What is this I don't even

So I don't have anything particularly exciting to blog about. But I've already written a post about writer's block, and I've rambled endlessly about nothing numerous times, so I will have to think of something else.
I will go look through the pictures on my computer, and see if there's a good one to write about.

    Okay.  What the hell is this? Why is it here? I DON'T RECOGNIZE THIIIISSS. I don't even know what to call it. At first I thought it was a knife, but then I enlarged the picture and it doesn't look like a knife. It resembles an anvil. Kinda. And there's a noose involved.
Huh.

Oh, great, more mysterious unknown pictures.

This one appears to be a book of some sort. Or a box. Whatever it is, it is very colorful, and colorful is usually good (Unless the "colorful" object being discussed is a clown. Clowns are bad. Always horrendously bad.)

 Oh goody, there's more!

Bloomingdale's? Whyyyy do I have this? I never searched for this.
It's not even that pretty. I don't like it.

WHO ARE YOU FACELESS PEOPLE?? I don't know you.  I never searched for you, or downloaded your picture, or anything. What do you want from meeeee??

Here we have last, and definitely least....A pair of plain ol' boring pearl earrings. I'm not into pearls. Too June Cleaver or something. So WHY is there a picture of them on my computer??

Now that I really look at them...those are kinda ugly. They are oddly shaped pearl things with nothing fancy on them. No offense to you pearl-lovers, that's cool if you like them. I just don't wear them. They're all...round...and white...and not really that shiny. I do however, like black pearls. Black makes pretty much everything better.

Wow. That was really weird. I had no idea these pictures were on my computer. Now I know they're HERE, but how did they GET here?
In that same file was my previous Facebook profile picture, along with the previous profile pictures of my mother, my sister, my fiance, and my friend Amber. Why? WHYYYYY??

Has someone been creeping around my computer, downloading pictures of cakes, books, earrings, newlyweds, and mysterious knife/anvil-like objects?
Has a mysterious stranger been creeping on my friends and family?

I'm scared. O.O
Oh crap.
I think I forgot to take my pills.
IT'S 2 AM.
I'm not sleepy. Seriously like, at all.
It's going to be a very long night.

Those Magic Changes

Ehehehehe, I named this post after a song that basically seems to be about puberty. This amuses me more than it should.

I realized I have not blogged this blog lately.
I have decided to give this blog an actual name, which I have never bothered to do. Shame upon me. But not too much, it could crush me flat.
I never use my Tumblr, but I like the name of my Tumblr, so Imma steal that name (The name, not the url. The url is the same as this one. Except Tumblr, not Blogspot. Creative, ain't I?)

The title is actually named after a Flyleaf EP that I don't have. I have the albums Flyleaf and Memento Mori. I didn't care to name my blog after the band itself, and Memento Mori (Basically, "Remember you will die") could be seen as morbid. And while I do have a love for darker music and such (I have a friend who calls me emo. I am nowhere near emo. XD) I am not seen as morbid. Plus, this is, first and foremost, a humor blog, about my life. You don't title a humor blog about life "Remember You Will Die". While that title could actually be seen in a positive light, I doubt most people would see it that way.
SO I go with something that actually sounds happy.
YAY FOR HAPPY, I LIKE HAPPY. (Which is why I obviously would fail at being emo. I would totally be gothic though. Goths are excellent, and are really not generally worshipers of Satan. Stupid stereotype is stupid.)
I also changed the picture. It is now my brother, my sister, my mom, and me at Berry Springs Park. My other sister was the one taking the picture, so while you can't see her, she is still there. Waaatchiiiing.
Anyway. I'm sort of getting ideas for a new actual post.
WAIT NO, I THINK I'LL CHANGE MY THEME FIRST.
That way...this can be a post not only about my new title, but also about other new stuff. :O

Like, see where it used to say "Followers (Stalkers)"? It now says, "All My Little Ducklings". 'Cause ducklings follow. GET IT GET IT?

I thought about changing the layout, but this is the only layout I like. I went with a totally new template to build off of (I could do better if I knew codes and such, but I don't, so I won't). It's raining now. I freaking love rain.
GAH IT WON'T RAIN WHERE I LIVE. It's spring. It's supposed to rain. But noooooo. It's all....SUNNY. -_____-

I changed my colors. I like dem.

So, as for new subjects...I have a video of a creepy toy in Wal*Mart that I could upload (It's already on Facebook) or I could blog about eye doctors. Or if those two subjects are already boring you to tears...I'm sorry, I'll try to think of something else.
I bet I won't even get a response on that. I either have very few readers, or a bunch of silent readers. If you're a silent reader...Speak up for crying out loud, you're making me nervous. O.o

It Is Always Morning in Hell

There are morning people. Morning people get up with the sun, and cheerfully stretch and yawn and smile, and revel in the glory of the sunrise and the hope of a new day. They eat a nutritious breakfast, and skip off to work or whatever, singing along with the happily chirping birdies as they wave at the mailman (Or if you're in my neighborhood, the mailman comes in the afternoon, so they have to wave at the trash guys instead).

But I'm not here to write about them. That's basically all I know about the strange ways of morning people.
People like myself prefer the mystery of the night, and occasionally dance around their front yard like a little fairy in the moonlight. They find starlight and night air intoxicating. It's silly to sleep when the world is so full of excellence. They go to sleep very very early in the morning. They prefer to sleep straight through the morning, and are much happier if allowed to do so.
If one disturbs a creature of the night's sleep cycle by having them work mornings, the nocturnal being tends to become pissed off, and generally cranky. Sure, they love their job. And once there, they don't mind, and forget that it is indeed still morning.
It's the getting up that's difficult. First, the alarm goes off. Alarms are terrible. THEY WAKE YOU UUUUUUPPPP. BY BEEPING. Or slightly less offensive weird noises, if you use your cell phone.
The sun has come up, and ruined all the lovely night air. The freaking birds won't shut up. If you have the misfortune of living with morning people. they wish you a cheerful, "Good Morning!". You rip their face off as you stagger past them to the bathroom.
HOLY CARP (yes, carp) THERE'S A MONSTER IN THE BATHROOM.
KILL IT. KILL IT WITH FI- Oh. No, no, that's just the mirror.
Now, this may not apply to all nocturnal humans, but I have noticed that most night people do not eat a nutritious breakfast. They have things like chocolate chip cookies, or a slice of mince pie and a Dr.Pepper. And no, this is not just me. My grandmother does it too (It is another observation of mine that elderly people rarely eat healthy. Eating healthy must not be all it's cracked up to be, 'cause hey, they made it this far).
Sometimes you have a particularly bad morning, where you keep dropping things, and hitting your elbows on stuff. You thought this was annoying? It could be worse. Maybe your car sounded funny. So you pull into the parking lot of the Chevron station around the corner from your house, turn the car off, and then attempt to turn it back on again. BUT IT DOESN'T TURN ON. Now you get to walk back home, and enlist the help of your also-barely-awake brother, and his ancient orange Malibu.
The Malibu deserves its own blog post, but since the Malibu is not my friend, I refuse to give it the satisfaction. The Malibu has been christened Ol' Stubborn Stanley.
Stanley runs. Barely. His doors don't stay open, and try to shut on your feet. Don't tip over on the seats. A giant cloud of seat will come up and attack your face (Seats really shouldn't come in clouds. O.o). He's slow. The needle on Stanley speedometer rocks back and forth you go over 40 mph. Actually, I don't even know if it's 40 mph. The needle was rocking back and forth at the time.  Stanley is too old to have a mirror on either side of the car, so the passenger cannot even make faces at herself, or check her hair. Ah well. It gives you more time to pray. Stanley probably runs on prayer more than anything else.
Having said all this, I suppose it is obvious that I hate riding in Stanley. Especially first thing in the morning.
See? SEEEEE how bad mornings can be? THEY'RE EVIL. They are the epitome of badness.
And that is why it is always morning in Hell (Except, presumably, for the morning people. Because then they'd like it there. And they'd be missing the whole point of eternal torment).                                                                                                                                                

Your Typical Doctor's Office

Hello. I am really freaking paranoid about doctors. And who isn't? THEY ARE EVIL. Only crazy evil obsessed people would spend all that time and money in medical school, doing whatever the heck it is they do in medical school.
I try to avoid seeing doctors at all costs. I will go to a doctor if, A) I am sick, and steadily getting worse rather than better, B) I need a vaccination, and a shot is better than *in hick accent* "dyin' uf lawckjaw" (Also known as Tetanus), or C) I AM FREAKING DYING.
So I really don't have a lot of experience with doctors.
I think that I will tell you about them anyway.

EVIL THINGS DOCTORS DO #1: THE WAITING ROOM

  The waiting room is full of crappy old magazines that you can SEE the germs crawling upon. Never ever touch these. Unless it is something funny, like People, or US Weekly, or The National Enquirer.
  There are a lot of people coughing in here. Sometimes, the people will cough so hard, their feet come up off the floor. You will probably end up sitting next to this person. In between coughs, this person will keep checking you out, even though you are sick and look terrible. And so do they.
  The waiting room also has television. The crappy sort of television that no one, aside from maybe the receptionists, would watch. You know SOMEBODY picks the channels. And the receptionists are the only ones who have to be out there. Therefore, it must be them.
  The waiting room, along with the rest of this awful place, has a distinct smell. The smell of doctors, and evil, and fear, and latex. And possibly fake plants. There are often fake plants everywhere. Because fake dusty plants are somehow calming.

#2: THE NURSES
  Nurses are not usually bad people. They are usually nice and friendly, and they weigh you, and do all that crap the good doctor is too busy to do.
  Sometimes, the nurse happens to be a friend of yours, and you actually kind of have fun, even though your friend is peering inside your mouth and ears with an itty bitty flashlight.
  But considering their chosen profession, these people cannot be all good. They stick uberlong Q-Tip thingies down your throat, looking for strep. And you make "Cat with the Hairball of a Lifetime" noises.
 Sometimes, they will also stick a similar uberlong Q-tip up your nose. They say they are looking for the flu. I think they really just enjoy it when the patient screams "OH GOD!" (Even if you thought you had laryngitis, you can clearly still scream) and yanks their head away. Or maybe they just like poking your brains. I'm pretty sure that's how far they stick that damn thing up there.
  The nurse will try to check your pulse. Sometimes, they can't find your pulse. This is not that alarming, because sometimes, you can't find it yourself (This is obviously not true of all people. Some people have normal pulses. Some people's pulse is just EVERYWHERE, and if you snuggle such people, their pulse keeps thumping you on your head. And then there are some like me, who sometimes seem to lack a pulse altogether.). The nurse will then ask, very seriously, if you are a vampire. You, of course, tell them yes, indeed you are.
  If you are lucky, the nurse will check your temperature with the sort of thermometer that goes in your mouth. Sometimes they will use your ear (Which feels creepy) and sometimes use your armpit (And you hope to God you used the proper amount of deodorant. The perfect amount that will prevent the thermometer from coming out, A) Stinky and sweaty, or B) White with deodorant flakes). God forbid they ever try to take your temperature elsewhere (Do they even do that with people? 'Cause that's gross).
 The nurse will also take your blood pressure. They wrap the Large Blue Device of Squeezy Death and Tingly Hands around your arm. This device then tries to squeeze your arm off. Sometime, they will also stick what appears to be a large plastic clothespin on your finger. We're not sure what this does. But it sure feels weird doing it.

#3: THE SINISTER MAN HIMSELF APPEARS
  After all this is over with, the nurse goes outside to laugh at you. The doctor comes in, and listens your self live and breath and pump and all that jazz.. He makes "Hmmm." noises. It has yet to be determined if these "Hmmms" are positive "Hmmms" or negative "Hmmms'. And the doctor is not about to tell you.
  The doctor searches for your pulse. You wish him luck.  He says your pulse is a little high. You try to refrain from stating the obvious. "That would be because there is a DOCTOR grabbing my arm. Duh." Sometimes you are really sick, and thus not in the best mood, so you do indeed state the obvious. Only to be polite, you should leave off the "Duh". Remember, this man has probably seen the insides of people numerous times.
  Doctor pokes you in the stomach. HARD. He asks if this hurts. That would hurt if you WEREN'T sick, of COURSE it hurts, but you say, "No.", assuming he probably just wants to know if that was abnormal massive pain. He also pokes you in the neck. This also hurts, but he usually doesn't ask about it. He just likes to poke your neck.
  The doctor goes out for a bit to laugh at you, and share stories of hilarious sick people with the nurse. Eventually, he comes back, and states that after all that, he doesn't actually know what is wrong with you, but here, take these pills. They're delicious.
  Sometimes though, the doctor will come in, and announce that, "The strep test was wonderful!". You take this do mean you do not have strep. You are wrong. You do have strep. And the doctor thinks this is wonderful.

#4: AND NOW YOU GET TO LEAVE
  Yayyyy, it's finally almost over! All you have to do now, is pay a whole crapload of cash for the people to poke you. About this time, the horridness of this whole situation catches up with you, and you faint. But since you are way out here where the doctors and nurses can't see you, you are left to enjoy your unconsciousness undisturbed.
  Fainting in and of itself could take up a whole blog post. Lord knows I've had enough experience. Some people just gradually black out, losing all sense of touch. You can still hear your head hit the floor though. Some people get tunnel vision. Still others see random things like puppies and ice cream cones floating around. I am one of the gradually blacking out people. I also tend to think random weird things the first few minutes I'm awake again. Such as, "Hey, I wonder what I look like right after I've passed out??" *hops up to look at self in mirror. Is awed by extreme whiteness. Quickly sits back down. Or, "Heeheeheeee, everyone s standing around me looking worried. WORRIED IS HILARIOUS!!" And then they look even more worried, because you woke up giggling after clunking your head on a brick wall.

 Then people drive you home. And you blog about it.
Because you have wonderful strep, and nothing better to do.