. . . So just let me get some of this internet slang stuff straight:
"I loled" They're saying: "I Laughed Out LoudED" . . . That's not a real way to use an acronym. "lulz" They're saying: "Laugh Ut LoudZ" . . . that's not even english. "rofl" They're saying: "Rolling On Floor Laughing" . . . which would make an english teacher turn to drink "asl" They're saying: "Age/Sex/Location" . . . NOT as I first assumed, a shorthand way of saying "Asshole" "g2g" They're saying: "Got "2" Go" . . . which saves all the hassle and bother of typing One Goddamn Letter. "lmao" They're saying: "Laughing My Ass Off" . . . which always confused me. I mean, where does a phrase like that come from? Is it just hyperbole from a really weird source or did it actually happen one time and someone thought "Actually, I think I'll turn that person's horrible accident into a phrase, which can then be bastardised and overused so that it retains none if its original meaning. "stfu" No, YOU "steffew".
. . .
Just because I'm such a nice guy and I can't really give you an eye exam over an internet connection, I'm going to check your spoken literacy levels.
Say these OUT LOUD and really fast
"I won a math debate."
"I am sofa king we Todd did." "Hoof hearted ice melted."
Hurr. I laffed. . . .
Wanna know some interesting things?
- Your open hand can cover exactly one half of your entire face.
Give it a try now.
. . .
Why the f*ck did you hesitate? You really think I'm going to do that thing where I smack your own hand into your face? Well, ok, the internet connection between us was the only thing stopping me from doing that.
But seriously, also,
- When you curl your fingers, or make a half-fist, all your fingers point to your thumb.
. . . That's the end.
FORTHISWEEK! Gotcha. Now go do some gardening or something . . .
So on sunday my parents decided to up and leave and go for a trip to Donegal (north of Ireland) for a few days. No real reason, just that my dad was bored and there wasn't really anything goin on on the farm for a while. Harvest not ripe, spuds not ready to be picked, silage already cut etc.
There was only one or two jobs for me to do while me and my sisters are the only ones here, so of course I'm doing sweet fuck all and spending most of my time on the internet. I play all my games, I watch videos and play games online, I chat to all my friends (I'm kinda in an area too rural to go out in, but I'm okay with that, and I spend all day doing my hobbies like drawing, sketching, archery, playing piano, jogging, etc.
Dear life, When I asked "What's the worst that could happen?" That was rhetorical. Thank you, Me.
Dear body, Why is it when I'm trying to go to bed without waking the whole house up, that's the time when you choose to stub yourself on every available surface, trip on nothing, and fall onto a bookshelf? Just out of interest, Me.
Dear Internet, Just. Just stop. Seriously. Please. With the whole Just everything. No? Not even a little. Fuck you too. I didn't need a life anyway. From Me. . . . That's your crappy little midweek embarressment for now. Go f@# your *%+$ or something . . .
So if something is logical, then it works on logic, right?
Then if something is illogical, then it works on . . .
. . . illogic? I 'unno.
. . .
In an effort to "keep up with the kids" as my agent calls it (and by agent I mean the plasic smurf on my bedside table) I fimly believe that the true voice of a generation lies with its musicians.
With this in mind, I decided to give my honest opinions (as if I can give any other) on the latest releases in the music charts according to http://www.billboard.com/new-releases . (Note that these all appear to have been released as part of albums previously or something, but these are the single releases. Also, I'm typing in real time. Because I'm hardcore like that.)
So, once more unto the breach, dear friends. I'm just going outside and may be some time. Some other third quote where the speaker dies straight afterwards.
1) The Kickback - Cali Swag District While the first half minute of this is, I swear to god, unintelligible, and the beat borrowed from 1993, this doesn't seem like too bad a song. . . Until about 3 minutes in when the guy who appears not to have hit puberty yet starts to, and I say this with inverted commas the size of skyscrapers; "rap". I don't know where the power drill in my hands suddenly appeared from, but I barely managed to stop myself self-lobotomising before the song ended. Score: 1-star.
2) Neon - Chris Young Ok, straight off the bat. "Young" is completely misleading. Was not expecting this. At all. Actually liking it more as I listen to it. . . . . . aaaaand now I'm bored. Ok, so with a song and artist name like that, I admit I'm typing this on the fly, I'm really pleasantly surprised. Nice to hear someone with talent and musical ability, albeit a bit lacking in passion. But hearing me say stuff is good is no fun. Next!
3) Gold Cobra - Limp Bizkit Nnnnnngggggggggetawayfrommepowerdrill! Shit. I used to like these guys? What the hell do hormones do to people to make this crud sell? There was literally nothing memorable about this song, video, or experience. Then again, the video does have some nice, bouncy boobs. Oooh. Right. That's what hormones do. Excuse me a moment.
4) Attention Please - Boris Oh. One of these songs. I know the type. Artistic songs. Said in the same way one would describe a particularly flatulent member of a crowd in a stuck lift-5-Jesus-tapdancing-minutes?!?? I know exactly how to deal with this *clicks next* The next one better be a helluva lot better than that. Then again, it'd be pretty hard to go lower than that monotone, dreary, mumbly crap.
5) Greyson Chance - Hold on 'til the Night (throws headphones away) No. Just no. Fuck that sugar-pop shit for a game of monopoly. Fuck this. This was a terrible idea. I'm going to retreat back into my comfort zone of video game soundtracks now. Bye.
. . . I just realised I'm giving these tools more publicity. Curses! You win again music industry! (shakes fist at sky, twirls moustache and flies away in a blimp.)
That's all this time. Go listen to some decent music or something . . .
Reverse Cowboys and Anal-iens The Smutts Captain (south) America: The Fist Avenger Hairy Pooner and the Breastly Hallows Part XXII Crazy, Stupid, Sex. Friends with Benefi-Whaddya mean that's what the movie's called already? Uhh . . . Friends with More Befefits? Like really, really weird Benefits. Butt Stuff Benefits. Horrible Asses Transgenders: Dark of the (Full) Moon Zookeeper('s Gone Wild, Extended Edition with Directors Commentary) Midnight in Paris (Wait, isn't this a porn movie already???) Winny The Pooh-lover.
(I hate myself so much right now. Like you have no idea how much I want to punch myself in the balls for that last sentence.)
. . .
I witnessed something horrible yesterday. So absolutely soul-scarring I couldn't bring myself to type about it. But one fitful, restless, sleepless night convinced me I have to let it out of my system.
Punch and Judy Shows are the spawn of Satan.
Not in any small, puppets-are-really-freaky, kinda way, either. This is the proper stuff of nightmares. The standard Punch and Judy Show plys out like this: Mr. Punch (we're already off to a great start with that kind of name. It gets worse.) Punch is left in charge of the baby. Angry with the crying, he hits it off the floor til it "goes to sleep". Judy comes to see whats going on and (understandably) attacks him. Mr. Punch then beats her to death with a stick. (Jesus! Is this a kids show or a gritty horror movie?) Throwing the two bodies out the window attracts a passing policeman. The rest of it is just Punch outwitting a crocodile, policeman, clown, and doctor (whom he proceeds to kick the everloving shit of while he's being examined). He eventually escapes from prison, but in the earlier versions, he outwits the hangman by convincing him to put his own head in the noose. All the while, screaming his catchphrase maniacally "ThAt's ThE wAy To DoO IIt!!!!" And we show kids this? No wonder we're all morally bankrupt.
(One quick wikipedia later) This shit has been performed since 1662?!? What the shit, people??!?! . . .
That's all. Now go make a non-late blog post or something. . .
Going to cycle into town yesterday with friends for the weekly table quiz in the pub. Suddenly cycled into a solid wall of water. Took a second to realise this was actually rain when it didn't go away. Took shelter under a tree, which helped for the first 10 minutes, then stopped helping. We sorta figured it'd only be a short shower but the weather gods were like DURR HURR NOPE. YOU'RE GONNA BE THERE A WHILE YOU LITTLE NON-WATERPROOF BUTTMUNCHES. Now thoroughly soaked, we cycled back to the house as fast as we could. We cycled 200m before it stopped raining. Turns out we had managed to find the most localised tropical rainstorm ever. We could have been sitting underneath a giant funnel and not have gotten so wet. And of course Mr. Rain is all DERP DERP DERP GOTCHA NUMNUTS! NOW IMMA GO FLOAT PROMISINGLY OVER SOME AFRICAN COUNTRY BEFORE DISAPPEARING COS THAT'S JUST THE SORT OF WANKBAG I AM! DOODEDODEDO!
Funny thing was I was getting ready to fly home the next day. And the airline service had a 1-bag policy. So I had had to send all by clothes home in a big box via the post office. Just. Earlier. That. Day.
And now the only clothes I had for 2 days were soaked. Fucking. Joy. . . .
1) Ransom by LRR
2) Jumping on a Giant Water Balloon by The Slo Mo Guys
3) Water Balloon to the Face by Discovery Channel
4)The Devil's Advocate Speech in kinetic typography
5) Bootleg Fireworks: Subtitled Version
. . . There. Now go do something that isn't wasting your time watching ridiculous internet videos all day . . .
Wow! According to this, this month the blog got 20 views from . . .
. . . trafficfaker.com . . .
Seriously you guys? I mean, come the fuck on. It's like spammers just aren't even trying any more.
It's like after nigerian princes and zimbabwe lottery winners they're all just out of ideas.
Here's a few for ya: "Your bank has just recently miscalculated your tax credits: fill in your details to recieve the-" (no, wait. I can do better)
"Ninjas have kidnapped your mother, Mr. Geordanicci! You have 40 seconds from the time you open this email til they turn her into slightly-forgetful, excellent-spaghetti-and-meatballs-maker sushi. UNLESS you photocopy your passport in reply to this to make sure we haven't got the wrong guy. Then attach your social security number for shits and giggles extra security."
That's better. . . . I am officially all out of ideas . . . . NO, WAIT!
Fill in the blanks in the comments and I will return your humourously random paragraph in a reply comment within the day. Who knows? You might just learn something about yourself. And that thing will be that you have issues. Scary issues. GO!
Silly Word: Last Name: Illness: Noun (plural): Adjective: Different Adjective: Different Silly Word: Place: Number: Yet Another Different Adjective:
Here, to show you how much fun this could be, I'll do (a different!) one first to show you how it's done:
The Industry`s Most Highly Awarded... Mad Lib
"Without doubt Boobs Inc. has left its Boob with us as some of the most Boob-LikeBoobs on the Breasts... This Boobs that we highly recommend for BoobishBoobers and high-end Mammaries."
. . . hmm. . . I need help. . .
No I am not being lazy by making you do the comedy for me. What ever gave you that idea? . . . That's all right now. Now go talk to me or something. . . I'm so ronery.
This is a Longan. Also known as a Lungan. Also known as DRAGON'S EYES.
. . . That's right. Motherfucking DRAGON'S EYES.
And no, there is no other way to type that. It's one of those things that's engrained in the male psyche.
It's an exotic fruit used in china. It's flesh is very sweet and I highly recommend buying a few if you have the chance.
You bite it slightly to break the skin, and then the skin slides off, and then you bite into it and
BOOM! FUCK! WHAT THE HELL?
Why? Why the hell would you not tell me that there is a massive, fuckoff seed in the middle of the goddamn fruit, friend-of-a-friend who offered this to me? This has turned a perfectly good taste-bud massage into a veritable sense-of-taste clusterbomb of hate.
I really hate it when fruit pulls a sucker punch on you like that.
So here's some others I can bitch about!
-Fruit ---Sneaky motherfuckers
2) Peach Yeah, that's right. I'm calling you out on this you delicious seductress. You ever tried to do the thing where you cut it on the halfway mark and then try to twist it apart? I can't. Fucker just leaves my hands looking like I tried to finger-paint with rotten fish mush. Ruins one of my favourite fruits.
3) Bananas in fruit salad
What the fuck? I see you there, trying to hide. Trying to turn that wonderful, sharp-tasting dessert into mushy, bland inedibility. Don't you da- I SAID DON'T YOU DARE DISINTEGRATE INTO PASTY, GROSS SYRU-oh fuck. Too late.
4) Prunes that haven't been de-seeded.
Fuck you. Just. Fuck. You. - signed, My Teeth.
5) When Oranges Spit You In The Eyes When You Try And Peel Them, The Devious, Malevolent Asshats.
When Or-oh. Kinda let the title speak for itself there.
. . .
Th-Th-Th-Th-The-The-Th-That's all folks! Now go watch X-Men or something. . .
Hello. I am Nijerian prinse Majeerah Akinwunmahadjalalilimajereshertiaaaaaaaymacarena, and I am coming on you to be helping me with my long problem. Please be excusing the fact that I cannot spel prinsce. Or Nygeria. You see, for years I have been moneyless in my home country of Insert Third World Country Here. But now I find I am royalty. But now we need you help. You see Insert Email Address Before The @ Symbol, Making It Look Like A Name, I need your credit card details to ensure I can become it. (note to self: ask scamming supervisor how exactly this is supposed to work) Anyways, if you should become so kind as to reply with your bank account details, I will am thankful so much that I will recieve you 20% of monies which I will recieve.
. . . and if are not believing that, then I will be sending you emails every days the next 18 years with lottery story instead of royals.
. . .
Just back from the gym.
My biceps and triceps seem to have put aside their petty differences and formed a union. Gluteus Maximus is attempting to join too, but they're arguing that that fat lazy bastard just sits on. . . well . . . himself all day. My heart seems to be considering temporary strike action on all function because of working hours disputes. This is very worrying, but the heart's petty squabbles with my brain over my behaviour seem to be distracting it from any decisive action. My lungs aren't too worried as they can deal with the burning sensation that comes with exercise for now, but they warn that if I take up smoking, they will attempt to escape via my ears. My eyes gave up long ago, beaten into submission by the horrible, horrible things I've seen on the internet. Unfortunately, their little passive-aggressive revolt involves slowly degenerating into mush. My liver's wondering if it can hire a lawyer it knows, who's a real asshole, to file charges against me for domestic alcohol abuse. My back just wants to sleep on a bed that won't add 40 years to my life. My elbows are. Um. Still there I guess. No one gives a shit about those guys. Also, my teeth think I should take up knitting, but that's probably mental damage from the tin foil I've been chewing. Lastly, my thumbs are signing a petition to be legally classified as "fingers" saying the segregation has gone on too long. But they spend their whole day playing video games, so they don't know what the hell they're talking about.
. . .
That's all at this moment. Now go watch a new movie in the cinema rather than torrenting it or something . . .
So wait . . . if I want my friends to know something, and be ABSOLUTELY SURE that they'll know it . . . . . . I tweet it with their #hashtag . . . . . . I post it to their Facebook page . . . . . . I tag them in a Facebook post about it . . . . . . I send them a private message on Facebook . . . . . . I send them a private chat message on Facebook . . . . . . I send them a text . . . . . . I send them an email from my hotmail account . . . . . . I send them an email from my gmail account . . . . . . I ring them on their mobile phone and tell them about it . . . . . . I send them a message on Google+ . . . . . . I post on their page on Google+ . . . . . . I post on their Bebo or MySpace page (pfft!) . . . . . . I send leave them a message on their blog, Blogger or Wordpress page . . . . . . I leave them a message on YouTube . . . . . . I send them a video response on YouTube . . . . . . I call them on Skype . . . . . . I video call them on Skype . . . . . . I message them on Skype . . . . . . I message them on MSN . . . . . . I message them on Steam . . . . . . I leave them a private message on any of their account on literally every and any website that has that social media bullshit attached to it . . . OR I get up. Walk to where they are. And actually talk to them over a coffee or bowl of soup.
Take your goddamn pick. I know which one I'd prefer. . . .
*Read in a booming, deep voice that shakes the very foundations of the soul*
In a world . . .
. . . where "Cribs" is considered entertainment . . .
. . . where people think "alot" is actually a real word . . .
. . . and where the game Duke Nukem Forever was finally released after 13 years in development to turn out to be totally shit, . . . one man we-
. . . what? . . .
. . . what do you mean, "It's this world!"? . . .
. . . seriously? . . .
. . . well, shit. . . .
. . .
In other news: HOLY UNDESERVED ATTENTION, BATMAN!!! 2000 PAGEVIEWS!
I'd like to thank my fans, (both of them)
My mom and dad (for not aborting me when I was at my most vulnerable, now I am far too strong for anyone to stop me ahahah. AHAHAHAHAHA *cough* ahem.)
The adoring public (even though I've never seen this mysterious, theoretical demographic. They're like electrons personified. You know they must be there, but by the time you find them, they've already moved on.)
And Jesus (Despite letting millions of people starve and be murdered every hour of every day. Actually, what has that lazy hoor ever done for me? Besides the whole death thing. What a douche. Always trying to guilt trip you into being a better person for one thing that made him look kinda good a few milennia ago.)
. . .
That's it right now. Now go get fired keep your job or something . . .
I'm a Product Design student in the University of Limerick, Ireland, with a penchant for video games and sarcasm. I've been described as "Like a John Cleese made of stone" and "the guy with the glasses. . . no, not him, the other one".
. . .
If the blog reads like something farted out of the back pages of a cut-price philosophy textbook, that's because I was going for a "stream of consciousness" approach, but had to settle for "trickle of basic sentience".