I realize that I have a small fanbase out there, but if you guys take the time to reblog this post, it will ripple across Tumblr and people will see and know what the future holds.
The “Stop Online Piracy Act” (also known as SOPA and H.R. 3261) is currently in committee in the US House of Representatives. This bill will be detrimental to the Internet and almost all of your Tumblr accounts. Following this post will be links to find the contact info of all Congressmen and women, Senators, a link to the bill, a list of SOPA supporters, and a list of SOPA opponents.
We must all take a stand against censorship in what has been considered the bastion of freedom: The United States.
A little about SOPA:
If a company suggests a website contains copyrighted material that was taken without permission, they can file a complaint that would shut that website down. Search engines like Google and Yahoo could not allow search results that would link to those websites.
PIPA, otherwise known as PROTECT IP Act, Preventing Real Online Threats to Economic Creativity and Theft of Intellectual Property Act of 2011, and United States Senate Bill S.968, is virtually the Senate’s version of SOPA. It is set to be brought up on January 24th. Following this post will be a link to the list of Senators. All them, as most of them will not meet with you before the Senate reconvenes.
We need to take a stand, as the people, to prevent the United States government from censoring the internet. Remember, SOPA and PIPA doesn’t just affect the US. It affects the world.
Representatives: http://www.house.gov/representatives/
Senators: http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm?OrderBy=state&Sort=ASC
SOPA: http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c112:H.R.3261:
SOPA Supporters: http://www.scribd.com/doc/76259944/SOPA-Supporters
SOPA Opponents: http://www.quora.com/Stop-Online-Piracy-Act-SOPA-1/What-companies-are-publicly-opposing-SOPA-PROTECT-IP
PIPA: http://leahy.senate.gov/imo/media/doc/BillText-PROTECTIPAct.pdf
Lauren is my older brother’s fiancée. She grew up in Louisiana and hasn’t visit outside much. One time, at a sushi restaurant, she asked for brown gravy. Yes, like you put on meat. She had apparently done this before. Who knew? Needless to say, I don’t care for her much. I’m only okay with this engagement because my older brother, Jeremiah, is happy.
Lauren’s mother doesn’t like anybody touching her bread.
“She even got to the point of scanning it herself.”
Me: “That’s funny. Earlier today, I was looking for the definition of neurotic.”
Lauren: “We tried breaking his computer. We even threw it on the ground.”
Me: “Cause you’re not part of the system?”
Lauren: “…”
Me: “Nevermind.”
Brother: What is taking these people so long?
Lauren: Cause they’re ignorant!
Me: Maybe they don’t want to hit the people crossing the street?
Both: “…”
Me: Or not…?
Brother: Then why don’t they all cross at once?
Lauren: CAUSE THEY’RE IGNORANT!
Jeremiah fake proposing with a small bracelet won at an arcade.
Lauren: This is gay.
Me: Really? This?
Lauren: Jeremiah, this is really gay. Stop.
Me: He’s proposing to you, a woman. How is this a homosexual act?
Lauren doesn’t eat leftovers
Me: Some food is better as leftovers.
Lauren: Yeah, like sushi.
Me: …or pizza………..Wait, you got on to Jeremiah for eating fried chicken that was in a car overnight when it was super cold last night, but you’re willing to eat one day old raw fish?
Lauren: I don’t eat raw fish.
Me: I…what?
Lauren: I don’t eat raw fish.
Me: That’s what sushi is!
Jeremiah: She eats the cooked kind.
Lauren: I only eat fake sushi.
Me: I…sigh
Lauren (to Jeremiah): You shouldn’t get an Acura, again. This last round has been disappointing.
Jeremiah: Yeah, I know. That’s why I was thinking of getting a Lexus.
Lauren: You don’t need no top-of-the-line shit. You could get a quality car cheap. Like a Hyundai or a Chevrolet.
Me: Because when I think “quality”, I think “Chevrolet”.
Lauren: Well, maybe not Chevrolet…
Me: No, no. Chevy will give you more bang for your buck. And by “bang”, I mean “engine backfire”. And how is a Chevy or Hyundai better than a Honda?
Lauren: I ain’t never said nothing about no Honda.
Me: Acura and Honda are the same!
Lauren: I’m going to tell my mom that you think this is going too fast! I never made it go too fast
Jeremiah: I’m not telling you it’s moving too fast.
Lauren: You thought the wedding was this November!
Jeremiah: You said that’s when you wanted it!
Lauren: I never said that! I’m not moving too fast!
Me: Didn’t you already buy your wedding dress?
Lauren: Yeah, so? It was on sale.
Me: because wedding dresses never go on sale. And people’s body don’t change within two years…
Jeremiah: The drunker I am, the less veil you need.
Lauren: The wedding comes before the reception.
Jeremiah: I never said anything about the reception.
Lauren: When we get a house, get a fucking basement.
Jeremiah: Uh-
Me: Just don’t say anything. Just don’t. *turn to Lauren Basement. Sounds like a great idea!
(In Louisiana, the land is so close to the water table, that NO house has a basement. She’s lived in Louisiana all of her life, and visiting us for the first time a few years ago in CA was the first time she ever left Louisiana.)
Mia is my brother’s and Lauren’s dog. My brother was tossing Mia up in the air, playing with her.
Lauren: Don’t toss my dogs in the air. Mia will never be able to have babies.
Me: Why not…?
Jeremiah: Because apparently it’ll mess up her insides.
Me: stares at them for no less than 15 seconds ….what?
As my brother and I are trying to put my mom’s laptop back together.
Lauren: How many half-Iranians does it take to put a computer back together?
Me: Probably two. How many white girls does it take? Because we can figure that out now.
Lauren: Nah, I don’t know any of that. I’m not even going to try.
Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Lauren: Does New York have amusement parks?
Jeremiah: Yeah. The subway system.
Lauren: Yeah, whatever.
Me: Do I have to be the one to say it? Coney Island.
PS - Fuck editing for formatting this time. I’m tired.
Today I Learned there is a difference between Vietnamese Mint and “Persian” Mint. I add the quotations around Persian because any mint besides Vietnamese Mint is Persian Mint.
This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for lots of food, a non-yelling family, and an awesome laptop that I can play badass games on like Missile Command Classic and Spelunky.
So, this Thanksgiving, this is what happened:
45 minute conversation about flights and how customer service is hilarious in the airlines.
Mom (works for airlines): “So then this FBI agent told me that he needed to speak to somebody on the plane. I told him he wasn’t allowed to. He said ‘Don’t you know that I’m FBI?!’, but I told him again that he couldn’t. He threatened me saying ‘I will have your job!’. I told him he was welcome to it.”
30 minute conversation about children getting molested and general bad parenting.
Mom: “Kids shouldn’t go to daycare!”
Aunt: “What?! No! They should!”
(My aunt runs a daycare)
Mom: “I would NEVER allow my kids to be on leashes!”
My Sister: “We had leashes that we never wore…”
Mom: “That was your damn grandmother.”
Azade: “You know Chris is a twin. His mother had to deal with two of them running around.”
Aunt: “But you two look so different that you couldn’t cheat in school, could you?”
Me (jokingly): “You should get the accidental plan warranty. Just hit it with a baseball bat and call it an accident. You can say it was a burglar. It’s black.”
Mom: “Was that morally right?”
Me: “To assume the burglar was black? Or to break a computer to get a new one because of the warranty?”
Mom: glare
Me: “It was the warranty comment, wasn’t it?”
Mom: “What is wrong with you?”
Sister: “It was the warranty comment.”
Expect more.
My uncle…
…let’s just say my Uncle Koroush is that stereotypical, Middle Eastern uncle that can get you anything.
I had to help clean and organize his garage the other day. Let’s review some of the things that were said and seen throughout that faithful day:
14 Franzus Personal Security Siren and Flashlight packages
87 Boxes of Keychains With 11 boxes within each
After packing, he said “Thank God for China.”
He has an inflatable robot that apparently brings beer to you. It’s remote controlled. Please see photo above.
Uncle: “Do you know what that is?”
Me: “No, what is it?
Uncle: “It’s a step for behind a pickup truck.”
Me: “Just….give me a minute….I have to sit down….”
HE HAS A PAIR OF NUNCHUCKS
Bonus (from a previous encounter)
Uncle: “You want a car? I can show you a TDI for $6500. It just has a bad engine.”
Me: “Then no, I don’t want it.”
Uncle: “Why?”
Me: “Because it has a bad engine.”
Uncle: “Well, I have an engine.”
Me: “How do you have an engine?”
Uncle: “Because I have a friend who owns a junkyard and he owes me money.”
Uncle: “For every $8 you put in your Toyota, you’ll have to put $5 in a Jetta. Do you know how much savings that is?
Me: “$3?
Uncle: “Fifty cents.”
Me: “Why do you have that many bottles of rubbing alcohol?”
Uncle: “Because they were cheap.”
Me: “I bet. But why? Who needs that many bottles of rubbing alcohol?!”
Uncle: “They were ten cents a bottle.”
Me: “I don’t care how cheap they were; whhhhhyyyyyyyy?!”
I wish I was making this stuff up.
It’s been a while, I know. I’ve been really busy and this has been the lowest priority on my list of things to do.
So, I had to call Bank of America the other day to handle an overdraft fee. This is how the conversation went:
Me: Can you waive this overdraft fee?
BoA: Possibly.
Me: Would you like to hear my story?
BoA: Uhhh…sure?
Me: Are you religious?
BoA: Well…I mean…not really, but kind of.
Me: Okay. Well, I found God in the last three weeks. I mean, it’s the only explanation. You see, I have been constantly shit on in the last 3 weeks and I don’t work for middle management. I haven’t been paid in a month and my boss isn’t giving me back pay. I’ll have money in the next few days, I swear.
BoA: Okay. We’ll waive your fee this time. You have 5 days to get the money in your account to avoid the fee.
Me: Awesome. You’re awesome.
BoA: Is there anything else that I can do for you, Mr. Petrosky?
Me: Please, don’t call me “Mr. Petrosky”.
BoA: Should I call you…Alexander?
Me: You can call me Alex. I tell some people to call me “Captain”, and, for some reason, they listen to me.
BoA: Okay, well, is there anything else that I can do for you, Captain?
Me: No, you have done plenty, thank you.
BoA: Okay, well, you have a wonderful day, Captain. chuckle
Me: Oh, you, too.
I then called AT&T about 3 hours later to activate my little brother’s phone.
AT&T: Is there anything else that I can do for you, sir?
Me: Please, don’t call me “sir”. Call me, “Captain”.
AT&T: Is there anything that I can do for you, Captain?
Me: No, that’s all. Thanks.
Oh, yeah. Shitty day turned into a great day.It’s how I’m going to roll from now on.
Setting:
Olive Garden
Sunday, March 20th
Persian New Year
Angelo: Now, Azade, you’re a biology person, right?
Me: Biologist. They’re called biologists.
Angelo: Yeah, whatever. Now, is it true that, if you’re Asian, you have to get eye surgery every so often or else evolution takes its course and you can’t see?
Me: Are….are you serious?
Azade: What? Who told you that?
Angelo: (Points to my mother)
Mom: One of my coworkers is Asian and she gets surgery every so often.
Azade: That’s just her. Not every Asian is like that!
Mom: No.
Azade: Yes!
Angelo: How long does one have to wait for a natural disaster to be funny?
Me: No.
Mom: Ramen? That’s not food.
Me: Oh, I’m sorry. Do you think I can afford food?
Mom: You take food from home.
Me: Do you think that I have a magic freezer? Food just keeps appearing?
Mom: Then I’ll just come down every week and give you food.
Me: No, you won’t.
Mom: Why not?
Me: Because I’ll kill you.
Mom: I’m surprised you guys haven’t lost any fingers.
*Now, the context that follows is completely accurate, but doesn’t make that quote make any more sense.
Me: Excuse me?
Mom: Well, you guys used to suck on your fingers a lot. I’m surprised you haven’t sucked them off.
Me: You don’t have even the most basic grasp of biology, do you? Our fingers aren’t popsicles!
So, I went back to San Jose this weekend. Yes, I have more quotes. This time, my little brother, Angelo, is more involved. I wish I made this shit up, but these conversations legitimately happen.
Angelo: I didn’t appreciate you dropping your computer on me last night.
Me: It was 3:30am and dark. I didn’t see you.
Angelo: You didn’t see me under the blanket?
Me: Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t expect somebody to be on the couch at 3 in the morning.
Angelo: What if there was something breakable on the couch?
Me: Like a Fabergé egg?
Angelo: Like my glasses.
Me: There’s a coffee table right there.
Angelo: Well, I was on the couch.
Me: You have a bed! Why weren’t you there?!
Angelo: My heater broke.
(Talking about a car)
Mom: 1995? That’s like….2005….20 years old!
Me: 15-16 years, mom.
Mom: (stops and stares at me)
Me: What? Did I do the math too well?
Mom: Do you want milk?
Angelo: No, I’m not playing your game again.
Me: …what game?!
Angelo: Last time she told me there was milk, I drank it and ate it; and it turned out to be bad.
Me: Eating milk didn’t give that away?
Mom: Just because it’s passed the expiration date doesn’t mean it’s bad.
Me: Are we really that poor?
Mom: That’s the one thing I thank your father for — encouraging me to enter into those cooking contests.
Angelo: What about those cookies?
Me: What cookies?
Mom: (Angrily) I should’ve won that one! Your stupid father.
Mom: So, do you have anybody to spend Valentine’s Day with?
Me: Yeah, I have to split my time between two, why?
Mom: Really? Who?
Me: “Class work” and “Lab work”.
Mom: laughter
Me: I was being serious….
Mom: I want pancakes.
Me: What do you want me to do about it?
Mom: Get me pancakes.
Mom: What are you writing in that notepad?
Me: Just some notes, don’t worry about it.
Mom: It’s okay if you keep a diary. A lot of people keep a diary.
Me: Oh, trust me, it’s not a diary. It’s just some things that I have to remember for later.
Mom: If you don’t want to call it a diary, you can always call it a journal.
Me: Yeah, okay, Mother. I’ll call it just that.
Dear hacker:
You are not special. You are not a genius. If anything, you a blessing. Why? Because you’re forcing me to update. Here’s the deal I have for you. You go ahead and keep doing what you’re doing. I will go ahead and keep doing what I’m doing. We’ll see who gets in trouble first. What am I talking about?
Your actions:
You hacking my tumblr
You trying to make fun of me
You updating on days that aren’t Thursdays
Your consequences:
You’re going to end up updating more than me
You’re telling people that I hate my life
CA Penal Code 529
My actions:
I update on Thursdays
Me making this post
I keep smoking
My consequences:
I update more often
I admit I hate my life
Lung cancer
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m not flattered. I mean, it takes a lot to hack into somebody’s tumblr and post that I hate life. I mean, first, you have to find that tumblr. Then you have to do what you do to hack. Then you have to think of a clever line like you tried doing. Then you have to post. And hey, if you’re a single female, let’s meet up. Obviously we have to work out some differences, but you’ve apparently taken a liking to me. And if we can’t work out our differences, then free dinner for you.
Pic related: What I hope you don’t look like.
Edited to look nice 2/1/11 6:46pm
Editor’s Note: Please use correct grammar, too. It’s just insulting to you at this point.
2/1/11 6:48pm
Edit: Changed “Me actions” to “My actions” 2/2/11 12:32am
ahhhhh
im hating my life, i got hacked!!!!! And i don’t know whose doing it! Why don’t they stop hacking me!
It’s winter break. Here are snippets from conversations and quotes from my mother. For reference, Azade is my sister and Angelo is my little brother.
Mom: This is my Christmas; don’t ruin it again, Alex.
Mom: Do whatever makes you happy. And being a physician will make you happy.
Mom: I want to send you guys to Costa Rica. Go next week.
Me: Why?
Mom: Because, I want to send you somewhere you’ll enjoy.
Me: Okay, then send me to Boise, Idaho.
Mom: Why Idaho?
Me: Because, it’ll be fun. I’ll enjoy it.
Mom: But you’ll freeze your nuts off. You’ll enjoy Costa Rica more.
Me: So I can be dragged around by your friend all day to see shit I don’t want to see?
Mom: No.
Me: Then send me to Boise.
Mom: (swallows pride) Okay.
Me: I think you have a gross misunderstanding of the English language.
1am
Mom: ALEX! GET TO BED!
Me (while in bed): I AM in bed.
Mom: No you’re not! Get to bed!
Me (sarcastically): Oh, shit. This isn’t my bed. Where am I?
Mom: Why don’t you believe in God?
Me: Because I’m 23.
Mom: What does that have to do with anything?
Me: I’m too old to have imaginary friends.
Mom: Why don’t you believe in God?
Me: Because I don’t believe he exists.
Mom: Well, prove that he doesn’t.
Me: First, I believe there’s a teapot orbiting behind the Moon. Prove that there isn’t.
Mom: Well, it doesn’t matter to me if there is.
Me: And it doesn’t matter to me that you believe in an imaginary thing, either.
Mom: How many children do you want?
Me: 16.
Mom: I’m trying to have a serious and nice conversation.
Me: And I want my wife to have two litters of children.
Mom: If you’re not going to be serious, then shut up.
Me: I’m 22! I don’t even have a girlfriend! I’m not out of college! Why would I want to think about children!?
Mom: I’m just trying to have a conversation with you.
Me: Fine, I don’t really want my wife to have 16 children.
Mom: Then how many do you want?
Me: Oh, I want 16. I just expect her to have some before we get married.
Mom: Death glare
Mom: Azade’s in Japan? Here, tell her to contact my friend there.
Me: Okay, what’s her info?
Mom: Here.
Me: Okay, how did you two meet? When? How old is she?
Mom: We met in the airport in Hawaii a year or two ago. She’s about Azade’s age.
Angelo: That lady that never replied to the e-mails?
Mom: She replied to one of them.
Me: Wait, what e-mails?
Angelo: She replied to one, but the next three she ignored.
Me: What’s going on here?
Mom: Maybe she didn’t get them.
Angelo: That doesn’t seem right.
Me: There were e-mails? What’s going on?
Mom: I told her my kids would contact her, so Angelo e-mailed her.
Me: Oh, so some random person decided it would be a grand idea that her kids contact another random person?
Mom: She knows who we are. Now, tell her Azade’s coming to visit.
Me: But what if Azade is nowhere near her?
Mom: How big do you think Japan is?
Me: Larger than you think, apparently. It’s like saying “Oh, I’m in the US. Come visit me. Oh, you’re in California? I’m in Iowa.”
Mom: Just send Azade her info.
Me: What’s that symbol here?
Mom: That’s a smiley face.
Me: It’s in front of the phone number.
Mom: It’s a smiley face.
Me: I think it’s the area code.
Mom: Whatever.
(Nurse commercial playing)
Me: Maybe I should be a nurse.
Mom: You’re just trying to break my nuts, aren’t you?
Me: Excuse me?
Mom: You heard me.
Expect more next week.
4 cigarettes while driving home.
That’s a ~3 hour drive. My mother called me this afternoon to remind me that I need to drive home. This was our conversation:
“…hurry up and drive home. It’s getting dark”. It was 1:13pm.
So I drive home around 3pm. I had to stop by Wal-Mart to pick up oil for may car. I forgot Christmas was close. It explained why the parking lot was in chaos. It was an okay drive. Long and drawn out, but okay overall. I hate that drive because it’s boring. The drive back to Merced is worse. There’s a Christian billboard that either says “Jesus Died For Your Sins” or “God Loves You”. Thank you, Christians, I almost forgot. That billboard makes me want to be a better Christian. Or Hell, it makes me want to convert. That one billboard. Thanks.
Ear punching mice for DNA: 1 mouse per 3 minutes
Digestion of ears: 12.5 hours
Making PCR mix for all of the DNA: 1 hour
Preparing all of the tubes: ~30 minutes
Running PCR: 2-3 hours
Making a gel: ~20 minutes
Pipetting DNA into gel wells: ~10-15 minutes
Running a gel: 1 hour
Taking a picture of results: ~5 minutes
Having my friends complain that I never go out: 1 cigarette
It’s finals week.
I smoke so I can feel aliiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvvveeeeeeee.
Picture Courtesy of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal.
This is why I smoke: Biology
Okay, so my last post sucked. I realize that. It was more or less just to push something out. So here’s the deal with my Tumblr from now on: I update every Thursday. Unless something pisses me off to the point where I go, “I need to blog about this!”, I will only update Thursdays.
Now, to feed off of the idea of my last post, I am writing about Biology. I’m almost done with my Biology degree, so I feel this is only right. Biology has ruined my life. It has caused so much stress, that it has caused me to start smoking. The biggest problem with this? Because I am a biology major, I know exactly how cigarettes work.
Also, it’s a conversation killer. Here are some examples:
At a party hitting on some girl
Art Major: “I like how the color of your eyes match the outfit you are wearing. You remind me of a Monet painting.”
Girl: swoon
Biology Major: “I like how your eyes are autosomal recessive for the blue gene. You remind me that I have a Genetics exam to study for.”
Girl: already making out with Art Major
At a family dinner
Political Science Major: “Did you hear about North Korea bombing South Korea? I just don’t think North Korea should start something of this magnitude with Kim Jung-il’s health so unstable.”
Family: glad $20k/year is educating their child
Biology Major: “So that’s when the food moves into the intestines. Nutrients are absorbed by the microvilli, which are finger-like projections that are designed to increase surface area.”
Family: regrets spending $20k/year educating their child
Walking in a park
Random Person (thinking to self): “I wonder what I’ll have for dinner.”
Biology Major (thinking to self): “Neuron fires action potential, travels to muscle, muscle moves.”
After watching Terminator: Salvation
Non-Biology Major Friends: “Man, it was noble that the cyborg guy donated his heart at the end. He finally regained his humanity.”
Biology Major: “THEY CAN’T DO OPEN HEART SURGERY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT WHEN THEY’RE AT WAR WITH FUCKING ROBOTS. DO THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT STERILE INSTRUMENTS?!”
You get the point. So, to sum up my past 5 years of college: Biology has taken the magic out of life.
Human Physiology. Yes, BIO 161, for those of you who know what the class is called at UCM.
Why is this class a reason why I smoke? Because it’s fucking ridiculous. The material is intense. We have one dead day to study for the final. The amount of things that we need to know is enormous. You would think, “Hey, I know what the lungs do. They let you breathe.” Yeah, that’s not it. They regulate pH, dissolve clots, and many, many other things, too.
But as I mentioned earlier, the final is fast approaching. Now, as you faithful readers may know, I don’t use this blog to bitch. Oh, no, no. I use it to tell the world why I smoke. Well, this is what I learned in Physio yesterday:
-You can’t explain Star Wars well to kids not born in the Star Wars era.
-You don’t become what you eat. You become about 25% of what you eat.
-When taking pills like Melatonin and other supplements, you don’t take Melatonin; you take the base for Melatonin (like the amino acids).
-Chewing is important.
-For approximately 10 minutes, we talked about steak. How well marbled it is, fat tastes good, Kobe beef is delicious but has consequences, etc.
-If you want flavor, then you can’t have healthy. Rice cakes suck.
-If you put an unsalted saltine cracker (yes, apparently they make them) in your mouth and don’t chew, it will become sweet after about 30-45 minutes. There’s an explanation to this, so if you want it, let me know.
Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a hard class. But sometimes, you learn more from the book or the internet than if you went to class. The problem with this class is that there are pockets of things that I learn. Yes, I’m an elitist. Yes, I’m intelligent. And yes, I know most of this material. I’m just not challenged enough. Also, I hate biology. God, I hate it so much sometimes. Damn it for be interesting.
*Also to note, this post was more or less forced. It would have been more amusing if Marko (the gentleman mentioned in a previous post) didn’t harp on me to keep updating. The man reads this blog religiously.
