Anti-gravity Shoes, ACTIVATE!

Today, I decided that I was going to leap through the air and grab a branch on a tree that was well out of my reach. Why? I have absolutely no idea, and I really do hate to use the, "because I felt like it" excuse. However, there was no reason. Like I said, the branch was well out of my reach. So I stood there, under a tree, for over five minutes, leaping up and down, trying to get that stupid branch. I tried everything. Running starts. Really, really long running starts. Leaping repeatedly within a matter of seconds. Trying to grab it with both hands. Trying to grab it with one hand.
Nothing worked. That branch was starting to annoy me. So I tried, again and again and again. If at first it was not five minutes, at this point, I had definitely been there for more than that. Eventually, it was unbearable. Something inside of me needed  to have that branch. Having no other ideas, I stuck my hand straight up in the air as far as I could, screamed, "Anti-gravity Shoes, ACTIVATE!" Then leaped. I sailed nobly right up to that branch, grabbed a hold of it, and landed firmly on the ground, wearing a smug grin of triumph that you would expect to be used by Captain Hammer, the corporate tool of Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog.

Actually, that's how it played out in my head. In reality, it went a little something like this:
I screamed internally, "Anti-gravity Shoes, ACTIVATE!" Then leaped into the air, wildly clawing at the branch, until I managed to bear-hug it with one arm. I plummeted back to the ground, branch in hand, proclaiming, "I got it! I GOT IT! Igotitigotitigotitigotit!" When I landed, I was off balance, so I stood there, flailing my arms around whilst trying to hang on to my precious tree branch, hopping up and down on one foot, whacking all my limbs around, until I smacked myself in the face with the branch. I sailed through the air yet again, then, face first, was ground into the grass, my nose practically coming apart, my whole mouth filled to the brim with leaves.
But do you know what?
I got it.

Thanks For Clarifying

To be honest, I had doubts. I'm so grateful that these instructions were made available to me:

And that my friends is how... Never mind.

Apparently I've been doing it wrong.

Waking Up

It's not very often that geniuses wake up with a crazy and fantastical idea about what time it is and where they are and what's going on and whether or not they are a member of the CIA.
That's why I'm the Anti-Genius.
Mornings can be crazy. I'm one of those people who has a hobby. My hobby is sleeping. My hobby is dreaming. About anything, really. Dreaming is just life being awesome, and dancing, and screaming in your face with flailing limbs, dancing up and down, yelling, "Hey, over here, look! YEAH I'M AWESOME!" Or something along those lines. Long story short, I like to dream more than anything else.

I'm sure that you've had the morning bout of confusion before: You wake up in a panic. You think that you've gotten up late, so you spring to your feet in a flurry of flying blankets, begin to tug on your jeans, and then realize that your alarm clock isn't even supposed to go off for another hour.
What's my first thought in the morning?
Murhurhurhur. (That's my take on the classic ol' "mwahahahahaha"). I spring out of bed thinking:
I've been separated from the time continuum. My entire bedroom has shifted to a time frame two hours before that of the normal world, thus cutting my connection to everything else, and meaning that although my intended location doesn't need me outside of the bubble I'm trapped in, here in this bubble of shifted time I am in fact supposed to be there and currently late, ergo the fractured time stream means that I've fallen into a dual late/early predicament that is entirely inescapable, and there is no way to undo its consequences!

My second thought is, "Dear goodness, that doesn't even make any sense."

Horoscopes: What's up with that?

Have you ever heard the term, "This's so obscure that you could make a horoscope out of it!"? No, I don't imagine you would've. It's a fairly obscure term. Maybe obscure enough to make a horoscope out of it. Or not. Let's stick to the not side. But, have you noticed that, if you are one of the people who is stupid enough to randomly read horoscopes, they all apply to you? Even the ones that don't fall under your "cosmic sign" or whatever it's called?

Gee, I wonder why! 

Maybe it's because, I dunno... they're obscure? I love how they say things that are an everyday, "no kidding" kind of thing. At this point, I can't even read horoscopes for kicks anymore. They're not funny. Just plain dumb. I mean, a couple of examples, here's some paraphrased horoscopes:

Aries (please note that this is one from a Saturday): "Things will free up a bit today."

Virgo: "A little bit of conservation today will enable you to have infinite luxury tomorrow." (Am I the only one who thought, "Confucius says" before this one? Honestly? That's a slap-yer-forehead piece of advice right there. Derp!)

And then there are the ones which are just plain bad, and probably not too terribly smart:

Taurus: "Turn your back on the problems of the day -- and they will eventually go away."

What kind of a thing to say is that? Isn't it just asking for trouble?

And for those of you who don't already watch too many stupid and pointless videos: This one... This one is great.

"That's Your Horoscope For Today" sung by "Weird Al" Yankovic and illustrated by some random YouTube user.

Parasitic Organisms and Children

Technically, in scientific terms, a baby is a parasite. Think about it! It lives inside of you, and it feeds off of the material that you consume for energy. Assuming, of course, that you are a pregnant lady. Which, thinking back on that, is a pretty big assumption.
Granted, it is a parasite that we want to have, normally, but it's a parasite.
Furthermore, using definitions from the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, we can prove it:

   2

   : an organism living in, with, or on another organism in parasitism

   3

   : something that resembles a biological parasite in dependence on something else for existence or support without making a useful or adequate return

Forgive me if I'm wrong, but babies do live in people, do they not? And hey, they depend on their parents for support in existence without any adequate or useful return as well. Some do that until they're thirty five years old.
Then, because it's mentioned, and just for fun and the sake of being stupid, we can look at the definition for parasitism:

   1

   : the behavior of a parasite

   2

   : an intimate association between organisms of two or more kinds; especially: one in which a parasite obtains benefits from a host which it usually injures

   3

   : parasitosis

EVIDENCE.

A mother slash baby association could most certainly be considered intimate, in the very least. To top that off, we can say that it fits the last part of the definition. They do obtain benefit from and injure their hosts (Cough cough, mothers), if only a little. I mean, babies do kick, so we can say that they are especially parasites. It's something that they're known for. And just for the sake of doing so, let's look at parasitosis:

1    : infestation with or disease caused by parasites

Children could definitely be described as an infestation. That's how I would describe my siblings, at least. And, though I wouldn't really know from first hand experience, I'm sure that motherhood is a disease.
Long story short, don't over think parasites. Or children. You may find a correlation.People, this is why we don't refer to babies in scientific terms.

Yikes.

Well, that must look awful. I made a post about why blogging sucks, and I promised to continue posting despite the fact that there is not a single soul in the Universe of Words who actually reads this...
And then I dropped off the face of the planet.
This must look pretty darn bad to all you nonexistent readers. It looks like I threw in the proverbial towel. I can already hear the fictional shouts:

"The Anti-Genius is a coward!"
"Terminal Stupidity is LAME!"
"Darn. I thought this might get good." <(Everyone knows THAT one isn't true...)
"ARGGGH!"

Poor fictional shouter reader people. I apologize for my utter failure.
I still exist though, and I still intend upon blogging. So hold your fictional tongues.