Coed Witchery 101 - Chapter 1

I stood, feeling just a little apprehension as I walked toward the stage in my white robe and tassled mortarboard hat. I heard a few snickers behind me, but that’s ok. They could laugh at me all they wanted. I was about to get the hell out of this school, this town, this life. While the jocks and cheerleaders were waking up to the reality that being cool in high school gets you jack shit in the real world, I would be going to one of the most prestigious Universities on the East Coast, Greenesville State University. While some of those cheerleaders got pregnant and married someone they couldn’t really stand, I would be meeting people from other states, other countries, the greatest minds on earth.

I’m Emma Dawes. Pretty normal name, eh? Simple southern girl type of name. You can probably picture me just from my name: dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a little pudgy from my mom’s Southern-fried-with-love cooking, wearing Daisy Dukes and a too-tight button-up shirt and just aching for a cowboy hat.

Wrong. Most days I wear dark jeans, a black top accented with red or white, bracelets and rings on each hand, pink highlights surrounded by black streaks in my blonde hair, and a nose ring. I’m also on the skinny side, since I never eat fried food and go running to burn off steam when mom and dad start fighting, which happens a lot. Not your typical southern girl from a small town. You can see now why I was getting some snickers as I walked up. I was not well-liked in high school.

The few friends I had were social anomalies themselves, some because of their taste in music, some from smoking and selling too much weed, and some of the girls because they got labeled as slutty. I fell into that category, even though I had only slept with one guy. It doesn’t matter to those catty, bitchy types, you steal one boyfriend from any of them and suddenly you’ve apparently screwed around with every guy in school.

I digress.

At the podium, hastily erected each year in our small gymnasium, the principal stood congratulating each graduate as they took their diploma and shook his hand. Today I had made myself presentable in the eyes of my parents, no nose ring, tried to hide the colored streaks under the rest of my blonde hair, and I was even wearing a dress under my graduation gown. It was a light shade of pink with a barely noticeable flowered pattern, spaghetti straps holding it up, and some respectable cleavage out in front thanks to a generously padded bra. Not my normal style, but I pulled it off, not that anyone could see it. As my name was called and I stepped up to the podium, someone in the crowd of students yelled “Skank!” I didn’t care.

I got my diploma, walked back offstage, sat down in my chair, and waited for the forty or so other students to get called up. My high school was small… we only graduated 56 seniors this year. On a good year, they might get 70 or so, but no more than that. That’s the thing about growing up in rural Kentucky… not a lot of people around, and many less who would go away to college. The guidance counselor, who I knew pretty well by now since teachers always thought I looked depressed, told me that only 14 of the graduating seniors would be going to a University. Tons more would be going to the community college down the street, some would just be going into farming or truck driving. That’s the type of town I lived in. I couldn’t wait to get out.

After the graduation ceremony, my parents found me, congratulated me as they beamed with pride, and made me the center of about three hundred pictures with every conceivable relative we had. That was fine by me. Let them fawn over me now, they deserve some quality time before I leave. My parents were alright, nothing special. My dad drinks a lot, sometimes drives home from a bar, sometimes gets thrown in the local jail for a night because of it. My mom is quiet, reserved, and everything a southern belle of a wife should be, which makes me sick. I hoped that they’d eventually get a divorce because I think away from each other they’d both be happier. Oh well, they can work that out while I’m away at college.

As we were walking out of the gym, I pulled off my gown, showing the school for the first and only time what I looked like in a dress. I heard a few catcalls from off to my left, and looked over. As expected, it was Pete Donnely and his idiot, linebacker friends. Pete was never your typical football player. He’s smart, funny, and actually cares about people. Also has a washboard stomach and loves to please a girl in bed. However, when he was with his buddies, like any other jock, he would just go along with whatever they said. I told my mom to ignore them, that I’d be out to the car in a minute after I found my friends to say adios. My dad was probably too drunk to hear them, because he kept walking. He’d been drinking from his flask during the whole ceremony. Once they had walked out the door, I turned away from the football bozos, making sure to shake my ass just a little so Pete could see what he was missing since he went back to his goody-two-shoes cheerleader, and went off to find Tom.

Tom Downing was your typical stoner, and my best friend. He supplied half the school, and always offered to me, but I had a strict policy about drugs. Alcohol, totally cool. Speed sometimes when cramming for a test. But nothing I had to inhale or inject. Just my choice, and I would never judge anyone else for their choices to the contrary. Anyway, I found Tom in one of the hallways, making a discrete deal with a fellow stoner named Jake something. Tom had his earbuds hanging from his neck, blasting 311 or some other stoner band, and was just wrapping up the deal when he saw me, gave me a “what’s up” type of nod, and walked over to me.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” His normal greeting. Tom was wearing his graduation gown, of course, but I knew underneath he had on a tie-dyed t-shirt and jeans. I could see his old Vans sneakers under the gown while he walked. His hair was curly and black as night, a testament to his Mexican heritage. He wore it in a loose ponytail behind his head, and had a peace sign tattooed in a shaved patch behind his left ear, where he could hide it for college interviews with his voluminous hair.

“Not a lot, just wanted to come see you before I head out. I don’t know how much I’ll be hanging out for the next week before I hop a bus to NC.”

“Wow, no shit. You’re really leaving all this majesty in the dust?” He spread his hands and slowly twirled, taking in the drab scenery. “You’re really missin’ out babe.”

“I’m sure. What are your plans once I’m gone?”

“Get laid a lot over at State. You’re a major cockblock, ya know.” He winked at me, because we both knew that wasn’t true. Tom got more ass than some of the jocks, thanks to his smooth talk and the bags of weed he’d give to girls after a night of sex. He didn’t exactly buy his way into girls’ pants, but he came damn close. I hoped he’d clean his act up just a little bit over in Kentucky state, just enough to keep him from getting kicked out. I loved the kid the way he was, but you get caught one time dealing and you’re out.

“I’m gonna miss you, Tom. You know, until I find some other stoner to tell me how much weed will change my life.”

“Oh, I’m sure at college you’ll experiment with all sorts of stuff, girl. You give me a call when you’re tripping on acid and watching Sesame Street and tell me it’s not the best time of your life.”

“I’m sure it will be.” I gave him a hug, then headed outside to meet my parents.

As I got to the door, Pete and his buddies appeared from around the corner.

“Emma! Hold up a second,” Pete said.

I decided to give him five seconds, since he’d never see me again.

“Hey, I just wanted you to know…” he looked down at his shoes for a long second.

“That you’re the biggest skank he’s ever laid eyes on.” That was Johnny Betts. What a dick. Johnny was your typical rich jock. His parents practically own the county, and he could always get away with anything just by mentioning his daddy’s name. His long, pointed hawk’s nose was always turned up, and his hair was blonde and long for a guy, making him look a little bit gay. He made up for that by treating women like shit. Pete gave him a stern look but didn’t stand up for me. He never did.

“I wanted to say your dress looks nice. You should dress like that more often,” Pete said.

“Oh, so if I dressed more like Barbie over there you wouldn’t have given that picture of me to your buddies to spread all over the school?” Jenni Franco, Pete’s current love interest, had just walked out of the gym, looking every bit as shallow as she’d proven herself to be hundreds of times. The picture, of course, had been one that Pete had taken with his phone of me topless after we had a really good night of sex. He told me he would delete it as soon as he transferred it to his computer, so he’d have something to keep him going at night. Of course he’d lied, and sent it to Johnny, who had consequently spread it around the whole school. We girls really can be stupid when it comes to a hot guy. “Eat shit, Pete. Good luck in college next year.”

I walked away, Pete stammering and his idiot friends calling after me with many choice names. Then Johnny said the one word that I just couldn’t walk away from. Starts with a “c”, rhymes with “front”. I whirled around, ready to tell him off again. If I had been in his shoes, I probably would’ve run, because I know I looked dangerous, even in a dress and high heels.

In that instant, the gym door slammed in his face. Hard. It looked like his nose may’ve broken. “Serves you right, douchebag,” I said. Then I noticed that the door had been tied back with rope. And the rope looked like it had been torn apart. Weird. I turned around again and walked to my parents’ car. As we were turning up my street a few minutes later, an ambulance drove straight by us, lights flashing, back toward the school. I hoped he wasn’t dead and all, but to tell you the truth, the world would’ve been a better place without him.

Coed Witchery 101

Hi everyone,

In the following posts I'll be adding a few chapters from a fantasy novel I'm working on. This is intended for college students or older, not teenagers, because there is some graphic sexual content in it. I've titled it VERY TENTATIVELY "Coed Witchery 101". I would absolutly love some suggestions on a better title for it from anyone who reads my chapters. I've got about 8 chapters finished right now, but I'll only post three until I get some feedback on those few. Here's a description of the general plot:

A girl, about to go off to college, finds that she is manifesting some interesting powers. She was shunned in high school for her slightly gothic taste and appearance, but finds solace with a group at college that she runs into. They show her that they all have some powerful gifts, and teach her how to master hers. But when some other students in the group begin to be found dead, murdered by something unimaginable, her newfound happiness turns to dread.

I hope you all enjoy it and PLEASE leave me feedback!

Tyler

What if the big three got bought by the computer community?

Sitting at Stef and Cory's house, thought I'd write something for the first time in months.

This is what would happen if, instead of a government bailout package, the computer community bought out the big three.

Microsoft buys GM:

Each of the subsidiary companies of GM would be in charge of a different type of car: 

Business class cars would run very well but have absolutely no luxuries,  not even a stereo. They would be less customizable than the other types of GM cars, in that they only come in one color: Black, and you can't change anything about them except for the vanity licence plate. They would run fast and only corporations could buy them on a corporate license.

Home Standard cars would basically be business class cars that come in a few more colors: white, black, red, blue, and a horrible shade of jeweled green, all of which have the windows logo branded on the hood which can't be removed. These cars would have a fully functioning stereo/CD player but no power locks or windows. The paint job can be customized only by removing every panel from the outside of the car and replacing them with ones built from scrap metal, then painted. 

Home Premium cars would have more luxuries than Home Standard, including power locks and windows, a built-in hard drive to store your songs on, and a GPS system. However, the GPS would routinely BSOD and have to be reinstalled. These cars woulld break down a lot more than the Business or Home Standard, as Microsoft Auto can only really focus on making one thing in the car good, at the sake of everything else. The colors available would be exactly the same as Home Standard cars, except each color could be purchased in a shiny version with little LED lights  under the hood that make it look all cool. You can customize the paint job only in the same way as the Home Standard cars.

Ultimate cars would basically do everything but fly. Colors available would be anything imaginable except for gun metal (they don't want their cars to get confused with Apple cars). Ultimate cars can also be purchased by corporations, but only for their higher-ups, as they look too pretty to be used by the simple peon.

Microsoft cars (except for Business class) would fall apart promptly as soon as the next version of Microsoft cars was released, requiring a new purchase. You can also never resell a Microsoft car (again, excluding Business class, which can be resold to any other corporation). Once it is time to replace it, you must simply scrap it and buy an entirely new car. Microsoft will of course sell "upgrade" kits, but that only saves you like $50, and you have to use some parts from the old car to build the new one yourself.

Apple buys Chrysler:

Every car made by Apple automotive would be available in only three colors: white, black, and gun metal. They would look incredible, like a ferrari on steroids, but the maximum speed would be 70 mph. All commercials would be targeted toward college students, even though the price of their cheapest car would be $40,000. 

Under the hoods would be the exact same engines as their Microsoft auto counterparts, but covered in a thin sheen of gun metal and stamped with the apple logo. These cars would run FOREVER, but anyone owning one more than two years old would be branded a loser. 

Inside the Apple car, there would be no steering  wheel, but instead a touch screen across the entire dashboard. The pedals would be replaced with a single pedal, and therefore to break you have to hold down a button on the center console and press down on that single pedal. Turning would be controlled with the touchscreen, and so about 10% of the time when you're trying to turn right, you'd turn left and crash. The stereo would be amazing, and also controlled with the touchscreen, and you could browse the web and talk on your iPhone while driving, all using the on-dash touchscreen. Of course, the only music you can listen to is Dave Matthews Band or U2. 

The Apple car could only be refuled at genuine Apple Fuel stations, which there would only be one of in each state. The fuel would be more expensive, of course, and would consist of nothing but diesel fuel infused with liquid pretentiousness.

The Linux community buys Ford:

Linux cars would run on grass clippings and go from zero to sixty in 0.4 seconds. However, to install anything such as a CD player or a sunroof, you must take the entire car apart and put it back together again. The car's paint job would be automatically controlled from the inside console, but you need to know the hexadecimal code of the color you want to input it. Some Linux cars would be reconditioned Microsoft or Apple cars, but some would be built specifically for Linux Auto, and these would have, instead of a Microsoft or Apple engine, the engine from a moped, supercharged, which would run for 5 years on a single bag of grass clippings. There would be no Linux Auto garages, as every Linux driver is by definition a do-it-yourself mechanic. If your Linux Auto broke down, and you couldn't fix it, you could post a message on the Linux Auto message board and then subsequently be attacked over the internet by 500 douchebag Linux drivers who think they know how to fix it. They would all be wrong.

Party of epic insanity

Ok so here's a crazy story:
So I come home here from Houston to visit everyone. Awesome time. I loved hanging out with everyone and had a great time at the party on Saturday night. However, after the party ended the craziest shit ever happened.
So I'm laying in bed with Melissa, in the midst of falling asleep, and I start to hear the sounds of some sexytime going on. I assumed it was Mel's roommate Amanda and the guy she was hanging out with earlier that night. However, then I realized that it wasn't coming from Amanda's room. It was closer than that.
I walk out Melissa's bedroom door, and I notice two things. One: The bathroom door is ajar. Two: I hear the following thing being said from behind said door: "Baby, your pussy is so sweet".
...
...
Eww.
So a minute later this girl (who was a random person who had shown up to the party but no one really knew) came out completely naked. And this girl was not real attractive. Her fatrolls had fatrolls.
...
...
Eww.
I proceed to say "Seriously?" and she backs into the bathroom. I assume they were putting their clothes back on while I walked back into Mel's bathroom to tell her what i saw. I walk back out, and this girl is sitting on her boyfriend's lap, with his pants around his ankles, on a chair out in the living room. I think they were still having sex. Not sure though. I kicked them out.

We found out in the five minutes following their departure that they had actually been having sex in the laundry room first, then moved to the bathtub. They also ripped Melissa's shower curtain off, which made her really mad because it is a really nice shower curtain.

WHO THE HELL DOES THAT KINDA SHIT?? They were HAVING SEX in a STRANGER'S BATHTUB!!!!!!!

Really messed up man. That's all I got right now.

Ok, seriously... foreign professors... please learn English

I'm sitting in Molecular Methods, and I'm trying to follow what's going on. But I can't. Why?

Because the professor, just like every professor at my Alma Mater, UMBC, is foreign, and can't speak English for shit. 

I'm literally getting every third word, maybe. The only way I can tell what he's talking about at all is by following his laser pointer as he highlights words on the Powerpoint presentation. Worse yet, he's talking about yeast genetics, which is boring and stupid in its own right.

Seriously, if you're gonna teach in the US, you've gotta learn how to speak. Please. PLEASE!!!!

Houston + Ike = OMG CRAZY

For anyone who would read my blog and has not yet talked to me, yes I'm alive.

Ike was definitely the scariest and most exciting storm I've ever been through. Here's how my weekend went:

Thursday, Sept. 11th - Classes were cancelled starting at 3pm, despite the fact that the storm wasn't supposed to hit us until Friday night. I thought this was odd.

Friday, Sept. 12th - Stayed at home with my friend Amanda and the cats that I am currently cat-sitting, just hanging out and enjoying a day off. My other friend Brandi also ended up coming over at around 4pm, and we all planned to weather the storm together. We had constant hurricane coverage on the TV for basically the entire day. We watched as Galveston was destroyed by Ike's fury. 

At around 9pm, we started to get some wind and rain. Not a big deal really. We were still watching TV on my futon. I had blown up air matresses for both girls to sleep on for the night, and they were probably lounging on them at that point.

Around 10:30, we started to see some heavy winds. The rain got seriously hard. Luckily, we were realizing that my windows are parallel to the direction the wind was blowing. This is probably the only thing that saved my apartment from serious damage.

Saturday, Sept. 13 - At 1:30, we were still watching storm coverage as the storm raged around us. We had been watching teal-colored lightning flashes for several hours, and the wind was very VERY loud. The power went out at this point, after we saw a huge, green flash that lasted about 10 seconds, obviously a transformer being destroyed.

By 3:30 am, we were each laying on our little makeshift beds, staring out my sliding glass doors, trying to sleep but finding that it was impossible with the howling wind outside. We got to see things like parts of roofs and pieces of metal fly past the window, sometimes we even got to see them hit cars outside my windows. Luckily my car ended up ok.

At some point I must've fallen asleep, cuz it was eventually morning and the storm hadn't completely let up. Once we were sure the storm was over, we went outside to see the damage. I'm not going to repost the pictures, because I'm sure all of you can look at my facebook to see them. If not, let me know and I'll send them to you. Suffice it to say there was plenty of damage to EVERYTHING in Houston. My apartment complex was pretty lucky compared to some others that I saw in subsequent days. Trees uprooted, roofs destroyed, cars completely smashed by debris, etc. It was scary to see what we had just sat through and emerged unscathed.

We opened all the windows because it was starting to get stuffy in my apartment without A/C. The three of us hung out in my apartment until about 5pm, when Brandi decided to go back to her place. She called us later to let us know that she had power, so Amanda and I went over to her apartment where we stayed for several nights. We drank ourselves to a fun state, calling it our Post-Ike party. Again, pictures on Facebook of me and the girls.

Tuesday, Sept. 16th - We decided we'd try to go to a movie. Unfortunately we got to the theater and found that they were closed still, surprisingly. On our drive home, Amanda's car almost fell into a sinkhole 3 feet deep, which would probably have destroyed her car. We saw half of the city black, with homeless people on every corner who looked like they should be sitting in their living rooms enjoying their TV, except for the signs that said "Homeless and hungry". Scary stuff.

Wednesday, Sept. 17th - It was announced the night before that school would start back up for us Grad students, even though the Med school students don't have class again until Monday the 22nd. I went to class, etc, and went back to Brandi's apartment. I had been checking my apartment each day, checking on the cats and the electricity. The electricity had finally come back on, and I started to get things back to a reasonable living arrangement. 

Today, Thurs. Sept. 18th - I still don't have TV or internet at home, so I'm still spending most of my time over at Brandi's apartment. Amanda will apparently not have power for at least another week, so she's living with Brandi until then. All in all, we actually were extremely lucky. Next time there's a "category 2" or higher hurricane, i'm getting the fuck out, if not for safety's sake then for convenience. 

Worst beer ever

Ok, so I'm doing the beer club at this awesome bar called Flying Saucer here in Houston. This bar is so amazing, they actually have Chimay on tap. If you don't know what Chimay is, you don't understand beer. It's that simple.

So we went there tonight, and the first beer I got was delicious, especially with the cheese combination that was suggested by the menu.

That's right... not cheese and wine.... cheese and beer. Amazing.

So I had my smoked Gouda with a delicious Kolsch called St. Arnold Lawnmower. Good stuff.

Then my best Houston friend, Amanda, told me that she was picking my next beer. Apparently she had had this beer with a few of her girlfriends a few years back, and it was awful. It tastes, as she described it, like Fruity Pebbles mixed with rubbing alcohol.

Now, most of you are saying to yourselves, "He would never drink this shit, right?"

Wrong.

See, I have to drink 200 beers at this bar to get my name put on the wall. That's my goal. So, on 2.75 pint night (Monday nights), I've decided to have at least one beer that I would never try on my own.

Tonight, it was this monstrosity:



















This horrible excuse for a beer is called the "Leinenkugels Sunset Wheat".

*SHUDDER*

It was probably the second worst beer I've ever had (right behind La Chapeau Pineapple Lambic, which almost made me puke.)

This beer really does taste like fruity pebbles. It's horrible. And the worst part is, the waitress was like "Oh, that one's good."

Yeah. Good. If you love to lick shit off the bottom of your foot after walking through a dog park. That kind of deliciousness. Ugh.