. . . 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.
Weeeird.
. . . 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.
You wanna know whats funny?
Last night I went to bed at 11.00 p.m.
Epic Self-Realisation time: I am fucking boring. . . . I think I'v a few entries for that http://dearblankpleaseblank.com/ page.
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. . .
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".