Sunday, 18 November 2007

The breach? meh

Hi guys, hows it going? kids still good? thats great.

Pleasantries have never been my strong point. Cut me some slack, huh? man, I said hello...

It is apparent that everyone is working their fingers to the bone at their decided projects, giving it their all in subjects they hope will get them into university, which, in turn will devise their entire future, completly dictating their lives in terms of income, family prospects and future relations with just about everything.

Daunting, would be my word of choice.

Regardless of my slacking nature, I have resolved to follow the same trend as everyone else, whist not working to the bone, I am certainly working to at least the cartilage. Now that stuff is tough. The work ethic has been obviously stopped at every step of the way, with distractions of driving, the internet, and just plain laziness. Even what im writing now is a complete distraction. Its unnecessary, well, more ununnecessary, given its possible application to my future.

I kinda think of myself as a fan service guy. I dont want to remind everyone of their work by saying "oh holy balls, works in tommorow, lol nothing" and stuff like that, so instead I am writing an extended essay in which the said excalmation of worry is gently implied.

Now if youre not worried now, you're clearly an inhuman monster.

Or not. Sorry. May my apolgy mean i never did it. and of course saying i never said anything, means that none of this ever happened. Look guys, Its hate week this week, and I increased the chocolate ration to 20 grams a week! Throw me a bone!

Sunday, 4 November 2007

World War 'Works

Apologies for the wheadon-esque header, I needed alliteration, but the introduction of "fire" stopped me. Thats actually how most of the failures in my life have come about, (Thats right Luke, shift the blame). The decending holiday of fireworks day hails us thusly, bringing us light and deafness all through the night. It so happens that the exposions are happening days before theyre supposed to, but one cannot refuse the largest human desire. That of explosives. Love has a new rival, and it is partially constucted from both paper and gunpowder.

As I write, the booms break my spirit. like a lowly grunt, i start to become shellshocked. i sometimes black out from fear, only to have horrible appirations spawing from the darkest corners of my mind, causing me to wake up with blood curdling screams on my lips.

All im saying is, For the love of God! People! choose a field other than the one next to my house to set off your boom rockets!.


anyhoo, im guessing everyones out watching the perpetual 4 months of fireworks, so have fun, and try not to set them off drunk. or, get so drunk, that it doesnt matter!

Thats the English way!