Thursday, April 4, 2013

Never Forget


Never Forget
An original poem by Gfish
Based on a true story

I went to the bathroom
To take a dump,


My phone in my pocket,
A sturdy lump.


But it was not secure,
And it fell with a plop.


My heart skipped a beat,
My stomach did a drop.


I thought it’d be okay,
That I could get it out,


When the automatic flush
Sent it whirling about.


Down the pipe
It did disappear.


The empty bowl
Confirming my fear.


Gone
Right before my eyes

Now down in the sewer,
It cries.


Never Forget. 


Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Care Packages

My mom sent me a pegasus. And a unicorn. She is officially the coolest. 



Getting a package in college can transform a crappy day it into a good day; it can take an average day and turn it into an excellent day; it can turn a good day into the grandest hula-pa-wowza fiesta of days that you will think back to three days from then just to remember how great it was. I'm not sure what kind of day would birth from an already excellent day. My guess is that the universe would collapse in on itself, leaving only a giant gas-based mass of jubilation. You would also probably lose all feeling in your toes. Speculation, of course.



In my time at college, I've gotten a decent amount of care packages. Most come from my mom, but I've also gotten one from my aunt and sister. I'm not going to lie, my favorite part about getting a care package is the food. Sure, I am fully capable of buying my own food from the grocery store. Food just tends to be less special when you have to go out and buy it yourself. Food from a package, however, is like a magical apparition of everything you were just craving, without knowing you were craving it. You don't feel bad about eating everything that day because hey, it's not like you bought that food to eat for later. It's yours for right now. Or whenever you want. All yours, and nobody else's. Mwa haha.

Getting a care package grants you instant bragging rights. You can walk through the common room with your neat little box and everyone's curious and openly hoping it's something you're going to share. Odds are you will share some, but it's still yours. You have someone elsewhere who is sending you things and not sending your friends things and that makes you better than them for the moment. You have the power now, and if those vultures want your precious, delicious food (because we all know it's mostly candy), they're going to have to accept that. Cue the additional mwa ha has.

I have sent a few care packages in my day, mostly to my sister, and it's pretty exciting. You can add cute little notes and colorful fillers and decorate it however you want. Then you wait for a while and forget you sent it before you finally get an excited phone call or text a few days later. The phone call is always the best because it's usually right after they've opened the package and so they're at their happiest.

Anyway, I guess this post doesn't really have a point. I just get really excited by care packages.

If you know someone who lives really far away or who you haven't seen in a while, why not send them a package? It'll make their day and when they let you know they got it you'll be able to reconnect.

Some package tips from the gfish:

-Add a note. Food is wonderful and all, but a note makes it a bit more personal.
-Food can be personal too. Find out what makes their mouth water and just shove as much of it as physically possible into that box. Like seriously. As much as you can without pulling your back out.
-Guilty pleasure foods are nice. Food they'd feel bad buying at the grocery store because it's unhealthy or unnecessary for their daily diet.
-I usually add a poem or drawing.
-Inside jokes. I don't know you. I don't know your jokes. But I'm sure someone does.
-Filler candy for munching on while looking at the other things.
-Anything nostalgia-based.

You don't have to spend a lot of money to send a heartfelt package. The excitement of getting that notification that you have something is often enough all on it's own. Just don't go around sending empty packages... because that's not what I meant. People could get upset. Now stop twisting my words, damnit!


Friday, October 5, 2012

I Have Needs

There's a fine line between needing something and wanting something. You need water. You need nutrients. You need sleep. For living purposes. An ipod? A cookie? A snow cone machine? Those are wants.

Now that we've established that basic principle, let me tell you about something I need.

A pegasus.

It's crucial to my survival.

...

What? You don't believe me? You think it's just something I want? Well, no. It's not. I need a pegasus.

Now let me tell you why:

1. Self-defense. I am a tiny person. My greatest method of protecting myself from oncoming dangers is flailing my arms and ducking behind other people. If I had a pegasus, nobody would even consider messing with my shit. I mean think about it. How intimidating would that be? A flying horse with a gorgeous mane whipping in the wind coming at you with a massive front kick of pure fury. Without such a method of self-defense, I will most definitely die. From stabs.

2. Quests: A lot of times I am given tasks that would be very difficult to accomplish without a pegasus. I mean, what if Poseidon asks me to retrieve something from a floating castle in the sky because he isn't allowed to leave his ocean realm to get it himself? I could imagine that Poseidon would be very angry if I failed him because of something stupid like not being able to get there. I would be killed for such silliness.

3. Sickness Prevention: Sometimes it rains and I don't have an umbrella. With a pegasus, I could turn to him and be all, yo help me out, bro. And BAM. Instant rain protection. Cause, you know... I could catch a cold... and die.

4. More Health Reasons: If I'm late to something important, running to make it in time can lead to many awful things happening. I could get overheated and die. I could run into someone and break my neck. I could trip from exhaustion and get run over by a landscaper on a lawnmower who was distracted from his current path of lawn mowing by a chubby squirrel falling out of a tree. Needless to say, if I had a pegasus take me to my destination, I would not only make it in time, but I wouldn't die.

5. Short People Problems: Let's get something straight here. I'm not short. I am, however, extremely average sized. This means I can't get things in tall places. What if I'm reaching for the extra towels I store on the top shelf and my five hundred pound trophy for being the most gangster blogger in the universe falls on me? I could die. With a pegasus... well I'd be able to reach the towel without pulling everything on the shelf down with it.

6. Friendship: This is a need. Come at me. Without friendship I would be super lonely and sad. Being sad can't be good for your health, and I'm 78% certain that it lowers your lifespan. So yeah. Having a pegasus friend would make me infinitely happy, and therefore I would never die.

7. FOR SCIENCE: This need isn't for me. It's for society. So little is known about pegasi in the scientific community, and I believe that a lot can be learned from them. It could help improve designs for air travel and save lives. If I had a pegasus, I wouldn't mind letting scientists study him for a few minutes every couple of weeks. I mean, my pegasus and I are going to be busy. I can't promise away all our time. We got things to do.

I am a woman and I have needs.

*I did not draw this pegasus. 

Unrelated side note: If you're wondering why the quality of my drawings has changed recently, it's because I don't really have a computer mouse anymore. Drawing is a bit more challenging with the mouse-pad. 

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Sunglasses

Sometimes sunglasses make me feel like I'm super hot stuff. Like I've got better things to do than make eye contact with people.

Most of the time, however, sunglasses make me feel invisible.

When I walk past people I know when wearing sunglasses, they don't seem to notice me. Sure, maybe if it only happened once or twice I'd just figure that the people I passed were zoned out or didn't see me... but it's become a consistent trend. Every time I wear sunglasses, the majority of friends that I pass completely look past my existence and keep on walking unless I use unnecessary arm flails to flag down their attention.

It's making me paranoid. What about wearing sunglasses makes me look so different? Is it the change in my appearance that creates the barrier of invisibility? Or maybe people actually can't see me. What if... and this may be a bit of a stretch... but what if putting on sunglasses really does turn me invisible?

It's possible, right?

I refuse to believe that people simply do not wave hello to me just because they see I'm wearing sunglasses, and it's just plain weird that putting on sunglasses could make me that unrecognizable. Therefore, the only other logical explanation would be that my sunglasses have the ability to eliminate me from my peers' field of vision.




Yeah, ok. Unrealistic explanation. But still, it's a weird phenomenon and I don't like it. For now I guess I'll just stick to excessive squinting in bright sunlight so as to not confuse people.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

True Story





























Um... that turned out... uhhhh. Rage. Okay. That was a lot funnier in my head. I swear. 

Anyway... that was my summer, give or take a few minor details. Getting out of that situation was a bit trickier than getting into it... but you know how it is. Give the Zombie Reaper Overlord a few hundred Lucky Charm marshmallows and he'll help you out of any pickle. 

Sometimes stuff happens in life that you can never see coming. Everything you thought your day, your week, your summer was going to be ends up completely different. It may be disastrous.. or it could be absolutely amazing. I guess in my case you could say it was a bit of both.

Also, just so you know, I fully expect to be addressed as GFISH, KNIGHT OF POSEIDON'S FISHY KINGDOM from now on.  

Sunday, July 1, 2012

2:00AM Bug-bite Roll-call

You may not know this about me... but I am allergic to bug bites. Either that, or I'm constantly being bitten by venomous hate-bugs that leave baseball-sized itch lumps on my skin. Maybe I'm just a hate-bug magnet.

Whenever I complain about bug-bites, which is A LOT, most people horrendously fail at making me feel better. Sure, I am well aware that nothing they say or do can help relieve the merciless itching that comes from 17 bug-bites on my legs (YES, I COUNTED EXACTLY 17), but still. I enjoy making people aware of my pain and then commenting sarcastically in my head when their responses fall flat of usefulness.

  

***


***


***And my all time favorite***


I'm not going to wear bug spray every time I step outside. No. That stuff is gross, sticky, smelly, and doesn't even work half the time. 

Anyway... I am fully aware that complaining about bug bites is just a way to beg for half-hearted pity from my friends and family... but hey. I don't have much else going on right now. When people ask me what's on my mind during the summer, when I hardly do anything other than sleep until twelve and pig out on whatever is laying around the house... dealing with itchy bug bites is honestly the most interesting thing to talk about. At least, for me it is. It's what I think about nearly all day as I try not to scratch and lather on the itch-X. In any case, I appreciate the efforts people put in to trying to make me feel better, despite my inner cynicism. I'm really just upset about the itchiness. I'm honestly glad my friends don't just blatantly say, "SHUT UP, GFISH. NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR FREAKISHLY WEIRD BUG BITES." 

Also, for some reason all of my bug-bites seem to ignite in itchiness at exactly 2:00AM. I'm not sure why, but at 2:00AM on the dot for the past two nights since I've gotten these bites, I've woken up and couldn't stop scratching. Maybe I've discovered the Hour of the Bites, when all bug-bites awaken to cause the ultimate chaos. It appears I've stumbled across some age-old ritual of blood sucking tradition. A coincidence time-bomb of discomfort. I must look into this revelation tonight, when 2:00AM rolls around and I once again get the urge to chop my legs off with a nail file.