Hey guys!
Long time no see! Anyone still reading? Well, hey, as long as you’re here, head on over to my Myspace! There’s a new song I recorded! Yay!
I didn’t write the song, but guess who did? JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE! You love him! So you’re bound to love MY rendition!
Gabbledefloop!
Here is a video project I have been working on. Enjoy!
There is no absolutely no reason why I should admit this since no one was around to see it happen, but as I am somewhat intoxicated I’m going to anyway.
Moments ago, while on commercial break from The Suite Life of Zac and Cody on the Disney Channel, there was a commercial talking about the scheduling of their other programs. At one point they mentioned when the show Phil of the Future would be on and showed a clip of that show’s star, Ricky Ullman, eating a plate of ribs.
I yelled out, “Hey! That was a clip from That’s So Raven!”
That’s correct. From one 2 second clip, I could tell that it was from the episode of That’s So Raven that Ricky Ullman guest starred in and not in fact from his own show.
This is my Saturday night.
Someone please be my friend and rescue me from my pathetic existence.
http://www.myspace.com/rhymington
Listen to this song and think of me, for today, I am twenty one years old.
I have watched this cartoon so many times.
Check out this very Christian video about Free Hugs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXIJOsi6EMI
Around 4 minutes and 33 seconds, witness me being one of the few people who says no to the hug. Take that, Jesus.
I’m sorry to make you sit through that much of the music.
http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1802175110
A fat guy with a moustache is truly the voice of God, wouldn’t you agree?
I recorded a new song called “I Wanna B N AC/DC!” Listen to it at my myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/shaynelechelt
Colin helped out with recording, mixing, additional guitars, and background vocals. Thanks Colin!
Here’s the second of my memoirs from my writing class. I like this one a lot. It’s pretty long. If I sent it to you before, read this one; it’s an updated version that is better. Anyway, here it is:
Dale was a vampire, but not in the traditional sense. When his fangs sunk into you, it was not your blood that he fed upon, but your personality. The rise of the sun had no effect on him; he never cowered at crosses; his skin would not melt when doused with Holy Water. I never found out exactly what his weakness was, although I think a stake in the heart might have done the trick. His weaknesses certainly did not include insults, threats, or “I hate you, Dale.” These simply bounced off of him, either ignored or somehow unheard.
Ah, but of course, as with every tale of vampires, the problem began with my friends and me. If you are familiar with vampire lore, you are aware that these soulless beings are unable to enter a home unless invited. We welcomed him with open arms. Dale had just transferred to our high school, carrying only a light backpack and a heavy heart. He played the part of pathetic stranger to perfection and we took the bait. On our way to the cafeteria one fateful day, Brian, Colin, David, Heather, and I passed by a lonely figure curled up on the floor slowly eating his lunch. My heart seized control of my body and pulled me to a stop. My friends followed suit. We all knew what we had to do.
“Uhh… Hey man… You wanna come eat lunch with us or something?” Brian said to the lump that was Dale on the floor. Dale looked up, his lonely expression having suddenly transformed into an eager one.
“Yeah! Sure, that’d be great!” He exclaimed.
Within days we realized our mistake. Dale was not someone we wanted hanging around. Dale drained the life out of every conversation that involved him, and those precious few where he was absent dealt only with how to get rid of him.
Brian began the conversation. “Guys, this is getting really bad. He repeats our jokes literally seconds after we say them and claims they’re his own. He told me that he really believes ‘our personalities are, like, exactly the same.’“
“Yeah, that’s because he just stole it,” I said.
“Right, well, we have to do something.”
But we didn’t. Or rather, we couldn’t. We tried, but nothing could get him to leave. We told him how unwanted he was, but as I said, verbal abuse had no effect on him. We tried to pawn him off on other people, but they refused to take him. Month after month we tried to escape his clutches, but his grip tightened with every passing moment.
The end of the year was upon us, which meant the band trip would soon be here. Each week our excitement grew, because this year, we were to fly to sunny Orlando, Florida for Disney World. Originally, Dale was not going to be able to go. However, when one of our actual friends became unable to go, Dale took her place, somehow managing to worm his way into a free vacation. We narrowly avoided rooming with him.
Of course, any time we were outside of the room, Dale was there. Following us, copying us, annoying us, never once leaving us. He was turning our thousand dollar vacation into a very expensive nightmare.
The second day of the trip had us at Epcot Center. Epcot, the educational park, is significantly lacking in exciting rides. Filled with many buildings showing off science experiments, countless “slow moving trips through time,” and one potentially exciting attraction known as the Test Track, Epcot’s dullness would prove to be too strong.
Our group explored the park in a dismal funk, waiting for a chance to escape from Dale. Each section we visited seemed to only amplify our dire situation. We rode the world famous “Spaceship Earth,” but this sent us on an incredibly slow fifteen minute ride stuck with Dale. We rode “Journey Into Imagination with Figment” and encountered the same problem. “Ellen’s Energy Adventure”? Another fifteen minutes of torture.
“If we don’t get on something exciting, I’m going to kill myself,” I said. The others agreed. As we walked toward the Test Track, Dale excitedly explained what little he knew about the ride.
“Guys! This ride is supposed to be so good! It’s like the life of a crash test dummy! You ride in a car and you go really fast at a wall! It doesn’t even have a track on it! Guys, IT’S FREEWHEELIN!!!”
“Dale! What the hell is wrong with you? Track is in the goddamn name of the ride! Shut up already!” Colin yelled.
Once we got to the ride, we found that it was under maintenance and would not open until later in the day. We seemed to have no luck.
“Man, that really sucks, guys. I swear that ride would’ve been awesome! Maybe we can get on it later, though. I bet we can find something to do around here. Let’s just keep going…” Dale rambled on.
“Oh my God,” I whispered to Heather. “This is unbearable. We have got to do something. We need to get away from him.”
Our getaway took place in the Innoventions building. This building features many inventions and scientific experiments, showing off the wonders of the imagination. A fitting place for the concoction of our brilliant escape. Colin, Heather, Brian, David, and I looked at each other knowingly. Slowly, one by one, we broke away from Dale. Separated from the group, I left the building. I nervously looked around each corner waiting for the others to show. Eventually, they began to come out. First Heather, then Colin, then Brian. Regrettably, David was left behind with Dale. A sad loss to be sure, but all wars have some necessary casualties.
We ran from that place as fast as we could, for the first time on the trip laughing and truly enjoying ourselves. We entered Spaceship Earth again. While it had previously been an excruciatingly long ride with Dale, it was now a peaceful fifteen minutes spent with my best friends. This moment was like a diamond in a puddle of mud—something beautiful and precious in the midst of something ugly and foul. Such a short amount of time spent in such a tedious ride, and yet, it remains one of my favorite memories—a tiny, happy instant with my closest friends.
After the ride ended, Heather and I suggested we make our way to the monorail, a mere fifty feet from where we stood, and escape to another park where they would never find us. Colin and Brian insisted that we go back to the Test Track, located on the other side of the park, to see if it had yet opened. Somehow they persuaded us. We dashed across the park, hoping against hope that Dale would not appear around a corner. As we neared the Test Track, my heart furiously jumping inside my chest, we found that it was indeed still closed. I felt sick, knowing how much time had been wasted. In between large, panting breaths, I angrily rubbed it into their faces.
“Thanks a lot, guys! This little detour has cost us some serious getaway time! Let’s get back to the monorail before they find us.” The others agreed and we quickly went back in the other direction. Soon we were within fifty feet of the monorail station’s gate. With smiles on our faces, we realized that we had actually beaten Dale. Only twenty feet left! We were going to escape this monster at long last! Ten feet!
“HEY! HEY GUYS!!!”
“No… No! There’s no way!” Brian said.
“HEEYYY!!!!”
“Just keep going! We can still make it!!” Colin yelled.
“WAIT UP!!!”
Pain shot down my entire body as I felt my life sucked out through two small holes in the side of my neck.
I’d meant to post these along time ago, but I never got to it. For my Advanced Writing class, I did a couple of memoirs and I figured they’d be good to put up here. This is the first one, titled “A Christmas Tragedy,” because that was the best I could come up with. I’ll put the other one up soon. That’s the plan anyway. Here’s this one, anyway:
My left foot tapped Morse code on the floor, while my hardworking teeth shortened my fingernails. If the bell didn’t ring soon, I probably would have walked out of school missing three fingers and the sole of my left shoe. But the time finally came. The last bell rang. Christmas break had finally arrived. I slung my bag over my shoulder and jumped out of my seat. My feet slammed against the floor as I sped along the halls of T.A. Howard Middle School. The doors flew open and the school emptied itself.
I got to the sidewalk where I waited for my mother to pick me up every day and resumed gnawing at my fingers. I feared that if I didn’t get away from that place soon, the black hole that was my school would find a way to suck me back in and never let me leave. In the distance, I could see my mother driving up. Thank God, she made it in time, I thought. I no longer had control of my body. Excitement had taken over the wheel and hit the gas. I reached my mother’s car. She didn’t stop. I slammed right up against it and an intense pain shot into my foot. That’s when the car stopped. I looked down at my left foot to find the wheel pressing down on top of it. I had only a moment to picture myself as a cartoon, with a large flat foot covered in tire tracks, before I let out a scream. My mom and sister looked out the window, confused, and my mom said, “Get in!”
“YOU ARE ON MY FOOT!” I shouted.
“What? Get in the car!”
“I CAN’T! YOU… ARE… ON… MY… FOOT!!!”
She cried out in surprise and put the car into reverse. My foot was relieved of the pressure, but the pain lingered on. As I opened the door to the car, I heard the shrill laughter of seventh graders still standing on the sidewalk. I glanced over to find several kids enjoying the free entertainment and threw myself into the car. My sister slammed her fist against the window at the cackling children in an attempt to end their ridicule. We drove away from the school and the hyenas that filled it. On the way to the hospital, my mother interrupted my howls of pain with apology after apology.
Some fortune shined on me that day, or perhaps it was simply Christmas spirit, as I ended up with no broken bones, just a bruised foot and ego. The nurses then eased my pain (as well as my mother’s) when they explained that they all had run over their sons’ feet at some point in their lives