Friday, February 25, 2011

A Link?

Links on my computer for some reason do not work, so I am just going to give you this, along with some directions:

-go there
-watch some stuff
-comment on some stuff

-Mary and Harry

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

every perfect earth has its imperfections ( kind of depressing)

For every life there is death.
For every death there is life.
Is there a good and evil. some say yes others like me say no.
I am here to just blog about my feeling right now because something terrible might happen.
So here i go. I am feeling depressed, sad, confused.
I am rarely like this if you know me well enough. So for now i will express my feelings in a poem.

Every perfect earth has its imperfections

The earth is like a person in a wide spread universe of other people.
The earth may look perfect but it really isnt.
The earth is hit many times with asteroid but it still stands tall.
The earth is polluted yet it finds the strength to push on.
but every strong tree must loose strength sometime.
The strength to keep going. My friend has lost that strength.
and SHE is in a dark place right now. Where no one can help her but herself.
She has stopped believing that she has a chance.
Her friends all try to help her, but her barrier is hard to break through.
She has lost the will to live.
and wishs to diplete away.
For her pain is normal, but what exactly is normal.
The dark shadows go around her like rattlesnakes ready to inject poison.
She has lost the will to survive ,so she chooses to ...
but not just yet, her friends want to her to live. " maybe i'll live a little longer"she says.
- Mr.E lover

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

the shed

Today, like many days, I was at "lucky and Jazz"'s (Sophie's) house. Everything was fine, accept for the fact that Sophie had a guitar lesson, and I wanted to stay. We resolved this issue by having me stay in the shed outside for a half hour until the lesson was over. I was left inside with a pencil, a pen, a carrot muffin, a mug with a matching lid and strainer filled with tea leaves, a thermos of boiling water, a sketch pad, a wire basket, a pesach matzo cover,a blanket, a Rubik's cube, and a yarmulke.

I set up my space by putting up a small table I found folded on its stand (a set of four), and creating a seat out of an old cinder block. After after I was done setting up the table and chairs, I realized that Sophie's dog, Rigby, had licked my muffin. I sat at the table, put the blanket over my lap, and poured the water over the tea leaves. On the table were the sketch pad, the matzo cover, the muffin, the Rubik's cube, a pencil, and the tea. The uke and the yarmulke were put onto a shelf next to rope and a saw. As I pulled the strainer out of the mug, I succeeded in spilling tea all over the muffin.

Seeing that the muffin, saturated in tea and dog slobber, was inedible, and my detestation for Rubik's cubes, I decided to draw them. After wiping up the tea spill with the matzo cover, I began to draw the muffin and the cube. By the way, I forgot to mention how cold it was. I could barely draw a straight line, because of the combined factors being that I could not stop shivering and that I couldn't feel my hand anyway. About fifteen minutes in, I heard someones hand on the door nob.thinking it was Sophie, I got up out of my seat. But when the door opened, standing in the doorway was a tall man that I had never seen in my entire life. he looked at me and mumbled under his breath "I thought I heard someone in here" as he left, closing the door behind him.

At this point I was So sick of this shed, from the frigid temperature to the scary stranger coming and going faster than you could say hypothermia. To try and ease my anger and loneliness, I decided to pick up the uke and play a little song. I placed my fingers on the strings and strummed. What came out of the sound box sounded like a dog being squeezed while inside a helium balloon being thrown into a lake. I couldn't feel any of my fingers on my strumming hand, let alone my chord hand. I lifted the mug of tea to my mouth, only to feel it inside of my mouth just as cold as the air around me. Than I remembered the fact that I didn't have shoes on.

Finally, at Five o'clock, Sophie came to my rescue. when she opened the door, she found me huddled in a ball wrapped in the blanket half dead. somehow I managed to make it inside without one of my limbs falling off. Inside, while sitting on a chair in the dining room, Sophie's mother comes in. She looks at me, than at Sophie, than at me once again. Than she says," you know Sophie, Ben could have stayed in here if he wanted." My life sucks, doesn't it.

hope your day wasn't as hypothermic as mine was,
-Guy Noël Futterhorn

And an enigma that you will never understand: if raziel is called fire of earth, could he be called "Tejas of Prithivi"?

Monday, February 21, 2011


we've gotten past one hundred posts! This will be the 108th. To celebrate, here is a list of one hundred's.
-100 people
-100 letters
-100 elephants
-100 ticks from a clock
-100 days of eighth grade (past)
-100 cats wearing red pajamas
-100 cows
-100 eyes
-100 toes
-100 squares on a checkered table cloth
-100 great songs
-100 great musicians
-100 thoughts
-100 books read
-100 books rejected
-100 popsicle sticks on a 100 days of school project
-100 annoying little brothers
-100 colors
-100 voices
-100 second thoughts
-100 lions
-100 whispered words
-100 innovations
-100 skyscrapers
-100 pen marks
-100 puns
-100 regrets
-100 movies
-100 empty aquarium tanks
-100 demands
-100 numbers
-100 nombres
-100 dreamers
-100 pumpkins with carved on faces glaring into darkness
-100 posts written
-100 posts read

-Mary and Harry

I'm Sorry.

I guess you could say there is never a wrong time to come back to something.
Except maybe in this case.
Nevertheless, I'm gonna come through with this. I'll try to keep it short.
I want to apologize. I told you a fake name and got you looking for me in the wrong places. I came to this blog with my friend a few months ago on a dare. I got carried away with the posting and stuff.
Back to what I said earlier, this is not a good time to come back. You've probably forgotten bout the random bandit who came through town long ago, now that you have three new people. I just felt like I should apologize. Really apologize.
By the way, ever since I've left I have been reading the blog. Keep up the good writin', it's very fun and interesting to read these posts.

-The Scarecrow

Sunday, February 20, 2011

the 8th deadly sin of the forgotten song writer.

I love music. But where would music be if not for the bands, composers, and arrangers who give us the songs, opuses, and ballads that we live to hear? So what if someone told you that the national anthem was written by the White Stripes, or that happy birthday was by the Rolling Stones. This is a sin, if ever their was one. To not give credit to those who write the song is just as bad as murder, in my opinion.

A couple of days ago, I was talking to one of my friends about music. We were talking about the song "across the universe", when she says "this band so-and-so are so good, right?" so-and-so being the name of a band that I cannot remember. I responded by asking who they were. "the people who wrote across the universe, of course!"

I was dumbstruck. In horrific awe. In pain, even. How could anyone mistake the Beatles, THE BEATLES, for gods sake. The band was some new cover band that took the Beatles song and used it to corrupt the minds of our nations youth, making them forget of the glory found in the original composers! I nearly took a knife and stabbed her on the spot! My god, what has the world come to these days?

Another example that is less important in the minds of most people is this: A little while back, I was playing my ukulele on the street, playing the song "livin' in the sunlight, lovin' in the moonlight". Someone walked by, someone I didn't know, and they stopped to listen. when I was done with the song, they said "hey, isn't that the song by Tiny Tim in the first Spongebob episode?" I was about to bash the uke over her head, but I kept calm. This is why I was angry:

Tiny Tim version:

Spongebob version, (skip 6 min and 10 sec in):

and the original from 1930:

I hope you understand.
-Guy Noël

And a little enigma that has been going through my mind that you will never understand and I will never explain: if the right side of 1°=10 is olive, which is a mix of 2°=8 (purple) and 4°=7 (green), and 2°=8 is made up of 7°=4 (blue) and 6°=5 (red), and 4°=7 is made up of 5°=6 (yellow) and 7°=4 once again, and all of them include 10°=1 (white), 9°=2 (gray), and 8°=3 (black), than the flashing color of the right side of 1°=10 would be the only unnamed one, 3°=9 (orange). But according to this, the right side of 1°=10 would have the flashing color orange, but also according to this, the right side of 1°=10 (olive) would be 50% blue, 25% red and 25% yellow. there is an equal balance of red and yellow which make orange, so therefore the flashing color cannot be orange. This is a paradox! let me attempt to add a diagram:
note: the diagram i just spent twenty minutes of my vacation making a diagram that didn't upload (dammit!) well, I'll try again later!

. this is an image that sorta explains it. i got it from another blog, but don't go on that blog. okay?
nvm i got it:

Thursday, February 17, 2011


I'm trying to come up with a pen name. I know there is a fancier word for that, I just don't know how to spell it. Since a bunch of people's pens names are their pets, mine will be the names of the first fish I had and the last fish I had.
Mary and Harry.
I won about five fish from a magician who came to my house on my birthday parties when I was little. His name was Amazing Ken. All of the fish I got died shortly after, and I had fish funerals for each one. The first fish I named Mary. The last fish I named Harry. Harry was technically killed by my brother, who was five or four at the time. He knocked over his tank because he wanted to get a toy out of it. Harry was on the floor. We saved him then, but he died about a week later. I, who was about seven, told my parents that he died of a fatal fish heart attack. I hadn't even seen his body, but I knew. Oh yeah. That fish heart attack got the best of him.
Anyway, my name is now Mary and Harry.
(This is Astrid)

-Mary and HArry

Just to say

Just to point out, my arguement is more valid than Sophie's. :)

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Very nice.

Very nice, Astrid. Very nice.
Unfortunetly, i can see right through it.
Oh, Astrid, trying to sound so sophisticated, if only you knew, ah well
heres mine; I tried a slightly different approach:

Your stupid.
The way words form
in your nasty mouth,
makes me want to build a bomb.
And your clothing well, lets just
say you tried and get over with it..
ah, crap i can't. Your clothing choice
is trash.
I pity you, in fact.
And your cat?
Yeah well he pities you.
Your cat pities you.

Ima burn your house down.

Okay, but seriously guys try this,it's immensely therapuetic.

lucky and jazz

Hate Poem

me and Sophie wrote hate poems for eachother a few months ago. Yeah, that is how nice we are. I found mine.

Ode To The Fool

Oh Sophie,
your thoughts are so
oblique (yeah that's right I used a vocab book word)
You believe
that people
all people
must think the same.
Do you not know that
all people are different?
No leaf,
or raindrop
is the same
I can like what I like
and you like what you.
Your mind is clouded
with utter
You grow angry as I protest, and defend
my rights.
I see your eyes clouded with
and malicious thoughts.

You declare the world must think the same as you.
I object.
Oh Sophie,
please understand.
no thought are the same
you are incredibly misinformed.

Sophie, you can post yours too.
Mine is better though.
Just kidding.
Or maybe not.


Me and ben found a little black kitten. She was weaving out of a fence on the corner of 17th and 10th ave. She was very sweet so we picked her up and carried her home into my bathroom. My mom said she thought the deli man might know whose it was as she'd seen it before her self. So ben and i carried her up the block to the deli. It was indeed their cat though they did not look glad to see her at all. Ben attempted to hand her to the deli mans son but he did not even attempt to grab her so ben put her on the floor. She then proceeded to bolt to under a car before gaining a comfortable possision in the middle of the road. So, Mr. deli man get your cat a collar or keep her inside. One thing that is not cool are cats that are dead. Mr. deliman, i dont hate you, but i do very much dislike you and if i keep seeing your kitten in the middle of the road i am going to temporarily kidnapp her and give her back a week later, ust long enough to show you that she could easily get taken or even killed, dont be stupid.

Lucky and jazz

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

One more thing.

There is a movie called Gnomeo and Juliet. I asked my father why someone would create this movie because children don't have obsessions with gnomes, but his un-helpful reply was "but its british"
Lucky and Jazz

A sonnet.

I buy a bag of dirt to plant some plants.
The plants I plant are plants and nothing less.
The dirt I buy is filled with many ants.
So many ants that you could only guess.
I buy the plants i plant down at the store.
The dirt I plant my plants in is a mess.
The plants I plant are plants and nothing more.
The plants I plant are pink, i must confess.
I dig a whole to plant my little plants.
I take the shovel from the little shed.
In winter, if I plant my plants, I can't.
I say goodnight and put my plants to bed.
As the sun sets in the sky I smile.
I go inside the house and rest a while.
(Astrid!I can use the word "plants" as many times as i gosh darn like)
(thank you ben for the 4th line)
Lucky and Jazz

Excerpts from a new poem i'm working on

Every day as i tug my bags
onto the subway
i know what is inside my backpack
will sit there all night as i dance
and in the morning
when Ms. asks who has their homework
my hand will rest on my desk
my piers will keep their hands raised high
over their heads.
I am tired in math class
my eyes flutter slowly shut
they bolt open when i hear my name
"i'm sorry" I recite
a routine phrase
the classroom blurs as it clears
my head pounds
and i flutter away again.

Bruno and Mario


So here I am, typing on my computer, and as I write this I think, and it seems almost depressing. Not that I'm depressed, really I'm not, but I just wonder about our reliance on technology. From those two sentances, guess who's writing this... anyway, you can call me what you like, I'm not trying to be the super original "I'M BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE BECAUSE I AM SO AMAZING" type of person, but I wonder, at our school, what would happen if kids lost their computers tv's and phones, for a week, or two.

Watch our scool crumble, yeah, I just spelled school that way - I have my moments

SO here's to a hypocritical blog post
yours truly

Supercalafragilisticexpialidoshis, report cards, and frogs.

The time
is four O' seven.
I am eating cereal.
We got report cards today. The interesting thing about report cards is that their genus and species are exactly the same as regular paper. It doesn't make sense because they are so important and dreaded they can't just be regular paper, it just doesn't make sense. Below is a scientific un-labeled diagram of a casual piece of paper. You'll find reassuring yet also frightening:
You see, the common piece of paper suffers many early illnesses due to its purebred composition as well as various mental and hormonal differences. They constantly leak sewage from their mouths, they suffer from early on-set balding from the age of 3 months. The paper in the picture below is suffering with the early stages of catarax which is also very common on looseleaf. They stutter, you'll never see one without an un-fashonable red satchel, and they top it all of with an orange polka dot bow tie.

Lucky and Jazz, Out.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Bed time

I wish i didn't have a bed time
I find im depressed when im alone
Im a people person
im only truly happy on stage of when i'm with people
I tend to like alone time though
I think through my life
Except the strong waves in my stomach
I like to eat
Sometimes my stomach doesn't let me
damn man in my tummy
I hope acids tear at you
Im sorry
read me a bed time story?

Bruno and mario

Valentines day

As i think back in to the past valentines days i have had I really don't have any very romantic memories. My first valentines day as a middle schooler was the one that stands out most to me now. When i was in sixth grade i had the perfect class. Every one i know and love today of my girlfriends where in that class. Emma, Yangchen, Anabel, and I had made a date out of valentines day. All of us gathered to celebrate me and emma's new singleness and the girls lasting singleness. We made it into a singles GNO kinda thing. See the guy that broke up with me was... what at the time i thought amazing. I still really liked him, so that valentines using facebook as a though "appropriate" communication method we left videos on his wall. Dozens of videos. Where i would just talk to him through the web cam and really just be... mean :( now that i look back it really was for lack of a better term bitchy thing to do. After that we got into couples, me and emma and anabel and yangchen, and we danced the tango... to Jai Ho music of Slum Dog Millionaire. It really was the best valentines day ever. I wish i didnt have to leave 51. "John" as a 7th grader be thankful for the school but also the people you have met hear and hope you can keep contact with them after YOU graduate! I hope the exact same for myself. Next year i will be attending PPAS or for those of you who dont know professional preforming arts school for dance. I love every one I met at 51 :) I love 51 <3 wish me luck
<3 bruno and mario

Lets say a farewell

This post was intended a while back but i forgot. Well better late then never.
So here goes.
Lets say Good Bye to Scare Crow or John(fake name)
But was the Scarecrow really such a bad guy or girl or little monster.
The Scarecrow kept us guessing and made us want more of his post.
He/she made us think in ways we might not have thought about before.
He/she made us post better blogs. But many still wonder who the scarecrow is ...
I sometimes wonder but lets just keep him/her as a scarecrow.
Because the magic is in the mystery and once the mystery is gone so is the magic.
So scarecrow if your reading this i want to say thanks. You helped in a way on this roller-coaster of bloging and soon maybe vloging. So thanks again.

-Mr.E Lover

I'm back! Mr, E lover is back and ready to blog! :D

hi people and little monsters alike its me MR.E lover back to bring joy to you.
From your computers.
i have a something to say.
why cant everyday be Sunday!
I love all the fun people have on Sundays
The parties, the video game, the senseless joking.
Sunday Sunday Sunday!
Speaking of Sunday i go to go
My sundae is melting!

-Mr.E lover


Lovely enough, like every other holiday valentines day is the day that someone was killed. Its a roman catholic holiday, and most commonly falls the day after a friday the 13th. In elementry school, valentines day was great, you got to cut out little cards and tape lollipops to them. But, in 6th grade kids completely ignored it. Maybe it was the fear of getting teased, or maybe it was that they were to overwhelmed with the ability to go outside for lunch. In 7th grade children tried to hand out cards and candy while others made cards with little chainsaws and bloody cleavers painted on them (i tried). And now in 8th grade kids felt compelled to give there "friends" roses and strange weeds that you would find in a deserted field (if you need further explanation watch the video we are watching in science).
On friday kids got there letters with the letters NYC printed on the top that look like they will eat someone which is a bit scary to say the least. And then underneath is quite possibly their future They make it VERY clear if you dont get because there are some nice little neat
and they make you feel sad and depressed.
The stomach flu sucks but in my opinion you shouldn't be THAT mean to it. Here's how i picture it:
You should be nice because the stomach bug suffers from vomiting and aches as well and they want friends.
Bye for now, Lucky and Jazz

Things i find on the interwebs

As a normal thirteen-year-old, I spend most of my life on the internet. But throughout my thirteen-year-old life, rather than discarding the odd images, that I find,most involving cats, I often save them in a folder on my desk top. Today, I'll show you a few.

This is a cat. In a suit. Dancing. Oh my, this is odd. only later did I realize that this came with a song. this is the fuldans cat. just so you know, the band is fulkultur, which means ugly culture, and the song is fuldans, which means ugly dance.

This, my friends, is a photo of two cats. The way I found this was by searching tilak, an indian religious forehead paint thing, commonly confused with the non-religious bindi. now, I thought, "WHAT THE H*** DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH A TILAK?!?" Well, it turns out that the name of the image was "Glyn_aka_tilak_photo16.jpgn" neither the name not any of the words translate to anything on Google translate.

this last image is no doubt the creepiest. I am truly scared of it. This is a picture of an old lady morphed with a cat. the title of this image is "scary-old-witch.jpg." What is this? I remember what it was that I got this from. It was on some very immature propoganda site that said that "Harry Potter" was an "occult novel" and that your "innocent christian children" shouldn't read it. WHAT IS THIS?!?!!?!?!? this is the most racist, untrue filth that I have ever read.

And last but not least, a pic of Astrids cat, Edward, who is so cool:

best wishes to you all,
-Guy Noël Futterhorn

PS: remember, 1=10° is black, citrine,russet, and olive colored.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


I want to acknowledge the new people in the blog. Ben and Emmie. Welcommee

To Do List

Things I Have To do in the remainder of the week:
-write a sonnet (AHH hard)
-learn a solo
-write this blog post
-consider posting more creative things on the blog
-watch my brothers play football in my 12-foot wide house
-survive a triple period ELA lesson about sonnets
-try to admit to myself that I'm scared about friday
-try not to forget my music for band
-freak out about SHSAT results
-survive 6th and 7th period band on a friday
-get out of school
-party cause it's friday
-open a letter. Or maybe not. But hopefully.
-sleep in until noon on saturday
-stay up until late saturday night

P.S. Ben, don't worry about what you should post. Seriously. Just post anything you want to post.

I'm new, so... yeah!

Hola, I'm Ben. I just joined this today,so I have no Idea what I'm supposed to write about (answer me in comments). You see, I've only read posts for a little bit, and so far I've seen both random and serious posts. Which one do I do?!?!?!? Also, do I write my name at the end of each post, or no? Well, I've decided to use the pseudonym Guy Noël Fütterhorn. Also, I've decided its important you know this piece of info: מ, water, 40, The hanged man, xii (12). I hope this will help you one day.
until next time,
-Guy Noël Fütterhorn (Ben)


HELLO this is an example post for zoe :) anyyyway bag pipes sound amazing. Now POST!!!

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Hot Glue Gun

Burnt me.
It really hurt.
My brother was making this model using toy soldiers. He got bored so he decided to wave the hot glue gun around. Genius. Now I have a big red spot on my hand. Well, at least the good news is that tomorrow is friday.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Hey people I know you are probably
most likely
Probably not

reading this right now at blog, in ms. Block's classroom - HI MS. BLOCK

so guys, I am home, unfortunately, so hi, how are you all, who is there and who isn't fill me in, of course I am writing this at what, 8:06 AM on Tuesday, so I will probably see the next post tomorrow,or later, guess what SPRING IS COMING! YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Punxutawney Phil didn't see his shadow, no more winter yahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! but Bloomberg diddn't get bitten...


Have you ever looked out your window, I mean not just normally but just stopped and stared?

I did this morning, and as I looked over the rusted metal fence to the abandoned overgrown train tracks below, that maybe once or twice a week, carry freight trains across to who knows where... But As I looked up into the trees which highlighted the early morning sky,I noticed a nest, and I just stared at it, and out of the thicket of branches, i saw a child, a baby pigeon, and with the fluttering of wings, I saw its mother had remained close by.

Perhaps to go looking for food, or perhaps not, and although in my life I have seen many a pigeon, most of which to me,almost littered the streets of new york city, in the train stations, the streets, outside stores, looming menacingly over windowsills, back first, there was something touching in that moment, a connection between mother and child, and a strong one at that.

Can they too feel?

can they to feel love, anguish, passion, guilt, or are they just New York's trash cans? While it is engraved in my nature to be a cynic, and I would GLADLY choose the latter, I feel that they do deserve a quiet sense of respect, they are alive, and they too have a life to live like us, so why shouldn't they have emotions too? Why can't they feel loss, or joy?

They can.

ps. sorry I haven't posted in a while guys - Eli

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Things about right now, part 2

Time: 6:42 am
I'm: sitting in my room writing this
thinking about: what I should post on the blog after this
and: if anyone else other than me has posted this week
or: if anyone will.
I want to: sleep
specifically: right now.
or: in five minutes.
I should: be writing a more creative post than this
but: whatcha gonna do.
now the time is: 6:45
because: again, it took me three minutes to write the last lines.
now: I'm kinda hungry.
now: I'm talking to my sister.
now: I'm rubbing my eyes cause they hurt from staring at this computer.
because: I've been watching things on hulu for the past 30-40 minutes.
now: I'm thinking that we should get more people to read this
because: it is fun to write these things, and probably fun to read. Maybe.
and finally: I'm thinking of something witty to conclude this post with and deciding that this is fine.
Just fine.