Saturday, December 22, 2012

Ani Fucking Difranco, that's who.

    So... I've never been one of those, "Oh my gawd, Becky... this is song is about my life!" But with the discovery of Ani Difranco I've become one of those people. Her lyrics are incredible, perhaps some of the best I've ever heard (and I listen to almost all of the great songwriters!). So instead of rambling on (lolz) I'll let her words speak for themselves:

"Everyone has a skeleton and a closet to keep it in, and your mine. Every song has a you, a you that the singer sings to."
"You are so lame. You always disappoint me... it's kind of like our running joke, but it's really not funny. And I just want you to live up to the image of you I create, I see you and I'm so unsatisfied, I see you and I dilate."
"When I say you sucked my brain out, the English translation is: 'I am in love with you' ... and it's no fun. But I don't use words like love, 'cuz words like that don't matter. But don't look so offended... you know, you should be flattered!" - Dilate

"Think I'm going for a walk now, I feel a little unsteady. Don't want no one to follow me... except maybe you." 
"Tell you the truth, I prefer the worst of you. Too bad you had to have a better half... and she's not really my type, but I think you two are forever, and I hate to say it... but you're perfect together."
"So fuck you and your untouchable face. Fuck you for existing in the first place. And who am I that I should be vying for your touch, and who am I? I bet you can't even tell me that much." - Untouchable Face

"I fight with love and I laugh with rage. You gotta live light enough to see the humor, and long enough to see some change."
"I think pretty is nice, but I rather see something new."
"Who ya gonna be if you can't be yourself? You can't get it from TV, you can't force it on anybody else."     - Pick Yer Nose 

"Squint your eyes and look closer 
I'm not between you and your ambition 
I am a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavors and then some 
And I'm beyond your peripheral vision so you might want to turn your head 
'Cause someday you're going to get hungry and eat all of the words that you just said 
I am what I am, I am 32 flavors and then some 
God help you if you are an ugly girl
Course too pretty is also your doom 
'Cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room 
God help you if you are a phoenix and you dare to rise up from ash 
A thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy while you are just flying past 
I am what i am, I am 32 flavors and then some 
I'm taking my chances as they come 
I am 32 flavors and then some, I'm nobody but I am someone, someone... "
- 32 Flavors 

Friday, December 7, 2012

A Letter Home

Dear Houston,  
   It's not you. It's me. You're great, you really are... but you just aren't giving me what I need anymore. You have had over 16 years and STILL you've failed to produce Jacob with his basic necessities: A boy who is Scottish/named James (I'm really not picky anymore), a six pack, a letter to Hogwarts, and a voice like Nina Simone. On a scale from 1 to 10, you're chillaxing around a 4. But wait! There's still time. (A year and half to be precise.) You better step up your game, because lemme tell ya... Prague is looking real good right about now. Granted, I don't speak Czechoslovakian, so I'll just have to communicate my desire for one night stands through my eyes and excessive eyebrow raising.
   It's not too late to turn this beat around, H-Town... step it up, brah.

Your forever faithful (unless I get a boyfriend, then I'll ditch this blog joint) blogster, Jacob. 

 

Monday, November 26, 2012

Haters Gonna Hate; Fabric Gonna Fabricate

    To say the last few weeks (months really) have been trying would be a understatement...  Between school,  people showing their true but not so pretty colors, and one hell of a hostile environment  it has taken every ounce of my strength to not eat everyone alive. But alas! Adorning this pile of shit there is a silver lining:
    
    Despite the odds and the constant belittlement, somehow my passion for theatre has managed to grow. I have been beaten down, scrutinized, been involved with something I absolutely loathed, and made to feel as though I am talentless and worthless. But through this, I am now more sure than ever that I have something to offer. Perhaps the hate I received was fuel to the fire. I'll be damned if I don't make something of myself. 
    
    Also, I have never been more thankful for my friends, old and new. Thanks to their reassurance that my feelings are not unwarranted (even those perceived as "golden" have privately told me I'm not insane), and that nearly everyone in my life has backed me up (even if just in private), I have been able to barrel through these past few weeks. 
    
    A lot has changed these past few weeks; and quite frankly, it's been hell.  But it's okay. I've screamed hard, but laughed even harder. No matter the circumstances and what people try to make you believe, only you know the facts. Take him or leave him, but: 

Jacob Seferian is a good person. He is smart, funny, talented, caring, loyal, insane, attractive, and interesting. He may be too loud and not give two shits about certain things, but overall, he's kind of badass. He has a long life ahead of him. A life full of hot men, shitloads of happiness, and crazy ass memories. So he says the world: Bring it. 
 
   So remember, people of the world... haters gonna hate, fabric gonna fabricate. 


Your regret-free blogster, Jacob. 



Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Word Vomit of Word Vomits

    In a weird place. Somewhere between not giving two shits and giving too much shits. But it's all good, because no matter how hellish my weeks are, my weekends are incredible. Halloween is coming! I'll hide under my burlap costume and go to an Alanis Morissette concert and feel like an angsty 90's teen. Can't say I'm not feeling alive. Part of me wishes high school would just go away and let college start so I can figure out what the hell I'm going to do with my life. Too deep? That's okay, I'm usually not so self-indulgent so it evens out. Digging the lack of flow in this paragraph; each sentence is a new thought. SEMICOLON ALERT. Clearly all these grammar classes are getting to me.
   
    Sorry. Apparently junior year has not only taken my sanity, but my coherence as well. Bye bye eloquence (well... preconceived eloquence)... okay, now I'm just using pretty words. Jeez. Get over yourself, Jacob.
   
    I am tired. Always.
 
    Pretty people all up in my face, and I'm all like, "BACK IT UP, HOLMES! No one likes uber attractive people. That's a misconception. Go procreate with other pretty peeps."
   
    Math is cockblocking me. Ain't no one got time for this Pre-AP shiz. (Why am I so cool? Rhetorical question. Don't answer, not even silently in your mind.)
   
    Been told what a fantastic boyfriend I'd be by two boys. Like what? Who does that? Bizarre. My favorite was how one said, "Like imma be real, Jacob. You're not a 10... but your personality is like a 40. I mean, I'd chase after you for years." Over all a very wonderful compliment, but the human in me focused on the negative and only heard: 'your not a 10.' But it's okay. Because I'm fuckable. And that's all you need to be. (Or not. Ruh-roh. Pity party over hurr (just said 'hurr', I think I've reached a new low... (sidenote: this is a parentheses within a parentheses within a parentheses, parentheCEPTION!!!!!! Boom. Mind = blown.))
   
    Now I'm just rambling, I mean, that NEVER happens. I'm confused... are you confused?
   
    I should read my assigned reading. I should finish my costume. I should eat less. I should exercise more. I should stop blowing my voice out, and start blowing other things. I should sort out all the shit going on. I should proof read this post. But honestly I don't know if I want to...
I should sleep. Yes. Sleep. Sleep is good.
    Nice chat. ~Jacob out~


Your delirious blogster, Jacob.
  

Sunday, October 7, 2012

    I want to run away to a new place. These peeps and this life are boring. Deuces.


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

A Summer State of Mind

    I don't want to. You can't make me. I'll burrow under my covers and use my cats as bodyguards. I will not emerge unless James McAvoy is before me with a platter of potatoes. Summer can suck my... thumb!

   I'm sorry, I am not excited to return to school. I'm perfectly content with my summer of:

Sitting on my ass, watching French movies, crying because I'll never be as pretty or as talented as them, eating a lot, feeling guilty so I go wogging (a combination of walking and jogging, I know, it's brilliant, I expect my Pulitzer to be arriving shortly, I'm sure it just got lost in the mail), dancing madly in my room, harassing my cats, eating some more, jiggling my fat in the mirror, crying because there's so much to jiggle, reading Harry Potter, watching Harry Potter, pretending I'm Harry Potter, going to sleep, and waking up and doing it all again.

    After all these life enhancing activities what could school possibly have to offer me?


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

You Should Like Your Face: A Pep Talk

    From the moment we hit puberty we are plagued with self-doubt. Looking in the mirror, and immediately reciting a laundry list of our own flaws. Everything about us is wrong, and we whine to the universe, if only I was a different way, everything would be better... right?    
  
    Then hopefully (and I do mean hopefully, because countless amounts of people go throughout life never experiencing this moment of discovery), you'll have an epiphany. You'll realize that although you don't look like a Heidi Klum or a George Clooney, neither Heidi Klum nor George Clooney looks like you. You return to that cursed mirror and take a long, hard look at yourself. You shrug and think, I can work with this.
    
    Now mind you, I am not promoting vanity. You should take pride in your appearance, but don't think you're the end all and be all of beauty. Because trust me, if there's one thing you can count on in the unforgiving world, it is that there will always be someone more attractive than you.
    
    Say you don't have an eureka moment, and you are still not overjoyed with your exterior, remember that your inside plays a big part as well. We've all had the experience of meeting someone who, initially, we did not find very attractive (it's not bitchy, it's natural), but then after getting to know them, who knows? We may even consider marrying them and moving to one of those middle states whose names we always forget.
    Intelligence, for example. Personally, I find intelligence one of the biggest turn ons. ("What's that? You want to tell me your opinion on the current financial crisis in Greece and Spain, and the steps the EU has taken to remedy the issue? Cool. Mind if I mount you while you're doing this?) So if you're intelligent: BOOM. There you go. Immediately more attractive. Woohoo!
   
    Still haven't convinced yourself? Well, I'm a strong believe in the power of a smile. When someone gives a wide, toothy (yes, TOOTHY, no smiling without your teeth, that makes you look disturbed) grin, I can't help but feel attracted to them. When in doubt: smile. Because everyone's smile is beautiful.
    
    I like my face, and you should like yours too.

    Voila! That was my pep talk. Now go forth, young grasshopper with that likeable face, flourish and have sex with the world. Just remember that no one's smile lines or forehead crinkles are exactly like yours (besides those of your doppelganger), so own them.



Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Friday, June 15, 2012

The Lost Medium of Writing

    Writers are often overlooked. I constantly hear, "That book was AMAZING," and they'll go on a tangent praising the book, never once mentioning the author, acting as if it wrote itself.    
    Maybe it's because, technically, almost everyone can write. We all learn how to write at a young age, so thereby we write off (pun intended) authors as nothing special. "So what if they can "write"? So can I." Versus musicians or artists, where not everyone can do what they do, so they are therefore exalted.
   
    The world takes writers for granted. They always expect there to be a morning newspaper, but never stop to think about who writes it. But if you actually try to write, you'll realize just how hard writing truly is. If a book makes you cry, or for that matter, feel anything at all, the author is to be applauded. Instead, they're forgotten.
   
    Now, not all writers go unsung. Singer-songwriters receive universal acclaim for their lyrics. This is most likely because people are hearing the words aloud, which is not the case with books or magazines, so they are unable to ignore them.

    So, I ask: Why shouldn't writers be the rock stars of our time? Why do singers, musicians, dancers, and artists get all the glory? Show them writers a bit of love.


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Crank Dat Shiz Up, Homie, Iz About To Go DOWNNNN!!! (Vulgar Post #2)

  I may be falling back into an old pattern (ew, personal, get away! Just say something slightly amusing!). So instead of elaborating further on this matter, I've decided to switch topics suddenly. VIRGINITY!! What song do you want to be playing the background when you lose it?
         *DISCLAIMER: I am aware that there is a 95% chance that no music will be playing the background when we forsake our innocence... but isn't it fun to ponder?*

 The songs I wouldn't mind playing from the stereo as two awkward bodies rub together (in no particular order):

1.) Joan Jett - "Do You Wanna Touch Me?" : Why the hell not? It's perfect. Lyrics: "Talking is fine, if you got the time, but I ain't got the time to spare." Preach, Joan Jett, preach!

2.) Nina Simone - "Wild is the Wind" : Don't judge me. I know this is weird. But it's so freakishly romantic, and Nina's voice gives me goosebumps (her low notes make me orgasm alone, there, why not make it easier on the fella crazy enough to take me to bed?). The song is breath-taking with its sweeping piano and Nina's vocals. I may not be able to have this playing for my first time, but I am most definitely playing this while I'm in bed with a lover. 

3.) Amy Winehouse - "Amy Amy Amy" : Sorry, Ms. Oden, I know this is kinda your theme song, but it won't be for long if I lose my virginity to it. MUWHAHAHAHA!!! The lyrics, plain and simple, are just sexy.

4.) Florence + The Machine - "Leave My Body" : Honestly, I'm not 100% sure this song is about sex, but lyrics like, "I'm gonna leave my body, I'm gonna lose my mind" are definitely how I want to describe my first sexual encounter. (Unfortunately, I have a sinking feeling I will most likely be quoting Lily Allen's "Not Fair" my first time 'round: "You're supposed to care, but you never make me scream.")

The Back-Ups (Songs I Will Begrudging Lose My Virginity To):

Kelly Rowland - "Motivation"
Ciara - "Ride"
Rihanna - "Shut Up and Drive"
Mariah Carey - "Touch My Body"
Sir Mix-A-Lot - "Baby Got Back"
Who cares who made it - "Wobble"


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

I want...

I want... to slow-dance to Billie Holiday with someone who knows who Billie Holiday is.
I want... a pet lion named Lionel.
I want... to always meet new people.
I want... to pretend I'm a werewolf and howl at the moon every Wednesday night.
I want... to live in Prague and make love to the city's entire population.
I want... to be surrounded by Scottish accents.
I want... to look like Liv Tyler.
I want... a world-wide picnic, where hostilities and prejudices are thrown aside.
I want... to play piano like Regina Spektor.
I want... to party well into the night in a filthy Manhattan flat.
I want... to provocatively dance on a staircase.
I want... to be able to scream inappropriate lyrics at the top of my lungs.
I want... to always have beautiful friends who make me laugh, and who shut me up.
I want... to end up with someone who is smarter than I am.
I want... to never stop posting on this blog.
I want... five cats, each named after the Spice Girls.
I want... to move to Middle Earth.
I want... mind-blowing sex for the rest of my life.
I want... everyone to believe they're wizards.
I want... to never stifle my cackle, no matter how loud or obnoxious.
I want... to create a legacy.
I want... humanity to stuff their faces with delicious food 24/7.
I want... everyone to take a breath, and just laugh at themselves.
I want... to actually finish writing something.
I want... to never stop getting goosebumps.
I want... music to always stay this good.
I want... this passion for life to never dwindle.
I want... to marry a bookworm.
I want... ugly people to feel as though they're beautiful.
I want... everyone to smile with their teeth, not their lips.
I want... to never turn bitter.
I want... to be happy.


I want... all our wants to come true.


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

South by Southwest: "Open your eyes real wide, baby!" (The Vulgar Post)

    Before we begin, let me say that this title may be misleading, considering when I visited Austin, I didn't actually attend the festival... but who cares! Very few people actually read this blog (which is soceity's loss, I assure you) so "iz all coo, brah."
   
    There were so many dirty, hairy, most likely smelly (I wouldn't know, I never got close enough, plus everything smelled of booze), attractive individuals scattered throughout the city due to the SXSW festival. I must have had eye-sex with at least 30% of them. Woah, hold up. Eye-sex? Is this actually a thing, or just another Jacobism? Honestly, I don't even know myself... my guess is that it's a little bit of both.

    My defination of eye-sex is as follows:

eye-sex (n) - Long, drawn out intimate glances that would suggest more than just
            inspection (ex: I had eye-sex all night long.)
            (v) - the act of having eye-sex (ex: He eye-sexed me so hard.)
   

    So, after being ravaged many times via gaze, I decided it was time for a break. Even I have limits...... Have I just discovered the new sexual revolution of my generation? I better get a book deal.


Your happily violated, but still faithful blogster, Jacob.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Sagely Advice: My Homie is Homo

Mean gay people. They're everywhere. I must hide. I'll run away to Prague, no one will disturb me but James McAvoy. Bow-chicka-wow-WOW!
  
    WISDOM of the DAY: Don't get hung up on one person (no matter what Madonna tells you), once you move on, it's so liberating! I know, I know. It's easier said than done. But take it from someone who knows.
   
    I finally, after a year of having a crush on a friend, have at last gotten over them. Shockingly enough, I found myself to be a lot more pleasant person after I came to this realization. This surprised me, considering I never thought of myself as someone who would act love-sick, and let it affect their behavior, but evidently it did. So my advice to the world is, if it's not going anywhere, try your luck with someone else..... or just marry your cat.

    So eat a lot, laugh obnoxiously, chew with your mouth open, sing off-tune, publicly check to see if you zipped your fly, and GET OVER THAT PERSON WHO YOU'RE HUNG UP ON!


Your faithful blogster, Jacob.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

2 h1p$t3r 4 Lyfe

    hi. $omtim3z i thnk im ju$t 2 d33p 4 s0cyity. n0 on3 c@n accept me, bc my cl0thes are 2 retro, and my raybands t00 swagalicious. i lyke 2 spew incorrect fact$ ab0ut lyfe & politics to conceal the fact that im tru1y ign0rant. due 2 all the pre$$ure my p33rs and culture put 0n my naturally pr0minent $houlderz, i feel the need t0 adapt my personality 2 please whoever im with, de$pite what G0d GaGa te11s me. i mean itz only natura1... annimals adapt to their enviroment, and arent we animals t00? woah. th@t was profound. hehe.
   i mode1 my ta$te in musique based on what is on the urb@n 0utfitt3rs viny1 shelf. 0r really obscure indie bands who are obsecure 4 a reason. and s0metimes i quote cl@ssic literary works that ive never read, but thats ju$t the artist within c0ming 2 lyfe.
  peop1e try 2 supre$$ my creativity, b/c im just 2 different. IT$ N0T MY FULT! I WAS B0RN TH1S W@Y!
   i sm0ke cigarettes cause weed iz 2 mainstream. s0 is prof pics of you smi1ing. s000000 c1iche. i drink coffee even tho i hate, hence i only order a mocha fr0pa latte smoothie.
   i pretend im stupid and i re@lly am. i wear glasses that were uncool even when our grandparents were kids. jeez. the world gets me down.
4 the record im not h1pster, i avoid labels.

- dah coolest kid on dah retro block

Raunchy Rendezvous

     The original Starbucks Man has been replaced, and a newer, less 'bad-boy' character has taken his place. Considering kidnapping him. Ha. Kidding! .... I'm not.
     Or maybe I'll just seduce him with my eloquence (WARNING: From this point on, this post is no longer PG): "You always make my coffee extra hot." ; "Foam my coffee, please." ; "Can I chew your biscotti?" That's all I've got... for now. >:)

Your faithful blogster, Jacob.
   

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Rambling the Year Away

    2011? Very good year. Made incredible friends, saw fantastic movies, and learned a lot. With all this confidence, I feel as though I can take over the world. I'LL STAND ON TOP OF A GIANT TRUFFLE AND MAKE THE PEONS SUBMIT. Ha. Kidding. Sorta.
    Quick random, non-relating sentences about this year: A Godia Rewards Card work in any state. James Mcavoy and I have been together a year now. Acting can be fun. Acting can suck. Helen Mirren is a goddess. Jane Campion is a master filmmaker. Redheads are cooler than everyone else. So are lesbians. Gay people are not cooler than everyone else. Did you know herpes never goes away? Everyone should create a club. My cats are from heaven. Icecream is good, until you begin to see the consequences gathering in your gut area. Plasma TVs are overrated.

Now my advice to the world? Simple:
Listen to music as loud as you can. Go outside when the wind is blowing, it's magical. Make as many friends as you can. Fantasy about attractive people. Don't stay hung up on one person, because you're fantastic, and there is another person around the corner. Make eye contact with strangers. Dance as much as you can. And most importantly, never hide a smile or a cackle. Maybe they will smile and cackle with you.

Thank you for listening to this rambling mad man for nearly a whole year.... your faithful blogster, Jacob.