Huystar

This is Boston, This is Title Town.

Oh how it feels great to be in Boston. 24 wins one year, Championship the next. You cannot deny the greatness of the Celtics. Now I’ll have more newspaper clippings to post on my wall. The final game was one for the books. But then again, who will be able to forget a 39-point blowout? Kobe? Overrated. Lakers? Unable to keep up. Celtics? Unstoppable. The championship was the icing on the cake of Boston’s dominance in almost every sport (we still have a few more layers to add).

The things that occurred in school today was something I did not expect. Aside from the student rally and the lock-down, it was a fairly normal day. Today as in Friday 2/29

It all started with my school’s administration issuing a new policy. Teachers and staff would do a ’sweep’ of the school after late bells to catch any students that are late or those loafing. Whoever was caught would be sent to the auditorium. Whether you were late or your had a pass, you still were sent to the auditorium. The administrators would then lecture students about tardiness for about 15 minutes and then send them to class. In other words, they would make you 20 minutes late, for being 2 minutes late.

I find this ‘policy’ to be dense. The staff thought it worked, whilst the students thought it was a bust. There were kids that didn’t care, and those that were pretty ticked off by the policy. So how did the students voice their opinion? By revolting.

It all started with a text message, which soon spread through out the student body via text messages & IM’s. I don’t know how the message got to so many people so quickly, but I am damn sure impressed.

(more…)

That was the worst game. Ever. Patriots going undefeated then losing the last game. That’s like going through high school, then dropping out senior year. Nothing is more disappointing than that. Epic fail.

So the past week or so, I’ve done nothing but sleep. I hate sleep. Yet I sleep from the minute I get home, and wake up the day after. The 15+ hours dont help because I get even sleepier. Maybe it’s due to my computer crashing, eh, it’s whatever.

I talk a lot. I always thought I was shy, but no. I talk a ton. . when I’m around everyday people. Why do I talk a lot? No idea. When ever someone says something, and I have something to say about it, I let it loose. People I hate; when others say something about them under their breath, I’ll repeat what they said, but louder. I’ll take the heat and say ‘@#$$@’ to their face. It sends a stronger message than just feeling it. They’ll feel the impact of the hate.

The other day at the dinner table, my dad was telling me his war stories. About how he lived through the harsh reeducation camps after the Vietnam War. As he was telling me and my brother, I was thinking about writing my dad’s memoirs. I’ve been told the stories for years, and I’ve remembered them all. But if I write his memoirs, where do I put them? In a book? Or should I make it a series here? Either way, his stories are gonna get told.

The A’z. I haven’t heard music like the songs these guys put out. They give me faith in music or the ‘hip hop’ genre, if you listen to it or not. Decide if it’s for you, listen to their single. I’ll put their name out, but won’t promote them, because when tracks become a hit they also become lame. Therefore, no mp3 for you!

Salutations

PS. Let it load.

I have chronic back pain. They say laughing helps relieve pain, but I think that’s false for backs. When I laugh, I usually lean back while I’m laughing, which defeats the purpose of relieving pain. Sitting makes it worse, so thanks for reading my posts, but screw you for causing me pain while I type.

It’s been 2 weeks since I made a post. I haven’t been able to think of something to write about, because nothing interesting has happened that’s been worth writing. At all. So this is a pity post. So, have pity on my back. I’m making things up as I write.

A friend of mine had a cool idea for her posts on her blog. She wrote down words to what ever she was thinking about. I thought about if I did that. It wouldn’t work out. It’d be something like this: “Shit, my back hurts. I’m leaving”.