Friday, July 21, 2006

Why do bloggers blog?

Hmm. Why do I only update my blog when I have finals to study for?

Is this a widespread phenomenon? Or am I the only one afflicted? Why do you blog? Is it an attempt at procrastination? Or are you just an exhibitionist? Or is it both?

Does anyone know?

Hadschi Halef Omar



Sie zogen durch das wilde Kurdistan,
zwei, die dem Tod schon oft ins Auge sah'n.
Sie ritten Seite an Seite, waren Freunde für's Leben.
Hadschi hieß der kleine Mann, sein Herr war Kara Ben Nemsi.
Sein Turban, der war viel zu groß für ihn,
sein Pferd sah aus, als könnte es kaum noch geh'n.
Doch wenn er kämpfte, ist allen schnell das Lachen vergangen.
Denn er war ein Mann, ein Mann, ein Mann!

Hah hah hah, Hadschi Halef Omar,
Hah hah hah, Hadschi Halef Omar Ben,
Hah hah hah, Hadschi Halef Omar Ben,
Hadschi Dawud al Gossarah, ah hah,
Hah hah hah hah hah hah.

Hadschi Halef Omar Ben,
Hadschi Abul Abbas-ibn,
Hadschi Dawud al Gossarah, ah hah
Ah hah.

My plants are better behaved than your brats.

I'm responsible for two life-forms. They aren't dead yet, ergo, I'm a good parent. My life forms are a chilli plant and a pepper plant. They're cute and cuddly and I buy them chew toys, little dolls and toy trucks. I don't want to perpetuate sexist or speciesist social conditioning, hence the dolls AND trucks AND chew toys.

Parenting is EASY. Don't be fooled by parents (of humans) who will tell you otherwise.

Dogs are easier to care for than plants. They wag their tails in your face and drool at your lunch so often that it's impossible to forget to feed them.

Kids are easier still. They just cry and wail when they want something. All humans instinctively protect tiny little humans with big eyes and big faces. If we didn't feel this need to protect them, we'd never let them survive to adulthood.

Because despite genetic programming and the parenting instinct (and it's an instinct, just like the rape instinct and the murdering instinct), kids can be REALLY annoying. If you've ever watched MTV's Sweet Sixteen, you'll know what I'm talking about. G, I know you're with me on this one. The little bitch couldn't tell a BMW 330xi from a 330i. Neither can I, but no one ever gave ME one on MY sixteenth birthday.

So to summarize, it works like this:- the higher the life-form, the more capable it is of taking care of its own survival. And the closer the DNA match, the more likely it is that you'll develop one of those oxytocin based bonds.

So don't let people give you the old self-righteous spiel on how noble it is to be a parent. The annoying fly you just swatted an hour ago was a GREAT mom to her bonny buzzy baby fly. Maybe she was going to bake it a birthday cake to celebrate the fact that it survived a full hour. But we'll never know, becaue you went and killed this noble parent.

But wait, that sounded completely absurd! Because we all know that there's nothing noble about being a fly! Flies are pests. Whether they're parents or not.

And if you REALLY think about it, humans are pests too.

My plant didn't complain when I ate its first born, a healthy green chilli. Now THAT's what I call noble.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

The interpretation of dreams.

I have a theory about dreams.

You never dream about something you've been thinking about a whole lot. You dream about images or ideas your mind's been toying with briefly. An idea that doesn't quite feature in your mainstream thoughts gets the attention it deserves in a dream.

I know someone who will claim that this is his idea and not mine. Well, he's lying. Anyway, I blogged about it first.

Edit: I'm (mentally) filing this under 'Theories shot to hell'. I thought about beating up my roommate all day, and then beat her up in my dream that night.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

My favourite pair of shoes.


Me
Originally uploaded by thousand.words.



I just love those shoes.

Edit: Picture credits to G, a.k.a. 'the ex'.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Ooh, look at me, I'm so smart! I have an opinion on everything!

Balls. I don't.

However, some people do. And they proudly proclaim it on their blogs.

These are some actual examples of retarded opinions. I kid you not.

So what's your opinion on global warming?
It, like, TOTALLY sucks!
Who do you think should win this Switzerland-Korea match?
Switzerland, because it's beautiful.

I, for one, have had it with opinions like that. Here's something to keep you busy if you're bored. Put an end to this whole opinion bullshit. The world is what it is regardless of your stupid opinion. Nobody REALLY cares what you think. So the next time you encounter the word 'or' in a sentence, just ignore it. Unless it's a waiter at a restaurant, or someone asking you if you're paying with a credit or debit card. Some examples for the more dim-witted among you, to help solidify the concept.

Roe or Wade? (Unacceptable question, begs an opinion. Don't let the opinion-wanting bastards win!)
Wade if the water's shallow enough. Roe if you've got a boat. Hah!
Feminism or Ann Coulter? (Same as above)
I don't care, I'm hungry.
Top of the food chain or vegan? (Same as above)
Fuck off. Seriously.
Beer or Bloody Mary? (This one's perfectly legit.)
Bloody Mary.

The bitch isn't warm-blooded.

So what exactly IS room temperature? Between 20 C and 25 C, most people would say. That's how most science books define room temperature. Then WHY is the temperature in MY fucking apartment 18 C?

It's because my roommate is a bitch. And clearly, she knows squat about science.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Desperately seeking someone!

Yes, all you hot men out there with castles and titles and billions in the bank. I'm single! Grab me (figuratively, of course. um, maybe not ENTIRELY figuratively..) while you still can!

I'm hot, mostly harmless, slightly shallow, and have a three digit IQ(!).

I'm open to minor royalty. I might deign to date a viscount, but even I, bonafide egalitarian, supporter of the underdog, sympathizer of the masses; draw the line at barons. Unless they have EXCEPTIONALLY hot abs.

Prince Carl Philip, are you listening?

Hot shorty in blogland!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I have arrived.