Sam O. Bscure




A Call to Action For All Who Enjoy Naps

Today, on the third of December in the year 2015, I was told that I am too old for naps.

I know. Just take a moment. Read that again.


My apologies, how rude of me to caps lock. But you must understand, I am INCREDIBLY passionate about naps. If you would like further evidence of this fact, I recommend referencing this post in which I turned into the spawn of Satan when my nap time was threatened.


I love naps.

Now, this alone is concerning. The fact that a human who is currently living on this planet, at this very moment sharing our air, believes there is an age restriction on napping, it’s horrifying.

But, perhaps the most disturbing aspect of this event is the fact that this revolting comment came from another teenager. I feel betrayed by my fellow youths. I thought we were all in this together, a united front in defense of our precious daytime sleeping.

It is a necessity!

How else can you expect me to survive this school system? Not even my ten daily pots of coffee can maintain my life force.

Spread the word, my good people. Spread it like a deadly plague, throughout the world.



Gnashing Teeth of Forsaken Souls

unnamed (13)

Writing has become a rather stressful process.
For example, at this moment, a small child wearing fuzzy blue pajamas is attempting to crawl into my lap despite the fact that I have strategically selected a stool at least three feet off of the ground. I feel as though I am in the very pits of hell, struggling to avoid the groping hands of the dead as they reach out of their damnation in an attempt to force me to join them.

How does one appease the souls of the damned? Do cookies suffice? Or will it be necessary to make some form of agreement with my soul as the payment?
To be honest, I’m quite open to any solution.

Now, my dearest canine amigo has joined the fray and it appears he is not here to protect me from the attacking child.
Some loyal dog.

Amidst the screeching of the small child who is still in the process of scaling my defensive fortress and the unpleasant sensation of uncomfortably warm dog breath with the occasional drip of drool, there is the focus shattering sound of my mother’s voice asking if I have her finger nail clippers and if I’m finished with my homework and if I’ve done dishes yet and if I’d gotten that paper from that office and if I put gas in the car and if I could babysit the rabid child clawing its way up my leg and if I can even hear her over my music as she has just noticed I have in my headphones.

With a well mastered roll of my eyes, I dramatically turn up the volume even more despite the fact that, at this point, I’m pretty sure the neighbors can hear the music.
However, my mother whom I love so much is unfazed and she simply talks louder in an attempt to overpower it. This is not a battle she will win.

She has begun to eat some sort of unnecessarily crunchy food, I believe it is tortilla chips. And even with the screaming child and dog who has also begun to wail, as he believes he too is a child, along with my music which is surely ruining my hearing for life, I can still. Hear. Her. Chewing.

How is that even possible?
Are there some people who have this villainous gift to chew louder than any other possible noise? Or am I cursed with ears that seek out the sound of teeth mashing nasty food goo?
Either way, I do not appreciate it.

Lots-o-Thanks Fest

unnamed (13)Heyo!

Firstly, I’d just like to thank all of you so much for all of those incredibly wonderful comments you’ve given to me recently, particularly about Alice and The Cost of Love. You all truly are great writers yourselves, and just generally fantastic people that I’m honored to know (even if I don’t really know you. In all honesty, you could all be various animals posing as humans and I would have no idea.. All the same, I love each of you).

Continuing on with my Lots-o-Thanks Fest, I’d like to give a shout out to all of you who nominated me for awards. None of which I have completed. Don’t take it personally. It really does mean a lot to me to see my name in those lists, along with other amazing bloggers, and to know that in some way you thought of me. Even if it was out of pity. I’m not picky, I’ll take what I can get.

So, I would just like to reassure you, I will in fact be doing my best to complete those awards. There you go. I know you were all very concerned, sitting on the edge of your seats, awaiting my post to fulfill the nominations you have given me. Well, now you can once again sleep soundly.

However, (brace yourselves, my excuses are coming) chances are that won’t be until next week due to the fact that this is the concluding week of my course and I have a fairly large final project to complete. Not to ruin the surprise or anything, but said project will be an extending of Alice. And, because I am the type of person who is lacking the motivation to write both a prose project and a blog post completely separately, I will most likely be posting it at some point.

In conclusion, I would like to emphasize just how great each of you are. You all are such talented people and I’m so grateful that our crazy little blogging paths have crossed.

Continue on being your awesome selves, you gorgeous things.

Tiny Purple Flowers and Giant Slobbery Dogs

“Look!” My mother shouted to me from where she knelt in front of her garden. “One of them made it!”

In her hands, she had the tiniest purple flower I had ever seen. Holding it out to me as though this pathetic little plant contained the answer to the very meaning of life, she looked at me expectantly and waited for me to understand the obvious importance of what was happening at this moment.

I didn’t.

With a sigh and a dramatic eyeroll that even I, the master of sass and sarcasm, envied she got up from where she was kneeling and shoved the flower directly at my face.

“Your dog,” she said, emphasizing each word with a flick of her wrist, “ate the rest of them. But not this one.”

At this point, with the way she cradled the flower much like Gollum had his precious ring, it seemed that perhaps she valued its life even more than mine.

Yet, as I crossed my eyes to see it better, even I couldn’t deny the enormity of this event. My dog was a killing machine. Mercilessly tearing up plants the moment they touched dirt.

None the less, my mother valiantly marched on and protected her garden against his malicious deeds.

And, in an attempt to repay her for her kindness, it offered from it’s soily depths one purple flower the size of my thumbnail.

Yes, I could see it now. Despite the fact that my eyes were completely angled inwards, it was clear to me now:

even when there was something tearing up your progress five times faster than you were making it, there would always be pay off. As long as you kept going, there would always be success in the end.

That is, unless you are a gardener trying to defend a tiny purple flower against a giant dog.

In that case, the above mentioned dog will hear you as you happily show off your flower and come enthusiastically galloping to you from some unknown location.

And, then, proceed to eat said flower in one fatal chomp.

Needless to say, his enthusiasm was not appreciated.

Sam O. Bscure and Channing Tatum (and golf)

Do you know what’s painful? Golf. It is indescribable agony.

You know, maybe I’m being a little unfair. It takes dedication. You need to have some intense focus for that. Personally, the only time I could ever posses such focus is… Well, never. But, that’s not really the point. Golf is definitely a challenging sport and it is definitely an underappreciated activity.

So, with that being said, let us all take a moment to appreciate it for all of its glorious wonder.

Very good. The moment is over.

Now, I shall continue with my hate because I feel as if I have justified it by first offering a compliment. Seems fair.

What is it, you ask, that brings on this sudden passion over golf? Well, you see, it is inspired by the fact that at this moment I am watching the Masters’ Game.

Why would I do such a thing if I don’t enjoy golf, you ask (Good golly, you are just full of questions today!)? That would be because at this moment I am also in my English class and not given much choice, because clearly my teacher has a great love for this particular event. He is very emotionally invested, to the point of being mildly disturbing. Yet, like a car wreck, I can’t look away.

This makes sense though, right? English, golf. I mean, they go together like peanut butter and jelly.

Or maybe it’s more of a Sam O.Bscure and Channing Tatum situation, because there is absolutely no relationship in existence

Sam ‘n 200

art by Charlie Speratis
art by Charlie Speratis

I’ve just reached 200 followers, and to me that’s just completely mind blowing and amazing, especially considering I haven’t really posted for the last two weeks… I’ve also just been nominated for two awards by BubbaKavangha and Asil, so thank you so much to both of those amazing bloggers.

To all of you, I want you to know that I appreciate you so much more than you might think. I’ve loved having the chance to find so many crazy and wonderful people that I wouldn’t have without this blog. Your stories have touched my heart, your support has inspired me, and your humor has left me laughing very loudly in very public places. And love all of it.

I also want to thank Charlie, who has really been the biggest inspiration and supporter for me. I don’t doubt that quite a few of you were only sucked into this blog by her artwork that she creates just for me to use on this blog. As much as I wish she could, she doesn’t really get anything out of the deal other than a “THANK YOU! THAT’S SO AMAZING!” text from me, an occasional hug, and the compliments you leave her in the comments. And yet, she still creates that crazy beautiful artwork every week.

So, to each and every one of you, thank you.

I’ve loved getting to know you so far, and I’m always looking for new blogs, new posts, and any ideas or criticism so feel free to get in touch with me through email or through the comments.

You all are quite wonderful. But, still not as wonderful as Batman. Sorry.

Some Love For Charlie

Just Fall by Anthem Lights

In her life, Charlie Speratis (the amazing artist for this blog) has been through so much loss and pain. More than anyone as young as she is should ever have to. The story is hers to tell, and not mine, so I won’t go into detail. But, for the majority of her years, she has had an extremely hard challenge to overcome, the loss of her mother,

For me, personally, I can’t even imagine what that would be like, how hard that would be. So, I’m not going to pretend to really understand.

And now, she has just been forced to face yet another loss of someone who was very close to her.

So, I’d just like to ask all of you to send your love, prayers, and support Charlie’s way.

We both appreciate it.

Sam vs. Metal Mouth

I <3 my orthodontist

Alas, the dreaded day has come. I have now joined the ranks of people worldwide who suffer from imperfect teeth and are forced to have metal glued into their mouths. I am a metal mouth.

For those of you who have never had to deal with said situation, that’s wonderful for you. But, unfortunately, not all of us can be blessed with such delightful gifts. And let me tell you, it is in no way a pleasant experience.

Well, that’s not true… I did thoroughly enjoy choosing what color I wanted those weird little bands to be (blue and silver, if you’re wondering).

But, after that it just goes downhill.

Overall, the whole ordeal took over 3 hours. Three. Hours. Now, of course this is not the norm. But, being Sam, things just never go quite how they are expected to.

What’s supposed to happen is pretty simple: they glue some brackets on your teeth, put a wire in them, and do some other crazy things that I didn’t see and so I cannot tell you about them.

But what happens with Sam is not so simple. First, you must spend ten minutes trying to jam this weird contraption into my rather small mouth that I assume is meant to keep my mouth open. Or maybe just to see how far they could stretch my face. Then, you spend another half hour sucking every ounce of liquid from my body via my saliva. Personally, I found that to be extremely unnecessary.

At this point, you are finally able to begin gluing in the metal. But, wait! Halfway through you need to stop because your mom’s brother’s dog’s aunt’s cousin called and needs to talk to you at that moment. It’s okay, I understand. It sounds very urgent. I’ll just sit here, with my face being slowly torn apart and my mouth beginning to grow some cacti because you turned it into a desert.

When you’ve finished dealing with your crisis, you return and are then able to finish installing my metal mouth and at long last my face is able to move back to a more natural position. And then, of course, you need to show me all of the proper brushing techniques to prevent the complete destruction of my teeth. Thank you, I found that rather helpful.

After you complete this in depth demonstration, I practically sprint out of the place.

Yes, I’m finally done! I don’t have to see you again for another two months!

Oh, no. Just kidding.

One of my brackets popped off before I even made it home. I live five minutes away. Quality work.

So, I return and the process is repeated. You take me back in and end up popping off four more of my brackets. Awesome. And then, you say it’s because I have a ‘juicy lip’.

First, what does that even mean?

And second, I greatly appreciate you blaming me and my lips for the undependability of your glue and your ability to use it.

On that note, for the next 24 hours, Sam the hamhanded goat with no eyes who has a juicy lip shall be sitting silently in a corner shaking her head in confusion at the world and wondering why people find these words to be the best to describe her, and her body parts.

Sam vs. The Daydream Award


So, a few days ago, I was nominated by Caitlin for this awesome award that she created herself. Honestly, I’m slightly upset. She created her own award, and all I do is sit here writing stories about angry chickens….

Anyway… If you haven’t checked out her blog yet, you should definitely do that. She’s great, and she always makes me feel good about myself because she always calls me awesome. Just me. Not the rest of you who also read her posts.

I was also nominated by Hann for this award, and she is also great and you should also check out her blog. She doesn’t call me awesome though… But she does know how to rock a pair of Hello Kitty sunglasses, so I guess it evens out.

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award

2.Complete the challenge they set you

3. Select a blog or blogs to give the award to

4. Tell them about it and set the challenge

Caitlin’s Challenge: make up a word and write a definition for it

Ergaflergaderg: an exclamatory term used to express surprise, excitement, or any other exclamatory emotion

Example: “Ergaflergaderg! I just saw a giant chupacabra hiding behind that fat goat!”

I find this term rather convenient and applicable to everyday conversation. Please feel free to use it as often as you possibly can.

Hann’s Challenge: describe the most vivid dream you can remember in the greatest detail possible, and try to explain what it means

Well, kids. Sit back and enjoy this delightful tale concocted by my magnificent brain during that precious event known as sleep.

It was just another day in the life of Sam, trudging through a boring school day. But, that was all about to change. Suddenly, the entire building was plunged into complete darkness. All around me, people screamed and threw themselves onto the ceiling in utter fear. It seemed rather strange at the time, I had no idea how they were even capable of that, but I didn’t question it.

Pulling off my backpack, I frantically dug through it, searching for my desired object. Ah, yes. There it was! My beloved flamethrower. I always like to keep one on hand, especially at school. With flamethrower in hand, I crept out of the classroom leaving behind my spider-like peers who still clung to the ceiling. As I stepped out into the darkness of the hallway, I reached up to pull down my nifty night vision goggles conveniently already on my head. For as far as I could see, there was no one in sight. I walked onward, careful to remain silent. As I reached a turn in the hallway, I paused and pulled out my cellphone, noticing the blinking notification of a new text message.

Mom: Where r u? Dishes aren’t done, get home now or no food for the rest of ur life

In a fit of rage, I threw my phone and it vanished in a puff a multicolored glitter. Whatever, she couldn’t tell me what to do. I didn’t need food anyway.

Adjusting my flamethrower and the machete that had now appeared in my other hand, I continued on around the corner. And that’s when I saw them. The monster-beasts. They were giant, like some sort of mutated man with a dash of dog and a sprinkle of snake. Horrifying.

I froze where I stood, hoping that they wouldn’t notice me. One of the monster-beasts was munching upon what appeared to be an unusually large foot of some sort, but he paused a moment and glanced in my direction. With a nasty, mucus filled snort, the monster-beast alerted his brethren of my location and as one they all charged towards me.

I aimed my flamethrower at them and began to perform an interpretive dance, hoping to wow them with my mad moves. It was unsuccessful however, and I had to go with plan B. So, I took of in the opposite direction and ran until I reached the outside of the school.

The monster-beasts were still right on my tail, leaving trails of slimy goo behind them. I then dashed over to the most pathetic excuse for a car there ever was and climbed inside. As the key was already in the ignition, I started it instantly and drove away.

In my rear-view mirror, I watched as the monster-beasts all shook their fists at me in anger and then continued to devour their tasty feet.

With a sigh of relief, I leaned back in the seat and began jamming out to some tunes as my car took flight and soared off into the sunset.

And there is your Story Time With Sam.

As far as explaining what that means goes, I haven’t the slightest clue. But, if you happen to be an expert, or even an amateur dream interpreter, I would absolutely love to find out.

Here are the blogs I’m going to nominate, although I’m pretty sure most of them already have been…

The Ok Life Of a Female Adolescent



The Chosen One

Hann (am I actually allowed to nominate the person who nominated me…?)


I need to start reading more blogs… These are pretty much the same people I nominated for the Liebster Award.. Oops.

My Challenge For You:

Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to state your favorite super hero and explain why they’re the best (and by that I mean explain why Batman is so much better than everyone else); to achieve bonus points, use the term ‘ergaflergaderg’ at least once.

But, these bonus points will achieve absolutely nothing. So, I’m not sure why you would do that.

A Note To Sophie: fear not! I haven’t forgotten about you! Your song is a work in progress 😉
Thanks again to Caitlin and Hann!

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