Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Belated but obligatory fare-thee-well announcement to '00

Dear MLC 2009. 

Well, the few people of MLC 2009 who read this blog, namely..this incestuous blog circle. 

It's been a pleasure to frolic together in the springtime of our youth. You all have ripened from tiny green kernals into juicy juicy fruits. I am sure you will sow the seeds of your experience into the fertile ground of the future. Thus concludes this incoherent, pointless metaphor that is farewell, but not really. 

Ah well..what did you expect anyway?

I thank you for putting up and humoring me this past few years. I have no doubt been a self-centered and annoying prick more often than not, but I'm working on fixing it. Wish you the best.

haha.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

how interesting

Something quite interesting happened on the train today! For once in my dull, miserable life I have something to write in this blog. 

3:48pm
I get on the train at Strathfield. The train is old. Life is uneventful.

3:52pm
I hear some lady mumbling to herself in the seat on the other side of the aisle. I disregard these noises and go back to worrying about the ext1 maths results. 

3:54pm
Lady whacks me on the leg with her shoe. 

Me: WTF?!

Lady: How dare you ignore me...I asked you to f**king leave. Can you f**king get out?

Me: ...no

Lady: ... 

Me: ...

Lady: *starts mumbling about kicking asians*  I'll kick you off this fucking train. Teach those f**king asians. *mutters about various other things*

Me: *watches scenery*

3:56
Train stops at Ashfield. I get up to leave. 

Lady kicks me. More accurately, she sticks her foot out. 

Me: ... *steps over her leg and exits the train*



nb: times are approximate

Friday, July 31, 2009

A less serious story.

My belonging short story:

Once upon a time, e.g. last Monday, a girl got her boobs blown off in a tragic incident. What the incident is, we don't know. However, we can be sure that it is Very Tragic™. 
The boobless girl wandered aimlessly around society, deprived of her squishy little puppies. This is her story.

Oh my, woe is me. I totally feel a lack of belonging within my high school society! I am no longer the most curvaceous one in my social group. I am no longer pursued by boys and girls alike. In fact, all the cool girls in my school laugh at me! Even the uncool girls laugh at me, and that is, like, so not on.  If I had the guts to, I would totally, like, cut myself. 
Oh, cruel world: I no longer feel like a female! It feels like I've been castrated. Except this is worse than being a eunuch, because I've got two (2) parts of my body cut off while a eunuch had one (1).
The space which had been once filled with twin spongy rock melons of tissue and fat is as empty as the gaping void I'm imprisoned in. In other words, very. 

Such are the thoughts running through our heroine's head as she traipsed breastlessly to the shops. On the way, however, a plot device changed her life forever. 

I was interrupted from my aimless wandering by a shrill scream. 
"AHHHHH HELPPP PERVERT!!!11!11"
Like a pack rats scenting the smell of cheese, the passers-by, me included, swiveled around to the source of the scream. And my life changed forever. 
That shrill scream's owner- O, what perfect perfect lovely wonderful puppies she had. Her gigantic shining golden beachballs bedazzled me, sending down shivers of jealously down my beachball-less chest. I've never wanted anything as badly as I did that moment, where my fingers itched to remove those shining suns and reattach them onto myself. 

A young man beside me whispered to his mate- 'Bet they're fake. What a bimbo.'

O, what how could I describe the wave of joy and hope that washed across me in those seconds. In my relief, I hugged him tightly, breastless chest to breastless chest. In that moment, I felt a flickering spark of kinship, ignited by our common bond. 

But he ran away. Oh well.

The epiphany remained, however. The way out of my current bereft state emerged like the sun after a thunderstorm

So our heroine went to the doctors' next morning and got some fake boobs, and lived happily ever after.

THE END.


Friday, July 17, 2009

Sunday, July 12, 2009

the highlight of my day.

when most others are studiously studying and busily busying themselves for their trials, I have been ensnared in the evil clutches of a new vice- Animal Crossing!

It's kinda like a cross between the sims and harvest moon, except all your neighbors are animals and its for little kiddies (mostly) . It's really quite sad, but very addictive. 

And yes, I realize that this is extremely infantile, but this totally made my day. 

AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA

And if you're going wtf right now, the frog (yes. it's a pink frog called Puddles) wanted a catchier greeting, and asked me (the dude) to give her one(the blue bit). Well, it certainly is catchy. 

*goes back to animal crossing studying*

Friday, July 3, 2009

"time...to die"

dispight the tietle, this post is nigh ther ;bout blaid runna nor sewyside. 

==============[

She remembers this dawn. It remained unchanged from 10 years ago. She still can't see the sun past the towering, jagged 'trees' of cement. Warm daylight still scattered by the hazy grey of pollution, sent from a sky of the exact same shade. No breeze dare stir the man-made soup of smoke, dust and grime, save for the displaced air from an unknown figure rushing by to an unknown destination. 
She remembers the tinny dings of bicycle bells, the hoarse calls of street vendors advertising their wares, the sound of dough and eggs sizzling merrily in grease- noises coalescing like messy stitches that form the tapestry of life. 

She finds herself following her nose, the trail of fried spring onions and eggs leading her to a unimpressive metal stall. A time-weathered brown face peeked out from behind a curtain of people, brows furrowed in concentration. He was selling breakfast, she acknowledged briefly, before fumbling in her woolen pockets for coins. Fingers finding nothing but lint and candy wrappers, she cursed loudly. 
Her voice only travelled for a second before getting swallowed by the noises around her. 
 
The smell was deliciously overpowering, thickening the smoky air. Her nostrils feel saturated with it, as her mouth became saturated with saliva. A throbbing pulsed in her skull, pounding with the rhythm of the vendor's hypnotic movement. 
She does not want to walk away. She can not walk away.

The wizened old vendor lifted his head and peered up at her, his face pockmarked with flecks of green. Her body must have unconsciously moved towards the stall, the analytical voice in her mind remarked detachedly. It was drowned out by the smell, the wonderful aroma that she cannot get enough of. Inhaling deeply, she let the wholesome aroma fill her lungs to the brim, spilling out into her entire being. She hungers. 

Nothing seems to exist around her now, the background noises muffled, as if coming from a great distance. She is a void, her entire consciousness bent towards one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything in this godforsaken world. The old man's face is golden brown dough, embedded with fresh spring onions and lightly toasted mushrooms. He seemed to sway and beckon across the counter. 

With a resounding crash, she knocks the flimsy counter to the ground. The stall collapses like a tower of cards. Her hands move up slowly, tearing off a piece of fragrant, golden flesh. Red- brown liquid oozed out like thick tomato sauce. She found it a perfect complement to golden dough as she rolled it around in her mouth, savoring the taste. It melted in her mouth like heavenly ambrosia and she reached for another piece. 
"Two dollar for one pancake, three dollar for two," a heavily accented asian voice cut through her senses like a rusty knife through butter. 

"What?" she croaked

"You cannot pay? Not expensive!" the old vendor complained

Panicking, she rummaged trough her pockets again, but coming up empty. 
"I'm sorry, is there anyway I can repay-" 

Bloodcurdling screams rose up around her, bouncing and echoing inside her already throbbing head. She looked up, horrified. 

The texture of his face had morphed from spongy omelette texture to leathering, wizened skin. What remained of his face was in shreds, blood running down from the torn flesh onto the charred torso below. A bloodshot eye hung loosely from a ruined socket, grey matter oozing sluggishly. 

Bits of burnt omelette littered the filthy sidewalk around her as sirens wailed in the distance. 



If someone can tell me what's lacking in this, I'll be forever grateful. 

Monday, June 29, 2009

wut?

A gray sphere.

Retaining its shape underneath my feet, the sphere exists in a state of limbo- held in equilibrium by pressure from inside and outside. The sphere is composed of a manufactured, plastic substance, its surface smooth and dry. Concentric circles decorate its grey uniformity, starting from the top, and progressing evenly towards the bottom. Although it may look similar to equators on a globe, these raised ridges only create differences in texture. The smooth and dry surface is interrupted by these minor ripples, which seem to serve no particular purpose other than ornamental. 

The sphere is unstable, and thus rolls around its dark confines discontentedly. Full of kinetic energy that was transferred from my movement, it seems to sit menacingly, biding its time. Occasionally it squeaks nonsense no human can understand- even if they do, they cannot comprehend. The gray tediousness of the restless object seems to suck the heat from its surroundings. I disapprove. 

Now it rolls back and forth in a feral rhythm, picking up months old grime in the process. Perhaps it fancies itself to be a caged beast, iron-wrought muscles wasting away from disuse. Perhaps it feels wrongfully imprisoned- a prisoner struggling against the inevitable. Who am I to say?

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

cowpoke. *bzzzzzt*

blame this on qwertatious. ie. the cowpoke? which erm. pokes the cow. 

bzzt.

I think I'd rather be born a d00d. things seem so much simpler as a d00d. d00ds game, like me. why? why are teenage girls so hormonal? is it hormones? or is it normal and im the one that's weird?

Ok, i really have no idea what to say, so I'll just write things down as things pop into my head.

List of excuses women make when they socially stumble:
- sorry, I'm on my periods
- sorry, I'm meno-pausing
- sorry, it's the hormones
- sorry, haven't had enough sleep
- sorry, so tired.
- sorry, coffee-deprived

yeah. the last 3 mean the same thing. and the first 3 means the same thing.

List of excuses men make when they want you to shut up and stop blathering
- sorry, haven't had enough sleep
- sorry, so tired.
- sorry, coffee-deprived
sorry, i have a small penis and i'm compensating for it by being an asshole

Dunno what the point of that was, it's kinda amusing to see all the sorrys' line up in a column so neatly.
laughs awkwardly


Whenever i see cchen look at a dirty pic/read smut i feel like patting her on the head. It's like..wow...she's all grown up now :D :D :D

And whenever i have no idea what's going on..like in heshi or gchu's heads these days (im referring to their latests posts), i'm like...cmon! i can't dispense so called pearls of wisdom erm advice if well...the advisor is in a state of ??? ! switch from 1st person to 3rd person within one sentence? a grammatical travesty!!1111one   plz dont take me seriously, its like when ever i say something the slightest bit awkward, i tend to start rambling about the strangest things to cover it up. 
the ratio of substance:ramble = 1:3.

Think of me of....an apprentice !normalgirlfriend. i need to gain experience in helping ppl with their problems. What will YOU do in the the name of education??? Here's a suggestion!!1 SHARE! Lemee stick my nose in your festering emotional pudding!!1 (yes that was meant to sound wrong.It's not a freudian slip if i realize it, muahaha.)

I think we're all quite short sighted about our own good qualities, but can judge other's good qualities quite accurately. to quote that self defense guy (i think) who said- " don't compare your inside with other people's outside.
of course, that is the optimistic spin on
We can perceive our own faults most clearly. Other opinions are... irrelevant! IRRELEVANT! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!! props to whoever gets that reference.

moving on...
my gum hurts. i think (2) teeth are growing at the back of the mouth. is it supposed to do that? shitshitshit i hate going to the dentist. 

I did something really moronic in my music ext assessment. i put one of the pages at the wrong place. then i didn't realize until i got up to it...and realized that shit!wrong page! and i had to stop in the middle of the damn piece to find the damn page. 

Also- I was stressing before about life after hsc. but since so many ppl are going future future future...i feel like i should be stressing more X_x

we have a really incestuous blog 'circle'- to quote qwertatious going on...where we each check and comment on each others blogs...like the 9th circle of hell. joiiiinnnnnnnnnnn ussssssssss youuu knnowwwww yoouuuuu wwwaanttttt tttoooooooooo. It's funny. I used to worry so much about offending ppl..and now i don't care anymore. That's a lie. I still care, unfortunately. Just not so much. Progress- We're making it! 

Ever did something you KNOW is bad for you..but you do it anyway? 

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Finally. Something interesting. (familiar?)



Your's truly and her dad went back home for the first time in 2 weeks (long story).

Your's truly to get her STAT result and to have a shower
Your's truly's dad to mow the grass. 

btw, your's truly got to drive! BONUS!

At home:

EEEEE! MAGGOTS ON THE KITCHEN CEILING! And walls! I kid you not. 
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look 
at it), your's truly didn't take a picture, coz your's truly didn't bring her phone home. 



Above: unrelated.

Anyway, following investigation (by yours truly and her dad), the culprit was revealed to be some peanuts yours truly's mum left at home.

Oh, dear.

Yours truly's dad advised yours truly to PACK THE PEANUTS AND TAKE IT TO SHOP(noun). 

TO SELL. MUAHAHA.

TO EAT. 

No, seriously. He wanted to pick the maggots out and afterwards eat the peanuts. 
remember kiddies: maggots are a good source of protein!!11!one

When yours truly advised him to burn it instead, he looked at yours truly as if she is crazy. 
Granted, she is...but it's like the BLACK HOLE calling the kettle black. 
But then again, this is the same guy who mixed up a lemon and an orange.

Moral of the story: never leave your peanuts or any other kind of nuts lying around. You never know WHAT you would find when you get back.


On a completely unrelated topic, 
GUESS WHAT I GET TO WEAR ON THE PEE-SOLIDIFYING WINTER NIGHTS?
 

HELL YEAH!!!

And to end: 

HELL YEAH!!!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

I have 2 exams looming ominously above my head...it's coming closer CLOSER OMGWTFBBQ NOOOO!!11!111111oneoneSTRESSSTRESSTRESS and here I am, blogging like I have NOTHING BETTER TO DO. 

Definitions of self-destructive on the Web:

  • dangerous to yourself or your interests; "suicidal impulses"; "a suicidal corporate takeover strategy"; "a kamikaze pilot" 
Above: no correlation whatsoever

I have, as usual, nothing much to say, except celebrate my wondrous discovery of how to use T3H STRIKETHROUGH. Such a shiny, shiny new toy *salivates*

Following the example of heshiyun, guru of all matters bloggy and hip, I present: a random vid made out of awesome!



BØRK BØRK BØRK

Friday, May 29, 2009

Newsflash:

Oh My F*cking God. Newflash!
I hereby express my incredulity:
My father cannot tell the difference between an orange and a lemon. Apparently because he's colourblind?
Not rocket surgery, is it? 









(Pictured: left- orange;  
below- lemon)




The study of comparing citrus fruits: a f*king science in 1/3 of our household. Wacky, no?

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

This post is the bastard child of watching media watch and a lull in homework.

Looks like I'm on an english bashing streak. Don't expect it to end anytime soon- results for the oral assessment is hovering on the horizon like a gargantuan swarm of locusts. It's coming to get me. It's coming to DEVOUR MY SOUL. I AM BEING VERY DRAMATIC. IN CAPS LOCK TOO. 

Expect this post to be rambling and confusing. You see that x in the corner? Press it. It's not too late to turn back. 

Sometimes I try to say something very profound, and the only thing that pops out is a cliche. The one that comes to mind right now is 'ignorance is bliss'. So true, so damn true. Yet over-said, cliche. But that's ok- because the only reason it is cliche because many people say it. People see the truth in that statement, short and to the point, a clean summary of the loss of innocence. 

The person who came up with a 'cliche saying' is very wise. Sometimes I feel it is a chore, a constant struggle to communicate meaning. Humans are inherently flawed- the voice doesn't make sense, or the ears can't care enough to listen (i meant that metaphorically). So something like 'ignorance is bliss' that is short, to the point, carries meaning successfully- it sticks. It 'gets the point across', to use another cliche. These sayings are tools- specialist, store-bought tools we employ to communicate our ideas. Not custom-made or home-made, but professional, precise copies of blueprints that talented predecessors had discovered. And personally, I admire them for it. It also makes me feel so very young- because I have so much to learn, and so ignorant compared to others. (and don't quote 'ignorance is bliss' back at me. In this case, 'knowledge is power', and here I am using another cliche.). Yes young. You know the feeling you get when you look at this? 
Kind of like that. Human history isn't even one millimeter on that scale. 



Do tools ever lose their impact? It is also human nature to dismiss, discard tools when they lose their shine. When you overuse tools, they become blunt. (And boy, do humans ever love to overuse stuff. But that would involve me going into another tangent. And this cliche thing is already a tangent). And that's how a benign, nice saying turns into cliche. Take the history of music, something I am unfortunately familiar with. Music in history reflects the public favour at the time- what people like, ie. what is 'in fashion'. Each 'period'- baroque, classical, romantic, etc. came about because of the people's boredom with the previous period. I'm sure this is the case for other forms of art. I suppose what I've just spouted in the last 2 paragraphs could be summarised by this- "cliches r actually pretty wise, just sorta overused. so i'm allowed to use it coz i cbb typing up something that means 'ignorance is bliss'. so don't go- argh, she's so cliche. *sticks tongue out*"

Anyway, what I actually meant to say was that ignorance is bliss, so damn the english syllabus. The current unit- conflicting perspectives is pissing me off, not because it's boring and etc, but because the nature of conflicting perspectives makes it so frustrating. 

I felt to urge to blog after watching 'media watch' because of this story. You don't have to watch it, because the frustration hardly came from the show, but more the comments. It's not a particularly fascinating story, certainly not one that interests me (it's about some footy sex scandal involving Matthew Johns, that dude from the Footy Show. I confused him with Andrew Johns at first lol). What IS interesting is the way people react to it. First 'Media Watch' presents the perspectives, in a supposedly neutral way, because Media Watch is the impartial watchdog, blah blah blah. And while it does give voice to both sides- it does condemn Johns and support Four Corners- the show that exposed this event. And then the comments- many of which are as long as this post, minus the cliche tangent, and infinitely more scholarly- many commentators are obviously expert analysts, some have ties to one perspective or the other. (They read the Australian instead of Daily Telegraph, that's for sure). 

Some accused Media Watch of being biased, others siding with it. And debate. Oh, how much debate there were. The commentators typed up long, intelligent remarks- all expressing their own opinion while refuting the one above theirs. Some expressed their disgust of the offender, some were skeptical over the girl's apparent distress, some were sympathetic to both parties- the suffering they went through, I quote- "it doesn't matter who is guilty or who is innocent, because both victim and perpetrator - whichever is which - are being punished. Johns has had his name dragged through the mud and his career trashed. The girl has had much the same treatment. One of them deserves it, one of them doesn't. Which one is which, only a very small handful of people really know."  

That I most certainly agree with. And surely you are wondering now- what's the point of all this, strangledcod dear? The point is- it's because of the debate- the entire, oh-so-democratic 'let's hear both sides of the argument, and then prove or disprove this and that" attitude that CAUSED the girl to become suicidal. 

First the media/four corners and the 'footy show/nine/Johns battled it out over who was in the right. Then Media Watch swoops down onto the carcass in so-called justice- like a vulture (a judgmental vulture, lol), and then the commentators, like worms or something, scavenges the last vestiges, again, in so-called justice, trying to convince each other their opinion is in the right. But what of the carcass? Their privacy, self-respect, self-esteem had been ripped from their bones. As the battle dragged on and on, they were the ones that was hurting more and more. And the public? Anything for good juicy gossip. Even though I haven't watched four corners, nor the news articles, I am just as guilty. 

DO YOU KNOW WHY? I f*cking realized this as I was writing that last paragraph, and figured I invested too much time in this to go delete this post. Because I have just expressed my opinion- just like all the commentators on that page, just like Media Watch. I am a hypocrite, of course, and by writing this, I am just prolonging the metaphorical battle. Lol, I'd be a decomposing microbe or something, but since my opinion aren't worth 50c in the grand scheme of things, this doesn't really matter. Teeheehee. 

So thus is the corrupting power of 'conflicting perspectives.' Because at the end of it all, feelings are hurt, time is wasted, points are raised and considered, and debated and processed and baked and rinse, repeat. And we have no definitive answer to who was in the right. 

'ignorance is bliss' indeed. If this issue was never raised, if no one cared or displayed no interest in it, nothing changes. Life will keep on rolling on, as per usual. But neither parties would be so damn wounded. (Lol, I just realized this also applies to war, opening a new can of worms- yep, another cliche. This is kinda fun.)

So basically? F*ck English. This all boils down to it. Conflicting perspectives is stupid and frustrating, and more trouble that it's worth. And now I'm sulking like a typical teenagers. Because you know what? I do understand what they're trying to teach us- belonging, conflicting perspectives, analyzing text, humanity. They are trying to make us more aware of the world around us, more critical, not just accepting of other opinions, but forming our own. They are teaching us to be less ignorant. 

But f*ck that. Ignorance is bliss. I probably would have never feel left out my group if I wasn't made to learn about belonging. I would probably bitch about everyone, making me more interesting to talk to- if not for my attempts to be less judgmental- considering others perspectives. I wouldn't be so damn bitter and cynical (dare i say emo?). I would probably have practised violin for my lesson tomorrow instead of writing this long and pointless piece of shit. And I realize that this is probably what everyone goes through- this adolescent feeling of wanting to stay a child forever. But I wish people would stop sounding so superficial sometimes. It makes me lose respect for them. It also makes me feel quite lonely Because I know in my head that they're intelligent and resourceful and grow up to be happy, successful people. But it still makes me lose respect for them and I really, really don't want to turn into a bitter old lady hating the world and humanity and everyone and I'm feeling I'm going down that path and I dunno what to do. 

Edit: And you know what the sad thing is? I wish my posts could be like gchus, or canadians, or heshiyun's, etc, coz they're generally not depressing, nor this boring or long. I mean, I'm a teenager right? Shouldn't I be talking about guys and shopping and complaining about my family or talking about how nice and supportive my friends are? I know what you're gonna say- you're unique, you're yourself, and you shouldn't try to be like someone else, blah blah blah, but it's so damn...annoying..for lack of a better word, to always be the odd one out. 
So yeah, wish you pressed that little x now?

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Delicious!



How to Make A Bullshit Biscuit,  better know as an 'English Essay'


Ingredients:

- Teacher Regurgitation
- meaningless sentences
- essay verbs
- synonyms
- Quotes
- Big Words


Instructions:

1. Pour 5 bags of Teacher Regurgitation into a large pot (a word document will also work). 

2. Mix well with essay verbs, and stir until mixture forms dough

3. Add a sprinkle of synonyms for flavor. Make sure you use a Thesaurus to do so, otherwise, the dough may Make No Sense.

4. Separate dough into roughly 6-8 chunks. Make sure you have an introduction chunk and a conclusion chunk. No one knows why. Just do it.

5. Put into Quotes Oven (or a Technique-Example-Effect™ Oven if you can afford it) and set the temperature to 'maximum'. Bake until biscuits have expanded to a formidable size.

6. Meanwhile, mix meaningless sentences with Big Words together in a bowl. This will go on top of biscuits- hence 'bullshit biscuits'. Add a dash of piss for smooth consistency.

7. Once the biscuits are ready, take them out of the oven.

8. Copy-and-paste the bullshit icing onto the biscuits. Make sure to spread it liberally.

Congratulations! You now know how to make Bullshit Biscuits™!!! Serve them to your teachers, family and friends! (we take no responsibility for any nausea, migraines or Bad Marks which may follow)

Delicious!!!!


Friday, May 1, 2009

It's been 3 months

3 months is a third of a pregnancy

Nothing to say as usual, just feel like being an attention whore (read this everybody, zomg, lemee tell u all bout my life, liek, iz soooooo interesting).
No offence, of course. Blame this on sleepy...iz 11:14pm...am frustraTed because i was trying to learn a shitty new piece and it sounds shit. Big surprise. 

YOU PEOPLE WANT ME TO BLOG? FINE I BLOG. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET. Gosh am I ever overrated. How is this funny? 

In case you're wondering, I've going nothing to say and I'm saying it and that's poetry as I need it. ~ Some avantgarde composer.

And since I realize that only words is boring, how CAN YOU PEOPLE BE BOTHERED TO UPLOAD ALL THOSE PHOTOS? SERIOUSLY, YOU WAIT FOR 5MIN FOR EACH PHOTO AND THE FORMATTING IS RETARDED.*burp excuse me. I will never ever get you people.

Big fat purple polka-dotted revelation time:   I don't understand any of you people. How you can be so f**king normal. And it makes me sad coz ur gonna be nice functional people in society after you leave school and marry a guy or two and have 2.5 children and live in a nice house with a nice front lawn and a messy back lawn and a dog and 2 budgies and go shopping at an asian mall every weekend and buy soy sauce and dried ear fungus and cook for your 2.5 kids who you are going to send to a respectable school and they're gonna get into a nice high school and get a nice uai of 95.25 and blah blah blah. Yes, this is the way I think, and STFU who think I'm a raving lunatic because you asked for this and yes, now I'm making excuses. And yes I talk to myself at home because there's no once else to talk to and no one else that cares, and if a freaking lunatic right now, I'd say hey at least its sorta fun. 

Not.

And there's my rant. Blame hormones, period, sleepiness, whatever. Just don't blame me. 

Am I going to do one of those things where I insult people I know but I don't tell them that- yes, YOU, im insulting YOU..but I'm too chickenshit to do it face to face? Hell yeah.
Try and guess who you are
1. I want you to go to Cooks River and climb in and build a hut amount the mangrove trees and shoot the gigantic ibis that occasionally flies overhead and makes awful noises and poops on you. Yeah. SHoot they and roast them and make stew, and EAT IT, you crazy woman. 
2. If there's music in hell, you would be the DJ
3. I don't understand you
4. Nor you
5. Or you
6. Or you
7. Fuck, why are you so hypocritical?
8. I was wondering why they make glue blue, and thought you would know.
9. Who are you?
10. If life is a function, you are inverse cosx. And I envy you for it.

Well there you have it, 5 min of weird humor. I hope my service is adequate, and I have served  my purpose. Now laugh at the weird retarded wretch huddled in the corner here. 

AND BITCH, PEOPLE, BITCH. IT AFFIRMS MY EXISTENCE. 

edit: my right ear just popped. In case you wanted to know. And you do want to know, right? Because you are reading my blog? Well here. You know that my ear just popped. Do you feel satisfied, huh? Huh? HUH?!

edit 2: I just decanted my brain and came to this horrifying conclusion. I KNOW WHAT I AM. AND DO PAY ATTENTION. I AM THAT NOVELTY ITEM YOU PICK UP AT THE 2 DOLLAR SHOP THAT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING USEFUL BUT ITS SO WEIRD THAT YOU KEEP IT AROUND TO LAUGH AT OCCASIONALLY. yes.

Friday, January 16, 2009

life, et all.

Erm. Hi. It's been 2 months, and finally a new post, huh? I'd LIKE to say something zany such as 'I got over writers block', or 'I'm back from HIATUS, peoples," but the truth is- I just couldn't be f****ed to make an another blog entry. And it's not even because I'm busy, I mean I'm on holidays for god's sake. I just couldn't be f***ed.
Well anyway, this entry is the result of occasional prodding from several people (read: 2). So if you want to read more entry, you'd probably have to prod me (in person or through pestering comments of DOOM™) to get me off my fat lazy ass in order to see another entry (which I doubt)

So anyway, as you may or may not know, I spent new years in Coff's Harbour with my family and some family friends. Since I really can't think of a more interesting topic, I'll just sum up a few of the highlights of my trip:
hehe, no pictures. Partially because my internet's slow and partially because I don't have my camera with me.
15 hours of riding a car without a cd player/radio calls for desperate measures. Since our 'retro' 1996 toyota camry is oufitted with a cassette player instead of a cd player (trust me, no one sells cassette music nowadays), my parents 'solved' the problem by buying a car fm transmitter. In case you've never heard of it before, you plug it into a mp3, for example, and it sends out fm radio signals to the car radio on a particular frequency (oOoo physics). So if you match its frequency, you can play the mp3, which broadcasts the song into the car radio, acting like speakers for your mp3. 
So what's the point of the inane and lengthy explanation, you ask? Well, I don't know how close you are with your parents, but I'm guessing most of you aren't so keen on sharing your favourite playlists with your parents. It's kinda like...talking about sex with them. Well, maybe not THAT awkward, but it is kind of awkward, in a way. 
Well, some things I learnt from the car trip include:
My parents like the soundtrack from Pirates of the Caribbean (good taste, I may say so)
My dad likes Celine Dion. Yes. Shock horror. 
And Christina Aguilera's stuff. 
And random classical music. But that's no surprise.
What else not surprising is that my mum fell asleep at the start of the car trip and didn't wake up until the end. Lucky (female dog).
Oh and I forgot the mention. I got a ipod nano for christmas(yay!). Which means I actually have to label my music AND find album art now. Oh teh n0es!

2, BaNaNaS!
In case you didn't know, Coff's harbour is the home of the famous "Big Banana". Scattered around Australia are various other big things such as the big pineapple, big merino, big prawn, big cup(mmm size C or size D?) and big rolling pin. Go figure. Apparently some (sad) people actually travel all around australia taking pictures in front of every single one. o.O
Anyway, it's just a gigantic gig for tourists to visit and buy bananas. Admission fee is about $20 to watch a movie about the history of bananas on some revolutionary 3d imaging gadget (which might be cool, if only it wasn't about the HISTORY OF BANANAS), also watch a frigging hologram video about guess what? bananas, a tour of a banana plantation in the backyard of the establishment, and at the end we got free bananas! And at the end of it all we got to visit a banana museum with all these interactive banana exhibits. Zomg yay!
And what's even more sad, my folks got obsessed with those bananas and ended up buying like 5 kilos. Joy. 


3. Is it just a coincidence, or is there something wrong with me?
During our little trip, I've noticed something weird. And it seriously pissed me off. First night- we ate at Hungry Jacks. The order came 30min later. Without the fries. 
And the next day? Bought a milkshake. They totally forgot the order.
Next day- ordered fish and chips. Came late. Again. 
So my question is...is it just a coincidence, or is there something wrong with me?

end! (for now)