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| Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Stitch |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie!          Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Okay, we do understand that "memoirs" is a French derived word for "memories", and that "autobiographical" means that it's a true story about my life, right?
Middle school was a blur. A confusing blur, but a blur nonetheless. It was a time of discovery, which for me, meant that I had figured out that my classmates--particularly the boys--were little hotties. This hindered my ability to dress out for PE in front of the other boys. Our school colors were blue and white. I wore blue sweat pants, a white shirt, and a blue zip-up hoodie every single day to school. My nickname for all three years of middle school became "Smurf", despite the fact that I was taller than most of my other classmates. At first, I enjoyed the sweaty musk of the boys, watching them undress and horseplay in that dimly lit box of a locker room, stretch and strain their young muscles--some already sporting the muscular, toned definition that would become more prominent in their later years--and diverting my glance every so often for fear that I'd be caught. That I'd be labelled a "queer", "fag" or otherwise. I hadn't come to terms with it yet, so I labelled myself "bi-sexual" to deal with it. I still liked to hang out with the girls, but I was mostly a loner--by choice. I talked to myself a lot, and I still do despite the fact that it has waned off and is mostly confined to my head now. I had categories of hotness for the guys. I also had my first long-standing hate developing. The nemesis that would follow me through high school, only to disappear after graduation. A budding hate that would spark fears after Columbine. "Buff round." "Bruce Lee buff." "Lickably hott." These were few among the many classifications for the varying degree of muscle that the boys exhibited. I thoroughly enjoyed watching the older boys play basketball. Thankfully, I had developed a bunion on my left foot, and could fake severe pain. I could also fake an asthma attack among myriad ailments. For three years, I sat out of all the baseball games, basketball games, and some track sessions. I walked around the field, with the girls, during jungle ball. Suffering a barrage of hits from random balls--once, while crossing the field, hit with a nerf ball, a nerf football, a soccerball, another football, a tennis ball, and the giant ball--only to stand near a goal and pretend to play. I served as umpire and catcher during the baseball games where I was forced to play. I served as referree for the basketball games. I was lap timer during mile-runs and other track events. I killed in touch football, tennis, badminton, and volleyball. I, whether I knew it or not, was gay. On rainy afternoons, we all gathered in the multipurpose room behind the boys' and girls' locker rooms. The rooms were split; girls got to watch whathaveyou while the boys had to watch sports bloopers. Eight graders sat in chairs along the back walls. Seventh graders got benches in the middle of the room. Sixth graders got to sit on wrestling mats towards the front of the room. Joy. As an eight grader, I was so happy to get a co-ed class, and a position to watch the other older guys around me. The younger kids just weren't that hot. On certain days, we had indoor time that required us to either do Tae Bo or some other aerobic workout to a video. I excelled at this, as well. Made the boys make fun of me, but I didn't care. An A was an A. There was a kid that would steal my wallet out of my backpack every day around second period, and returned it in tact just before lunch. I figured out years later, that he wasn't being a pest to me. He was hitting on me in the only way that schoolyard boys knew how...to torment the person you love. Sad to say, he was ugly by my standards. He moved from the city shortly after eighth grade promotion, and I never saw him again. I didn't attend the eighth grade trip to Disneyland. But, I did attend the eighth grade trip to Washington D.C. All eight of us. That was an awesome trip, but we'll touch on that later on. Back to my gayness. All I could think about all summer before ninth grade was the hot, muscular bodies of the upperclassmen. The budding sexualities and hormones of the guys and girls. The exhilaration of a new campus, new friends, a merging of the Alondra Intermediate School kids and the Clearwater Middle School kids. The clash of the underclassmen was about to begin, and all I could think about was PE and the locker room. (Last edited by Zabuza on 01-14-06 09:13 PM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Since I'm about to take a shower:
Body: 1. Lather 2. Wash 3. Rinse 4. Repeat until complete body done. Head: 1. Lather 2. Wash 3. Rinse Face: 1. Lather 2. Exfoliate 3. Wash 4. Treat 5. Rinse 6. Shave 7. Wash 8. Treat. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| NO! NOT THE EVIL CLOWN PIE! ANYTHING BUT THAT! | |||
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Ooh, Breakfast At Tiffany's was such a nice movie. And, Sabrina. We mustn't forget Sabrina.
And picking up Tracy from school. We mustn't forget to take the pills and pick up Tracy from school. LA AUTO SHOW!! |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| No, I soak in baths as well.
1. Lay there. 2. Drain the water. 3. Take shower. I'm usually all pruny by then, but being my gay nature, the bath is usually filled with bath salts and bubble bath thingies. Sometimes, I have nice aromatic candles going too. Then, I shower. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Well, thank you. Moving on...
The locker room was a different story. I could dress out in about five minutes flat. In and out, and ready to go. I found out instantly that freshmen--as well as queer boys--were instantly the prey of the upperclassmen. So, I made a point not to blatantly stare. I'd save that for the field. This was also about the time when I discovered someone who would become both my best friend, and later on, my enemy. Rogelio C. Tadeo. Rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? He was an outcast and a pop culture icon. I developed a crush for him as well, but that one took time. He was in every single one of my core classes. English first period. Science second period. Health fifth period. Math sixth period. My third period was reserved for Orchestra, while fourth period was PE. When our school had two lunch periods, I occupied second lunch after fourth period. He had first lunch after third period. Somehow, the schedule worked, until my Junior year, when we became the Senior campus. Clearwater Middle School was renamed, and became the Paramount High School Freshmen Academy, effectively splitting the school between two campuses. Effectively creating a new breed of runts to taunt--the Sophomores. We had a love/hate friendship. Tugging at each other, secretly pissing each other off, creating a rivalry that still holds true until today. I'd protect him from any danger still, only because his death shall be conducted by my hands alone. He was an odd character. Short, muscular, filipino boy, scruffy face, glasses, moderately intelligent, could hold his own. I was the brains of the outfit, so to speak. He was a shell. Created an emotional wall for himself so that he wouldn't have to suffer anything. I did respect him, at first, but it all just went down the drain a few years after high school graduation. He was marching band. I was orchestra. He was a band jock. I was a dorkestra nerd. He was the muscle, I was the brawn. We were both science club. He was yin, I was yang. He would fail in some assignment, and I'd get the A and gloat. He'd excel in PE, and he'd gloat towards me. We were quite the team. He secretly wanted to kill me; as did I. Other than that, freshmen year was pretty uneventful. High school blends together, and I pretty much only remember my Junior and Senior years. I spent the better half of my last two years as a student librarian, vice-president of the Science Club, senior editor for the Science Club newspaper, historian for the orchestra, and liaison between my interests and that of the school. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I don't understand how you can merge two different forums. One's a bitch rant forum (Sunset) and the other is a discussion forum (Debate). It wouldn't make sense to merge the two, because we wouldn't be able to tell which threads are debates and which threads are opinionated thingies.
My vote stands at No. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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Originally posted by High Flyin' Ryan Trillian is not at fault because you've overrun your computer with unnecessary software that can't accurately assess the status of your programs. READ: Your computer sucks. Anyway, uninstall the crap and just leave Spybot on there for spyware. Activate the resident TeaTimer thing, and that'll accurately detect spyware. Remove your antivirus thingy (if you so choose) and download AVG Free Edition; the better freeware and self-updating FREE solution to corporate Norton and McAfee. You realize that your situation is unique just to you. I don't have problems with Trillion, neither at work nor at home. It loads fine. It doesn't conflict with my firewall (ZoneAlarm Free Edition), my antivirus (AVG Free Edition), or my spyware detection programs (Spybot--Search & Destroy). It loads fine, and best of all, it hides in the system tray so that it doesn't interfere with my desktop space. Stop knocking the benefits of freeware and the GNU movement, and get on the bandwagon. Your computer needs a desperate cleansing. I run dual-boot machines (Linux, UNIX, and Windows XP/98 combinations) all throughout my household, and they all run fine with Trillian. But then, they do have me as their primary computer technician. Trillian's been around for a while, and it's actually the better of the IM clients, if you don't want two or more individual IM clients on your computer. But, since it is freeware, there are granted that there will be bugs. If you disable the Active X properties through Internet Exploder that Trillian uses to function, then obviously it won't work. Again, all of your computers just seem to be running too many unnecessary processes in the background, which may be why you're having so much difficult with one of the best programs in the world. Period. But, I know it's hard when you don't have a former hacker as your computer tech. Anywho, enough of my pandering myself to everyone, I'll just enjoy that Trillian works on my computers and be done with it. Trillian usually works better if you uninstall the other messenger clients, as well. And remember: no program on this planet is 100% bug proof. Unless, it's just like two lines of code. But, that may be the only exception. I find bugs for a living, so I know that no program is every released 100% bug free. They're release 90 to 95% bug free. And, Trillian can be set to autoupdate itself, to help with eradication of those nasty little bugs that seem to plaguing your Windoze-based machines. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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Originally posted by Xeo You can't trust the poll, Xeo. You know that some people vote just to screw with other people. Hell, Rogue voted for Bush only to cancel out Zoso's vote for Kerry. I've voted in opposites as well just to throw off the validity of polls. It's nice to introduce the polling system, but without an implicit discussion on your reasons for voting, you can't base a huge decision as this on just a graphical poll. Or, is it that you just really want to use "The Alcatraz" for something? How 'bout rename "Game Over" as that? It still fits. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Understand this:
Luggage is meant to be abused. It's abused when it's being manufactured to ensure that it can withstand being in a travel environment. If you choose to spend $1500 on some Louis Vuitton bag (ugly brown craps) because you want to show off your money, then fine. Just understand that your $1500 investment might be returned to you with a cut-off lock, possibly a zipper tab or two missing, and maybe a few dents, tears, scratches or other things. It's luggage, for gosh sakes. What do you think happens to your bags? Did you think they were pampered by the airline? NO! They are stacked in rows and piles after you drop them off. They fall off conveyors into bigger bins of other luggage. They get moved all over the airport only to be stacked into an airplane's cargo hold for a flight. They shift and bend under the combined weights of G-forces and other luggage. They arrive at your destination only to be jostled around again a few more times until they reach you. Hell, what TSA does to it is so menial, it can't even amount to the stress your bag undergoes. It is luggage, it is meant to be able to withstand the inherent stresses of travel. If it can't do that, then it shouldn't be travelling. And, if it's valuable and breakable and fits in carry-on, TAKE IT WITH YOU! If not, ship it to where you're going, or pack it really well so that TSA doesn't have to accidentally break it. Even though, if the package is too good that TSA can't inspect, then it will be removed for inspection and repacked. Luggage is luggage. Deal with it. Quit blaming the TSA for your airline's stupid faults. (Last edited by Zabuza on 01-16-06 08:07 PM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Maybe the movie was just too complicated for a simple minded individual such as yourself. Perhaps you'd find stapling your butt to your hand a bit more amusing than the trials and tribulations of a geisha.
Oh, and if any of these words are too intelligent for you, I can dumb it down to retard. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| You see the special features where Jackie Chan sings that song in his native (either) Chinese or Cantonese, or I think both versions.
So much better. I don't know, but your threads so far just seem so spammy, or like you're on some kind of pot-induced high. J, you are so disappointing right now... Where did that person whom did stuff go? Did he get eaten by the Mulan monster? Did he watch Mulan II? Does he wonder why I wear sunglasses, indoors, at the office, at night? Too bad Disney put the Mulan movie in THE VAULT*end ominous music and echo*.(Last edited by Zabuza on 01-17-06 02:08 AM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I'm a QA Technician--the fancy, industry terminology for Game Tester for JAMDAT Mobile (soon to be EA Mobile in February). I test games like the DOOM RPG on the expensive LG VX 8100 cell phone, and some other games that aren't out yet.
I have worked for JAKKS Pacific, Inc., Activision Publishing, Disneyland Resort, the Transportation Security Administration, and Tower Records. Not in that order. Oh, well, back to work. (Last edited by Zabuza on 01-17-06 02:15 AM) |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I spent several hours this afternoon dismantling the network of phone cables (categorized as CAT-3) throughout my home just to liberate the DSL modem so that it could function. I also removed several devices that I didn't need. With the advent of the DSL comes the ability to surf the net while waiting for important calls from Mexico.
My aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago. She had undergone all kinds of cancer therapies over the years. The last time I saw her was eight years ago, when we flew out to Mexico for my grandmother's funeral. She died around 4:00 this afternoon. I received the phone call while wedged underneath my desk amongst a pile of phone and power cables. I had to break the news to my mom, whom was in the bathroom at the time. I was broken. The DSL was working, but I wasn't. I don't know. I really wanted to see her this time. A month ago, we got the phone call that her condition had gotten worse and that she might not make it to the new year. My cousins jokingly assured her that she wasn't allowed to die until after Christmas and after New Year's. She, at least, kept her promise. She was one of my favorite aunts. The nice one; the playful one; the one that ran an arcade and let me and my cousins play for free. She made churros for us, and often gave us back massages (she was the only one that knew best). And, now, she's gone. And, for lack of funding, I'm stuck here with no possibility of even attending the funeral. And, I'm at work, doing business as usual not trying to show my sadness. I want to cry, but I can't. And, I can't very well just save it up for another time. My mom cries everytime she mentions her death to other family members. My uncles were by her side when she passed; they had flown out on Friday evening. My grandfather was there as well. We're here. I knew the day was coming, but why did I have to take the call? I don't wanna seem heartless around my mom, but I just take the death a bit differently than she does. Yes, I loved my aunt very dearly, but I have duties and responsibilities during the day. I can't spend my days sobbing under my desk (I'm still cleaning and rearranging). Instead, I get to bottle it up. I guess that's why Disney movies lately (all of them) cause me to tear up. I can't even see a Disney-affiliated anything because of that. Oh, well, it begins. My mom just returned from Mexico. There's no money to go back. *sigh* |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| You're a girl!
And, you only live a few blocks away from Elara, and a few more from me. And, Oni is on the other side of the planet (practically), so you'll be able to see him on your way to/from school. I left close to a year ago, and Den Mommie still thinks I'm there somewhere. LBCC is great, but getting that degree is better. Love you and my Katamari! |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I have no soul.
I have no identity. Are these feelings even my own? Are these memories mine? I'm an empty shell waiting to be filled, waiting to be assigned, waiting to be "loved". Do I even understand what these feelings are? They are so alien to me, I don't think I can even begin to interpret them. Why am I so shattered? Where have I gone wrong? A world created in the void, set twenty-five years into the future, there sits the being that I want to become, sitting at a dining table across from his love. Their personal chef walks in and places a steaming dish of something in front of the other man, but the man slowly disappears as the plate is set down. The chef, slightly stunned, shrugs his shoulders, picks up the plate and returns to the kitchen. Somewhere across the city, my fifteen year old son stands in a park staring at his ID card. Slowly, both the memory of and the letters composing his hyphenated name start to dissolve. He is no longer the progeny of two, but now the progeny of me. He goes about his business, no longer having initials of SKAM, but initials of SKA. The house falls silent, and I sit, staring at the mound of food and at the empty chair across the table. The pictures around the house start morphing, slowly erasing any traces of him. He has ceased to exist as a possibility in that world, and everything referring to him is coming to a demise. I start to eat. Are these my hands? Is this really my house? My car? My job? My life? Or, has it all been fabricated in an immense laboratory somewhere for the amusement of some rich man? Is this karmic retribution for all those hacking things I did? The people that I was rude to? Anything against the norm that I have done? Am I destined not to be happy? Is that it? Is that the devine plan? IS IT!? The dark side is starting to look quite good now. Maybe I've been a gray too long. Maybe it's time to go back. Maybe... Ian declared that my pursuit of him is a waste of time. Being me is too much of a turn-off for him. My aunt passed away yesterday afternoon. Our rent has been raised. The family doesn't trust each other. Jack needs an oil change. I've not lost the will to live. No, they can never have that. I just feel that possibly becoming an emotionless being and never opening my heart up to anyone is the path to go. Now, excuse me while I cower beneath me desk and cry. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| I have no soul.
I have no identity. Are these feelings even my own? Are these memories mine? I'm an empty shell waiting to be filled, waiting to be assigned, waiting to be "loved". Do I even understand what these feelings are? They are so alien to me, I don't think I can even begin to interpret them. Why am I so shattered? Where have I gone wrong? A world created in the void, set twenty-five years into the future, there sits the being that I want to become, sitting at a dining table across from his love. Their personal chef walks in and places a steaming dish of something in front of the other man, but the man slowly disappears as the plate is set down. The chef, slightly stunned, shrugs his shoulders, picks up the plate and returns to the kitchen. Somewhere across the city, my fifteen year old son stands in a park staring at his ID card. Slowly, both the memory of and the letters composing his hyphenated name start to dissolve. He is no longer the progeny of two, but now the progeny of me. He goes about his business, no longer having initials of SKAM, but initials of SKA. The house falls silent, and I sit, staring at the mound of food and at the empty chair across the table. The pictures around the house start morphing, slowly erasing any traces of him. He has ceased to exist as a possibility in that world, and everything referring to him is coming to a demise. I start to eat. Are these my hands? Is this really my house? My car? My job? My life? Or, has it all been fabricated in an immense laboratory somewhere for the amusement of some rich man? Is this karmic retribution for all those hacking things I did? The people that I was rude to? Anything against the norm that I have done? Am I destined not to be happy? Is that it? Is that the devine plan? IS IT!? The dark side is starting to look quite good now. Maybe I've been a gray too long. Maybe it's time to go back. Maybe... Ian declared that my pursuit of him is a waste of time. Being me is too much of a turn-off for him. My aunt passed away yesterday afternoon. Our rent has been raised. The family doesn't trust each other. Jack needs an oil change. I've not lost the will to live. No, they can never have that. I just feel that possibly becoming an emotionless being and never opening my heart up to anyone is the path to go. Now, excuse me while I cower beneath me desk and cry. |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Bah, I could care less. Disable the layouts (like I do) and you don't see that. So, you have to scroll, big deal. Quit yer whinin', youngin.
We just want everything handed on a platter to us, don't we? "Where the bad layouts gather" Well, I spit on whomever said that. Why the hell do you care about what other people think? Why does everyone seem to care about what other people think? I say, screw them, I'm going home. So there.  |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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Bored, well check these out:
More Lego Escher Another Escher Lego You have to really look at each image and notice things that overlap and flow in ways that shouldn't work in real life. I'm surprised it was reproduced in Lego. Don't blame me if your eyes hurt. Image Search for MC Escher |
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Stitch Roy Koopa Holy crap, it is the RoboCoonie! Since: 08-20-04 From: California Since last post: 946 days Last activity: 946 days |
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| Or, you could just disable the layouts if they're bothering you so much.
Like I tell my mom, if the mess bothers you, don't look at it. |
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| Xeogaming Forums - - Posts by Stitch |
