The Fightin' Irish

Although not specifically about the Irish populace, of which I have the horrible, horrible honor of being decended, I feel I must relate occurances that have happened to me, because, well, I guess both you and I have nothing better to do.



Try and deny it, but you're readin'.



I never knew that a certain joke was such a devastating reality, in the respect that it could shatter worlds like glass, and puncture dreams like tyres. Tyres being punctured. Not tyres puncturing things.



You got it.



A common joke is often:

"Guffaw, Star Trek is so sought after by nerds its practically a religion"

The reality is, It is a goddam religion.

At least, in the sense that the nerds defend as such.

When someone starts waving knowledge about vulcan mating rituals in your face, you know you have to get out of there as fast as you fossibly can, because that Star Trek motherfucker will destroy your soul, and erase any useful information you had in your brain, and replace it with pure Spock.



I know people are going to say "But Luke, you like Star Trek", and its true, to the degree that I will watch it, and enjoy it in a way that I will sit back and think "that was an programme with good things".

However, I am not devoted to the point that I believe that fans need their own goddam food.



That would be the stupidest suggestion.



My typical reaction is to avoid such people, but lest the situation be unavoidable, I will be forced to take action. No more will a Star Trek enthusiast destroy me on an internet forum. Especially since Its the only forum I take place on, (I think they are stupid) and im using to apparently "make friends" (Its that univesity one).



My blood boils. And not for the usual reasons. Because I stopped eating red meat and full fat cream as a meal.



I stopped hardcore.



-Peace-

He got joo joo eyeballs?

A break from Standard

Its come to my attention that I dislike something.

And, more often than not, when this fatal occurance happens, I am cast away like a piece of pesky litter that has been bothering the caster somewhat for what seems like weeks, but may be days.

The dislike has spurned me to break my promised hiatus to let everyone know, and possibly hate me for it. I dont mind. The haters are probably just angry people.

Angry, maleficant people. My hatred for a certain time of year, or even period of time is about to become what is known in "the business" as "public knowledge".

This shit just got mainstream.



I have a great amount of hate for the space of time known as "study leave".



There you go, I said it! I got it out there! Im insane and theres nothing you can do!

But I have to think, as is my way, that the vitriol I hold towards study leave is born of my own personal vices. This being my incredible talent for doing no work, and still feeling justified.

This is greatly provoked by the other talent i possess, which remains entrapped in my personality despite the recent appearance of brain-chemistry altering items, which is the incredible skill to promise myself a day of work, then continue to promise myself, even though the day is rapidly dissapearing.



I think that the only reason I do not work during this time is because of a lack of deadlines. I work to times allocated to work. I work when working time is designated, not just sprayed around like too much orange juice, and the result being a burden, in respect of cleaning the orange juice away, because its sticky, and hard to lift. Like many citrus fruits.



Im really thirsty.



This problem I have is probably rooted in all of the others, and I think im really wrong. Im aware that today is a bank holiday, and that it is half term this week, so I shouldnt be complainin', but im still angry at a hypothetical situation.



Its stuff like this, isnt it?
Its stuff like this thats making me not work.



Well, you're...just...hm.



Im...
...Im gonna get back to work.



-Peace-

'Cos you'll only end up picking up nickels and dimes.