I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOUR ACCENT

For some reason, I have an extremely hard time understanding people who don't have American accents. It can be really embarrassing at times.

I try to avoid places like Cafe Rio. Because this happens almost every time I go there.

You'd think I'd learn. But nope. And then this happens.

They start conversing and laughing. I stand there smiling like an idiot because I have absolutely no idea what they're talking about. 

The End

Week of Death (AKA finals)

Once you hit college, there is one thing that will make you wish you had never been born. This thing is called finals week.

I never realized just how terrible it would be. Especially if you're someone like me, who didn't do any work whatsoever during the entire semester, and then found out that the exam is comprehensive and covers everything you were supposed to learn in the past three months.

To my dismay, I realized that most exams were based on the textbook that we were supposed to be reading gradually throughout the semester.

2 hours and one fourth of the book later, it stops making sense. The words become a jumbled mess as they try to enter my over-stuffed brain. 

Frustrated, I give up and try to go study in the library. Which looks like a war zone.

Finally, you hit a point where your brain can't take any more studying. You make your way to the testing center, along with the other hordes of zombie-like students.  Your head feels like it grew five sizes and is so overstuffed it could explode at any second. All of the information that has entered in the last few hours slowly leaks out as you take the test. 

The poor unsuspecting high school students don't know what's going on. Facebook is overfilled with status updates about the horror of finals week.

Finally, finals week ends. Throughout the week, everyone has one plan for the weekend. 

However, our brains have been filled and dumped so many times recently, they cease to function. The plans for the weekend turn into a little something like this.

The End. 

It's raining money!

This is you. (I know, it's an eerily accurate depiction.)

(Pay no attention to the cat. I'm not really sure why I drew that...)

Well, my friend, then this will happen.

*disclaimer* Following my blog will not actually increase the chances that money will rain from the sky.  However, it will make me feel better, and increase the amount of cartoons! As of now, I have five followers, and I feel a little depressed about it. So, if you like my blog, please please please please follow it! 

THE END

School and Things

Sometimes, I have random panic attacks. They usually pertain to due dates I'm about to miss, friends birthdays that I've missed, or other important events.

This is how it will usually occur.

Last week, I actually remembered that the paper was due earlier in the day. I figured I had plenty of time, so I'd get some other things done first...

Finally, I began the paper around midnight.

I finished, and went to bed feeling pretty good about myself.

The boy I sit next to was eyeing my paper, looking confused. Finally, he leaned over. 

So, I stayed up til 3 for nothing.

THE END

*While working on this, Holly and Micah decided to try out my Bamboo Tablet. I thought their work was worth showcasing.*

When I get bored, I like to play with Photoshop

How I Predict the Weather

I always know when it's going to rain. How, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. Let me begin by showing you what my hair usually looks like.

Sometimes, I get up the nerve to attack the jungle with a straightener. 

I excitedly go outside to show off my straight mane to the world.

You'll never guess what happens next.

It rains. And, my hair returns to it's former glory.

This happens. Every time. Without fail. It also usually rains the day after I wash my car.

The End.

No Cut Man

Last week, my sisters, mom, and I went to a Taylor Swift concert. It was a great experience apart from one teensy incident.

Luckily, we had arrived at the concert early, because there were hordes of people EVERYWHERE. We wanted to get Taylor Swift T-shirts, so we made our way to the back of the line. It looked like this.

Except longer. Finally, we neared the front of the line. Let me add that almost everyone around me was a ten year old girl.

There was a man in the sea of girls, and all of a sudden he decided to make a scene. I have no idea what compelled him to do so.

The ten year olds and I were a little confused by his sudden outburst. The line was crowded and jumbled but we were all patiently and excitedly waiting for our shirts.

All of a sudden, the man singled me out.

I have no idea why he chose to direct his fury at me.

I tried to reason with the man. But he just kept getting louder and angrier. More people were beginning to notice.

Confused and a little frightened, I let the scary man go in front of me. I then got my shirt and went on to enjoy the concert. I almost feel bad for this guy, though. I picture him going for life permanently angry and scary to people around him.

Mr. No Cut Man, please stop being so mean. That is no way to live, my friend.


The End