How good was Kablam?

Kablam was as good as, if not better than Kablam.

Bob went out of his way to ruin Prometheus' work.
Donna: You weren't even that good in Charmed.

Brenda: ...

Having difficulties achieving ideal hair volume

You just wait. I'll get you.

This is seriously my favourite part of the movie.
And that's not to say the rest of the movie is utter crap (even though it is). I mean, I like this movie (in theory) so much, I feel obligated to re-do the crap parts, fix the writing and characterization floors, and create what could ultimately be the best movie known to man.
Actually, when I watch this movie (like the 15 year old girl from the year 1998 I am) I just fast forward through the scenes I don't like, and pretend they're not part of the movie.
But, THIS! This 2.5 seconds of a spandex clad dwarf making chocking noises is my 'to die for' moment.


Facebook fight! Kitten fight!

This is how it started. A status update, angry over a suggestion. And something 'technical' and 'professional' sounding about telescopes and radars.
It was followed by several other pointless comments, which I have left out. Until, this comment:

Isn't that cute? I'm a "hipster prick" raggin' on rational thinking because I am mocking someone's belief. Isn't belief and fact kinda completely and totally different?
I'm not even questioning this little boy's belief. I'm mocking it.
But then, I'm also mocking clean drinking water. Because the rational thinking that put man on the moon, gave me clean drinking water. Thank you NASA! And NASA also gave me the internet, with which I litter my opinion. Thank you rationality, thank you NASA! Also, it's because of the moon landing that the feudal system was abolished, and I no longer have to toil in the fields all day. NASA, is there anything you can't do?
Because I have no strong opinion on the moon landing, an event I was not around to witness (much like the resurrection of Christ), I am an ungrateful shit. Really makes me think. It really does.

Then he mailed me this. Then he deleted me from his friends list.



All I do these days is blog facebook posts

Class has started. I have this excellent seat near the window. And on a clear day baby, you can see tomorrow. Can't wait for the weekend. Weekend! Weekend! Weekend! And then, class again on Monday! Whoo! (Note: Complete lack of sarcasm. Seriously. None. What is this?)

Go for it!


What I imagine girls talk about when I'm not around

Brenda: What was I gonna say?

Red head: I don't know.

Red head: Was it about your period?

Brenda: I can't... I can't remember.

Brenda: Was it about my period?

Red head: I don't know. Was it?

Brenda: I think so.

Brenda: Yeah. So I'm having my period the other day...


All good questions

I've heard there's this restaurant in Tokyo where the floor is a mirror and the waitresses don't wear underwear. So why waste your time worshipping Jesus?
Now that I'm 21 I can understand the feelings I had for Kimberley when I was just a boy. It wasn't just sexual. But, it was at the same time. Kimberley and I are soul mates!
Toothpaste for Dinner
Brenda: C'mon Donna! You want a piece of me!?

Donna: Uhh...

Brenda: I'm Miss American Dreams since I was 17. Don't matter if I step on the scene or slink away to the Philippines, they still gonna put pictures of my derriere in th-

Brenda: Hey, wait!


A segment of email from a friend, generally berating me

"I have made the Le Best status update of facebook tonight. Beat it. But you can't because your greasy wog hands will slip and slide all over the key board trying ever so hard to make sense of your pathetic Japanese life in a series of blog posts about people I do not care about and therefore do not like."

She's right of course. Not about her facebook update. But the rest of it.


Somehow my life is breaking down. It started within the past 2 days, when I opened my inbox and was welcomed with 2 new emails. 2! It wounded my sense of pride. Wounded it deeply. Never, have I had so few emails. (Complete lies. I have.)
And for 2 whole days I flitted between life and death. No facebook updates, no emails, the blogs I regularly check remained un-updated.
Then, about an hour ago, I was greeted with 15 new emails. I felt a sudden surge of joy. Euphoria, to be exact. My heart, completely unprepared for emotions of that volume, still physically hurts from the shock.
And now I am left with a million things to reply to. 15, to be exact. 15 replies I must write; I must spell check; I must edit and re-edit; I must jazz up with pictures, or visual cues that may make it more sexually appealing.

And then it turns out I can't even spell "heroin" correctly. Which I'm fine with.


"Why does it bug me when people list that they like Bob Dylan on Myspace/Facebook/Whatevs?

Everyone likes Bob Dylan. Stop it. "

- Caragh

You pretentious colours