A fully loaded Uzi 9 mm of well-balanced opinions!

Things can always get worse. This is an iron-clad rule we must all learn the hard way.

Examples?

 . . .

Bad Luck: Finding a worm in your apple.

Worse Luck: Finding evidence that a worm may have been making residence in the apple which you just ate.

Bad Karma Overload: The apple is a grenade.

Bad Luck: Getting caught out in heavy rain.

Worse Luck:  . . . while a mile away from home with a dead mobile phone, unable to call for help.

Bad Karma Overload: . . . when you're a snowman.

Bad Luck: Realising you've missed a deadline.

Worse Luck: Realising you've missed a final exam.

Bad Karma Overload: Realising you've missed out on all the opprtunities for meaningful relationships in your life, and they were all dependant on the exams you missed.

Bad Luck: Getting dumped.

Worse Luck: . . . at the altar.

Bad Karma Overload: . . . because she thought you were a woman all this time.

Bad Luck: A collision between your car and another's.

Worse Luck: . . . which leaves your car with a scratch and none on the other's.

Bad Karma Overload: The scratch is three feet deep and six long. Through the engine.

Bad Luck: You get an illness.

Worse Luck: . . . from a loved one.

Bad Karma Overload: . . . it's terminal, and your lover leaves you for your care nurse.

Bad Luck: Your housemate eats your plate of food in the fridge, they throw half of it away.

Worse Luck:  It's after the nuclear apocalypse. There is no other food around without risking dismemberment by the mutants who live out in the wasteland.

Bad Karma Overload: The food landed on that big ball of fuzzy stuff that came out of the dryer.

Bad Luck: Your house gets robbed.

Worse Luck: The thieves ignore the valuable stuff and take only yours.

Bad Karma Overload: You have no proof of ownership, so you have to buy it back off them over eBay.

Bad Luck: Someone else uses your scissors to cut their hair.

Worse Luck: They have lice.

Bad Karma Overload: They don't have any hair on their head.

Bad Luck: You die the most embarrassing death imaginable. (I'm thinking something involving a sex toy factory and a world leader's summit)

Worse Luck: . . . your death was broadcast live to the whole world, with record-breaking viewing figures.

Bad Karma Overload: . . . after everything else on this list had happened to you earlier in the week.

Karmapocalypse: . . . your birth name is Racistlover McTwinklytits Jr.

 . . . 
Take a guess as to how many of those events have happened to me. I'll give you a clue. It's more than one.
 . . . 
WOOHOO! Over 500 pageviews bitches! Next milestone is 1000!

Wait . . . what the fuck did I write in July? Seriously, I made like, 2 posts that month.
Did I finally get onto an FBI watch list, or what?
 . . . 

That's a wrap for now. Now go watch a movie in bed or something.

Increase font size by one: Increase pagecount by three. Repeat until requirement reached.

Do they do crash tests on clown cars? if they do, how many dummies can they fit in it?

 . . .

Has anyone ever stopped to think of just how much horseshit they have to wade through just to do some simple stuff these days? I swear to god that the ultimate heat death of the human race will not be all explodey and filled with cool lighting effects like Hollywood seems to think, but will come on the end of an inked rubber stamp.

 The permission slip to burn the last tree, the law legalising personal nuclear armaments, the law that says big brother can legally return to TV for another fifty fucking seasons. I have seen the future, people! It's filled with "reality" TV and automated sandwiches!

 . . .

So I just found that when I put "tired" into my phone's predictive text, it gives me the suggestion "three-way", confirming that I am the saddest man in the world, due to the fact that even my phone is telling me to get a social life. Although a friend argued that it wasn't hinting at a social life, just at a sex life. Gee, thanks.

Alternatively, the phone may be have achieved sentience, and has celebrated it by doing what all self-aware beings do: try to get laid immediately, constantly, and occasionally, vigorously.

I have also found that my phone's dictionary does not contain the word "penis". Don't ask how I found out. Now, seriously. It has the word Wikipedia in it for fecks sake. It's a medical term, look it up. Wait, you shouldn't have to, you're a DICTIONARY for crying out loud.

 . . .

Blueprint for every regular facebook chat conversation ever:


words

laughter + smiley face

misspelling. . . smiley face

expletive. . . smiley face

humorous observation

penguin 
 

 . . . the only alternative I'm aware of is the one that goes thusly.


overly chummy greeting . . . smiley face

reply with mildly threatening undertone

admission of request for help with assignment

polite refusal
cave in and give bare minimum of facts

Thanks profusely

exits conversation and attempts self-lobotomy using nearest brick wall
 . . . 
I can't think of anything else. That's your lot for now.
Now go and bake a cake or something. . .

Always avoid annoying alliteration.

Ok, so step 1: short blog post. Check. Good. Step 2: get a decent camera. . . not so check.
So after a brief traipse (is that even a word?) around some blogs, it seems the most successful offer thoughtful, well-balanced opinions or galleries of pictures. Well, I'm halfway there, anyway.
I've been hit with the realisation that the last paragraph completely goes against my aim of not doing this for anyone but myself, but being who I am, the least I can do is try to make someone else happy. The whole reason anyone would even visit this page would be if I can offer something to the viewer. So what can I offer?
Thoughtful insights are, believe me, few and far between when dealing with the inside of my head, so thats out.
Galleries of images take time, research and effort to put together, and I'm distinctly short on at least two of those qualities (take a guess which).
Or do I make some kind of diary blog that journals my rollercoaster of an existance, such as http://worldfrommywindow.blogspot.com/? This was just in the "Blogs of Note section of the dashboard, and if you read it you should find the quaint rural point of view of life that so often goes unnoticed on the internet todaOHMYGODITSSOFUCKINGBORING! PEOPLE FOLLOW THIS CRUD?!?
I came to Limerick to get away from shittacular farm life, but avoiding the general dickhead mentality that I've seen in Dublin. That should just about show you how riveting my everyday life is. Not. Very. My life is to excitement what discussion of the Yang-Mills Theory is to sex. They do not overlap.
If you actually want to read about how my exams went today, or why I think that this person you've never heard of, nor will ever meet, is such a great character, or why I enjoy my life, specifically, to make you feel worse about yours, you need your fucking head examined.
Aw, crap. Another long, unreadable blog post. But, hey, if you skipped straight to this bit, congrats, you're mostly normal.
Now go draw a picture or something.