Triumph

I recently had the oppurtunity to play Miles in chess thrice. Did I say play? I meant pwn. He came into the battle with his head held high, and left with the heads of all his pitiful peices in a cart. He came in three times, and died three times. Apparently our standards for greatness are not the same. Dad was right. Beating Miles was very fun.

The Meaning of Stretches

I now understand the meaning of stretches. As we were doing our pre-warmup warmup at swim practice (not 'practice' as in I cant swim but as in I'm on the team), my coach decided to skip stretches. Later on, a rock formed in my calf. A painful one. I could feel a rock hard lump in my calf. It still hurts. Later on, as we were playing water polo (not Marco Polo) and I was dueling with another swimmer for possession of the ball, my leg cramped up in the exact same fashion in the exact same spot, but on the left side. So then as I was leaving the pool I had to hobble. It hurt to even do that. So, now I know why we stretch. I am sorry if this post is not up to the standards of my writing, but I'm tired and in slight pain, and multitasking. If you want to, you can rant about the unfairness of it all the comments. Knock yourself out.

Miles:

I see this whole chess thing a win-win situation for me. If you are as good as you think you are, then I will have a new worthy opponent I can learn from. If you're not, it will still be fun kicking your trash all over the chessboard.

To Miles, Regarding Chess

I read your comment on "Chess" and must warn you, your plan will fail. If we ever happen to be able to play each other online, I will show you, but if not, I will spare you your pride until I move there, where the casualties of our battles shall be great. Prepare your mind for a stinging defeat, Miles. Strategy is one of my specialities. If you are a good as you think you are (I think I'm good too, however, we may just both, or one of us, be bluffing) then you will be a worthy opponent. But hopefully a vanquished one as well.

If your name is not Miles Robertson, you are not expected to comment on this post, but you may if you wish. You, Miles, are expected to, if not I will consider it as a surrender.

Spring Camparee

Yesterday and today (and tommorrow, but we left to day because we're not heathens who camp on Sunday) was the Spring Boy Scout Camparee. It was also my first camping trip with no blood relative. It was also the funnest Scout campout I've ever had. These things were not related. Neither was it fun because of the activities planned. But rather, it was fun because -you guessed it- a couple of Supernerds! I was wandering around the camping grounds last night looking for a friend of mine, when I saw people sword-fighting. As it turns out, their scoutmaster is a big nerd and had foam-padded swords of different kinds and they had brought them to fit in with the medieval theme.I wanted in, so I used my extremely aggresive way of getting in on things by standing around looking pitiful until they invited me in. Big mistake. Since I felt welcome, I came back today after realizing most of the planned activities were lame, and commenced sword-fighting. A crowd gathered. Eventually the sword-fighting grew more popular than everything planned. Some people thought it was planned. I heard a group of kids walk over, see the line, made a remark and then leave, thinking it was something that they could come back to. Eventually the crowd grew so large that we started cycling in people in pairs whenever somebody died. Everybody had 3 lives, but once you died once you had to wait in line again. On my first go through of the line I received a long-sword as my weapon and commenced ownage with my right hand. Then some idiot cut my arm off. Me still being alive, I switched arms and killed him. I then re-emerged into the fray fighting with my much less dominant left hand. My main strategy was to lure somebody in, then cut off their legs with my superior reach, then come in for the kill (or just walk away and let somebody else kill em). I would either do that or slash somebody across the back when they had their back to me (like when they were fighting someone else). My favorite kill was around when people started throwing themselves at me a second time, after standing in line again (I hadn't died all this time). A 14 year old was rushing at me, all like " I'm gonna kill you" and all. Me, not losing my cool, held my sword at arm's length and said "Come to me and die!" He did. He charged in, I chopped his legs off and followed up with a quick blow to the upper shoulder as soon as he hit the ground. With my left hand. I ended up coming in second, losing only to the 16 year old chief nerd (son of their scoutmaster), but it's okay that he's a nerd, as long as he's a butt-kicking medieval knight kind of nerd. I would like to add that I never died, even with my left hand, until it was one on one.  This was due to the fact that we made an agreement to kill everyone else so we could fight one-on-one. And we did kill everyone else. Three times.

A Story

Recently I began a story. Here it is.

I opened my eyes and looked across the road to my younger brother James, who was attempting to light a fire to cook our breakfast. James and I had been fascinated by the songs of the bards that spoke of great heroes performing noble deeds that we decided to leave home in search of adventure of our own. That was 2 months ago. Since then, many times have I wondered if it was a wise decision to have a couple 19 and 17 year-olds wandering around the dangerous country of Aladaria on their own with nothing but the clothes on their backs, their amateur fighting skills, and the slightly rusted weapons that they called their own. James specialized in the uses of dual daggers and throwing knives, while my weapon of choice is the sword, but I can handle myself with a bow as well. I had thought about the choice we had made to leave home, and decided it was best that we return and accept that nothing was in store for us except the boring life of a couple of farmer’s sons.

I stood up and wandered over to the new fire that was beginning to rise from the ashes of last night’s. It’s time to tell him my intentions, but I don’t think he’ll handle them well, I thought. James was an ambitious fellow that never bored of our endless wandering, even if they never resulted in anything happening. He could be annoying at times with his optimism, but he has good intent. James had noticed my gloomy look. “What’s up, Jack? It looks like something’s bothering you, and don’t tell me it’s just lack of sleep, because I heard you snore all night.”
Oh drat, now I’ve got to tell him. I thought. I decided to break it to him as bluntly as possible. “Well Jack, I’ve done some thinking, and I think it’s time we return home.”
“Wh-wha-what? We can’t go back now! The adventure is just about to begin.” James recoiled in horror at my remark.
“Yes, we can, and apparently no adventure is fated to come our way.” I said, a bit taken aback by James’ sudden decision to rebel against one of my decisions. James may be an ambitious, spirited fellow, but he certainly knows better than to go against me, and he had demonstrated it on multiple occasions.
“Yes, it is.” James insisted, pointing up the road. I looked, and saw an orc party that was making a quick march toward us. I would have been worried, but luckily, orcs have inferior eyesight in the sunlight, so I knew they couldn’t have seen us.
“Quick, get behind a tree and we’ll jump these disgusting greenskins,” I instructed.
“Now you’re talking,” James said in satisfaction as he obeyed my command.

Should I continue with it?

What I Think People Think of Me

I was doing some pondering in school today, and while listening to the conversations of my classmates (about me, in part) I stumbled upon a nugget of knowledge I was unaware of before. I have realized that people in one area of my life think much differently than people in another do. I wondered why this would be and came up with answers that I will now share with you.

In my school class: The majority of the people in my class think of me as a serious-all-the-time, knows-everything-and-rubs-it-in-your-face kinda guy (keariifykg), no matter how untrue and unfair that might be. I think that they came to this conclusion based on the fact that whenever I am in the 'cool' crowd (by their choice, not mine) in my class whatever they are saying is either perverted or swear-word ridden, or both. Because of this I try to distance my self and end up being grave faced. To explain the keariiyfkg-ness, its just that I am smart, and when people are discussing their grade on a certain test or assignment you are expected to say your own, and saying 100% constantly makes people think that. Also, I read a lot.

In QUEST: In QUEST, I am funny, so people generally think of me as the wierd and funny, smart guy that I am. I think this is because in QUEST you have the smartest kids in the school, and they generally don't swear or be perverted. And so, with the trying-to-distance-myself stripped away, my true self emerges.

At Church: I'm not sure, probably the same thing as above for the most part, minus the 'smartest kids in school' and replace it with 'kids with the highest moral standards'. Oh, and replace 'QUEST' with Church.

At the Rolla Fins (my swim team): I have no idea what the ones that have no other involvement with me think of me.

On my blog: Once again, no idea. But YOU have and idea of what you think of me, don't you? If you don't mind, let me know with a comment.

My teachers: I believe the majority of my teachers just think of me as the mild-mannered, polite kid that turns in his work on time, all the time and gets good grades. Is that right, Mr. Wright?

There it is. What I think people think of me. The end.