Blurty for Hans Liu.

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Monday, May 22nd, 2006

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Subject:Holy Crapola Batman!
Time:9:07 pm.
Mood: amused.
Music:Steve Vai - Speed Metal Symphony.
If there are any night zombies or pediatricians paying attention to this journal, it has relocated to livejournal.
I have been whored up and succumbed to the purdiness.

Enjoy your lives, sincerely :)

Thursday, May 18th, 2006

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Subject:The Unlikely Response of Mr. Artemis Badger in a Matter of Life and Death
Time:12:52 am.
Mood: worried.
Music:Eskimo Joe - Planet Earth.
Of no relevance and absolutely no intended offense. Of course, having an idea stuck in your head for three hours straight does strange things to a person...

Tuesday, May 9th, 2006

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Subject:Totally Addicted to Lace (Not really)
Time:4:16 pm.
Mood: bored.
Music:Death Cab for Cutie - Photobooth.
In lieu of the present climate of pure procrastination and confusion at assignments which scream out to be completed, lame tendencies spring up like ostriches from a sandbox. Of course, that leads to mock creativity, the lamenting of a lack of graphics tablet, and in the end, a drawing leaning heavily on bad punnage.

The result?

To Mock a Killingbird

He won't make THAT mistake again.

Monday, May 8th, 2006

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Subject:Of Gods and men, and why they must truly be regretful
Time:7:01 pm.
Mood: artistic.
Music:The String Quartet - Lucky.
I now see the light
but the light don't see me,
Cause it's crimson, not golden
and dark as can be.

It brings all my fears,
and my troubles to face,
myself in the presence of
Gods in this place.

But these ones are dreary,
and followed by guilt, of
mistakes from a time
their society built.

I look up to their gazes,
and bury the past
to continue tomorrow,
my will iron-cast.

But the shackles of history,
bind every arm
of the Gods in this place
where we'be all come to harm.

My wrists now metallic,
I rue and lament
All these errors, misfortunes were
from heaven sent.

And now there's no light
for the cities we made.
We're just sinking your ships
with our holy grenade.

Gideon and Methias would never have been so proud, nor would they have been nearly as confused at the convoluted references and shady depictions of their personalities. In any case, there is no point to this besides the inherent need to update after an extended stint away from online activity.

Charlotte's world wide web, of silky threads and baited hooks,
lures countless millions in, with sparkles and vivacious looks.

Her lingering aroma, and figures of high download speed,
Leave victims in the crossfire, or prudence and alluring need.

Monday, December 5th, 2005

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Subject:Leaving on a jet plane...
Time:1:43 am.
Mood: drained.
Music:Bright Eyes - Train Under Water.
Incredibly long time between updates equals variety of reasons including exams and the stress involved. But they be over now anyway! And to think, results to come out in a mere four days. Oh, if only I had a crab for every mollusc on the planet, there would be a much more vastly entertaining form of gambling than illegal animal fights. Being an update, I feel obliged to make it short and informative. Away for three weeks to the piracy capital of the world, to catch up with people you would normally never see be it not for random occassions on which excuses are found to do so. Yes, you guessed it, another family reunion, and the piracy capital, although not Smuggler's Cove, resides in Malaysia. Endeavouring to update more regularly will be pursued upon arrival back to the land of marsupials, and I have no idea of whom I'm even saying goodbye to. An unknown audience, or perhaps more realistically, a non-existant one, is a little difficult to direct farewells to. But might as well attempt one in any case.

Multitudes of flowery bushels be raining upon those who actually come accross this, and I'll prepare a suitably short re-arrival ramble after Christmas.

You may not believe in penguins, but they sure believe in you.

Thursday, October 20th, 2005

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Subject:A love poem to please even goblins with herpes
Time:5:36 pm.
Mood: indifferent.
Music:Wilco - Heavy Metal Drummer.
We were such good friends.
We did everything together.
But you had to go and spoil it all.

You said I smelled like dry butter on a winter's day.
I said you were retarded.
We took it as a sign.

Now I love your elbow.
Its curve is to die for.
I would keep it in a cage if I could.

I tried.
You were sleeping.
But the saw was too blunt.

That morning I made waffles for two.
Mine had honey.
Yours had bees.

You say you love my elbow too.
They could have children.
Little elbow children.

But I still hate you.
You think you're so special.
It was only a grasshopper you ate.

Our elbows are getting closer.
I told mine to keep its distance.
It didn't listen.

We still don't talk.
I think it is worse now.
I kissed you with my fist.

Our noses are now enemies.
You named yours James.
I called mine James is stupid.

Your elbow is still attractive.
I tried to steal it again last night.
I missed and got your spleen.

However, we still learn things about each other.
You have no toenails.
My hair is pasta.

Be safe, my partially loved.
I ask you to look the other way.
Now your shoes are stolen.

Wednesday, October 19th, 2005

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Subject:Love, Butterflies and all things in between...
Time:12:02 am.
Mood: drained.
Music:The New Pornographers - The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism.
For those who don't believe in love, they've obviously not had enough cheese as a child. Scientific studies have been undertaken to prove that increased dairy intake in the adolescant years leads to a subsequent increase in the amount of infatiation subjectivity in a person. You'd also be led to wonder why on earth a type of cheese would be known as "tasty" cheese. I mean, I think it's fair to say that "tasty" would primarily cover all types of cheese anyway, so prefixing it to this wonderment in foody delights is ridiculously narrow minded. On a totally different track, how about trains. A button is a button unless on a door, in which case it becomes a device for automatic slidage of opening appendage-grabbers, otherwise known as train entrances. Of course, if you have absolutely no idea what this is about, then join the boat, or we're in the same club...whatever plucks your feathers.

This is probably an update for the sake of updating. There is no spoon when you're eating steak, which would make a splendid picture, and already has. Refer to creative writing exercise book invariably smothered in boredom-induced scribblage. Mentions of Gumby, Gandalf and other g-appearing and g-sounding apparitions spring to mind like the coils of a tightly wound slinky. That is of course, if slinkies could be wound. Slinky, slinky shine so bright, will you be my toy tonight? Or maybe there is someone new, who you would love like morning dew? Much love for inanimate objects, guitars and low budget road bikes among them. Too many bikes to be observed this weekend, arms so red as to resemble lobster eyelids and such. Anyway, be safe all, and while the point of this entry may be lost in the sands of time and water of destiny, may we all be swayed by cheese.


Saturday, October 8th, 2005

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Subject:I hate the way you make me love, but love the way you make me feel...
Time:11:43 pm.
Mood: blank.
Music:The Whitlams - Life's a Beach.
How do you escape something that you travel back to every day? There's always a perculiar feeling of fatal fate when you need to escape, yet the means to escape is through the very thing you're trying to escape in the first place. Kind of ironic, one might say, unless they were in a similarly ironic situation, like running away from a crocodile-ridden beach into shark-infested waters. Hyphenated joining is in nowadays, apparantly. Anyway, there also comes a time in all lives when a casually sadistic story must be written. When in the mood, of course.

From the Heart

The lifeless form is placed on the cold, metal table.

Female. Age 24. Car accident.

The coroner examines her, glossing over minor imperfections to admire her inner beauty. A cracked ribcage from the impact reveals shards of metal embedded deep within her flesh, staining the white sheet of an otherwise perfect canvas. He opens her chest, removing shrapnel along the way - calmly, methodically. The scarlet mass remains glistening, as if in anticipation, but he is too practiced to be drawn into its call just yet.

He cleans, examines, records.

A prize of such magnificence always takes time, and this one is as beautiful on the inside as the outside suggests. Lungs sculpted by God himself, he thinks, with kidneys of no equal. Most of all though, he treasures their hearts, and hers is no exception; amazingly crafted, truly a sight to behold. He hates the way it makes him love, but loves the way it makes him feel. The passion boils over again, the eyes glaze and once more, a time for reflection.

Christmas is always something to look forward to - a holiday season of bountiful harvest, when roads are unpredictable, like the minds of drivers. Hearts slip through fingers like flighty lovers. He's stolen quite a few, and broken many more. This one is different, though. He has never known infatuation to such a degree. His conscience screams that you can't deny emotion. An alarm sounds, signalling the lunch break. She will always be a part of him...

It's funny to think of the sorts of things you feel like a breaking after a particularly harrowing encounter. Glass, china, hearts...even wind perhaps. Glarkware - product placement and shifting of guilt = amusing t-shirt.

Wednesday, October 5th, 2005

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Subject:Quizzical Homestar!
Time:12:57 pm.
Mood: awake.
Music:The Panics - My Best Mistake.
In event of emergency, scream loudly, flop around like a dead fish and stick a pretzel in your mouth. It's fun bringing back website-related memories with online tests. With a big cheesy grin to accompany!

What Homestar Runner Quote Are You Most Likely To Utter in a Crisis? by collie_wing
Favorite drink
Quote"BALEETED!"- Homestar Runner
Times you will say it in a minute135,881
Quiz created with MemeGen!

A Homestar Valentine! by jeudijoli
Your date is ...Strong Mad
Your date gives you ...a swift kick in the pants
You go to for the Yellow Dello
Quiz created with MemeGen!

Homestar Runner Alter Ego by kickyourshoe
What is your monicor?
Your HSR Alter EgoStrong Bad
Your HSR HangoutBubs' Concession Stand
Your HSR Slogan"Great JORB!"
Quiz created with MemeGen!

Where do you belong in Homestar? by when_and_where
You live in....Strongbadia
Your best friend is....Coach Z
Your enemy is....Strong Sad
Quiz created with MemeGen!

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Subject:...and what sort of word is shank anyway?
Time:12:01 am.
Mood: confused.
Music:Silverchair - After All These Years.
There comes a time in everybody's life where they must have at least 20 sugars in one drink at a time. For those who leave this milestone too long, it may come far too close to the end of their life. For those who regularly pursue this new adventure sport, though their life may be filled with sugary goodness, it may be too short a life to enjoy fully anyway. Finding a balance in this regard is much like finding balances in other areas of general day-to-day living, and for those who like to live on the wild side, perhaps some night-to-day living as well.

For instance, there is the balance between the stunningly artificial avalanche of margerine, or the churningly reliable hailstorm of butter. With one comes the added incentive of less cholesterol, but then again, who really wants to eat yellow cow excretion? I guess this could additionally follow on to the un-nerving colour of milk and its close immediate proximity to bovine undercarriage, but something that has been integrated into our lives so thoroughly takes a while to change. Some would prefer to soften the impact of a dose of straight milk by stirring brown powder into the white fluid. This in itself wouldn't be so bad if so many colours didn't automatically attract the most gutter-dwelling of thoughts when recieved by people of rude capabilities. You were all thinking it. So was I.

On an entirely unrelated tangent, the compulsion to choose in life is interesting. All actions come with consequences, but then again, these aren't quite thought of as much. The character of Action Man is marketed relentlessly to the underage male audience, but there is a substantial lack of Consequence Man lining our toy shelves. Much confusion can be derived from the murkiness of the human mind, depending on how many consequ-actions are taken. To go out on a limb in shameful mathematical regurgitation, confusion has probably a positive relationship to those...consequ-actions, depending on severity. Of course, then there's also the normal confusion heightened by the flow of images moving like a movie-reel through our already mixed up heads.

All should relate back to sugar. Where is Gloria, I want her jeans.

Thursday, September 29th, 2005

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Subject:Thoughts and their Luggage
Time:7:54 pm.
Mood: pensive.
Music:A small elf drumming inside my head.
I wish the human mind was more like a car.

Where a car can only go in one direction at a time; forwards or backwards, the mind can be pulled in so many directions that it's a surprise more people don't buy sugar in bulk just to have a sweet form of escapism nearby. Where you'd hurt somebody no matter what you chose, would it be better just to hurt yourself by choosing nothing? Of course, there is always the argument that choosing nothing is a choice in itself, but then again, if dinosaurs are really extinct, what the hell was my old music teacher? I'll leave that to ponder, while I go confuse myself with even more hypothetical nonsense.

To all, be safe, and to one, just be.

Friday, August 19th, 2005

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Subject:Two Tales of Tomatoes
Time:7:53 pm.
Mood: productive.
Music:Architecture in Helsinki - Sooner Than Soon.
Everybody in town knew the man, but nobody knew his name. He would appear at the bar every Thursday with a faint smile, money for a drink and a tomato placed delicately in front of him on an arctic white porcelain plate. Each week, the bartender watched from the corner of his eye as the man slowly sipped his drink, carefully ate the tomato as one would an apple, and walked out until the next Thursday, when exactly the same thing happened. With every week, the bartender's curiousity increased, until it grew to a point where he couldn't help but ask the man about his strange ritual. He politely enquired about the tomato, and was pleased to see a reaction.

The man slowly turned to him, flashing him another hint of that unnervingly enigmatic smile. "They're good for your health", he replied, and wouldn't say anymore, except to pay for the drink and slowly exit as usual. The next week, the man slouched in once again with smile, money and tomato, and sat in his normal seat. The bartender, unable to contain his curiousity any more, gave him a drink several times stronger than his usual. After a while, he asked the same polite question about the tomato. With his usual mysterious grin replaced by a lopsided grimace, the man spoke with the fumes of spirits never before tasted. "I loved my wife", he confessed, "but she never did get a proper burial." Confused, the bartender asked why that was the case. "Well", said the man, taking a big bite out of his tomato, "my crops have never been better."

I arrived at the house on the lake one summer years ago, and stayed ever since. The elderly couple living there were kind enough to take me in, feed me, look after me. I was even given my own bed, complete with a checked flannel blanket aromatically accentuated by the unnerving musk of old people. I didn't complain, though. Occasionally, the wife would look at me with a faint smile, and then continue whatever it was she was doing, as if to say the world was a nice place after all.

The husband only gifted me with the odd cursory glance and constant reminders not to be so loud. I was just another distraction from his passion - tomatoes. On a daily basis he would pick three ripe tomatoes from his many plants and eat them diligently with his meals. He most enjoyed himself when he was eating cereal or drinking soup. He liked tomatoes in both. He even resembled a tomato, from his plump, flushed body and neck to the thick strands of off-green hair on his head.

There was one morning where he failed to pick his three tomatoes. The wife was out buying groceries, and when I found him in the back room, it was already too late. The doctor said he had died of a heart attack. I glanced sadly at the wife's weeping face, and then walked to the backyard. I couldn't carry three at once, but one by one; I took the day's tomatoes to his still side. The last, I placed over his heart, and padded back to the wife. I buried my head in my paws, and in his memory, didn't bark for at least a few days.

There are three types of people in the world: Those who like alliteration, those who don't like alliteration and those who say Argh! Angrily Arduous and Agonizing is alliteration. All our experiences are like a giant funnel, all streaming into the one point which then goes into a paper shredder. We then pick up the bits of paper we find colourful and keep them for future recollection. Yes, the first story has offshoots of secret windows and corn cobbettes but subconsciously, it's not as if we're even aware of everything we've absorbed. Normally, such recollection only comes after the act of that subtle mind-plagiarism and really asks us: If we were meant to be gardeners, wouldn't we ALL have scissorhands?

Wednesday, August 17th, 2005

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Subject:A History in Genetic Modification
Time:10:18 pm.
Mood: creative.
Music:Architecture in Helsinki - Scissor Paper Rock.
As the sun set on the day of concentration, and gave way to the twilight of imagination, a character was born. Professor Von Linkenstratumberg, conceived on the blue and white canvas of lined paper, was as tall as a ten centimeter block of ice. They say necessity is the mother of invention. In this particular accounting lecture, however, the Professor was exposed as the illegitimate love-child of boredom and procrastination. He was given personality, idiosyncrasies and glasses, all of which a nonsensical background slowly developed around. There was a quiet quality about him, like one who had swallowed a pheasant and was too embarrassed to admit it.

A pioneer in genetic animal modification, his two favourite creations were displayed on dark, oak pedestals. The first, a cross between a swan and a meerkat had a cheerful disposition, and an amazing defense mechanism – the ability to flap around helplessly imitating a dying fish. This one he called a “Superlative Goose-Rat”. The other, named a “Char-grill”, was also comprised of two beasts. The snake part of the creature was really quite lazy, whereas the mongoose in it kept trying to kill itself. Professor Von Linkenstratumberg was never really that good at English or tactfulness, and it came as no surprise when he named his next creation, “Ignatius Hindenburg."

Of course, if it wasn't for the fact that lectures inspire such mind numbing boredom, this story wouldn't be in existence. If you think about all those times when there has been a particular stroke of inspiration, then you look back at the actual inspiration, you'd probably something extremely un-interesting, like a pile of stacked chips, or a fellow called Les who's always miserable. I'd like to thank Terry Pratchett, Skipper the Penguin and most of all Polly the Bobblehead, whose constant agreeance has always been re-assuring.

I remember a time when tickling three small children would have actually been considered acceptable and healthy.

Tuesday, April 19th, 2005

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Subject:A Day in the Life of...
Time:11:03 pm.
Mood: happy.
Music:Toshiro Masuda - The Raising Fighting Spirit.
Advanced Global Personality Test Results
Extraversion |||||||||||| 43%
Stability |||||||||||| 46%
Orderliness |||||||||||| 50%
Empathy |||||||||||||||| 63%
Interdependence |||||||||||||||| 63%
Intellectual |||||||||| 36%
Mystical |||||| 30%
Artistic |||||||||||||||||||| 90%
Religious |||||| 30%
Hedonism |||||||||||||| 56%
Materialism |||||| 30%
Narcissism |||||||||||| 50%
Adventurousness |||||||||||| 50%
Work ethic |||||| 30%
Self absorbed |||||| 23%
Conflict seeking |||||| 23%
Need to dominate |||||||||||| 43%
Romantic |||||||||||||||||||| 83%
Avoidant |||| 16%
Anti-authority |||||||||||||||| 63%
Wealth || 10%
Dependency |||||||||||| 43%
Change averse |||||||||||| 50%
Cautiousness |||||||||||||||||| 76%
Individuality |||||||||||||||||| 76%
Sexuality |||||| 23%
Peter pan complex |||||||||||||||| 70%
Physical security |||||||||||||||| 63%
Food indulgent |||||||||| 36%
Histrionic |||||||||| 36%
Paranoia |||||||||||||||| 63%
Vanity |||||||||| 36%
Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||| 56%
Female cliche |||||||||||| 43%
Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by

Stability results were medium which suggests you are moderately relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.

Orderliness results were medium which suggests you are moderately organized, hard working, and reliable while still remaining flexible, efficient, and fun.

Extraversion results were moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive.


changeable, in the middle, suspicious, somewhat traditional, dislikes chaos, down to earth, group oriented, practical... you scored in the middle on the overall factors of this test.

Friday, February 18th, 2005

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Subject:When You're Too Lazy / Tired to think...
Time:4:11 am.
Mood: tired.
Music:Little Birdy - Happy.
I'm 64% freak!!

Wednesday, February 16th, 2005

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Subject:Dig your Shins to the Beat
Time:12:21 am.
Mood: hopeful.
Music:Powderfinger - These Days.
Cardiology, Carmen Sandiego (Did anybody ever find out where in the world she was?), carpets, caretakers, carbohydrates, cartwheels and carpools all start with a C. and an ar following. So hooray for redundantly irrelevant words spelling out car. Oh to be free and mobile and independant and the like....without a license yet, but soon! Soon...

In any case, today I'd like to gripe about the cost of insurance, registration and fuel. In perhaps 3 years, one would have had to pay doubly the cost of the car in the first place in these overpriced expenses. (One being me, in this case). Anyway, red is the fastest colour, but I can't help but wonder if it would be possible to perhaps get a whole spectrum of colours happening. To run around an object (such as a car) and see a different vibrant colour at each angle would certainly be something to behold. As would a journal entry that is concise and makes sense, but we know that isn't going to happen anytime soon.

In the jolly good area of Victoria (State to be precise), and probably other equally jolly good places as well, we can drive on our own at 18. However, the very moment we are allowed that right, we are also allowed to buy drinks on our own, and none of your soda pop nonsense, I mean drinks that will ensure a good time becomes a good time you can't remember. So upon careful examination, constant spamming of the "Don't drink and Drive" ads becomes slightly more hypocritical. "Here are your keys to your first car! And here's a bottle of booze to go with it!" Of course, this is probably just a cynic's view and a totally unrealistic one at that, but since I'm almost old enough to become a statistic on our roads, I thought I'd express it in any case. Another short entry....obviously I can't multitask....breathe and update at the same time.

Fare thee well. And Safe Driving.

Saturday, February 12th, 2005

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Subject:Music with Tacks
Time:1:00 am.
Mood: disappointed.
Music:Scissor Sisters - Comfortably Numb.
There are some who move to the beat. Alternatively you can rock to some sort of nonsensical lyrical mayhem. Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with music, or rather, it has as much to do with music as pancakes have to do with horse riding (Unless you're really into that sort of thing). "Look to the sky!" my friend will shout. You will see glance upwards and swiftly be hit by a train. My friend will remark, "Should have seen the tracks", and you'll both regret it. The only tracks you should venture near are CD tracks. Never go out of your house if you are afraid of being hit by a train, for you never know where the tracks are.

If anybody happens to read that and can't understand what it means, don't worry, I don't either. Thats what happens when you type randomly, try it, you'll be surprised at what comes out. I mean I can recall there was once a time when Mr. Brown started just typing randomly...he typed whatever came out of his mind for 16 days straight until WHAM! The Da Vinci Code was made. Its beginnings are somewhere along those lines in any case. Speaking of any I won't go there, it's just too lame.

How disappointing is KFC's original recipe once you've had whatever new fangled flavour they thought up this time... I mean you just can't go back once you've had the one with DOUBLE the seasoning...its just not right..they are bland, and tasteless and feel oilier. Is crude oil the one that makes dirty jokes, or are mine just so lame they can use the disabled parking lots legally.

I remember a time when it was cool to wear overalls. Ykno..those denim ones that adoring parents force their little kids to wear. Yepp...brings back bad memories and photos that should never see the light of day. This is pretty much just a brain splurge today. Apologies for incoherence, we should be able to defragment our nice that would be. Anyhow, go back to your commercial lives! ....And bring back money...

If I was a balloon I would continuously be being let down.

Wednesday, February 9th, 2005

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Subject:Nickelplated Steel Super Bullets
Time:12:27 am.
Mood: content.
Music:Scissor Sisters - Take Your Momma.

Describe yourself using one band and song titles from that band

Created by naw5689 and taken 16443 times on bzoink!

Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band:System of a Down
Are you male or female:Plastic Jesus
Describe yourself:Roulette
How do some people feel about you:Sugar
How do you feel about yourself:Psycho
Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend:Darts
Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend:Legend of Zelda
Describe where you want to be:Forest
Describe what you want to be:Toxicity
Describe how you live:Chop Suey
Describe how you love:Suite-Pee
Share a few words of wisdomFuck the System

Create a Survey | Search Surveys | Go to bzoink!

Monday, January 31st, 2005

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Subject:Short and Sweet
Time:8:52 pm.
Mood: sad.
You Are Donnie Darko.

Which Donnie Darko Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Sunday, January 23rd, 2005

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Subject:Freedom Fighters
Time:2:52 am.
Mood: contemplative.
Music:Computer - The Humming of my.
In the event of emergency, break glass. That's something I want in my room. A glass cabinet with a wooden mallet hanging by a silver chain. Inside this cabinet will be the freedom of choice and the freedom of speech. In the event of both freedoms having corroded due to lack of use in the past, there will be an alternative cabinet which I may use. Inside this cabinet (Where a metal mallet hangs by a wooden chain, albeit not nearly as effective as vice versa), there will be the Right to remain silent, the Right to health services, the Right to accomodation and so on. And then in the unfortunate event of these objects being eaten away by termites and whatnot, there will be a final cabinet. In this cabinet will simply be written, INDEPENDENCE. Hanging from the "Independence" cabinet will be a gun with one bullet. This bullet will be made of foam, since with the high amount of taxation currently employed in this great city-state of ours, I would be unable to afford the proper version of the fatal implement.

You may be wondering how I could afford a Freedom cabinet, or even a Rights cabinet, with such a meagre supply of after tax money. Well, some questions are best left unanswered. Although, taking that philosophy into a finals exam is not the best piece of advice either.

In any case, regardless of our illusionary freedoms and independence, we still remain a relatively restrained species. Our lives are governed by rules and laws, of course the judges are looking out for us, but who is looking out for the judges? Surely, we cannot expect Robocop to come in, smash up a few things, and tell everybody not to watch his movie! I prematurely took that advice however. What Robocop has to do with this "subject" or anything on this page I haven't the foggiest, but rest assured...I'm sure you would be as confused as I am.

Since when can we demean a political leaders name in front of their face without fear of repocussion. But keep it hush hush. You never know, they may be watching and listening. Just like Santa. He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. He sounds more like a perverted Internet freak. If I had known Santa squeezed his overly large frame down chimneys when I had the mind to do something about it, I would have extorted his situation and sold the story to Jenny Craig in order for them to exploit yet another hard working individual to further their own commercially avaricious needs.

But enough of this. This whole bitter cynical tone throws a shadow on this miraculous comeback to blurting. Till next time, my llama friends and associates.

Imagine if Judge Dredd's name was actually Fred...

Blurty for Hans Liu.

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