Thursday, December 31, 2009


Writing backward is harder than one would think.
New Year's resolutions:
1. Don't muck around. Get the job done.
2. Fucking take that school down with how awesome I am.
3. Attempt to eat right and be more active.
4. Don't put up with stupid shit.
5. Move on.
6. Kick ass.
7. Take names.
8. Take the opportunities that come my way.

What are yours?

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

A Lesson:

This is Sam Worthington (Yeah. He's really good looking. You may recognize him from Terminator Salvation as Marcus Wright):

In the movie Avatar, he plays Jake Sully, a marine veteran in a wheelchair (still hot):

This is Jake Sully's avatar in action and not in a big blue tank (Still hot, even though it's kind of weird because he looks a little like a feline except 10ft tall and blue):

This is Jake Sully's figurine (normal):
This is another figurine of Jake Sully (weird but still normal):
And here is yet another figurine of Jake:
Uhhh..... LOLWUT. Hold onto your wheelchairs, everyone. Who the HELL thought it was an awesome idea to make this?
"Okay, so we have Jake in his normal clothing when he first goes off into Pandora in his Avatar. Then, we've got Jake in his Avatar in his sexy Na'vi clothes he's told to wear. I think we should make Jake as his human self in his wheelchair."


So, did we learn anything from our lesson today?

Edit 1: This was not made to be offensive to anyone in a wheelchair. At all.

Edit 2: I am so funny. I applaud myself. Really. I take my right hand, reach over to my left shoulder and pat my fucking back because I am so funny. Congratulations, Morgan. You're fucking hilarious.

Oh, haaaayyyy

Okay, so I am super creepy and weird and too into Avatar. I got bored today and decided to photoshop myself as a Na'vi (based off of Zoe Saldana's character, Neytiri). I got almost all the way done with it, just had to do the eyes and the light dots and then I accidentally closed it. I spend about two hours doing it and then all was lost in an instant because I was astonishingly dim-witted and didn't save it. So, I started again from scratch and re did it (this one took me a little more than two hours after I revised it). The colors look so much better on my iMac (I usually use my laptop because my iMac is residing in my mother's room... long story.) and in photoshop for some reason. Everywhere (but dunno what that's about) distorts it so the color isn't as vibrant and the shading looks different.

Went from this:

To this (pre revision.. I thought it looked dirty on my right cheek):
To this (revised):

Click 'em to make 'em bigger. But, er, don't click the normal photo of me because it's HUGE and not awesome.
The colors are still off in the second one because I just wanted to get it done and I was unsure. So, it's still reTAHDed but I don't know what to do to fix it, so whatever. I made my nose more narrow at the bottom in the last one and it makes me wish that my nose actually looked like that. And I wish my eyes were as big as they are as a Na'vi. Sheesh.

So this blog post was really really pointless. I just wanted to show off my mad photoshopping skillz, even though it isn't perfect.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Ohio monologue by Nick Zagone

While we have a minute I thought I’d show you some paintings. This is a three part series of oils I painted called “Aliens.” People immediately think the paintings are about extra-terrestrials. Which is fine! I enjoy different interpretations. But to tell you the truth, I really don’t believe in extra-terrestrials, or UFOs. Well, maybe I do. I guess I really haven’t thought about it. Anyway, these paintings are, I hope, a bit deeper than just UFOs and ET’s. What the paintings really represent or… I guess the theme of the paintings center around the title. Which is Alien. The movie. The movie “Alien.” Well, the movies. I guess the “Alien Trilogy” might be a better term. Yes! The movies with Sigourney Weaver! You’ve seen them, that’s good. More women should see them. All women should see the Alien Trilogy. What do some sci-fi movies have to do with women you ask? Well, these simple science fiction movies could very well be the verifiable, trustworthy reflection of the struggle of the American Woman in our society over the last thirty years! Cross my heart. Each movie not only depicts the struggles of Ripley, the heroine, against the Aliens, but of Ripley the woman against man, technology, and her role in society! Oh, I know, don’t get me started! These movies are the perfect measure of how far the American woman has come, and in my paintings I have chosen to represent… this. And here they are! Since the three movies span three decades I have painted three paintings to represent the sociological and political concepts that abound… in each. In my first painting which I call Alien I, you can see the decade of the 70’s fully represented. The characters are rather passive and bewildered, falsely led into believing government, technology and machines and also stumped as to what happened to their precious 60’s. Meanwhile, the Alien… seen here dressed like Annie Hall with an Asian face and a gas can… which is a symbol of world economic problems, the gas crisis, Vietnam backwash, and the changing role of the domestic woman… bears down heavily on the characters as well as our heroine Ripley, who is shown with long, dark, bouncy and luxurious hair. Feminine hair. Hair worn for the pleasure of a man. She must defeat the Alien in the white polyester leisure suit after the so-called superior men have failed. Okay. Are you with me? In the second painting...which I call Alien II, it is now the 80’s. We see the male characters who have become trapped and helpless in the grips of their own technology, employ our heroine, Ripley, to fight the Alien once again. Only this time there are more Aliens than before. Here’s a Walter Mondale headed alien and a Gorbochov birth mark headed Alien… which are symbols of communism and liberal thinking that Ripley destroys thinking they are the real problem. But are they? Ripley’s hair is now short. She carries a gun. She fights side-by-side with the Marines. And she still looks sexy. It looks like woman is now on the same level as man. It just looks like it. The problems still exist though as one can see by the half Alien, half cockroach with George Bush’s head. Can you all see these? Okay. The last painting, Alien III. It is now the 90’s and hope is gone. The Alien is still the same old economic, foreign and social problems, but bigger, faster and with great big nasty teeth! The Alien even pushes the boundaries of religion as represented by an Alien crucified with a crown of thorns. Get it? And Ripley’s hair? Is now completely gone. Shaved. She has been stripped of her most cherished female characteristic. Ripley is now a living metaphor for a woman no longer trapped by her own body. She is not a woman, nor a man, nor an Alien. She has transcended it all. She is herself. As represented by Ripley bursting from the stomach of an Alien with Bill Clinton’s head. [A beat.] I know. They’re not that good. I guess I was made to study art, not make it. I like ‘em though. They’re how I felt. I feel like Ripley sometimes. But not enough. I’m not one of those woman haters. I’m not. I still like men. But you know what’s funny? Women never like my paintings.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Advice before you preach.

You can't say shit about me until you have walked two moons in my moccasins.


I officially do not like anyone at all anymore.
Fuck people. Really. Fuck them.
And not in a sexy way. Fuck them in a "blunt object meets their head" kind of way.
There are not enough angry faces in the world to describe how I feel about a hell of a lot of people.

Angry Morgan is angry.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Words I might have said. Or you said. Whichever.

Okay. Here it goes. Really.

I don't even know what you do with yourself. A part of me wants to know and the other part doesn't even want to hear it anymore. I'm not letting go because I'm not quite that melodramatic and ridiculous. I mean, I am a little bit, but not quite that much.

Thanks for calling.

You're... I want to say retarded, but I don't want to offend all the mentally challenged people in the world by putting you in the same category. Shut up. I don't want to listen to you anymore. They aren't going to change. Get over it. If you want to step away, go quietly. There is no need for all of this useless banter. PS, your "poetry" fucking sucks. PPS, I'm gonna make you pay if you want me to help you out again.

Thank you for geeking out with me after you saw it. I feel like such a loser, but I CAN'T HELP IT OMG I LOVED IT SO MUCH. I feel like it was the best thing since Harry Potter (gasp). What the world needed to balance out Twilight (despite the LULz that brings). On another note, I don't know why she doesn't respond to you. I don't know why she doesn't respond to anyone. I don't know anything. Ugh. We are just stuck with it unless something gives, my friend.

That's all for now, folks.

LOLOL Okay, I'm really done geeking out now. Maybe. Actually, I'm probably lying. XD
Dear James Cameron,
Please make an Avatar II and let me play one of the Na'Vi because I am totes awesome at acting and it would be hella badass. You could pay me in pennies; I wouldn't care, I would just go to coinstar.
Morgan M.

Alright, I'm really done now.

Monday, December 21, 2009

A lot of things get lost in the translation.

She loves: long showers, coming of age tales, beautiful dance, ballet shoes, high heels, art, meaningful films, and when people care.

She loves the words: fearless, liefde, truth, hilarity, arms, heart, rad, expression

She enjoys: laughing and making others laugh, as well as heartfelt conversations.

She dreams of: time travel, liefde, friendship, success, publishing a novel, acting, and dancing.

EDIT - "Liefde" (sounds like leaf duh)is Dutch for "love"

Monday, December 14, 2009

I took an antiacid. It isn't helping.

I don't even know what you think about me anymore. I don't even know what to think of you anymore.

You're still the same, and not in a good way. And I get the feeling you kind of don't give a fuck.

Do you enjoy being nasty to people that never did anything to do? What did I do? Tell you to please stop talking or to please lower your voice? Is that really so horrible? Just do the world a favor and disappear. Move to India. I never want to see you again. Actually, don't move to India, because they didn't do anything to deserve to have you in their country.

I think you're utterly ridiculous. You push and push. Shut up and stop complaining.

I am sick and tired of waiting for you.

...Too be continued.
I can't think with my stomach hurting so badly.

Holy God.

I am dying. Not really, but it feels like it. I think I have a stomach ulcer.
I cannot even begin to describe the pain I am in, but I will try.

I have this extremely intense gnawing pain in my upper abdomen. It feels like both the hungriest you have ever been as well as the most full you have ever been. You may say, "Well, then, maybe you are just very hungry, Morgan. Eat something!" But I'm not hungry. I ate a bowl of soup around five o'clock. Not even thirty minutes later, the pain started up again.
It's been going on for about two days now.
God I hope I'm wrong and I'm just sick. I cannot afford to have a stomach ulcer.

Oh, fuck off.


I know I can be at fault. But you have to remember that you can be, too.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

I have a lot of secrets.

I made a secret blog a while back.
It's so secret, I can't remember the email I made for it. I can't remember the password to that email. I can't remember the password to the blog.
Waste of a good URL.
But I did find a blog I made two years ago on here that I don't use anymore. lawl.

Friday, December 11, 2009

The Giver: in photographs.


Save pleasefindthis! Please please vote for his blog here. He is thinking about stopping which is not cool. Please vote.

Thursday, December 10, 2009


I took that photo, btw. No photoshop, just a Nikon coolpix. This was when it snowed in Houston.

I am an idiot.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I set myself up for abandonment over and over again? Damnit.

Photo cred: J Bucio.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

I really did write this for you.

Dear Spouse,
I am wearing the sweats you gave me (sans pants + boots under them). They are vair comfy and soft. I am in love. I cannot thank you enough for them. I do not know what I am going to get you in return. I know a ticket to see New Moon again is not high on your list. I must ponder this for quite some time. Anyway, thank you again for the sweats. I love them.
Your spouse.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Uncalled for.

Don't ever fucking call me for that reason again.


Thursday, December 3, 2009

Hello, world. Hope you're listening.

I see you and then I don't. And I don't hear from you unless I reach out first. And then you reappear and expect me to be there, waiting for you.
I fucking wait for everyone. I shouldn't have to. Why the fuck should I have to wait for everyone? Why the fuck should I have to wait for you? People shouldn't have to wait for their friends.

Also. I don't name names on my blog unless it's something good or neutral. I have realized that I'm really good at not saying anything specific. If you read this blog and know me personally, and see some semblance in our relationship to what I write about, then maybe you should think about it. If you THINK that I am writing about you (whether I am at the time or not), you need to evaluate your own actions and fix whatever you think is wrong.
I'm not going to tell you. This blog is my way of telling you something is wrong or amiss. Fix it on your own.

Photo credit: Gwen Finnerin. I believe it's Yosemite National Park.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Another from pleasefindthis

"You wake up with a list of all the people you'd rather be. But you're already on everyone else's list."

I feel like Charlie.

"So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be."

Monday, November 30, 2009

This was a part of Rollercoasters.

But I'm posting it again, because I think Anne is the only exception. Switch out "Keltie" for "Morgan."

"I exist in this little bubble of Keltie, and if I chose not to reach out into the world for a few days, I am never surprised to not be contacted by anyone, I fly by without showing up on any persons radar. That is a terrible way to feel, and a terrible thing to realize: I literally do not matter to anyone."

All I say doesn't matter anyway.

I'd rather live alone than with you.

no, not you, anneka.

Scattered and Alignment

When you first started changing everything, I was shocked. Then happy, then annoyed, then content. And now I'm alone again. Everything's going to go back the way it was, only worse because I am alone to deal with her.

You just ruined everything again.

And now I have to readjust.


I am suddenly feeling sad again.

Edit. Keltie Colleen, get outta muh squishies:

There is a large part of me that is still very mad at the world because I do not understand why good people, like me, have to be lonely.

I watch all these people buzzing like bees around me in all the different areas of my life and everyone seems to be connected to something. I feel disconnected. I am just alone. Everything I am connected to is keltiemade by me and so really it is just a connection to myself. I exist in this little bubble of Keltie, and if I chose not to reach out into the world for a few days, I am never surprised to not be contacted by anyone, I fly by without showing up on any persons radar. That is a terrible way to feel, and a terrible thing to realize: I literally do not matter to anyone. I want to be happy for all the people I see, and know, who are in love, for everyone holding hands, for all the people that do not have be alone, wondering, like me, if they some how deserve this loneliness, if maybe god, or the universe never did really forgive me for my sins. It must be nice to wake up somewhere, and belong there and know that it is a forever situation, that your love you share with someone isn’t a trend or a time that will be replaced and forgotten at some point. That the person looking back at you sees you as their connection in life , that you are not an afterthought and never will be. That they are not thinking about the time when you wont be there, because you will always be there.

I want that. Please.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Things I'd love to say.

1. How can you expect anyone to know you when you don't even know yourself?

2. I try not to talk about you anymore.

3. This is me. I can't help it. This is me.

4. Why isn't anything freaking AWESOME yet? And I mean for more than just a day. Why can't I have an awesome year, when everything starts picking up and starts being right? Do I not deserve it yet? Do I need to have more shitty things happen to me in order for it to start getting good? I feel like this is unfair.

5. I think about you all the time but I don't say anything.

6. I get jealous.

7. You're slow.

8. Self absorbed.

9. Unnecessarily rude. What did she do to you? Oh, that's right. Nothing.

10. I haven't seen you in ages. I'm not sure how I'll feel when I DO see you. I'm not gonna lie, I avoided you a couple times. I wonder if my art is still there... The path to enlightenment is rocky. Rocky is not the path to enlightenment.

"I am fearless. This is my heart."

Time for something funny. Mean Girls, anyone?

Friday, November 20, 2009

Still trying to reach the future through the past

I sound bitter because I am.

I'm just quoting pleasefindthis all day today.

Don't be shy. You can take another piece of me. Everyone else already has.

Until there's nothing left. Until I disappear.

This is amazing.

via pleasefindthis

I love you. I love your eyes. I love your smell. I love your hair. I love your laugh. I love your skin. I love everything inside you. And I'll try to make all the parts that I find, happy.

Because you make me happy. So much.

I'd like that.

Other news, my belly and thighs need to stop growing. (Please don't tell me I'm not fat, I know I'm not, but I'm heavier than I've ever been and heavier than I ever want to be.) It's really time to kick myself into shape. I think I'll feel better overall if I do.

Monday, November 16, 2009

what the.

Take out the word "picture" and then that photo is just right.

You're lost on me.

Hello, this is my world.

"Being nice is one thing I suppose, being so nice that I allowed everyone to treat me like garbage was really nice for everyone else but me." - Keltie

Werd to yer mothaa.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Mulling it over.

I'm thinking of deleting you from my friend's list. I'm thinking about deleting you from my phone. It might be rash, but you don't try at all. And, you know, that's not okay anymore. Actually, it was never okay, but I put up with it because I love you.

All the wrong things on fire.

You don't even care anymore.

And I'm not going to lie; it makes me really sad.
You don't try hard enough for the people you say you care about the most.
I think you're a liar.

photo credit: I don't even know.

Fuck today.

Seriously. Fuck it.

1. We gave Beast away to CAP. Tara couldn't afford to keep him. Unfortunately, CAP euthanizes if they run out of space/the animal has heart worms or some other medical condition. I pray to God that Beast doesn't have heart worms and someone wanted a Beagle puppy this afternoon. He deserves a good home.

2. Apparently, on the way back from getting car insurance, I ran a red light in my mom's car while following her in my car. She drives like a fucking nutcase. So, now I owe her seventy-five bucks and I don't have a job. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

3. It's small, but the soap dispenser the brush attached to the sink to wash dishes is NOT doing it's job. The soap will not come out. It is full of dishwashing liquid. I do not understand. On top of that, the kitchen is a fucking mess. I am too exhausted to finish it.

4. One of my friends is really sucking right now. Like, really really sucking. They must be bipolar or something. Holy hell.

5. Lonely.


Christ O'Riley's trousers.

From Rockettes, Rockstars, + Rockbottom

Keltie Colleen wrote this for her book that's dropping next year (I think). It stuck a chord in me.

"No matter what I did or accomplished I had to fake self- esteem. I put it on in the morning along with my make-up. I forced myself to act strong, confident, and in control. I was none of the things. My heart and my head were constantly duking it out. Sometimes my guts would get involved. They could not agree on what I should be doing with my life, my career or my heart. I had built too much to stand around and watch it fall apart so I did what I always did, I smiled, I skipped and I sucked it up. I worked harder. I exhausted myself in every aspect of life, making it work. I refused to fail. I refused to ask for help. I refused to believe that I was anything special and instead worked overtime to create the image to anyone that might be looking in, that I was."

Photo credit: Gabriel Zalweski. (That's me in the photo, by the way. Rehearsing on stage. I miss the stage.)

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I cannot stop listening to this.

Keith Harkin from Celtic Thunder singing The Island.
1. This guy's a dreamboat.
2. His voice is fucking awesome.
3. This song is fucking awesome.

I watched Celtic Thunder, like, a year ago or so because it was on TV. My mom and I were pretty much drooling over this guy during this song. And yes, I like Celtic Thunder. Yes, I am a loser. No, I don't really care.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Sunday, November 8, 2009


So, time for a slew of memes, just because.

It all started with this photo:
No one knew what this guy was looking at, but they assumed he saw some girl's donk and was thinking, "Damn, check out DAT ASS." And then, these were born:

Dat crevasse tickled me the most because I would watch Man VS Wild and I always though Bear Grylls said "crevasse" really strangely. As well as "glacier." But, the fact that someone made DAT CREVASSE made me die laughing.

That is all.