Retard @ MindSay 
i now fully understand the meaning of that statement.
so last wednesday we had a meet at Manogue. the xc team's never been to this meet and it was class races which was just more pressure because me and justine are the only girls in our grade. but moving on.
this course. has got to be the most confusing piece of work ever crafted for the sport of cross country. i'm not even lying.
first you start and you go forward and then you go around and you go ALL THE WAY around and you go across and across the bridge then you turn right then you go ALL THE WAY around and then you go down again and then you go around again but not all the way around so you cut it off and go a cross and then you make that turn and go up and then you turn again and go across the bridge and then you cut across and go around but not all the way because you cut across and then you turn again and go down again and then you go around but not all the way because you cut across again and then you make that turn again and then you go up and then you're done.
and that was it.
so obviously just with the guy telling us we have no fucking clue what the hell is going on so i just sat there like 'uhhh. will there be people standing around telling us where to go?' and he said 'yeah tons. don't worry about it we couldn't get markers so we have a load of people standing and pointing and such.' and that basically saved my life and everyone else's right then so i was like okay this is fine i get it. because i was counting on the people being there. i mean who the fuck is going to remember that? and we didn't walk/jog the whole course before we ran because the freshmen had to go also.
but moving on. so it's the sophmore race now and i'm okay like i didn't know the course but people are going to be there telling me where i should go. okay fine i got this.
the race starts. okay okay okay okay. good good. no problem. i get a sideache but no problem that always happens to me whenever my coach tells me to go faster. nobody else just him it's weird but whatever i was doing fine.
and i'm not sure if you noticed but in the course you go on the bridge TWICE. well i only went on it once and i was going around to (i think) get on it the second time. and a bunch of guys were passing me because well hello they're guys and they're way faster so i was okay whatever. and they kept all going straight. so i was like. uhh. okay. and i was like wait what about the bridge? but everyone in front of me was going straight. and nobody was yelling at me to turn? so. um. okay. go straight instead? maybe you don't go on the bridge twice? yeah of course. nobody's telling me otherwise and everyone's going straight on to the finish. yeah. i'm doing the right thing.
wrong.
i finish and i walk off and i go to where the team is and this kid luis asks me how it was. i said 'okay. but you don't go on the bridge twice.' and brooke steps in and says 'oh no you do. you just missed the second turn.'
.......
and it was just the way she said it. i dunno how else to describe it but a 'matter of fact' way. and i now understand what that means now that she said that to me last wednesday.
and of course i felt like a fucking retard. like hello what the fuck. why didn't anyone tell me? i have a time and i didn't even run the whole race? i mean. jeez. can you say freaking retard three times fast?
but whatever. i felt like a retard for a while but then it turned into this really funny thing. i mean i knew it would the moment i found out but i still felt like a retard for a while. but what bothered me is like. if brooke and chelsea where there, then why couldn't they have told me like, hey turn at the bridge? why'd they let me go forward? why did ANYONE let me go forward? why were there people but not people to tell me where to go? that course is way too confusing you can't expect people to remember that. seriously.
after the race my coach talked to the manogue coach and he said he wanted to make it more "spectator friendly". i was like. what the fuck? cross country is not a spectator sport. you can't fucking make it one. who's the retard now?
but it's okay now though. i'm sure at least ONE dumb freshman did the same thing. hopefully.
This just in, my father just went and go, and came home with, a set of yamaha drums! The cost 1250 bucks! They are used, he found the ad is the newspaper. What the fuck is the moron thinking?! I can think of several things around here that need to be fixed. No, why fix any of those things, just blow the money on shit that he doesnt need, wont use, and will just collect dust.
I just cant believe tha he'd do something so stupid after he bitches about the little shit that we buy. WTF! I seriously dont understand what the fuck goes on between his ears.
~ seriously this amout of stupidity blows my mind
I'd like to start by saying that it's now 6:34 PM, and I'm writing this on the most expensive 80 sheets of college-ruled paper I've ever purchased. One dollar and seventy-nine cents, to be exact. That's how much of my ass I handed the lady behind the counter. Speaking of whom, I'd like to mention that she drinks, smokes, and only has an eighth (8) grade education. Ah, the joys of working at the Country Corner. Anyway, I was thinking a lot today and decided to write some stuff down...a lot has pissed me off in the last two (2) hours I've been in this joyful little orange-and-neon-yellow box most people call an "icee shack" when in fact we make sno cones and not icees.
Before I delve into what I was about to say, I'd like to tell you a story: this particular event happened right after I wrote the word "icees" above as the last word of the paragraph. I felt an urge to look out the side window (with the air conditioner) and witnessed a car recklessly swerve into the Chevron parking lot. As with most Chevron-goers, this is rather common behavior. What wasnm't common behavior (thought it still happens often enough), was the fact that this particular metal cage drove along the sidewalktoward the shack, and sharply pulled up along the window I was watching it f0.rom. As usual, I reached over, turned down the radio, proceeded to drop the F bomb, as I was already annoyed at the newest customer. Then he got out of the vehicle, and Iwas tipped towards a slightly deeper sense of annoyance. Not surprisingly, my stereotypical suspiscion was indeed correct: a stinkin Mexican, probably newly-arrived in these United States. As he walked around the shack and stepped up onto the box from which peope generally order their cavity-inviting, syrup-covered ice particles, I was even more annoyed (nay, mildly pissed off) at what came out of his mouth. Unabated, he starts going off in Mexican about (I came to learn later) how I work in a sno shack and he'd like two (2) smalls. Obviously, I do not speak Mexican (I am, afterall, a white guy), so naturally, I don't understand his ignorant slursn and I say "What?" This sends that dirty little man and his son into fits of laughter. He looks to his left at his wife, who was just getting out of their vehicle, and tells her the story in their little language, completel with his rendition of my "What?", in perfect English.
They all haev a wonderful laugh while I'm still standing there, like they think I don't know what's going on. After their brief enjyoment at my expense, teh man decides to tell me what they call sno shacks in southern Mexico and Guatemala (I think that's what he was saying...his broken English was a little difficult to comprehend). He gets a small Green Apple and a small Pineapple (the two [2]standard Mexican flavors...it could only have been more gloriously Mexican had he also ordered a Pina Colada.) So I make him and his son thei sugary idea of an afternoon snack (not the wife, notice...why'd she get out of the car then?) and they're on their merry little way.
What a couple of jack-offs.
Anyway, back to what I was going to say, before I was interrupted by the Missing Link between apes and humans:
I looked out the main window and saw this beautiful girl pumping gas into a green car. I'm serious. She was hot. Really hot. I managed to yank my eyes away long enough to notice two (2) young men of similar height ans age blatantly loitering next to the door of the store. They leaned against against the outer wall as if waiting for their friend inside so they could walk back to wherever they came from. Their relevence to the story is introduced in a moment. Now, to paint the scene a little better, let em describe the two: gay. You know the kind of kid who think he's all that abnd a bag of chips but he's really got nothin' at all and everyone sees it but him? This was them. You could say they were both a kind of Mikkel Anderson (is that his name?).
Anyway, hot girl finishes pumping gas and proceeds to walk to the door. She says hello to the two (2) rediculous, dickless wonders and opens the door for herself and goes inside to pay for the gas. SHe returns to the great outdoors a minute or so later, and one of the moron teenage boys (with a hat on mind you...we'll refer to him as the Mad Hatter) proceeds to grab her arm and pull her closer and puts his arms around her. About this time, I'm both hoping she slaps him for being an asshole, and ticked off that if that's the case then she'll be less receptive to 16-year-old guys hitting on her abnd potentially mating with her. To my sheer, utter surprise (and dismay, to some degree) she doesn't fight back. Let's review: asshole grabs her, no resistance at all. With me? Okay. Then I had an idea: "maybe she's just really really easy." That brought up my morale a bit, but it was quickly diminished as she kissed the Mad hatter and they stood there in each other's arms. Disgusting. Afterward, the two (2) idiots get into the green car's front seats, and make the hot girl take the back, and they drive away.
Summary: moron makes hot girl pump gas, open her own door, pay for said gas (all while he lounges around like a lazy ass), and makes her sit in the back while he and his buddy jack off in the front.
It's times like this that I think hate being a decent guy. The assholes end up doing just as well, and they do less than a small fraction of the work I do. Worthless. Then I pondered the only reasons she was still around either of them: A) she don't know she's beautiful and she thinks the Mad Hatter is the best she can get, or B) he's one rich little fucker and gets her a condo on the moon if she asks. In case of A, I'd love to help her with that. In case of B, poor guy, but it's his own damn fault. Moron.
I just went in to buy some candies. A Hershey's Cookies and Cream, a Milky Way, a 3 Musketeers, a York Peppermint Pattie, and a Twix. Cost me $4.13 worth of my left testicle. That's insane. It's candy. Jeez.
Anyway, story number two (2):
if you're reading this, I assume you know me, and therefore know Brett Hawkins. If not, skip the rest of this.
I very much dislike Mr. Brett Hawkins. He's retarded, in my oh so humble opinion. I could very well go into details as to why, how, what, when, and where it all started and everything since, but that's a little too offensive. I'm listening to Lifehouse and I just can't be very offensive at the moment.
Anyway, he and Casey Soelberg and Steve Clements come to the shack. I have nothing against Casey really, but he asked for a free one, and I hardly ever talk to the kid. Annoying. Steve Clements, though, I think, is a total moron. ANd whatever that is that hecalls facial hair...it's gotta go. He looks like a thirteen-year-old (13) Mexican. It's stupid. Kick him in the....reproductive organs...or something.
Showing 1 - 5. [ Next ]