Smoke. Because no one should infringe on your rights to cough up black phlegm.

I'm sorry. I can't talk to you, you only have half an eyebrow.

2007-03-04T05:49:56Z

I AM SO EXCITED!! YAY!

Okay, so my dad went into a music store in Ottawa today because he wanted to buy another toy. He did end up coming back with it today too. It's an electric drumset. Oh, joy. It's exactly like the one he had, only it's a lot more electronic, and of course, electronic. I suppose it's pretty cool. But that's not the point of the story and my excitement. My faja brought me home a pair of FINGER CYMBALS!! That's right, finger cymbals. For those of you who don't know, I've had a slight obsession with finger cymbals since last year, around the spatula incident. For those of you who don't know the spatula incident, then well...I'm not going to explain it to you. It just involved hysterics and a broken spatula...

So now I'm really excited. So excited that I feel like writing in CAPITALS FOR THE REST OF THE ENTRY!! OH YEAH. NOW IT SEEMS LIKE I'M WRITING A BIG FLAME. EXCEPT I'M HAPPY AND NOT ANGRY, SO IT'S MORE OF A HAPPY SPARK. LIKE THE ONES WHO PROMISE TO SHARE AND BE A FRIEND.

Hee hee! I know I stopped, but right now I'm trying to pick a font for an icon, and I came across the funniest one. It's called "Heartless Valium Whore." No joke. Seriously. I'm going to use that as a comeback. Okay, so I'm only going to use it against Devon, because he called me a "dirty pirate hooker". I told him he watched too much "Dodgeball" with Ben Stiller. Even though it's a funny movie...

Here's an icon I made, because I was so incredibly bored. Yes, that scary picture is me. And yes, I took it myself when I was home alone.

It's like Ali Warhol. Tee hee.

Hey, it's not as scary as Ryan in the funny Festival picture.

I have to go now...I have to um...be eaten by carnivorous bed bugs.

The amount of junk mail I get in a week would fill a forest.

2007-02-02T20:25:16Z

Isn't that a cool video? Now I want to learn Finnish. And now I'm advising you to fill up my post and mailbox with things you need to complain about. Really. Not joking. Just complain. I'm tired of getting spam (not the food) and I would rather have complaints than spam telling me how I can get a robot to rob a bank. No really. Seriously.

For example:
We are we turning into a concrete suburban hell. University tuition is too expensive. French words have genders. My alarm never wakes me up in the morning. My computer hates me. I have a crappy song stuck in my head. There’s too much pollution. A Wal*Mart is about to ruin the town I live in. My pencils always run out of lead. My clock is off by ten minutes. The amount of junk mail I get a week would fill a forest. When you buy furniture the instructions are Swedish. There’s always a tall man in front of me at the theatre. I can never find a clean pair of socks. People underestimate me because of my height. We waste too much water. People don't pick up their dog poo. Students don't get paid enough. I can never find a tissue when I'm about to sneeze. Our town is culturally deprived.

I better stop. I could go on forever. It feels good just to get it out. Maybe it's because I've worked in Customer Service all day, and I had a particularly crusty customer? I'm never going to do anything about it because I'm too lazy, but it feels good. Except for the pencils one. I'll do that.

(*For the record, I'm eternally grateful for everything I have or am provided, this is in no way a "Oh my god, my life sucks! Everyone pity me! I'm so sad and you should pay attention to me even though there are those worse of then me.)

Ahh...A GLASS MAN!

2007-02-02T05:36:37Z

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

Thought this was neat after reading fenellaevangela's entry. The explanation was too good not to share a bit.

You are Charles VI of France, also known as Charles the Mad or Charles the Well-Beloved!

"King at 12 and quickly married to your sweetheart, Bavarian Princess Isabeau, you enjoyed many happy months together before either of you could speak anything of the other's language."

"The following month saw you suffer an exorcism, beg your friends to kill you, go into hyperactive fits of gaiety, run through your rooms to the point of exhaustion, hide from imaginary assassins, claim your name was Georges, deny that you were King and fail to recognise your family."

"You smashed furniture and wet yourself at regular intervals. Passing briefly into erratic genius, you believed yourself to be made of glass and demanded iron rods in your attire to prevent you breaking."

"Unfortunately, you had anywhere up to eleven children, who variously went on to develop capriciousness, great cruelty, insecurity, paranoia, revulsion towards food and, in one case, a phobia of bridges."

Quite the slice of Apple Pie there, huh?

Ik heb twee vaders, twee echte vaders. Die als het moet ook allbei, M’n moeder kunnen zijn.

2007-02-02T04:44:52Z

I figured I'd update, since I haven't in a while. A while being almost four month, but meh.

My pirate name is:

Iron Anne Kidd

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

That was a fun quiz. My favourite part was the question about how violent you are. I answered "I routinely assault the elderly and indigent." because it made me laugh.

So that was a pretty cool quiz. I really need to do more of those. I don't really know why, but it seems kind of cool to have a whole bunch of different names for different scenarios. And, seeing as though I don't have a nickname... Well, just kidding about the last part. I don't know if I want to be known as Iron Anne Kidd.

I've done absolutely nothing today. I read a little, watched a little telly, but I mostly surfed the internet.

Watch this. It’s soooo cool! It's a scene from a children's show called Kinderen voor Kinderen. (It means children for children in Dutch). The song is called Twee Vaders. It means “two fathers” for all of you that don’t know Dutch. So that pretty much means anyone... Don't panic, there are are English subtitles. Besides, Dutch is very close to English in some cases, so it's not too complicated to understand.

Wasn’t that neat? It's the coolest thing on the face of the planet. The kids have dyed hair and mohawks. They're all little hippy kids. I think the show is amazing because North American television broadcasters would never take the risk to create a show like that. The Dutch are so much more open than we are here. I mean, practically anything’s legal there... The only problem is that they don’t have Kraft Dinner. When Freek (pronounced Frake, kind of like brake with an F) our exchange student came to our house, I managed to get him addicted to Kraft Dinner. That’s what we both wanted to eat every night for the entire three months. It was great. We shipped him like twenty boxes when he got home. I can’t imagine living without Kraft Dinner.

So, how has everyone’s semester been? Mine’s been good. Too good. I don’t want next semester to come. Ugh. Grade 12 Bio, Chemistry, English and Physics. I miss drama!! I wish there was another class where the teacher could turn off the lights and tell us a story to put us to sleep. Or another class where Fiona could act as a human pillow and we all just sit and make up funny stories. Ah well.

This is what happens when your Mum still makes your lunch for you.

I have to go...I have to listen to German Peace Songs written during the Cold War along to backtracks of eighties techno. 99 Luftballons, Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont I think that’s right. Maybe I should google it. I don’t speak German very well. Actually I don’t speak it at all.

Pie, pie, pie. Yummy in my stummy. In my belly. Gobble gobble gobble...

2006-10-10T03:19:40Z

Well, one more thanksgiving is over and I'm still full. To all thoses that remember me talking about the mush last year, it's nowhere to be found. I had tofu nuggets. I guess it was still funny though. Imagine having chicken nuggets on Thanksgiving. I liked it. And I liked the pie. I love pie. Pie, pie, pie. I love pie. Okay. Now that I've dedicated three whole sentences to pie, I should move on. It was apple pie, and it was good. Good in my belly. In my stummy. Moooooving on. Ha. I sound like a cow. Anyway, I didn't do anything real exciting for Thanksgiving. I went to friggin' Brigadoon for Thanksgiving dinner. I worked Saturday and Sunday. I saw Lyndsey in the store. I was way up on the balcony, and she was facing backwards, so I looked at her shoes. Sure enough, what was she wearing? Her crocs. Of course. Then I knew it was her. Unless there's someone who looks identical to Lyndsey and owns a pair of crocs.

So I'm sitting at my pooter, typing away. I'm chewing on a guitar pick. I don't know why. I just am. I haven't been one to chew on random things, but mah. I almost choked on the guitar pick, and while I thought I was choking, I almost put a disk in the drive upside down. That wouldn't have been good. For some reason I'm still chewing on the pick. Now, I think I'm going to take it out because it tastes funny. Probably because it was sitting on my desk. Well, that was kind of embarassing, reading what I just wrote. Now everyone can read about the stupid things I do when I'm at home alone. I think it's only today because I'm kind of hyper. Maybe because I demolished an entire pie. I'm like that squirrel on the movie Hoodwinked, but instead of feeding me coffee to get super hyper, you give me pie. Coffee would probably work too. Now that I think of it, I don't really need a stimulant.

Todays I was rummaging around the files on my desktop, (okay, I don't think you can rummage around, more like click random icons and hope for the best) when I came across a file of a conversation Fiona and I had on MSN. I don't even know how it got there. It probably just saves and then you don't even know it's there. You little buggers, may the computer god smite you. I was reading the conversations (conversations people, not "convos" I hate it when people say that. "I know. Like OMG, in the convo last night..." Let me stab you in the eye socket with a rusty screwdriver. Okay, that was a bit graphic... EWWW!! MENTAL PICTURES! AH! THINK OF ENGLAND!*) and I found myself utterly perplexed on how these two people could ever be capable of learning the English language. Well, maybe not to that extent. It just proves we don't have a life.

Me: I want to fight you punk.
Fiona: LOL!
Fiona: BRING IT *BEEP*!!!!!!
Me: Oh yeah that’s right.
Me: You can’t kill me.
Me: Because I’ve got my helmet.
Fiona: Oh man...we’ve been over this...TAKE THE HELMET OFF! You’ll be lonely.
Me: No.
Me: Never.
Me: I could never take it off.
Fiona: But when we die...you’ll be lonely and want to take it off.
Me: Why are you dead? Did you get eaten by the carnivorous bed bugs? I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THEY’D GET YOU!!
Fiona: Never mind that. You’ll still be lonely and want to take it off.
Me: No.
Me: Then I’ll use it to shield myself from the world.
Me: To help me burrow into that hoe of self-need.
Me: Deeper and deeper into anti-socialism.
Me: So far, that I would cease to exist in the outside world!
Fiona: Umm...righto.
Me: Yeah.
Me: Exactly...that’s why it should never come off.

For reference, the helmet is a standard metal green army helmet. It resembles those used by Canadian troops in the first and second World Wars, but is covered in white out daisies.

Me: Sugar must have temporarily blocked the memory...
Fiona: Must have...or lack thereof.
Me: Yeah.
Me: We could get those huge ass pixie sticks again. The ones we had right before the math exam.
Me: Mmm...
Fiona: Umm...tee hee...that would be awesome!
Me: Calm down...it’s going to be okay!!!
Fiona: AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!...I mean....ok.
Me: We’re the sugar police...we’re going to have to err...confiscate your sugar.
Fiona: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Me: For...err...scientific tests...
Fiona: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
Fiona: NOT THE SUGAR!!!
Me: We simply need to um...*cough*...run a taste test to...err...make sure the sugar isn’t poisoned.
Me: For health reasons, of course.
Fiona: Umm...taste test???
Me: Err...yes.
Fiona: If it was poisoned...wouldn’t it kill you insteas of me?? Why bother...just get a fresh package of sugar that no one has tampered with!!
Me: Well, we’d have to test that too, you see. Someone could have tampered with that one.
Fiona: NO! We’d know if they did!
Me: No. Maybe they have special sugar tampering skills. They could have taken a took a course in Tampering With Sugar Without Making It Noticeable 101.
Me: It is for your own benefit.
Fiona: NO...I’ll be the guinea pig!
Me: I’m sorry. I can’t allow that Ma’am.
Fiona: YES YOU CAN!! I already signed the paper last week!
Me: No...those were the...err...wrong paper.
Me: They were..err...unproperly...mislabeled. That’s right. Unproperly mislabelled *mumbles to herself* or something of the sort...
Fiona: No they weren’t...they were given to me by your supervisor!
Me: I have no supervisor.
Fiona: Yes you do.
Me: I am God.
Me: *cough* Sorry. Had to get that out of my system.
Fiona: AHHH!!! I knew it was a scam I was getting myself into!
Me: What are you talking about?
Me: Just hand over the sugar miss.
Me: We will return it as soon as the tests are complete.
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Fiona: NO!
Me: *Grabs sugar and runs* Ha Ha. Sucker.
Fiona: And the chase is on.
Fiona: *Grabs shotgun and runs after her!*
Me: *runs into high powered jet*
Fiona: NOOOOOO!!
Fiona: *Shoots down the jet!*
Fiona: Tee Hee.
Me: *Jumps out of jet.*
Fiona: *Shoots.*
Me: *Flies to Neverland.*
Me: *Successfully escapes.*
Fiona: *Blows up Netherlands.*
Me: Uh...what did the Dutch ever do to you?
Fiona: *Neverland sorry.
Me: You can’t blow it up!!
Me: You can fly there and meet Peter Pan though.
Fiona: Fine...I’ll kill Pan and then it’ll self-destruct in...
Fiona: 3...
Fiona: 2...
Fiona: 1...
Me: *cough* Jeremy Sumpter.
Fiona: AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Me: *cough* Fiona crush...
Me: *cough* Grade seven.
Me: *cough* Ha ha ha.
Fiona: Grade 8 excuse me!
Me: Oh sorry.
Me: So you were half a teaspoon more mature.
Fiona: Oh shut up.
Me: Jeremy Sumpter. Neener neener neener.

Now you must all tease Fiona mercifully about something that happened a long, long time ago, but is still ridiculously funny. Especially when you're watching her squirm. Oh, the sweet sound of revenge. How I've missed thee!

*The whole "Think of England" has a backstory. I wasn't actually just randomly picking an interest to think about. The story is too long to post here, so if you feel like knowing a little tidbit of information that surely you can use later, inquire with me in the music room. Actually, I lied. Twice. I said the story is too long. It's not really, I just don't feel like writing it, and it probably won't be useful, ever.

dustanybodyno @ 2006-09-29T17:51:00

2006-09-29T22:37:57Z

Well, I'm posting now! I'm all excited because Kaylea left me a comment! Yay! I'm all excited, I seriously thought she was dead. Honest to God...

Well anyways, today was fun. Like all other fun days because of drama. It's fun. I can be myself and fit in. It's like a room full of Alisons. You're all cringing in your spinny chairs. But anyways, we get to go perform for elementary schools on Tuesday and Wednesday. That's pretty fun. I get to sing about socks. SOCKS! SOCKS! WONDERFUL SOCKS! I'M NEVER GOING TO TAKE THEM OFF! So, yeah...that's been stuck in my head all week. And in everybody else's...ha ha.

Did you know that today was National Hug A Vegetarian Day! I didn't know until I walked out of the school on my way to the bus and got hugged. I thought that was neat. I know some of you *cough* Kyle *cough* think vegetarianism is ridiculous, but I don't care. I will accept virtual hugs though. I like virtual hugs. And virtual cookies. You don't have to hug me though. Jeez.

Now back to the word of the day. The word of the day is...dum dum dumm. (Insert drum roll.)

I said INSERT DRUM ROLL! DO IT! NOW!

YOU'RE NOT ROLLING! ROLL HARDER!

Okay, here it is.

Or not.

toxin: a poison produced by a micro-organism or other organism and acting as an antigen in the body

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the toxin I was thinking of, but still.

Did you guys know that a turtle can breathe through its butt? How cool is that. I think I know some people like that...but we won't go there.

So, I think that's the end of my ramble. I didn't even really finish it, but I'll end it for your sake.

I have to go...I have to umm...clean my room. Actually, I do. I found a glass of milk under all the rubbish on my desk. The milk in the glass didn't move. I even poked it and it was hard. It's so gross. For those of you who thinks I'm a pig, it's only been there for two days. And to tell you the truth, I didn't even know I had a glass of milk.

Everything I learned, I learned on the street. Sesame street that is...

2006-09-26T21:02:24Z

Well, I figured I should update, since I haven't in a long time. So, it's probably going to be a load of crap. I mean a load of unwanted, unnecessary rambling. Well actually, it probably won't be a big load, it will probably be like a little load.

Nothing big really happened today. In French, we watched Pearl Harbour. In drama we had to do an improv with three random items. My group got a swimming pool, a giant panda and froot loops. I used the line, 'OH MY GOD!? DOES ANYONE HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!? BECAUSE YOU'RE PANTS ARE ON FIRE!' But the girl I was talking to in the scene didn't get it. Honestly, people! Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire. Your pants are on fire, if you're lying. Be gob and be jabbers, get with the program.

And now like every Sesame Street show, I'm going to talk about the letter of the day. Today's letter of the day is C. Do you know any words that begin with C? Well, if you do, you are wrong. The only word that I will accept is the word of the day. Can anyone guess it? No, you can't. You're wrong. Today's word of the day is:

Carrion: the decaying flesh of dead animals.

And that's all for today. If I had something to write about, it might not be so lame and disgusting.

C is for Carrion...no maybe I shouldn't. That's just wrong.

Gary, Indiana. Gary, Indiana. Gary, Indiana, not Loueetheeana... MAHA!

Help prevent this poor child from a walloping...donate a suggestion today.

2006-09-04T01:43:43Z

Hello everyone. Or no one. Anyways, I need your help. I have to make a list of my ten favourite fictional characters. So please help me! Maha. Make as many suggestions as possible. And they have to be legit. By legit I mean that they have to provide a result on google. It's urgent or I will get beaten by Jibba the Hut. No, not beaten. She might even wallop me!

I already have three for sure, Scar (from The Lion King), Vicky Pollard (from Little Britain), and Roy McCooney (from Little Britain). I just can't decide what characters I want for what books, because I'm only allowed ten. Some books I just have trouble choosing exactly what characters. They can be from movies and television too! Help me. Please. I'm on my metaphorical knees.

dustanybodyno @ 2006-09-02T18:43:00

2006-09-02T22:37:09Z

I'm tired and far too high on advil (for a headache) and eighties music to write a decent entry. So here's the crappiest update anyone's ever seen. I'm only writing this because I think it's sad that I haven't written in almost three weeks. I haven't even been that busy. Just lazy. So now I'm going to amaze you with Alison's word of the day.

euthanasia: noun the painless killing of a patient suffering from an incurable disease or in an irreversible coma.

So yeah. There you go. The lamest word of the day ever. See everybody on Tuesday! Everyone in band we have practice Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday after school to prepare for the 100 Years of Education thing Mr. Mills was talking about in June. See you at school. Or at the grocery store tomorrow night if you forget to buy stuff for school. Mmm...pudding.

I have to go...I have to go sharpen my knife set. It's kind of funny, because I do have a knife set. It's under my bed. I don't even know why my parents let me pick it in that draw... Of course, I'm not allowed to use it. Just look at it. I don't know what I'd use it for anyway. I could use the meat cleaver to wield at people that are trying to egg my house on Halloween. I even got permission from my sister.

Screwdrivers, Frostees, Crocs, and a man that looks creepily like David Thewlis, oh MY!

2006-08-18T02:39:59Z

Does anyone notice it's getting quieter around Live Journal? Well at least the section where the band members from CPHS dominate. That tiny little speck in the mass of jarbled ansty teenage ramblings. Well, I, nor anyone I know, writes ansty ramblings, but you get the picture out there. Those select groups who wear eyeliner (I don't even wear eyeliner), listen to screamy music (what else would it be called?), and cry themselves to sleep (what about loud manical laughter?). Personally, if I had a problem, I would just attack it with a scewdriver. Maybe not. But imagining it looks like fun.

I went to see a movie on Friday. Personally, I just went there for the Frostee, and to get out of the house. We were going to see some movie, but we were too late, so we ended up going see John Tucker Must Die at around 10'ish at night. The place was packed. I mean packed. Right down to the two couples and my friend, Becky and I. Yep. There was only six people in the entire theatre, including us. Anyways, the movie was okay. My favourite part was when the mother, played by Jenny McCarthy, was washing the dishes, and I was like, "Hey Becky, she's got your dishes." And she did.

Maybe I should get on with my ramblings...This one's for Kaylea. Today a man went through my cash with orange Crocs! See, Kaylea has an obsession with Crocs. She, herself, owns a green pair. But the pair this man was wearing was BRIGHT orange. Like neon. So, I thought to myself, we should support men who have enough courage to wear neon orange Crocs. It takes a lot of guts.

It takes so much courage, that I made a picture.

I had another man go through my cash a couple of weeks ago and he looked a lot like David Thewlis. He was so eerily similar it was...er...eery. Well, minus the accent. So bonus points to whoever can name a movie he's been in, along with his characters name. And no cheating. No googling him. I'll be watching. I know where you live. And I also know that you don't lock the third window from the left. I will hunt you down with my screwdriver. I swear to the orangey goodness of an IRN BRU.

Well, I have to go. I have to...go find a really rusty looking screwdriver.

Dance, dance, wherever ye may be! I am the Lord of the dance says he!

2006-08-13T06:15:52Z

Here's a wonderful rambling on my vacation. I figure I had to write something, since I've been gone a while. I had to cut the text because there's pictures and it was making my page messed up.

Well, I haven't written in a while. I've been enjoying myself, relaxing at my cottage. There I was able to go swimming, read, and be ripped to pieces on the tube of death. I swear. I'll prove it to you. I have cuts and bruises. Cuts and bruises. Honestly people. I do. And for the record, I do not bruise like a peach. However while on my "vacation" (as I like to call it) I brought a couple of books along with me. I managed to read as much as possible before I was viciously tugged from my book to "enjoy the water." Okay, so maybe I wasn't viciously tugged, I might have gone on free will, but still. Some of you must get that feeling.

Silence.

Well, anyway, moving on. My "Uncle" and "cousins" were visiting from the Toronto area and we took them to the War Museum. I've been to the old War Museum, but I hadn't been to the new museum. I really enjoyed the Special Exhibition "Clash of the Empires". And I liked the database where you could look up attestation papers of the men and women who served in any war. The replicas, like the trenches were fantastically well put together, albeit a little too realistic for me. I didn't like the trench replica. It gave me a creepy feeling, and it wasn't close to what the real thing was like. Actually now that I think about it, I liked the entire museum. I've decided that for my sixteenth birthday I want a tank. Some teenagers ask for a car, I ask for a tank. It can't be too big though. It can't be too conspicuous. It has to be subtle. Or as subtle as a tank can be. Nothing too high-tech. Just enough to annihilate a small building. Anyways, it was a fantastic museum and I highly recommend you all visit it. When I went they were conducting surveys. If you're sixteen and live in the Ottawa area, take ten minutes to fill it out and you will receive free admission. Although, if you purchase your admission ticket, the proceeds will go to a great cause. Alright back to the story. After we visited the museum, we stopped by had some lunch. Mmm...East Side Mario's. They really do mean never ending garlic bread and salad. We tried. Trust me. Yadda yadda yadda. Then we drove home. The drive was...pleasant. In an odd kind of way. Mentally unstable girl + electrical tape + ratchet = Nazi. How it works out I don't know.

Yeah. Kind of scary, huh? Who would want to spend a two hour car ride with this?

After that, err...experience, we went to the Maxville Highland Games(AKA Glengarry Highland Games). The largest highland games in North America. Did anyone else go? Well, it was good fun. There was this shop and it carried a whole bunch of football (soccer) merchandise for all the teams in the English Premier league (Chelsea (ugh), Arsenal (ugh), and of course Man U <3) The owner and I started talking...blah blah blah...who's your favourite player...Rooney...I bet you liked Beckham (*cough* traitor even though no one can bend a ball like Beckham)...blah blah blah...and then he ended up giving me a free bag. I was going to buy it anyway, but he told me to take it anyway because I was such a big fan. Not the ceiling ones. The fanatic ones. Yeah, those ones. I just stared at him, and my "cousin" Sarah had to hit me. It was great. I wanted to hug him. But I didn't because that would be weird because I don't know him. And he could have AIDS, because it is true that everyone in fact does have AIDS. Especially the railings in Toronto. Don't touch them, you don't want to get AIDS. Well I'm getting a little off topic here. Woo hoo. It was a blast. The mass band did an amazing rendition of Amazing Grace. It's so much better on the bagpipes. I have a record with that song on it, but it's a stupid version sung by Anne Murray. :( Does anyone remember her children's songs? There's a hippo in my bathtub... No? Alright then. Never mind. Moving on.

So from Maxville we drove to Montreal to go to the Montreal Highland games. Have you ever heard a Scot sing along to "All Right Now" and "Knights in White Satin"? It's funny. Believe me. We just kept calling his name "JIMMY!" just so he would answer. He had such a cool accent. Oh. He played the bass drum in my "Uncle's" band. Yeah. I would so play the bass drum. The games in Montreal were fun too. I ate the best chips in the world. They used a special drill to cut the potatoes in a curly way. I don't know. It's hard to explain, but they were good. Really good. The beer tent was where most of the excitement was though. I wasn't drinking. I don't like ale. Yuck. There was good entertainment (Salty Dog was there again!! Yes! We are the drunk and disorderly!), good spirits and good craic. Well, it was probably due to the consumption of alcohol, but what else would you expect? Here are some pictures for those of you who are Scottishly deprived. That doesn't make any sense. But you get the point.

And on the eighth day, God created bagpipes.

Ye olde beer tent. I had to add this picture.

UP YER KILT!

On the ride home, after waving psychotically at some passerbys then deciding no to because they were French drivers (for some reason drivers in Quebec always drive crazy, sorry I'm being stereotypical), we stopped to get some gas. While my "Uncle" was filling up with gas (he was still wearing his kilt), this scary man came up to talk to him. He asked him if he wore his kilt rregimental (traditionally). You get the point?

Awkward silence. Muffled cough.

Yep. Point firmly grasped. But it was scary. He wasn't fooling around like a joke. He was acting dodgy. He seemed drunk or weird somehow. I don't know, but he was creepy.

Moving on with the story, we left Montreal so that I could come back and treat my burns. Well actually, it was because my "Uncle" had to work, but still. After they left, I went to my cottage where I met my real cousins. I jumped off cliffs and cut my heel open. My reaction was funny. I was just like "Oh. I cut my foot." while everyone was asking if I was okay. But it's pretty neat, I even had to wrap it up. I had to walk funny for a while and I looked like an eejit, but I'll get a cool looking scar. It was a fun weekend. I'm not even being sarcastic or anything.

I have found my new addiction. IRN BRU. It's this drink kind of like Orange Crush only with a little extra kick of something. Oh, and I'm also addicted to Fry's Turkish Delight and Flying Saucer Candies. Mmm...soooo good. The only problem is that they were imported from the United Kingdom. So, if I want to buy another IRN BRU, I have to fly to Scotland. With the money I don't have. And I don't think that "I have to fly to Scotland to go buy several thousand crates of a fizzy drink" excuse will work on my parents.

Praise the orange holiness. The orange beacon of scrumpdiddlyumptiousness!

Even if I got over to Scotland, they probably wouldn't let me bring back the crates full of cans of liquid. I mean apparently you're not even supposed to bring toothpaste on an airplane. Unless I go by rowboat. It would only take me several years. Maybe by the time I get there the commotion will die down, and I can fly back. I think that several thousand crates of fizzy drinks would surely sink my rowboat.

Well, that was a long ramble of nothingness. I should probably get off now, because I have to work tomorrow. I should probably get some sleep so I can be all refreshed. I would rather have the entire Scotland the Brave anthem stuck in my head than half of it.

Well, I have to go now. I have to...um...change my feet.

Major Tom to Ground Control...

2006-07-26T22:56:10Z

Maha. Today has been fun. I didn't work, so I didn't do much. I basically found a new obsession. COLOURBARS. I don't know really why, but I did. And I tried to make my own and I came out pleasantly suprised.

Here's the picture. Bring back memories of the Alberta trip. Yeah. Does for me.

Hee hee. Does anybody have any other pictures from the Alberta trip? If so, I would really appreciate it if they send them to me! Especially if you can link them to some sort of inside joke.

So...I have to go...umm...take pictures of Moses.

No really.

I was nauseous and tingly all over. I was either in love or I had smallpox. I'm thinking the latter.

2006-07-26T06:19:23Z

Today was okay. Boring. I worked. BUT THANK THE LORD, HALLELUJAH! THEY CHANGED THE MOVIE IN THE ELECTRONICS! To tell you the truth, I was seriously sick of watching The Rescuers for the billionth time in a row. I still don't even know the plot to that story.

I found this quiz while surfing on the internet, and deemed it somewhat worthy.

Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with Alison's Disease
Cause:	lack of wax fruit
Symptoms:	being unable to close mouth, urine colour changes, frequent lack of reflection in mirrors, extreme elbow pain
Cure:	wake up and realise it was all just a dream
Enter your name, for your own diagnosis:

So, yeah. This bottom link has nothing to do with the above.

I'm hungry. Click Here!

If you did it, thank you. And if you joined, "welcome to the shambling, decaying world of unlife! As a newly-infected zombie, your raison d'etre is to catch and devour the brains of the living, as clumsily as possible. See if you can trick your closest friends into a horrible skull-crunching death! They'll thank you in the end." And I did.

I have to go...I have to umm...delint my couch.

A quiz full of quizziness...actually it's not really a quiz

2006-07-24T03:55:10Z

Yet again, another test suggested on dmitri_merkov's page (originally suggested to him by dorito_monk). Here are my results.

Advanced Global Personality Test Results

Extraversion	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Stability	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Orderliness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Accommodation	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Interdependence	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Intellectual	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Mystical	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Artistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Religious	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Hedonism	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Materialism	\|\|	10%
Narcissism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Adventurousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Work ethic	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Self absorbed	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Conflict seeking	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Need to dominate	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%

Romantic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Anti-authority	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Wealth	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Dependency	\|\|\|\|	16%
Change averse	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Cautiousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Individuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Sexuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Peter pan complex	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Physical security	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Physical Fitness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Paranoia	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Vanity	\|\|	10%
Hypersensitivity	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Female cliche	\|\|	10%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Stability results were moderately high which suggests you are relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.

Orderliness results were moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.

Extraversion results were high which suggests you are overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense too often of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.

trait snapshot:
expressive, open, self revealing, loves large parties, loud, social, outgoing, does not like social isolation, assertive, social chameleon, positive, always busy, likes to fit in, likes to stand out, enjoys leadership, brutally honest, trusting, optimistic, desires attention, dominant, aggressive, wants to be understood

You have nothing to worry about...

2006-07-24T03:12:56Z

Here are my results to the "Would You Have Been A Nazi?" Test suggested by dmitri_merkov.

The Expatriate
Achtung! You are 30% brainwashworthy, 40% antitolerant, and 33% blindly patriotic

Congratulations! You are not susceptible to brainwashing, your values and cares extend beyond the borders of your own country, and your Blind Patriotism does not reach unhealthy levels. If you had been German in the 30s, you would've left the country.

One bad scenario -- as I hypothetically project you back in time -- is that you just wouldn't have cared one way or the other about Nazism. Maybe politics don't interest you enough. But the fact that you took this test means they probably do. I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt.

Did you know that many of the smartest Germans departed prior to the beginning of World War II, because they knew some evil shit was brewing? Brain Drain. Many of them were scientists. It is very possible you could have been one of them.

Conclusion: born and raised in Germany in the early 1930's, you would not have been a Nazi.

The Would You Have Been A Nazi? Test
- it rules -

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 22% on brainwashworthy

You scored higher than 80% on antitolerant

You scored higher than 55% on patriotic

Link: The Would You Have Been a Nazi Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

See nothing to be afraid of. Maybe you should check out Kyle's results, they're not too scary.

Die you dirtbags!

2006-07-24T02:11:16Z

Well today I did nothing. I worked and then worked some more. When I got home I attempted to climb onto my roof. It didn't go too well. Especially with my parents. Well it wouldn't have, if they knew...

Anyways, I'm currently reading Jibbitha's post. Yay! She posted! It only took her like thirteen weeks, but still! Now I'm using this program called Xoftspy or something to get all the nasties out of my computer. DIE! DIE! DIE! ALL YOU VIRUSES ARE GOING TO BURN IN TECHNOLOGICAL HELL! THAT'S RIGHT! TAKE THAT YOU DIRTBAGS!! MAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! Go you little Xoftspy.

Now I think I should probably stop. For my own good you know.

So, I guess I have to go...I have to umm...stockpile some Nuclear Missiles.

Don't go Middle-Eastern on me! Come back the West!

2006-07-24T01:57:46Z

Well, the last twenty twenty-eight hours have been...madness. I got off work yesterday at eight o'clock and was greeted by two friends, one entirely too hyper for her own good and the other dressed as a pirate. Any guesses on who the pirate was? Now, imagine a car ride with them into the city. Yeah. Now throw in some fake accents (mostly on my part), the PotC score, and a few weird comments later and we were there. "Don't go Middle-Eastern on me! Come back to the West!!" Three hours, fifteen pounds of sugar, several more fake accents Arr! Me be wantin a ticket to see Pirates of the Caribbean at 9!, a pirate costume, and several confused theatre workers later we got back to Fiona's. From there I was assaulted way too many times in the dark, and called emotionally retarded. Honestly. How are you emotionally retarded? Finally after about three tries at Funkytown, and the realization that the pull-out couchy thing was bouncy, we fell asleep.

AGAIN, I was rudely awoken at ungodly hours of the morning, this time by a large mass of matter flying at my face. Okay, it was eleven o'clock and the mass of matter was Jibbitha. But still. Who wants to be woken up like that? Then for the next hour and a half I was squished and smushed and groped and hit and made fun of...and just generally abused. ?There were three on the hide-a-bed and the little one (me) said, "ROLL THE HELL OVER!"

Yeah. So then we were cruelly forced out of Fiona's house (not after a few good jumps on her matress and a few pieces of crusty toast). Because we were so cruelly forced, poor Jibbitha was left with no other option but go into town and wait for her ride, which she was informed would be six hours late. I, being the completely selfless, generous, wonderful person I am, agreed to go with her. For the record, there was no physical force involved. We did a lot of walking. Random walking. We walked to the Duck Lady’s house, and then to the park. I was jumping on the bouncy thing and I cut my leg. Jibbitha was laughing. Now it hurts. But don’t worry I don’t have AIDS Jibbitha. There were a few random acts of insanity. ”I've just violated my fictional friend!” “Don’t touch the railings, you might get AIDS.” “That’s why Americans are so fat. They don’t eat their fibre. Us Canadians, we eat our GOD DAMN FIBRE!”

Then we walked all the way to the Grocery Store so that Jibbitha could hand in her and Sylvester’s application. We ended up staying and getting something to eat. Who in their right minds hangs out at their work on their day off?? Anyways, after that when we were walking back, I grabbed a giant Cattail (it was taller than me) and walked the rest of the way back as if I was trying to hide behind it. People looked at me funny.

Then after another hour of walking around and standing in the grossest phone booth ever, we went back to my place because Jibbitha’s dad was going to be a little longer. So we watched The Forty Year Old Virgin and the ending of Madagascar. You know how I know you’re gay? You were holding each other ever so gently...

Well...I have to go now...I have to uh...chain myself to some Oil Refineries.

Go Team Ontario!

2006-07-21T15:11:01Z

I feel like I've been forcefully dragged out of my bed by the shrill ringing of a telephone in the early hours of the morning to hear laughter from my friends. Oh wait. That happened. And okay, so it wasn't that early. Maybe 9:30ish...but still. And now I have to bike over there and I'm trying to stall so that I don't have to bike all the way.

I watched the opening ceremonies of the Canadian Special Olympics last night. Best of Luck to all the athletes competing in Brandon, Manitoba today!

I'm going to see Pirates of the Caribbean again today. Does anyone have a pirate costume I can borrow?

Well, I have to go now...I have to...um...prechew some food.

P.S. I think I might draw a picture of what I think Great-Uncle Harry might look like...as a person Jibbitha. As a person.

If you have telekinesis, please raise my hand.

2006-07-21T15:07:24Z

Well...well...well...I didn't really do too much today. I sat around. And around. And around. Like a record, baby, right round, round, round. And then Fiona and Jibbitha called me. And then I went over there. And then I laughed a lot. There were a lot of sick minded jokes passed between us. Seriously, do you expect me not to laugh when you tell me that you met your boyfriend's great-uncle Harry? Honestly, and they should know me well enough to know that I'm going to bring it up at every opportune moment. I mean come on, great-uncle Harry? Yeah, then we had pizza. And I ate half the pizza by myself. It was good. Fiona was the only one who was brave enough to try my pizza. Muaahahahhaa. For the record, it was only cheese. Then we had cupcakes...they were good. I like cupcakes. They had candles in them for Jibbitha's birthday. Yay. Even though it was on the fourteenth. Anyways, it was fun. Then I had to leave. :( Do you know how hard it is to fit a bicycle into a car? It took my sister and I about twenty minutes to fit it in. Then of course, for our efforts we got frosters. What more do you expect? Mine was really sour. And that was the extent of my super fantasticly sad day. Remind me to get a social life the next time I go grocery shopping.

I have to go now...I have to um...go through other people's rubbish.

I like Red Lobster

2006-07-21T14:55:06Z

Well, today was fun. Well, not really until after lunch. My friend, Becky and I went into the city, and we ate at Red Lobster. Yumm! It was...umm...fun. I named all the lobsters in the tank, and got pretty attached to my favourite, Pinchy. Becky and I were sitting in a booth and for a while no one was sitting beside us or behind us, so we weren't annoying anyone while we were giggling like schoolgirls*, ramming the most delicious dinner scones down our foodholes, requesting more and then not-so-secretly trying to smuggle them home. Well, they never got home, we ate them. They were just soooo good. Then people did sit near us, but we didn't notice. So when we did the little hide behind the divider and slowly slide up until you can see the booth beside you we got quite a suprise. We got weird stares from that man for the rest of lupper (between lunch and supper). Then, somehow, we got onto the subject of Madonna. Becky started singing Material Girl and I broke into a little too loud version of Like A Virgin (complete with dance moves). Yeah, I got a few weird looks. I also loved the look of confusion on the poor waitress's face when I asked for Shrimp Pasta without the Shrimp. I'm suprised we didn't get kicked out, but we lasted long enough to get to the mints. Hallelujah! And they were good.

*Please note I do not giggle like a schoolgirl, I in fact laugh like a raving lunatic. You know that one person in the movie theatre that laughs at everything really loud. Yeah, that one. Next to the guy with the shoes and the hair. That's me.

So yeah...I got to go...I have to umm...count my socks.

HAPPEE BIRTHDAE JIBBITHA!!

2006-07-21T14:45:14Z

Hi. Happy Birthday 16th Jibbitha! It's so weird. I can't believe you're sixteen. Well I can believe it seeing as though you were born in 1990, but I can't seem to believe. Well that doesn't make too much sense either, but you know what I mean. Or not. Happee Birthdae nonetheless.

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
FROM ALL OF US TO YOU!
WE WISH IT WAS OUR BIRTHDAY
SO WE COULD PARTY TOO!!

P.S. The picture's for you.

Confessions from a Hippy

2006-07-13T05:57:56Z

Well. It's one o'clock, and I feel like blogging. I don't know what I want to blog about though. I just decided like writing because I haven't in a couple of days. Anyway, so I'm sitting here and this girl calls into the radio station I'm listening to, asking to play the Backstreet Boys. I'm cringing in my spinny chair. They're singing something about never breaking someone's heart. I'll break their heart. I'll cut out and plop it on a plastic tray. (*Cough* Sex Pistols- Problem..."Eat your heart out on a plastic tray...") In case you didn't know why I was randomly talking about putting their heart on a plastic tray. Now there's this Mariah Carey song on, and she's singing about how a woman's love is what she needs cause she needs to be loved desperately. Something about tender loving or something. I can't tell if she's saying man or woman. Is she poofy? I don't know... And now Sean Paul's on and I can't hear a word he's saying. Something about a llama?? What? I can't seem to find a station that will play anything other than air humping music (songs that involve a lot of explicit lyrics and body shaking to increase their popularity). I don't really want to listen to you sing about your anatomy. Nor do I want to go to your damn candy shop. Honestly. For once I would like to listen to a performer who doesn't have to use their body to sell records. What kind of image is that sending to little children? Let's go walk around in mini-skirts so short we can see your knickers before we even bend over! I don't want to listen to another song that's sole purpose is to provide a rythmic beat that allows people to grind each other in a club. The music industry is like the fashion industry. They mass produce musicians and groups like clothes. They produce a billion different artists that are all the same, all following the current trend in music, and then they become unpopular, die down and break up when the trend dies. What happened to musicians that made it on pure, raw talent? People like the Beatles. I'm pretty sure agents didn't say "Hmm...they're sort of attractive, let's hire them. We might be able to get a couple million out of them." They actually performed for the satisfaction of providing their fans with real, honest-to-god music. Some of you may not like the Beatles, but you have to admit that their lyrics are definately better than those of this age. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't say that all music of this age is bad, there are exceptions. Anyway, my opinions may be different than yours. I'm sorry if I offended one of the artists you like. But I have different tastes than you. Must be my hippy ways.

Do rhetorical questions bother you?

2006-07-10T05:37:22Z

After randomly remembering the song "Blowin' in the Wind" by Bob Dylan, I decided to set out on a quest. Far yonder to seek out the answers to these perilous queries. In other words. I decided to come up with answers for the series of rhetorical questions in the song.

How many roads must a man walk down, before you call him a man?
In order to be considered a man you must walk down Zzxyx Road three times, walk backwards fifty paces while reciting the lyrics to Nazareth’s "Love Hurts" in Pig Latin, complete three back hand springs, followed by two aerials, release a flock of yellow spotted turtle doves, and ride a dog named Candy bought from an Indian man with six toes and rides a camel named Sandy.

How many seas must a white dove sail, before she sleeps in the sand?
None. Doves don’t sleep in the sand. They sleep in dove motels. With little beds and little drawers filled with dove sized Gideon bibles.

How many times must the cannon balls fly, before they're forever banned?
They must fly seventeen thousand six hundred and forty-nine point thirty-four kajillion times ten twenty-fifths to the power of eighty-two times pi before they are forever banned. But actually, they won’t be banned, seeing as though they are pretty much obsolete. They’ve become to loud, large and heavy for this day and age. Technology has improved. In this century we have resorted to new forms of weaponry to annihilate people. Nuclear bombs, rocket grenade launchers, those little plastic swords we get with those fancy drinks. On guard. But we’ve lost touch with our origins. There is just something so gratifying and nostalgic about seeing a giant mass of metal flying at something at very fast speeds.

How many times must a man look up, before he can see the sky?
That was not a rhetorical question. If a man looks up, he will see the sky. No matter what. Unless he’s in a building. Then he sees the ceiling. But who would look up inside, expecting to see the sky. A nutcase? Or someone with a skylight. Damn those blighters. But then again, maybe the area you are staying in is heavily populated and therefore subject to copious amounts of smog! Then no matter how hard you looked all you would see was a black blanket of smoggy smogness, choking you silently, cutting off your air supply. Killing you softly with its smoginess!! Oh god. You should run. It’s killing you softly, with its sm-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-og!! But even then, you would know it’s the sky. So, no matter what, if you look up outside you will see the sky or see what should be the sky, therefore in turn becoming the sky!!

How many ears must one man have, before he can hear people cry?
Let me guess. One. Oh. Ding ding. I am right. In order to hear someone you need to have at least one fully functioning ear. It doesn’t even have to function perfectly. As long as it could hear even a little bit. Even with a hearing aid. This is a stupid question. Honestly. If people have ears to hear, they are going to hear people cry. And why are the people crying the first place. What the hell are you doing to them? I’ll call the cops, I swear to god. Just let them go. I know you like bondage and everything. But this is neither the time or place, okay. It will be alright. I’ll talk you through it. Just let the poor people go.

How many deaths will it take till he knows, that too many people have died?
I told you to let the damn people go!! See what you did. You tied them too tight. I know you said the noose added to the effect. But you’re supposed to leave it a little bit loose to allow for air flow! God. I told you we could work your bondage addiction out. And what did you do? You went all frickin’ axe murderer on me!! Mum’s going to have my head for this. You know what she’ll say? “I told you to keep an eye on your brother. You know that he’s weird like that. You know that he’s “that way,” like the Backstreet Boys.” “Mummmmm.” I’ll say. “He’s only a bit poofy.” “Don’t you give me attitude.” “Mum, I’m not.” “That’s it, end of story. Anyways. Don’t make that face. You look like a pig. Speaking of pigs, you should lose some weight. You know, starve yourself. Make you’re self all pretty for the men.” “Mum. I’m not fat.” “That’s right. There’s a beautiful person under all that fat. But anyway, just look at the state of you. It’s pathetic. You’re thirty years old and still living with your parents.” “Mum. Please. Not now.” “Darling, you know you really should try some dust. It’s very low in fat. You can have as much dust as you like.”

How many years can a mountain exist, before it's washed to the sea?
Poodle. Grub Snorka Snorka. Bubbles. AH...PUSH IT. PUSH IT REAL GOOD.

How many years can some people exist, before they’re allowed to be free?
How many times do I have to mention to let the nice people go. You’ve already almost killed the whole lot. Let them be. LET THERE BE PEACE ON EARTH, AND LET IT BEGIN WITH ME. LET THERE BE PEACE ON EARTH, THE PEACE THAT WAS MEANT TO BE. By the way, they won’t last very long if you keep hanging them like that. I told you, you have to allow for airflow. If you’re planning to make an underwater living quarters, you have to make an air pocket. People don’t have gills. If they did that would be pretty darn cool though. Then we could grow tails and become merpeople. And we could talk to each other in MERMISH!!! SCREEEEECH SCHREEEEECH!!! SCHREECHY SCHREECHY SCHREECHUM!!!

How many times can a man turn his head, pretending he just doesn’t see?
Which way is he turning his head? If he’s turning his head towards what he’s pretending not to see, he will obviously see it your eejit. I mean it will be right there, in front of his bloody face. You can’t really miss something when it’s practically rammed up your nostrils. But if he’s turning his head away from what he’s pretending not to see, he won’t be able to see it because he’s facing away from it, right. Only the problem is, that if he’s turning his head away from something he’s pretending not to see, then in fact he knows it’s there, he’s just pretending he doesn’t see it. So in fact, he would have seen it, in order to know about it. Unless some squirrel came by and told him about it, which is highly unlikely because he can’t speak squirrel. And anyway, this questions doesn’t make any sense. If he’s pretending he doesn’t see, how many times does he need to turn his head? He only needs to turn it once. In fact he doesn’t even need to turn his head. He can just pretend it’s all an illusion. He can knock himself out, or gnaw off his own arm to distract him. The possibilities are limitless.

Well. After analysing the rhetorical questions locked up in the lyrics from Bob Dylan’s song Blowin’ in the Wind, I have provided you with the answers. But now that I think about it, please disregard the above answers that you spent nearly ten minutes reading and trying to comprehend, as the only correct answers to all of the questions are blowin’ in the wind. That’s right my children, blowin’ in the wind. Like a plastic bag, cruelly being pushed every which way, forced to follow the wind’s pattern, unable to float freely on it’s own, a subject of conformity. Tearing apart. It’s little heart of crumply white plastic being shredded to pieces. Blowin’ in the wind...

If you believe in faeries, clap your hands.

2006-07-10T03:15:59Z

Here I am again. Posting again. Fully knowing that Kaylea is still at camp, unable to read this, but yet, I still am posting... I don't know whether or not I should add my "friends" from my other account here, or just keep this account as a way to tell Kaylea how I'm doing without having to buy stamps. I know, I know Kaylea, I could just send an e-mail. But hotmail is always finicky with me. And this way is more fun. When you get all settled up at your new home, let me know what I should do. Anyways, back to me. Just kidding. But not really. I think I found my addiction!! (See list that I haven't posted yet.) See today was excruciatingly warm, well not really. It was about 30 degrees, and uncomfortable. So guess what I was doing. I was in Tim Hortons buying a hot chocolate. That's right. Does that sound crazy? Have I lost my mind? This might have you questioning, did I eat paint chips as a kid? The answer my friends, is blowing in the wind. By that I mean yes. Eat the eggshell coloured ones. They're the best. They taste like Tofurky. I like bold. It makes me feel important. CAPITALS MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I'M YELLING.

Out! Out, you demons of STUPIDITY!!

2006-07-09T05:14:25Z

Well today I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean with my friend and her boyfriend. Talk about three's company. I literally sang the ONE IS THE LONELIEST NUMBER song while I was sitting in the back seat of her van, BY MYSELF. I feel so alone. Jibbitha, you should have been there. I know you won't read this. But you should have! The movie was good. It was really funny at sometimes, well rather, I found it funny. Like when Jack's pulling out his sword in slow motion to battle the sea demon. And the line (said by Elizabeth Swann) "If it weren't for these bars I'd have you right now." They meant it in a different way, but I was laughing loudly nonetheless. Except for the ending. They make it all cliffhangery to try to get you to see the trequal (is that even a word?? well anyways, the third one). I still liked it though, except for the fact that I had to pee every ten minutes because I had bought a litre of lemonade (you know those ones that come in the cardboard containers with the spouts?) and insisted on drinking it all right outside the movie theatre because they wouldn't let me in with it. Then I decided to buy an Icee, because honestly, you can't see a movie without having an Icee. So then I really had to pee. And then this jerk sitting beside me started getting real angry at the people getting up during the movie. I mean I totally agree that people that talk during movies are right down there in that special level of hell reserved for murderers and child molesters (if one thing pisses me off it's people talking real loud in movie theatres), but honestly you can't help it if people have unusually small bladders. You wouldn't want to make them hold it, because then they might just release it and it would get all over their chair. Then the next time you and some friends go to see a movie, you could end up sitting in the pee chair. And then the pee chair particles would be touching you. And you don't want that, do you? So, I understand if he could get angry about people talking (which they weren't), but give the poor large bladder deprived people a break. It's not their fault they have small bladders. I felt like turing and telling him to let the damn people pee in peace. Maybe I'm just being prejudice because I had to pee, I guess it could get annoying after the tenth or so person, but still... Anyways, after we saw the movie, we refilled our impossibly large popcorn and drink (YEAH FREE REFILLS!!!). I bought the largest bag of gummy bears I have ever seen, and I'm still feeling that sugar buzz (you couldn't tell from above, could you?). I even decided to try my hand at the basketball game. You know the one where you have score all those baskets in a certain time to get points. And yeah, we sucked. I do mean plural, there were two of us trying, and we only managed to score 29 points. It might have been because we only had one hand free?? But still. I suck at basketball. They didn't have any racing games at the arcade, but they did have a Lord of the Rings piball game. I mean Lord of the Rings pinball? It was cool though. I should probably stop writing now, before I say something embarassing. Kind of like on the ride home, when I was trying to expain to Fiona how paper heart could bleed. "A wood made of heart..." I tried to say a heart made of wood, (to tell you the truth I don't even know how the whole wood thing got in there in the first place) and now Fiona keeps making fun of me. "Well you can take your fat fighters and shove them up your fat arse! That’s right, screeeeeeeeeeew you!" And that's a direct quote. Not from me though. So neener neener neener. Wow. It's already 1 o'clock, and I have to work tomorrow. So, ladies and gentlemen, have a nice night, or morning rather. Even though no one actually reads this yet, because I still have to add people to my f-list and get my other friends to move their arses and register. But I'm a little too lazy right now. It involves actually pressing a lot of buttons. Well, anyways, don't let the carniverous bed bugs bite. They'll get you real good.