Precalculus is killing me, I am going to have to retake it next semester, and I was thinking about changing my major before I lost too much credit, and everytime I consulted my parents they would either throw fits like, "Goddamn!" and throw shit, or would tell me I should just get a job digging ditches because every major in college requires precalc. And my father being the asshole that he is tells me that I should be thrown in remedial math. I don't feel like taking that, even though I do have disadvantages in math such as being pulled out of math class to go to counseling and missing the lesson as a result of that. And upon that, everything has gotten harder in my computer programming class (Computer Science major). It is really starting to hit me hard, and I don't think I will be able to handle the real world, let alone precalc and calculus. IF I make too low of a grade, I lose my financial aid, my TOPS, and my other scholarships and grants. I don't know what to do. If I had the choice, I wouldn't be here. College is too hard for me, but it's too late now, because I have already withdrawn too much money to just drop out and start digging ditches. You ever just wish there was an off button to life? I do. Just makes me wonder my purpose here. I feel like I serve no purpose at all, and that I don't belong here. I'm just saying, there are other people, normal people, who seem to understand this stuff better than me. I'm pretty sure though that if I weren't to be in college, after what all has happened to me and the problems I have been diagnosed with, I would be in a straight-jacket in some mental hospital for my own safety and for the safety of others. I think I'm fighting a losing battle with this one, guys. And you know what they say about losing battles.
It was about 45 minutes ago, my drunk bastard of a dad just walks in, starts calling my mom a bitch, arguing with her etc.. I couldn't sleep, so I walk out of my bedroom, trying to solve the conflict. He calls me fatboy, or fat fucker, I don't quite remember, but the argument keeps going on, he eventually says, "You better get out before I fucking kill you." I tell him, "Do it, you bastard!" argument keeps going on. He gets even more angry, so he calls mom a bitch again. I tell him to quit calling her that, he says, "Fuck you fatboy." I get really pissed off, (he mentally abused me by calling me fat and mentally retarded), so I pull him out of the chair, and he lands on his ass. After that he gets up and says "Boy, I'm gonna fucking kill you!" I tell him to bring it on. The bastard is so drunk he can't even walk right. He stumbles to me, punches me in the eye and on the top of my head. He had a fault there, so I unload on him (to tell the truth, I can't punch really hard) a series of punches and then just lean on him. He hits the ground, and I land on him. He couldn't do anything but grab my hair. I had 3 options: wail on him, punch him in the balls, or just lay on him. I chose the third because he probably wouldn't feel the first 2. He was screwed after I landed on him. I landed right on his chest, and he couldn't do anything. I just unleashed a bunch of my anger into him, (over 10 years of mental and physical abuse), and he couldn't do anything. Boy, he sure did fucking kill me!
My brother's future wife had cleaned out her old house, and she asked me did I want two guitars and an amp, that her previous husband played before he got sick and passed away. She told me one was electric and one was acoustic. I immediately said yes, so she went to go get them for me, and brought me back:
A 1993 Ibanez PF5 acoustic. Good looking, and manufactured in the month of February, the month of my birthday.
A souped up starcaster by fender starcaster strat, black, with all chrome hardware, a blue tortoiseshell pickgaurd, and chrome knobs as well as a chrome p-ups and a p-up selector cover.
A fender SP 10 22 watt amp. Amazing little amp that packs quite a punch.
Two stands, both better than the two first act stands I have. first being a fender tripod style stand that folds up and compacts, the next being what looks like a high quality padded stand with a built-in neckholder.
each guitar came with a strap, one strap just a plain-Jane black strap, and the other being a leather strap with a wizard on it.
She also gave me a cable, looks about like 25-30 feet long don't know the brand, but it doesn't look cheap.
She gave me a gripmaster hand trainer as well.
And to finalize it she gave me two gig bags, one having picks and a nine volt battery inside it along with the whammy bar for the starcaster, and the other being a heavily padded dreadnought bag.
She told me everything was around a 600 dollar investment.
About a few weeks ago, I got an idea to build me a viola bass from scratch. I have gotten it cut into the shape I wanted, and it looks nice, but all I have is a picture of the slab, and the shape. and from the other day, here is the screwed up page.
What in bloody hell is going on? This is really sc
I'm serious, I get on my profile and my pic is gone. and my status comments are gone, and it says that the last time i was online was in 1970, 40 friggin years ago. I'm only 18. please tell me ug is having some form of difficulties
If i can find a good image host, i will put up the picture.
Current mood: flat out pissed off enough to kill something
I'm doing one of the abbey road challenges, and I five star every song on hard drums except "Good Morning" I get so close to the fifth star (like one more damn note, and the song finishes, and then the damn thing tells me I need 30 stars in order to get the beatles photo. I mean come on, that is rediculous. I swear, why wouldn't 25/30 be ok, let alone 29/30.
Other than the fact that I'm pissed off, Beatles Rock Band is really fun, and I would recommend getting it,(I only paid 20 bucks at old navy.)
Don't get me wrong, I like rock band, but when you have to hit a 20-30 snare run, that is bullshit.
Here's what harmonix was probably thinking
(Oh, let's piss of the gamer by giving him 5 songs he could 5-star on easy, and then piss him off by making the last song be almost impossible to 5-star unless you do a hell of a lot of drugs. and then piss him off even more by making the damn photo require 30 stars on the challenge)
30 stars huh, I'll give you 30 percent of my foot in your ass.
screw you, harmonix.