Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I really had to write that down. *laughs manically*
Noh, noh. Don't worry. It's not me. O_o
It's today's SUPAHSTARS.
Apparently, if you say that something has been done AESTHETICALLY then it's okay.
But what does "aesthetically" mean, anyway?
Like hell if I know. >.<
Probably just some excuse for directors and actors to say that playing basketball in slow motion in a barely-there-bikini is actually RELEVANT to the script.
Because, of course. Without the basketball playing, barely-there-bikini clad girl, the entire script will collapse.
No, really. It's CRUCIAL to the script. WTH.
The entire acting industry relies on barely-there-bikinis now.
But it's not like I'm saying it's morally wrong God will punish people wearing revealing outfits.
I'm just saying there has to be a REASON.
Why introduce a barely-there-bikini clad girl after the hero wins a cricket match?
Or when he's been kicked out of his family?
You say well we go to movies to escape day to day monotony. why watch something realistic?
I say that there is realistic cinema and fantastical cinema. It's either the plight of poverty, or ninjas wearing lungis.
But there is also genre where movies can incorporate both. You know the sort. A bit of everything. 'Tis fun, for shure.
However, I don't see how a barely-there-bikini clad girl can jump out of a truck and start singing.
Conclusion- This post has absolutely no point to it. But it feels good to get back at at the how lame stupid no sense want to die movies I am forced to see by family members.
That is being the end. Ok, ok. :)
Friday, September 25, 2009
They're sneaky little devils, I say, with their swishy tails and their oh-so-innocent meows.
I mean, honestly. What is UP with all the fur-licking?
Sure, sure. To clean their fur, you say, that's what Miss told me.
Yeah, well if Miss told you that fairies didn't exist, you'd actually BELIEVE it? :(
They're hiding nanobots in their fur, them cats. That's what's happening. And when they lick their fur, they scoop it up into a nice hairball and spit it at you so that you die of a nanobot invasion that halts your nervous system.
There's this one cat in particular. It's an EVIL-ER cat than any other.
It STALKS me.
It sneaks into the garage at night, says the watchman. And it leaves at around 7:30 in te morning, IRONICALLY around the same time I leave for Slave Academy.
What if it comes into my room at night and chokes me with its evil cat claws? I don't want to die by cat. Natural deaths and bomb explosions are okay. But not death by cat.
Is there no one that can save me from this ferocious feline?
Anyone except Superman and Batman, coz they wear their underwear on the outside. NASTY.
Evil cat. With its evil stare.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I don't want rotten tomatoes thrown at me.
Rotten tom-ah-toes are also not okay.
But, you see? The layout has changed. Again.
AND IT WILL CONSTANTLY CHANGE UNTIL SOMEONE HELPS ME OUT.
Why? Because no one is kind enough to help me out. >.>
Somebody. Anybody. Please help this poor soul.
Coz the red looked gawdy. You're right, whoever you are. It hurt my eyes too.
Conclusion- PLEASE HELP.
Okie that's it. :)
*Warning- Rant post ahead*
Your hair is gone.
What?! I’m turning bald?!
No. I mean… you cut it.
Oh. Yeah. So?
But it was so thick and lustrous!
Okie, you’re creeping me out now.
You don’t look like yourself.
WELL GOD FORBID I START TO LOOK LIKE YOU, LOSER.
Did cutting my hair suddenly become an immortal sin?
It's hair, morons. It'll grow back. What, did I cut my wrists? Or YOUR hair?!
But NOH you don't get it.
Cutting off my hair is not a PAGAN PRACTICE.
And, The Auntie Federation of The World- cutting my hair will NOT affect my eligibility to get married.
I'M A TEENAGER. HAIR AND HUSBANDS ARE THE LAST THINGS ON MIND.
In that order, yesh.
And it's so sad when I Barbie asked me "Didn't you like, cry, when you like saw your hair fall slowly to the ground, when you were like in the salon? Like, CRY?"
Oh, lyk YAH, Barbie. I was weeping so hard, I also tried stabbing the stylist with a pair of scissors.
HARDY HAR HAR.
Friday, September 18, 2009
A white hot flame that is
The work of the Devil.
Yes. It is hunger.
Images of food pass through my eyes
Like as if I near my end.
Is that so far from the truth?
I lust after John F Kennedy, with his
Bold claim- "I am a jelly doughnut."
NO THIS AIN'T CANNIBALISM, FOO'.
Pasta marinera, fish & chips,
These trivial things prickle through my mind
Like guilt for a crime worse than death.
Why, that sandwich across the room,
Nestled safely in the loving hands of another call out to me-
"Eat me" croons the Nutella, "EAT ME."
I can now feel the acid burning my stomach lining.
"FEED ME" coaxes my stomach, as I wonder why in God's name
I'm making conversation with my digestive system.
Suddenly, the girl with the sandwich extends her arm
And says those marvellous words-
"Would you like a piece?"
The Nutella has won. So has my stomach.
I willingly raise my white flag in surrender.
"Yes, thanks. I would like some."