<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379</id><updated>2011-07-31T03:28:09.433-07:00</updated><category term='flu'/><category term='swine'/><title type='text'>Nix IT</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to Nix IT, where any topic, IS the topic. I talk about anything, from computers to the home life in a humorous and entertaining manner, because no one likes a blog that lectures to them all day.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-6679015564508651908</id><published>2009-07-04T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T08:20:26.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My opinion of Transformers: Revenge of the fallen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;You've seen it, You've heard it. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen was probably the worst reviewed movie to make as much money as it did. Critics complained of too much CG, no plot, and too much action.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to see T2 (Transformers 2) when it came out on June 24th. Before I went to see the first showing at 11:45, I checked to see what the critics gave it. I went to RottenTomatoes and to my amazement, the critics gave it a 20/100. So I read a few reviews, and quickly saw that the critics have watched too many dramas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here they are, complaining about TOO many special effects and explosions. Really? According to my book, there can NEVER be too many special effects and explosions in ANY action movie. So at that point I was pumped.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I went to the movie, got my tickets and popcorn and shiz, and saw T2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is the best Action movie I have ever seen. However, it lacks depth in it's storyline, to the point that critial adults may be more focused on the plot than the actual movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to break this down into sections:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Effects&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plot:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As many have said about Transformers 2, it's plot is shaky at best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The basic flow of the movie is this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The US is now partners with the autobots, they go around finding and killin decepticons. They kill some, but the decepticons blow up half the city, so the US is now in trouble. Sam is going off to college and Mkayla are now separated. So he goes there and gets seduced by this hot chick who is part robot, she tries to kill him but sam escapes. Only to be captured by Blackout and taken to a warehouse where he is almost pwned by Megatron. Optimus saves him and takes him to the woods where he fights the decepticons...no PWNS the decepticons until he is anally raped by megatron. With optimus dead, this fugly robot, "The Fallen" comes to earth to try to eat the sun. A bunch of decepticons come, to get ready to fight this battle over the leadership matrix...or something like that. Well sam meets up with that guy from S7 from the last movie, and they go to egypt looking for the thing. They are tracked by soundwave who's a fuggin awesome satellite bot, they find the matrix but as soon as they touch it it turns to dust, but sam thinks it can revive optimus, so they run off to a city to try and save him. Well as they are getting there, thedecepticons attack and a huge battle ensues, devastator comes to life and just pwns the shit out of the great pyramid however, he's shot in the back by a rail gun. Sam eventually reachesoptimus after dying once, he puts the matrix in optimus's chest, and he's alive. The Fallen then takes the matrix and teleports to the great pyramid, which apparently hid this sun eater. So he starts it up, but optimus merges parts with this other robot and flies to the pyramid, where he blows up the sun eater and beats the living shit out of "The Fallen". Afterwards Sam and Mykalaare so in love blah blah blah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is no depth in this movie. Essentially this is the same plot as the last movie. Autobotscome, decepticons come, they fight over one thing the entire movie. That's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Effects:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though the plot sucked, the winning punch for this movie was it's special effects.From the start of this movie, all you see is robots fighting each other, and being damn good at it. The best fight scene in my opinion was the one where optimus is beating the shit out of the decepticons in the woods. Not only did he talk crap, he backed it up by ripping off arms and bustin jaws. I loved every second of it. The rest of the movie showed many transformations of the robots, but also it showed that the autobots are no punks, like they were in the last movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess the last thing is just other elements like acting and comedy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The acting was ok, to be honest, most of any acting on the actors part was running away from robots, or being smashed into stuff. That's it. But the comedy was on point. From the second scene of this movie onward, there are little snippets of ironic comedy all throughout this movie, ESPECIALLY when mudflaps and his twin hit the scene. I laughed a lot in this movie, something that's pretty rare in these types of films.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after all of this, what do I rate it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since this is an action movie, I didn't care about the plot, all I cared about was the action. So for an action movie I give it a 9/10, simply because there wasn't another 6 tons of explosives used.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're the average american, you're going to love this movie. However if you're one of those critical intellectual types, well then I wouldn't suggest this movie to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-6679015564508651908?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/6679015564508651908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-opinion-of-transformers-revenge-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6679015564508651908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6679015564508651908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-opinion-of-transformers-revenge-of.html' title='My opinion of Transformers: Revenge of the fallen'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-2858774439799353869</id><published>2009-07-03T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T20:34:04.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moderators Suck</title><content type='html'>The Naturalmotion moderators suck:&lt;div&gt;http://community.naturalmotion.com/forum/showthread.php?t=35063&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How dare they shake their moderation powers in our faces? It's like a girl who strips naked and rubs all on you, but says she only wants to dry hump. FUUUUUUU-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-2858774439799353869?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/2858774439799353869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/moderators-suck.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2858774439799353869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2858774439799353869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/moderators-suck.html' title='Moderators Suck'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7344496872347836581</id><published>2009-07-03T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T20:30:05.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The one thing that sucks about creating websites</title><content type='html'>Browsers.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is nothing that will make me lose hair faster than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; browsers. IE, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Firefox&lt;/span&gt;, and the like all keep me up at 3 Am trying to finish something. As a wise man once said, 10% of your time is spent trying to make your website. The other 90% is making your website &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;compatible&lt;/span&gt; with all browsers, or at least all of the good ones. Which ones? IE, Firefox, Safari, Chrome, and Opera. Each browser has it's own quirks:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cant use a margin of 8px with IE, oh no, I have to set it's position to absolute. I can't float the div to the left without it getting messed up. That's IE for ya, screwing everything else up. Firefox, Chrome and Safari loved the page! But IE? Oh no. They hate simplicity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If any developer of said browsers is bored enough to read this blog. Understand this. MEET UP AND AGREE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING BROWSERS! Make life easy for everyone, and find a common ground. So I only have to spend 30 minutes making a site instead of 4 hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7344496872347836581?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7344496872347836581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-thing-that-sucks-about-creating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7344496872347836581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7344496872347836581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-thing-that-sucks-about-creating.html' title='The one thing that sucks about creating websites'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-4856537180356941754</id><published>2009-06-18T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:52:26.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wannabe hackers are stupid</title><content type='html'>On the Naturalmotion forum, I made a thread asking for ideas for a program to write. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Above all of the other requests, the thing I was asked to write the most was a hacking tool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you people serious!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would NEVER write a program for a bunch of kiddies who want to hack their friends. You want to know how most hackers get caught? It's because they are a bunch of KIDS who think it'd be sooo kewl for them to hack into something. Do they know what they're doing? No. Do they understand how the hack works? No. Do they understand the systems, the protocals, ANYTHING!? No. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What they want to do, is press a button, and hack. They expect it to be like the movies. Beautiful GUI's and random numbers flying across the screen. THEY think hacking is a no brain activity. Enter the IP address and press HACK. That's what they want to do. They don't want to learn, they don't want to explore. No. They just want to hack into something, and break stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's not what hacking is about. Hacking is about finding flaws in something and making it better. You people want to know why I'm so good at what I do? It's because I sit down on my computer for 6 hours wondering why something wont work or how to make something better. It's because I don't give up when I can't figure it out the FIRST time. It's because I WANT to learn new things and not be a mindless idiot. That's why I'm so good with computers, and that's why I CAN HACK into something if I wanted to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These kiddies on the forums couldn't hack their way into a cereal box. So then why would I write them something so they could "hack" into a computer. Only so they could screw something up and get caught be the FBI hours later. Then squeal on the guy who wrote them to program. Please, give me a break. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If they want to hack something so bad, they can drop $200 bucks in my lap and I'll write them whatever they want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-4856537180356941754?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/4856537180356941754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/wannabe-hackers-are-stupid.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4856537180356941754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4856537180356941754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/wannabe-hackers-are-stupid.html' title='Wannabe hackers are stupid'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-3822330658345414422</id><published>2009-06-18T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:34:48.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL Girls are funny</title><content type='html'>Ahhhh women...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If any of you guys have been living long enough, you can probably relate to this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright. So it was graduation night for my old school. AKA Project Graduation. Essentially what it is is a lockin type of thing where you and your fellow graduates all hang out for the entire night in an effort to keep you all from going out and getting wasted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm there just to talk with my friends and get some numbers. You know, my old friends numbers. Yeah I know where your brain went. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm there, and while I'm there one of my old friends wants me to talk with her blah blah. So I go sit on the other side of the gym and she starts leaning on me, hard. So I'm like: NICE! I'm finally black enough to do it right! So basically the whole night we hang out together, she's layin in me and stuff, and midway through the night she starts complaining about "OH! I havent had sex in threeee months!" So I was like...ok?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know this girl. She's what I like to call, a man hopper. She wants all men, all the time. She'll have a boyfriend, and other friends who will give it to her every now and again. So yeah, fellas, I'm not gay. She just aint my type.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, I'm like whatever. So we leave, and really I have no intention of going with this girl, but she is my friend and before we leave I see this wierd look on her face. She's upset. It bothers me a little, so on myspace I ask her what was wrong. She said that nothing was wrong but she was wondering about "us", and I was like..."What?" so then she says that she wanted to date me. REALLY!? Wow. I was surprised, and totally off guard. So like a retard I sent her a message back saying "Oh yes, I wanna be ur boifren. Cal me 2morro so we cn set sumthin up" so I go to sleep, and when I wake up, I'm back to my normal, analytical self. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I call her, and she says. "My phone is dead, I'll get back to you" When she said that, I said to myself. "Hmm...OK, we'll see miss" so I call her up the next day, same story. That gets my gears turning, so I go to myspace and check up on the status updates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, quick tip ladies. If you tell a guy one thing, and are really doing something else. DON'T POST IT ON MYSPACE. REALLY! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm looking through:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"waiting for you baby"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Can't wait for you to pick me up"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Going somewhere with my lil secret"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That aint me. At this point, any attraction is gone, because she's trying to mess with 3 guys at once. That is NOT a good thing to be a part of, especially the hood thugs she dates. However, I have nothing better to do, and I was quite bored, so I decided to continue to play along to see how it would play out. My prediction, was that she was horny that night and was all over me because I had a head and shaft she could use. She didn't get mine, but she did get this other guys. So now she wants him because he can put it on her whenever she wants. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I've got my popcorn and candy, and am checking the updates every night, really just to see what's going to happen next:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"BLANK and BLANK!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I love you BLANK"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"BLANK came over and can put it on me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was getting interesting, so one night I decide to take myself out of this triangle. I message her and we talk. The convo essentially ends when she says "I don't wanna date my friends" and then she lays down what I SHOULD have known all along. "I'm not the kind of girl you're looking for" BINGO! I knew that all along, yet, I got caught up. Meh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Normally, I'd leave it at that. However, the status updates were pretty interesting to read through:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some girl's pissed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some girl's happy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Same girl's pissed now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some guy is thinkin about xbox&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;same girl is happy again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;some girl's in love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;some guy think's he's in love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;some girl think she's hot (she's not)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and on and on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This particular girl, just happens to be mixed in with all the others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So last night I'm roaming through, bored, when I notice that the girl was having some party. I was supposed to be invited to that. I also saw that she was expectin loverboi too. That annoyed me a little bit, because as far as I'm concerned I see one pattern:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has a boi already&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's horny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wants another guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Says she wants to date other guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meets new guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;leads all three on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;continues with new guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;drops other guys&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;goes with other guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;repeat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So at the end of it all. I'm a little annoyed at myself for even getting involved in all of this. I already know the girl, I know her habits, and can see right through her, yet I lowered my guard and got sucked in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it was the fact that she caught me off guard and I wanted a girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Either way, it was totally worth it in the end, because I learned a little more about how funny girls are. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-3822330658345414422?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/3822330658345414422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/lol-girls-are-funny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/3822330658345414422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/3822330658345414422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/lol-girls-are-funny.html' title='LOL Girls are funny'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7405553418745028952</id><published>2009-06-18T08:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:05:33.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do they run and we lie?</title><content type='html'>I was watching some cop show the other night, and the pumped up narrator was like: "Why do they run, it's pointless", which got me thinking. Why would they run? This also coincides with why do we lie? Especially if we're going to get caught.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I think it's like this. If we tell the truth, we're giving up. There is no way to wiggle your way out of something if you tell the truth. Yeah officer, I've got 5 pounds of coke in this car. Ok. Guess what blackie, you're going TO-JAIL. Period. Yeah you admitted it, but the judge isn't going to be leniant on you because you towld da truf. Oh no. So heck, why not run? You get to test out your new Mercades, and you might even have a chance at getting away...well you would if you were intellegent enough to know how to evade someone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In any case, the same reason why criminals run is the same reason why WE lie. It's simply because if you do the "right thing" you're busted, there's no getting out of that. But if we lie/run, there's a chance we can get away with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when your mom/dad asks you why you lied to them, simply tell em that when you lied you had a chance at getting away with it, and that even though they caught you, you're still screwed, it's just that now they are a little more pissed at you. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7405553418745028952?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7405553418745028952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-do-they-run-and-we-lie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7405553418745028952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7405553418745028952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-do-they-run-and-we-lie.html' title='Why do they run and we lie?'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-4664817555375134144</id><published>2009-06-01T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:17:57.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm tired of adults.</title><content type='html'>I'm so sick of adults. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The further and further I get into this crap with my mom, the more and more I begin to hate the adults around me. There are over 15 people involved in this, and not a god damned one has done a THING to help this situation except for me the poor bastard in the middle. I'm the one who watches her, I'm the one who listens in on her phone calls, I'm the one who picked her room lock so I can monitor paperwork, I'm the one who makes MYSELF a target so she wont bother my brothers, I'm the one who puts his neck on the line every day, I'm the one who takes the brunt of my mothers anger, I'm the one who gets punched, slapped, and pushed around, I'm the one she calls the cops on, I'm the one who almost didn't graduate, I'm the one who almost went to juvenile because my mom lied, I'm the one who stays up until 2AM to ensure that mom isn't going to go suicidal, I'm the one who sleeps with a basket slanted with a 4 inch book in front of his face in the hope that a small round can't penetrate, I'm the one who makes suggestions and have them ignored, I'm the one who has to lie to his brothers and tell them that everything is ok when I don't know a damn myself, I'm the one who's nerves are shot, I'm the one who wants to cry but can't, I'm the one who needs counseling. THAT'S ME! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet I have adults, who THINK KEYWORD &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THINK&lt;/span&gt;! They know what's best, because they are adults. They don't know shit. Yet they continue to try and tell ME the man on the frontlines that I'm doing it wrong. No, you shouldn't use an M16 to fight terrorists, no no, use this airsoft gun. We know it works because when we were young that's how we took care of things. Yeah, how does that work out for us. We KNOW you're wrong, but because you're in command, we have to do it, and while we die and get obliterated because of YOUR stupid decisions, the WORST you have to worry about is how it will affect your career. That's it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm tired of adults. I can't tell you how many adults tell me "Stay in a childs place" WHAT!? Stay in a childs place is what you do when your parent is SANE! Not when your parent might FUCKING KILL YOU! Yet, when I defend myself. I'm the asshole who's wrong. ME. I go out and bust my ass day in and day out trying to keep this family together, and all they do at the end of it is tell me everything I did wrong. Yet, what the fuck are they doing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad does nothing but tell me to wait and see what happens. Yeah. The CIA said "Lets wait and see what those terrorists do, they wont do anything anyway" and what happened? 3000 people died? Just waiting and seeing. My dad sits at home with my mom's uncle, and though he comes out there, that's pretty much it. He hasn't been all the proactive with this shit, not unless something happens, then he's all up in arms, here in a heartbeat, ready to take on the world. That's the problem, how the hell do you protect people when by the time you get to them they are already fucked up? WHAT'S THE POINT!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have suggested PLAN after PLAN after PLAN. Preimptive measures. In C++ we call this the switch statement:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;switch(sanity_level){&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;case normal:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do_nothing;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;break;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;case mild:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;encourage_to_read_nice_book;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;break;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;case worse:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;go_to_shrink;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;break;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;case bad:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;remove_kids;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;break;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;case crazy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;get_court_order_for_shrink&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;break;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;}&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are my levels, since day ONE I've told my dad to GET FUCKING PAPERS. FORCE her to get her shit together. But noooo, all that resolve ends to nothing once everything cools off.Then it's back to wait and see. FUCK THAT. You don't have to do shit. You just sit back, if shit goes down, YOU aren't the one getting fucked up. It's ME, and my brothers. WE are the ones taking the hits. Not THEM. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The craziest part, of all this. Is that everybody's a christian. Meaning that they think that if they pray hard enough, she's gonna get well all by herself, and that's all fine and dandy. But uh...SHE CAN ALREADY GET FUCKING WELL. All she has to do is see a shrink, once that happens she's ok. But no, they don't want to get their hands dirty, it's easier to just pray. God said be faithful. Not be a fucking idiot. He didn't say jump off a 50 story building because he'll protect you. No. He said to be faithful when you're up and when you're down. He didn't say anything about not fixing things you CAN fix and to let him fix it. That's like me praying over a glass of spilled milk and praying for god to clean it up for me. When all I had to do was wipe it up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had I been in control, this would have been squashed the first week, and certainly after my mom beat up on my youngest brother. That would have been IT. But no, we are now two months into this. She has not gotten better, oh no, she gets worse. I've tried to reason with her and that failed. So now I don't acknowledge her. Every step of the way, I've tried to get the adults to SEE my side of things. To let them know that WE can't live like this. Yet they continue to ignore me and tell me that I'm a child. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well FUCK them. It doesn't matter whether you are a child or an adult, when you've got a crazy woman who wants to KILL YOU. What are you going to do? What? Because I'm a child I'm supposed to let her kill me? What kind of stupid ass logic is that? Oh wait, that's easy for them to say because their ass isn't on the line. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what I hate about parents and guardians. They like to call all the shots, but when it comes down to getting shit done, you rarely find one who'll get on their knees and get the shit done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so tired of adults. Or more specifically MY adults.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 Parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 cops&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 counselors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 Aunt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 Grandmother&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 Godparents&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 Godsister&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 Children&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of people who have done anything to help the situation: 1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the one who's gotta put up with it, and when I do all I can to ensure that my brothers, whom I now care for more than I do my own parents, are safe, I'm told not to do that. Because I am a child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fucking logical thinking there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry for the cursing, as you can tell I am not at all pleased. I'm so angry at these worthless adults in my life. I'm at the point of blowing the whistle and calling CPS to let them handle this shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-4664817555375134144?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/4664817555375134144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-tired-of-adults.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4664817555375134144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4664817555375134144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-tired-of-adults.html' title='I&apos;m tired of adults.'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7483698779123297739</id><published>2009-05-29T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T21:55:07.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate night time...</title><content type='html'>Ugh...I hate night time...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Night Time is the time of day where every single thought or experience I had in the previous 24 hours comes to a head and demands to be thouroghly analized, dissected, and concluded. It's the time of day where I have the most difficulty sleeping. Yeah, I can sleep in the middle of the day, but not at night...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my most nagging thoughts is that of my social life. Why is it at such a head? Well it's because I want one, yet my brain is telling me that something like that is not attainable. You see. My brain is saying that because I'm a zit faced, black, 17 year old virgin who's about to graduate high school. Any chances of a social life are 0 to none. Yet, the analytical side of my brain is saying that I can have one with the right personality. So then what is my personality type? Well I dunno.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People say that I am too tight, and to be honest I agree with them. My tightness comes from the years of school hell I've been through. I'm not this laid back kid I used to be. I don't smile as much, I'm not enthusiastic. I don't do stupid crap in public. It's almost like I think about every thing I do before I do it, and how it will make me look in the eyes of people. I believe that is the reason why I don't just talk to girls. It's the what-if's of the conversation. What if she rejects me. What if she's a bitch, and so on. Of course, right now. I know that doesn't matter. If she doesn't like me well then what can I do? Yet, when it's game time. And I'm looking at these girls I want to talk to. I don't act, I'm paralized...in fear. Of what they will say to me. All the while, my brain is saying DO IT. DO IT ASSHOLE! Yet I don't move, then I turn around and walk away. Ashamed that I even disgraced myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that's the cause of that. How to fix it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look on google for confidence boosters, and it slays out a bunch of self help websites that are supposed to tell me what I want to know. Unfortunately these wastes of internet space only tell me what I already know and NOT how to ACTUALLY solve my problem. One of my favorite tips on attracting women is "Be confident" yeah HOW DO I DO THAT!? No links to confidence builders. No subtitles. Just "Be confident" yet, how confident do you think a man is if he's going on a SELF HELP site. The same goes with the others. They never tell me anything I DON'T know already. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm stuck. I KNOW that what's wrong with me will need some thorough psychological counseling to remove the scars left by 3 years of ghetto black kids. Yet, my parents are nice enough to help me find a shrink to talk to, since, having few friends I don't have PEOPLE to talk to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOD! I hate being me sometimes. I just wish I had the ability to ONLY think positive. But I am so pessimistic towards myself, that it just doesn't even seem possible to get friends and such. Yet I have some. It's just making the next step, and being a better friend. THAT is what will get me out of this hole. I hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7483698779123297739?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7483698779123297739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hate-night-time.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7483698779123297739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7483698779123297739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hate-night-time.html' title='I hate night time...'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-4483332035795625970</id><published>2009-05-15T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T15:06:54.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God I feel crappy</title><content type='html'>I feel pretty bad at the moment. Once again I came to the realization that I really don't have many friends. I mean, I have people I talk to, yet I don't hang out with anyone, and to be honest I doubt that they want to hang out with me. The ironic thing about this, is that I know why it's like this. I'm pessemistic towards myself and everything. My jokes are dark many times, often citing the flaws in someone or they are serious sounding, when in reality I'm making a joke. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The worst part of all this, is that I didn't use to be this way. When I was in the 9th grade, before moving. I used to be this outgiong kid, ignorant as hell, and stupid, yet I enjoyed myself. I was alone, and had few friends, but really I always had a positive attitude. Then, I moved. Then, I went to a new school, and at this school, a positive attitude was looked upon as weakness. At my new school teachers and students alike would take advantage of my kindness, and use it against me. Eventually, I lost my kindness, my forgiving and careless heart. However, I also became smarter. I thought more, and I thought ahead, thinking of the many consequences of my actions. It was a hude tradeoff, smarts for the loss of myself. In many ways it's been for the good. In my isolation I've learned so much about computers. To be honest, (I think that) I have more experiece than a person who just got out of college as far as computers are concerned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet, this knowledge comes at a great price. The only reason why I even became as smart as I am now, is because I have been isolated from everyone else. I don't go out with friends. Well, in my old city it was because any people I wanted to hang around with were thugs, and were thus untouchable. I'm incredibly insecure, often putting myself down when I look in the mirror. I simply lack the confidence to get what I want. For example, today on the bus I wanted to talk to this girl. The timing was right, the mood was right, everything was right. I could have had her...but as soon as I was about to move I hesitated. I began thinking, and in many ways, my thoughts are my biggest downfall. I said to myself "There is no way she'll even talk to you", "You've got a stain on your shirt", and then I started to play it out in my head, in which I failed. All of this happened in a second, then I tried to force myself to do it. I wanted to move, but I didn't, and then I realized that I was paralyzed with fear. The fear of being rejected, yet again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In hind sight, even if she didn't like me, she still would have at least talked to me. However my insecurity and lack of confidence resulted in me simply giving up on something that would have made me feel great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know now, that it is imperative for me to see a psychiatrist. Simply because I've been going on like this for years. I mean, I don't even express myself anymore. I'm not kind, I'm not polite, I lack manners. It's like all of the things that made me a good person are gone now. I'm just this hard, souless person who wants desperately to be what he once was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I could wish for anything in the world right now, it would be for me to have all of my good qualities back again. My positive attitude, my confidence, my kindness, all of that, and also, to keep my intellegence. If only I could have both, I'd be a happy man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-4483332035795625970?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/4483332035795625970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/god-i-feel-crappy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4483332035795625970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4483332035795625970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/god-i-feel-crappy.html' title='God I feel crappy'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-5235718510342669921</id><published>2009-05-13T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T18:50:44.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The relationship between shakespearean literature and real life</title><content type='html'>In my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;english&lt;/span&gt; class we have been reading many plays by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shakespeare&lt;/span&gt;. First we read Macbeth, and now we have read Richard III. When we were reading Macbeth, I saw many similarities between the story, and what happens in real life. In a short summary, Macbeth was told by witches that he'd be king one day. So he goes about MAKING SURE he DOES become king. By killing the king. Then once he does become king, he starts eliminating his opposition. His worst murder being that of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Macduff's&lt;/span&gt; entire family. The play ends with Macbeth regretting all he does, and being defeated by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Macduff&lt;/span&gt; himself. Although I saw many similarities, I could not piece together anything current that I can relate to Macbeth. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That changed with Richard III. In Richard III, Richard the Duke of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Glouster&lt;/span&gt; wants to be king. However, Richard has no intention of doing it by noble means. At the beginning  of the play, in Act 1 Scene 1, Richard makes it clear that he does not intend to be the good guy in the play. Stating more exactly:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;a name="1.1.28"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a name="1.1.28"&gt;And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="1.1.29"&gt;To entertain these fair well-spoken days,&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="1.1.30"&gt;I am determined to prove a villain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;From the beginning, we see that Richard has plans already in motion in order to become king. Here's what happens. First, he makes the king hate his brother, the Duke of Clarence, by making a prophet tell the king that the person who will kill him will have a name with the letter 'G', and because the Duke of Clarence's name is "George", the king thinks he's going to murder him. So he's put into the tower. Little does he know, that Richard is going to have him killed. Which happens later in the play. Then Richard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wooes&lt;/span&gt; Anne, whose husband and brother he killed. He proposes marriage to her and she accepts. Still in act one, the deposed queen Margaret curses everyone in her midst. Essentially all of the main characters, including Richard. They all ignore her and go on with their lives. Later, the king wants everyone to make up and be friends. Well, Richard breaks the news that Clarence is dead, which upsets the king, accelerating his death. He dies and Richard becomes Lord Protector, which is just a title saying he's in charge. Why not king? Well the original king had a couple of sons. So they are next in line. So first, he kills the Noblemen loyal to the kings boys, then he has the sons locked into a tower for their "protection" now there is nothing in the way of the crown. He simply must get the common folk to allow him. So what does he do? He acts like he is a holy man doing holy work, appearing between two priests with a bible in his hands. My teacher put it best "You'd think that the bible would explode into flames right?" so after wooing the people he becomes king. So, now, he just has the kings sons as opposition. So he has them killed. By this time Richmond has gathered an army to dismount Richard from the crown and restore peace, and they head toward &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;england&lt;/span&gt;. Richard has Anne killed and then tries to woo Elizabeth's daughter to be his queen. She acts like she will, but in the end she had no intention of allowing her to be his queen. The play ends when Richard is killed in a battle at Salisbury by Richmond. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's a pretty compressed version of the play. So now, how does this relate to real life? Well, if any of you have been reading, you know that things have not been going very well in my life, and today I had a thought that led to this. What's been happening is very similar to Richard III. So lets get to it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother represents Richard III. She is sly, cunning, and has few boundaries when it comes to getting what she wants. She will lie, cheat, and attain what she desires, and if you are not with her, you are against her. Meaning that if you cross her the wrong way, she will attempt to make your life hell. Not only does she act like Richard, she is treated in a similar manner. Her mother does not like her very much, and she is not well liked by the main characters, and in the end, she destroys everyone she uses. She is a pretty close resemblance to Richard, except for the fact that she doesn't kill anyone. She's more of a mental destroyer more than anything else. In the end though, everything she did wrong will crubmle back upon her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My father represents Elizabeth. I know it's a chick but bear with me. Elizabeth had her children taken from her. The very thing she loved the most, was snatched from her for no reason whatsoever. The same is true for my father. My mom snatched us away from him, for no reason. She wont let him see us, or even talk to us. So in many ways he's lost us, as a matter of fact, if I didn't have a phone and a PC, he wouldn't know where we were. Another resemblance is how Richard comes to Elizabeth asking for her to help him. The same is true in this case, my mother repeatedly asks my dad for help. As in, money help. At first my dad could do little about her actions, now he's more proactive, something Elizabeth should have been.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brothers represent the kings sons Edward and York. They were both totally innocent, and we taken along for the ride. They didn't do anything, and they did not deserve what happened to them. The same is true for my brothers. They did nothing to deserve being ripped from their school and friends to being locked in their room when they are not in school. In essence they ARE locked in the tower, with little hope for escape. The personalities of my brothers are similar to brothers in the play as well. Edward is like my youngest (but taller) brother. He minded his words (fairly well) and was smart. He even matched Richard's flattering wordplay. York, however, is a trash talker, and taunted Richard several times calling him short and suggesting Richard carry him on his back like an ape. York matches my other (shorter) brother perfectly. In the end they are both done wrong by Richard, and the same is true here, my mom wronged my brothers. Yet another sin to add to her list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My grandmother represents Margaret. She does not like Richard at all. She was the woman who said the best two words in the entire play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;thou &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bunchbacked&lt;/span&gt; toad!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;The same is true in real life. My grandmother does not like my mom that much at all, and if crossed the wrong way WILL lash out against my mom. Often time cursing her to kingdom come. I've heard more curse words strung together out of my grandmothers mouth than I ever thought possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;mother &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;fu&lt;/span&gt;*****as*****son of a bi*** &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;fu&lt;/span&gt;***** ***** stupid a** bi***&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's happened...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, Margaret sees all of this coming, and warns them to beware of Richard. Then she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cureses&lt;/span&gt; everyone in the room and leaves. Although my grandmother didn't curse anyone, she did warn us about my mother and we did ignore her in some sense. Frankly we did not think my mom would do what she has done. But she did, and like in the story, we wish we would have listened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom's sister represents Buckingham. Buckingham got Richard to the throne, he was Richards right hand man, and was pretty much the driving force that got Richard to the throne. However, when Richard asked him to kill Edward and York, he made a fatal mistake. He hesitated, and with that, his fate was sealed. He tried to run, but was caught up with, taken back to Richard, and beheaded. My sister has been the same way. She has financed my mom, helped her, and bought into what she's been saying. She has helped my mom reach the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pinnacle&lt;/span&gt; of her reign, which is where she is now. However, what will happen during the downfall? My assumption is that she too will be forsaken by my mom, and left out to dry, just like my father. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for myself? I represent Richmond. Richmond was the guy who wanted to stop Richard. He gathered an army and invaded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;england&lt;/span&gt;. Although, his invasion was pretty uneventful simply because everyone WANTED him to win. He ends up meeting with Richard on the battlefield, where he kills him. Richmond represents me pretty well. I have discovered and stopped so many of my moms plans, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;. I have saved my brothers from her when she was in a rage, and I continue to watch over them to ensure their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;safety&lt;/span&gt;. Sacrificing my own well being, for theirs. Richmond ends up defeating Richard. For me however, it's too early to tell whether victory is certain. Only God knows what else is cooking in my mothers head...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, the ending. How will all of this end? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, just like in the play. I anticipate that everything mom has done in the past will crumble on top of her. Right now, we are being evicted from our apartment which she moved into without thinking about the future, she's trying to get another car, which if she succeeds will be reposesed because she can't pay the note, my dad will more than likely take my brothers because of the terrible things she's done, and she will give away the dog in order to move into another apartment, which she will more than likely end up being evicted from as well. Ultimately, she will end up like my grandmother, mental, broke, and alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OR&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She will seek counseling, and get help for the mental affliction she has. Afterwards things will normalize and be back to normal. I wonder what would have happened if Richard would have gotten seen by a Psychistrist...? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, I have seen that shakespearean literature has a lot of similarities with real life with Richard III being the closest to my current events. I wonder if this is true for many other pieces of literature? Only time will tell I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-5235718510342669921?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/5235718510342669921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/relationship-between-shakespearean.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5235718510342669921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5235718510342669921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/relationship-between-shakespearean.html' title='The relationship between shakespearean literature and real life'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-6831766279979481547</id><published>2009-05-11T20:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T20:43:40.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life isn't fair</title><content type='html'>I was watching the news, and some lady said "This isn't fair..." for a few moments, I wanted to scream at the screen and say "LIFE ISN'T FAIR!", but I didn't because at that moment something mind altering happened. I began to see just how unfair life is.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is the most unfair concept on the face of this earth. It's like THE GAME. You can never win, and you always lose. Lets look at it like this. No one, lives forever, and EVERYONE dies. Everyone. Of course, that's not the true unfairness of it. Think about it like this, when you die, you will most likely die wanting to live. Even people who commit suicide, probably think "I don't want to die" right before they fade out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;existance&lt;/span&gt;. Or maybe not. But really, we all die, at the time we don't want to die. Let me give you an example:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now you're reading this article and eating a snicker, wondering why this poor bastard has enough time to write all of this, and then you read something funny. It makes you laugh a little, and then a lot. With the snicker halfway in your mouth like a cigar, you start to laugh, and tilt your head back. The snicker slides into your throat, and is stuck there. You know what happens immediately, and try to cough it up, but you fail. You fall on the floor, and in your last moments of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;existance&lt;/span&gt;, you think over and over "I don't want to die yet"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THAT is how fair life is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, that's just concerning death. While you live your life, things are still not fair. You could own everything, and everyone, and be slapped in the face with the reality that says that "Not everything goes your way". You could be at the top of the world, rich parents, living on an estate, no worries, no cares. On the outside you think everything is just great, but on the inside. You're messed up. Sure you have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lambo&lt;/span&gt;, and a viper, and a hummer, but at what cost? You have these things, but physical parents. They work everyday, and when they get home, they are too tired to be bothered with you. You live pretty much alone in this mansion, except for the few maids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life can give you what you want. But it WILL keep what you want the most, and trust me, there will always be something you want more than anything else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After thinking about this for a while. I've learned that life is truly unfair. Life is just like The Game. It exists in everyone, it is everyone, and you are always living your life. Yet. You will always die. You will never win. You can never live forever, and in your last moments of life, you will be there, with your mind losing oxygen, thinking "I don't want to die yet"...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-6831766279979481547?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/6831766279979481547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-isnt-fair.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6831766279979481547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6831766279979481547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-isnt-fair.html' title='Life isn&apos;t fair'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-1161701071484462438</id><published>2009-05-11T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T19:25:35.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do most mean girls have to be fat and ugly?</title><content type='html'>I mean really! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'd think that an ugly fat girl with 50 chins and a Freddy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Krueger&lt;/span&gt; face would be more humble in the way she treats people. However...I guess it's not so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have this one girl in my Yearbook class. She about 5 or 6 inches taller than me, and maybe 200-250 lbs. This girl is NOT hot I will say that much. She's got love handles that will hit you if you are less than 2 feet away from her. Not only that, but her hair is messed up most of the time, and she uses &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WAAAAY&lt;/span&gt; to much eye liner. She is a cheerleader, but she's the one that holds the pyramid up, she's too heavy to get to the top lololzorz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The funny thing about this girl, is that she is probably the most brutal asshole you will meet. I'm dead serious. A couple of days ago she was ragging on one of my friends. Now, this girl who we'll call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;carmen&lt;/span&gt;, is an interesting figure. She's really perky, and uses "Oh my god" a lot. She's not annoying, she's just interesting. Well, this ugly girl decides that she wants to rag on her, she says that she is ugly and calls her a retard. I look at her, and she is just going on and on about how much she hates this girl. In my mind, I thought "You're probably mad because this girl has more friends than you".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another funny thing about this particular female, is that she HAS boyfriends. Which strikes me as funny because I wouldn't date this girl, as a matter of fact I wouldn't even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; with her. No fantasy on the planet can ever make her look hot. Sorry. Anyway, this girl HAS boyfriends, and in boyfriends I mean, guys come to her. My assumption is that she is that she parades around wagging her ass as she walks, a beacon for guys. Then, once they ask her out, she lays them and they are hers. That's my assumption at least. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fact of the matter, is that this ugly girl is a total bitch to many people. She's basically one of the girls off of "Mean Girls" (Yes, I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DID&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; see that movie) that talks crap about people, and people talk crap about her. She's an absolute pain to sit near, because all she talks about herself and her problems. I once heard her complain about how she HAS to have a boyfriend at all times, she can't go a week without one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, why is it that ugly girls are so mean? This girl is not the only one. At my old school, the biggest and fattest girls, the type of girls that you could write 15 pages of "You so fat" jokes on their chins, were the meanest. The easiest to get angry, and the first one to call names. Even though you can just call them fat and that would end it. THOSE girls were the pains in my ass, the thorns in my side, simply because they were just mean all the time. I hate people like that, I just don't see why people do that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone halp me  pl0x.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-1161701071484462438?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/1161701071484462438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-do-most-mean-girls-have-to-be-fat.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1161701071484462438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1161701071484462438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-do-most-mean-girls-have-to-be-fat.html' title='Why do most mean girls have to be fat and ugly?'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-8437220877997718775</id><published>2009-05-11T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T19:07:03.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye 360...</title><content type='html'>My mom threw away my Xbox 360. Saying that she was trying to clean the house. I know that she is lying. I know that she is trying to find a new apartment, and that she wants to do that so that no one can find us. She's also mad it me. Why? Because I will not give her my laptops. Because she has shown that she is not to be trusted with anything of mine over $20. I've determined this amount, because nothing of mine under $20 has been bothered. My books, magazines, and paperwork remains intact and unharmed. While My phones, PSP, Laptops, Speakers, and headphones have either been broken or taken away. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, today I guess she got her little revenge. She threw  out my 360, albeit was broken, but a box WAS shipped here, and it WAS going to get fixed, but my mom threw it away and claimed that she never got it. BS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now the tally is $500+ in money she owes me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-8437220877997718775?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/8437220877997718775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/bye-360.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/8437220877997718775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/8437220877997718775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/bye-360.html' title='Bye 360...'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-5423906167965334973</id><published>2009-05-06T17:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:15:10.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School computer fun. :)</title><content type='html'>I'll be adding some computer fun tricks every once and a while. Here's todays:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Internet Explorer: "MY HOME PAGE IS WHAT!?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very simple. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Make a batch file and save it deep in System32&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Code:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;cd C:\Program Files\Internet Explorer\&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;iexplore www.XXXXXXXXX.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Note: www.XXXXXXXXX.com is the website you want it to show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, right click on the Internet Explorer shortcut, and press properties. Go to where it says "target" and in between the quotes, put in the path you saved it in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you saved it as lol.bat in C:\Windows\system32:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'd put:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"C:\Windows\System32\lol.bat"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, go to "Change Icon" and navigate to C:\Program Files\Internet Explorer and click "iexplore.exe", that sets the icon. Now, watch and wait until someone opens your little surprise. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-5423906167965334973?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/5423906167965334973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/school-computer-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5423906167965334973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5423906167965334973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/school-computer-fun.html' title='School computer fun. :)'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7895766217743844941</id><published>2009-05-06T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T17:57:57.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom called the cops on me this morning</title><content type='html'>Now THIS is an LOL story to remember.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was laying down in my bed, I was listening. I wasn't asleep, I heard that my mom's sister was in the house, and I was gathering information. A few minutes later they walked out the door and I got up, apparently my aunt had made good on her promise. She brought my mom clippers for our hair. At the sight of them, my stomach dropped. I knew what would happen next.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom called my youngest brother and said "Come on and get your haircut". He didn't want her to cut his hair. I didn't blame him. We saw what she did to our dog's hair. He didn't want his hair cut. My mom called him a second and third time. Then she yelled "SIT DOWN IN THIS CHAIR AND GET YOUR HAIR CUT!" and like a small puppy he came to her. That's the thing about him, he won't put his foot down. So at this point I see that she is forcing him to do what she says, a no no in my book. I got up, wrapped in my blanket and told her that he does not want her to cut his hair. She was insisting, he told her no another time. So this time I was like, "Ok, I see your game" so I unplugged the clippers and told her that if she REALLY wanted his hair cut, then I would do it, since I know more about cutting hair than she does. I also to the brother to get up and get his school stuff, unless he WANTS his hair cut. She yelled at him and I told him again, and said, "Unless you want HER to cut your hair, GET UP and get your things" he stayed, like a little puppy. So then, she pushed me, and I tripped over some stuff. I almost fell, when that happened I saw that she was trying to reach for her vacuum cleaner. One of those little ones you see on TV. Not a full size. Anyway, I see her reach for it, so I grab it and chuck it. Well, it hits the wall and breaks. Now she's mad. So she pulls out the phone and calls the cops. I was like "really?" all they are going to do is tell you to grow up and be the parent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I wait and they finally come. Two of them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So she starts telling them how the day has been for her. Essentially just blabbing. They interrupt her and ask her "What's the problem" they are obviously annoyed at this minor ruckus.  So she goes on and on saying how I'm in a rage and how I'm so bad and mean and on and on. So they break us away, and I tell the officer what happened. I told him that we have suggested that she get mental help. I also told him that she has a police report ON her filed at their office, about an event that happened a few weeks prior. So it was really no contest. She said that I was always starting things and that I AM violent. However, when you see that she was the one having a fit, and I'm calm. Well it was apparent that she was lying about things as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the cops are about to leave, and my mom starts to get on my youngest brother (who got his hair cut) has on clothes, and she starts having a fit, saying that his clothes are unclean and dirty. They WERE clean, he just needed so D.O. that's it. Well she went all into a fit, and the cops saw it all. She got on him, sending him to change clothes 4 times. It was crazy. The cop told me to call my dad and get us out the house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I walked away from this, with yet 2 more people saying that mom needs psychological help. Who will it be next?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7895766217743844941?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7895766217743844941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/mom-called-cops-on-me-this-morning.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7895766217743844941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7895766217743844941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/mom-called-cops-on-me-this-morning.html' title='Mom called the cops on me this morning'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-4737089171438907264</id><published>2009-05-03T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T17:32:48.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ACK! So much today...oh so much...</title><content type='html'>God, computers are just the center of my life lol&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning I woke up, and rolled over. As soon as I did my mom popped out from her room saying that she wanted me to fix her internet. So I was like, whatever. I looked at it and attempted to connect. It tried to connect, it even saw the wireless point, but it wouldn't connect. My mom said that she had stopped some service in task manager. (really?) So I restarted it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meanwhile, I was trying to doctor my mini laptop. It was running at 60% CPU, and in Taskmanager there weren't any apps using anything close to that. As a matter of fact, everything was at 0%. That told me one thing. Virus. I ran a spybot S&amp;amp;D on it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While spybot was running...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went back to moms PC. Tried to connect, same thing. So I headed over to the TCP/IP settings to see if that was an issue. When I went there, I saw that EVERYTHING was uninstalled. I was like, "You gotta be fu#$ing kidding me." So I tried to re-install everything. Nope. No go bitch. That's what windows told me. So I was like. Ok, looks like I'll have to re-install the drivers. However, with my mini laptop in total unusable mode. I had to use another PC. Queue my big lappie. The one my mom had taken away. Oh joy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While the big lappie was booting up...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spybot returned zero threats. Meh. I know it's a virus, so I put it in safe mode. It runs perfectly, speedily. So now I KNOW it's a virus. Either that or it's a program on the fritz. So I start up Avast AV. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While Avast is running...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get on my big PC. Download the drivers and transfer them to my SD card. I put the card into the slot and unzip the drivers. But oh noes! Not enough space. COME ON MAN! I look to find that there are several videos, which gets me wondering "where is my camera?". I unzip the first set of drivers. Uninstall the original, and start the process. Everything is simple. It installs the drivers fine. So I try to connect to the network, only to find out that the wireless is not identifying any unsecured networks. REALLY!? So I restart wondering if that's the issue. Nope, so I uninstall the new drivers and replace them with some other drivers I found. OMG! THEY WORK! FINALLY!!! Mom's computer is fixed and I get my lappie back. Score.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little laptop is still scanning...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I get to work on my encryption program. I identify an error in the encryption algorithm. Simply put, the program is not cycling like I want it to. When I look into it, it seems that the program is not decreasing like I want it to. It's just staying at zero. So I look at the if statement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;if(j=charlen){j=0;}&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hmmm....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;looks like this is one of those needs an '==' problems...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fixed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;if(j==charlen){j=0;}&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YAY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next I add a clipboard function for the QuickMessage app. Simply enter your message, and it automatically goes to the clipboard. No more copying from cmd. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I then go on pandora, I need programming music. On my big pc, I find out that my mom changed the e-mail and password of it. However I can still log on. :D So I check it out, and reset the e-mail. I then go into C:\...\appdata\roaming\macromedia and grab the pandora.com flash cookie. Inside...I find a username and a hashed password. :D:D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Hashed: f81e60adcd0b3e27&lt;/blockquote&gt;So I look for it on google. Nothin. So I try to decrypt it using an MD5 Decrypt. Now I know that MD5's need more characters than that. But scew that, I try anyway. :D Nothing. D: &gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO, I try to isolate the type of hash. SHA1...nope, MD2? MD3? MD4? SHA0? I finally hit on one that's possible: MYSQL hash. Kewl. I plug it into my brute forcer. 5 Minutes at 200K Passwords a second. Nothin...damn. That whole adventure took 2 hours. For nothin. Still have it crackin, maybe I'll get somethin...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So then I move onto WindowsAPI programming. Oh, easy I thought it was. Yeah, Microsoft said "HAHAHA LOLPWNTBITCH" that crap was hard. I still haven't made my OWN windows program. Screw that...for now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now it's 7:30 at night. I started at what? 11 this morning? lol, fun day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shout out to Zahir! And this is from andrew:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.digitaldevildb.com/images/gameart/persona3/yukari_72dpi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.digitaldevildb.com/images/gameart/persona3/yukari_72dpi.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="cursor: pointer; width: 459px; height: 1018px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-4737089171438907264?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/4737089171438907264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/ack-so-much-todayoh-so-much.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4737089171438907264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4737089171438907264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/ack-so-much-todayoh-so-much.html' title='ACK! So much today...oh so much...'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-4729128137938592660</id><published>2009-05-02T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T16:18:17.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Encryption Program</title><content type='html'>Hey guys, just wrote an encryption program:&lt;br /&gt;http://community.naturalmotion.com/forum/showthread.php?t=32457&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-4729128137938592660?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/4729128137938592660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/encryption-program.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4729128137938592660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/4729128137938592660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/encryption-program.html' title='Encryption Program'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-1562024405005838557</id><published>2009-05-01T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T16:42:05.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People are STUPID</title><content type='html'>Sorry about not posting yesterday, I just didn't have anything to talk about. Apparently it took a day for this to fester into a full blown rant. So here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, me and a few other office aids; Folded, Stuffed, and Adressed 1500 letters to parents regarding WHAT? THE EFFING SWINE FLU! Now of course, since this is a school letter. It's got to have some information that anyone but a FREAKING MORON would know. Right? RIGHT!?!!? NO! It had the SAME old STUPID COMMON SENSE CRAP that you would see if you READ A FREAKING WEBSITE! People have blown this thing WAY out of proportion. The H1N1 Strain of flu is just like the regular flu, just a little deadlier. The WHO is calling this thing a epidemic in progress. However, I ask myself. REALLY!? It's been what? A week? And they are already calling it epidemic potential? Ok ok, so the thing spread all over MEXICO. One of the poorest, and unlean countries ON THE PLANET. Their health care is total SHIT. People over in mexico die from effing colds. Yet, 30 people die in mexico, and oooohhh my god. This thing might be bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN WE HAVE THE MEDIA. Oh my god the media. Who just hyped and hyped this story. Telling people WRONG information, and leaving out KEY pieces of information. They panicked the american people, telling them that this one is going to be the one that kills us all. No thanks to twitter either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, ALL of this hysterity could be prevented if people weren't so easily led. If they would have spen 5 maybe 10 minutes looking at swine flu like I DID. They would have realized, "Hey, this isn't so bad, we just need to be more careful" and that would have been the end of it. Did they? No, they went on twitter and spread shit that was not even real. Now everyone is all afraid. Wearing masks that DON'T DO ANYTHING. It's so funny. I am going to shit myself laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, are people really stupid? YES THEY ARE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-1562024405005838557?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/1562024405005838557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/people-are-stupid.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1562024405005838557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1562024405005838557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/05/people-are-stupid.html' title='People are STUPID'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-5350874979983209197</id><published>2009-04-29T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:28:21.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My new tactic in the saga with my mom</title><content type='html'>I have come to the conclusion. That playing hard ball with my mom is not going to be effective at all. At best, it hurts her feelings, but in the end it is not productive in the least. This evening, I had a discussion with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom wanted me not to use the word "you" while talking with her, so I spoke as if I was talking to a friend. In the discussion I have laid out why I have been so harsh to her. To put it simply:&lt;blockquote&gt; I am frustrated&lt;/blockquote&gt;I then said that I will in the future ask my mom to seek a professional for guidance, and that if she does I believe that things will be much better for her. I also gave examples as to why it's good to talk to someone about your problems, and I also advised why it would be best for her to talk to a professional rather than her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also explained why I have been so difficult on her. Essentially saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I am very upset&lt;/blockquote&gt;I also made it clear that I have not done anything harmful to her or anyone, and I do not intend to. All of my actions to date have been in response to an attack by her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, this talk like I'm talking to a friend. Has influenced her, if not. I will ask her to seek help tomorrow morning before school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If after all of that, she still will not seek help. Than I fear that all is lost for her, and that the only way for her to get help would be by forcing her hand. Of course the way that is planned to happen is ▲class top secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I plan to take a crap in the next few minutes. I know that at the end of this, crap, many dogs will look to the sky and howl, for their noses will be filled with the essence of the-nixter. lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-5350874979983209197?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/5350874979983209197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-new-tactic-in-saga-with-my-mom.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5350874979983209197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5350874979983209197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-new-tactic-in-saga-with-my-mom.html' title='My new tactic in the saga with my mom'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-455489369587590563</id><published>2009-04-29T14:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T15:05:52.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to cut in lines without getting caught</title><content type='html'>We have all tried it, the line is long. REALLY LONG. Like, longcat long. WE hate waiting in lines, and so we think: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What if I cut?"&lt;/span&gt; It seems easy enough, all you have to do is walk to the front right? So you try it, and before you pass the first person some butthole yells "NO CUTTING!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, how to you cut effectively without getting caught?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some prerequisites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) Timing:&lt;br /&gt;Timing must be right, it should be such that your victims are absorbed in conversation or zombified. When people are in that state, most people wont notice you sneaking by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b) Location:&lt;br /&gt;There is a time and place to try cutting in lines. The slop line in prison is certainly not the place. If you go to a ghetto school where people fight over lunch, don't try to cut. It's not worth it. Also, lines with boundaries in which cutting means you'd have to squeeze by someone or lines in which people who would want to bust you for cutting can see you are to be avoided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c) People:&lt;br /&gt;People are as much of the equation as anything else. As a matter of fact, they are the most of the equation. Ghetto black kids are not as easy to cut in front of as middle classed white kids. It's a fact, and I have experience in both worlds. Trust me, it is not easy to cut in front of ghetto black kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now to the technique. It is very simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Look for a spot to enter the line. Avoid the back of the line at all costs, if there are a bunch of people bunched up at a certain spot close to the front, cut behind them. Act like you know them, most people wont say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Flank them on the outside,  move about a foot away from their hand, in the direction in which they aren't looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Move forward, slowly.&lt;br /&gt;Move about a foot every 15-20 seconds. I know it sounds insane, but trust me. People will notice someone walking past them at 1 foot a second, but may not notice someone moving past them at 1 foot every 15 seconds. While you're doing it, look the other way. You don't want to make eye contact with people while you're doing it. Also, people may not make a big deal if they don't make eye contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When you get a short distance from the front of the line, stop.&lt;br /&gt;People expect cutters to cut to the front. It's much easier to be ignored 5-10 feet from the front of the line. Than cutting straight to the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tips.&lt;br /&gt;If you get caught, try to stay where you are rather than move to the back of the line. Any ground gained is ground you didn't have before. Don't give it up without a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the easiest way to cut. Is to go to the gym for 4 hours every day, and get ripped in 3-6 weeks. I guarantee you, no mo-fo will bother you then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-455489369587590563?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/455489369587590563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-to-cut-in-lines-without-getting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/455489369587590563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/455489369587590563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-to-cut-in-lines-without-getting.html' title='How to cut in lines without getting caught'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-364068019032770861</id><published>2009-04-28T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:57:03.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My rank of girls by type</title><content type='html'>1. Intelligent Girls&lt;br /&gt; These girls are the best girls on the planet. Smart, witty, and usually funny. These types of girls are joys to be around. I love smart girls. Unfortunately these girls aren't always super hot, but normally the ones I hang around and date are girls I'd be seen with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Normal  Girls&lt;br /&gt;These girls are just normal, not too flashy, smart, but not THAT smart. They are pretty much the baseline, the type of girl I like to date. They are also a little flashy, and aren't afraid to show a little of themselves. They are usually awesome to be around, and have decent attitudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Flashy Girls&lt;br /&gt;These walking teases are pretty much broke gold diggers. They NEED a man to take care of them. Which is why they are constantly trying to catch the eye of the richest looking guy. I always avoid these girls, they are really only good for one thing, and go hand in hand with the next girls on my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Slutty Girls&lt;br /&gt;These walking STD's are usually the flashiest girls out of this group. They wear tight pants, and show the most cleavage. I avoid these girls most of all, not to say that I wouldn't tap that, but simply because I am afraid of crabs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Ghetto Girls&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, these bitches are absolute pains in the ass. If you want to find a woman who you'll feel like killing 15 times a day. These girls are sassy, with attitudes worse than the meanest chihuahua. These girls HAVE to be pampered, and will be damned if you don't pamper them. These girls will STEAL your credit card to get what they want. They are also not afraid to spread their legs to get what they want. I avoid these girls at all costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Superficial Girls&lt;br /&gt;The only thing worse than Ghetto Girls is Superficial Girls these girls possess every bit of ghettoness except these girls think, no they KNOW they are better than everyone else. These girls are back stabbers, and will cheat on you in an instant. These bitches are like leaches, they use you for a little while. Then they throw you away like a used condom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Anime Girls&lt;br /&gt;These short, comic book reading, brace faced, flat chested abominations are probably the most repulsing things I have ever seen. I have yet to see a hot anime girl in my state, and I doubt that I ever will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Retards&lt;br /&gt;The ONLY thing that is worse than ANY other girl on this list. Are the stupid girls. You know, those rich girls who live off their daddys money, going to parties and think they are the best thing the world ever got. Those bitches on "My super sweet 16" are prime examples of them. Most of them are shit talkers, yet they cannot tell you who the last president was, or more often, how many states are in the US. I dare you, find one of these idiots and ask them how many states are in the US. If they blow you off, tell them "hahaha, you don't know do you? Stupid bitch!" Works EVERY time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for this article. Onto something more fun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;After speaking with my dear friend and lover (not really) Nolan AKA Tenderbender AKA Tendercrisp AKA Hot-n-spicey (lol) I have learned that there is such a creature as a hot "anime girl" of course, I was speaking from experience in MY area. So yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the anime girl discription excludes asians. Who are hot PERIOD. (except for the fat ones)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-364068019032770861?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/364068019032770861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-rank-of-girls-by-type.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/364068019032770861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/364068019032770861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-rank-of-girls-by-type.html' title='My rank of girls by type'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-5288987423555328640</id><published>2009-04-27T19:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T19:49:55.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Baww threads</title><content type='html'>I love baww threads. They really put a positive spin on my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because they show me, that no matter how bad I think my life is. There is someone out there, who has it 100X worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-5288987423555328640?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/5288987423555328640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-love-baww-threads.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5288987423555328640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5288987423555328640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-love-baww-threads.html' title='I love Baww threads'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7522412677365222527</id><published>2009-04-27T18:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T18:33:11.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How people make bots</title><content type='html'>At the Naturalmotion forums we have been plagued by many bot attacks so to speak against our forum. Most of them simply log in, post a simple message, and leave. These are not targeted attacks, at least that is the way it seems. Those are more random. Of course, I also have reason to believe that if someone is targeting NM, than those bots that have been banned may have been tests. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have decided to do a little research into the creation of these bots. Here's what a bot SHOULD do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Create an account on a website&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be able to navigate&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be able to post it's content&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;The question that comes to mind is how this would be achieved. One such website said that you'd have to find a certain sequence of TCP/IP packets and figure out the correct sequence to get you logged in. However the user who posted that was posting in regards to a game, not a website. So I don't think that the analysis of TCP/IP packets would be neccecary right? I would think that it would be easier to have the bot analyze the html or php code to do what it needs to do.  A php irc bot I found meerly connects to the server, joins it, and listens for a certain string. It is very simple and consists of less than 50 lines of code. So that's all it takes to make a bot then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, once the person figures out how to log their bot into the server, and post messages, than everything else should be fairly easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question is exactly what people use to make their bots. There are many programming languages to choose from. However I'd be willing to bet that the top ones are:&lt;br /&gt;PHP&lt;br /&gt;PERL&lt;br /&gt;VISUAL BASIC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd also be willing to throw Java in there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, my assumption is that the code would look something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(main part of code)&lt;br /&gt;while(1){  &lt;--Goes forever until you say stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;searchvulnserver(); &lt;---Look for the server, or it may already be built in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;createaccnt(); &lt;--Create an account&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;login();  &lt;-- Login function&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;searchthreads();  &lt;--Search for the thread or threads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;post(); &lt;--Payload post &lt;-- Post the payload&lt;br /&gt;}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after that there would be the individual coding of each, but you get where I'm going with this right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was researching, I found an article in which a person explains how to use a web service called runabot.com in which a person can configure and run their own bot. It seems very easy to use and I wonder just how well this bot performs. From the looks of it however, it seems that using services like that make bot creation as easy as setting up an e-mail account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what would be the use of bots for a person? Well for one, bots are an excellent source of reveue. One person who writes a bot that plasters that persons website on 500 forums could make quite a bit of cash, all the while saving HIM the time of doing it all by hand. Another reason is that some people like to annoy other people. Classic example? Trolls. Nuff said. Of course, there are also the nefarious reasons as well, a good enough bot can spam a forum to hell, and hold the forum hostage for a price. If the person doesn't pay, the bot continues it's spamming. A bot could also be used to spread malware. The possibilities are pretty much endless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully this has been of some use. Spread it around. TELL YOUR FRIENDS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Articles:&lt;br /&gt; http://freakycowbot.com/makebot.php&lt;br /&gt;http://forum.valhallalegends.com/index.php?PHPSESSID=a8ab1176a5af597fc4c8ca24d643ad96&amp;amp;topic=9278.0&lt;br /&gt;http://php.codenewbie.com/articles/php/1566/How_To_Make_a_Simple_IRC_Bot_From_Scratch_In_PHP-Page_1.html&lt;br /&gt;http://www.daniweb.com/forums/thread9761.html#&lt;br /&gt;http://www.munki.net/javabot/docs/create_a_bot_howto.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7522412677365222527?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7522412677365222527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-people-make-bots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7522412677365222527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7522412677365222527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-people-make-bots.html' title='How people make bots'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-5597453038937245176</id><published>2009-04-27T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T14:22:57.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naturalmotion is down! OH NOES!</title><content type='html'>NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Naturalmotion is down!!!!! What am I suppposed to do while it's down? What NOOBZ will I pwn? What section of off topic will I troll!? OH WOE IS MEEE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute...what if...WHAT IF THEY GOT SWINE FLU!!!??? OMG OMG OMG!!! OH TEH WORLDEH IS OVAH!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturalmotion is down, I wonder what's going on. I bet Terry must be doing something to the servers. Oh well, I guess I'll troll 4chan until NM is back up. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-5597453038937245176?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/5597453038937245176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/naturalmotion-is-down-oh-noes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5597453038937245176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/5597453038937245176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/naturalmotion-is-down-oh-noes.html' title='Naturalmotion is down! OH NOES!'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-6390145200798163468</id><published>2009-04-26T16:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T17:23:56.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My mom cries...</title><content type='html'>Yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My younger brothers were playing some game on the PS2. They had been playing for 45 minutes and the time limit my mom set up for us to play was 30 minutes. So, I said "Ok guys, when you finish I want to get back on", my smallest brother then started yelling saying: "NO! IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN THIRTY MINUTES!!!" ok... They started at 4:15 annnd the time was now 5:05 so how long was that? 50 minutes amirite? So of course he was wrong, he got mad and started yelling at me, queue mom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She comes into the room and tells him to chill. He doesn't of course, and he continues yelling. All of his yelling is actually funny, and then I start laughing. Here he is, yelling at me about something he is totally wrong about. Hilarious. So he gets even more upset, and tackles me. It takes me a quick second to get into what's going on, but immediately I flip him on his back and pin him. I have one of my knees over his thigh, one under his back, and my hand firmly on his chin. He can't move now. After sitting there for about 5 seconds watching him struggle, I flip him over and kick him away. He tries to come back for more, but mom finally pulls him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then she's like: Take the TV and PS2 out of this room, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you're&lt;/span&gt; starting stuff and they are just going to put it back. So now I'm agitated, this child has once again gotten what he wanted, by yelling his ass off and fighting me and losing. So I call her on it. "Why are you rewarding him for being an asshole?" I tell her. She then goes on to tell me that I'm wrong for all of it, and how I'm always starting things between everyone. Again. She then goes into my brothers room and asks them to move the TV. They don't want to, because they like playing the PS2 with me. She then closes the door, and starts to talk to them, saying the same things that she usually does. "Me and dad are separating, but you will still have us" Like that is what &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WE&lt;/span&gt; are worried about. That's when my littlest brother, who really started all of this made a BIG mistake. He used my words. He told my mom things I have told her in other arguments, and when he did that. She left, then she started crying. For a second, I was like. Really? I heard her try to move the TV, but then she came back in there and started after me. Essentially, she was like this "I do and do and do for you and this is the thanks I get?" Basically citing how she took care of me when I was little, and how my dad wasn't around when I was little, and how she took care of me, and how I was the planned pregnancy and how they WANTED to have me. Basically dropping guilt bombs. In my mind, I thought of something my teacher said:&lt;br /&gt;"You can be the best person in the world. You can be the pastor of a church, do community work, and be a great role model. You can do all these great things. But...when you go out and kill someone, or rape some child. Everything you did before, doesn't matter anymore. Because people will remember you not for all those years of service, but for those 10-15 minutes it took for you to destroy all that" and that was in essence exactly what has happened. Here we had a great relationship. Mom was great, doing things for us and helping us, and when she WAS hurt she talked about it. Then, she decides that her hurt is too much. So she changes &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EVERYTHING&lt;/span&gt;, and in turn, hurts &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EVERYONE&lt;/span&gt;. While all of this is going on, she wont TELL anyone why she is doing all of that. She's just doing it. Which lets our imaginations run wild. All of that combined, makes everything get ugly. Here she has hurt everyone in the family, split us apart, wont let us see our own father, and she wont tell us why. Yet, she expects us to be nice and easy on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she finishes, and basically tells me I'm unfair to her for not being easy on her. Yet, in all of our arguments in which I end up exchanging words with her, she started them. All I did was prove her wrong each time she tried to make it seem like I was the wrong party. So how was I being unfair in defending myself? I said that, but it didn't make an impact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why she broke down and cried. I don't know. My assumption, was that either my dad told her he was leaving, because he can't handle all of her stuff anymore. OR, it was because of my youngest brother using my words, which made it seem like I had turned them against her, coupled with me telling her that she is wrong for many things, which made her feel cornered. Personally I don't know. However, I did see that she is nearing her end. She can't keep this up, and she knows it. Maybe when she gets to rock bottom, she'll realize the error in what she's done. Lets just hope she hits bottom before it's too late to reverse what she has done already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-6390145200798163468?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/6390145200798163468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-mom-cries.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6390145200798163468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6390145200798163468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-mom-cries.html' title='My mom cries...'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-2592575457403854846</id><published>2009-04-26T14:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T14:19:13.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words CAN hurt you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.explosm.net/db/files/Comics/Rob/sticksandstones.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 498px; height: 140px;" src="http://www.explosm.net/db/files/Comics/Rob/sticksandstones.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lulz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-2592575457403854846?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/2592575457403854846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/words-can-hurt-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2592575457403854846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2592575457403854846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/words-can-hurt-you.html' title='Words CAN hurt you'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-3059255089505265280</id><published>2009-04-26T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T10:18:01.611-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swine'/><title type='text'>Swine Flu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfSVR4QHGSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/bI2c6Nwku6E/s1600-h/1240764624697.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfSVR4QHGSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/bI2c6Nwku6E/s320/1240764624697.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329048393476413730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what of this swine flu? I've been reading several news sites, and it looks like everyone is freaking out about this flu epidemic. Now why am I calling this an epidemic? Because it's moving like one. The reason why this bug is so capable of spreading around the world quickly is because of air travel. Think about this, a plane can get from north America to Europe in what? 8 Hours? Now lets say some retard went to a Mexican Whorehouse and has contracted swine flu, because the girl he was messing with also likes to mess with pigs. =/ While on the plane, he doesn't exhibit any symptoms because he hasn't been infected for a long enough time. So when he gets to europe, and is screened. He looks to be ok. Since he went to a Mexican Whorehouse we know that the guy has to be some kind of businessman. SO he spends the rest of his day talking to other businessmen who spend their days talking to other businessmen. Basically, you get this pyramid effect. One person infects 2 people, who also infect 2 people, who go on to infect to other people. Eventually you get a shit load of people infected, and that's from ONE person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you scared yet? NO? WELL YOU SHOULD BE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This virus is also pretty interesting. It seems to effect healthy individuals over 20. Which means that I am just under the radar. Praise Jesus. However, I'm still watching this thing very carefully, because it could get ugly reaaaaalllll quick. Especially if it decides to mutate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-3059255089505265280?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/3059255089505265280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/swine-flu.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/3059255089505265280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/3059255089505265280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/swine-flu.html' title='Swine Flu'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfSVR4QHGSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/bI2c6Nwku6E/s72-c/1240764624697.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-71206493766804884</id><published>2009-04-26T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T09:47:08.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh lawdy, WOW runs on the iphone!</title><content type='html'>I never thought things would get this bad. NOW, World of Warcraft is now on the iphone. Do you know what this means? This means that there will be a substantial increase of fat virgins in the next 6 months. WHY APPLE!!!??? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"We found a video showing an iPhone running &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" class="autolink" title="Click here to read more posts tagged WORLD OF WARCRAFT" href="http://gizmodo.com/tag/world-of-warcraft/"&gt;World of Warcraft&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. It looks surprisingly full-featured, but this isn't a standalone app— more of an evolution of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://gizmodo.com/gadgets/clips/world-of-warcraft-on-the-iphone-kinda-276399.php"&gt;what we've seen before&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We don't think it's fake; if it is, it's an unbelievably elaborate one and we'd prefer to think nobody is willing to put in that kind of time and effort for such a dumb prank. It's done using Vollee, which is used to stream games over 3G, so the video is actually just a stream and the rendering is done on the PC. But it's much smoother than we'd expect over 3G, and comes with enough features that true WoW addicts will be able to get their fix on the run, buying and selling elves or whatever happens in that game.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;According to the comments left by the video's uploader, the game is completed but waiting for the rights issues to be ironed out between Blizzard and &lt;a class="tagautolink autolink" title="Click here to read more posts tagged APPLE" href="http://gizmodo.com/tag/apple/"&gt;Apple&lt;/a&gt; (and, presumably, Vollee), so we have no idea when or for how much this might show up on iPhones near you. [&lt;a href="http://toucharcade.com/2009/04/25/world-of-warcraft-on-an-iphone-for-real/"&gt;Touch Arcade&lt;/a&gt;]"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;http://gizmodo.com/5227897/world-of-warcraft-runs-on-iphone-mostly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-71206493766804884?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/71206493766804884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-lawdy-wow-runs-on-iphone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/71206493766804884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/71206493766804884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-lawdy-wow-runs-on-iphone.html' title='Oh lawdy, WOW runs on the iphone!'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-1749649671343808274</id><published>2009-04-25T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T20:45:02.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My mind is crazy mayn</title><content type='html'>You know, I should really stop watching movies like hostel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all know that my mom hates me right? Well in hostel people get sold to the slaughter pretty much. SHIIIIIIIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what my brain ponders up:&lt;br /&gt;1: Mom is desperate for money, she's screwed with little cash&lt;br /&gt;2: Mom hates me.&lt;br /&gt;3: Mom finds shady bastards who buy people&lt;br /&gt;4: They come in the middle of the night and take me&lt;br /&gt;5: SHHIIIIIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logically, it really can't work. Mainly because, how would she explain a suddenly missing son? She can't say that I ran away, because my younger brothers know better than that. So how would it work? I'm sure there's a way, but man, I REALLY don't want to find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-1749649671343808274?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/1749649671343808274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-mind-is-crazy-mayn.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1749649671343808274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1749649671343808274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-mind-is-crazy-mayn.html' title='My mind is crazy mayn'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-1121115883033009180</id><published>2009-04-25T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T11:37:56.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midgets are funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNYT2TORdI/AAAAAAAAAAw/V_DSViB2vX8/s1600-h/1240682919956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNYT2TORdI/AAAAAAAAAAw/V_DSViB2vX8/s320/1240682919956.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328699882126329298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-1121115883033009180?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/1121115883033009180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/midgets-are-funny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1121115883033009180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/1121115883033009180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/midgets-are-funny.html' title='Midgets are funny'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNYT2TORdI/AAAAAAAAAAw/V_DSViB2vX8/s72-c/1240682919956.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-7521907504052424836</id><published>2009-04-25T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T11:14:59.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to sneak into a room, search it, and get away unscathed</title><content type='html'>Lets say your brother stole something from you, and has it hidden somewhere in his room. The problem is, it's locked, and if he finds out you did it, you're going to be in deep shit. So how would you do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Learn your enemy's pattern.&lt;br /&gt;-You need to know when that person is going to leave the room, and for how long they should be gone. It's key that they be gone for a long time so you can do a thorough seach&lt;br /&gt;2. Crack their lock.&lt;br /&gt;-Before you go in for the actual search, try and pick their lock. Most rooms with locks can be opened with a butter knife. Of course, if you have one of those paranoid people who put real locks on their room door, cracking it will be even harder.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Enter the room&lt;br /&gt;-Do it faggot!&lt;br /&gt;4. Search the room&lt;br /&gt;-Look under, over, and inside everything. However, make for certain that you put everything in it's proper place. THAT IS ESSENTIAL to the person not finding out you were there.&lt;br /&gt;5. Exit the room&lt;br /&gt;-Make sure everything is where it was before, and get your ass out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;????????????&lt;br /&gt;Profit. You have now successfully infiltrated and searched someones room. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-7521907504052424836?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/7521907504052424836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-to-sneak-into-room-search-it-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7521907504052424836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/7521907504052424836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-to-sneak-into-room-search-it-and.html' title='How to sneak into a room, search it, and get away unscathed'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-6159099542227206008</id><published>2009-04-25T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T10:56:53.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny pic of the day:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.explosm.net/db/files/Comics/Rob/timetraveler4.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 353px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.explosm.net/db/files/Comics/Rob/timetraveler4.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lul'd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-6159099542227206008?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/6159099542227206008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/funny-pic-of-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6159099542227206008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/6159099542227206008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/funny-pic-of-day.html' title='Funny pic of the day:'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8147540496552896379.post-2853701706056180397</id><published>2009-04-25T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T09:52:45.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My youtubez! OH MAH YOUTUBEZ!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday night I was having a standoff with my mom. She took my phone, and I wanted it back. Not because it was MY phone, and that she was going to destroy it. No, that was the least of my worries. It was because she was going to browse my phone, and get information off of it. You know, espionage. So, I was watching "On a boat" on youtube, and then I remembered Ironman2pt0 saying "When are you going to make another webcast?" so I said, hey, I should rage over my schools inadequate network. That'd be a good laugh! I got some props, and put on my crazy face, and was ready to roll. When I got to youtube, I noticed that all of my videos were missing? Huh? I was like...what the hell is going on? So I decided to check one of my links, I decided to check my ECCP links and see what was what. It said, that the video had been "removed by user" and immediately I knew what happened. I looked up from my computer, pretty much raging, and said "mom, you're an asshole" I didn't care at the time. It became obvious to me, that she wasn't just trying to mess with my things. She was trying to destroy anything I had created. You see, my youtube, and my photobucket were the locations of all of my portfolio material, and those were the only places she attacked, which told me that she was only after my portfolio work. I can only assume now, that she has deleted my portfolio off of my laptop as well. Although, I hope I can recover that off off my HDD. In any case, she's got a mounting case against her. If she does decide to divorce my dad, it's not going to be a contest who gets the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in: My mom deleted my pandora account too. Oh, this is just getting too fun. Oh well, I know her game now. It's time to come with my own, I've already got a nice little arsenal that I'll use when the time is right. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8147540496552896379-2853701706056180397?l=the-nixter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/feeds/2853701706056180397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-youtubez-oh-mah-youtubez.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2853701706056180397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8147540496552896379/posts/default/2853701706056180397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-nixter.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-youtubez-oh-mah-youtubez.html' title='My youtubez! OH MAH YOUTUBEZ!'/><author><name>Barry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02402794757053259386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3Lg_bcSbdI/SfNIytk1p4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/eETJ8_J3Zaw/S220/Me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
