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."