| Darn interwebs. |
[16 Apr 2006|12:11pm] |
Let it be known officially that '21 Unread Messages' is a portent of terrible things to come.
Easter eggs! In the past used to represent the rock rollowing away from Christ's tomb, they formed an entertaining pastime for children across the world; they would be painted, decorated, and rolled down the hill. Fun for all the family.
But NO LONGER!
New research, taken from the Easter egg traditions of today, indicates that Christ did in fact eat his way out of the tomb. Made out of chocolate.
...
Stupid commerce. Made worse by the fact I like Easter eggs.
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[01 Apr 2006|05:49pm] |
Just a quicky, I think that I'm in love with Corinne.
The End.
EDIT: Oh, shush. Keep your Corinne-loving notes to your OWN blog.
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| God bless our dead marines. |
[20 Mar 2006|03:07pm] |
They put angels in the electric chair The electric chair, the electric chair Straight up angels in the electric chair The electric chair, the electric chair
They put angels in the electric chair The electric chair, the electric chair Straight up angels in the electric chair The electric chair, the electric chair
And no one knew or no one cared But burning stars lit up their hair And burning stars lit up their hair And crawled to heaven on golden stairs
And oh, how we to and fro To and fro, to and fro Oh, how we to and fro To and fro, to and fro
Oh, how we to and fro To and fro, to and fro Oh, how we to and fro To and fro, to and fro
This our torched estates We're your sweet mistakes
And all them vulgar kings on their dirty thrones Who among us will avenge Ms. Nina Simone? And all them vulgar kings on their dirty thrones Who among us will avenge Ms. Nina Simone?
There's fresh meat in the club tonight God bless our dead marines Someone had an accident above the burning tree While somewhere distant, peacefully Our vulgar leaders sleep Dead kids don't get photographed God bless our dead marines
The hungry and the hanged the damaged and the done striving 'long this spinning rock tumbling past the sun
Lost a friend to cocaine Couple friends to smack Troubled hearts map deserts And they rarely do come back Lost a friend to oceans Lost a friend to hills Lost a friend to suicide Lost a friend to pills Lost a friend to monsters Lost a friend to shame Lost a friend to marriage Lost a friend to blame Lost a friend to worry And lost a friend to wealth Lost a friend to stubborn pride And then I lost myself
I love my dog and she loves me The world's a mess and so are we She tumbles long green, muddy fields Sick with joy and glee And as she dreams sweet puppy dreams Whimpering gently
There's fresh meat in the club tonight God bless our dead marines Someone had an accident above the burning trees Well, somewhere distant, peacefully the vulgar princes sleep Dead kids don't get photographed God bless this century
When the world is sick Can no one be well? But I dreamt we were so beautiful and strong
When the world is sick Can no one be well? But I dreamt we were so beautiful and strong
When the world is sick Can no one be well? But I dreamt we were so beautiful and strong
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| I hate you, Mario. |
[06 Mar 2006|06:25pm] |
Mario, we need to talk. Times have changed; I don't know who you are these days.
It's the mushrooms, Mario. You take them and then claim that you've killed Gwoombas, fought Boo and defeated the Hammer Bros. I can only put two and two together, Mario!
It's that brother of yours, isn't it? Wait, don't answer that. I already know the answer.
Toadstool's the dealer. I'm sure of it.
Go get Bowsered, Mario. And don't come crying to me when the mushrooms wear off.
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| Sketch swap! |
[15 Feb 2006|11:16pm] |
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Did you recieve my Sketch Swap, internet person?
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| The Infantryman's Creed |
[16 Jan 2006|09:43pm] |
This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will.
My rifle and myself know that what counts in war, is not the rounds of fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know it is the hits that count. We will hit.
My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will.
Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but Peace.
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[16 Jan 2006|05:14pm] |
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music |
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Good Morning Beautiful - Deftones |
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You know your Armenian when ...
1. You unwrap Christmas gifts very carefully, so you can save and reuse the wrapping (and especially those bows) next year.
2. You only buy Christmas cards after Christmas, when they are 50% off.
3. When there is a sale on toilet paper, you buy 100 rolls and store them in your closet or in the bedroom of an adult child who has moved out.
4. Your stove is covered with aluminum foil.
5. You use the dishwasher as a dish rack.
6. You have never used your dishwasher.
7. You eat all meals in the kitchen.
8. You save grocery bags, tin foil, and tin containers.
9. You use grocery bags to hold garbage.
10. You always leave your shoes at the door.
11. You have a piano in your living room.
12. You play a musical instrument.
13. You pick your teeth at the dinner table (but you cover your mouth).
14. You twirl your pen around your fingers.
15. You hate to waste food.... a. Even if you're totally full, if someone says they're going to throw away the leftovers on the table, you'll finish them. b. You have Tupperware in your fridge with three bites of rice or one leftover chicken wing.
16. You don't own any real Tupperware-only a cupboard full of used but carefully rinsed margarine tubs, takeout containers, and jam jars.
17. You have a collection of miniature shampoo bottles that you take every time you stay in a hotel.
18. The condiments in your fridge are either Price Club sized or come in plastic packets, which you save/steal every time you get take out or go to McDonald's.
19. Ditto for paper napkins.
20. You never order room service.
21. You own a rice cooker.
22. Your dad thinks he can fix everything himself.
23. You majored in something practical like engineering, medicine or law.
24. When you go to a dance party, there are a wall of guys surrounding the dance floor trying to look cool.
25. You live with your parents and you are 30 years old (and they prefer it that way). Or if you're married and 30 years old, you live in The apartment next door to your parents, or at least in the same neighborhood.
26. Your parents' house is always cold.
27. Your mom drives her Mercedes to the Price Club.
28. You only make long distance calls after 11 PM.
29. You always cook too much.
30. If you don't live at home, when your parents call, they ask if you've eaten, even if it's midnight.
31. You e-mail your friends at work, even though you are only 10 feet apart.
32. Your parents send money to their relatives in ARMENIA.
33. You're always late.
34. You eat every last grain of rice in your bowl, but don't eat the last piece of food on the table.
35. You know someone who can get you a good deal on jewelry or electronics.
36. You never discuss your love life with your parents.
37. Your parents are never happy with your grades.
38. You save your old Coke bottle glasses even though you're never going to use them again.
39. You keep used batteries.
40. Your toothpaste tubes are all squeezed paper-thin.
And now I know.
I'm not Armenian.
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| More human than human. |
[10 Jan 2006|08:02pm] |
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music |
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Come to Daddy - Aphex Twin |
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Can anyone guess the context?
Artik. And sing it to the tune of faggot faggot faggot. says:
Please?
josh says:
lol ill get arested for possession of a firearm
josh says:
not to mention using it
Artik. And sing it to the tune of faggot faggot faggot. says:
Yeah, but not before you've put all the colours of the rainbow up his rectal passage.
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[17 Dec 2005|12:11am] |
Pushin' the law again Pushin' the law again
Justice with a sword Our smiling knight on board Opening his heart to everyone And loving without a doubt Embarrassing friends and embarrassing foes, And those who were unjust A man true to his heart without fear or misgivings With "insecurity" tattooed across his body The first to accept, the last to disappoint He understood all and expected nothing
Now you are free Free to roam the skies Now and then visit me With your starlit eyes
You took all our hearts With your smile, And left a legacy untold You conquered life and fear, So you see there was no room for you to grow old
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| Oh no, my precious LJ is ruined. |
[17 Dec 2005|12:05am] |
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music |
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Kings Of Convinience - I Don't Know What I Can Save You From |
] |
Ooh, I've been hacked. Oh no.
I'll leave it there as a testament to morons.
Daemonettes have 6 breasts. Am I the only one who recognises the child-feeding potential?
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| Hello i am inane |
[14 Dec 2005|06:27pm] |
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mood |
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aroused.who isn't over Ben? |
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music |
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gay bar- electric six |
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I love the sun............. I love Ben Horsely......... I think i may be gay....... And perhaps now is the right time to come out.
well here i am. stripped.
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| IF I TYPE IN CAPITALS I LOOK CLEVER LIKE EINSTEIN OR SOMEONE. |
[31 Oct 2005|04:50pm] |
| [ |
music |
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Road Trippin' - RHCP |
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Say, here's a thought. Thinking back to Signs, I noticed a few key errors in their plotline:
A race of extremely intelligent aliens, who just so happen to happen to be vulnerable to water invade the earth. Which is over half water. Naked.
Great plan, aliens.
Also, they've mastered space travel, and appear to have incredibly advanced technology. So why, when it comes to a locked door, they're like: "Oh crap, rethink the master Earth domination plan we spent years perfecting!"
WHY CAN'T YOU MAKE ONE GOOD ALIEN MOVIE! WHY?
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| She needs you like she needs her pills to tell her the world's ok. |
[16 Sep 2005|11:15pm] |
Pride and Prejudice - Best. Film/book. Ever.
Watch/read it now, it's better than you.
See also: your ass getting kicked by me and, to whit, Sokth/MT - my only active friend on LJ. So now that it isn't 'cool', the rest of you stop updating? Strewth; you sicken me. In fact, scrap sicken - add mildly nauseate. What DOES sicken me is arrogant children.
I work with them 4 hours a week. And why are they arrogant? 'Cause their mistakes are excused. Their grammatical blows are softened dramatically. Leading them to what? Believing mistakes are acceptable.
A B-A-D T-H-I-N-G!
So I take pleasure in announcing that they don't have '13 corrections' to do. Oh no, you have 13 MISTAKES my small foolish friend. MISTAKES!
I need a walking stick and a shotgun.
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| Special K. |
[07 Sep 2005|08:33pm] |
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music |
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Alexisonfire - Hey, It's Your Funeral Mama. |
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I feel like a bit of a shout-off.
I work for a company that teaches academically failing children English and Maths - no problem there. It costs a fair amount to send your child there - again, no problem there.
But a certain 'boss' of mine upsets this perfect balance. Not only does she maintain a superior nature to her workers; but she always tells the children exactly what they want to hear. Every single time.
She says to a particuarly ignorant child: "It's alright, you've just slipped up a little. If you correct your mistakes, you can show your parents that you've got 100%"
NO! Tell him he's failed, like he has (that particular youngling got something along the lines of 56%) and make him work harder! Gosh, it sickens me. And THEN, what's it telling them, for later life?
That you can 'change' exam results? That you're 'above' others?
They're going to go far. Incidentally, a fat people's aerobic club meets afterwards, in the same workplace. They dance to fast-beat music on an oversized Boom Box, sweat like whales, etc. Nauseating, but necessary.
And yet, they are still lazy. One of them attempts to help me pack the tables away in the between-period. Then, she leaves it at the door, telling me to take it the rest of the way.
Perhaps, you clinically obese bitch, you'd lose more weighjt if you put EFFORT into things, rather than sitting your oversized ass, moving occasionally to cram food into your constantly-used maw - and, AND! Once in a while going to a pointless aerobics class where you achieve nothing, because you're fat. Score one for obesity.
On a plus point, I actually slept last night. A rarity indeed.
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| Slave To The Wage |
[28 Aug 2005|01:50pm] |
| [ |
music |
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Placebo - Blue American |
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FUCKERS! FUCKERS! FUCKERS!
Back from a pleasant enough holiday in the Scottish Highlands. I expected a half naked Jacobite to swing a battleaxe at me at any given moment.
It didn't happen.
However, what did happen was my pursuit. As in, me being followed by Oddbins. For all those who don't know, Oddbins is a wine merchants...alledgedly. I, on the other hand, know the truth. BUT YOU CAN'T FUCKING HANDLE IT!
Or, you can. Either way, they stalked me in their ominous van; white, streaked with their makeshift logo and slogan, always just that small distance behind me. Essentially, it was just for an hour. But still, to keep up with my virtues:
A pox on you, Oddbins!
Waiting for people, talking to the walls.
A man weeps through a tear in your transfixed eyes Constant, but tell him everything everything before it's too early and you're late.
Shock, pain and no regrets write it on sand blow it away
Spread your wings and make a fist and fly
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