I honestly don’t understand why girls think piercings and tattoos are cute.  ”OMG I HAVE METAL STICKING OUT OF MY BODY IT’S SOOOOOO CUTE” or “OMG I TOOK A NEEDLE TO MY SKIN NOW I HAVE SHARPIE ALL OVER ME FOREVER”

Do you know what euphemisms are? They’re simply phrases that are “sugarcoated.” Phrases like “cemetary operative” instead of “gravedigger” or “intestinal release of pressure” for “fart.”

These circumloqutions seem to be mild and harmless, but they actually create more harm than they do good. For one, it gives people a false sense of hope that the world isn’t as bad as it really is. If a child grows up in a euphemistic environment, hearing that his pet hamster “went on a very long vacation,” then he will expect to go through the rest of life, having his hand held through until death. This is not the case. The workplace will cut you down. They deliver it straight and blunt: if you’re doing something wrong or bad, they’ll tell you. When this happens, don’t expect to have a shoulder to cry on.

There are other types of euphemisms. If you tell a person that he’s doing “fine,” then you’re implicitly stating that he’s not doing anything wrong and should keep up the work. You’re pretty much giving them the thumbs-up and telling them that they’re doing fine–which leaves no room for improvement. I think the reason we (the United States) are beginning to fall behind Europe in terms of development is that we don’t give the simple truth–we halt our fellow Americans’ development when we take their feelings into consideration.

I don’t know about you, but I’d be much more hurt if someone lied to me than if somebody told me very bluntly that I had some sort of problem. If someone tells you bluntly about a problem they have with you, stop crying and fix it as quickly as you can. It’ll save you pain in the future. However, if not (whic h is more likely), then… well, you shouldn’t be overly-critical about everything. Instead, when or if a person asks you, “how do I look in this?” Be blunt. Be straighforward. If they get offended, tell them that you only wish for the best.

May the force be with you.

As I get older, I realize more and more how crappy the world is getting. I now wish I were born earlier in the years, even though technology wasn’t as advanced as it is now.

First of all, I think America is ruining the world. People say, “America is land of the free! America is the land of dreams!” I think that’s BS. All people do here is sit around on their fat butts and do nothing. The only people who work hard are the Mexicans and/or immigrants who need money to support their families back in their home country.

Another point I need to make is how the celebrities are making people anorexic and bulimic. One statistic I read stated that only 10% of the US looks like the celebrities, and the other 90% is fat. Look at Mississippi, for example (No offense to Mississippians). Mississippi has the most obese people in the US. The US has the most obese people in the world. Thus, by the transitive property, Mississippi has the most obese people in the world. Now that McDonald’s is dominating the fast-food market, people are eating less healthy, and they’re getting fatter and fatter and fatter and fatter, getting to the point where they’re unable to walk.

Here’s another thing I don’t like: America is one giant melting pot. People from all over the world come here to “find work,” but I really think they’re just here to look for a spouse, and since it’s America, where a helluva lot of people from other races are here, there ends up being a half-Asian, half-white kid. Half white is common. How about Half-Black, half-Chinese, or half-Japanese, half-Mexican? I honestly think that Asians should have kids with other Asians, and Norwegians should have kids with other Norwegians.

A ton of goddamn Texans drive huge trucks around, burning precious, expensive fuel, which costs $4.75 at least now. With gas prices on the rise, people are having to ditch their cars and ride the bus, or ride their bikes to work. But seriously, who rides a bike 26 miles to get to work?
Everything is about money here. Money money money money money. Goddamn. “Get a good education.” “Why?” “So you can go to a good college, get a good job, and make a lot of MONEY.” How about, “Live your life to the fullest. Not everything is about money.” That would sound better.

A lot of the teens really need to get their butts kicked. I’m not talking about any fobs (people who are fresh off the boat), or smart people, which isn’t really a lot. I’m talking about the stupid teens who think they are gangster, the druggies and the emos. All the “gangsters” do is cause trouble, steal things…bully people. The druggies skip school, bringing the stupidity upon themselves, doing drugs, messing up their brains. The emos sit at home, cry about nothing and cut themselves. All of this is because the American parents are too lenient with their kids.

Kids get younger and younger as they watch R movies. It used to be, “Oh my god, a 15-year-old is going to watch an R movie.” Now it’s, “A 7-year-old is watching ‘The 40-Year-Old Virgin.’ That’s totally normal.” I knew a kid that played God of War in Kindergarten. I now know a 2nd grader who gets sworn at on Xbox live because he kicks butt. Plus he watched his brother play GTA: San Andreas. (Who thinks that kid won’t have problems when he gets older?)

Tree huggers have a right to protest. The population in the world is getting out of control. Construction companies are cutting down trees to make way for houses. How will we live without oxygen? You should know by now, (if you’ve had a middle-school level education) that animals take in oxygen and turn it into carbon dioxide. You should also know that plants take in carbon dioxide and turn it into oxygen. If we get more animals (humans), and fewer plants (trees), what do you think will happen? We’ll have to colonize on Mars, or the moon, or something. Let’s just hope something like “Alien” doesn’t happen.

Compare the world today to the world in the past. I didn’t live in the past, so I don’t know how it felt, but I’m pretty dang sure it’s better than the world is today…other than the child labor, slaves…mass reproduction…rape…

Now that I think about it, I think the world would be better off as one place dominated by one group of people. That way, there’d be no such thing as third-world countries, because America would be sharing its wealth. Every country today would become its own state with its own governors. I know what I’m talking about is a communism, but I think it’d be better for the world.

Note: These are only opinions. After sharing these thoughts with my friends, I realized I was being “racist” and “stereotypical” and I needed to “think my views over.”
When I had written this, I was pretty pissed at what was going on around me and I felt like I needed to write something about it. But when people shot me down for what I thought…
They were just being jerks.
I intend no offense in anything I write. If any of this has offended you, I apologize.

I really dislike this stereotype. It’s about as accurate as the stereotype that all Americans eat Big Macs everyday and are obese, or that black people have big…cars…. It’s about as accurate as the stereotype that all Indians work customer service for Microsoft, or that blondes are dumb. It’s about as accurate as the stereotype that all Mexicans can jump high and run fast, or that all Asians can play the piano. Like most stereotypes, this stereotype is WRONG. It only applies to a certain num ber of Asians; I would say about 45%. That’s nowhere near all.

But of course, I am one of the many in that 45%. I play the piano, I play the violin, and I could do well in school if I tried. But just because I can do these things doesn’t mean that all other Asians can.

First: the birth of Jimmy. One day on a typical family trip to the beach, I was walking along the edge of the water and saw a perfectly round, gray and spotted rock. I picked it up and studied it, turning it over in my hands. I brought it back to where my parents were lounging and asked them if I could keep it. They acquiesced without looking up from their books. I played with the rock until we had to leave, and all the way home. As soon as I stepped inside, I ran upstairs into the office to look for a red magic marker. When I found it, I drew a smiling face on the rock. I couldn’t think of a proper name for the rock, so I set out to do my chores and homework. When I finished, I started watching late-night comedy shows. Then Jimmy Kimmel started. I came to an epiphany as I looked over at my rock. Jimmy. It was perfect.

Jimmy was absolutely the greatest friend because he was such a good listener. Countless times I would come home from a horrible day at school and just talk to Jimmy. I would talk and talk and talk and he would never interrupt. Plus, Jimmy would never make fun of me, unlike those despicable kids at school.

Other than Jimmy’s incredible ability to listen, I also loved him for his indestructible nature. I remember once when I asked Jimmy to say something if he didn’t want to fly through a window. He didn’t say anything so I threw him through the window. A teacher found me holding Jimmy and dragged me to the principal’s office. The principal was told what had happened by the teacher and called my parents, who showed up within minutes. As soon as my parents found out what I had done, the principal suspended me. My parents gave me the “death glare” and I reluctantly followed them to the car. My parents reprimanded me on the car ride home and beat me before grounding me after arriving home. As I sat in my room, I yelled at Jimmy for not doing anything and I got so angry I threw him through another window. When my parents found the broken window and asked me about it, I told them a squirrel ran up and broke it by punching it. Of course, my parents didn’t believe me, and they beat me again and doubled my grounding.
With death there is life, and with the death of Jimmy came the life of the sane part of my brain. I carried Jimmy everywhere I went. To school, from school, to swim practice (my trunks had pockets), to bed each night, I would carry him.

One day, going home from school, I was walking across a bridge while tossing Jimmy up and down. As I threw him higher and higher, the wind grew stronger and stronger. Eventually, I threw him and with wind pushed him off-course, over the railing and into the water. I screamed in horror as I crossed the bridge as quickly as I could, went to the riverbank and started kicking the water in the belief that I could hurt it.
“You took Jimmy! Give him back, you meaniehead!” I screamed, sobbing. I looked down and noticed my pant legs were also crying. Later I realized pant legs couldn’t cry, and they were wet from me kicking the water. I kept kicking the water until I became tired, so I sat down underneath a tree nearby and cried. I cried and cried, sadness filling the pit of my stomach. Eventually I got tired of crying so I walked home.

Soon afterward, my parents bought me a puppy. Once I was trying to bring back old memories by throwing random objects at a window. I saw my puppy nearby and picked it up, preparing my launch. My parents caught me and told me to put it down, saying that the dog was for dinner. I didn’t know what they meant, but we had delicious soup that night.

I miss Jimmy. Writing this really worked up some emotions. I really wish I could have another friend as memorable as Jimmy. When I think about the past, nostalgia simply overwhelms me.

The muffin was his breakfast. But what is a breakfast? Is it not merely a meal that you eat in the morning? It may be, but you must also know, that this was around eleven o’ clock in the morning. His dinner the night before must have been at around seven. That’s a sixteen hour period. I want to say that he didn’t eat until lunchtime, which would have been ethical, but we stopped at an Office Depot and he ran across the street to a Shell where he bought a pack of mini-donuts. But for him—this muffin was a relief. The muffin was the one thing in his possession that could stop his hunger. And yet he gave it up, all because he saw a man holding a cardboard sign, standing on the sidewalk. What he felt for a moment was empathy. He wondered what it would be like—standing outside on a cold day, owning nothing but the clothes on your back, the backpack behind you, and the piece of cardboard in your hand—being hungry for more than forty-eight hours straight. All of this went through his head during the split second where the guy with the glasses had stopped smiling to think for a second. Then, almost reluctantly, he picked up his treasure and held it out for the impecunious man to take.

But why do I remember this so clearly? Is it because it was something I’d never seen before? Is it because I didn’t expect that person to give up something that seemed so important to him? Or did it just stick in my mind because it set an example for me to follow? It is, quite honestly, all of the above. Before this happened, I had only heard about those who gave their food to people who they knew couldn’t repay them. I really didn’t expect this guy, someone I knew fairly well, to donate to those in need. And looking at what he had done made me realize that everybody should help those in need, whether they deserve it or not.