Sam O. Bscure




Okay, But Seriously This Time. I Mean It.

Hey, guess what time it is?
 That’s right! Time for Sam to reappear from the void and act like nothing ever happened.  Yeah, I’m a real blogger. I’m all about discipline and consistency. This blog is my pride and joy, I would never neglect it. 

Okay, fine. So I haven’t posted in five months, get off my case! I’ve been busy! I have school, and work, and dogs to pet, and food to eat, and people to stalk on Instagram, and a false persona to uphold on social media so people I don’t really even like will think I’m cool. Come on, you just don’t understand! It’s not like you have any personal experience with any of those things. 

Besides, everyone knows it’s not your past that defines you. It’s all about good intentions, right? Nothing else matters if you MEAN well. 

And, believe me, I mean so well. My intentions are so good. I’m like the Mother Teresa of good intentions. 

I’m totally not here just to quantify my worth with detailed WordPress statistics. They mean nothing to me, like I don’t even care if…..Wait, 3,488 views? Did someone actually just like my post? Thank God, I was worried I would have to delete it in fifteen minutes like that failed selfie on Facebook that nobody liked.

It’s a Comeback, Kids

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I’ve often been told I shouldn’t leave things to sit. When I mess up, when things seem to be going downhill, when I’m not entirely sure where to go from my current spot, I shouldn’t step away and let it fester.

And that’s true, I suppose, in terms of certain things. You certainly shouldn’t allow things to sit when there’s something you can do about it. Say you’re sorry, fix a miscommunication, get things done when you can.

But, sometimes you can’t. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is step back. Stop. Let it sit. Let it fester. Hell, let that thing rot so badly that even God himself can smell its decomposing flesh from his throne up in the sky. Continue reading “It’s a Comeback, Kids”

The Wrath of The Parental Figures

My children, I must type quickly for I do not have much time. They are coming for me.

I have angered them, the overlords, with my sassiness and intense sarcasm. It was simply too much. And now, they are coming to take from me the most precious of my possessions. My electronic devices.

But, this is not the end of their cruelty. No, they are also taking the one thing we all hold sacred. The one thing we treasure above our very lives. Wi-Fi. Continue reading “The Wrath of The Parental Figures”

A Post to Avoid My Feelings of Guilt For Skipping a Day of Posting (sorry)

I am running late today, my children. And, unfortunately (for you), this means that I do not have the time to write the sort of delightfully witty and just all around mind blowing sort of content you all look forward to each and every day.

I know, your day is likely ruined. And I apologize for this.

Do not weep for me, dear souls, for I shall soon return.

Do not forget me, for I am still here.

We shall conquer this Monday all together, as we have all those that have come before it. And on the other side of this uphill battle, we shall be reunited.

Be strong.

I believe in you, and that is a great honor.

Make me proud.

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.



Big Sam is Always Watching

Look at this, two days in a row. How impressive. I am rising from the pit of procrastination, breaking free from the shackles of shilly-shally, clawing my way out of the trenches of tarry. And I’ve brought my knack for alliteration with me.

That’s right kids, I am back on my way to becoming Blogosphere’s Next Top Blogger and I am prepared to take out all who threaten my rise to power.

Watch your backs.

I’ve got eyes and ears.


I see all, I hear all, I know all.

In other news, I’ve just recently reached 300 followers and despite my façade of confidence, I’m honestly incredibly grateful to all of you.

As you are not able to see my face full of appreciation and all other nice emotions, I have decided to express my feelings via emoji.


Once again, thank you all.

Keep being awesome.

But not too awesome, because as expressed above, I do not handle competition well.


The Reality of Winter

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Photo by Sam O. Bscure

Winter has come, my children.

The air has taken on a chill that can slip through even the smallest of cracks between windows and sills and doors. Snow is floating gently to the ground, glinting in the weak winter sunlight that lasts for only a few precious hours each day. The trees stand as bare skeletons, bony limbs reaching to the sky in vain. The gleeful shouts of children fill the silence as they toss handfuls of snow and attempt to build snowmen.

Ah, yes. Winter. What a beautiful time of year.

That is, until you remember that with such a wintery wonderland, there also comes the embodiment of all things terrible.

My nose is running. My toes are cold. My fingers are cold. My ears are cold. My heart is nothing more than a chunk of ice, although that has nothing to do with the season.

On top of that, all knowledge of proper driving technique was forgotten the moment the first snowflake fell. And, as a person who walks most places, I am quite terrified.

And, let’s not forget that as the youngest person in my household, I am responsible for the shoveling of this frozen joy-hating water from our sidewalk. Along with the sidewalks of our neighbors, because I have to uphold my false image of being a pleasant and respectful young lady.

I’d also like to point out that I am not alone in my unhappiness. The dear and derpy Jarvis is also quite unsatisfied with these conditions. No longer does he eagerly romp to the door in hopes of being sent out to frolic in the yard. Now he attempts to hide, employing all objects large enough for his giant body to slink behind or under. Of course, his methods are rarely successful as he hasn’t truly mastered the art, and in the end he still finds himself tossed out into the cold.

Look at that face, that pathetic little face, pleading as I laugh at him from where I stand in my wool socks and ten million sweaters. That’s what you get for eating my cupcake last week, punk.

Some of you, the eternal optimists, may consider my feelings for winter to be uncalled for or extreme.

Winter isn’t all bad, you say. Fuzzy socks! Warm coffee! Hot cocoa! Crackling fires and family! Cozy blankets and movies! Sledding! Comfy sweaters! Yaaaaaaay!

And to you, there is only one thing I would like to say.


The Bscure Method

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I hate these posts, the awkward ‘I’ve abandoned my blog for who even knows how long and you probably thought I was killed in a freak accident or gave up WiFi to join some interwebless clan and churn my own butter or maybe you didn’t even notice I was gone, in which case you obviously need to get your priorities straightened out because I belong on the top of that list, second only to your dog if you have one because not even I can top dogs and if you don’t have one go get one right now.’

It’s just a burden really, much like the above paragraph-sentence hybrid. I’m never quite sure if I should approach the situation straight on, provide an explanation. And by explanation I mean a bunch of rather clever excuses to distract from the reality, which is I am simply the type of person who is often distracted by shiny things and forgets about prior commitments.

I’ve certainly used that method before, but I believe there is a limit on how many times it can be repeated. At a certain point, it just becomes too painfully see-through and pathetic.

The other option is to fling myself into the center of everything, draw as much attention as possible, and carry on as if I share the same dedication as all you other bloggers who actually manage to consistently post on a set schedule. I respect you, oh great ones among mere mortals.

This seems unfair however, and it leaves me feeling a sensation I am unaccustomed to: guilt.

It seems, however, that there is another option. This third method, known as the Bscure Method, is fairly simple. All that one must do is very publicly declare the problem being faced, complete with details and the various choices you have to resolve the problem. Then, instead of choosing one of the previously mentioned resolutions, you very suddenly conclude your declaration and rapidly switch to a new topic that will appear to your audience to be related to the problem when in reality it’s just your way of avoiding problems and pretending they don’t exist.

Life is all rainbows and butterflies. 😀

November is Coming

It is nearly November, dear children. And, in the world of writing, November is an important month.

Yes. National Novel Writing Month. Because, as writers, we often lack motivation and inspiration and are generally the masters of procrastination (y’all can step right up and challenge me for the throne, as I have become the supreme ruler of all masters of procrastination, I’m quite proud). So, to counteract this Black Plague of writers which steadily kills off our kind, this glorious event was created.

You can find the entire history here, in great detail. I made it to year three. Of fifteen.

Personally, I find the idea to be rather ingenious. The structure is pretty helpful, 30 days to write 50,000 words. Although, I don’t entirely understand how something depending on a sense of community from a group of largely antisocial writers found success. Yay for them, way to beat the odds.

(Disclaimer: that is quite the generalization. Many of you are absolute social butterflies, and that is quite wonderful. Do not be offended by my stereotyping)

Of course, my opinion on this matter is not entirely valid as I’ve never actually participated. I always seem to rediscover the existence of NaNoWriMo approximately two days before it begins. And, at that point, I tell myself it is much too short of notice and I commit to being involved next year. And repeat.

Now, as I am writing this post for my blog, I feel a sense of obligation to mention that November is also the month for National Blog Posting Month, also known as NaBloPoMo, which I think we can all agree doesn’t flow as well. There’s just something about NaNoWriMo, it rolls off of the tongue real nice.

And with that being said, I shall conclude yet another post that I failed to create a solid purpose for, yet still manage to force you to read.
Ha tricked you.

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