http://www.tireswing18.wordpress.com (< check it outt)

sorry! had to delete them. it wasn’t provoked by my mother.. hahah

about 30 seconds ago, i was skimming them and i realized i put my town [not my state...weird.] into one of the paragraphs! naturally these were meant for school, not for the internet so i had no idea.

Heyy sam lovers! I have a new blog site set to begin at 8 PM eastern time! I’m so fantasticly excited about this! it will be http://www.samrenatolliofficial.wordpress.com ! I’ve seen some really uplifting success on aeropostale8 so i decided to start a new one. of course my own jen work is going to remain on aeropostale8 so check back here too! I’m sooo excited and I hope to see all of my readers there!

Hazzah for samrenatollioffical! from the Loser Table,

Sam Renatolli

Finals suck. There’s nothing more painful to me than having to sit for 40-60 minutes in the quiet little room with the pressure of getting a zero if you even hiccup. Because god forbid you’re sending coded hiccup messages to your friends so that you can help them cheat. Parish the thought. This is my first year having finals… they suck. and I’ve only had math, you can see where I get my further expectations from.  I still have a science final on Thursday, a geography final on Friday, and a contunied science final on Monday. Oh, goody. A girl who rants about everything and is about one town event from blowing her brains out gets to be figuring out what kind of bear best survives with a shorter hibernation period from 9:35 to 11:25. Now that’s a healthy combination. Science comes easily to me because for a really, really long time I wanted to be an astronaut. Then I changed my mind and wanted to be a scientist. Then I wanted to be the next Britney Spears but then immideatly took it back when she started dating K-fed. Then I wanted to be a vet which brought me back to science. It’s like a whacky little circle that everyone but me will laugh about because, well, I find nothing funny. So I have about 11 more years of finals to deal with without killing myself or another person with an extremely large textbook… but not the one for my up-and-coming final. We can’t have me on topic, that would just screw with the balance of things wouldn’t it?

Kudos! from the Loser Table,

Sam Renatolli

Today I walked 6 or 7 miles. In the rain. A tempermental loner loser girl who I’m pretty sure is approaching PMS walked 6 or 7 miles in the rain and a car drove through a puddle which covered her and her jeans. Wet jeans make me very uncomfortable. Now picture me (as best you can) wet, mad, and waving my fist in the air like some old guy with kids playing ball on his lawn, yelling “You bastard!” Yeah, today wasn’t really my best day. In fact, I’ve had better ones. What it is with that? Those “Quotes and Sayings” pictures on photobucket tell us to live life to the fullest and drink up the happiness and all that jazz, so why do we end up with days like this? Horrible, suckish days that you wish you could start over from 9 o’clock the night before by not setting your alarm and in the morning, pretending to be sleeping through her shaking and hollaring but…  if i did that she might think i’m dead which would present a whole other problem. if we’re supposed to live life to the fullest if we’re stuck with days like these? so to mock those poor, misguided morons, i wrote this in study hall. it’s supposed to tell you to live your life well even though you’ll get screwed one way or another:

Life is just like a car ride. Read the one-way sign and just enjoy the ride. Drink up the happiness earlier on the ride with someone else driving because you really shouldn’t drink and drive. Don’t stop for gas because it’s really over-priced these days but if it’s a good price, still don’t stop because someone might be smoking and they could set the whole gas station on fire and you’d die. Let the wind run through your hair because you know it feels good, don’t try to put the hood up even if it rains ’cause there might be a drought coming soon. Let the dog sit next to you in the car because your friend should really share the fun too. So drink up, get in the car, read every sign, and don’t let anything stop you because it’s a one way road and a dead end just formed behind you so there’s really no turning back. Have absolutely no regrets

ain’t that happy and uplifting? well, i try.

love and bitterness from the loser table,

sam renatolli. 

What is a guilty pleasure? When a person says “Oh, my favorite show is Hannah Montana” or “My favorite song is Funkytown” do we automaticly assume it’s really a guilty pleasure when the speaker sees the shocked and slightly sickened faces we have on and straight out says it’s some sort of guilty pleasure. I mean, it almost makes sense. I think that for people ages 12-40, Hannah Montana and Funkytown are guilty pleasures. But what is one, exactly? I was watching a special on E  one night about the top 50 guilty pleasures or something and they said that Gilmore Girls was a guilty pleasure. Now, if I have any constant readers, you all know that Gilmore Girls is only my favorite show in the history of shows that could be in the running as a Sam Renatolli favorite. I have aboslutly no problem admitting it, but is it still this thing that the call a guilty pleasure. What next? Will they declare Casablanca a guilty pleasure movie too? Everything in the world of entertainment is falling into Jokers Wild now, isn’t it?

“Your love is like a tidal wave spinnin’ over my head drowning me in your promises, better left unsaid.” Why do men feel the need to lie? To lie to wives, girlfriends, hookers, everything? Do they think we’re stupid enough, naive enough to believe whatever lie they’re telling us? I mean, my love life’s in the toilet, I haven’t had a boyfriend in two years but still, I get things. Even the smallest of lies set us through the roof. I think we just shouldn’t take it anymore. “Honey, I’m going to the hardware store to buy a new toolbox.” (toolbox, dirty tee hee), you go with him. I mean, every woman needs some new nails or perhaps a new drill to match the drapes. Go with him. He can’t go to a strip club with you watching over his shoulder. Ahaha, no.

Bibi from the Loser Table!

Sam Renatolli

Know what really sucks about me? A teacher could be giving a really facinating lecture about anything and I’d be completely spaced. Damn, I’m sure I’ll fail that quiz next period. Why do they even give us quizzes? Practice for tests? Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t that what the homework does? Prepare us? And why do we have homework anyway? What makes them soooo sure that we’ll forget everything that we ever learned that day so they have to stuff 5 freakin’ pounds into our backpacks and send us home to slave upon algebra problems and the 30 capitols of Japan? Then a teacher would say my name to answer a question, I’d pretend to be pondering about it and they’d go to a new person. Case closed. It’s probably why I flunked science last quarter. Or cause I always forgot to bring in my lab projects. Yeah.. I’m betting it was the labs. And how do teachers grade our effort? How the hell do they know how hard we work to maintain atleast a C+ average? They don’t. All the teachers claim they just know. Oh, sorry jedi, didn’t get the memo. They know?! Are they serious?!?! I spent hours working on a science lab back in second quarter and I got a 75. It was hours of slaving over this God-for-saken 11 by 8 paper with glue and pens and little teeny pieces of paper to seperate the stages of classification and i get a 75? It’s absolutly ridiculous. In have no idea what keeps me from killing the entire town but something does, my lucky, lucky town.

There are so many steriotype girls in my school. It’s insane. Like, they all look the same. I get accusations of being on but no. I’ve always like Aeropostale, I thiink that Hollister and Abercrombie are filled with overly priced crap.  My hair has been growing the way it is now for the entire summer. People think I changed it on the first day when I read about it in Seventeen. Uh… guess again. The only time I read Seventeen is at the airport when there are no good books at the store there. Which is a rare occurance, there’s almost always something there. And my jeans. Apparently I started wearing jeans when everyone else did. No, no, no, no, under any cicumstances it that ever remotly true. Ask any one of the girls I hang out with. I’ve been wearing jeans since the second grade, I hardly wore anything else. My mother stopped bothering to buy me cords or dressy pants because she knew that they’d end up in the back of my closet. So I’m just letting all the Barbie dolls of my school know that I will never, ever waste my time to look like them. I am not one of the many.

Laters from the Loser Table!

Sam Renatolli.

Here it is. The subject we all knew was coming. Poop. Yes, my friend, you read it right. I said poop. Crap, shit, droppings, turd, whatever form it’s in, I’ll take it! I’ll be the one to say to myself when I wake up one morning: “I have an idea. Today, I’ll complain about poop!” I’m not gonna lie, it’s gonna get ugly. I always thought of taking a dump as preparing myself for a baby. I really, ligitimently do. Like, you’re pushing this (i know, it’s sounding gross to me right now to me too. bear with me guys.) stuff out of your body, as you would the baby. And let me tell you, I don’t plan on getting pregnant. I’m not found of the whole pushing-a-human-being-out-of-my-body thing. I really am not. I love kids but.. only for babysitting for 6 hours or less. Any more and I’d probably throw the kid against the wall, make some popcorn and watch TV. I really deserve the 10-an-hour payment huh? Oh, and aren’t babysitters supposed to get minimum wage? 10 is above right? I always get confused. It’s like on the math test today it was rambling about translations, slides, and reflections (OH MY! xD). Like, when will I need to know about how to move a triangle? NEVER!!! I’m gonna be a journalist; journalists aren’t usually involved in “Fun With Shapes” are they? Well… I don’t know. We’ll see.

I always thought it would be soooo cool to be invisible. I was wrong. No, I didn’t get bitten by some sort of radioactive spider or any of that jazz.  No, I’m talking about a babysitting course I had to do for Girl Scouts. It was online so… we don’t really know if it was real but it was worth a shot. So I failed the chapter 5 test twice (don’t make fun) but aced the ending test and I got a ride home. So I thought. This meth-addict woman goes by my house three times dropping girls off. I said nothing, I thought it was intentional and I didn’t want to be too outspoken (-.-) On the third time she finally realizes and turns around and drops me off. Oh, that’s nice, it’s always great to be well thought of. Jesus Christ. Kill me before I kill the world because, they’re gonna get their death wish any second now what with the world getting stupider and stupider by the day, by the hour, by the minute, by the second.

It’s not just me who thinks that when a guy says “Call you later” he’s acctualy implying that he’ll call you later right? Kay, good. Swell. Super. I remember the first guy I ever gave my number to. I’m still in love with him, too. It’s like, this entire warm front takes over one half of my body… causing me to lose my balance and… well… fall down. Kinda like when you walk through the door of Kitty’s during the winter (restaurant in town. the food sucks but everyone goes ’cause everyone knows the owner) and the radiator blasts on your head as if you’re taking a walk through hell as a tourist from Antartica. But that has absolutly nothing to do with the guy. He’s cute, he’s unbelievebly smart, and he’s so funny. Colbie Calliait should write a song about him. But he’s older,a year older acutally.

Whoa. I’m getting way of track. But hey, that’s what I’m all about.

What’s quarter of? What’s quarter to? Why can’t people just learn to say 7:45 and 7:15? really not that difficult. sev-an four-tee fi-ive. I don’t see the burden of that. Who wants to waste valuable time, time that they’ll never get back, just to figure out what the hell these fancy-talking people are saying!! I know it sounds so dumb-blond to think that but come on!! It’s like the word potty, it’s not THAT hard to teach a kid to say bathroom. I was saying potty until third grade and look how screwed up I am!! If people need to say the time in that sort of way, try half of instead!! I totally understand that!!!! 7:30! simple! that I totally get. As soon as someone is able to tell me the trouble of having to pick up the slack of saying 7:15, please let me know ASAP.

        Why does everyone feel the need to slam my locker shut when I’m not looking? I’ll slam somethin’ of theirs, that’s for damn sure. Is there some kinda need in people to make me tired and sweaty from having to fight them to stop closing my locker? and what the hell’s up with andrew teeney?! he gets into my locker (how he solved my code i never want to know, i have a very special locking system i made up) and went into my backpack and took my student id. can you say “restraining order” or “stalker” or “FPROF (future pround rapists of america)” or “perve” or anything else that may come to mind as I write. my friend amanda has a locker next to him and found it in there and took it and gave to me. i was all “uhhh…” and she said

“i saw it in andrew’s locker and took it.” that’s when i froze. he sits behind me and he’s always singing and talking to himself and kicking his legs around and i fear that every moment of every day he’s having a freakin’ erection. it’s SCARY. i’m just sitting there squeezing my eyes shut thinking if i was only mean enough to ask to move. plus, i’m the only one who’s remotly kind to him!! when he’s talking (not to himself) he studders like a crazy person and i’m the only one in the class that doesn’t laugh!! it’s like will ferrel just blew through the classroom talking a mile a minute saying every line that a person ever typed up on youtube from movies. it’s incredibly cruel and he laughs too, poor guy thinks they are laughing with him instead of at him.

    At-him. sounds like adam. jesus. adam, adam, adam, western. you can never stay mad at him for very long. he’s like when a little girl takes your lollypop; you’re mad for a second but then the anger disappears with the cuteness of their faces. Adam is cute. He’s not Brad Pitt and he’s certainly NOT my boyfriend but, i sincerely think he likes me. It’s so weird, he’s always giving me these very long gazes. He had mono so I guess he kinda can’t help it since he’s so tired but, those eyes are amazing… but I totally like j. I unfortunatly cannot say j’s name because he has a wordpress. screw him for that. well…

i’m writing a ton and I have to save stuff for The Thoughts, Feelings, Emotions, and Other Aspects of the Ludecris Mind of Sam Renatolli Vol. 3!

I sincerely hope that you enjoy sam’s outlook on her life.

toodles from the loser table!

Sam Renatolli