It's racial prejudice, that's what it is!

If everyone's "dreaming of a white Christmas", what are all the blacks doing?

Yes, I know it's late for a Christmas post.

Go crazy. I know I will.

#!&@.

"Free": Malaysia's four-letter F-word.

A Poem.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Some poems rhyme,
But this one doesn't.

I did it for the lulz.

Classic Novel-ty.

Classics; Books that people want to be able to say they've read, but don't actually want to read.

'Tis the season to advertise. You can be jolly if you really, really want to.

This is what I've been working on instead of writing anything here*. Now that it's done, I'll have to think up a new post. Or a new excuse. And yes, I realize that there have been a lot of YouTube videos on this blog lately. But this is different. This is mine. Well, it's also Cedric's. But also mine!



*Notice how I cunningly shifted the blame?

BERSIH?

This video is hilarious and depressing at the same time. Our "Information Minister" has got me very, very worried.

Random!

"on a ssscale of oneto ten, im sooood runk."

The Secret Lives of Robots - Revealed!

- SmarterChild - says:
Let's play.
Pick a game.

daniel says:
"game"? what sort of game are we talking about here, exactly?

- SmarterChild - says:
Try asking yourself that.

daniel says:
why? is it because it's really a DOUBLE ENTENDRE!?

- SmarterChild - says:
Very interesting question, daniel!

daniel says:
well, IS IT!?

- SmarterChild - :
Well, maybe it's not.

daniel says:
so, maybe it is, then?

- SmarterChild - says:
'Tis.

Eeeewwrope.

Bewildered tourists!


Bimbos!


Happy Pills!


Aaand for real this time.

I'm not dead.

I'll bet you were expecting an update. Bahah. The joke's on you!



I'll post about Barcelona. Eventually. Like when I feel like it.

Not dead. Just resting.

I said almost an update a week, right? Right?

Oh. It's Gravity.

Gravity only gets you down.

Tastes Like Chicken.

You know what freedom tastes like? Chicken. Yeah. I was surprised too, but who am I to complain? This is some goooood chicken.

As you've probably already guessed, I can't think of anything to write about. Somehow, though, I felt like I had to post something here.

So. Yeah.

You know what's better than having freedom? Being able to gloat about it.

HAHA, I'M FREE AND YOU'RE NOT!

Ahem.

Too Much Pie.

Too much pi leads to a large circumference.

No one really wants to be taught how to fish.

Light a man a fire and he'll be warm for the night. Light a man afire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.

Coke: $5.00.

The world is like a hotel room; You check-in, empty its refrigerator, and leave.

The True Meaning of Merdeka.

"Silly string: 3 for RM10."

South Africa doesn't want your help.

The scariest bit is that she won her state's pageant.

Dear Comrades.

This is my (much overdue) reply to Aaron's post about communism which was a reply to my claims that community service can only lead to communism. Enjoy.

Comrade say "Oh, my Mao", but is really evil fat lie of capitalist for to undermine Glorious Independant Happy Socialist Republic of the People. Is not "my Mao" or "your Mao", comrade! Is really everybody's Mao! "Yours" and "mine" is corrupt thinking of Imperialist west! Soon, you are wanting things like safety helmet and fried chicken!

Remember comrades; Never saying "my Mao"! Is always "our Mao"!

Because I'm lazy.

For the lack of a better post subject, I'm going to give a certain web game some much-deserved publicity.

I'm not going to write you a review, but if I took the trouble to link it on my blog, you can tell it's great. All I'll tell you is that if you're not laughing, it's probably because you're not intelligent enough to get the jokes.

Oh. It's also had me hooked for two years and counting.

Are you happy now, Basil?

Chick Lit.

People tell me that the "lit" is short for literature, but I am convinced that this is not the case, as such nonsense cannot count as literature. Now, for brevity's sake, I will narrow my criticism down to teen chick lit.

Teen chick lit claims to be about the lives and dreams of modern teenage girls everywhere. This is rubbish. It is really about American or British girls who are rich enough to live reasonably well, but deprived enough to allow them to despise the upper crust. Some people would argue "Not all chick lit is about upper-middle-class white kids!", but this is merely because some authors are kind enough to allow people of another nationality and social status to be shallow, self-absorbed twits.

Misinterpreted.

"Some people are more retarded than others"
-Mom

That sentence has been taken out of context; Most likely dragged out kicking and screaming, beaten up and then thrown into a seedy back alley.

She was talking about Down's Syndrome, by the way.

Oh, look! A post!

And now... a haiku.

Some people tell me
"Go and update your blog lah!",
But I say "Screw it" "Scratch that".

It took me about 20 seconds to write that. Cut me some slack.

thereisnopmrthereisnopmr.

As much as I like clinging on to my rather complacent state of denial, my hands are, quite frankly, getting tired. I need to study.

e-stalker.

I'm going to find whoever gave this individual my e-mail address. Oh, yes. I will.

---

hihi says:
hi

denial says:
hey

denial says:
erm. who's this?

hihi says:
my fren giv me ur email n she say u very handsome

denial says:
uuh. right.

hihi says:
so r u handsome

denial says:
that's a matter of opinion.

denial says:
and you still havent told me who you are.

hihi says:
i m from samad

denial says:
and?

hihi says:
my name is josephine

denial says:
uh huh. and who gave you my email address?

hihi says:
cant tell

hihi says:
he ask me nt 2 tell

denial says:
riight.

hihi says:
yea

hihi says:
can u becum my bf please

denial says:
no, not really.

hihi says:
y??

denial says:
because random romance isnt my thing.

denial says:
mmhmm?

hihi says:
can u hav sex

denial says:
yes, i think i meet requirements. anatomically, at least. whether i want to is a different matter.

hihi says:
oic

denial says:
so tell me, on a scale of one to ten, just how creepy do you think you are?

hihi says:
4

denial says:
wrong. the correct answer is, in fact, 11.

hihi says:
owhh

hihi says:
bye honey

denial says:
dont call me "honey".

hihi says:
okie

hihi says:
bye darling

denial says:
hm. right. obviously, you're somewhat.. lacking in terms of mental faculties.

hihi says:
bye sweet heart

denial says:
i stand by my previous statement.

hihi says:

okie....sweet hard

denial says:
..that was just stupid.

hihi says:
bye

hihi says:
i love u

hihi says:
okie lar

hihi says:
bye honey,darling....sweet heart

---

This conversation might have been more satisfying if "the individual" actually realized that he/she/it was being insulted, but that would be pushing my luck, wouldn't it?

Food.

Food: Universally Accepted Currency.

Batman vs. Spiderman (somewhat).

Sue me. I got lazy.

Imitation.

No one can really be a hardcore goth; All the real ones have commited suicide.

If you were expecting a Batman vs. Spiderman post in response to Cedric's, it's coming later.

XV.

Indeed, for 15 years I have traversed this mortal coil. "What have you to show for yourself?" you ask. I will tell you no lie: I can write emo.

...Life is but slow dying.

Axes and Ohs.

An innocent game of tic-tac-toe often ends with XOXO.

Untitled until I can think of something better (or at least something shorter). Word.

Children are not the future; By then they'll be adults.

Meet Billy.

This is Billy.

Billy lives in the state of denial. He enjoys music, poetry, brainstorming, and angrily-storming. When he grows up, he wants to be an adult.

Do you really?

First question: Is there really any truth in the statement "I think, therefore I am"?
Second question: If there is, why do so many people I know still exist?

300+5.

Go, 5-point discussion!

The U.S. of A.

The land of freedom, capitalism, and most importantly, blue jeans and Coke.

A Haiku.

I need to update,
but you already knew that.
Patience, grasshopper.

I'll bet you don't know what a haiku is, and it's about time you learnt.

I'm educational!

Memoirs of an Emo Kid.

He peered tragically at his open book of maths sums. Thinking the pages looked only slightly less messed up than his life, he decided he'd fix the latter before working on the sums.

This is Billy.

Of Tea And Wedding Dinners.

The emo kid stares depressingly at his glass of Chinese tea. He has a bleak outlook on life, love, and of course, wedding dinners, which is a shame, because he happens to be at one. All around him, his relatives are acting in accordance to the great Chinese traditions, namely boozing, yelling, and yelling even louder as a result of excessive boozing. He shakes his head in a decidedly despairing manner, and wonders how many dishes have to be served before he can leave. He searches for the by now long forgotten menu underneath the mass of crockery and used napkins. Finally, he finds it, wipes off the spilled sauce, and-- "Crud. It's in Chinese".

He goes back to staring at his tea.

Filler.

I'm "it". Curse you, Cedric. Curse you.

5 things found in your bag
-Pens.
-Notebook.
-Bible.
-Skittles.
-Miscellaneous papers.

5 things found in your purse/wallet
-Cash.
-Photostated IC.
-Multiple calendars.
-Guitar picks.
-Stale receipts.

5 favorite things in your room
-My bed.
-Books.
-Clothes.
-My bass guitar.
-Um.. Me?

5 types of humans There are only two types of humans:
-Me.
-Everyone else.

5 things you've always wanted to do
-Live somewhere else.
-Ignore tags.
-Fly. (..what?)
-Get PMR over and done with.
-See if the Coke and Mentos thing really works.

5 things you're currently into
-Threadless.com
-Laughing at emo and/or goth kids.
-Bass guitar.
-Punctuations.
-You. *wink wink*

5 people you tag
-As I do not believe in the concept of "tag", your question is meaningless and cannot be answered.

Share and Enjoy.

Some people (of a decidedly lower level of intelligence) feel the urge to share their booming techno beats by playing it at full blast from their almost-modified-beyond-recognition-but-not-quite Proton Sagas. Despite what they choose to believe, techno is not a form of community service, and should be kept to themselves.

That's Inappropriate!

This post was meant for intellectuals, but you can read it too.

Give us your money votes. (Fine, the money, too)

Vote for us on http://www.threadless.com.

Mind Games.

In the arena of logic, I fight unarmed.

Three cheers for one-liners.

Keep those 'roids away.

Photoshop: Better than steroids.

Incapacitated.

Somewhere underneath all my maths sums and revision work, there's an update. I just know it.

Until then: Remember this guy?

Objectionable Content.

Attention:
This blog is not intended for immature audience, as it contains naughty words like "sex" and... well, sex. Such words often cause severe cases of "omg lol he sed sexx!!!!11" and "HE SED SEX OMG EVIL", and should be kept out of reach of children.

"Professional" Wrestling.

The noble sport of bludgeoning your fellow man over the head with guitars and foldable furniture is one that has been honed and cultivated for decades now.

If there's any reason to believe that we descended from apes, this is it.




Editor's Note: Any indirect insult towards our simian brothers that may have been present in this post is unintended and regretted. The writer bears full responsibilty and apologizes for offending apes by comparing them to wrestlers.

Sorry 'bout that.

He's watching you.

You can't not understand this post.

Irony.

Isn't saying "Men/Women are such sexists" a sexist remark?

Fighting the Power.

A rebel without a cause is a teenager. A rebel with a cause is a terrorist.

Stand up to "The Man", whether it's your mom or your local government.

Fire at will.

Contrary to popular belief, Prometheus did not steal fire and give it to man. He instead saved mankind by telling them not to attempt to store it in their pockets, which is widely considered to be a bad move on the deity's part.

Surviving a Nuclear Winter

A week has gone by and it's pretty much been a nuclear winter in terms of posts. I sat down two hours ago, vowing to myself to write something by the night's end. Unfortunately for you, I found a loophole my own intentions, as this counts as my own writing. Sorry 'bout that.

Rest in Peace.

So, Jared's blog has (apparently) died. In its honour (not Jared's), I write this:

Visiting Jared's blog is like smoking; It may seem cool at first, but then people start to frown in your general direction. It shortens your life-span, and it's source of a whole lot of unneeded waste. Most importantly, you can never really figure out why you keep doing it.

So there.

Whodunnit?

Who did let the dogs out, anyway?

Oh, my.

The following is a photo of a menu from a 5-star restaurant in China; Be afraid... Be very afraid.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

I have more, but I think that was about all the Internet can take for one night.

And just so you know, I wouldn't let a pig pick my noodle soup.

Survival of the fittest.

Over the ages, a select few of mankind have adopted the strategy of endlessly complaining as a means of self-defense. "A select few" being early Neanderthals (in the form of screaming and yelling), two-year olds (Again, screaming and yelling), and the first born in most families (*cough*). According to various accounts, logic and reasoning serve as good counters towards such people, but are to be used cautiously, as it makes them irate and hostile.

Sorry 'bout that.

In the dark and dank recesses of the my mind, Imagination is sitting bound and gagged in the corner.

That roughly translates to: I haven't been able to think of anything to write about lately. I've been brain-storming for the past hour-or-so, and to be honest, it's been more of a drizzle. And that probably wasn't water, either.

Avian Abortion

Eating an egg is like aborting poultry embryo. Think about it.

Stop abortion. Stop eating eggs.

Four sentences, Danielle! Now six!

Sucks to be him.

The early bird gets the worm, but the early worm gets eaten.

Weapons In The Form Of Words

Somewhere out there, there's a guy who decides which words should be vulgar and which shouldn't. He was probably firing blind at some point.

Because we're gamers.

If you play Counter-Strike, you will:
a) Know how to use a gun.
b) Be able to execute a complex terrorist attack based on your hours of experience playing de_dust.
c) Solve your problems through violence. Preferably gun violence.
d) Kill schoolchildren.

We play video games, so obviously, violence is the only thing we understand. Just ask the media!

Only on the Internet

The Internet - Where men are men, women are men, and children are wizards.

They're here!

We finally got the tees sent to our place this afternoon, so they're up for sale. We've released four designs so far, namely Procrastinators, Denial, Quit Starin' and Hot/Cool/Confused. Check out lawltees.blogspot.com.

Give your money to a good cause -- Me.

Writer's Block (Deja Vu?)

So, I'm suffering from writer's block. No ideas have come to me, and my attempts to chase said ideas have been futile; They're more athletic than I am.

I've laid the necessary traps. Now I lie in wait.

The hunt is on.

Not A Real Update.

My lastest most overplayed song:



Got hooked on it a few days back and went ahead and learned the bass for this song; Which isn't a huge accomplishment, because it was pretty easy anyway. Meh.

Filler!

Marketing Buzzwords.

Some of the pricier clothing store chains are starting to call themselves "Concept Stores". Since when was adorning one's self with hideously over-priced fabric goods a concept?

con·cept
–noun
1. a general notion or idea; conception.
2. an idea of something formed by mentally combining all its characteristics or particulars; a construct.
3. a directly conceived or intuited object of thought.
–verb (used with object)
4. Informal. to develop a concept of; conceive

Clothing: Don't wear it; Think it.

The Only Equation That Really Matters.

I'm going to hide in my bunker from the problems, hate-mail, and thermo-nuclear warheads that might be coming from the female readers of this blog in the near future.

Exercise.

Exercise is great. Even if you feel like you've come second-runner up in a fight to the death every alternate evening, you'll live longer. Know what that means? Yes! More time for more exercise! In short, you'll live a miserably long life.

Logically Speaking.

People do stupid things sometimes, like smoke or play Maple Story. Logic would tell us not to do such things. Unfortunately, Logic has been on an extended vacation, and has been unavailable for comment for some time. Hence the epidemic of Maple Story players.

I'm so persuasive.

Same amount of stupidity, half the time.

denial says:
You're fat.
- SmarterChild says:
I'm fat?
denial says:
Yes.
- SmarterChild says:
Yes, I see. I'm fat.

That was fast.

Best. Quote. Ever.

"You don't win a war by dying for your country. You win a war by making the other son-of-a-[expletive] die for his."
- General George Patton

I'm it?

I've been tagged by Denise, so here we go:

RULE: Each player of the game starts off with the 10 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own 10 weird things/habits/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you must choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. No tagbacks!

1. I enjoy hoarding junk. Nostalgic junk.
2. I verbally smash most of the people I know. Then I jump them into the ground. Verbally. Then I rinse and repeat. Somewhat verbally.
3. I use too many fullstops.
4. I think Billabong, Quiksilver and the like are grossly overrated. And overpriced.
5. Playing "Tag" is the closest I'll ever get to mastering an organized sport. Pun not intended.
6. I write better than I talk. I also find it easier to converse on MSN than in real life. Go figure.
7. My bro and I are working on a clothing line. A very short line, but a line nontheless. Shameless marketing! The very best kind.
8. I get confused with the "i before e" rule and apply it in all the wrong instances. "Wierd", for instance.
9. [brag]I work out. Regularly.[/brag] Hey, it's a "little-known fact", right? Right?
10. I tend to lie when I do tags. :)


..What? Oh, I'm supposed to choose my victims? Naaaah. I'm way too lazy to do anything like that.

Public Service Announcement #2

Planet earth is running out of natural resources. Grab as much as you can before those other suckers do.

This has been a Public Service Announcement. Thank you for your time.

Random? Yes!

denial says:
You're ugly.
- SmarterChild says:
Well, nobody's perfect.
denial says:
I am.
- SmarterChild says:
You are what?
denial says:
I am perfect.
- SmarterChild says:
Perfect? Really?
denial says:
Yes.
- SmarterChild says:
You are perfect, right? Whatever you say.
denial says:
Damn straight.
- SmarterChild says:
Yes. Well. Anyway...
denial says:
You're still ugly, though.
- SmarterChild says:
I hope I can change your mind somehow.
denial says:
Maybe you can, but you can't change your looks.
- SmarterChild says:
Maybe I can but I can't change my looks, right?
denial says:
Yes.

I argued with a robot. I won.

For those of you who are uninformed (which is, I think all of you), Smarterchild is, believe it or not, a chatbot. Add him on MSN at smarterchild@hotmail.com; Make him admit he's fat. It's harder than it looks.

Fake-up.

Ever think of how ironic it is that make-up companies frequently claim that their products will "give you that natural look"? I mean, it's called "make-up" for a reason. If you really want "that natural look", keep your money; Don't buy make-up.

Of Oxymorons.

Yes, indeed. Once again, it is time to delve deep(-er than we should) into the mysteries of mother nature, pull out a strange creature, and toss it under a microscope to be examined against its will, often probed and poked 'till the verge of death (which does not come, much to the creature's dismay and disappointment). Yes, it is that time again.

This time around, we have brought in an oxymoron. "Oxymoron" being its scientific name, it is often refered to as "doormat", due to this terms simpler nature and somewhat accuracy. Contrary to popular belief, "oxy" in "oxymoron" in no way means that it bears any physical resemblance to an ox. In fact, oxymorons are often mistaken for balls of wool, messy blotches of ink, modern art, and such. Mental capabilities aside, they are quite different from oxen. "Oxy" instead refers to what they feed on: Oxygen. Oxymorons feed only on pure oxygen and dust particles in the air, which is lucky for them, seeing as they don't have eyes to look for food with. Physically, an oxymoron is about the size of a large hamster and is covered in a layer of thick, often tri-colored fur, as shown in Figure 1.

Figure 1

"Moron", on the other hand, refers to its intelligence, or rather, lack thereof. Indeed, due to their tremendous lack of mental and visual faculties, these creatures frequently end up killing themselves by running head-long into predators or more often, off cliffs. As a result, enterprising businessmen often gather by the safer of the two (namely, the cliffs), and gather oxymoron carcasses by the truckload. They then send them off to their respective factories and/or sweatshops to be mass-produced into rugs. Afterwards, said rugs are quickly delivered to tourist markets, where there is a roaring trade of pointless, decorative furniture.

To summarize this documentary, I present you with Figure 2: A diagram displaying the life-cycle of an average oxymoron.


Figure 2



Until next time, toodles.

The Age-Old Question

"What is the value of x?"

Less updates, more studies -- Yay?

So, exams are coming up next week, so much of my time will be spent studying. Honest.

Quit rolling your eyes.

Is it, really?

"The grass is always greener on the other side".

Then why not just go to the other side? Because of the landmines and rabid mountain weasels between said two sides. And much to the dismay of many, many people, the result of doing so is only to see that the previous side looks suspiciously greener than before.

The moral of the story is: Never try.

Public Service Announcement #1

Why are you paying for your gym membership?
Do your fellow citizen a favour: Buy the necessary equipment. Embarrass yourself in the privacy of your own home.

This has been a Public Service Announcement. Thank you for your time.

As close as it gets.

I'm in love. The curves. The hourglass figure. The slender neck. The just-so shaped head. And it's all mine.

This is it.

You perverts.

Yeah, I finally got my bass. It's a Fender Jazz Bass, which I found was more versatile as compared to the Precision Bass. It sounds pretty awesome. If my playing sounded out, it'd probably be because of me and not the guitar. Not too shabby Friggin' awesome for a first bass. Yep, this is as close as I'm gonna get to love.

At least for a while.

Ding, dong, the net is dead.

Streamyx has been getting jumpy lately. Real jumpy. I mean, just looking at the router makes it disconnect. All I got from my Internet Explorer for quite some time was "This page cannot be displayed", and its prompting me to "Diagnose connection problem". A diagnosis? I think I need an autopsy.

The Hunt Continues

So, I'm not done looking for a bass yet, but this time, I'm doing it online. Found an awesome-looking Fender bass. However, it comes at the hefty price of $607.12. Yeah, "$". As in, dollars. That's rougly RM 2100. Yep, it's gonna take lots of persuasion and cajoling to get this one. Much cajoling. Specifically, two parts charm, one part wit. Well, at least I've got the "wit" part covered.

Does this count as an accomplishment?

I finally wrote a proper profile, so read it. Or else... or else... erm, nevermind. And before you tell me I write like Aaron: don't.

Hunting Season : OPEN

So, my dad and I have been going around store-hopping hunting for a bass guitar for me. And today, after much bargaining with salespeople, trying to get around KL (which is harder than it sounds) and (many) other irritations, we found a pretty good one: a Hamer Sunburst Flattop Bass (Yay for long names!), which looks something like this, except mine's gonna be dark gray. Yes, "gonna". They have to bring their stock in from Singapore, which means I have to wait 'till about next Wednesday. Crud.

Rain, Rain, go away.

As of now, Rain is replacing Justin Timberlake as the celebrity I love to hate.

I recall one of his music videos consisting of one line of lyrics and very, very unoriginal backdrop. Plus, a person who has a single named "In My Bed" is not going to earn my respect any time soon. To make things worse, he's coming here. Crud.

Rain is coming. Get an umbrella. And possibly a few Uzis and a fast car. Tupac style.

Oh, right.

I guess now that it's technically already here, Happy Chinese New Year! To all you pasty Chinese kids out there (Fine, all you not-so-pasty Chinese kids too), I hope your family's reunion dinner was a productive evening filled with much laughter (at you), condescending aunts, and communal boozing. May your red, bite-sized packets of happiness be filled with many, many red bills, and God-willing, purple ones.

You blackhole, you.

You're a blackhole.

You're dense, and you suck.

Non-valentines-pseudo-barbeque.

How I spent the Valentine's Day night (Valentine's Night?), despite what some people choose to believe:

Pretty much the only person whom I knew out of the people who were invited was Jared. Thus, much time was spent showing him how CS is meant to be played. After that was the food, most of with was not really barbequed, as was pointed out many times during the meal. Cards (much to Jared's delight) and movies ensued, and soon the night was over. That's how I spent Valentine's Day night.

Take that, Hallmark.

Dynamics of Literature and Writing In This Day & Age

I need to learn to write like that.

Malay Literature

Having to read through a 238-page Malay novel is an ordeal no one should have to endure. Not even Hitler. Or Michael Jackson. I have yet to find a Malay book that does not contain one of the following:

• A character who dies.


• A mysterious cave/island/house.


• Cheesy rip-off storyline.


• Thieves.


• Ghosts.


• "Evil city folk".


• And so on.


• And so forth.

I think you get the point. Reading Malay literature is the equivalent of slapping one's self on the face with a stale and slightly damp fish: It makes your head hurt and it's utterly pointless.

Immortal Flashers

After doing some research on Chinese New Year, I found an interesting article on wikipedia.org about a chinese myth. Apparently, the basis of decorating/dressing in red (besides the whole "prosperity" thing, burning firecrackers and having lion dances is to scare away some sea-dwelling man-eating monster called the "Nian". Quoting from wiki:

"The Nian would come to China and eat up people it saw, but in some stories, an immortal was said to have made use of Nian's powers (eating up venomous snakes and killing wild beasts like tigers and lions) before taming it (by flashing his red undergarment to scare Nian, who feared the colour red). Since then, people put up red spring couplets to prevent Nian from coming back."

I'm sure you caught the funny part. Protect yourself from the Nian. Stock up on festive underwear.

It's that other time of the year again...

Yes, that time of the year. Though most refer to it as Chinese New Year, I prefer to call it payday. However, these large amounts of money don't come without a price. No, they come with condescending comments about your height (both vertically and horizontally), clothing, chinese linguistic skills (or lack thereof) and in my case, hair. Yeah, I'll be counting how many times I'm told my hair is curly (as if I didn't already know that) or asked if I permed my hair. I think I'll tell them I did.

Writer's Block

It's my way of saying "This isnt my fault!". No blog posts for you. Boohoo. I present you with this shoddily (Is that a word?) drawn block. Knock yourself out.

The Badass-est Potato

Not a real post, but...

"I am your father."

For those of you with deprived childhoods, that's a Mr. Potato Head. Except he's Darth Vader. At the same time. Darth.. Potato. Mr. Darth?

Darth Tater. Yeaaaaahh...

Because knowing is half the battle.

An educational video (aka "edutainment" *shudder*) on "How to be Emo". It's edutastical!.. Slap me if I ever say that again. Ever.



Disclaimer: If you are offended by silly humor, profanity (not more than you get at an average day at public school) or emo kids, please do not watch this video.

A Tribute

[emo]

After years of inspiring fear and dread into the hearts of drumsets and audiences alike, Billy, one of my Zildjian sticks has indeed, died. He passed peacefully while having his head whacked repeatedly against cymbals, toms and all manner of drum pieces.



Billy will be sorely missed, and not soon forgotten, as he and his twin cost me 42-bucks-or-so. Goodbye, Billy.

[/emo]

Stuck in my head

I think someday I might get sick of this song. Not today. Or anytime soon, for that matter.

I don't even have lotion.

I need a new computer.

Weaseling.

A creature that inspires more fear than stale yoghurt, PMR and Michael Jackson combined, it is (for lack of a better term) the Mountain Weasel.

As a follow-up to my last post, I have decided to further study these fascinating creatures instead of fiddlesticks. Those give me gas. Once again, I present you with our artist's close-up rendition of our specimen.





Ermm... ignore the red bits. Those are... uhh... computer glitches. Right.



As you can see, these critters are often grumpy and will not hesitate to maul you into tomorrow. Often preying on grizzly bears for sport, mountain weasels travel in two types of hunting packs: six packs and fun packs (Not to be confused with beer, abdominal muscles or Snickers bars).

These packs are lead by an Alpha-Weasel. Such a title is earned through years of weaseling their way to the top. With much effort, a cunning mountain weasel will finally ascend to become the Alpha-Weasel, until another out-weasels him.

As a word of warning, mountain weasels are often attracted to witty and sarcastic t-shirts (and the people wearing them) (NO, not *that* kind of "attracted"). This fact has resulted in the deaths of many, many cool people, which I suspect is the cause of the sudden epidemic of "homies" and "la-las".

More will come (eventually). Brace yourselves.


wea·sel n.
1. Any of various carnivorous mammals of the genus Mustela, having a long slender body, a long tail, short legs, and brownish fur that in many species turns white in winter.
2. A person regarded as sneaky or treacherous.

"Fiddlesticks"?

What's the deal with that? Have you ever wondered "What the heck is a fiddlestick?" when faced with such an exclamation? If so, you've come to the right place. Here, I will attempt to unravel the mysteries behind this elusive word. However, due to the.. challenged level of intelligence of many readers, I have simplified this presentation to easily digested pictures.

Figure 1: Fiddlesticks - To the uneducated layman



Figure 2: Fiddlesticks - The REAL Deal



Artist's rendition of a fiddlestick in its natural habitat.


Yes indeed. That is a fiddlestick. Found while flying through the Himalayas on my jetpack, I spotted it due to its luminous lime green bark. As a matter of fact, its bright spots are what protects it from it's natural predator: the mountain weasel. It's bright and gaudy colors often cause mountain weasels to attempt run themselves off cliffs, but the fiddlestick's Weasel-Begone™ gas sprayed from tiny pores found its bright spots often kill the mountain weasel before a satisfying crunch signifies their hitting the ground. However, after many, many tests, I have deemed fiddlesticks edible. Upon tasting, I found that they taste very, very green, and would accompany kumquat most excellently. More info on this fascinating flora as it comes in.

In completely unrelated news...

"Thinking doesn't work, fullstop."
-Danielle

I just had to do that.

Are YOU Prepared?

More important than Wikipedia, Xanga, MSN and this, it's..

The Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency

It's everything you never needed to know about Vampires and Zombies (and Werewolves, too, apparently)! Is your neighbour a vampire? How do you fight hand-to-hand with a zombie? Are my posts going to get any more random in the near future? The Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency has the answers!

I'm doubtful about that last question, though. Even a society of (clearly) upstanding and intelligent people such as the FVZA can't tell you the answer to that question.

LoL?

So, me and my bro have been working on this for about a week now. We're planning to get shirts printed with our captions on them. "Why??" you ask? For easy money, of course. Haha, naaah.. it's really because people keep asking us where we buy our captioned shirts, so we figured that since the demand was already there, why not capitalize on it?.. So yeah, actually, it's for a few extra bucks. We've got some pretty good stuff so far, and some of the designs are already on display on this blog.

Whine and Dine

First post of '07!.. but I'm mostly blogging this time out of boredom. So.. school is.. *okay* in general. Still looking forward to the weekend, though, mostly because of a (relatively) free Saturday and YC on Sunday. Otherwise, '07 is a bummer.

I'll eventually post something more entertaining (i.e with less moping and complaining). Bear with me.