The Day of Amendments

Okay. So. I want to be in this blogging thing, but I'm so bad at it. And I'm always like, Hey! That would make a really good blog theme and all this. But then I never actually blog. Even though I seemingly have so much to say! And how cruel of me to keep the people of the world from knowing what my very important and obviously astute and expert opinions are about!? Very cruel indeed.
So today is the Day of Amendments. I'm not quite sure how the said Amendment is to work just yet, but what I've worked out is that I want to have a few different themes for posts. I am thinking it might be too hard to narrow it down to say Monday is this themed post and Tuesday is this, so all you millions of readers out there just get to wonder when your favourite post is going to be posted! All the more exciting.
 The titles of the Posts Yet to be Posted are:

The Not An Idiot Award
The Single of the Week
The Poem of the Week
The Image Box
Something I or Somebody Else Wore

I reserve the right to add or subtract to this list, which is in fact a living breathing document, and is consequently subject to the possible addition of intermittent rants of any kind I deem necessary.
And yes I'm pompous and unforgivably wordy.

Today, Everyone, is the Poem of the Week Post.  I will post a poem weekly, of my own authorship or of someone else. This first time, it will be my own, of which we will soon run out of. Now don't laugh people, but I tried. Don't yell because I have no form or clue of what I'm doing.
But dear old Allen Ginsberg once told me that the best stuff comes from you and your life. Good poetry and/or writing is the stuff that bridges the gap between what makes everything about daily peer to peer conversation most interesting, and literature. We are very frank and open when we talk to our friends, I mean for the most part right? The trick is to make that relate-able and readable and understandable. Verbalizing emotions. Yes? He also said that prophecy is knowing what some kid is going to feel one hundred years down the line. Knowing that people felt feel and will feel exactly what you wrote. So this is my go at that. Respect the Go!

(Disclamer: Also, I'm not mad all of the time. Just the times I write poems. So watch out.)





I

I am young and I am blonde, and school is for jocks and whores and scumbrains.
Everything is about A’s A’s A’s.
Even my best friend has them.
My best friend has a boyfriend.
The thing about him is that he is pretty funny, but also he can be a jock and a whore and a scumbrain.
Not to mention idiot.
She is tight about somethings, he is tight about others, and this usually means that everything else in their lives gets shafted so that they can make out more.
Too many times I have ended up sitting on his bed watching, yes, another Adam Sandler movie while they lay all over each other, and he tries to touch her boobs and she pretends that she isn’t letting him.
Weekends are a lot of fun.
The perfect pubic couple, and then me.
My other friend got wise to the fact that she was pretty,
and figured out that people liked that and hit the road.
School is full of dirt bags.
Everyone is an individual, of course.
Classes are especially my favorite.
P.E. goes around and around the gym, economics usually results in four pages of notes.
Government, she is cool.
She’s got a Breakfast Club poster and a cute purple maxi dress.
She plays along with the morons, but takes it for what its worth.
There is a biggest fat moron in government as well, the kind that have commentary for everything but only two percent of it is funny. Get a filter. Or don’t act like you are this genius and then pretend that you don’t know what the word extraneous means.
Cue laughter I’m so funny right guys vote me class clown!
A’s stand for attention attention attention.
Don’t even get me started on english.
I can write, right? I like to write, I know a sentence from a not sentence,
but also when it’s on purpose.
I’ll comma splice you if you don’t shut up.
Don’t you know you should write like you are? Not, like you, or your idea.
Or do they make sure professors don’t know that.
Maybe it’s a requirement.
Even if I don’t sound like Jack Kerouac, your job is to help me sound like that more and more, not less and less and less and less, MLA whore I make love to the AP board.
I can also do math.
Stupidity plus stubbornness equal a C minus.
Don’t you hate it when boys can’t tell the difference between hey you are a cool guy friend I like to chill and play guitars with, and hey will you put your arm around me during the movie?
Because I do.
And it can get you into a lot of trouble, and really annoy you, and end up in a lot of excuses.
I wouldn’t recommend it.
Where’s that guy that you want to to do both with?
Oh yeah, he is shy and works at pizza hut.
Darn shyness and inexperience.
The best kind of date is when all you do is touch the grass with your hands and talk about changing from E7 to Gm7 or your new jeans.
Its okay if you don’t go anywhere because there isn’t
anywhere that you would rather be.
I try not to get stuck on the dates where you need an activity to keep you occupied so you don’t have to talk.
Those dates should come with a warning label: Hey, I’m hazardous.
(Hazardous is code for boring as crap).
Also, no omg plz willz u cum 2 da mallz cuz u 2 cul 4 skul lol :)))).
Deal breaker.
I’d like to tell those guys, to uh like, watch me epically walk down the epic hall in total epic silence with totally epic booty action to show them how epic their epic fail just was.
Is that too harsh?
I’ve met a few cool people too you know.
Usually it’s the kind parents hate.
I’m not requiring horn rims and a beard, but that is totally okay with me.
Hint, Hint.
Is it too much to ask for a guy that knows your obscure but obviously very sophisticated references?
Apparently.
Dudes, work on that.
I don’t get why people say, Grow Up and Get a Life.
Really it should read, Grow Up and Give Up Your Life.
It’s never a positive thing you are talking about when they say: welcome to real life, the real world, being a grown up.
I don’t see what all the hype is about.
Kids, I know it looks glamourous, but it’s all just a con, escape before they get yours too.
Maybe if we ignore it it will go the the place where all the forgotten fads go.
They had it right when they moved to a yellow submarine.
Responsibility might be more popular if it involved a yellow submarine.
This is why I am still stuck babysitting my best friend.
I’ll listen to you man, but you have to listen too,
or else you’ll see me with other people even more often.
I have my ways.
You gave up the rights to those ways when you got a boyfriend.
More importantly when you accepted that maybe-possibly-I’ll-marry-you-because-i’ll-always-love-you-forever-and-ever-until-the-ends-of-the-earth-I won’t-date-anyone-else-ever-never-engaged-to-be-engaged rings.
I am a big believer in them can you tell?
Don’t get me wrong, I am romantic, right?
But I do try to avoid cliches.
Okay, besides the beard and the horn rims, shut it.
But am I right or am I right.
Call me a romance crusher murderer of love, but maybe I am just trying to be realistic, is that too much to ask?
Just realize there might be signs of intelligent life outside of school.
I suppose I am rooting for them just the same,
but I still can’t handle getting shafted in the name of love all the time.
Watch out or you will make me even more of a big fat jaded ogre than I already am.
It’s true, I’m fat.
Sometimes, my best friend will call me, in a fit of rage.
There are occasions where she sees past the hormones and realized that he can be a the horniest, most selfish jerk the world has possibly ever known, and I get to hear all about it.
I do like these occasions.
Then I am flooded with her resolutions.
I will make time for my self for my family for my homework I’ll get a job we need a break he needs to realize I can’t kiss him all the time why do I always give in so I am just going to not text back I feel like doing a puzzle instead I think I’ll start with that and so pretty much we are going to break up and I am okay with it and I am on a new diet so tomorrow you should look at my thighs more closely and I am never going to date anyone ever again ever.
Mostly like that.
I don’t mind though they don’t last long. She forgot about her marathon in a week.
But hey, I mean, she is my best friend, since seventh grade is a long time, I mean, most marriages don’t even last that long, so here we still are.
In the words of Winston Churchill, we’re all in this together, right?