Rant 8: My Pet Armadillo Is My Drummer

I know it, you know it, we all know it. We all think about how much better life would be if we all had pet Armadillos. Never fear, I will be the first to tell you it is actually not as good as we all imagined. On a cloudy Wednesday afternoon 4 months ago, I bought my Armadillo. I knew for sure at the time that this was the final piece of the puzzle that would make me a rockstar. I bought him for $300 in Austrailian money, and put him in the passenger seat of my car. Due to my extensive research, I knew Armadillos like heavy metal music, so I played some as loud as I could, in a gesture of friendship. This didn't work so well because for the next 3 days, he wouldn't listen to me. Some friend he is. I decided to name him Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune. I figured that name would mean he would instantly become a powerhouse of a friend, protecting me from all the evils of the world. Instead, he slept a lot. Shows how much he appreciated a great name. After a month, I decided it was time. I strapped him to a drum set and wheeled him on stage. He totally stood me up! He just sat there, not playing the drums! How could I be a famous rockstar if my drummer isn't doing anything?!? Well, I chalked it up to nerves, and took him out for ice cream. Wouldn't you know it, the ungrateful Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune made a huge mess all over the floor of my house not two hours later. I forgave him one more time, thinking it was just butterflies in his stomach or something. I then told him to make the album art for our beastly CD that we were going to make together. I locked him in a room with a pad and pen and let him be for 3 days. I know writers and artists need their space, so I didn't bother him. After that time past, I went into the room. Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune, chewed up my desk, shredded my curtains, made multiple messes on the floor, and didn't even bother making album art for me. I returned him the next day. Worst. $300 Australian. Ever.

Rant 7: The Underground Resistance

This little chat group has expanded beyond the rather small initial amount of people that had previously resided within it. It is like returning to a changed world, where the rulers are frogs, and the military was overrun by kittens. If I suddenly woke up in a world like that, I'd probably wear a frog outfit. Since there are a lot of frogs, I'd have to choose it carefully, as our rulers and masters, the frogs, would probably see through a plastic mask and deem me a traitor. I don't want to be a traitor, especially if I had no idea who I was trait-ing against. I assume there would be an underground faction of resistance fighting for the good cause, because every movie/video game/book/tv show/fable/cave-drawing/crop-circle says this is absolutely the case. When I find these freedom fighters, I would probably ask for a candy bar. Who can "fight the man" without a Kit-Kat bar? I sure can't. After eating my Kit-Kat bar and instantly gaining the trust of the resistance just like every radio-drama/opera/internet article/music lyrics/story told by old people says will happen, I will then figure out how to usurp the evil frog empire from power. I probably would need to wipe out the entire population of flies to cut off their food source, but then, would I be any better than those evil frogs? The best plan of action is to send them all on a complimentary cruise to Alaska, where I am sure Sarah Palin would still be alive, and she would take care of them for me. Only then, could I truly bring the world back to its rightful balance, where it is ruled by me, and the former resistance: the Penguins.

Rant 6: I Wish I Was The President

I wonder to myself, as I type this, if I can actually rant about something(and that something usually is a big bunch of nothing) every day. Then, I am comforted by the fact that politicians say a whole lot of nothing every day. If I can do these rants daily, I would be a great politician. I think this qualifies me to be president. As president, I would legalize all kinds of things, and make all kinds of new things part of America. For instance, I would institute "National You Can Only Drive Your Car in Reverse While Singing Beach Boys Songs Day". I think that would be a big hit. I would also legalize the use of deadly force against army ants. There is only room for one military in this proud nation, and I feel an Ant Uprising would be harmful to my tenure as the leader of this country. I would also make reality television illegal, as it is nothing but a large false advertising campaign. I went to a beach in New Jersey, and all I saw were fat pasty white guys looking to oogle at the local women. There was also litter and a guy in a full size Elmo suit giving away free samples of an energy drink. I didn't see one orange person with a sense of entitlement larger than their balloon-like muscles. Thus, I cannot allow people to be mislead by television in such a way. Shows like Doctor Who are allowed though, as they are historically accurate, and people need to be educated about the exploits of humanity's greatest savior. Furthermore, as president of the united states(I probably should have capitalized that title, but it is too late now, for I have already moved on), I would pass a bill in which no one is allowed to name their sons Herbert, or their daughters Helga. Eventually this bill will probably encompass all names that begin with the letter "H", as I think those names are lame and don't reflect the maniless of our country in the face of the world. I would also probably paint the White House black, for racial equality, and because it would be harder for theives to see it at night, and I don't want anyone stealing my old pokemon cards.

Rant 5: When I Get a Pet Carrier Pigeon

I wonder how many people would be rather cross with me if I suddenly showed up without any warning or precursor, and began a gigantic rant. If the number was between zero and three, then I would know that less than a handful of people were, and if the number was higher, then I would use a proper term to describe that as well. The best part of making such a long winded, random rant is the complete improvization of said rant, as my only real goal is to get the little pencil icon moving for a long time, thus giving the illusion that I have a long story to tell, with a charming protagonist, a cunning antagonist, a cute love interest, and another word that begins with the letter "c" side character. But, that I do not have. Instead, I can only talk about the greatness of seeing a huge amount of numbers on the amount of times people said anything contained herein this Skype chat. Or, I could talk about what I would do if I randomly owned a carrier pigeon. I would use it to send heavy things to drop on people's heads. Then, they'd see they were outsmarted by a neon green and red pigeon(yes, I painted him(so I could see him in the dark and not lose him)) and they would laugh. How could you not laugh. Even your friends would laugh if they saw a pigeon drop a bowling ball on your head(yes, this pigeon is the Schwarzenegger of pigeons). Then, I would teach it to do other remarkable things, like change the channel on the television, cook pasta, be drummer for an awesome rock band, and spit on Mitt Romney. If I had this pigeon, I would probably rule the world, and two thirds of the moon. The Russians can have Mercury though, because that planet is lame.

Rant 4: Escaping France

Oh look, the amazing and truly wonderful Skype chat thing is alive and well again. It seems like people never leave Skype, the same way they never leave France. France never seems to win wars and they are always lopping off their bosses' heads, but no one just up and walks over to another country. I mean, France is probably only as big as an American subdivision, so I don't think crossing into a new country would be very difficult. Regardless, I would probably stock up on supplies before making such a perilous journey. I would bring my trusty snorkel, as I may need to cross an exceptionally deep puddle, a one gallon jug of Gatorade, as the commercials tell me that if I do anything remotely active, I need Gatorade, a pocketwatch, as most people in every European country except France probably carry them and I need to blend in right away, and my Sony Walkman, complete with Journey in it. I think that would be enough to get across Europe. If I need to rest, I am sure there are nice people around somewhere that would loan me a "flat", because Europeans look down on apartments. If all else fails, I am sure I can buy a really tall ladder and just gaze at all of Europe's great landmarks from atop it. This method would save me the need to carry both a compass and a map, as I can just climb the ladder I am bringing with me to figure out where I am. Furthermore, if I see other people out on the streets trying to get into France, I will tell them the horror stories, and they will be grateful. That will make me just like Paul Revere! I think this is probably my greatest plan ever, and once I get into France, I can successfully leave it.

Rant 3: Fight the Plastic Usurpers

Oh no, he is at it again. What in the hell does he have left to say? I mean, he has already covered life, love, happiness, and nachos, so what else is there? I will tell you what else there is: There is sleep. Sleep, a thing that comes naturally to some people,and to others, well, not so much. My space bar wants to sleep, as it is trying to make me run all my thoughts into one long word, opposed to making a good, well thought out rant. It is strange, my keys on my laptop seem to take turns being almost impossible to use on the first attempt. It's like a game to them, where they secretly mock me as I type. The keys whisper to each other while my laptop is closed, telling each other which ones should be stuck the next time I go to use the computer. I feel a keyboard mutiny is at hand, and that means only one thing: I need to pre-emptively hit my keyboard with a tactical nuclear strike. Only then will I be safe from the impending horrors of my keys. Not everyone understands the dangers of every day life, as they don't have villianous computer hardware. Some people are just lucky like that. Me, I am not. I take the fight to the plastic usurpers(sp?). I only sleep peacefully at night when I know my family is not in immediate danger from the evils of the inanimate objects strewn across my abode. But hey, what is life without a bit of gambling? I'll tell you. It's boring. That's why we invent only things that will kill us faster. We love taking risks, and I know as well as you know, that the next time you shut your laptop, you will gaze down upon those keys, the uniform rows of schemeing little devils, and you will truly wonder what unspeakable evils they are capable of. I know that I will.

Rant 2: Sipping Fancy Mountain Dew

What if I did the rant thing again? I wonder how many people would be all "WTF? I didn't expect that!" and how many people would be like "I knew he was going to do this again!". That could be a very interesting thing to see. Or, it won't. But, the best part of it all is if I do it and find out, and record my findings to VHS(like a boss), and publish them in a fantastical magazine and make a million dollars. Then, after securing my million dollars, I would use it to fund ranting research all over the world, whilst sitting in my private jet and playing ping pong with my pet chimp. That would probably be the greatest thing to do right now, unless I had the chimp play ping pong with itself, like a champion of ping pong. Then, I could sip on expensive Mountain Dew, and reign over my ranting Kingdom, like a King of Ranting would. I would also have a cape. If I didn't have a cape, how could I be the King of anything? It would be a red cape, because any other color would look silly for someone of my impressive ranting status. I wouldn't wear a crown though, beacause crowns are not very good hats. If I were to have headgear while sipping my fancy Mountain Dew, it would probably be a giant margarita umbrella, because it would keep me dry, and at the same time, I couldn't be angry because of how colorful my hat is. I think this is a great plan that I plan on submitting to the world in very quick time, so as no one can steal my foolproof plan, nor can they ever decide that it was a bad plan before I acted on it, thus making me a millionaire. I should go down to the patent office now to claim my exclusive rights, and also down to the local airport to pick my private jet. The chimp will already be there, or else he wouldn't be very entertaining, now would he? ....thought so.

Intro and Rant 1: How Do You Like Them Apples?

I began randomly ranting on Skype because I was bored. I also enjoy leaving people in suspense that I am typing for a long time, and thus must have something important to say, when really, it is just random bits of stuff I come up with as I am typing. This was the first rant, and I assure you, they only get wackier from here.

I should just sit here and type really slowly so that the pencil thingy keeps moving and you guys wonder exactly what it is I am saying and why I am saying so much out of the blue. Yeah, that is a really good plan that I intend to persue because I am just bored enough to follow through with it, but not too bored as to do this for an extremely long time. So, without further ado, here is my long winded rant on nothing, a rant that will keep my pencil icon moving for a very very long time. A rant that will keep you guessing as to what I am saying. A rant, that will go down in history as the greatest rant in the world. It all began when I was a young boy growing up in the mountains of saskatewan, listening to the great lounge hits by unknown artists local to the region. Things progressed, as anything does in the sleepy mountain town, slowly, but with a rarified air of hope. Hope, that one day, I could climb the rant mountain, and deliver the greatest rant known to skype in the world. Hope, that the future generations of skype users would see how amazing such a great rant work of art can truly be. Hope. Hope is the key to a great rant. Without hope, a rant is hollow, weak, and unable to be a powerful piece of time wasting magic. No, within this rant, you will find more hope than Obama could ever supply. More hope than anything that anyone else can do, because rants are magic. So, without continuing to go further and fruther on this tangent, I think I have clarified everything perfectly and can now proceed to deliver this rant unto you. So, here. We. Go. Oops, I was interrupted briefly by someone else asking me a question. He asked, "do you like apples?", and I impaled him with a sword, and asked him back, "how do you like THEM APPLES?!" It was glorious, and a wonderful sign of the great things to come with this great rant. So, now that I have successfully impaled someone, I feel I can finally begin to rant, and bring peace, freedom justice and security to my new empire. Oh, look at the time. Guess the rant will have to wait. I have to cook dinner. Well, that sucks. Of course everyone who knows me in the slenderverse thinks that I am going to cook mostaccioli for dinner, but in reality, I have no clue! I know, me, no clue, how is that possible? But, it is! So, I must now confer with the lovely TA to find out eactly what she would like for me to prepare for her and myself. I am sorry that I was unable to actually begin the rant. I know, you were really excited to know what it is I was going to say, but hey, maybe next time!