Entry 5: The most stupid entry to date

Alright everyone I’m sorry it took so long for me to hammer this entry out. Not that anyone cares… but… yeah. You know the drill! Share what you like, shut up about what you don’t (actually I’ll take any feedback at this point) and don’t be afraid to speak your mind! So without any further ado, I present to you the dumbest update so far.

First off, I’d like to address a recent upswing in stupidity in the parenting community. Some of you may not be aware of this but there has been a huge increase in parents allowing their children to undergo a specific type of surgery. Not plastic surgery to enhance their cheeks or some surgery to make them taller. No no no, these are all too tame for these pioneers of adolescent rights. They’re advocates and practitioners of GENDER REASSIGNMENT SURGERY!! What. The. Hell. Ok, as a psychology major I feel like I need to hold my personal opinion about this type of surgery back. I won’t argue for or against it, but who the hell let these “parents” reproduce? In the immortal words of Brad Paisley “at 17, it’s hard to see past Friday night.”  As a psychology major, I can speak to the mental and emotional development of these children. It’s commonly accepted among almost EVERY SINGLE PSYCHOLOGIST that children do not have long-term planning skills until at least 17 years of age with some taking as long as their early 20’s. But no, lets not listen to the experts, we had this kid so we’re going to allow them to strong arm us into a permanent surgery before they can count to 100!! If you haven’t picked up on it yet, I think these “parents” need some drastic and thorough help. Somebody please step in, and don’t even get me started on the idiot doctors performing these surgeries. I can’t do it anymore, I gotta move on to a different topic.

Alright, more idiots! This time they happen to control the news, specifically CNN. Recently a controversial rape case was resolved. Yes all participants were underage. Yes alcohol was involved. And yes, just like in every other rape case, the perpetrators were portrayed as the victims. Wait… what was that last one? Did I just say the perpetrators (plural) were the victims? Umm… hold on a second. Alright let’s rewind a bit. This case happened in Steubenville, God only knows what state. Ok; party… check, alcohol… check, members of the opposite sex… check, ridiculous media reaction to a conviction of two RAPISTS!!… check. These upstanding gentleman athletes who had never been in trouble with the law before not only managed to take advantage of a passed out female, they managed to urinate on her, photograph her, and distribute said photographs while making a major news network believe that they were the ones being taken advantage of. Oh my goodness. I am already so sick of idiots but alas, I shall trudge on.

Now, onto a more upbeat class of morons. I don’t for the life of me remember where or when this particular story took place but I heard it on the radio so it must be true, right? Ok, middle class neighborhood, middle of the day. No one’s home, the kids are at school and mommy and daddy are off to work making the moolah. Sounds like a prime target for thievery. So, two or three would be robbers roll up on a particularly ripe looking house and set out on their nefarious ways. Naturally, they leave the keys in the car for a quick getaway. Unfortunately the crooks chose the noon hour to carry out their crime. The same noon hour which lends the “victims” an hour to go home and enjoy a meal together. Well, upon arrival the owners of the home discover some ruffians ravaging through their house and an unlocked getaway car waiting patiently for their return. What to do? the couple wonders. Well finally they decide to take the keys and insist all their belongings are returned without harm and they will let the would-be criminals go. Upon discovering this dilemma, the thieves decide that their impromptu captors have underestimated them. So what do they do? I’m sure all of you are wondering. The criminals CALL THE COPS!! Talk about getting your just desserts. Part of me wishes that stupidity of this magnitude didn’t exist but at the same time I am so SO HAPPY that I can see such wonderful examples of extraordinary deficits of intelligence. It truly does make my day.

Alright well now that I’ve thoroughly delved into the deepest reaches of human stupidity I feel like I have successfully put together yet another regular entry. For those of you who are curious about the increase in adolescent sex change surgeries here is where I got the bulk of my material: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-204_162-57381241/sex-change-treatment-for-kids-on-the-rise/. If anyone is wondering about the rape case here is the link for that also: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-57574728-504083/steubenville-rape-trial-verdict-judge-finds-both-teens-guilty-of-raping-16-year-old-girl/ Yes I know CBS is getting a lot of love from me this week but it wasn’t intentional. Unfortunately I don’t have a link for the idiot robbers but I think I covered that well enough. Thanks again to everyone who found time in their busy schedules to give my page a view. I greatly appreciate it. Happy Birthday Cleppe!! Love you dude!!!!


Entry 4: Lyrical Pronunciation and Farmer’s Only

Welcome back for the 4th installment of my regular blog entries.  I struggled a little bit with topics this week but I think I managed to still put out quality topics. That being said, if I continue to struggle I may move my updates to once every two weeks. Please, hold your tears, it’s for your benefit as well as mine. I’m doing this because I care. Now on to the bread and butter!

I’d like to talk a little bit about music. Before you ask, no I’m not going to talk about Taylor Swift, Justin Beiber or Nicki Minaj.  I’m also not going to talk about auto tuning or dub step. I realize that if I did  I could produce an entirely new category solely dedicated to how shitty today’s music is but I’m going to tackle a less talked about subject. Pronunciation. Now before I get into it I know that some styles of music; like screamo, heavy metal and rap, require a certain amount of exposure before you can tell what they’re talking about.  That being said, if your song hits the top 10 of any “current hits” chart we better be able to understand what you’re saying.  I can excuse the random dubstep/Nicki Minaj mash up; but seriously, if you’re at the top for a couple of weeks and the chorus has a line that no one can understand, you need to reconsider your lyrics. One recent song I’ve heard, and that I refuse to find the title for because I can’t understand what the hell they’re singing, has at least 4 different interpretations. During this chorus I can hear: 1.) Sexy loving 2.)Sexy nothing 3.)Sweet loving and last but not least 4.) Sexy oven. Talk about making no sense. Really artist? You’re living on sexy oven? Good Lord learn how to pronounce words in the English language and for Christ’s sake spend a little more time in the recording studio. For all our sake’s. Now I’d like to talk to you all about dating sites. Well, one in particular.

My next topic is one that might be of use to all you lonesome ranchers out there. FarmersOnly.com. The commercial starts off saying that God created farmers on the 8th day. OK I won’t dispute or complain about this too much, the Bible doesn’t say anything about the 8th day.  That being said, God could have created chocolate pooping leprechauns on the 8th day for all we know, but I’ll let it go. The ad continues with the importance of farmers by saying “after all, no farms, no food.” This I won’t dispute, and if you try to we may have an issue. After that the commercial states that on the 9th day the farmer was lonely, so farmersonly.com was created. This dating site is for “small town American’s across the country.” This commercial gets a few things right, mainly that most farming communities have a strong connection to small town America and to Christianity.  But what self-respecting small town American is going to go to a nation wide website to find their soul mate? If I’ve learned one thing while living in rural Minnesota it’s that those who grow up in small towns and plan to use farming as their career do not plan on moving halfway across the country for a girl they “met” on the internet.  Likewise, a small town girl looking for a “simple living” (don’t get me wrong, farming is not simple at all) isn’t going to move 4 states over for an online profile, a couple hundred acres of land, and a combine. Now on to some real humor folks!

Alright well another week is in the bag! Music and Farmers were covered this week. As always if you’ve got any suggestions for topics I’m open to them. Any comments and critiques are also welcome. Thanks for all feedback and views! I hope at least some of you are starting to look forward to my updates. Again any shares, comments, and critiques are greatly appreciated. I hope I brightened at least some of your days! This is RantingGrant signing off!

The Night

Venturing about at night can be a dangerous affair.  Long shadows become monsters creeping about.  Tree branches become hands knocking at the windows.  The most terrifying thing of all though, is within yourself.  Your imagination can be far worse than reality.  With your imagination, a simple mouse can become a hellish rat with red glowing eyes.  It can chase you through the house.  You think you have found safety in a closet, but you soon realize that you’ve been ensnared in cotton arms of terror.  You shriek, only to realize that your mouth has been drained of all moisture.  You escape the evil clutches of the cloth and exit the closet.  You look to your left.  There is an intruder in your house, staring at you.  You reach out your hand.  They do the same.  You see a bat lying on the floor and you pick it up.  Looking up you realize your opponent has found a similar weapon.  Your determination and resolve solidify.  This intruder will not be leaving your home alive.  You pull the bat back, ready to strike.  The person silently mimics you.  You lunge forward, striking at the intruder, only to be showered with glass.  When your imagination runs unchecked and the darkness creeps into your mind, you become your own worst enemy.

Entry 3: The roaming hordes, the shuru, and lynchables.

Hello everyone and welcome to the third installment of my blog. I’d like to thank you all again for taking time out of your busy days to listen to me ramble. I appreciate all the feedback I’ve gotten from everyone. As always thanks for checking out my entries.

Now, let’s get on with the show. A lot of people think that there’s something wrong with the world now, that it should be like the good ole days. They’re partially right and I have a solution. Mongolian hordes. Well, not necessarily Mongolian ones, they went a little crazy riding the women and raping the horses and all, we can leave that part out. What I want are hordes of 1.) rednecks and 2.) metrosexuals. Picture this, a roaming band of redneck men who duck hunt, skin deer, catch salmon, piss whiskey and then drink it straight hauling privileged pent house dwelling heirs out into the wild to live off the land for a week. Now there’s a show I’d go outta my way to watch. And imagine the reverse, the Duck Dynasty men getting pedicures, haircuts and heaven forbid, getting their beards trimmed. Heck, just put one of each in a house and see what happens. Think Paul Bunyan meets a straight Neil Patrick Harris.

On a completely unrelated note, Kmart has a new man running the shoe department, yours truly. No I cannot get you socks for free or slide you some sweet Dr. Scholls inserts, as much as I hate my job, I’d like to keep it. One of my coworkers dubbed me the new “Shoe Guru” which I appropriately shortened to “The Shuru.” That’s right, I said it, I’m not afraid to be that corny. Come to think of it that would make quite the superhero. Able to size up even the largest feet, capable of leaping entire stacks of shoes in a single bound. Yep, I’m a superhero. Now I just need a catch phrase. Tripping up crime one lace at a time. I can’t believe I just said that.

Speaking of Kmart! That’s where the idea for a new segment came to me. Because of my fat fingers and lack of dexterity, I mistakenly typed the world “Lynchables” into my phone instead of “Lunchables.” Golden mistake. Not only does it depict a neat little meal conveniently packed for your enjoyment but it expresses a willingness to be chased down the streets by an angry mob with torches and pitchforks.  Now I’m not supporting the crimes of our stained past, I’m merely expressing the delight that could be found in a childhood snack if only one letter were changed. If you’ve got a word that could benefit from such a transformation or one similar let me know and if I get enough good ones I’ll make a new segment called “Weekend Words” or include them in a future entry.

Well that’s all for this week. Again thank you for trudging through yet another entry and as usual blah blah blah you know the drill. We’ve come a long ways this week; from fixing America to the birth of a superhero and arriving at a snack that always makes me reminisce. See you next week everybody!

– The Shuru –

Entry #2: Making it worse, The purpose of a college education, and Touch screen ordering.

First off I’d like to thank anyone who stumble back to read my newest entry.  Again any comments or suggestions are welcome and appreciated.  I’d also like to say that if you find my blog to be amusing or informative enough feel free to tell anyone else who you think would enjoy it; but enough of the appetizer, on to the entree!

First off I’d like to address anyone who complains via the internet.  This topic was inspired by the former Mustang Confessions page that I referred to in my previous entry.  People not only complained on that page, they would then complain about people complaining, and yet even more people complaining about those people.  Let’s think about this for a second.  Actually, let’s not, I already have a headache from the chain of stupidity that could lead to such a ridiculous outcome.  Listen, you’re entitled to your opinions, everyone is.  Other people are even entitled to refute your opinion.  The first level of complaining I can tolerate but I refuse to accept 2 or 3 levels of it.  If you don’t have something constructive to say or at least something that isn’t making the conversation better; basically if all you’re doing is making the argument worse, keep it to yourself.  You aren’t amusing, you aren’t trolling people, you aren’t even clever; you’re just that annoying douche that everyone wishes they could slap up side the head.  Keep it to yourself unless it furthers and benefits the conversation.  You’re in college, act like it.

Speaking of being in college, one of my professors once told his class that the purpose of college wasn’t to teach you information but to teach you how to find information.  Am I the only one who has a problem with this?  Now obviously he didn’t mean he’s teaching us how to google something or look it up on Wikipedia; but seriously, their job isn’t to teach us information? So… let me get this straight… we’re paying thousands of dollars a year to become… researchers? Secondary researchers at that.  Now I’ll admit, we were learning how to use the online databases that are provided through the university.  That being said, I don’t think we’ll be able to easily access those databases after we graduate.  I’m all for going out and doing your research and taking your education into your own hands, but isn’t that why we’re here in the first place?  We decide our majors, pick our classes to an extent, choose whether or not to go to class.  To have a professor say that it isn’t his job to teach you the facts of the field of study he is supposedly an expert in seems absolutely ridiculous to me.  Another thing that I find ridiculous is how slow fast food places are to innovate and integrate new technology.

This past weekend my parents came to Marshall to visit their youngest son who doesn’t get to go home very often.  We ended up going to a couple retail stores, they bought me some sweet sunglasses and a shirt and told me about their recent trip to the Caribbean.  The first thing we did though was wait in line at A&W for almost a half an hour, just to spend 20 minutes trying to order our food from a woman who was not the most technologically inclined.  Now neither party was hostile, we didn’t raise our voices and she remained calm and polite, a testament to her customer service capabilities.  It was during this almost hour long endeavor that I had an epiphany.  I realized the Subway in town had a touch screen ordering system for their drive through, a feature I thoroughly enjoy utilizing.  Also, Walmart has a convenient self checkout lane that can cut down your checkout time pretty dramatically.  I wondered, why can’t fast food places utilize these technologies?  A touch screen menu that can be completely operated by the customer.  Now I know what some people may say, what about people who want to order from an actual person?  Well that’s simple, put the touch screen next to the ordering station that’s already there!  Come on companies, it’s not that difficult.

I’d like to thank everyone who made it this far, this entry got a bit more long winded than I had anticipated.  That being said, I wouldn’t have typed it if I didn’t think it was worth reading.  If you think it was worth your time feel free to send the link to someone else you think might find it worthwhile.  As always I appreciate any comments or feedback you may have and if you’ve got any suggestions for further entries I would love to hear those as well.  This is G-Rant signing off.

The Full Moon Phenomena

It is a savage creature.  A mixture of man and beast, of conscience and instinct.  It possesses a tormented soul whose voice pierces the night, bouncing off the glowing cause of its horrific transformation.  Its outward facade instills nothing but terror in those it encounters while its inner mind is constantly horrified at the terrors and pain it inflicts.

It starts with the fingers.  Before they are ordinary, unnoticeable pieces of flesh and bone.  They are no different in construction than that of a child’s.  What they become is far more terrifying.  The nails turn to black claws bent on rending flesh from bone and soul from body.  Brown fur sprouts from the fingers and palms, erasing the soft alabaster color of humanity.  The muscles pulse and ripple, as they too become monstrous.  Their strength multiplies tenfold.

The transformation continues up its arms.  First the fur, then the muscled physique.  The arms become a mixture of crimson and black.  They turn to indestructible bands of steel-like strength.  One squeeze from these hideous appendages can splinter trees and grind rock to nothing but powder to be blown about by the wind.

Its toes and feet shift much like its hands and arms have.  The nails become blacker than the night sky.  But unlike the night, who has stars to light the way, the nails possess a blackness that light nothing but the way to death.  Its legs become nothing but black hair and spring like tendons.  With these superhumanly unnatural legs, the beast can leap rivers and navigate through the forest without ever leaving the treetops.

The torso is the next piece to succumb to this terrible curse.  The beast painfully rips at the flesh of his previous form.  Underneath the skin lies the majority of the monsters strength.  The skin beneath its fur has become a leathery and impenetrable guard against all but the sharpest blades.  The hair on its back standing on end to show a heightened state of awareness.  Most noticeable is the silver glint of the mane.  It runs across the shoulders, down the spine,  and ends at the small of its back; a sign of his elder status within the pack.

Finally, the face begins to turn.  His hair flows from the skull to partially mask the horrific event.  Through glimpses the transformation can be seen.  The nose extends to become a snout of spectacular capabilities.  Its lips spread to show yellow, dagger-like, teeth.  Its chin recesses to become part of its elongated neck.  The ears become pointed and hyper-sensitive.  They are able to hear a rustling mouse a mile away, or a baby softly breathing while it lies in its crib.  The eyes become bloodshot before losing all color.  They are no longer the eyes of a man, but of a demonic creature.  It is said that if they could be gazed upon one could see all their sins within the eyes of the beast.  It is also said that one may be gazing into the eyes of the ruler of the abyss, come to lay claim upon the soul.

The last thing to come is the stench.  The horrid smell of dead flesh.  It smells of sulfur and brimstone.  The creature emits a stench that is instantly repulsive but yet somehow alluring.  The scent forces the nostrils to flare and has made many men to retaste their dinner.

It howls at the moon.  Then it rears on its hind legs and leaps into the night, looking for sustenance and possible converts.  People who would sell their souls to the devil to go through this agonizing transformation until the day arrives where the moon no longer shines.