DUE TO A CONTINUAL BAD DAY ALL UPDATES WILL NOT BE WRITTEN HERE, YOU JUST HAVE TO STOP BEING LAZY AND SCROLL DOWN TO SEE ANYTHING YOU HAVEN'T READ YET
Howdy y'all, I'm back. Ok, my name isn't Johnny, but that's ok, isn't it? I mean, I don't have to be called Johnny.. do I?
I digress.
So, yeah, I have blogged in a while. I have had a majorly busy schedule! I was in a production on stage, and it totally rocked! Me and my beloved were in the first scene together, I was drunk, it was beautiful. Yes, me and Jackson are still going strong, almost 2 years! (Its our anniversary is May! The 28th! Yay!)
Let me tell you about this past weekend. I have been staying with my good ol' sis, she is getting old, she turned 20 this week!! Hee hee. So yeah, late nights and high speed internet, it was just one big blur. And then last night a poker party, i won the practice hand, but sucked at the rest.. poor ol' me. But I went to bed at 2am, and thengot out of bed at 5:30am. Hooray for 3.5 hours of sleep! I couldn't sleep because my sister's boyfriend was snoring, he can snore like a train, and thank god he wasn't tonight, but I just couldn't sleep, it was too hot, or too cold, and I was thirsty. You see, it's quite cool really, because the house is extortionately overpriced, and to save on heating costs, whenever someone comes over to stay, they all kip in the same bed. it's a hige bed too! Real comfy.. but I think I'm getting sick. Blerch. I don't want to be ill.. tarnation..
So now I am blogging, isn't that sad? I mean, I haven't blogged for so long now, got off the habit of clogging the internet with some other useless schlock that all teenagers write. It's so pathetic..
But I am listening to good music, a cover of '99 Red Balloons'. Damn that song is nifty! And I was tuning into some NightWish, and celtic-ky stuff and Gary Jules... now there's a musician. Takes an eighties synth-y song and turns it into an amazing from-the-heart piece of heaven....mmm. Now it's Hinder - Lips of an Angel. This song is good, and was Jackson's favourite song for a while, it's ok.. kind of depressing, but something you can slow dance to.. just don't listen to the lyrics! Hee hee!
I am feeling like a rock god right now. I could seriously go for some moshing and hard rock.. I am so fricking tired. Can't sleep.. clowns will get me.. I already freaked my sister out by trying to be quietly sneaking into the study room where her and her mate are doing an all nighter to pull off some 20 pages essays, but she turned just as I was opening the door, and she was like "Woah! All I could see was your eye!". It was kind of funny.. I guess... hee hee.. feel so sickly.. *cough cough*
And YouTube is no longer entertaining! I was surfing it to find some funny vids or some god music videos, but i forgot all the songs I liked, and the funnies wren't that funny. Damn 6am-Syndrome...
I am actually just stalling, and waiting for Jackson to come online. Yep, that's right, laugh at me. But he is staying over at a friends, and has constant access to the internet, and when he comesback from that place of video-gamers heaven, he boasts that he only got four hours of sleep and that he's still awake. Well, damnit, have you had your four hours yet???!??!?!? I am lonely. I could do with some fries right now..
Oh yeah, the fry thing.. I seriously think I am addicted to fries. Whenever I think of them I feel like I msut have some or die. And then I get the teensiest hint of a taste on my mouth and I am practically clawing at the door to get out and buy some. But they are so expensive.. and bad for you. Damn, fries are drugs! Why does bad food taste good, and good food taste gross? What a backwards way of thinking. Why don' t the healthy food people release chocolate that tastes like ass, and popcorn that reminds you of old socks? It would be so beneficial to everyone. Sure their profits would plummet in a second, but think of the gain! Then everyone would have to buy good food, like veggies or tofu, and then we'd all be a lot healthier! Why aren't I in business. I am just amazing..
*Unden Lieben Lauden Auben.. Give it to me baby!* Woop! Good song...
Hey, right this moment go to YouTube.com and search Lenore's Song by Yunyu. She's is so awesome! The video is not film, but over 16000 digital pictures! Isn't that mad? She's not very famous yet, but she totally should be!
Anyways, I must fly, like a vulture in the skies!
Bah Bye now Hun.
FINALLY!! Jeez, this page took 5 minutes to load.. holy crap.. Maybe i'll defrag the computer after i'm done.. stupid thing..
I am listening to The Smiths. If any of you (Zoe or Meaghan), haven't heard of them, they were a HUGE 80's band, and its a scientifically proven fact that if you listen to more than about 3 of their songs, you are diagnosed with Depression in a week. Their music is all about being misunderstood, and feeling generally left out, which is why they were so big in the 80's, when everyone was feeling left out and shitty. And now its into the teenage culture of today!!!
"William!! William, it was really nothing..".. also, their lyrics don't seem to make any sense. For example, songs like "Some Girl's Are Bigger Than Others", and "Girlfriend in a coma". Here's a sample of them both:
"Some girls are bigger than others,
And some girls mothers are bigger than other girls mothers.."
weird right?
"Girlfriend in a coma, i know, i know, it's serious" NO SHIT SHERLOCK!!
Here comes the first song.. rocking to the beat of flabby teens everywhere! Oh yeah, feel the rhythm of the cellulite tonight!! *jiggles seductively, we think.. we're still not sure..*
So yeah, story of my life.
Yes, its still the same night as the last entry... and still nothing is happening. I got my sister up at about 3:30am, and we made chicken noodles with chicken strips in..mmm..chickeny...i ate it with chop-sticks and a spoon...there were little spaghetti dreggy bits at the bottom of my bowl..
i am so freekin tired... but i cannot sleep.. its either to hot, or the fan is too loud, i'm afraid to turn over incase the rustling of my sleeping bag wakes up my sis in her bed across the room. I just want to sleep.... but i dont want to spend all of tomorrow.. or should i say the rest of today lying on the (very uncomfortable) floor of my sisters room asleep. I know she will probably spend all day in bed, because i kept waking her up because i kept flicking the fan on and off... so.. ya
I feel my eyelids drooping, but that may be just because i am full of noodles and chicken strips. ............. Blah..
Should stop writing stupidly uninformative blogs.. should be more interesting and witty.. can't.. quite... do it...
*slumps across keyboard, snoring..*'
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
I should sleep, its a scientific fact. It is about 1am, and i am sitting up, typing on my sisters laptop, whilst i satay at her house for two nights. I have been surfing the web, chatting to my friends.. and thinking about up-dating my blog. So i am at the last thing on my list, so i am being a good girl, setting goals and fulfilling them...
Argh
sleep...
Ok. Get this readers, this is almost like a soap opera plot line:
Mike is dating Sarah. They have been going out for nigh on seven months now. Suddenly Ethel shows up and starts liking Mike. Now, don't get me wrong, Mike is a great guy, a true friend. But Ethel wants more. She wants Mike to break up with Sarah, drop everything and run to her. Mike doesn't know how to deal with this. Sarah is getting more irate and depressed each day because she is starting to think Mike likes Ethel. And then enters Francine. Now, Francine and Sarah were friends until, according to Francine, Sarah was being a bitch to her. According to Sarah, Francine just left her, and then started being bitchy. (I believe Sarah because Francine is a well known compulsive social liar..) Francine is now in control of everything. She buddies up to Ethel, tells her that Mike wants her, and that Stephanie and Dianne (Sarahs best buds) want Mike too. Francine tells Ethel that Sarah is spreading rumours about Ethel round school..(When actual fact its Francine doing the spreading). And then she comes over to Mike, and tels him she thinks Ethel is a weird stalker, and that he should just tell her to get lost. She tells Sarah that Ethel wants to get in Mike's pants, and that Mike likes her, and doesn't like Sarah. So what can Stephanie and Dianna do? Stephanie doesn't like Mike, she hates him in fact. Dianna doesn't like Francine, but thinks Ethel can be ok when she isn't obsessing over Mike. And Sarah is stuck in the middle of all this...
I hate real like drama..
Its a real shame no one reads my blog. They could find out so much about me. But no one does, so i guess its a bonus when it comes to personal problems.
Me and jackson have hit a bad spot. He says i am so immature sometimes, he wonders why does he bother being with me. Great. Just what i need to hear before prom tomorrow. Really makes me feel pretty and ready to get over my nerves about being with people in a dress. I feel so goddamned shitty. And we have to act like nothing is wrong between us, otherwise it would make me so miserable i would burst out crying infront of whoever it was i was telling. I cried last night about it, and mom heard me. she came in to see what was wrong, so i told her i was nervous about prom. My parents dont like jackson, and it makes me so mad. They think he will rape me or something. I hate it so much. I want people to get a grip on life and keep their mouths shut. My mom thinks he and i have had sex like everytime we see eachother, which isn't true because i am a virgin, for all those people who dont read my blogs. I want to have sex, but i dont. I promised my mom i wouldnt. So why dont they trust me?? God only knows.
So i am immature. Well, the weird thing is that i have been acting immature lately, to see how far i could go before he noticed. He did notice, and just bottled it up inside of him, and then decided he was deciding whether or not i was worth it. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!
Sometimes he makes me so mad i wonder what i see in him. I'm jsut too scared to leave him i guess. But i love him. Jackson, if you're reading this: I love you, and please dont think otherwise. But sometimes i just don't understand you, and it seems you expect me to be able to read your mind or something. I feel like i have a huge wad of duct tape over my mouth, and i can only speak to you if i say "i love you" or "i'm sorry". I dont want to hurt you, i dont mean to hurt you. Please understand that. Please..
I'm too tired to cry. I hope prom goes ok tomorrow. I hope Jackson doesn't break up with me. I hope....
Bonjour
Yesd, i know i have been writing a hellova lotta blogs recently, but thats because i have nothing to do in my spare time, than use up the banmdwidth on my site. It's a strange thing, having a website, and its so nice and simple to find an audience to complain to, except there comes a point where you have nothing left to say. (Which is why most bloggers resort to mindless complaints about how "Some girl in my class put gum in my hair" or "I saw Phill at the coffee shop again, and he looked at me!") I try to be upbeat and sassy, cool, calm and collected, but yes, i do have the occassional rant (NOTE: I said rant) sometimes..well..oftenish...ok! ok, ok, most of my entries are complaints, but at least i do it in style!!!!!!
Gotta jet, Phill is due at the coffee shop anytime soon!!
I have a subject this time, a real actual subject:
TEENAGE GIRLS AND THEIR WAISTBANDS
See, it seems to be a thing, that as soon as a girl of grade 9 status wanders in through those domineering doors of highschool, suddely they gain 100 pounds, and they must crash-diet to lose it. Ok, ok, yes i have crash-dieted. I am now on a jogging regime where i run about 1.5km every night. (Its not as far as it sounds). But what is it? Right now i am slimming down for prom and for summer. (Its J's prom this year, but i shall be his guest!) But guys never see what girls see. They say you look beautful, but somehow we never feel beautiful. Some girls smother themselves in make-up to feel pretty (NOTE: I said FEEL pretty, not LOOK pretty.) Some girls where revealing clothing. Some, but not many, write poetry to feel pretty.. Some cut themselves up, some take drugs and smoke. But what is it to feel pretty?
Confidence
Yeah, you hear me. Confidence.
To have the confidence to stand up and be you. To get out there and be the best 'you' you can. To do what you want without being laughed at. No one admires someone for a face, no matter what you or they say. People like people, not clones.
hello folks,
Today i am lonely and tired. My eyes hurt because my glasses broke today - i want contacts!!!
I am freezing down here!!!
Bye!
Sup dude??
Check out the new layout, and then fact that i deleted all the shitty pages. (I'm not going to get rid of this one, i still want a website!)
I checked out 'Ice Age 2' this evening with J. It was good if not better than the first one. This one we actually had some more character development, and the fact they chose Manny (the Mammoth) as the main character was so awesome! Ray Romano is the best! He is the first comedian to have a show about him that is actually funny! I think that the Bernie Mac show is just crapola and just endorsing his crapness. Other shows like Seinfeld were good in the beginning, and then kinda faltered towards the end..
Right now i am feeling 'blah'. (Yes, that *is* the medical terminology for my condition!) I just feel like something is missing, or i am missing out on something. Its kinda like that guilty feeling you get when you don't hand in an assignment on time or something. I feel like when i sigh, it could go on forever until i run out of breath, and then i will just fall over and pass out. Its like i am in complete control of my breathing, and if i stopped, i would cease to exist and it wouldnt hurt or be a struggle, i would just float away. Its an odd feeling. In fact, when i don't breathe, my chest just gets tight, and then i figure i should start breathing, because i don't know for sure what would happen if i chose not too.
The everlasting sigh is the killer of us all...
Hello people.
I am feeling in a pretty mellow chill-out mood right now, just listening to A Perfect Circle. Although some of their songs are disturbing, i love them so much, but not to a screaming teenager band geek standard, just a perfect like for them. I dont scream everytime someone says their band name, i'm not that bad.
On last tuesday, it was mine and J's 9 monthiversary. Yes, we kind of celebrate the months, it not like we go out for dinner or anything, we just are extra cuddly that day. Mmm, he's so good at cuddling, i love him so much.
Anyway, i'd better go.
Bye!
Hello People.
It might be a snow day, so i am using my time wisely and typing a blog. The other day, me and the school band went to a competition, and me and my friend got stuck in Sears. FOR HALF AN HOUR!!! We had to ask someone to get us out! It was hilarious though!
Currently i am listening to the soundtrack from 'The Nightmare Before Christmas", that movie kicks ass!!
My week has gotten a lot better. J came over yesterday, and we went out for a super long-o walk...it was nice...plus, me and my friend found some really funny picutes on the net. if you want more, go to www.toothpastefordinner.com
Its so funny!!!
This is where my week went... down the crapper....Isnt that an awesome toilet though?? I mean, it has arm rests and a computer and everything!!
Anyway...Hello People...
I was wrong, my week got worse....but know i hope everything is going to be ok....i hope so badly!!! Hope is a good thing...right???? Please say it is.....
Oh....
But i have been on the up recently...like since yesterday...and we had loads of snow last night, resulting in a snow day for us...which is nice!!! And exmas are coming up on Friday, meaning i will never have to sit in that science classroom, with the teacher who hates me ever again!!!! Hooray!!!
I like hope..
Hoping is fun!!!
Its like..its like thinking dirty thoughts, but no one yells at you for mentioning what you thought about!! Hooray!!
Hello Fans...(or maybe its just me re-reading my blogs to make me feel special..)
This week has been a BAD week...and by BAD i mean BAD!!!
I will cut the crap...and not tell you anything except MY WEEK SUCKED!!
But then it got better, and i think i am beginning to be on the up now. Nothing worse could happen...
I hope....
I was going to write a long whiny blog about how much my teacher hates me....but then i decided not too...
Remember kids, we are all human, and are allowed to hate people we teach for no good reason.
Because it's like, normal, you know....
Yeah...
Normal......
Hmmmmm......
Hello people. Happy 2006 for you! I hope you had a blast over the new years and didnt get too drunk.
I had a brill time, if you were wondering, and i was having a brill time even if you didnt ask!
I went to J's house and it was superiorly cool. His parents were on hanky-panky watch, as usual, but we were good little girls and boys and didn't do anything....=) I got tipsy on 3 glasses of champagne and 1 glass of baileys. Mmmmm..baileys... But it was funny, because J doesn't drink, so he took it as his duty to get my up the stairs and to look after me in my intoxicated state...really all i couldn't do was walk in a straight line...or up the stairs...or brush my teeth without falling in the sink..meaning J had to hold me up. I was trying to tell him how hard it was to put thoughts into actions, whilst accidentally hitting him in the face about five times with my drunken gesticulations!
On January 1st 2006, i got 2 hours of sleep and not a hangover!! I was a happy bunny. J had lost his brother during the night, and we found him sleeping on the couch after his inflatable mattress had deflated. Poor guy. So we watched some 2006 TV, which incidentally is just as bad as 2005 TV!
Well, i hope you had a good one guys.
And yes! I know you are asking WTF?? to my WBDDTTSK, but all will be revealed...soonish...
Yes, I strike back again with the amazing film camera, as me and my far-out friends plan to make another wild, weird and wacky-tobaccy fun filled adventure! The title, of course, was thought up by me, with the aid of my friend who has this thing with saying "Bob Dole" at the strangest moments. But this will actually be a full-scale movie! We will have a lighting director, and sound, and more than ONE camera! Yeah, with the help of yet ANOTHER friend...gee so many friends!
Well, i will givemore away when filming starts...about Fridayish!
Ciao!
Heya guys.
I'm just gonna tone this one down a little, you know, light some candles, set the mood, a little romantic music....
Today was an okish day, despite one pervy moment...but let's skip that track. Imagine this, i am sitting on the bus, just nattering away to my friend...i was probably complaining about preps and how much i dislike them...(i always talk about that) when my friend turns to me, smiles and says:
"You know, you should write a book or something, or a screenplay, you're so damn funny!"
Guys, i'm gonna be truthful here - My heart sang.
Being called funny (just 'funny', not 'funny-looking') has been one of my dreams since starting school. I remember walking into the kindergarten classroom, and some guy is waltzing round the classroom, making everyone else laugh. He went past me, and i couldn't help but giggle. I didn't know what is what about him that made people laugh, but it worked! After that, the questions plagued my mind. What was it that made people laugh? I tried it once or twice, but they weren't laughing at... well, they were laughing at me, but more on the malicious side rather than the 'i was making them laugh' one. After that i was discouraged...there should be a school for wannabe comedians! A school where it promotes fooling around, and tests to see what reactions you get out of people. I'm not talking about pranks and practical jokes, because they are just so LAME, but like real comedian-like stuff. Stand-up comedy. Man, i really envy those guys who can stand up there, after weeks of practising the same old routine over again and STILL make it funny! They must be really intelligent to look at the faceless masses and generally pick out flaws in their personalities and make them laugh. They aren't laughing at the comedian, they are actually laughing at themselves saying to their neighbour "It's so true!"
How i envy those men and women who put themselves on the line just to make people laugh. I can kind of do it for my friends, but they have to know the kind of people i am complaining about. Thats another thing, the comedians complaing about everyone - without making it sound like they are! It's an amazing talent!
Anyways, back to me. I was discouraged after a while, and decided if i couldn't make people laugh..i guess i would have to get them to hate me. Well, realistically, i didn't say that, but thats what it seems like now. I was a toffee nosed, stuck up brown noser. I really was! I would come home from school everynight and complain about 'that Thomas Patterson' who farted during math or something. "Some people are really immature" i would say. In fact...i think i was the immature one. I grew up too fast. I am still too serious now, but i thought if i hit maturity fast, that means only a few more years till senility, then my childishness will return...as will the need for diapers...eesch
Anyhoo, so yeah. My life story. I realised today that i want to make people laugh. And i can do it with my friends...now all i need to do is brainwash therest of the world...
THIS PIECE WAS AWARDED MERIT FOR MOST USE OF DOT-DOT-DOTS...
Hello fellow avid readers.
I promised you a new blog, and a new blog i will give you!
The Fine Art Of Musing Aloud.
Ever mused aloud? Think of the consequences. Were they good? Or were they bad? I persoanlly think that musing aloud should be banned. Ok, i know i haven't persuaded you just yet, but just gimme a sec, ok?
Example A:
Bob walks into the store. He sees Mary. She a pretty blonde, about 5'5, long legs, nice face. Bob thinks "Mmm...She's hot!", and then finds him saying it! Mary overhears, smiles. They both walk out, arm in arm, into the sunset to begin a happy life together.
Nice isn't? Well...
Example B:
Bob walks into the store. He sees Mary. She a pretty blonde, about 5'5, long legs, nice face. Bob thinks "Mmm...She's hot!", and then finds him saying it! Mary overhears, smiles, beats him senseless with her purse and then sues him for sexual harrassment.
Not a pretty picture is it? Thought so...it gets worse....
Example C: (C is for Crappy)
Bob walks into the store. He sees Mary. She a pretty blonde, about 5'5, long legs, nice face. Bob thinks "Mmm...She's hot!", and then finds him saying it! SIMON overhears, smiles, and then teases Bob about it for the rest of his days.
See, you're not quite so hot about musing aloud now eh? Told you so. Well, just to add insult to injury, here is the final straw:
Example D: (D is for Doubly crappy)
Bob walks into the store. He sees Mary. She a pretty blonde, about 5'5, long legs, nice face. Bob thinks "Mmm...She's hot!", and then finds him saying it! Mary's boyfriend Bruno overhears, smiles and then beats the living hell out of him.
MUSING IS DANGEROUS AND SHOULD ONLY BE DONE IN THE PRESCENCE OF A PROFESSIONAL!!!!
Heya guys. This entry is going to be in the style of other blogs sites that i have visited. I will just bore you whilst talking about what i did over the last few days and then complaining about how little there is to do here...
The other day i visisted friends, went to school...had a blast i suppose. Had a fog day on Friday...joy of joys! I had a test to do...eesch.
And just now i cut my lip on a chewing gum packet, the tablet kind, i was trying to get all the foil off it..with my teeth..owee..
I miss my boyfriend, admittedly i havent seen him since .... yesterday....but somethings cropped up so i really want/need to see him.
Man, this must be really boring for all you viewers..
Sorry
lol
Welcome to my life...hee hee
I have a thing for chewing gum, i chew a pack a day, i am like a frickin addict man! But i ran out the other day....so i have been trying to get the foil off my empty ones to stop me from biting my nails...which resulted in me having to stop due to cut lip..so i resorted to biting my nails..lol
Hee hee
You know why i like to chew gum?
Cos there's nothing to do round here......
Control. Everybody wants it, and everybody’s fighting for it. But it’s not control over others that we’re fighting for; it’s for control over ourselves. We feel that there is always someone who is trying to get hold of what little control we have. We feel safe with the control, and I understand, I really do.
There are some people who want people to tell them what to do because they think that they would get the task wrong if they attempted to complete it by their own instruction, they think so little of themselves that they couldn’t come up with such a good idea, so they have to have someone tell them what to think. These people are categorized under “Vegetables”. They are only here because one night two people got friendly, and therefore they exist. There was no amazing plan thought out for them, and so they fulfill that to the last drop. But underneath their submissive exterior lies an eternal struggle the struggle for control. The Vegetables want to have control, but are afraid that it would make them seem narcissistic.
The art of ‘Blowing Ones Own Trumpet’ and it’s not what your gutter-dwelling minds think (It means Boasting.) has been a blot on the page of human existence forever. I think it all started when Jesus went around saying that he was the Son of God, and we all know what happened to him. (That’s sympathy by the way.) See, the general public like you as you hand them over a large wad of cash saying “I can only do this because I’m an amazing guy/the inventor of cheese flavoured bubble gum/President Bush (Take Your Pick).” But they’ll talk about you behind your back (So I guess, if you think about it, that’s in front of your face then…) when you get superseded by some hotshot from
You see, dear readers, that in a dominative/submissive relationship, which is the way of life for humans, there is only one winner. There is only one group with the control over everything. These are the people who sit back and watch the show, letting every Tom, Dick and Harry entertain them, but as soon as it gets boring, poor old Tom is pulled off the stage by a shepherds crook. These people are power incarnate. These people play with our emotions, making us feel really good when they buy our product, and yet can throw us down, trample on our hearts, minds and dreams as soon as they say it doesn’t appeal to them any more. The game got boring after a while. Sorry.
Those lucky submissives…………….
Oops, I just farted.
If you are:
a)Below the age of twenty,
b)Over the age of thirty, and male
you are probably giggling right now. Like me. I don't understand why, when people let one off, we have been brainwashed to say "Pardon me" or "Excuse me" or "Sorry". Why? It's just a bodily function, it's like apologising for breathing too heavily, or coughing. And who honestly cares? Is someone actually going to turn around to you and say "No, I won't pardon or excuse you, so just stuff that load of methane back from whence it came!" And do you find that, when you're lucky enough to do a silent one, in public you still mutter "Pardon me" or "Excuse me" or "Sorry"? And really only old women are insulted, because when they were young no one ever did it becuase farts weren't invented then, and if they were they were probably beaten with a stick with a nail in the end everytime they let one out. But the art of 'Letting one go' has been refined over the years. Books have even been written about it. For example: 'Farts and their uses volumes 1,2 and 3', By I. Letwongo. 'Man made heating and jacuzzis', By B. Igstink. 'Bathtime fun', By Bub Belsbetweandanees. There have been poems written about them; the bean songs are very popular in this catergory. And there are different types, the 'loud-but-proud' ones, the 'silent-but-deadly' ones that kill everyone in the room, the 'squeakers' that make people laugh so much, 'raspberries' are quite popular with the younger generations and of course no one can forgetthe painful 'Hedgehog fart'. (The North American version of this species is called the 'Porcupine Parp'.) Each of them have their own stories and myths attached to them, campfire songs are written with the essence of 'trump' in mind, its all quite romantic actually.
And yet, everyone thinks its disgusting......
Imagine if no one farted. Everyone would be like a HUGE balloon......ready to explode. And there would be reports on the news that people exploded in public, and that they had to call in the ECS ( Explosion Clear-up Squad). And the world would be bereft of methane gas. The world would be a barren wasteland because of the lack of methane, see, farts make the world go round!
But now stop for a second and think about if we farted continously, non stop, for the whole of our lives. We would have invented space travel faster with the explosive gas to power the rockets. We would be so technilogically advanced it wouldn't be true. People would be employed in fart gathering plants, for the good of the world. Homes would be heated with fartpower energy! But the world would be a barren wasteland because of too much methane in the atmosphere, and we would all be dead.
So, remember this the next time you let one go, and don't think "Pardon me" or "Excuse me" or even "Sorry", think "Ready, Aim, FIRE!"
Aren't home movies the greatest? The greatest embarrassment, the greatest worry of every twenty year old before their twenty-first birthday, the greatest laugh, the greatest sentimental value..etc. But what about the time when you were a teenager when you got interested in making your own movie: planned, plotted ad schemed. You get all excited whilst you begin the plot line, writing out pages of possible endings, twists and turns. You gather your friends together, write the script (the writing usually happens in the middle of the night so it becomes more humorous and stupid than serious and brilliant) And then the filming date comes closer and closer. You run around madly finding costumes made out of old school play ones, props made out of a 'Fairy Liquid' bottle and lighting equiptment (your bedside light).
You lie awake at night and invision yourself walking down the red carpet at the Oscars, getting the award for best film director. You imagine your speech: " Thank you for this prestigious award. I remember the time I was about fifteen and I made my first home movie. We were lucky on the day that Russel Crowe and Clint Eastwood saw us filming, and they asked us if they could help out and join in. What a day that was..."
You dream of celebrity and fame and the morning takes ages to tick round. You wake up, exhausted through lack of sleep, and then everyone starts to arrive. Before you have begun, the task seems mammoth, and you can see that the vision of a movie epic has just thrown itself out of the window in despair, and yet you soldier on. The camera is set, the lights are on, ACTION! The scene begins with your friend witnessing your murder (You need to be killed off so that you have a camera man.) she screams as the ketchup pouring from your chest begins to spatter over the cling film covered walls. She begins to heroically fight back the giggles, but succumbs and laughs away her exit. You begin to choke on your laughter, snorting into the pillow you were smothered with and there goes your chance at a serious movie. After that, everything falls apart. The poster at the news studio falls off the wall, making the newsreader howl with laughter. A brief earthquake happens in the court trial as the camera man can't control herself through laughing. See, it's chaos.
At the end of the day, you all sit down and watch it, laugh at the bloopers and go home tired. And what is it for? Fun? Serious work experience? To be someone else for a while? Exactly! The last one hits it on the head. What people in this world, today, want to do is to be someone else, even just for a little while. That's what little kids do at recess in the playground, except they pretend to be older becuase they are fed up with the labels that come with being about six. They want freedom and independence, as well as the rest of the world.
They play "Mummies and Daddies" because they are imitating life because they long for commitment and the chance to choose what they want for dinner when they do the grocery shopping. They want to have a house and be able to draw on the walls without their parents yelling at them. They want to invite their friends round for cups of tea and cookies whilst the husband works at the car garage. The boys want to be able to muck around in dirt and grease for money and not get yelled at. Everyone feels like they are being pressured by their elders, and everyone is. I bet even whoever created the world feels like they are under pressure from whoever rules over them. God, Buddha, Alla, Vishnu, The Goddess, The God are all being put down by the higher ranking gods. They are being put down by themselves. If there is no one to pressure them above them, we all blame it on people below us. We never blame ourselves though. But thats not my fault.
I think the best bit about going to a chinese restaurant is the end of the meal, when they bring you a hot towel, that smells faintly of lemon scented detergent, and the fortune cookie. The fortune cookie is the greatest! You eagerly await the loud crunch as you prise its sugar coated jaws open, smelling the sweet aroma of grease. You carefully and skillfully pull the parchment from its place. Your eyes skim the page. It reads: "Your TV set will break down in three years." With that valuable piece of knowledge, you feel a great weight lifted from your shoulders and you are enlightened on all the facts of life that your parents never told you during the "Now you have reached adolescence, there are some changes you need to know about your body..." talk. And the best bit about the whole fortune cookie business is that if you don't like what it says, you can throw it away and pretend it never happened. Or if you find one on the table from the customers before you that you quite like, for example : "You will win a lot of cash, spend it on a mansion and a holiday in Malibu.", you can keep it in your wallet and tell everyone that that was your fortune, told to you by a cookie.
But, you realise after summing up the pros, that there might actually be some cons to this amazing pysic phenomena. Like, if you hadn't picked that one off the tray, would the fortune still be the same? Or are they just lies? Do they actually come true? Is there a sweat shop underneath the restaurant that hides forty thousand illegal immigrants, sweating over a typewriter, typing onto tiny weeny pieces of paper, and then having to surgically implant them into the unsuspecting cookie? Do the cookies mind? Do food products have souls? Will my TV set break down in three years? If so, can I sue? If I don't win any money anytime soon, can I sue for that? Has anyone ever sued over a fortune cookie? If so, was it an American? (Although the answer is probably guessable for that one.) Was the court case featured on Jerry Springer? If so, where can I get the episode? And so on........
It's hard, I know, to stop this string of thoughts.But don't you find that, in thinking these thoughts, your hot towel gets cold and clammy and the cookie is being ever increasingly eargerly looked at by other members of your group and indeed the restaurant? JUST CUT THE THOUGHT PROCESS AND EAT! You can think all night about suing the company, but what matters now is eating, EAT EAT EAT EAT! Never stop stuffing it in until you feel it begin to pile up in your throat! Just eat, then think. And if you eat forever, you will never think again........the shame.....
I DON'T NOT INTEND FOR VIEWERS OF THIS SITE TO TAKE MY SICK HUMOUR SERIOUSLY, NOT OFFENCE IS INTENDED.
The question had often presented itself to me when I was a small child. What did I want to be? At the time, the possibilities seemed endless, an astronaut, a vet, a hairdresser, a teacher. Everything. But never once did my stomach crumple up like an imploding brown paper bag when someone asked me, until now. Now I can't just say "I'll be....an animal trainer", or "I've always wanted to be a neurosurgeon". I have to actually stop and THINK about it. These days you can't just blurt out any old thing, especially when you are being introduced to say, your boyfriends parents, or something. You have to come up with something thoroughly thought-provoking, and yet not too either ambitious or unheard of.
Also, your talents must be taken into account. If you are a brainbox at english, and are terrible at math, and you say that you want to be a mathetician working for NASA, the person you are talking to usually smiles and says "Oh really. What an interesting choice." Or in normal english translation "You haven't got a chance in hell, heck! Even a chocolate fire extinguisher in hell has more of a chance than you do. I can't believe thats what you want to do with your life! Ha! You have fun with that! Hee hee! A mathematician! What a hoot!" See, that's what goes one behind those little smiles, the kind of smiles where the happiness hasn't spread to warm their cold, laughing eyes. The kind of smiles that, if they over do it for too long, make you feel uncomfortable like you are in the prescence of some strange murderer who is psycing himself up before the kill.
But even contemplating university has my stomach riding the super-dooper-looper rollercoaster. I mean, what courses to take, which university to choose, SO MANY QUESTIONS, SO LITTLE TIME! And you know, with sinking heart, that on the day that you pick your courses, you are having a weird day and you choose random things like 'Tibetan for beginners', 'Animal psycology' and 'Care and maintenance for your pet Komodo Dragon'. (These courses are usually at the back of the book, filed under 'JUST FOR THE ONES WHO ARE HAVING A FUNNY FIVE MINUTES.') But you never realise until the day before you start that it was a mistake. You lay awake at night, trying to remember whether or not you put you inflatable rubber ring in your suitcase, or if your can opener is electric or analog. Then your mind begins to wonder if a non-electric can opener is called an analog can opener. Finally, with the thoughts of all the evil things that come in cans just fading from your mind, you are finally ready to sleep. But then, you sit up and scream "I DON'T WANT TO BE A TIBETAN SPEAKING KOMODO DRAGON PSYCOLOGIST!" But there is nothing you can do, except lie there, with that sinking feeling of guilt swelling in your gut, making you feel so sick its not true. And when you do finally fall asleep, your dreams are plagued with the images of Komodo dragons sitting on a Freudian couch telling you their problems in Tibetan, and you wake the next morning with a headache and a strange desire to eat curry.
So, you survive the years of university, and find that you do have quite a talent for recognising the begininng signs of depression in mice, and pronunciations of Tibetan vowel sounds, not to mention your meticulously clean Komodo Dragon. And now you're free, you've graduated and you are now officially independant. This shine soon wears off when you find yourself looking through the job vacancies page at the back of the sunday newspaper, seriously thinking about being an on-call chicken catcher. This poses a question: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" After years of expert research, I have come to the conclusion that we need to establish when we actually have 'grown up' before we start looking for the solution to the original query. But until we find that answer, I'm going to go off and play neurosurgeon with Maggie next door.
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