My revision timetable has been drawn up, and in accordance with an inherent need to narrate my life, complete with voice over and background music, I am now listening to “Under Pressure” (The original David Bowie and Queen version as The Computer has decided it will not cooperate with The Used and My Chemical Romance’s efforts…ah well). It’s just like living in a movie. Speaking of which, I could really do with one of those exam montages…where they have shots of the protagonist sitting at his/her desk, staring avidly down at their books, heartily scribbling away in a notebook, as the camera moves along and fades, and POW! They’re wearing different clothes because *shock* it’s a different day! It would certainly speed things up.
Anyways, on another kind of related note, tomorrow we embark upon what is our last week of actual schooling goodness, before plunging into SWOT Vac and then…that time after SWOT Vac. However, what better way to distract oneself than by having a good, old fashioned attack of massive pedantic-ness, which, on close inspection probably makes no logical sense, and is in fact, not relevant to anything ever.
Nonetheless…how would you define being in a particular year level? Does Year 12 begin on the first of January, and end on the 31st of December? Or, is it linked with the school terms, beginning when term one does? This being the case, when you are on holidays are you still in Year 12, as you are not physically at school, being in the generally accepted “Year 12 environment”? Probably, as you’re still doing work in that time. But then, we have to define work. Is it when you’re learning new stuff? Because then if so, does Year 12 end Friday next week, thus making “Year 12 Exams” actually “Random-In-Limbo-People Exams” as we will only be going over old stuff from that point onwards? Hmm…I’m rambled out.
Unable to think of an appropriate segue, I’ll just say it: randomly one night in the holidays there was a whole lot of shouting, revving and general loudness coming from outside. Upon peering out the windows, it was revealed that, having spent some quality yelling time at the building diagonally opposite from us, a man on a motorbike had taken it upon himself to pull along to the one side of the roundabout, put on his breaks, and simultaneously accelerate, the result of which being a massive cloud of whathadtobetoxic cloudness…what the?
So…to totally further confuse proceedings, my background music is now “Mr Blue Sky” by ELO…you just have to love songs that start with a brief weather report (that’s with the exception of “It’s Raining Men”, which leaves…just “Mr Blue Sky”)
Good luck everyone!
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Shopping
Individuality hinges upon expressing yourself through means different to those of everyone else. However, it is impossible to do so entirely exclusively, as we all have to have some things in common with others, therefore, maybe individuality is merely a person’s unique combination of the people, things and influences in their surrounding environment....which is what makes shopping centres so fascinating. Stocked with identical item after identical item, so many people go to them, and then come away with random assortments of stuff. Yesterday was one such experience, in the almost futile quest for summer clothes (which I'll totally get to wear so much before exams...) Each shop has it's own image, or "fashion sense", which can have mixed results for different people. One store in particular seemed to have gone crazy with the "bubble" look. Bubble dresses do work sometimes, but it takes a very particular kind of body type to pull off the bubble top - otherwise it makes thin people look thicker, and everyone else look elaphantine (a word I discovered while trying to bulk out my Year 4 "Personal Spelling List"...)
Tops are getting longer and longer, so that they would be indistinguishable from dresses, but for the fact that that...nope, drawing a blank. That's not all for tops now though, becuase it seems that alongside the stripe invasion (which is actually kindof cool) comes STAR ATTACK! Not suggesting that it's bad or detrimental in anyway (yes, detrimental. As in it melts your skin or something if you choose to wear stars...) just interesting. Personally, I'm holding out for the day that everyone's wearing Dr Who tops...
The shopping experience itself is wildly varied for different people, or even for yourself depending on your age. Usually over life, shopping goes from: Interesting, frustrating, fun, boooooring, fun, terrifying, ESSENTIAL, boring, fun, shmeh...or something like that. Have to admit though, it's good that now I'm a bit older, to be able to walk past or *whispered* into the bra section of a shop and fight the residual 11-year-old-inner-self's overwhelming urge to flee.
Anyways, the random drawing at the top was a procrastination device where I was trying to sum up (in a somewhat weird way) what all the study this year feels like to me...sortof.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Boiled Toast
Today I am absent minded. What is it about holidays and the sudden freedom from sporadic lack of bells and random mysterious common room smells that has the ability to turn one’s brain into mush?
I’ve said before (though in a rather vague and waffly way) that life is stranger than anything they could possibly get away with in a film. It’s odd to think that we’d have the need to suspend disbelief at all ever. Considering the stuff that we encounter in our day to day lives that sometimes are just so out there, fairies, 4-foot high “One Ring” wielders and scientifically-named-dogs-travelling-through-time-and-space-in-a-specially-adapted-Delorian seem fairly mild. (No exaggeration whatsoever… )
So what does this mean exactly? That the world actually is as it’s portrayed in the Matrix, that we’re all plugged into vats with computer programs beaming “real life” directly into our minds? Maybe there’s a tear in the fabric of reality that’s letting the absurd slowly trickle through? Or maybe it means that the combination of Year 12 and Holidays has brought out the extremely rare and unusual condition: Reverse Sleep Deprivation.
That’s right. After month after month of having less than the minimum amount of sleep required to keep an adequate grip on reality and sanity, the holidays have come about, and all of a sudden: 11 Hours! A Night! The problem (ooh, they’re playing “Rock the Casbah” on the radio now…you all really needed to know that) now is, we’d already adapted…maybe even evolved to be able to cope, and now it’s “being thrown for a loop” time.
Now it looks like I’ve broken into two, separate and yet equally confusing threads (wow, that sounded a bit Law and Order-y): “Life is weird” and “Help! I’m un-sleep deprived!” but they are linked somewhat. The symptoms of RSD (strangely similar to regular SD actually) include absent-mindedness, such as (in a totally general sense of course) going to the fridge to get eggs to boil, and coming away with a loaf of bread instead, random blurting…that’s my excuse anyway…and the tendency to accept strange occurrences as normality…such as the filming of Bollywood movies in the middle of Rundle Mall – which is what links the threads! (Though somewhat weakly and dubiously I’ll admit)
Anyways, again I’m getting (just wrote “gitting”…what an interesting concept. “To become increasingly more git-like”) convoluted (and also just had a brief typing interlude to answer the door buzzer, whereupon I dropped the receiver with loud, reverberating clunking noises and had to go downstairs in my HOT Phantom of the Opera t-shirt to collect a package for Mum) so I’ll stop and get back the homework...
I’ve said before (though in a rather vague and waffly way) that life is stranger than anything they could possibly get away with in a film. It’s odd to think that we’d have the need to suspend disbelief at all ever. Considering the stuff that we encounter in our day to day lives that sometimes are just so out there, fairies, 4-foot high “One Ring” wielders and scientifically-named-dogs-travelling-through-time-and-space-in-a-specially-adapted-Delorian seem fairly mild. (No exaggeration whatsoever… )
So what does this mean exactly? That the world actually is as it’s portrayed in the Matrix, that we’re all plugged into vats with computer programs beaming “real life” directly into our minds? Maybe there’s a tear in the fabric of reality that’s letting the absurd slowly trickle through? Or maybe it means that the combination of Year 12 and Holidays has brought out the extremely rare and unusual condition: Reverse Sleep Deprivation.
That’s right. After month after month of having less than the minimum amount of sleep required to keep an adequate grip on reality and sanity, the holidays have come about, and all of a sudden: 11 Hours! A Night! The problem (ooh, they’re playing “Rock the Casbah” on the radio now…you all really needed to know that) now is, we’d already adapted…maybe even evolved to be able to cope, and now it’s “being thrown for a loop” time.
Now it looks like I’ve broken into two, separate and yet equally confusing threads (wow, that sounded a bit Law and Order-y): “Life is weird” and “Help! I’m un-sleep deprived!” but they are linked somewhat. The symptoms of RSD (strangely similar to regular SD actually) include absent-mindedness, such as (in a totally general sense of course) going to the fridge to get eggs to boil, and coming away with a loaf of bread instead, random blurting…that’s my excuse anyway…and the tendency to accept strange occurrences as normality…such as the filming of Bollywood movies in the middle of Rundle Mall – which is what links the threads! (Though somewhat weakly and dubiously I’ll admit)
Anyways, again I’m getting (just wrote “gitting”…what an interesting concept. “To become increasingly more git-like”) convoluted (and also just had a brief typing interlude to answer the door buzzer, whereupon I dropped the receiver with loud, reverberating clunking noises and had to go downstairs in my HOT Phantom of the Opera t-shirt to collect a package for Mum) so I’ll stop and get back the homework...
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Alphabetical Excerpt
It’s the holidays. That’s right, we have now officially embarked upon 14 fun-filled days of “holi” in which we can work, “work”, eat noodles for brunch and watch Casper.
After a dubious trip into the city where the following was overheard “quick! The cops are coming! Let’s split up!” whereupon the group continued walking together, normal except for their panicked voices (?!?)…I have nothing to follow that up with.
Anyways, this is just a brief post to say: a) Watch Casper – it is actually so good b) YAY!!! c) The song in the Jericho ad is called “Light Surrounding You” …maybe should have just read the thing at the bottom of the screen…and finally: Happy Birthday Richard!
After a dubious trip into the city where the following was overheard “quick! The cops are coming! Let’s split up!” whereupon the group continued walking together, normal except for their panicked voices (?!?)…I have nothing to follow that up with.
Anyways, this is just a brief post to say: a) Watch Casper – it is actually so good b) YAY!!! c) The song in the Jericho ad is called “Light Surrounding You” …maybe should have just read the thing at the bottom of the screen…and finally: Happy Birthday Richard!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
X-Men vs. Harry Potter
It’s the ultimate week in the penultimate term of the ultimate year. Ultimate. Therefore, logically it is a time to ponder the meaning of all things, of matter, and of how all things are linked…especially Harry Potter and X-Men.
WARNING! Don’t read on if you have yet to read the Harry Potter books, and don’t want any surprises, i.e. the castle exploding and everyone turning into pineapples, to be spoilt.
First of all they are both set in exclusive schools for a minority group of people (of the non-muggle persuasion) who live there in secrecy and seclusion. The teachers of both schools belong to a special crime-fighting group; The X-Men and The Order of the Phoenix. Both schools are overseen by an Omnipotent-esque being – Xavier and Dumbledore. In the third X-Men Xavier dies, and Dumbledore supposedly dies in the sixth Harry Potter. 2 times 3 is six. Where does the 2 come from? Well, Dumbledore has a beard and Xavier doesn’t and so obviously that accounts for the doubledness (this is my logic in some maths tests…it seems to work)
By the way, in this comparison, Cyclops does not equal Sirius, even though they both have ambiguous deaths…mostly because Cyclops is massively annoying.
Also, I haven’t managed to slot Buckbeak in here anywhere yet…he can’t equal Beast.
Anyways, final comparison: Dumbledore’s pet is a Phoenix. Xavier’s favourite student is Jean Grey, who, when she becomes evil adopts the name….wait for it….Phoenix! *cough*
Now…randomly early sleep!
WARNING! Don’t read on if you have yet to read the Harry Potter books, and don’t want any surprises, i.e. the castle exploding and everyone turning into pineapples, to be spoilt.
First of all they are both set in exclusive schools for a minority group of people (of the non-muggle persuasion) who live there in secrecy and seclusion. The teachers of both schools belong to a special crime-fighting group; The X-Men and The Order of the Phoenix. Both schools are overseen by an Omnipotent-esque being – Xavier and Dumbledore. In the third X-Men Xavier dies, and Dumbledore supposedly dies in the sixth Harry Potter. 2 times 3 is six. Where does the 2 come from? Well, Dumbledore has a beard and Xavier doesn’t and so obviously that accounts for the doubledness (this is my logic in some maths tests…it seems to work)
By the way, in this comparison, Cyclops does not equal Sirius, even though they both have ambiguous deaths…mostly because Cyclops is massively annoying.
Also, I haven’t managed to slot Buckbeak in here anywhere yet…he can’t equal Beast.
Anyways, final comparison: Dumbledore’s pet is a Phoenix. Xavier’s favourite student is Jean Grey, who, when she becomes evil adopts the name….wait for it….Phoenix! *cough*
Now…randomly early sleep!
Monday, September 18, 2006
On Trial(s and Tri/(ju)bulation[s])
Dust streamed between the keys, desperate to escape from the harsh sunlight now invading their long peaceful and dark haven. Years of refuge and safety, free from the unpredictable whims of long dead musicians, hands, one moment gently gliding across the surface, barely even touching, the next; harsh, angry – pounding away at the command of a little “f”. Piano? Forte? They could never make up their minds. But it was a life long left behind, keys left in peace, in silence. Exploited no more…until now.
Right, that counts as ‘practicing’ for Thursdays English narrative – and thus this most definitely (Oh no! Had to correct that because I spelt it wrong again!) is not procrastination. I am however going to have tea in a minute, which most certainly is. I also managed to watch ‘Saved’ on Saturday too…ah well. Not a big deal, it only leads to a few personality disorders.
That’s what happens in trial exam week I guess. The above italicised ramble was somewhat inspired by yesterday’s attempted try for relaxation. Yes, piano-for-the-first-time-in-about-five-months was an extremely good plan to boost self esteem and study motivation. Piece after piece would end the same way: starting alright, the mind would think “I still got this!” followed by “Well that was terrible grammar and sentence structure,” which preceded “It’s not like you said it out loud or anything”, which came before “Yeah, but that’s not the point” then “I need to go to the book store…is it time for me to start reading autobiographies of politicians rather than the latest Charlie Bone book?”…by which stage the first half of the song, having gotten progressively worse over the past minute, would taper off to a point, whereupon a new song would be selected and the ordeal would begin once more.
Maybe going for a walk would be a better option.
If walking was implemented as a warrior on the front lines of STRESS WARS! (Time out for scrolling, long winded text about stressful political situations in galaxy’s far, far away) you’d probably need to have a shower, or at least a good scrub first, due to the strange phenomena where ink from highlighters, ballpoints an biros come together as one and teleport out of their respective tubes, and conveniently relocate themselves all over your hands and arms!!! This is particularly handy (no pun intended) when making notes, because then you can then proceed to make helpful colourful smudges all over the place.
Anyways, I have to get back to the rapturous joy that is: Physicstudy! (it’s time that it became one word)
Right, that counts as ‘practicing’ for Thursdays English narrative – and thus this most definitely (Oh no! Had to correct that because I spelt it wrong again!) is not procrastination. I am however going to have tea in a minute, which most certainly is. I also managed to watch ‘Saved’ on Saturday too…ah well. Not a big deal, it only leads to a few personality disorders.
That’s what happens in trial exam week I guess. The above italicised ramble was somewhat inspired by yesterday’s attempted try for relaxation. Yes, piano-for-the-first-time-in-about-five-months was an extremely good plan to boost self esteem and study motivation. Piece after piece would end the same way: starting alright, the mind would think “I still got this!” followed by “Well that was terrible grammar and sentence structure,” which preceded “It’s not like you said it out loud or anything”, which came before “Yeah, but that’s not the point” then “I need to go to the book store…is it time for me to start reading autobiographies of politicians rather than the latest Charlie Bone book?”…by which stage the first half of the song, having gotten progressively worse over the past minute, would taper off to a point, whereupon a new song would be selected and the ordeal would begin once more.
Maybe going for a walk would be a better option.
If walking was implemented as a warrior on the front lines of STRESS WARS! (Time out for scrolling, long winded text about stressful political situations in galaxy’s far, far away) you’d probably need to have a shower, or at least a good scrub first, due to the strange phenomena where ink from highlighters, ballpoints an biros come together as one and teleport out of their respective tubes, and conveniently relocate themselves all over your hands and arms!!! This is particularly handy (no pun intended) when making notes, because then you can then proceed to make helpful colourful smudges all over the place.
Anyways, I have to get back to the rapturous joy that is: Physicstudy! (it’s time that it became one word)
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Pretty In Pink
Wow, the past 24 hours were possibly almost better than when your playlist is on random, and yet the next chronological song comes on anyway!!! (Note: that’s a good thing…it somehow appeals to the inherent rebellious “defying authority and laws of randonymity” gene…or some nerd mutation of it)
To begin with, The Hypothetical Little Man (THLM) who spent the period of time from Monday night to late Tuesday afternoon sitting in my mind and prodding my eye from behind incessantly seems to have moved on to bigger and better things (I shudder to think what exactly) THLM only seems to make his presence known when I’m databaseing, and now that the assignment has been handed up, *que inspirational bagpipe music* fingers crossed that he’s gone for good.
After a personal best (yes, it adds up; I counted :p) and a mildly disturbing episode of Home and Away (why Drew, why???) I managed to get adequate sleep! (almost as difficult to achieve as spotting stripy penguin monsters) ((That reminds me: ‘Doctor! Doctor! I keep seeing purple monsters with orange spots!’ ‘Have you seen a Psychiatrist?’ ‘No…just purple monsters with orange spots.’)
On waking up, it turned out to be Wednesday; TV GUIDE DAY!!! Yay-not-having-to-watch-every-episode-of-Neighbours-to-know-what’s-happening! However, I didn’t have a chance to read it in between diving from bed to uniform to bag to kitchen to lift-shaft to bus…but there was no last minute necessary homework do-edness, so constructive time was passed looking out the window and listening to miscellaneous music.
Turns out it was a 50% day – 3 less lessons lessens the stress. Quality ‘sitting on couch’ plans were cleverly thwarted by the video guy, who was holding interviews in the common room, which was entertaining, and resulted in the rest of the day being chock a block full (weird phrase – chocolate blocks are no more full than other things…in fact possibly less so, with all the air cracks between the individual pieces that still take up a significant amount of packaging space) of ‘oh, it’s like that time when…’ which is always fun, and usually ends up with everyone collapsing in laughter about things such as ‘evil heartburn-inducing fruitboxes’. (Sorry!)
Having been ‘de-linked’ from the year 9s, (and I was going to show them how to fold flappy birds and everything…) fun times of wacky extreme SATAC-ing ensued, before a riveting bus trip [neutral-non-chocolate-related] full of sleeping, unfocussed gazing and explaining the ever-fascinating concept of ‘n’, the variable that isn’t x.
…and to top it off: Fish and Chips for dinner!
To begin with, The Hypothetical Little Man (THLM) who spent the period of time from Monday night to late Tuesday afternoon sitting in my mind and prodding my eye from behind incessantly seems to have moved on to bigger and better things (I shudder to think what exactly) THLM only seems to make his presence known when I’m databaseing, and now that the assignment has been handed up, *que inspirational bagpipe music* fingers crossed that he’s gone for good.
After a personal best (yes, it adds up; I counted :p) and a mildly disturbing episode of Home and Away (why Drew, why???) I managed to get adequate sleep! (almost as difficult to achieve as spotting stripy penguin monsters) ((That reminds me: ‘Doctor! Doctor! I keep seeing purple monsters with orange spots!’ ‘Have you seen a Psychiatrist?’ ‘No…just purple monsters with orange spots.’)
On waking up, it turned out to be Wednesday; TV GUIDE DAY!!! Yay-not-having-to-watch-every-episode-of-Neighbours-to-know-what’s-happening! However, I didn’t have a chance to read it in between diving from bed to uniform to bag to kitchen to lift-shaft to bus…but there was no last minute necessary homework do-edness, so constructive time was passed looking out the window and listening to miscellaneous music.
Turns out it was a 50% day – 3 less lessons lessens the stress. Quality ‘sitting on couch’ plans were cleverly thwarted by the video guy, who was holding interviews in the common room, which was entertaining, and resulted in the rest of the day being chock a block full (weird phrase – chocolate blocks are no more full than other things…in fact possibly less so, with all the air cracks between the individual pieces that still take up a significant amount of packaging space) of ‘oh, it’s like that time when…’ which is always fun, and usually ends up with everyone collapsing in laughter about things such as ‘evil heartburn-inducing fruitboxes’. (Sorry!)
Having been ‘de-linked’ from the year 9s, (and I was going to show them how to fold flappy birds and everything…) fun times of wacky extreme SATAC-ing ensued, before a riveting bus trip [neutral-non-chocolate-related] full of sleeping, unfocussed gazing and explaining the ever-fascinating concept of ‘n’, the variable that isn’t x.
…and to top it off: Fish and Chips for dinner!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Stationary Pinboards Gather Much Moss
Today being Thursday, and year 12 being a year of “looking to the future” (I don’t think I’m actually quoting anyone there), logic follows that today I should talk about yesterday…what a seriously exciting sentence.
Wednesday began in a mildly disturbing way – by eagerly leaping out of bed in the normal manner (…) only to find myself confronted Ron Moss gazing all Bold-and-Annoyingly (yes, what a mature phrase) out at me from my very own pinboard…it’s an invasion, I tell you. Removing the picture serves no purpose, because on returning from school, he had seemingly cloned himself, and I had double the sulky sultry Moss-men peering down from the wall … when will the madness end?!?
In between watching my pinboard becoming slowly covered in Moss, came attending that “Wackily Wonderful School-Like School” place where we all go. However, on this particular Wednesday, Attending the WWSLS place meant not attending…at least for two of the six lessons…
Dressed in an awesome mishmash of hybrid PE and ‘Normal’ clothes, it was time to yet again embark upon “that time of the fortnight,” in which an entire 100 minutes is spent contemplating the true meaning of life, pondering about the passive aggressive nature of motorists, and enjoying the fascinating and exciting view…of my hands. Thrilling. (for an extra fun detail, my left hand had the word “Letter” written on it…made for suspenseful reading).
Yay bike riding.
However, on the plus side, I am now three for three in the toppling-off-my-bike count. The weird thing is how it only seems to be when I’m in a big group of my peers that my severe unco-ness decides to rear it’s extremely, non-embarassed head…pulling over to the curb should be so easy…so why was it twenty centimetres further away than expected?
Ah well, at least it was raining :)
Wednesday began in a mildly disturbing way – by eagerly leaping out of bed in the normal manner (…) only to find myself confronted Ron Moss gazing all Bold-and-Annoyingly (yes, what a mature phrase) out at me from my very own pinboard…it’s an invasion, I tell you. Removing the picture serves no purpose, because on returning from school, he had seemingly cloned himself, and I had double the sulky sultry Moss-men peering down from the wall … when will the madness end?!?
In between watching my pinboard becoming slowly covered in Moss, came attending that “Wackily Wonderful School-Like School” place where we all go. However, on this particular Wednesday, Attending the WWSLS place meant not attending…at least for two of the six lessons…
Dressed in an awesome mishmash of hybrid PE and ‘Normal’ clothes, it was time to yet again embark upon “that time of the fortnight,” in which an entire 100 minutes is spent contemplating the true meaning of life, pondering about the passive aggressive nature of motorists, and enjoying the fascinating and exciting view…of my hands. Thrilling. (for an extra fun detail, my left hand had the word “Letter” written on it…made for suspenseful reading).
Yay bike riding.
However, on the plus side, I am now three for three in the toppling-off-my-bike count. The weird thing is how it only seems to be when I’m in a big group of my peers that my severe unco-ness decides to rear it’s extremely, non-embarassed head…pulling over to the curb should be so easy…so why was it twenty centimetres further away than expected?
Ah well, at least it was raining :)
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Flags!
If my maths exercise book had any more flags in it, it would probably be eligible for the “Super Patriot of the Year” award. However, that aside, I’d just like to ask, is “for a full on day of full on fun” a phrase from an old ad for magic mountain, Puzzle Park or Greenhills? It’s something that’s been driving me insane for the last five minutes.
Anyways, after establishing very clearly that we should all move to California (California!) for Just Another Day in Paradise where Everybody Hurts, so Save Me! because I’m a Terrible Person, and should Stop! right now, and be Forever Young, before becoming a Prisoner of Society, but I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing, so When the Sun Goes Down I’ll find A Horse With No Name and travel under the Moonlight Shadow and search for The Holy Grail. Nah, that’ll never happen…because I’m no Superman :P
…hmm, got a bit carried away there. To rephrase that ramble: I’ve been listening to music. It really does help with the homework. Anyways, it’s been an interesting weekend. (and by weekend I mean the period of time beginning the second you leave the school grounds)
Starting by witnessing Hugh Jackman sing, dance, prance, and have his butt grabbed by random women, you would think that Saturday would be a bit of an anticlimax, but alas, no! Awaking bright an early at the chipper, morning person’s time of 11:43a.m, I thought it was going to be a quiet, slow paced day of homework and SATACing…that was before stumbling downstairs and finding myself amidst a raging, intense battle or epic proportions: Pluto; Planet or Dwarf – who has the right to decide?
15 minutes of “Read this Article!” “It’s purely from a human perspective!” “What about Pluto?” “Who’s to say it’s a rock?” “Who’s to say it isn’t?” “Pluto’s a dog!” later, we agreed to disagree (wow, I really don’t like the cliché-edness of that phrase) and the tension subsided, and then the homework and SATACing began.
The rest of Saturday was a riot of…[10 paragraphs omitted here. In summary: homework, msn, phone, eating, phone, Mighty Ducks! msn, sleep…] Also: thank you commas! Because otherwise I’d have been msning a phone which I later ate while watching Mighty Ducks….riiiight.
Sunday however, is the most exciting day of all. Not just because I watched Dr Who, ate pancakes, and did homework…I got new conditioner! Yay! Crisis averted! Door is closing! Woohoo!
…anyways, this is starting to turn into a fully fledged ramble of incoherent babble, so I’m going to stop now….no….now.
Anyways, after establishing very clearly that we should all move to California (California!) for Just Another Day in Paradise where Everybody Hurts, so Save Me! because I’m a Terrible Person, and should Stop! right now, and be Forever Young, before becoming a Prisoner of Society, but I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing, so When the Sun Goes Down I’ll find A Horse With No Name and travel under the Moonlight Shadow and search for The Holy Grail. Nah, that’ll never happen…because I’m no Superman :P
…hmm, got a bit carried away there. To rephrase that ramble: I’ve been listening to music. It really does help with the homework. Anyways, it’s been an interesting weekend. (and by weekend I mean the period of time beginning the second you leave the school grounds)
Starting by witnessing Hugh Jackman sing, dance, prance, and have his butt grabbed by random women, you would think that Saturday would be a bit of an anticlimax, but alas, no! Awaking bright an early at the chipper, morning person’s time of 11:43a.m, I thought it was going to be a quiet, slow paced day of homework and SATACing…that was before stumbling downstairs and finding myself amidst a raging, intense battle or epic proportions: Pluto; Planet or Dwarf – who has the right to decide?
15 minutes of “Read this Article!” “It’s purely from a human perspective!” “What about Pluto?” “Who’s to say it’s a rock?” “Who’s to say it isn’t?” “Pluto’s a dog!” later, we agreed to disagree (wow, I really don’t like the cliché-edness of that phrase) and the tension subsided, and then the homework and SATACing began.
The rest of Saturday was a riot of…[10 paragraphs omitted here. In summary: homework, msn, phone, eating, phone, Mighty Ducks! msn, sleep…] Also: thank you commas! Because otherwise I’d have been msning a phone which I later ate while watching Mighty Ducks….riiiight.
Sunday however, is the most exciting day of all. Not just because I watched Dr Who, ate pancakes, and did homework…I got new conditioner! Yay! Crisis averted! Door is closing! Woohoo!
…anyways, this is starting to turn into a fully fledged ramble of incoherent babble, so I’m going to stop now….no….now.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Miscellaneous
It’s been a tough week, but for the fact that it’s only Monday, and nothing really tough has happened. Yes, the day has come. I have reached a blogging drought, and have nothing really to talk about…but that doesn’t stop me in my day-to-day life (as opposed to my week-by-week, year-by-year, nanosecond-by-nanosecond lives…) so why should here be any different? Which is why I’m going to forego the normal, long-winded-yet-highly-thrilling anecdote fest, and just go for a totally miscellaneous- yet-highly-thrilling anecdote fest of whatever comes to mind.
AGGGH! To Wednesday, a day of two tests menacingly circling around a double lesson of bike riding. It’s not so much the riding that poses a threat, so much as the sharp turning while going downhill, resulting in an unexpected-meeting-without-a-prior-appointment between me, the bike, and the unnecessarily solid ground…
Also, are Meredith and Derek ever going to get back together? (just typed Meredith and Addison…great.) Wow, if suspense could kill…except it can’t, because that would be personifying a (how do you describe suspense? Is it a feeling? Apprehension is a feeling…isn’t it? Well, suspense is a feeling now…could have said feeling a couple more times in that little ramble) feeling, which of course is impossible…for now.
Speaking of concerns, omg SATAC!!! It could be more confusing, but for that to happen, it would need to be in a different language. That, or the guide would need to be written on rye bread. Mmm…ensuing confusion to engulf the current confusion…
On a different note, I don’t think my conditioner’s going to last until we next go to the supermarket! Oh no! Not superficial in the least! But, as a wise person once told me that another wise person told her, “Shampoo opens the door, and conditioner closes it.”
Another question; is anyone else slightly out of kilter because of how the sixth Harry Potter book is thinner than the fifth, and thus breaks the getting ever thicker pattern that’s lasted five volumes? It’s fun to be pedantic :)
Anyways, off to dinner now.
AGGGH! To Wednesday, a day of two tests menacingly circling around a double lesson of bike riding. It’s not so much the riding that poses a threat, so much as the sharp turning while going downhill, resulting in an unexpected-meeting-without-a-prior-appointment between me, the bike, and the unnecessarily solid ground…
Also, are Meredith and Derek ever going to get back together? (just typed Meredith and Addison…great.) Wow, if suspense could kill…except it can’t, because that would be personifying a (how do you describe suspense? Is it a feeling? Apprehension is a feeling…isn’t it? Well, suspense is a feeling now…could have said feeling a couple more times in that little ramble) feeling, which of course is impossible…for now.
Speaking of concerns, omg SATAC!!! It could be more confusing, but for that to happen, it would need to be in a different language. That, or the guide would need to be written on rye bread. Mmm…ensuing confusion to engulf the current confusion…
On a different note, I don’t think my conditioner’s going to last until we next go to the supermarket! Oh no! Not superficial in the least! But, as a wise person once told me that another wise person told her, “Shampoo opens the door, and conditioner closes it.”
Another question; is anyone else slightly out of kilter because of how the sixth Harry Potter book is thinner than the fifth, and thus breaks the getting ever thicker pattern that’s lasted five volumes? It’s fun to be pedantic :)
Anyways, off to dinner now.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Scott Joplin + Tram Walk = ...Super Mario?
Having just brushed my teeth within the Protection of Tooth Enamel Safety Restrictions timeline, I’d like to take a moment to make an observation about which I’m absolutely certain many others before me have pondered in depth.
Making the long, arduous journey either from my house to the tram, or from the tram to my house is always fun filled and riveting. Whether it be non-ticket-having “drunkenly-stoned shouty guy”, or random people who sit next to you even when every other seat is empty, then insist upon using your phone, there’s always something interesting going on that you have to struggle to hear while simultaneously maintaining the façade of indifference and nonchalance.
However, tonight the usually phenomenal excitement that is: “The Tram Journey” was dwarfed, by the new and improved: “Walk From Tram to Building.”
Now, you wouldn’t think that too much could happen in less than 5 minutes, but from the second the tram was vacated, the fun began. With n-pod in one ear the epic 150 metre, Lord of the Rings-esque journey began, by me nearly taking out “running man with takeaway”. It was once again a case of the “move-out-of-the-way-only-to-find-they-have-done-likewise” phenomenon, which I wrote about last year. After what felt like about five years of trying to get out of his way, we finally broke free and progressed onto where each of us was actually trying to go.
Moving onto the Colley Reserve path, “having issues with parking meter” man and either “joking or hurling abuse while in cars” people were passed. Suddenly, the hardcore plinkings of Scott Joplin came on, and everything changed.
…well not really. I just wanted to sound dramatic. Nonetheless, it did inspire the random feeling of being in a game of Super Mario. Seriously try it sometime. With the background music there, it would not have come as a huge shock to see frightening evil spotted mushrooms heading in my general direction, with the only way to save myself being to jump either on them, causing them to go “fleep!!!” and dissolve into nothingness, or jump over them and continue moving on in safety.
Skirting around trees, hedges and assorted bottles and litter, without being attacked by mushrooms or mutant bug things, the remainder of the journey was relatively uneventful. Nearing home, “walking normally and not doing anything interesting or unusual to comment on” man and the familiar pillar of smart cars came into sight, and there the fascinating wonderfulness of being Mario ended…
Making the long, arduous journey either from my house to the tram, or from the tram to my house is always fun filled and riveting. Whether it be non-ticket-having “drunkenly-stoned shouty guy”, or random people who sit next to you even when every other seat is empty, then insist upon using your phone, there’s always something interesting going on that you have to struggle to hear while simultaneously maintaining the façade of indifference and nonchalance.
However, tonight the usually phenomenal excitement that is: “The Tram Journey” was dwarfed, by the new and improved: “Walk From Tram to Building.”
Now, you wouldn’t think that too much could happen in less than 5 minutes, but from the second the tram was vacated, the fun began. With n-pod in one ear the epic 150 metre, Lord of the Rings-esque journey began, by me nearly taking out “running man with takeaway”. It was once again a case of the “move-out-of-the-way-only-to-find-they-have-done-likewise” phenomenon, which I wrote about last year. After what felt like about five years of trying to get out of his way, we finally broke free and progressed onto where each of us was actually trying to go.
Moving onto the Colley Reserve path, “having issues with parking meter” man and either “joking or hurling abuse while in cars” people were passed. Suddenly, the hardcore plinkings of Scott Joplin came on, and everything changed.
…well not really. I just wanted to sound dramatic. Nonetheless, it did inspire the random feeling of being in a game of Super Mario. Seriously try it sometime. With the background music there, it would not have come as a huge shock to see frightening evil spotted mushrooms heading in my general direction, with the only way to save myself being to jump either on them, causing them to go “fleep!!!” and dissolve into nothingness, or jump over them and continue moving on in safety.
Skirting around trees, hedges and assorted bottles and litter, without being attacked by mushrooms or mutant bug things, the remainder of the journey was relatively uneventful. Nearing home, “walking normally and not doing anything interesting or unusual to comment on” man and the familiar pillar of smart cars came into sight, and there the fascinating wonderfulness of being Mario ended…
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Spice Up Your Life
We’ve been through ‘The Year Play School Became Un-cool’, Teletubbies – The must have accessory for any self respecting nine year old (wow I really hated that phase), the six months of “omg Leonardo DiCaprio is sooo dreamy, the oh-so-mature-and-witty ‘Pen 15’ and the endless joys of carpets and static electricity. It’s a good thing that the Spice Girls were around, because otherwise we would never have realised that what we really really really wanted was a “zing-a-zing AH!” Been there, done that, bought the bracelet/showbag/VHS tape of ‘Spiceworld – The Movie’. (actually I didn’t get the movie…is it sad that I wish I did?)
The discoveries continued with finding out how totally awesome and fashionable it is to wear matching floral print trousers and tops to a disco (after which many fun hours could be whittled away by shouting in each others ears because “it really isn’t that loud.”) And what better way is there to spend fifty minutes worth of lunchtime than trading stickers/bits of coloured paper/millipedes?
…and I’m sure that by now we ALL know who “Bugsy” is. Or what “I was born on a pirate ship” sounds like when spoken out loud. Ditto spelling out “I Cup.”
But at least by the end of it, we all came out better, well-adjusted people…or so we thought.
Year 11. We were at the top of our game. Serious conversations. Exams. Homework do-edness. Listening to mature, non twelve-year-old-target-audience music. Not falling asleep on the school bus…
So what is it about Year 12 that has a superior dorkifying effect on those going through it?
The year’s trickling away, and with it went the anti-dorkyness barriers that had taken years of quashing and repression to build up. Barely noticeable at first, I didn’t even really start to notice until this week. Maybe I should have twigged when I turned up on day one with Narnia and Spiderman maths exercise books…
After a few weeks of coming home on Friday to watch “H2O – Just add water” a program about teenage mermaids, and responding to arguments with “so’s your face.” (which I might add is totally legitimate…watch Scrubs. JD proves it) it was not until I found myself doing my English application while listening to “Wannabee” that the true extent of what shall now be known as “Twelvenoiditis” finally hit…
Wow I hope it’s not just me.
The discoveries continued with finding out how totally awesome and fashionable it is to wear matching floral print trousers and tops to a disco (after which many fun hours could be whittled away by shouting in each others ears because “it really isn’t that loud.”) And what better way is there to spend fifty minutes worth of lunchtime than trading stickers/bits of coloured paper/millipedes?
…and I’m sure that by now we ALL know who “Bugsy” is. Or what “I was born on a pirate ship” sounds like when spoken out loud. Ditto spelling out “I Cup.”
But at least by the end of it, we all came out better, well-adjusted people…or so we thought.
Year 11. We were at the top of our game. Serious conversations. Exams. Homework do-edness. Listening to mature, non twelve-year-old-target-audience music. Not falling asleep on the school bus…
So what is it about Year 12 that has a superior dorkifying effect on those going through it?
The year’s trickling away, and with it went the anti-dorkyness barriers that had taken years of quashing and repression to build up. Barely noticeable at first, I didn’t even really start to notice until this week. Maybe I should have twigged when I turned up on day one with Narnia and Spiderman maths exercise books…
After a few weeks of coming home on Friday to watch “H2O – Just add water” a program about teenage mermaids, and responding to arguments with “so’s your face.” (which I might add is totally legitimate…watch Scrubs. JD proves it) it was not until I found myself doing my English application while listening to “Wannabee” that the true extent of what shall now be known as “Twelvenoiditis” finally hit…
Wow I hope it’s not just me.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Superman
My computer keeps making freaky whoosh noises, which make me think its either going to implode, or take off back to its home planet.
That aside, I was actually trying to talk about something…which I have now forgotten. Well done concentration span and memory capacity, another tick in the “You Are Fantastic!” column.
Hmm…so, it’s been an awesome weekend. Well, everything except the homework. (wow, that sounded oh-so-very OC what with the starting things with “so”…how irrelevant) which in fact, I should probably be doing…ah well.
Actually, what I wanted to write about was the fascinating, extremely interesting concept that is: the afternoon nap. ( Warning: anecdote ahead) In prep, it was actually a lesson where the whole class would go to their cubby holes, and get out a specially brought from home blanket and pillow, find a place on the floor, carefully spread out, and then nap time would ensue, as exciting fun music would play in the background. It’s here that I’m going to confess that not once in the years that we did this did I actually go to sleep. It wasn’t from lack of trying. In fact, I was extremely jealous of those who could sleep, to the extent that I’d pretend, just to feel like part of the group (ooh, three year old peer pressure) ((also, I accidentally typed “froup”)) (((which could almost lead me to say: “Floop is a MADMAN! Help Us! Save Us!!!” but not quite…))) ((((This many brackets should probably be illegal)))) In the end to quell the monotony of forty minutes of not-sleep, poor old slush (my pig shaped pillow :p) ended up being defluffenated. Alternatively: I’d pass the time by pulling out some of cotton stuffing. Now he’s only half the pig he used to be.
Anyways, skipping forward a few years, the naps ceased, and work (wrote “wok”…it seems to be catching) increased…go rhyming! All of a sudden, you find yourself waking up on the bus, having been rudely awoken by an inconsiderate window making its presence known to the side of your head.
Maybe we’ve all got this round the wrong way. Should it, in fact be, the year 12s with the teddy bear blankets and soothing Old McDonald music?
Probably not. But still, it’d be good.
That aside, I was actually trying to talk about something…which I have now forgotten. Well done concentration span and memory capacity, another tick in the “You Are Fantastic!” column.
Hmm…so, it’s been an awesome weekend. Well, everything except the homework. (wow, that sounded oh-so-very OC what with the starting things with “so”…how irrelevant) which in fact, I should probably be doing…ah well.
Actually, what I wanted to write about was the fascinating, extremely interesting concept that is: the afternoon nap. ( Warning: anecdote ahead) In prep, it was actually a lesson where the whole class would go to their cubby holes, and get out a specially brought from home blanket and pillow, find a place on the floor, carefully spread out, and then nap time would ensue, as exciting fun music would play in the background. It’s here that I’m going to confess that not once in the years that we did this did I actually go to sleep. It wasn’t from lack of trying. In fact, I was extremely jealous of those who could sleep, to the extent that I’d pretend, just to feel like part of the group (ooh, three year old peer pressure) ((also, I accidentally typed “froup”)) (((which could almost lead me to say: “Floop is a MADMAN! Help Us! Save Us!!!” but not quite…))) ((((This many brackets should probably be illegal)))) In the end to quell the monotony of forty minutes of not-sleep, poor old slush (my pig shaped pillow :p) ended up being defluffenated. Alternatively: I’d pass the time by pulling out some of cotton stuffing. Now he’s only half the pig he used to be.
Anyways, skipping forward a few years, the naps ceased, and work (wrote “wok”…it seems to be catching) increased…go rhyming! All of a sudden, you find yourself waking up on the bus, having been rudely awoken by an inconsiderate window making its presence known to the side of your head.
Maybe we’ve all got this round the wrong way. Should it, in fact be, the year 12s with the teddy bear blankets and soothing Old McDonald music?
Probably not. But still, it’d be good.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Life's Fun When You're Having Fun
“… and then they made me their chief.” It worked for Johnny Depp, so, unable to think of an adequate opening, why shouldn’t I launch into a paragraph mid-sentence? Well, grammer maybe…actually, no! Hey, because it’s a quote I can start midway through a sentence all I want :D Wow, life’s fun when you’re having fun.
So anyways, today was the UMAT, and so brace yourselves – here comes a rambling blow-by-blow account:
I could begin by asking you to cast your minds back, back to last night, but that would be wrong for two reasons:
1) I’m not beginning, because this paragraph is preceeded by two others, and,
2) It would be casting your minds back to your memories, which I could not possibly describe. Why? Two reasons:
a. Though I may have been there for some of it….
Right, that could go on forever, I’m starting again…well, by starting, I mean starting that paragraph again…but wait, that’s wrong, because if I was starting that paragraph again, I would have deleted it, and actually literally started it again. So by starting, I actually mean…
Ok. NEW paragraph. Last night was a flurry of flurriedness, as last minute practice-exam-doing was being done, my phone was kept under extremely careful surveillance as we tried to answer the all important, Shakespeare-esque question: “To Uniform or not to Uniform?” That [was] the question :P (Or, my personal favourite Spike Milligan poem: “Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I’ll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B?”)
“The OC” was half watched, before scurrying (just try scurrying…it’s difficult) off to bed. After turning 45, 90, 60, -45, 45+90 degrees, and still managing to not be comfortable, sleep was finally achieved, and sustained, until the polyphonic-ised “Ride of the Valkyries” infiltrated my brain (but hey, it’s better than my alarm clock being what my phone calls “Groove” but which could better be described as “plonkety dirge”) After about fifteen minutes of pure faffing about, bread was transmogrified into toast, smeared with jam, then eatensoquickthatIendedupfinishingitinthecar.
We Smallvilled (that’s traveling while listening to the “Smallville” soundtrack) our way to the showgrounds, where I was one of the first few to arrive. Highlights of the wait included the doors being locked, so fellow UMATees were literally left out in the cold, until about ten minutes later, when we were sent to join them. It’s amazing how many people out of about a thousand you actually know or recognize.
After a surprisingly non-scary bottleneck, we were issued with a seat number, and ushered into the BIGGEST ROOM EVER!!! (That’s right, no other room in the history of MAN has EVER been the same size) Having filled in all the correct ovals, and marveled at the magnificent orangeness, It Began. Then stopped. “Can I please have your attention. Question 8: 1998 Forest Fires. I repeat. 1998 Forest Fires.” It was confusing. Other than that, it all went like clockwork (though I mean that in its intended context, its still a silly phrase. How many clocks are fast or slow and showing the wrong time?)
But anyway, overall its’ been a good day, not least because: DR WHO WAS ON THE FRONT COVER OF THE 7 DAYS LIFTOUT!!!
So anyways, today was the UMAT, and so brace yourselves – here comes a rambling blow-by-blow account:
I could begin by asking you to cast your minds back, back to last night, but that would be wrong for two reasons:
1) I’m not beginning, because this paragraph is preceeded by two others, and,
2) It would be casting your minds back to your memories, which I could not possibly describe. Why? Two reasons:
a. Though I may have been there for some of it….
Right, that could go on forever, I’m starting again…well, by starting, I mean starting that paragraph again…but wait, that’s wrong, because if I was starting that paragraph again, I would have deleted it, and actually literally started it again. So by starting, I actually mean…
Ok. NEW paragraph. Last night was a flurry of flurriedness, as last minute practice-exam-doing was being done, my phone was kept under extremely careful surveillance as we tried to answer the all important, Shakespeare-esque question: “To Uniform or not to Uniform?” That [was] the question :P (Or, my personal favourite Spike Milligan poem: “Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I’ll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B?”)
“The OC” was half watched, before scurrying (just try scurrying…it’s difficult) off to bed. After turning 45, 90, 60, -45, 45+90 degrees, and still managing to not be comfortable, sleep was finally achieved, and sustained, until the polyphonic-ised “Ride of the Valkyries” infiltrated my brain (but hey, it’s better than my alarm clock being what my phone calls “Groove” but which could better be described as “plonkety dirge”) After about fifteen minutes of pure faffing about, bread was transmogrified into toast, smeared with jam, then eatensoquickthatIendedupfinishingitinthecar.
We Smallvilled (that’s traveling while listening to the “Smallville” soundtrack) our way to the showgrounds, where I was one of the first few to arrive. Highlights of the wait included the doors being locked, so fellow UMATees were literally left out in the cold, until about ten minutes later, when we were sent to join them. It’s amazing how many people out of about a thousand you actually know or recognize.
After a surprisingly non-scary bottleneck, we were issued with a seat number, and ushered into the BIGGEST ROOM EVER!!! (That’s right, no other room in the history of MAN has EVER been the same size) Having filled in all the correct ovals, and marveled at the magnificent orangeness, It Began. Then stopped. “Can I please have your attention. Question 8: 1998 Forest Fires. I repeat. 1998 Forest Fires.” It was confusing. Other than that, it all went like clockwork (though I mean that in its intended context, its still a silly phrase. How many clocks are fast or slow and showing the wrong time?)
But anyway, overall its’ been a good day, not least because: DR WHO WAS ON THE FRONT COVER OF THE 7 DAYS LIFTOUT!!!
Friday, July 21, 2006
Gibber English
What does one do with themselves without the structure of school to lead you by the hand through the day? You could pass the time constructively, doing homework, or UMAT practice. (certainly not by watching the entire season 3 of Scrubs in less than three days…) You could tidy your room, or… improve your Gibber-English vocabulary!
Take for example:
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i is good at the english
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i learn him from a book
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he is a naughty language. Not liking the spik.
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my dog likes to purple! does yours paper?
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the turtles! the turtles! The lady has the cloth!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the shoe to hit the clock!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
my brothers scarf, it goes beneath the head!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my brothers hand sock to wear the book!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
No, no, the vase it polished the soot!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the soot is my family photo!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it goes in the mantlepiece, next to the pine!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the papercut lies in the water!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
which is yellowed by the monkey basket!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the monkey basket!! get the table!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the father has seen the nest!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the birds see the card!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
The card which is the card of my uncle's aunt!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
she is the telephone!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the grandfather is behind the shell!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the clock is towards the cellar!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
she wants the eel of Christmas!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
not the eel! he is my chopstick!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lives beneath the bowl!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the cd! the cd!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it calls my brother in the night!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the bracelet is on the scissors!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the monkey laughs and the paper it white!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the man in the clock! he wear seven ribbon!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
his shoes the steamer tie!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
*stReamer
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the streamer sees the battery!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lights the sky with the fish
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the horse eats the fish's nose's eyes
That's texbook enigmatic says:
while purple, he is the cat
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but my dog purples!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he itches without the ear!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the ticket the ear's seven!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he closes the trapdoor! Pickles!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
pickles!! get the charging bull!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he reads the word heavily!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the teeths run the pen!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
if only he carary oftener!
Embrace Gibber-English! The language of The Future!!!
Take for example:
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i is good at the english
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
i learn him from a book
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he is a naughty language. Not liking the spik.
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my dog likes to purple! does yours paper?
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the turtles! the turtles! The lady has the cloth!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the shoe to hit the clock!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
my brothers scarf, it goes beneath the head!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
my brothers hand sock to wear the book!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
No, no, the vase it polished the soot!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the soot is my family photo!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it goes in the mantlepiece, next to the pine!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the papercut lies in the water!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
which is yellowed by the monkey basket!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the monkey basket!! get the table!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the father has seen the nest!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the birds see the card!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
The card which is the card of my uncle's aunt!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
she is the telephone!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the grandfather is behind the shell!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the clock is towards the cellar!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
she wants the eel of Christmas!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
not the eel! he is my chopstick!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lives beneath the bowl!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but the cd! the cd!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it calls my brother in the night!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the bracelet is on the scissors!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
the monkey laughs and the paper it white!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the man in the clock! he wear seven ribbon!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
his shoes the steamer tie!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
*stReamer
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the streamer sees the battery!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
it lights the sky with the fish
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the horse eats the fish's nose's eyes
That's texbook enigmatic says:
while purple, he is the cat
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
but my dog purples!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he itches without the ear!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the ticket the ear's seven!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he closes the trapdoor! Pickles!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
pickles!! get the charging bull!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
he reads the word heavily!
sez ;; capital letters are overrated says:
the teeths run the pen!
That's texbook enigmatic says:
if only he carary oftener!
Embrace Gibber-English! The language of The Future!!!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!
Once you find yourself treading in the dangerous “Once-Upon-A-Tree-Lived-Some-Pineapples-Who-Didn’t-Like-People territory, you know that you’ve been playing bus travelling games for too long.
…I’m sorry. The previous statement had nothing to do with anything. Personally I blame “Erasure.”
It’s the “Penultimate Day” of Term Two, which means one thing, and one thing only…ASSIGNMENTS! So, taking that into careful consideration, I’m going to catch the fastest tangent-bus away, and concentrate on television.
In a week of heartfelt whinging at t.v’s expense, I feel thoroughly left out, and so would like to put forward the following suggested improvement:
Neighbours. Where is the reality? Boyd is doing a medical degree, and yet is never at university, and instead has spent the last two weeks “gadding about.” It’s time that Neighbours took a leaf out of the 24 book, and started filming in real time. This is most definitely what the Australian public wants, and so I have taken the liberty of preparing the following excerpt from:
“The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!!!”
[Fades in from Black, to The Opening Credits. Simon and Garfunkle’s “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” plays on loop in the background, while the screen displays various black and white pictures of flowerpots. After ten minutes, this fades out to black. Tense music is playing in the background while the screen remains dark, when it fades to reveal…]
Boyd sitting at a desk, angle-poise lamp trained on a GIANT textbook, while he quietly makes notes in green pen. The camera angle does not change, and there is no sound, except for the incessant dripping of a tap, which gets increasingly louder. After 5 minutes of this…
Boyd: I feel I can stand this dripping no longer!
He walks out of shot. There is three minutes of pure, textbook filled screen, while in the background the sound of an epic battle between man and tap can be heard. Finally the dripping stops, and Boyd re-enters the frame, now wearing a different shirt. This is not explained.
Boyd: Ah! Now. Back to the study!
The scene continues much in this way, including memorable moments such as: “Boyd highlights a paragraph about the lumbar system,” “Car playing Doof Doof music drives past the window,” “Max brings Boyd a glass of Water,” and finally, the episode's cliffhanger: “Oh where has my mechanical pencil gone?”
What do you think? Give the public what they want!
Hmm…or maybe I’m sleep deprived.
…I’m sorry. The previous statement had nothing to do with anything. Personally I blame “Erasure.”
It’s the “Penultimate Day” of Term Two, which means one thing, and one thing only…ASSIGNMENTS! So, taking that into careful consideration, I’m going to catch the fastest tangent-bus away, and concentrate on television.
In a week of heartfelt whinging at t.v’s expense, I feel thoroughly left out, and so would like to put forward the following suggested improvement:
Neighbours. Where is the reality? Boyd is doing a medical degree, and yet is never at university, and instead has spent the last two weeks “gadding about.” It’s time that Neighbours took a leaf out of the 24 book, and started filming in real time. This is most definitely what the Australian public wants, and so I have taken the liberty of preparing the following excerpt from:
“The All-New-and-Improved Neighbours!!!”
[Fades in from Black, to The Opening Credits. Simon and Garfunkle’s “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” plays on loop in the background, while the screen displays various black and white pictures of flowerpots. After ten minutes, this fades out to black. Tense music is playing in the background while the screen remains dark, when it fades to reveal…]
Boyd sitting at a desk, angle-poise lamp trained on a GIANT textbook, while he quietly makes notes in green pen. The camera angle does not change, and there is no sound, except for the incessant dripping of a tap, which gets increasingly louder. After 5 minutes of this…
Boyd: I feel I can stand this dripping no longer!
He walks out of shot. There is three minutes of pure, textbook filled screen, while in the background the sound of an epic battle between man and tap can be heard. Finally the dripping stops, and Boyd re-enters the frame, now wearing a different shirt. This is not explained.
Boyd: Ah! Now. Back to the study!
The scene continues much in this way, including memorable moments such as: “Boyd highlights a paragraph about the lumbar system,” “Car playing Doof Doof music drives past the window,” “Max brings Boyd a glass of Water,” and finally, the episode's cliffhanger: “Oh where has my mechanical pencil gone?”
What do you think? Give the public what they want!
Hmm…or maybe I’m sleep deprived.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Technological Rebellion
I don’t understand my computer’s newfound disdain for me. Not only is it an assassin of conversation, it is an avid supported of the Windows Blue Screen of Death, the dreaded hue appearing at regular intervals, proclaiming the occurrence of some random “Fatal Error” known only by an illuminating name such as: “F110942HK00”.
It’s not as though it is mistreated, or acting out in a pre-teen (it’s only six years old) rebellion. Does it have it’s own space? Yes! Does it get regular attention? Yes! Does it get weekly, time consuming anti-virus scans? Yes!
So what is causing this rift, nay void that’s ever increasing in size? Acting out, it won’t go to sleep when I tell it to, and as a result, takes ages to get going the next day.
…it must be in cahoots with “The Bag.”
It’s not as though it is mistreated, or acting out in a pre-teen (it’s only six years old) rebellion. Does it have it’s own space? Yes! Does it get regular attention? Yes! Does it get weekly, time consuming anti-virus scans? Yes!
So what is causing this rift, nay void that’s ever increasing in size? Acting out, it won’t go to sleep when I tell it to, and as a result, takes ages to get going the next day.
…it must be in cahoots with “The Bag.”
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Gallivanting
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
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
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"?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)