed meeting my lovely 300 pets. They are SO SUPER and also AWESOME.

Hats off to my Favorite Crime-Fighting Cop!

After recently finishing all 70 online episodes of Axe Cop (the greatest comic book EVER), I feel I should take this opportunity to rave about it to the world.

Narrated by a 5-year-old boy and illustrated by his 29-year-old brother, Axe Cop is truly the greatest action-packed and gripping comic probably since the dawn of time. You never know what will happen next. Whether he's killing bad guys at night in his stealthy black cat suit, chopping off vampire's heads, or riding around on Wexter, the flying T-Rex with robot machine gun arms, Axe Cop is always off on an adventure. He is not alone though; Axe Cop has a killer crime-fighting team made up of Ralph Winkles (the talking dog), Uni Man (a man so smart, he grew a unicorn horn), Sockarang (superhero with socks instead of arms), Uni Avocado Soldier (part soldier... part avocado... with a magic unicorn horn to grant wishes!), and a series of other odd friends to ensure that he always has the upper hand on bad guys.

Where there is crime, there is Axe Cop... He will always be there to save the day, whether from the evil clutches of Hasta Mia (half dog, half really mean zombie) or from the malicious plots of Vampire Bay Kid and his neck of steal. With his trusty axe and secret attack of materializing food he's just eaten into bombs that come out of his hands, Axe Cop is always up for a good fight.

If you have never heard of Axe Cop, I would advise you to read it immediately. Your life will probably never be the same again... With this 5-year-old author's odd fixation on magic unicorn horns, super secret attacks, and convoluted plot twists, you will surely be entertained for every moment of your time. I cannot stress to the world enough how important it is to read these comics. I am providing a link to Axe Cop's home page, below, so that you will not have to delay another moment before digging in.

http://axecop.com/index.php/acepisodes

Read and enjoy! And as soon as you have done so, TELL ME (!!!), so that I also can bask in your newfound happiness and fulfillment.

An Interesting Abduction

It has been many moons since my last blog post, but, believe it or not, I actually have an adequate excuse for for my negligence. It's not that I've grown lazy, or that I've lost my passion for the blogging society, or even that I finally have gotten a life and friends and stopped sitting around buried in my laptop all day-- but a real, solid reason for my absence:

I was eaten by a shark.

Now I know what you're thinking.... How did I find a shark to get eaten by in Seattle of all places? A month ago, I would have laughed at the very notion. However, as I lie here in my hospital bed, covered in bandages from head to toe in the shark-victim emergency care ward, the idea seems a lot less humorous. Unbeknownst to many Seattle residents, rogue shark attacks within the city limits are actually one of the leading causes of death in the King County region. Claiming countless lives every year, Seattle's shark population stealthily preys upon unprepared city-livers, taking advantage of victims' naivety to strike, unprovoked. Often swimming unseen throughout the sewers in packs of ten or more, these sharks are notorious for leaping out of grates to abduct innocent pedestrians crossing the street or naively climbing down man holes.

My personal abduction took place August 31, 2010-- a day that will remain forever etched in my mind. I had left the house that morning with the innocent intent of taking a stroll through our local sewage treatment plant. Little did I know, as I ambled merrily past the streams of contaminated water and debris, that I was being lured into a trap. At precisely 10:15 am, I was taken. One moment, I was walking innocently along the path, and the next I was struggling in the water against 3 rows of teeth and the iron grasp of a great white.

Countless victims before me have been snatched, but rarely do they live to tell the tale. Fortunately, I was lucky... I was eaten in just two bites, and although I lost a leg and a hand and one of my many kidneys, I somehow found myself still alive in the great white's digestive system. For two days, I lied in there, waiting for the shark's stomach juices to take their toll, while musing grimly to myself and vainly willing my leg to re-grow. On the third day, however, I grew bored of the shark's insanely slow digestive process, so I stiffly sat up to take a look around. My survival instincts were kicking in, and my mind was racing with ideas of escape. I started searching through the remains of the shark's other meals for some trinket that could help me pry my way out, and although the many car tires and raccoon carcasses that I found proved useless, I stumbled across several valuable items. The first was a detailed map of the Seattle sewage system. The second was a bottle of shark poison, the third, a scuba suit (complete with oxygen tanks), and finally a surprisingly handy book called "How to Escape from a Shark's Stomach with only a Map, a Bottle of Shark Poison, and a Scuba Suit." With these weapons in hand and with fortune smiling down on me, I then began to devise my escape....

Several poisoned sharks later, I found myself blinking in the sunlight as I pushed my way out of a sewage grate, map in hand, with nothing but a startling tale and a prize shark head (that I cut off as a sort of trophy to hang over my mantle) as proof of my adventure. I have been in the shark-ward for almost a week now, and am pleased to say that with the help of a bottle of skelo-grow and a new kidney, I will be good as new any day now. I can only hope that my tragic tale will inspire others to be more wary and take the precautions to not be eaten by sharks. On the bright side, my story is currently being made into a Lifetime channel movie to be aired on tv all of next month. It is my dearest hope that the film will spread shark-awareness and save lives and also make me unbelievably rich. That is all I ask.