Conspiracy.

I don't how something so popular and crucial to the survival of the human race could disappear, just like that, without anyone noticing.

Maybe it got too big and so the corporations had to shut it down.

or Maybe it imploded from a great expansion in mass.

Now, every November 21st we must ask.

Where have aquarium screensavers gone?

Dear Prudence

Dear Internet,

May I please request you to refrain from writing letters to things not of a tangible nature.

This includes, but is not limited to:

Dear School, I like totally hate you.

Signed, dumb slag.

Internet, why do you hurt me so?

Love, Duke Scrotum-Face IIX

This is for your benefit as well as mine.

Sincerely,

Rory Stuart Ross Parker

Please note: when SkyNet takes over the second example will of course be acceptable.

Euthanasia.

I'm very pro-choice.

If someone wants an abortion, then golly gosh, they should be allowed.

And if someone is in pain, then I think it should be their right to decide.

But such a decision should be taken away in at least one case.

People who pronounce Target 'Tarjé' are deserving of being Euthanised, whether they have a death-wish or not.

The moral of this story?

Stop being wankers.

It's true.

"Cold showers? They're for psychotics."

(Alexander 1995, Seinfeld)

and on the seventh day...

Driving through Brisbane one can notice one thing.

The many, many churches scattered through.

I'd have absolutely no problem with this if not for the sickeningly awful signs out the front of each one.

"Brush up on your bible, it prevents truth decay"

"7 days without prayer makes 1 weak"

"Become an organ donor, give your heart to god"

"Lost? Use GPS - God's Plan of Salvation"

Eugh.

Signs like that don't convert me, but rather divert me.

They aren't funny and they aren't cute.

They aren't informative and they aren't clever.

So why.

They make me feel like Job.

The one church sign I can stomach.

Snippy snippy

As I'm sure you would have noticed, I hate everything.

One thing I hate more than most, is haircuts.

I got one today which, as usual, resulted in me looking like Elton John.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (and farewell good looks)

The hairdressers always attempt to give me a homosexual style; sweeping over the fringe, and gellin' up the back.

It doesn't suit me at all, but I guess it looks okay.

The factor not taken into consideration by the hairdresser, is that I'ma lazy turd.

Never am I going to product up my hair.

Never am I going to touch my hair.

So, this odd style sits flat on my oddly shaped head.

Now, rather than being Elton John's lovechild;

I look like Boris Karloff's incarnation of Frankenstein's monster.

Sitting in that chair, under the gay little apron (henceforth known as a gaypron), with my hair wet and combed over, I feel vulnerable.

If I were to be attacked by a minion of my nemesis, how would I be able to counter-attack?

That chair.

Its emasculating.

Like rather than cutting my hair they are cutting, well you know…

And the hairdressers can sense this.

Like a dog, hairdressers can smell fear.

So, they feel it necessary to spray a little water into my eyes, or blow-dry the crap out of my face.

The cruel, heartless twats.

I don't like talking to hairdressers and yet, for some reason, they want to know every detail of my personal life.

What school do you go to?

How old are you?

Doing anything rad today?

All of the above can be answered with two words.

Piss off.

Competitive wankers.

Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise how talented you were.

NRL, AFL, Soccer and every other competitive sport possible, you play in.

Oh you don't?

Then why is it every bloody monday I have to put up with you telling us all about how your team won.

'Say, how'd the Bombers go on the weekend?'

"Mate… We bloody well won!"

'Struth, mate!'

Wankers.

That yellow bastard.

Film is a delicate piece of material.

When in possession of film you must follow three simple rules:

1. Film is not to bent

2. Film is not to be stored within certain temperate regions; and

3. Film is not to be exposed to sunlight.

Three simple rules; and yet for some bizarre reason people must be failing these?

That's the only way I can explain the growing trend of yellow photography being uploaded to facebook.

It can't be because people think it looks good, for it doesn't.

It's not polaroid, well it might have been originally, but its been changed.

People who take digital shots must be storing their photos in really well-lit folders.

Three simple rules.

And you broke them.

So, you get nothing.

You lose.

Good day Sir.

I SAID GOOD DAY

;)

"[…]The winking face is the mark of a moron"

(Bird 2008, The Inbetweeners)

Heads down. Thumbs up.

I hate walking.

More so, I hate walking past people.

When a person approaches you head on you have two choices.

1. Smile, and acknowledge by saying, "muhm"

or

2. Find something more interesting to look at and stare at that.

This may include a mobile telephone; or more commonly, feet. I have a suspicion that random passer-bys think I must have an autoerotic foot fetish, for my feet are a loved Point of Interest to stare at.

Poor Marty Feldman only had option 1 available.

I prefer walking towards someone head on, then from behind.

I find that I walk slowly, yet as soon as there is someone in front of me I feel the need to speed up.

And yet, I cannot.

If I choose to overtake, I look and feel like a massive wanker.

Olympic Speed Walker Style: Engaged.

colon, close brackets.

MSN has killed grammar.

Just look at this blog for God's sake.

Grotesque, disjunct sentences.

Improper use of capital letters in titles.

And even starting sentences with 'and'.

How dare me.

MSN speak, if necessary, should be limited to the internet.

You sound like a twat saying 'LOL', 'ROFL' and 'Smiley-face'.

I caught myself doing it the other day.

Upon realisation, I confined myself to 'the machine' from the Princess Bride (Best. Movie. Ever.) for several days.

I even went so far as to turn it up to 5

to finally find what it does to a man.

People over the age of 30 shouldn't be allowed on social networking services such as MSN and facebook.

For some reason, passing your twenties means that rather than just adding a comment you add an essay.

Instead of one question mark, you put twenty.

Returns can be replaced by '……………..'

And rather than the standard emoticons, such as :) and :P you feel the need to add a nose.

Only add a nose if you wish for :-| to symbolise Roman Polanski.

…and what's the deal with airline food?

I hate planes.

Why is that they can spend billions of dollars designing an aero-dynamic wonder, yet they can't give you leg room.

Bastards.

And to top that off, they allow the seats to recline?

Dirty bastards.

Seriously, what sort of douche thinks that they are all high-and-mighty enough that they can recline?

Dirty, rotten bastards.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've spent about 30 hours in the air.

You can call me the Red Baron.

But due to my unfortunate skin tone that could be taken as rude and offensive.

So watch your tongue, you insensitive ass.

...so call me Charlie Lindbergh instead.

Anyway, these flights led me to China.

What bizarre people.

Everywhere I went they'd be coming up to me asking for photographs.

That's like if I went up to some random asian at the shops and asked 'for photograph'.

I didn't know this blog was so popular.

Lemon, lime and bitches

Warm Friday afternoons are when an ancient evil is awoken.

The bogan.

I really hate the people who sit on facebook asking about open-house parties for the coming weekend.

They think they're cool but…really?

Not enough friends to invite them out, not enough life to entertain themselves at home.

I believe it relates to the freudian theorem of 'daddy issues'

Parties are overrated anyway.

The majority is just dumb little skanks drinking as much cordial (0.00001% alcohol) until they throw up.

You're cool.

Everyone knows that lemon, lime and bitters is the goddess of the fluid kingdom.

Being for the Benefit of Your Ears.

I'll admit it, I never really liked the Beatles until about two years ago.

But that's because I'd never really listened to them.

All I'd ever really listened to were the songs everyone knows, 'Yellow Submarine' and 'Octopus's Garden' (which are both Ringo's for some bizarre reason).

Now listen closely my dears.

This is where your education begins.

The Beatles are amazing. Its that simple.

Whatever sort of song that you feel like, they've done.

Feel like an Angus and Julia Stone-esque song? - Listen to Julia and Blackbird right this instant.

City and Colour? - I've Just Seen a Face is where its at. (Same chord sequence as 'the girl', just up a tone)

Foo Fighters? - Helter Skelter is the song for you.

When I first started my renaissance of Beatles listening the first songs I fell for were Can't Buy Me Love and All My Loving. But, due to their amazing cattledog of songs could have a new favourite each week!

Having just finished last week's love for LSD-induced songs (I am the Walrus and Being For the Benefit of Mr Kite) this week's favourite is George's I Me Mine.

The vocals change so much too, Norwegian Wood is soft and pleasant, as opposed to the powerful Why Don't We Do It In The Road?, Twist and Shout and Yer Blues.

Its crazy how amazing they are really. According to Guinness World Records, the song with the most cover versions ever is Yesterday. And their songs even sound good in other languages. Across the Universe has a Sanskrit chant, and the fab four themselves even recorded two songs in German, I particularly love the German version of 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'.

When you go to JB tomorrow to buy every Beatles album recorded, I suggest you don't start with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Its an amazing album, don't get me wrong, but its a wee bit crazy. Listen to A Day in the Life and you'll see what I mean. Walk before you can run.

So Hey Bulldog, I Want You to Help! yourself and listen to the Beatles, because that's all you need.

Here comes the sun, for I've shown you the light.

Listen my pretties, and fall in love.

*26 songs linked to, have fun kiddos.

__________

I know a lot of people won't like this post, as it is no way humorous and just may not appeal to your tastes.

But that's because you suck.

rb-b is the bible, and this man is god.

Holy Jehova's Testes, Batman!

History is rubbish.

I hate the History Channel.

Lordy lord its dull.

Even their narrator's awesome monotonic annotations cannot save these godawful programs.

There are always shows about archaeological digs in Britain where they find a house next to a major city, or some other junk from many a year ago.

Now, is it just me or does this show that our ancestors were filthy litterers with a complete and utter disrespect for our dear, sweet Earth?

Surely someone would walk past a half-buried necklace, and take it, rather than watch it sink further into the ground daily.

And more so, a friggen house.

How can a town full of people not notice a neighbour's house half submerged in the dirt? Maybe everyone born pre-1900 was actually just a hobbit, so these houses engulfed in grass would just fit in.

To ensure that nobody finds your collection of Star Wars action figures in 500 years time - recycle, bitches.

Just a question..?

Howard, you know the black bits in bananas… Are they tarantula's eggs?

(Fielding 2004, The Mighty Boosh)

Thanks for the add, bitch.

I hate it when people say thanks for the add.

Which party is supposed to say it though, the requester or requestee?

I've seen both.

And it sods me off.

Manners are sexiful, but thanking someone for clicking 'confirm' is a load of wank.

Unless Grace Kelly accepts your request.

Then, thank like a bitch.

If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It - Why Don't You People Listen!?

*As you can tell I started this post ages ago (26 June), but got bored - so half was written just after the incident, the rest just now (13 July).*

Last Wednesday night I was watching ABC to see the review of Toy Story 3 on At the Movies (A film I will die if I do not see soon).

Half way through a review of a French Indie film, the picture rewound and then froze.

I had no idea what was going on, and then the image cut to a stage, on which our Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd was set to speak.

Now I like complaining just as much as the next person (probably even more so as you would know from reading this blog), but I think that ol' Ruddy was doing okay.

I've always liked Julia Gillard, but I can't say I'm glad that Australia's first female Prime Minister is the result of stabbing Ruddin the back.

She seems to be good enough, but I don't think I'll ever get over her two major flaws.

1. Her appearance.

She isn't ugly, but every time I see her I can't help but notice that she is obviously the result of Miranda (from my beloved Sex and the City) and the mayor of Whoville's sweet lovemaking.

that nose. wow.

2. Her voice.

My god, how can international politics take Kath from Kath and Kim seriously? We don't all sound like that, right?

Both of these flaws are extremely relevant to the advancement of her political career.

Tell me I'm wrong.

_______________________

p.s. I saw Toy Story 3 - jinkies gang, was that good or what?

If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It

Roll over, Beethoven.

Step away, Einstein.

Roll slowly away in your electric wheelchair, Hawking.

(And while you are at it, wipe the drool from around your mouth)

There's a new genius in town.

After ages of stuffing around in crappy online tutorials, I finally was able to do three things for this blog.

The first thing I achieved was to create a logo for the blog:

A room full of geniuses working non-stop for a month with photoshop,

or a bored child with 5 minutes and MS Paint?

Yes, I really did make the second B into a beard.

Genius.

The next thing I did, was to make that into a favicon - you know that little picture next to the URL in your browser?

Genius.

The third thing I did was added a facebook 'like' thingy into my posts.

So rather than reading on the homepage, click the title of the post and read it.

From there you can click 'like' to make me feel warm and gooey inside.

Genius.

Adequate Dress for Counting Sheep

Why are pyjamas so taboo?

The other day I was at work and I saw a woman and daughter in their PJs at the store next ours.

I looked at them wondering if either of them was a bit spesh' and to my knowledge they were a-ok.

I saw other people wondering the same which made me think - why is it so weird to see people in their jim-jams?

They cover all the bits, keep you warm and are the most comfortable item of apparel in your wardrobe.

This is just my skirt argument all over again.

Anyways, I want a onesie.

I've been tossing and turning about which type to get, and I think I'm going to finally order a red one.

My favourite onesie online store is one place I believe noone would be able to hold a straight face.

To my dismay, my favourite pose seems to have been discontinued (green), so I shall have to settle with the confident red:

For the confident incontinent adult: now with bumflaps.

Having a good chuckle to myself, I typed in 'onesie' into googleimages.

After clicking through innocent pages of onesies I finally stumbled across:

Babes with Bumflaps XXX

Really?

__________________________

Edit:

Searching across the site I finally found that green has in fact not been discontinued, but moved from the men's area to fleece.

Why can't it remain in both?

Without further ado:

Gangsta Green

Heterosexual Fornication and the City

How momentous.

As it stands according to Boxofficemojo, Sex and the City 2 has currently raked in $184 920 481 in the worldwide box office.

How splendid.

Sure, its going to fall very short of the first movie's $415 252 786 worldwide takings, but considering it only cost $100 000 000 to make, raking in $85 million that quickly is pretty good.

How swell.

On the topic, I'll tell you how much I liked Sex and the City.

On a scale of World News Australia to Breaking Bad, I'd give it a Danoz Direct.

That's how much I hate it.

Absolutely goddamn terrible show.

Let's list the shows good points:

#1. Rather jolly theme tune.

#2. -

And now, lets list the bad points:

#1. Characters - Holy crap, can you write anybody more hateable? Why would I want to watch selfish, middle-aged women brag to the others about how selfish and middle-aged they are?

I really can't be bothered writing every point I hate about the show, as it would take my blog's entire front page (and I'm sure you don't want to read it) so I'll skip to what I hate about it the most;

#86479. The vulgarity and hypocrisies this creates - Now I've watched my fair share of crazy things and grown somewhat of an immunity, yet Sex and the City still somehow repulses me. Several women I have spoken with have said that they were disgusted by films that I have thoroughly enjoyed, such as Clerks and Knocked Up who love the god-forsaken show. They reason that the aforementioned films are vulgar and sexist. Now, do tell how is a little sex-talk (and no explicit acts) worse than a show which episodes revolve around, organising three-somes, dildos and - wait for it -

… That ain't apple juice

- a urine fetish. For the love of the anti-christ, how can a urine fetish be a substantial plot element for a prime-time show loved by millions? To address the sexism, how can a film, for example Knocked Up about a 'smart' woman and 'bumbling bafoon' of a male character - who may talk about pussy a little (which is referred to on multiple occasions in Sex and the City as that dreaded word that rhymes with punt - my ears hurt just thinking about it) sexist as opposed to a show where the women spend their days discussing how they stuck it to the (objectified) man.

I'm not saying that there are no sexist shows against women, or even that there is equality in the industry - far, far from it - (see: this article), but hypocrisy sickens me.

And thats coming from a hypocrite.

How hypocritical.

Anonymously creepy.

Formspring is gay.

There, I said it.

I am yet to stumble across a formspring page on which the person has not gotten into a fight or been abused.

With every cross comes a few ticks, though.

Formspring is genius as it allows for manyhours of entertainment.

Not only can you stalk people by scrolling down their profile, you can ask them your deepest desires.

But that's not what I do.

Oh no.

I prefer to just try and be creepy.

If you're ever on a page and it says something simple such as "i lvoee your scent" (mistakes intentional) or "why did you throw out that apple after onlyfour bites, it tasted fine. the taste your lips gave it made it even better" (this is of course following an observant day) it was probably my boredom.

The thing is, when someone posts anonymously, the person whose page it is on wants to expect the asker to look like is hunk-a-licious.

For example, if I were to post on a girl's formspring: "Hot-dayum baby, you are yummy. Want to hook up?" the chick would be imagining the person to look like:

Exhibit A.

Now, posting "Watching you walk to your next class. Hoping you walk past so I can smell your sweet odour" will instantly make her feel cautious about all posts. Now rather than everyone appearing as Clint she would see Orson Welles in his later years:

Exhibit B - Please note: creepy old man beard

Dreams of a hunky lover gone.

Boredom gone.

Coinky-dink to the power of 3

This is an extraordinarily tale.

You'll probably faint, its that overwhelming.

Its taken me so long to document this because everytime I have attempted I've fallen into cardiac arrest mid sent--…..

You know that little thing called electricity that you take for granted?

This fable makes electricity about as exciting as a mule consuming wheat on a cloudy day.

The following events are real. To avoid possible head-explosion from the sheer awesomeness the subject's name has been changed to Wilfred Sampsonite.

It was a warm May afternoon.

Thursday May 6, 2010 to be precise.

Tyrone Steven Meaghan and I decided to attend Senior Options to see what it was like.

Bored, we left early and walked across to Woolworths.

Not finding what we were looking for here we decided to ride to the Strathpine branch of Sizzler, the family dining restaurant.

After being seated by a rather amusing little Irishman we began to stuff ourselves with Salad Bar.

As we sat there, looking like a homosexual couple in our pint-sized booth Tyrone pointed out a large man he noticed from the corner of his eyes.

He said what I was thinking, that he looked like Jay, from the films Clerks, Dogma and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (among others).

Jay on the top left (Silent Bob top right), and 'Wilfred Sampsonite' on the bottom

(Wilfred's identity has been protected)

Whilst we had a rather splendid day, noticing Wilfred was the high point of our day.

Anyway, whilst on an awesome scale this is an 11, the scale can be tipped further.

On the 8th of May 2010, at 00:26 a female friend of mine posted a status on facebook.

By 00:29, a man posted a reply comment.

I almost died.

For this man was Wilfred Sampsonite.

To make matters crazier, his display picture was taken that fateful day at Sizzler.

God have mercy on our souls.

Amazed, I instantly wrote a reply (aided by Tyrone), but debated replying.

On 9 May, 2010 at 22:35 I replied with the following comment.

Dear Mr Sampsonite, You have been a central part of an absolutely incredibly unlikely phenomenon that i am sure you are completely oblivious to.

On Thursday, 6 May 2010 one Tyrone Steven Meaghan and I, Rory Stuart Ross Parker attended a lunch at the Strathpine branch of the popular family restaurant chain, Sizzler.

After we were attended to by a humorous Irish fellow named **** Tyrone noticed a large feat of human perfection from the corner of his eye, and stated that he looked like Jay from the film Clerks.

I agreed.

This was quite possibly the highlight of our day.

Anyway, to cut things short, that person was you.

To our knowledge, we have never met, and yet we stumbled across you from *****s profile on facebook.

Surely there is a 100000000000 to 1 chance of this occurring, little alone us recognising you from your tiny profile photo.

Congratulations on altering my mind.

As of 7 June, 2010 at 21:00 I am awaiting a reply.

I'm dead inside.

_______________

Glad I just wasted your time making you read that?

I am too.

Rolled Quotes

Dante Hicks: "You hate people!"

Randal Graves: "But I love gatherings. Isn't it ironic?"

(Smith, 1994)

Story of my life.

You're a douche. (Parker, 2010, Online)

Don't quote yourself.

It makes you look like a jackass.

I've noticed upwards of 5 people quoting themselves on facebook, and I just encountered this foul deed when researching for an assignment.

That'd look good in an annotated bibliography: This source offers examples of the values and perspectives of others, through the use of quotes (all from the author).

It's entirely unnecessary, I know its you saying it.

Errol Flynn didn't thwart Prince John's tyrannous reign by quoting himself.

Do something more productive with your time...like collecting postage stamps.

:::…….::::..::.

Yesterday was bold and exciting for me.

For a child with no style, looking in clothing shops in the city was rather odd.

But out of all the bizarre styles and ridiculous outfits, one thing angered me.

Skirts.

Or the lack there of.

Why is it socially unacceptable for fellas to wear them?

See guys, it doesn't have to look gay!

Oh wait, bad example.

I think that the cool breeze blowing up through me bits on a warm summer day would be just delightful.

The only problem I can see is with the confusion such a fashion would cause with public bathroom signs.

Speaking of public bathrooms, last time I was out and about I noticed something ridiculous.

Outside, on the wall was braille which I am assuming said 'male'.

The ridiculous thing is that they expect that a blind person could find this?

After 20 minutes walking around, with your arms stretched out like the Creeper from Scooby Doo, trying to find a building there's a good chance you might have just soiled yourself.

Tooiilllett?

Let It Wash Away My Vanity

Well hey, good lookin'.

I'm in that mood where whenever you walk past a mirror you can't help but stop and check yourself out.

Oooh baby.

This is a rare occurrence for me, usually its more the 'jesus, get some style dickwit!' mood.

I have noticed however, that whenever I check myself out, I pull a face.

Mmmmm girl.

I even do it when I'm looking at myself on a window's reflection; the people inside must be thinking that I'm retarded, or from New Zealand.

What sort of person would invent the mirror?

I don't mean what sort of person invented a reflective surface, but who invented a surface, solely used for reflections.

They would have been quite possibly the vainest person who ever lived.

Sure, everybody likes looking at themselves, but to be the first person to put a piece of glass in their room, solely for viewing pleasure must have been a twat.

Imagine the conversation upon a person seeing a mirror in a house for the first time…

'Say…What's this?'

"I call it a mirror"

'What does it do?'

"Oh, you know, you can look at yourself in it"

'You certainly can. What else does it do?'

"Nothing…you just look at yourself in it."

'Ummm, okay?'

*note to self: never talk to this vain douche bag again.

Speaking of weird inventions, I'd like to know who drank cow's milk for the first time.

I mean, come on.

I assume that they were a few spoons short of a cutlery set.

I can't help but wonder if they bought the cow dinner before hand?

How's this for a business proposal?

I cultivate your lactation, and in return, give you grass.

And don't get me started on the person who invented enemas.

A Streetcar Named Praise

*Note: To keep this PG rated, expletives have been replaced by the title of a Hugh Grant film.

"You Four Weddings and a Funeral, crazy, sexy beast. What the The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain is with your horny, crazy, sexy blog? It's like you summarized every feeling I ever had and put it on the internet." (Meaghan, T. 2010)

I must agree, rb-b is pretty Did You Hear About the Morgans awesome.

Cool as a Cucumber.

I was bored this afternoon.

So I went to my local JB to pick up some Compact Discs of artists I have been enjoying lately.

Every time I walk into a store, it reminds me of how great a job there would be.

Working in a wonderland of music, films, games and computers!

siighhh.

Although I have a decent reference list, an alright report card, and a fair few extra-curricular activities I doubt that I would ever have a shot at getting a job there.

For starters, I'm happy with my current job, but I think that the major concern would be that I lack a certain quality.

Being extremely goddamn weird.

How may I help you?

All the people that work there have piercings in the most retarded of places, have black hair (possibly with a red streak?) and are the type of person that go home, turn off all the lights and crank their death metal.

At least they aren't (usually) the sort of people who listen to the music that they think is 'cool'.

I really hate that.

The people who's tastes varies each week as to what is popular.

"Today I like me some hardcore KiD CuDi, tomorrow…How about some Jack Johnson?"

I don't care if they genuinely like the music, but you can tell with the people who are just being sheep.

Anybody who has ever liked Linkin Park falls into this category.

How could anybody with ears like that band?

eugghh.

They are the sort of band which is listened to by the people who think that wearing sunglasses 24/7 is awesome.

And, if were necessary for them to take off their glasses, they think that it is absolutely badass to sit them on top of their head.

Speaking of awesome, don't you just love male hairstyles lately?

Sooo damn cool.

I'm so cool, I crap snow.

*Sarcasm

Notice how people try for the 'just gotten out of bed look'…Why don't they just leave their hair as it was after getting out of bed?

Works for me.

Well, half the time.

Rory likes this post.

Ahhhh, facebook what a magical tool.

Just like myspace, but without the skanks.

Just like twitter, but without the boring.

Pout dem lips: Pushing the boundaries of Facebook's lewdness scale.

What I hate though, is all the getting drunk groups.

You'll always notice that the people who aren't the party type join them.

And anyway, you're a wanker for joining it even if you do agree with 'Join if you love getting so drunk that you become clinically brain-dead'.

And, while I'm saying what I hate about facebook, I'd like to ask why people post stauses saying 'brb'.

That is in no way different to sending an e-mail to everyone in your address book saying:

To whom it may concern,

I'm not even talking to you right now, but I thought you might like to know that I'm going to be right back.

I understand that you had no idea that I was here in the first place, but I thought I'd tell you.

Thanks for your time.

I can't believe that I once said that facebook is gay, and myspace is way better. I mean, who could really be bothered making a nice HTML profile, when on facebook you just write all the bands and films that you like that you think others think are cool, and that you have never read a book in your life.

So, your illiterate?

Good for you.

I'm Standing on a Quote.

"Oh, he's very popular Ed. The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads - they all adore him. They think he's a righteous dude." (Hughes, J. 1986)

I must agree, the author of that rb-b seems rather gnarls.

And now a quick word from our sponsors

Why would you be reading my blog?
You're a fool.
What you should be doing is reading http://iw-av.blogspot.com/ and then reading this.
But, make sure you read this too.

Or else that'd make you a fool, too.

"iw-av: almost as good as rb-b" (Grant, C. 1948)

How was your day? Eughblarghdhfsf.

Today, was the dentist.

Most excellent.

Upon walking into the actual dental room, after a 40 minute wait in the reception I was greeted by my dentist. My usual dentist was away, and so today I had the temp.

She was small.

Very small.

Her head coming up to my nips small.

And Asian.

Very Asian.

Calling me 'Lawrly' asian.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

She was nice enough.

Anyway, after I get the rad glasses and gnarly bib on she shoves a huge clamp in my mouth to keep it open.

And wememberl to fross everyday.

Of course, after she has the clamp in my mouth, she asks me how my day was.

Naturally I replied, "Eughwhaskjflblkdskdf".

Next she gets out her instruments. Each of them look the same, each of them sound the same and each of them hurt the same.

Now, open wide.

Once that was done the hygienist came in.

What a waste of a job that is.

Seriously.

They study for how many years to teach you how to floss?

Pathetic.

What is the point of her coming in anyway, they say the same thing every time.

No matter how hard you floss everyday an hour before you go they always tell you to do it better.

I was surprised, though. She said I brush fantastically.

Top shit.

Quotey McQuote Quote

"Anyone who isn't a shyster bastard is an idiot. And anyone who is smart and nice is way too smart and way too nice. There's nobody in the middle. Either you're a fuckbag idiot or you're a pretentious blowhard." (T. Savage, 2008)

Except Bogart.

Incoherent Ramblings

Ahhhhh…

First Day Back.

How gay.

I got to see all my dumb little buddies, but then I also got to see the assholes.

As soon as I got to school I walked right into my mortal nemesis, a child who I haven't even spoken with.

I want to deathspike him.

No names, but he loves himself, feels the need to kick away any ball which enters his proximity, and walks like a goddamn duck.

You know what I love?

Caps Lock.

What an invention.

Absolute genius.

I love just cruising in caps lock for no reason.

Well, there is a reason…Its annoying to everyone reading it.

Sitting in class I often wonder what my teachers would've looked like in the 80s.

I firmly believe that my principal's hair would've been similar to Mel Gibson's in Lethal Weapon.

Exhibit a.

Beards are awesome.

Everyone knows that.

With each pubic centimetre (that's right) of beard, the awesomeness of the man increases by 2.4 on the manometer.

Ohhhhh girl, what I would do to you.

Okay, not always.

Speaking of Saddie, I just watched every goddamn episode of Arrested Development.

Watch it.

Its amazing.

Makes the godlike IT Crowd look like Antiques Roadshow.

Wait, bad example.

Antiques Roadshow is friggen awesome.

More like Two and a Half Men.

One.

It would seem that you found your way to my new blog.

A place where I shall blog amusing anecdotes, poetic phrases, picturesque photographs and just bitch about the world around me.

Currently, its the last day of the holidays, and its raining.

Thanks a lot Freyr.