Art by MeddygonThere is a fine line \ Between genius and madness. \ It is called timing.

http://soap.schroe.org/cg/Amanda%20-%20Spectre%20Uniform.jpg WORK OF ART YAY

Just so I don’t forget to tell the joke when it’s appropriate:

My New Year’s Resolution is 1280×1024.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I never cried for anything like this before …

Well fuck that. Music recylery isn’t buying/trading right now.

http://www.google.com/press/zeitgeist.html :o

#11 Rantt Ô_õ 11/19

I had this one planned for a while, but I never got around to drawing it. The content may or may not be humorous now, depending on your understanding of the situation.
Allow me to assist. The Sim in the red shirt represents my math teacher who looks surprisingly similar, both in face and dress. The female Sim he is speaking to is supposed to be me, even though I look nothing like that, and would never be caught dead in that color of sweater.

This is an actual conversation, wherein he was attempting to show the other students how easy it is to break down a number into its prime factors.

After Jorenko and I had finished watching some ReBoot episodes, I hit play on Winamp. The song was “Yoko Kanno – Adieu” from Cowboy Bebop.

Long distance relationships suck.

He never sees it, but I cry every time I have to say goodbye.

I don’t know what to hate myself more for: Falling in love and moving away, or making him fall in love with me and moving away.

It’s kinda hard to beleive that we’ve been together over a year already, and that most of that has been 250 miles apart.

Life both sucks and rules.

I had a dream that I lived in a three bedroom appartment with a bunch of people with “problems.”

The appartment was actually owned by a rather rude gay couple, who liked to rub it in people’s faces that they were only in this appartment because of their “kindness.” They stayed in the larger room, and had a kitchenette of their own.

One of the other rooms was occupied by a young man and his younger sister who had run away from an abusive home. The young man was around 18, while the girl was around 8.

I was granted the largest room in there because I needed the largest space. I had two children, twins.

Red is the gay couple’s room. Green is the young man’s room. Blue is my room. Yellow is the bathrooms. Cyan is the kitchens. Magenta is living room/loung areas.

My children, one male, one female, named Brendon and Melissa, dressed and blue and purple, went with me everywhere. (This is the only similarities with Home Movies that you’ll see.) Melissa had earned the nickname “Noah” from Dennis. I don’t know why, but whenever he saw her, he’d call her “Noah,” and make comments about Noah’s ark and such. Many people ignored Brendon, and often forgot his name, just calling him anything that started with a B.

I took very good care of my children. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I hated it when my family (not immediate family) came to visit, though. They would always bother me about the obvious, and offer advice on how to raise kids.

One day, the gay couple kidnaps Brendon to torture me. I’m looking all over for him – I check the young man’s room. I wake up his little sister, so I get her a glass of water when she asks for it. The water barely runs from the kitchen faucet, so it took a while. After I put her back to bed, I knock on the gay couple’s door.

They answer, both of them are bleach blonde, one with bishie-short hair, the other with a crew cut. The evade my questions, and giggle slightly. One had been on the computer at ebay.

I return to my room and start searching on ebay. I find a listing for a 3 month old child (Brendon). The seller name is one of the gay men. I storm in and grab my child back from them – they had him on a small matress in their lounge.

A few days or a few months, I couldn’t tell, later, I took the kids to watch the little league game of the little girl’s. Dennis was still calling Melissa “Noah” and he loved making my kids laugh. He was being like a grandpa to them. I asked him to watch my kids while I ran off to the port-a-loo, and when I returned, the kids were not there, not even their carriers, strollers, or bags. Dennis wasn’t there, either, and the others from the appartment had left.

I looked all over the park for them, and couldn’t find them, so I took a bus home.

Back at the appartment, it was silence. The young man and his sister were not home. I knocked on the door to the silent lounge beyond it, where the gay couple stayed. They didn’t answer, so I barged in. They were on the couch, making out, and my children were not in sight. I searched all over their room, their bathroom, everything. No sign of the twins.

I was more shocked and confused than worried.

[01:17] * Schroe laughs so hard from tickling Ettin that she falls over laughing.
[01:21] * Ettin raises the couch and climbs out
[01:21] * Schroe falls unconscious
[01:21] * Ettin sits on the couch and sleeps
[01:21] * Schroe vows to give Ettin a serious ass-pounding when she comes to.
[01:22] * Ettin is now wearing metal underpants

https://vectorpark.itch.io/levers FUN!

[23:45] [Schroe> Wait a sec …
[23:46] [Schroe> is the @ …
[23:46] [Schroe> … and OPpendage?

I had never met anyone who truly spoke before thinking until I met Maria.

schroe is a dimensional traveler and owner/ leader of the corkie commune
schroe is reached
schroe is a big collection of
schroe is the new site maintainer mentioned in the latest what’s new
schroe is going have to delete one of these posts
schroe is my friend

amanda is
amanda is ready and waiting for
amanda is pretty or

amanda schroeder is glad to take advantage of the uhsc for many reasons

I had a dream about Dennis’ – I was playing a pinball game right by the door. I was doing so well on it that it was like, “Why am I even playing? I don’t even like the cheering.” Yes, people were watching and congratulating me on a game well played.

Dennis then came in with his brother. (He doesn’t have a brother in real life, not that I know of at least.) I’m ushered over to the dancing games, because that’s what I’m supposed to be playing.

I passed up the PIU machine for the flashier display next to it – Technomotion. The deal with this setup was amazing. You selected songs by physically walking through a display of hanging banners, grabbing the banner you wanted, and taking it to the DJ.

Someone picked a song for me; It was something I’d never heard of. The song started, and I got a glimpse of the board on a huge screen – this game was so intricate that you not only had to hit the step, you had to hit it on the correct sensor.

After the kid who challenged me and I finish the song, both passing, I with a higher grade, I ask him what level that was. “Oh, six or seven.”

I leave to look for the next song, and, while browsing, I see Traci D. (Strangely, she did not say “I know!” through the entire thing.) She and I caught up on the details of life. I showed her my “replacement Squee” which was some guy I was hanging out with. RS and I walk TD to the back door, where little Dennis lets her out. The back room that leads out was also a lift, which kinda freaked me out.

Back to the game now, someone stole my song. I wait for the next one, and I ask someone to grab one for me. While someone was browsing through, they hit the sample button for a song. I heard it and looked at the vid screen, where it was showing parts of the video.

The song was Subsonic Digital Electronics by Bass 305 (Though it was called Digital Bass in the dream) and the video was … Reboot. I scream at them to start the song, I want to dance to this.

They grab something else, time expires, and someone else takes my dance. I boo her off the stage in the middle of the song, then walk off.

“Hey, girl, you got the money you owe me?” says Maria.

“…” I reply. “You still owe me for the phone bill.”

“What?!”

Gash: If you want to get down to it, our perception of reality is only a series of electrical impressions interpreted by our brain, so how do you know what you are seeing, smelling, tasting, feeling and hearing is actually what is there? Kind of mind-boggling, don’t you think?

Yengwa: No, not really. All of your arguments always come down to that same damn line from the Matrix. It’s not like you suddenly had a revelation and came up with it yourself. Besides, if what is real is defined by our brains, then how do we know our brains are real?

Read the rest of this entry…

Five minutes after she and I were discussing something, she goes on about it again. After about two minutes of listening to her talk rather loudly about the girl in the next room, I say to her, “Okay, we stopped talking about this five minutes ago.”

“There’s not need to be so rude, you brought it up!” (which it did, now seven minutes prior.)

“And we’ve already said all we’re going to say on the matter.”

“It’s not big deal” blah, blah, etc.

*shush noises*

“Oh don’t you shush me, you brought it up.”

“And now I’m trying to END it.”

I am promised by the school to get my financial aid reimbursement check tomorrow. I can’t be 100% certain on this, even if they did put up a sign outside their door about it, because they were 100% certain I’d get it the second week of school. This is the 6th week.

On the off chance I do not get my money, I finally got my PIN for my Visa to use it as a cash card. I must use this sparingly, though, as my parents are the ones who pay off the card.

fight of the century

Grand. Someone just called for Lametria Scott.

“She doesn’t live here anymore.”

Which is true. So no one should be calling her here, ever. Right?

Well, she’s been using my phone without me knowing, as Maria told me a while ago. I really didn’t care, because it very easily could have just been Maria trying to get me to take sides. Now I have a little bit of proof.

Ashley’s already told me that she doesn’t use the phone at all, as she has her own cell phone. Good. Then she won’t mind me taking the phone with me to school. Maria doesn’t use the phone, either, except when she NEEDS to talk to her mother. She’s going to her mother’s house later today, so she won’t be needing the phone.

I said to Ashley a while ago: “Your friends do not live here, they should not be using the phone.” That didn’t mean anything to her other than she has to hide it from me now.

Lametria’s got her own cell phone, she doesn’t need to be using my house-line. She doesn’t even need to be coming to my apartment. I swear, next time she is at the door, wanting to bitch at me about something, I’m just shutting it in her face.

She often feels the need to come and complain about something. Apparently, placing her junk mail (100% third class mail) in front of her mailbox is wrong, and she would “ah-PREE-shate” it if I didn’t do that. She’d also prefer that, instead of telling her friends to stop calling here, I instead pass the messages on to her.

She moved out a month ago, folks. She also agreed to not give out my phone number to her friends, because she had a cell phone.

Then she has the nerve to call my friends ghetto when she can’t even spell it.

It’s funny how, whenever I say something to Maria along the lines of, “You shouldn’t skip school,” or “You shouldn’t waste your money on taxis,” she always says, “Hahha, you sound just like my mother.” Mom’s can’t possibly have good advice, can they now.

I really fucking hate it when someone tells me “news” that they heard, and they heard it from me last week.

And they pass it off as they’re the ones who told me.

I really hate Maria’s use of the term “chinky” to describe Asians.

She said she was going to bed twelve minutes ago.

She talked for ten. She’s finally turned off the light.

Now she’s muttering to herself VERY LOUDLY. “oh gawd, it’s so hawt” etc.

Maria just came into our room to tell me that she heard Ashely making noises, and assumes she was masturbating. Maria described it first at “choking and gagging noises” so I assumed Ashley was puking. Then Maria said, “No, it was moaning! She was on the phone, too!”
WHO THE FUCK CARES?!

She went on to explain how stupid she felt because, here she was, worried that Ashley might be choking, and she was just “doing her own thing.” Repeat this three times in different ways, and you’ve got the “conversation.” Then she decides to tell me that she doesn’t masturbate anymore.

No sex, no masturbation, no brain. Poor girl.