Hah.

Ugh. I can feel my ears closing in. I hate it, it's like "Hello, I am the hole in your ear. I'm trying to take my sides and squeeze them until I no longer exist." I really need to get them repierced or something.

Anyways. I officially have run out of things to talk about. Maybe not though. Maybe I just tweet a lot. Too much....

Oh yeah, have I told you all about the tattoo I'm getting? Yeah. I'm getting George, Paul, John, and Ringo along my forearm. In black lettering. Yeah. I know, the body is a temple and all that. But I have been planning this since I was seven years old. Seven. Years. Old. That's commitment. Also, at the same time, I'm getting a really small raven in between my thumb and pointer finger.

That's all. For now. Ugh OMG SOMEBODY HAD A GRUMPY CAT PICTURE

uh sorry. Grumpy Cat is my child, along with Honey Boo Boo and Spider Man.

Ya'll better redneckognize.

A Tribute

Okay, before I get serious into my comedy, I want to take a minute to remember Amy Winehouse. I was just going through my twitter (@awkwardsalad) and I realized that Amy's tweets still come to my phone. Not that there'll be anymore tweets coming from that account, but you know...

Amy was more than just a drug abuser. She was an intelligent lady and she had a beautiful soul. She was strong and talented. People remember her because of all the scandal, but there was so much more to Amy than that. You can hear it in her songs. You can see it in her eyes. There was more to her than the drugs.

Her music really helped me through every bad thing that happened. It continues to help me. I just think that people are remembering her for the wrong reasons and that's why I want to take a minute.

Amy Winehouse's first album, Frank, came out between 2002 and 2003. It has sold over 981,147 copies in the UK and 307,000 in the US.

Back to Black came out in 2006. It has sold over 20 million copies world wide.

She has a DVD and a tribute album, and has sold over 21 million albums over all. I say that's pretty successful.

So please, before you start in on my taste in music, or before you go after Amy Winehouse for drug use, remember. There's more to Amy than the drugs. There's more than anyone ever even knew.

Update c:

Okay, while I'm shifting gears, there may be a temporary hiatus. Like, two weeks or so. I'm...I really want to be a comedian. It's my dream career. So I really want to blog more and get this youtube channel me and my friends wanted to start up and running, because this is really a make or break deal. And I want to make it with every fiber of my being. I don't want to be a doctor or an accountant or even rich...I want to make fun of all those people. Jokes are jokes, people should really take them with a grain of salt. No matter how offensive, they're just jokes. Don't find them funny? Don't listen to me. Even though I'm great.

Like I said, probably a two week hiatu and then I'll explain how this will work. Seriously, share this with whomever because I dunno I feel like there are people like me out there that just love to laugh and I could use a duo partner c; No but seriosly, I really want feedback. On all of it.

Scott Michael

Brother. Son. Uncle. Best friend. He was probably the nicest man you would ever meet. He was smart and funny. He taught me how to treat animals and how to shoot a gun. He had a way with animals and they just instinctively knew that he would never hurt them. Lucky is his dog. Always will be. Lucky and Uncle Scott had the same brown eyes. They were the nicest brown eyes. They could make you feel safe and secure. They made you feel loved. I don't think I will ever be able to look at Lucky without being reminded of my uncle. I'm trying to write this without crying, though it's proving to be a daunting task. I can only get a couple sentances out and then I have to go read something funny my friends did. Oh gosh, what can I even say about him that people aren't already thinking? He never really was one for nicknames, but he called me Squirt. Actually, he called all of us Squirt at first. Eventually though, I became the second shortest in thef amily (besides Abby, she has an excuse) so I was really the only one who was called Squirt. I don't really think I could handle it if somebody were to just call me that. Not only was he my uncle, but he was my friend. A good friend. Probably one of the best I will ever have. He wasn't judgemental, he wasn't mean, and he wasn't perfect. I don't know if he ever really knew how much we really loved and appreciated him, but neither one of us were really the touchy feely type. I wish that I could go back and tell him how important he was to me. I just want everyone to know that no matter what happens or what happened, I will always love you. It's hard to lose someone as amazing as Scott Michael Peacock. Sitting here, writing this, I still haven't fully processed it. I'm sitting here, wishing he would just walk through that door.

Dear Uncle Scott,
I love you.
Love,
Squirt

[Insert Wittyness Here]

I don't really feel like talking about anything deep and meaningful. Shit happens. Life happenED. At least I have my music. Music is everything, and sometimes it's all you've got. For me, music is No Doubt, Halestorm, Karmin, Lady Gaga, Michael Jackson, Volbeat, Shinedown, Taylor Swift (Shut Up. Judge and I kill you.), Carrie Underwook, and Eminem. There are others, but when my uncle died yesterday, I wanted nothing more than to get to know my CDs better. There's just something about opening the case and takeing out the cover, pouring over the lyrics and keeping them close. Yes, I own an iPod. Two, actually. But I have a billion CDs. They're more...personal, I guess.

Sorry this thing is all about music, it's just when people let youdown, or they make you cry, or youjust want to be by yourself, you can just put in The Strange Case Of or Hello. You'll be alone without truly being alone. Music is always there for me and has never let me down. I'm not antisocial, I just...it's hard to explain.

Well in the past 48 hours I've gotting like six hours of sleep. So I bid thee farewell <3

Halestorm

Okay. Sorry for the long wait. I really am. I was really busy working at a haunted house and stuff...Yeah. Anyways.

The Butterfly Project:

1. When you feel like you want to cut, take a marker, pen, or sharpies and draw a butterfly on your arm or hand.

2. Name the butterfly after a loved one, or someone that really wants you to get better.

3. You must let the butterfly fade naturally. NO scrubbing it off.

4. If you cut before the butterfly is gone, you’ve killed it. If you dont cut, it lives.

5. If you have more than one butterfly, cutting kills all of them.

6. Another person may draw them on you. These butterflies are extra special. Take good care of them.

7. Even if you don’t cut, feel free to draw a butterfly anyways, to show your support. If you do this, name it after someone you know that cuts or is suffering right now, and tell them. It could help.

 

 

 

That's my big thing right now. I have two. Because I was there once. It doesn't solve anything though. It's...I can't really explain it. It just feels like it helps. But it doesn't. It makes you feel weak. You're the only person you're hurting by doing that. And it sucks because you feel like you're helping yourself and...ugh. It's a bad place to be.

 

Well. That's all. For now. but remember. Somebody really does care. <3

It's Today!!!

Okay so this is gonna be as short as the other ones but I'm here to give you hope (Not that anybody is actually following this) but anyways. Today. At about 6. I will be updating even more.