If you try to type while listening to “California”, you’ll soon discover that the only sentence your mind is able to process is “If you try to type while listening to ‘California’, you’ll soon discover that the only sentence your mind is able to process is ‘If you try to type while listening to “California”…etc.
Really long story short: It’s Difficult. So what does that mean? Headphones and studying = not such a great idea.
Yes, it’s time for Installment Number Three of the week that is: Exam. Sleep deprived and mildly grumpy, we enter week nine of this term, ready for another rip-roaring five days of Rexvor Namralos (gibberish for “I can’t think of an adjective”).
The days leading up are fully filled with frantic frenzies of study, intense neurological abuse and lack of sleep. By the time you emerge, your BIOS (Basic Input Output System) will be completely equipped with (what should be) accrued knowledge in all matters spectrum, hopefully having not gone off on a tangent during study time.
[Omit 73 pages of confused, subject-related rambling here]
So before wading back into my schoolbag, I just want to note some unlikely similarities between petrol and sleep in year 12:
· The year progresses, and they both become less affordable.
· They are both a form of fuel.
· You can run on empty for a few days, but it will really mess with your mechanics.
· You can only have a specific amount of either. To much or two little is bad
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
CHASE!
I am typing in this space,
Words that rhyme…
"Ace," "lace," "face"?
Would this poem be better,
Had I used "race"?
I could talk of cars,
Could’ve been a better base,
But I did not,
So in any case,
I’ll confuse them all,
By calling it: “CHASE!”
Words that rhyme…
"Ace," "lace," "face"?
Would this poem be better,
Had I used "race"?
I could talk of cars,
Could’ve been a better base,
But I did not,
So in any case,
I’ll confuse them all,
By calling it: “CHASE!”
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Numbers
"So, I guess today's, like, the apocalypse." It's Tuesday, and also 6/6/06, so it seems fitting to start with an "OC-esque" opening line. [ This would then be followed by about 10 seconds worth of awkward eye contact, then multiple shots of surfers and sunshine, possibly with some version of "had a bad day", or something of that persuasion playing in the background, before cutting to the opening credits ]
But back to the point of the numerical significance of today. It being the "Devil's Day" and all, it seems surprisingly devoid of horses, let alone dark hooded skeletal figures (which is oddly very Lord of the Rings...) bathed in fire appearing in a line accross the sky...not that I'm complaining. I tried to find out what's supposed to actually be happening today, and sources vastly differ, from the Apocalypse, revelation of the antichrist (one source believes theres one in every generation which makes today completely obselete, thus making their own article void, because why are they writing about a day which, according to them, makes no difference?) to the beginning of 7 years of tribulation. Some say that the devil's number isn't 666 at all, and that it is merely a misinterpretation of a reference to the "Evil Emperor Nero" and that in other publications it appears as 616. Others have worked out "bible coding" which allows them to convert the names of famous leaders in history, including past presidents and popes, into 666.
In any case, I don't really understand it. So instead I'll go off on an extremely different direction and ask a question that's been on my mind for a while:
So, do you think the person with the mobile number: 0445683968 knows that it spells "04 I love you"?
But back to the point of the numerical significance of today. It being the "Devil's Day" and all, it seems surprisingly devoid of horses, let alone dark hooded skeletal figures (which is oddly very Lord of the Rings...) bathed in fire appearing in a line accross the sky...not that I'm complaining. I tried to find out what's supposed to actually be happening today, and sources vastly differ, from the Apocalypse, revelation of the antichrist (one source believes theres one in every generation which makes today completely obselete, thus making their own article void, because why are they writing about a day which, according to them, makes no difference?) to the beginning of 7 years of tribulation. Some say that the devil's number isn't 666 at all, and that it is merely a misinterpretation of a reference to the "Evil Emperor Nero" and that in other publications it appears as 616. Others have worked out "bible coding" which allows them to convert the names of famous leaders in history, including past presidents and popes, into 666.
In any case, I don't really understand it. So instead I'll go off on an extremely different direction and ask a question that's been on my mind for a while:
So, do you think the person with the mobile number: 0445683968 knows that it spells "04 I love you"?
Saturday, June 03, 2006
"Fud wi Colb's"
It’s a lot of “fud” when “soft and gentle” tissues become equivalent to “Super Strength Sandpaper,” butter menthols are consumed by the square metre, your stomach muscles are strengthened by random bouts of coughing (which, oddly enough, seem to always happen the second after you’ve said “I’m Fine.”) and you wake up saying “There was a bird in my room…I opened the window and it wouldn’t leave until the Pedal Prix Parents were at the front door!” (…as you do?!?)
Colds: an exercise in modern pointlessness. They wouldn’t be nearly as irritating as they are if they served some kind of useful function in society. Maybe if they strengthened your immune system? But no, there are HUNDREDS of cold varieties, so the only thing you become immune to is the particular cold that has sunk its tissued claws into you this time.
They begin innocently enough. A slight twinge at the back of your throat, small enough to give you the impression that a sip of water will soon sort that out. However, slowly it begins to grow, until you find yourself grimacing as you talk. Soon you find yourself quite unable to say “rhodedendrums” without different parts of your face moving to create fascinating images of “embarrassing-grimace-pain.”
Next comes the nose problems. Having come home and consumed about a swimming pool’s worth of liquid, you find that you need to blow your nose. Here’s where things start to get strange. You blow your nose once; and you start to feel worse!!! It’s as though the more you blow, the more clogged your nose, until you find yourself seriously contemplating the “She’s The Man” solution… (just for the record, I didn’t. )
By that time you’ re feeling and looking utterly decrepit (or at least like Rudolph the red nosed koala) and you’ve coughed so much, you’re actually bored of the sound, like a really crappy song you’ve heard over and over again. (mostly because its all one pitch, except for occasional double layers of bass…)
But in the end, what can you do to make yourself feel better? (and this time the answer’s not “Soap Rant!”. Let me explain with an example:
From a Monty Python Sketch:
[A Man holding a bird cage walks into a pet shop, where another man is ducking behind the counter looking for something:]
Man with Cage: “Excuse me! Miss? Miss!”
[man continues looking behind counter]
Man with Cage: “Miss? MISS!”
[owner pops up]
Owner: “What do you mean ‘Miss’?”
[Man with cage looks at him for a moment]
Man with Cage: [pause] “Oh I’m sorry, I have a cold.”
Say and do random things! Then BLAME THE COLD!!! (maybe that doesn’t make sense…oh well, I have a cold :P )
Colds: an exercise in modern pointlessness. They wouldn’t be nearly as irritating as they are if they served some kind of useful function in society. Maybe if they strengthened your immune system? But no, there are HUNDREDS of cold varieties, so the only thing you become immune to is the particular cold that has sunk its tissued claws into you this time.
They begin innocently enough. A slight twinge at the back of your throat, small enough to give you the impression that a sip of water will soon sort that out. However, slowly it begins to grow, until you find yourself grimacing as you talk. Soon you find yourself quite unable to say “rhodedendrums” without different parts of your face moving to create fascinating images of “embarrassing-grimace-pain.”
Next comes the nose problems. Having come home and consumed about a swimming pool’s worth of liquid, you find that you need to blow your nose. Here’s where things start to get strange. You blow your nose once; and you start to feel worse!!! It’s as though the more you blow, the more clogged your nose, until you find yourself seriously contemplating the “She’s The Man” solution… (just for the record, I didn’t. )
By that time you’ re feeling and looking utterly decrepit (or at least like Rudolph the red nosed koala) and you’ve coughed so much, you’re actually bored of the sound, like a really crappy song you’ve heard over and over again. (mostly because its all one pitch, except for occasional double layers of bass…)
But in the end, what can you do to make yourself feel better? (and this time the answer’s not “Soap Rant!”. Let me explain with an example:
From a Monty Python Sketch:
[A Man holding a bird cage walks into a pet shop, where another man is ducking behind the counter looking for something:]
Man with Cage: “Excuse me! Miss? Miss!”
[man continues looking behind counter]
Man with Cage: “Miss? MISS!”
[owner pops up]
Owner: “What do you mean ‘Miss’?”
[Man with cage looks at him for a moment]
Man with Cage: [pause] “Oh I’m sorry, I have a cold.”
Say and do random things! Then BLAME THE COLD!!! (maybe that doesn’t make sense…oh well, I have a cold :P )
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