For the past 15 days, I've been too busy with school and basketball. I lost my passion for writing and I allowed Showtime's Palace to turn into an old and rusty shack. I've found my passion and I'm ready to compete with V. She must fancy me a little to invite me back into the wonderful life of blogging. Her words cut deep into my soul as she denied her blog to be put on tape for me or anyone else. She allowed my inner artist to burst out of my tall frame! I thank her for showing me the way, but she must prepare to step up her game! Not sure how long someone, even as talented and entertaining as V, can continue to write about a strong negative connection to the hottest pair of shoes in the universe, they're are a hit and burn calories as you sit!
On a quick note concerning Sadie's... Showtime's Palace is still quite vacant and lonely. But for guys that have their Palace occupied by an amazing young woman and still waiting to say yes, wait no longer Showtime's Palace is filled to the grand ceiling with fantastic ideas. Might just have to save one for me, but if I don't get asked... I'll reveal all and will find emotional comfort by eating chocolate-chip cookies and playing my trustworthy x-box for a few long weeks. I'll stop playing when the tears stop streaming down my face of sorrow and despair. I'm sure this is a very common coping strategy, so don't leave any of us alone.
C'mon ladies! It's showtime!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Introducing: Showtime's Sexy Tips
I've been informed that girls want to go on dates, not just school dance dates. Crazy? It's hard to understand, as guys, but we should step it up! Showtime will lead the charge and allow some very special lady into his palace!
Leave a couple successful date ideas and a couple stories too. I don't mind a break from storytelling sometimes.
Leave a couple successful date ideas and a couple stories too. I don't mind a break from storytelling sometimes.
Dealt with Hate
Hate is a powerful emotion that dominates the ideals and actions of many through out all of time. This euphoric concept is quite deceitful as it silences sorrow and suffering, while generating artificial happiness. Many hate a lot of things, but I only hate a few.
I love the sport of football, but just happen to hate the New England Patriots and their ignorant fans who embarrass themselves and the city of Boston. Let's take a journey... Boston was a horrible team before Tom Brady, without the hair or dramatized plays there was a consistent 11 Patriots fans. Beginning to win and win big, the "band wagon" rolled in and thousands piled on.
To be sworn to an athletic team means you need to have physical and emotional connections. My squad, the Pittsburgh Steelers, have been the Harkness' team for decades. Harkness is my middle name and my mother's maiden name, if you got lost. Most "Boston" fans have never been to Boston and struggle to find it on a map. Arrogance and stupidity run deep in Boston. They lack the class and sophistication of Yankees fans, like myself.
I truly and strongly dislike the demonic practice of performing card games anywhere at anytime. Emotionally belittled and embarrassed for years by my competitive grandparents, I've developed a rough spot in my heart for those smiling royalty and assortment of colored numbers. Before I took a stand against the humiliating torture, me and my sister would be placed in a series of awkward scenarios. The scenarios, with our compliance, resulted in Game Night sleepovers at the grandparent's. Entering the dungeon of bad feelings and numerous losses, I prepared for a very long night. Too long, I quickly realized after five minutes. Hours go by and I'm still left with no wins, just 19 tough losses. My only relief is the drowsiness and slight joy provided by my water "spiked" with benadryl.
I apologize for my short temper when asked to play, try to understand my circumstances. Card games are fun until you get dealt a hand of hate. I haven't played every card game, if you think you can make me overcome my tortuous past and enjoy the game of cards... Don't be a hata', I want you playa'!
I love the sport of football, but just happen to hate the New England Patriots and their ignorant fans who embarrass themselves and the city of Boston. Let's take a journey... Boston was a horrible team before Tom Brady, without the hair or dramatized plays there was a consistent 11 Patriots fans. Beginning to win and win big, the "band wagon" rolled in and thousands piled on.
To be sworn to an athletic team means you need to have physical and emotional connections. My squad, the Pittsburgh Steelers, have been the Harkness' team for decades. Harkness is my middle name and my mother's maiden name, if you got lost. Most "Boston" fans have never been to Boston and struggle to find it on a map. Arrogance and stupidity run deep in Boston. They lack the class and sophistication of Yankees fans, like myself.
I truly and strongly dislike the demonic practice of performing card games anywhere at anytime. Emotionally belittled and embarrassed for years by my competitive grandparents, I've developed a rough spot in my heart for those smiling royalty and assortment of colored numbers. Before I took a stand against the humiliating torture, me and my sister would be placed in a series of awkward scenarios. The scenarios, with our compliance, resulted in Game Night sleepovers at the grandparent's. Entering the dungeon of bad feelings and numerous losses, I prepared for a very long night. Too long, I quickly realized after five minutes. Hours go by and I'm still left with no wins, just 19 tough losses. My only relief is the drowsiness and slight joy provided by my water "spiked" with benadryl.
I apologize for my short temper when asked to play, try to understand my circumstances. Card games are fun until you get dealt a hand of hate. I haven't played every card game, if you think you can make me overcome my tortuous past and enjoy the game of cards... Don't be a hata', I want you playa'!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Blood Vs. Vanity Crap
As a distinguished member of H.O.S.A, at my beloved high school, I had the fantastic opportunity of managing the Check-In Station of the blood drive. All day, I checked names, looked at driver's licenses, and weighed very nervous teenagers flooding through small awkward doors of the small gym. Not only productive, but official was how I rolled with my professional club t-shirt. I expected respect when I got the power in this situation, but that didn't happen much. I just got past over in the process many times, possibly a compliment. Imagining with all of my positive power, I believe that the dozens of students walking past me were because I was quite thin and hard to see. I have been trying to eliminate a couple calories a day from my diet, resulting in a solid 0.017 pounds weight loss so far. I'll continue to work on it, but the large assortment of treats were too delicious to avoid. For some reason, chocolate chip cookies of any brand know me and I know them. They desire to be eaten, I often oblige to their ridiculous request. Yet more interesting then cookies that can communicate through brain waves were the staff working in the blood drive.
A talented receptionist near my station dominated the scene with her orders and swift speed in typing information into her outdated laptop. Her name is Esther, often tormented with another name... Uncle Fester, she is a wonderful woman who satisfied her boredom with talking to me. I know everything about this West Jordan native and her husband Scott. She demanded her wedding be on a date that she could remember, it was decided that 09/08/07 would work. Showtime was deeply scarred by our conversation about her weight, even though it was quite informative about the female brain. She was a runner in high school, but got in a car accident and damaged her spine. Preventing her from movement for years, she eventually became "fluffy". No matter, what matters is on the inside! Esther is a quick witted, honest, and hard-working lady. She has the personality, just needs a pair of Shape-ups to become a solid beach babe.
More entertaining then cookies with personalities or genuinely grand women are kids mesmerized by blood. In the process of screening teenagers from donors, weight becomes a issue. Due to facts of low blood pressure and size, many short girls were turned down due to being too skinny. Bulk up ladies! As a man and blood drive supervisor, I like my women with more smiles and less protruding bones.
Quick fact: Every 20 pounds= 1 pint of blood. Also, you can lose up to 4 pints of blood without a serious complication.
Most enjoyable was the passion of these denied donors either for foreign traveling, low iron, or blood pressure issues. As a battle cry from the hall, "I know that I have the blood that everyone needs! I know it, people will die because you won't let me in!" Not effective, but very valiant.
Overall, donate some of your life source to the world. A quick 45 minutes of your day, the workers just jam a large straw into your arm and take turns sucking, then spitting your coagulated blood into opened Ziploc bags. Very clean and always very effective. Not sure if the donors or nurses get more light headed. You be the judge. If you don't donate, how fun is it letting little kids die?
A talented receptionist near my station dominated the scene with her orders and swift speed in typing information into her outdated laptop. Her name is Esther, often tormented with another name... Uncle Fester, she is a wonderful woman who satisfied her boredom with talking to me. I know everything about this West Jordan native and her husband Scott. She demanded her wedding be on a date that she could remember, it was decided that 09/08/07 would work. Showtime was deeply scarred by our conversation about her weight, even though it was quite informative about the female brain. She was a runner in high school, but got in a car accident and damaged her spine. Preventing her from movement for years, she eventually became "fluffy". No matter, what matters is on the inside! Esther is a quick witted, honest, and hard-working lady. She has the personality, just needs a pair of Shape-ups to become a solid beach babe.
More entertaining then cookies with personalities or genuinely grand women are kids mesmerized by blood. In the process of screening teenagers from donors, weight becomes a issue. Due to facts of low blood pressure and size, many short girls were turned down due to being too skinny. Bulk up ladies! As a man and blood drive supervisor, I like my women with more smiles and less protruding bones.
Quick fact: Every 20 pounds= 1 pint of blood. Also, you can lose up to 4 pints of blood without a serious complication.
Most enjoyable was the passion of these denied donors either for foreign traveling, low iron, or blood pressure issues. As a battle cry from the hall, "I know that I have the blood that everyone needs! I know it, people will die because you won't let me in!" Not effective, but very valiant.
Overall, donate some of your life source to the world. A quick 45 minutes of your day, the workers just jam a large straw into your arm and take turns sucking, then spitting your coagulated blood into opened Ziploc bags. Very clean and always very effective. Not sure if the donors or nurses get more light headed. You be the judge. If you don't donate, how fun is it letting little kids die?
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Birthday Special: Robbed by Roberts
There is a thief who roams the hoods of South Orem and everyday steals something from everyone around her. The thing she seeks no one wants, but everyone deals with it during their struggles of failed math tests or the hundredth time your smokin' hot crush walks by without recognizing your existence. The simple fact is all of us have endured hardships, therefore in our hearts and minds we begin to build up a supply of negativity.
This creature of the night shines so bright with happiness and innocence that magical hands collect every one's negativity around her and turn it into an uplifting rhythm of joy and smiles. This good witch is called many positive names, but most of us call her Kelsey Roberts.
I remember the first time I experienced her calming effects nearly two years ago. I was heading over to the hottest and baddest party in town, blinded by the flashing lights of a rotating disco ball and being subjected to appropriate, yet classy, selections from the hit list... I was prepared for a wild night. Making this party rock was me and the rest of my stake dressed in an array of modest costumes. I just happened to be a talented California Raisin ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_California_Raisins), while Roberts dominated the cowgirl look. We danced it up, I knew it was meant to be.
Showtime did have a relationship with Roberts, but unfortunately that Showtime was immature, indecisive, and most importantly not as good looking or as funny. It ended. As always, she was great with her creative word searches and amazing stories. Between me being selfish or just unable to understand my emotions, I didn't make my ninth grade love story happen.
Because of it though, I was able to meet two fantastic ladies. Once again those emotions burst into the scene, the only message I got was abandon ship. It's taken sometime, but I'm closer to understanding and embracing my complex emotions.
Ripping my mind from the past and experiencing the present, I've been so happy to spend some great nights with the gang. This gang is full of unbelievable people, especially Roberts. I often call this group my team because we all have a common goal to have a fantastic time! This day Kelsey Roberts is MVP of my team or any other team! Let's continue to celebrate our anniversary of a solid and super fun friendship!
Kelsey Roberts is always welcome in Showtime's Palace!
This creature of the night shines so bright with happiness and innocence that magical hands collect every one's negativity around her and turn it into an uplifting rhythm of joy and smiles. This good witch is called many positive names, but most of us call her Kelsey Roberts.
I remember the first time I experienced her calming effects nearly two years ago. I was heading over to the hottest and baddest party in town, blinded by the flashing lights of a rotating disco ball and being subjected to appropriate, yet classy, selections from the hit list... I was prepared for a wild night. Making this party rock was me and the rest of my stake dressed in an array of modest costumes. I just happened to be a talented California Raisin ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_California_Raisins), while Roberts dominated the cowgirl look. We danced it up, I knew it was meant to be.
Showtime did have a relationship with Roberts, but unfortunately that Showtime was immature, indecisive, and most importantly not as good looking or as funny. It ended. As always, she was great with her creative word searches and amazing stories. Between me being selfish or just unable to understand my emotions, I didn't make my ninth grade love story happen.
Because of it though, I was able to meet two fantastic ladies. Once again those emotions burst into the scene, the only message I got was abandon ship. It's taken sometime, but I'm closer to understanding and embracing my complex emotions.
Ripping my mind from the past and experiencing the present, I've been so happy to spend some great nights with the gang. This gang is full of unbelievable people, especially Roberts. I often call this group my team because we all have a common goal to have a fantastic time! This day Kelsey Roberts is MVP of my team or any other team! Let's continue to celebrate our anniversary of a solid and super fun friendship!
Kelsey Roberts is always welcome in Showtime's Palace!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
It's Time to Rise: A Student of Blogging
Every other day for a while now I have been deeply moved by the sheer honesty, brutal impact, and sophisticated word choice of a genius in our own beloved city of Orem. Her words have caressed the minds of hundreds who come to experience her comments of common sleepiness in school and church, the inefficiency of Shape-ups, or how it is possible that Harry Potter and his magical gang are real.
This goddess of knowledge and power is simply known as V. Her abilities are impossible to match! V's skills not only can be found on the field, but can be found in the classroom. A mysterious fairy that is intelligent and a devastator on the dance floor? She does exist and I'm proud to call her my mentor.
It's time for me to rise and begin to creep out of the blogging shadows to stardom. To begin I'll relay a story of much importance to my current social status in Seminary:
Simply put, I'm quite spiritual and comfortable with the hymns. I'm not much of a singer, by no means, but I take pride in my performance while singing one of my beloved church songs. It is a very serious scenario every A4 class period for myself and a few who understand my longing to become famous. At the top of my list of serious sins is disrupting the opening hymn with obnoxious chattering or unbearable laughing. Unfortunately, my class is a sinful bunch who believe they have the right to gossip while I find my inner peace.
Weeks went by and I never said a word, I remained shy and continued to sing through the sounds of disrespect and selfishness. Like a bottle holds soda, I buried and held my emotions of hurt and hate deep in my soul for weeks. Also like a bottle if wrestled with it'll explode, to the dismay of my class, I exploded. A small trio of chatting and disruptive females decided to be my victim. After the destroyed song, we began our small testimony and one of them stood up. She spoke, but I was blinded by wit and anger. Once she sat down and continued to talk, I simply turned around and looked at them. Then I said,"At least one of you is actually worth something." Immediately I felt such relief and happiness as I was made aware of the thing I wished for most... silence. I also was made aware that I had stamped my ticket to Hell and loneliness.
It is now been a week and I'm still left alone during group scripture reading and discussions, but enjoying the pressure of saying whatever prayer or prayers that I get assigned each time. I've received numerous compliments from various classmates throughout the week for my provided entertainment, but none seem to find me in class. Currently my seat and scriptures are reserved for those with Leprosy. I've just been diagnosed by that trio of girls, it seems the only cure for this situation can be found in a sincere apology. I continue to suppress my pride in preparation for this meeting.
I declare: It's Showtime!
This goddess of knowledge and power is simply known as V. Her abilities are impossible to match! V's skills not only can be found on the field, but can be found in the classroom. A mysterious fairy that is intelligent and a devastator on the dance floor? She does exist and I'm proud to call her my mentor.
It's time for me to rise and begin to creep out of the blogging shadows to stardom. To begin I'll relay a story of much importance to my current social status in Seminary:
Simply put, I'm quite spiritual and comfortable with the hymns. I'm not much of a singer, by no means, but I take pride in my performance while singing one of my beloved church songs. It is a very serious scenario every A4 class period for myself and a few who understand my longing to become famous. At the top of my list of serious sins is disrupting the opening hymn with obnoxious chattering or unbearable laughing. Unfortunately, my class is a sinful bunch who believe they have the right to gossip while I find my inner peace.
Weeks went by and I never said a word, I remained shy and continued to sing through the sounds of disrespect and selfishness. Like a bottle holds soda, I buried and held my emotions of hurt and hate deep in my soul for weeks. Also like a bottle if wrestled with it'll explode, to the dismay of my class, I exploded. A small trio of chatting and disruptive females decided to be my victim. After the destroyed song, we began our small testimony and one of them stood up. She spoke, but I was blinded by wit and anger. Once she sat down and continued to talk, I simply turned around and looked at them. Then I said,"At least one of you is actually worth something." Immediately I felt such relief and happiness as I was made aware of the thing I wished for most... silence. I also was made aware that I had stamped my ticket to Hell and loneliness.
It is now been a week and I'm still left alone during group scripture reading and discussions, but enjoying the pressure of saying whatever prayer or prayers that I get assigned each time. I've received numerous compliments from various classmates throughout the week for my provided entertainment, but none seem to find me in class. Currently my seat and scriptures are reserved for those with Leprosy. I've just been diagnosed by that trio of girls, it seems the only cure for this situation can be found in a sincere apology. I continue to suppress my pride in preparation for this meeting.
I declare: It's Showtime!
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