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December 2nd, 2005

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October 28th, 2005

11:41 pm Nothing can be more surreal than watching two penguins have sex. Sure, those little guys probably do it all the time just to have an egg between their short little legs, but really, where do the boy penguins get their winkies from? And HOW, exactly, do penguins do it? The question is killing me. After watching the entirely-too-adorable little buggers traipse happily across Penguinland to find their little qirlfriends, my curiosity is a bit piqued. It's like imagining those little Ribena berries getting it on. It's just unnatural. Little fluffy cute things cannot reproduce, because I said so. But then again, little penguins are adorable. They're like little gray fluffballs. That's it, I want a penguin. The parental unit, in a fit of demented humor, told me that the penguin would immediately take a header into the parking lot 16 storeys down rather than stay here. Apparently, it had something to do with the weather. Oh, very intelligent, Dad. I swear, he is getting more insane by the day. Well then, since this entry, like all the previous ones, have no point, I shall announce my favorite show: House MD!! Applaud, everyone. I know almost everyone in my corner of the world will not know what I'm talking about, but that's too bad. Go read a couple of scripts. The man is cool. Annoying, and probably has the EQ of jumbo shrimp, but cool. Now that I am done yapping about my beloved show, I shall move on to my life. As you all very well know, I am currently working. Interning, to be politically correct. Or possibly, paper-pushing. I hate sitting in offices. First, it feels like I'm in Penguinland. Second, I just hate nine-to-five, period. I illegally surf the 'Net for House scripts whenever the mood takes me--or whenever the people have nothing for me to do--and going on in this vein is simply boring me, and I'm boring you, too, so I shall cease and desist and talk about the weather, instead. Wow. Dark. I'm even babbling online. Damn caffeine. Current Mood: confused Current Music: Emilie Simon--Frozen World

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September 7th, 2005

08:53 pm - Peanuts I have decided. My life goal has irreversibly changed to one of becoming NKF's CEO. Can you imagine? Being a lover of peanuts and almonds and hazelnuts and stuff, I have never seen a peanut that's worth 600K before. Man, can you imagine what I can do with that peanut? Man, the possibilities are endless. And then there is that fact that I can service my car for free, and fulfill my overwhelming aristocratic tendencies by worshipping the golden tap winking at me from the bathroom. Or that all-too-expensive toilet bowl. I wouldn't really want to sit on it, though. It costs more than a thousand bucks, and I can always go crap somewhere else. My butt's not all that pristine, and neither are the things that come out of it. And now that I have sufficiently grossed half of you out, I shall now change the subject. Or not. Come to think of it, since I have always abhorred sitting in economy class on planes, I can bitch for a first class ticket and make excuses for it. Hmm, that should be interesting. Can you imagine, getting served hand and foot and laughing at the sad buggers who get stuck in economy class? I wouldn't want to meet anyone who knows me there, though. Then I've got to start making more excuses and slap writs on people. Nah, too much of a hassle. Downside, though, is I might have a muddy reputation like that T.T Durex guy, and might want to start suing people right and left. And then there is that issue of a superiority complex. My own is bad enough, thank you very much. Hmm, that is definitely something to think about. I don't think he'll be worrying too much, though. Squirrel Man most probably hoarded all his peanuts at home and would be ready to live a very nutful life. Well...if he doesn't go to jail, that is. I like peanuts. I have now come to the end of my demented ramblings, and I leave you all now. Good bye. Current Mood: pleased Current Music: Elvis Presley--Are You Lonesome Tonight

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August 5th, 2005

10:39 am Birthday List: What I Wanted And Did Not Get 1. A flamethrower 2. Combat Boots. Those cool ones with little chains on them. It's hell when you run with 'em, of course 3. A lifetime supply of Diet Coke 4. A million bucks and a small island off the Caribbean 5. A chance to smack the stuffing out of the moron who sang 'Mice Loves Rice' 6. Spongebob pyjamas 7. The entire Invader Zim collection 8. Me: "Get out of my room." Brother: "Okay." 9. One of those air-guns that look like a good ol' shotgun. 10. Common sense Current Mood: indescribable

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10:23 am Here I am, ready to insert more senseless drivel into the site. Well, not exactly pointless. But since I have resolved not to be all self-pitying and mopey and like 90 percent of all the blogs out there--I am also of the thought that I would not like to share the finer details of my delinquent life to the world--I shall tell you about Freddo, the Chocolate Frog. No, Freddo is not my friend. He is the product of a lovely, demented mind. Or an underpaid Cadbury drone who somehow decided that imagines of smiling frogs would make good edibles. It's unnerving, whenever you tear open the shiny green wrapper to get at the elusive piece of chocolate, and you see a grinning frog with big eyes looking up at you. And, I realize, unlike the picture on the shiny green wrapper, Ol' Chocolate Freddo is cross-eyed and a little soggy in the midsection. So I get to eat an overweight, cross-eyed chocolate frog? Fascinating. The underpaid Cadbury drone should be booted up to CEO of Cadbury and encouraged to make more of 'em. The maternal unit had so graciously bought 4 large bags of Freddo for me during our trip to Kiwiland last year, and those frogs are still sitting in my fridge. Well, most of 'em, anyway. The Locust, ergo: my brother, has been unleashed on the unfortunate frogs, and I had to knock him unconscious in an attempt to protect my brood. Hey, no one eats my frogs. Well, since I am done with displaying my love for Chocolate Frogs to the world, I shall move on. Current Mood: mellow Current Music: The Cranberries--Dreams

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June 17th, 2005

01:15 pm - See Through See through me, For I'm nothing in your eyes. Your gaze slides over, I am dust in your path. Walk on, For I am never there. See through me, There is nothing in my eyes. Turn away, Let me reach for you. Don't look back, I will not be there. See through me, Because I'm nothing in your eyes. Current Mood: morose

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June 14th, 2005

12:22 pm Fee Fi Fo Fum. Here I am again, about to grace you people with yet another one of my rants. Apparently, I was told that the layout of this blog was 'emo' by my dear friend Xuan. Hell if I know what emo is. Anyway, that is not the point of my current entry. I have now found a job as a florist in a place where I shall not reveal, as I can hear crazed laughter in the background, which most probably means that a select few of my rabid friends might pay a visit and proceed to burn down the flower shop. Well, it's what I would've done, anyway. Glory to the wonder that is the lighter. Speaking of setting things on fire, I am currently working on a plan to burn those darned flyers that are making my life miserable right about now. For those wondering what those flyers are, it's that time of the year in school, where idiots who can't suppress the urge to go and join a student body in order to validate their otherwise meaningless existences post their mugs up for everyone to see and laugh. And mock. At. It's just so annoying when those darned pieces of paper smack into your face when you're harmlessly walking past them, minding your own business. It's like those faces have a mind of their own, or something. Hmm, or maybe I should just go on a caffeine-charged rampage and tear up everything, then deny it vehemently afterwards, like that time I practically inhaled four cold coffee cans and hailed the vending machine as a celestial being. Hmmm, that should work. Heh, speaking of working, I was accosted by a bulldog of a saleswoman who wanted to sell me beauty products. Man, I really think she needs a good smack upside the head, because she's under the impression that I'm a Malaysian. Now, nothing anyone says can faze me much, unless it's telling me that I sound like a Malaysian, which personally, I find extremely offensive. No offence to Malaysians out there, but still. I mean, lady, just because I speak Mandarin weird doesn't mean I don't belong here. What part of me LOOKS Malaysian??! Urgh. Anyway, I buggered off outta there as soon as she finished glaring at me for not buying some beauty cream stuff. What I do with my face is my problem, foo. Salespeople are crazy, I tell you. All right, now that I have fulfilled my customary blog entry requirement, I shall now leave before I get any more mortified by the fact that my blog is degenerating to be like the millions of whiny, self-pitying, faux-philosophical blogs out there. Heaven forbid I should end up being a brainless twit trying to get sympathy for how sad my life is, like all the other teenybopper, secondary school blogs out there. Inuyasha is calling my name, and I shall go. A dose of anime after a relatively lengthy entry is always the best medicine, I tell you. Until next time, Jas Current Mood: okay Current Music: Green Day--Boulevard of Broken Dreams

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March 24th, 2005

08:23 pm Your Heart is Black What Color is Your Heart? brought to you by Quizilla This is so accurate. Don't know if the next one is... Zero Which character from The Nightmare Before Christmas are you? brought to you by Quizilla Current Mood: amused Current Music: Matchbox 20

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March 4th, 2005

11:13 am - Slouching towards Bethlehem I got bored, so I made a list. About time I did another one, anyway. Things To Not Do In Church. (Sadly I did each and every one of them at one time or another in my life.) 1. Wear black nail polish. For some reason, people get really freaked out by this. Especially, you know, priests. 2. Wondering why they put the Reconciliation Room centimeters away from a large open window that looks down onto sharp gatelike spikes. (I used to think that after whatever they do during confession, if the guy is really evil and/or annoying, the priest just kind of throws the bugger out, thereby reconciling him with God. Literally. But this is just the musings of a sick mind.) 3. Doing Elvis impersonations no matter how bored you are. Or when you think no one's looking. 4. Comment on how the priest looks no different from the ancient relics he's standing next to. 5. Attempt to expound on Nietzsche's theories with people in the church. This tends to spark off an all-out verbal war, following which the offender will be permanently labelled as the Anti-Christ. 6. Doing rock-star impersonations down the aisle and pretending that the church is a stadium full of revved-up fans. Especially when the old lady in the corner looks like she's praying. Old ladies in church are surprisingly sarcastic sometimes. 7. Doing ANY KIND of impersonation, actually. They have a strangely low tolerance for people who impersonate lockjaw germs in the middle of communion. 8. Try to flirt with the altar boys. (Sadly I did not do this. Preps offend me.) And yes, I have gotten through yet another pointless entry, but oh well. Current Mood: good Current Music: Three Doors Down--Loser

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February 25th, 2005

09:58 am Eurgh. Here I was, surfing the 'Net and happily searching for bumper stickers to put onto my laptop and therefore offend everyone who sees it when I got directed to a blog site. The writer is so disgustingly engrossed in the puny insignificant details of seeing her favourite idol dude (e.g. ZAIZAI I LOVE YOU!!!) and went on an entirely sickening vein on how she stalked him, how much the freaking cab fare cost, and which hotel he stayed in and how hot he was, and how she stalked him again and went off giggling with her teenybopper friends and bought some kind of outfit for 20 bucks--did we really need to know the PRICE?? Being the masochist that I am, I managed to finish reading the first entry before I had to lie down and breathe shallowly for half an hour. My God. And from the looks and hints of it, she's NINETEEN. Nineteen and she's still behaving like a smitten twelve year-old? I think I'm going to need intensive therapy for this. Hello, the guy happens to be someone I like too, but you don't see me getting all squealy and obsessive and stalkery. I've got more important things to care about, like when the parental unit is going to stop harassing me about why I keep wearing and/or accessorizing with black. Oh well. I'm telling you, most taiwanese-idol-show obsessed X-chromosomes in Singapore are two fries short of a Happy Meal. Or otherwise they are sadly deprived in the life department. Whoever actually queues for ELEVEN days waiting for some boyband to appear? I can't stand being in the queue for 11 minutes, much less, you know, eleven days, which is a grand total of 264 hours. D'you know how many people I can annoy and/or offend in 264 hours?? Actually, I don't know either, but I suppose it's going to be helluva lot of people. Right. Now that I have said my piece and sufficiently wasted everyone's time with yet another pointless, peeved rant, I shall go back to Rainbow Bob and mortifying my teacher with entirely-too-gothic reflections. Bye. Current Mood: grumpy Current Music: Switchfoot--Gone

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February 23rd, 2005

05:55 pm I hate buses. Really. And I swear that there is at least someone up there in charge of the bus thingies who hate me, or something, because every SINGLE DARNED time I want to take a bus I end up waiting for half an hour for it. If I don't want that particular bus number to come up and waiting for another instead, three or four of that particular bus number rolls by just to spite me. I'm telling you, it's a freaking conspiracy. So here I am, busy scribbling into my little notebook and looking up occasionally through the swirls of cigarette smoke to see if my bus is here so I can bugger off home and make life difficult for my goldfish. Okay, I lie. I have no goldfish, on account of them being kind of dead after my father forgot to turn on the pump for a couple of days. I'm telling you, those kinds of fishes are wimps. They die without a PUMP?! What are fish for, then? I'm sure God didn't install industrial size pumps in the sea or something. Wait, where do goldfishes come from? They definitely do not come from any kind of ocean or sea, and I've never really seen them in the rivers...so where do they come from? It's not like they just pop up like daisies in a random aquarium or something. Great, now I'm going to be stuck with these crazy thoughts all day, as if I've got nothing better to do. And DAMMIT WHERE'S MY BUS. Let's see, I've been sitting here for fifteen minutes, and it's killing me. Me being the kind of person who gets fidgety when she has nothing to do except to stare at nothing and whistles tonelessly until someone smacks me around or tells me to shut the hell up. After which I will proceed to deliver the smackdown on the unfortunate sod who dared to disturb my moments of relaxation. You know that there is no point to this blog entry, do you? Damn cigarette smoke, they're getting on my nerves. Why the hell are they smoking at the bus stops? Can't they just smoke in the toilet? That's what they're for, aren't they? There are a couple of girls smoking, too, and in arse's name that is the single most repulsive thing I have ever seen. And I have seen many repulsive things in my life, like William Hung. There's just something about smoker girls that annoy me to no end. I mean, hello? You think it's cool to have a cigarette dangling from your lips? Or getting piss-drunk and vomiting your colon out at pubs? What in the name of pantyhose are you thinking?! Just because guys can do that doesn't mean girls can. Warped sense of gender equality much?? Morons. I am surrounded by total morons. Oh well. Now that I've lost interest in this entry, I shall go back to staring ahead like a mindless zombie and glare at anyone who--Ooh, there's my friend. Current Mood: pissed off Current Music: Lacuna Coil--Veins of Glass

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January 12th, 2005

10:26 am I lied. I got so bored I did every quiz thingy I could lay my hands--or mouse on. So sue me. You can do those quiz thingies if you like. They kill time like nobody's business. What Anime Emoticon Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. What Personality Do You Have? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. Who Is Your Inuyasha Mystery Date? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. What Anime Rose Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. Personal disclaimer: I did not expect THIS to come out. Who's Your Anime Boyfriend? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. What Anime Vampire Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. What Anime Stereotype Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. What Shoujo Mascot Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. Which Naruto Character are You? quiz by orangeday.net What Anime Legend Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. Oh, God. Sarcastic FF X character selector Take the Spirit Quiz and visit Castle Diqueria. What Saiyuki Bishounen Are You? Hosted by theOtaku.com: Anime. Done right. Current Mood: contemplative

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10:14 am - Quiz This is just unnerving. I am never doing another quiz again. This isn't even ACCURATE! Oh well. Current Mood: confused Current Music: Cake--random song I forgot the title of.

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January 10th, 2005

12:55 pm - Poll. Which Saiyuki weapon would you fight with?? This just shows how bored I am. Even with a deadline for a project report in less than four hours. Current Mood: bored Current Music: Random Library music

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January 3rd, 2005

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December 17th, 2004

01:10 pm - Season's Greetings Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas!! Or happy 25th December, for the godless heathens that are currently reading this entry. As a measly Christmas present, I shall now engage in a full-fledged entry instead of posting strange French songs just to appease the people who KEEP telling me to update. I have just learnt--AGAIN--that not the entire world endeavors to ignore this little spot on the 'Net, and it has filled me with a warm and entirely fuzzy feeling. I don't know how long it's gonna last, though; updates happen only once in a blue moon or something. Well! This is the time of the year where I am happily sedated due to the saturation of annoyingly joyous Christmas songs and little jingling bells, so I guess there won't be a rage-filled rant in this entry. But then again, that was what I said a couple of entries ago, and William Hung got flamed like a hotdog with kerosene. I am annoyingly mercurial sometimes. Well, aside from the best wishes and peace love and joy crap, I would like to state, for the record, that if I am one day able, I shall migrate to Kiwiland. (Ergo: New Zealand) Even though I froze my butt off in that place less than a month ago, it is a place I have definitely fallen in love with. The people are pleasant, the movies on the move channels are amazing--no, not porn, all you disgusting people out there--and it's just a bunch of miles away from Penguinland, Antarctica. I guess that's pretty much why I froze my tail out there, even though it was supposed to be summer and all. And it didn't help that I brought clothes that were meant for the way-too-sunny beaches of Hawaii. I foresee that if I continued on this vein, I would have yet another rant-filled entry, so I shall cease and desist and move on to happier things. It's Christmas after all. And speaking of Christmas, I am still mighty pissed at the fact that we actually DO NOT have Christmas holidays!! What's even worse: Christmas on a Saturday. Okay, I know that Christmas is about the birth of Christ and all that, but I am a shallow, superricial prat and more concerned that it is a day where I won't have to go to school and even GET presents while I'm at it. I would really prefer it if Christmas Eve fell on a Monday. Imagine, a long weekend!! Already I am having happy thoughts. Well, no cloud is without it's silver lining. At least I'm spending Christmas is Singapore!! I spent last Christmas in a dark plane to Amsterdam last year, and the year before last was spent in some obscure corner of the world I have already forgotten about. I know that some of you are wondering what I've got to complain about, but remember, the grass is always greener on the other side, and I hate spending Christmas without friends! Okay, I think I'm done for now, and I really have to get back to my letter-writing. Will update soon. (Or not. Actually, it depends.) Well, Merry Christmas, everyone! Including all those godless heathens out there! Current Mood: jubilant Current Music: South Park--Oh Holy Night

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October 7th, 2004

07:15 pm - Habanera Quand je vous aimerai? Ma foi, je ne sais pas, Peut-être jamais, peut-être demain. Mais pas aujourd'hui, c'est certain. L'amour est un oiseau rebelle Que nul ne peut apprivoiser, Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle, S'il lui convient de refuser. Rien n'y fait, menace ou prière, L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait; Et c'est l'autre que je préfère Il n'a rien dit; mais il me plaît. L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour est enfant de Bohême, Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Si tu ne m'aime pas, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! Mais, si je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Si tu ne m'aime pas, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! Mais, si je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre Battit de l'aile et s'envola; L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre; Tu ne l'attend plus, il est là! Tout autour de toi vite, vite, Il vient, s'en va, puis il revient! Tu crois le tenir, il t'évite; Tu crois l'éviter, il te tient! L'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour! L'amour est enfant de Bohême, Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Si tu ne m'aime pas, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! Mais, si je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Si tu ne m'aime pas, Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! Mais, si je t'aime, Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! Translation: When will I love you? Good lord, I don't know, Maybe never, maybe tomorrow. But not today, that's certain. Love is a rebellious bird That nothing can tame, And it is simply in vain to call it If it is convient for it to refuse. Nothing will work, threat or pleading, One speaks, the other stays quiet; And it's the other that I prefer He said nothing; but he pleases me. Love! Love! Love! Love! Love is the child of the Bohemian, It has never, never known any law, If you don't love me, I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! If you don't love me, If you don't love me, I love you! But, if I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! If you don't love me, If you don't love me, I love you! But, if I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! The bird you thought to surprise Bat its wing and flew away; Love is far away, you can wait for it; If you wait for it no more, it is there! All around you, quickly, quickly, It comes, goes, then it comes back! You think to hold it, it avoids you; You think to avoid it, it holds you! Love, love, love, love! Love is the child of the Bohemian, It has never, never known any law, If you don't love me, I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! If you don't love me, I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! If you don't love me, If you don't love me, I love you! But, if I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! If you don't love me, If you don't love me, I love you! But, if I love you, If I love you, keep guard of yourself! Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Weird Al Yankovic--Constipated

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September 21st, 2004

08:55 pm - List! Title says it all, don't you think? After I'm done annoying people with William Hung, I just found a way to further annoy myself. Writing down a list of things that annoy me and relive the experience, thereby getting irritated all over again. Most Annoying Comment: "Middle-Earth is saved by FAGGOTS." Most Annoying LOTR Moment: Finding out above statement is actually true. Most Annoying Song: "I'm still in LUUUURVE with you-oouu' Sean Paul and some other crap singer with a major pitching problem. Most Annoying Female Singer/s: Tata Young, Britney Spears (Will add to the list when I find more of 'em) Most Annoying Band: Lighthouse Family (They really should be thrown out to sea or something. Preferably in places infested with mutated sharks) Most Annoying Male Singer: Definitely Sean Paul. He should join Lighthouse Family. Most annoying Teacher I've ever had: The Peckster. Unfortunate old dude with more gel on his head than actual hair, and just kinda squints and blinks and flings his head all at the same time. Secondary School. Most Annoying Song Xuan's Made Up: "Peanutbutterandjelly, peanutbutterandjelly..." And it just goes on. Most Annoying Person I've Ever Met: The woman on the twentieth floor who makes it one of her life goals to tell me everything that goes on in the block. Everyday. And also = Most Annoying Movie: Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Most Annoying Game Tune: That stupid Tetris tune. It eats slowly at your brain cells and liquifies them and make them dribble out of your ears. Most Annoying Words Used In Writing: IRC Language. It pisses the hell out of me and makes me want kill something. Preferably the damned perpetrator. Most Annoying Colour: It makes my eyes and head hurt and sets me off on a murderous rampage. Most Annoying Bunch of People: Avril Lavigne wannabes. Japanese wannabes. Most Annoying Poet: Ogden Nash Most Annoying Cartoon: Doraemon Most Annoying Show: Barney, Hi-Five Most Annoying Phrase: "Talk to the hand." Most Annoying Person I've Ever Seen On TV: That banana guy. Most Annoying thing I've ever done: Made this list. Current Mood: annoyed Current Music: Stacy's Mom

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08:00 pm - Update All right. Since I have nothing better to do and loads of time to kill, I might as well update this blog to shut some people up, cause they've been bugging me to update it as of late *coughxuancough*. Nothing much happened in my life that's worth mentioning, though, and I'm pretty much rage-free at the moment, so no chance of this current update being a ranting issue. Oh wait, there are loads of things happening, actually, now that I think about it. I'm gonna be writing for Law's online website, www.legalblues.co.nr! And if that isn't spiffingly enthralling enough, we've got the Christmas party thingy in school planned! Oh, and I just realized that I've got a good-sized rant buried somewhere deep in my cranium, which means that this entry is most likely going to be rage-filled, too. So let's get on with it, then, before my rage goes away and I'm left talking rubbish. And the subject of the day is: William Hung. Dear Moses on a tricycle I hate that name. Don't get me wrong, after the first few utterly painful minutes of watching his first American Idol "She Bangs" clip, and after seriously wondering if Kay--person who sent me the clip--had a raging animosity against me I was better off NOT knowing, I began to appreciate his dorkiness and bravery. He's got guts, I would admit. But then the whole uproar about him came into play. The people all treated him as if he was the second coming or something. But I could deal with that. He deserved the praise. Well, not for the singing, but his guts. But sadly the praises did not stop there, and I was left with the niggling little feeling that he was being mocked. First the episode on Idol Rejects, then another on the 'She Bangs' video, which, quite frankly, sucked to high heavens. But then again, such is the fickleness of showbiz. Only now instead of elevating people with looks but absolutely zero talent to godlike status, they are now elevating people with ZERO looks and ZERO talent. I have no problem with that, either. Okay, that was a lie. I'm a fascist prat, but that's another rant altogether. The point is that I've got a big problem with HIM. Why the hell is he acting like the world owes him, or like he's a big star?? Saw the cover of a magazine that totally blew me away. "I am the real American Idol!" it says. It's no wonder, with all the praises stuck in that fat head of his, that he can barely keep a single note now. Hmm, maybe I should send in a rousing off-key rendition of 999 Bottles of Beer On The Wall, send it to William Hung's company, and sue their blind asses off if I don't get famous. There but for the grace of being a novelty, W.H.. Remember that. We might be celebrating your bravery, but we sure as hell are not celebrating your nonexistent talent. There, now that I've completely exhausted my anal-retentive tendencies, feel free to flame me and try to glorify William Hung. But take notice that I, as usual, will be using the flames to cook marshmallows. Marshmallows are nummy. Current Mood: aggravated

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September 1st, 2004

08:02 pm - Playground Livid splashes of red and yellow, Bright colours hiding a tainted world, A child's playground, a child's home. A sweet young boy joins the fold. Dark of skin, bright of eye, "Get away!" The children cry. The boy starts, his smile wears thin, "Let me play, why can't I?" "You're white as coal, you're not like us! You're the monster, our mothers told us!" "I am a boy!" he loudly cries, This cheerful place, it's ugly grace "I'm not like you, so fair of face! But let me in, I'll show you games. I'll teach you to play, to fly, to sing!" "The door is closed, forever will be How can we accept anyone not like me?" From the mouths of babes, the dreadful truth, Cruel angels softly sing, "Get away, you can't come in!" The colors are stripped, the boy sees truth, An ugly heaven, the lies of youth. Step away, child, from the truth of life. They fears beings not like them or I. He looks to me, tears in his eyes, I shake my head, a quiet sigh, The ghastly truth, the fact of life We fear beings not like you or I. Current Mood: apathetic

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