Chubbs, Flints and Razzers

Answer this question. A woman goes to her mother's funeral and meets the man of her dreams. Unfortunately she doesn't get his number or anything so she can't contact him at all. A few days later she killed her sister. Why?
Your answer may reveal a lot about you.

Another question. If a LAZER pointer is a continuous beam of light, why can you draw a line with it? Does your hand move faster than the speed of light? Why is it?

Books: How to Talk More Gooder Fastly (the Redneck Dictionary III), Attack of the Unsinkable Rubber Ducks, The Android's Dream, and One Big Damn Puzzler.

DVDs: Um... 300, Speed, Starsky and Hutch, Snakes on a Plane, The X-files (seasons 1 and 2), Ping-Pong, Die Hard (1 through 3), The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert... I forget. That's for everyone, mind, not just me.

Other: Well... Several T-shirts with Engrish sayings (This Is Not Here), a little Dalmatian, nine angels, a LAZER pointer, a Nightwish cd, a memory whatsit... and more.

But what did I give? A Jazz cd. A pair of earrings. A book about art. A movie about Japanese ping-pong. A little turtle. A fish. And a completely original song. It seems unfair.

I finally finished A Clockwork Orange. It was... strange. I found it interesting that even though the main character was clearly the "bad guy", it was easy to emphasize with him. I think it was the knowledge that the rest of the world as he saw it was even worse, just in a different way. Maybe I feel in some ways I can relate. What I liked most about it, though, was the comparison between the original gang members at the end of the book. You can kill them, you can hire them, you can turn them into clockwork oranges, but if you leave them alone - without pressure, without suffering - then they make their own way in life. And they may well turn out all right. Maybe I can learn from that.

The answer is she hoped the man would be at her sister's funeral.
This question has been asked to several serial killers. They most frequently gave the correct answer. If you got the question right...

North of Fourth and south of the mouth

Things are looking great.

The tree is sparkly, the snow... is, the great sprout-eating contest is getting closer and closer by the second. Presents wrapped; there's a [secret] for my brother, a [also secret] for my dad, AND a [would you believe it? secret] for my mom. For my beloved, [seriously, you would not believe how secret this is]. The Weebl and Bob Christmas special is here - it's loading as I speak. The latest version of IWBTG has come out. Everything is looking fantastic.

I've also got the sweeping and laundry to do, but never mind eh.

I've officially started a time-lapse project. I take a photo of something every day and watch as it changes slowly over time. This could go on for months or even years. The subject? Me, of course! It's going to be interesting to see how this develops.




In other news, my camera is acting weird. The FinePixViewer screen is up, but no matter what buttons I press it won't do anything. How bizarre. Bizarre...



When even butterflies cannot be trusted...

When the blue skies call out your name...

When everything we've made is rusted...

And the world goes up in flames...

Just a little muse.



I forget if I've posted this before:


So much to say, yet so much to do, and the world needs whitening...

31

Looking for payday loan?

56%

Looking for payday loans?

Little Kuriboh makes me laugh

Today I am going to attempt... the unattemptable.
I'm going to try to put a youtube video on my blog.
I've seen it done before. I don't know how, but I'm going to work it out. I will. No hints, now. I will... I will...

*sets off on quest to put video on blog*



*later*

...okay. Now to cross my fingers and hope this works.

Blogging officially semi-daily

...okay. Wow. Just saw There's Something About Mary, and I may never recover. I'm disgusted, appalled, and several other words along the same lines. That was frighteningly painful. Painful painful to watch. "Hey, is that hair gel?" I will never forget that as long as I live. And the fishing scene... it's almost as bad as the episode of Coupling where she's blindfolded the guy and takes him into this room on his birthday and he gets really excited and takes off all his clothes, then his mother says "Oh, Jeffrey!" and he takes off the blindfold to see all the office staff, all his friends, and his parents all staring at him. Ouch. Just... ouch.
Absolutely hilarious, mind.


This is really nerve-wracking. (I wonder if that's really a word? I know I've heard- um, anyway,) I'm uploading a video, it's 58M with 15M finished, it's 9:51 and Cyberpatrol cuts off my internet in just a few minutes. If it doesn't load fast enough I'll have no choice to cut it off and post without it. 9:52... come on...

Okay. I feel as though a huge window has opened up in my physicality. I'm... I don't know how to describe it exactly. Elated? Kind of... disconnected. I don't know. I'm sure if I wasn't feeling so completely paranoid about the whole thing I'd be ecstatic. Mind you, Skeleton is going to flay me alive. What does flay even mean? Also, I wonder what Jim thinks. If Jim thinks. He's reading this over my shoulder right now. I think; I'm not really concentrating so it's hard to tell. You have to wonder. You know, "delusions" like this are considered signs of madness. Maybe all cases of insanity are just people experiencing alter-earth perceptions? Hard to say.

35M... come on...

*The Next Day*

Great. Just perfect. One and half minutes to go and the thing completely freezes up on me. What am I going to do with this? Blogger is so unreliable...

This is a song I wrote for Ella last year. I just need to get it off my chest.

It all began so simply
As we knew just how we feel
But now the world will tell us
That our love was never real
Children no longer innocent
Advise what we should do
Because of them relationships
Are rarely strong or true

It's now a statement of fact
That all affection's an act
True love is
Made of lust, and pixie dust
There's no one left for you to trust
And if we are to fight this lie
We'll never live if we can't try
We have to make them ask the question why

Now strangers and relations
Rain down praises from above
They think we're having sex when
All we've ever shared is love
The world no longer trusts us
To respect our fragile lives
They know that our decaying souls
Ensure no one survives

And even now I start to doubt
What this love truly is about
I trust but
Me and you? Can this be true? Do you feel the same as I do?
But those who trust are not alone
We'll turn the adolescent throne
There's no one here who should be left alone

There's no more now that can be said
And no more left to find
Though tender words like “girlfriend”
Sear across my weary mind
The time has passed for justice
To the truth we have to cling
That's why I pour my heart out
In this song that I can't sing

Society is binding me
But the world can't tear us apart!

...okay. The stupid video quit on me again. I'm just going to leave it.

Lux Mortis

Leave me alone, Jim. Please.
Watching me or watching over me? I don't know which is worse.

A lot of work to do tonight. A lot a lot.

The test confirmed it. Links can be broken. Mental bonds, formed willingly or no. Part of me stays in everyone I touch. It's a huge weight off my mind that these are not permanent. There are some people I don't want to be connected to forever.

That bruise was huge. I don't know. I couldn't get the whole thing, but I felt the moment of impact; the rush, the loss, the dawning hysteria before the moment died. I felt everything breaking around me and the pain of having survived. I felt the coldness and the stunned silence. It's an imperfect reconstruction, but I understand what you went through. I'm so sorry.

I don't know what I would do if I was alone. I'd probably become a total recluse. It would be days before I would speak to anyone. I would start compulsively scratching my arms with anything that came to hand. Eventually they'd try to put me back to work. Around lunch I'd disappear. They'd eventually find me collapsed, face-down in the snow in the middle of the field. I'd be brought inside and a kind but clueless councillor would try to coax me out of my sullen huddle. I would only glare. The next day I would be gone. I would take Fuzzy and just start walking. Maybe they would find me again. Maybe I would just disappear. Maybe I would surface days later, frozen to death on a street somewhere. Maybe I'd be found and brought back to face the wrath of everyone who knew me. Maybe I would meet a new friend and start a new life on the street. Maybe Jim would finally step in. At least I would have Fuzzy. Maybe then it wouldn't be as unbearable. I know I wouldn't go back. If they tried to catch me I'd tear them apart with my teeth. They'd tie me up and drag me, kicking and screaming like the animal I am, to the nearest psyche ward. For a while I would communicate only in garbled writing, then would eventually shut down completely. Never to speak again.

I think I need a hug.

The project is silly. I'm neither an introvert nor an extrovert. I'm a mezzovert, posing as an introvert. Presumably there's another level on the complete opposite side of the spectrum, but I'm in no position to study it. The whole thing is silly. I've known who I am for years.

Flipflip flippity flipflipflip, I'm downside-up and perpendicular to the world...

Okay. First off, I'm having with the extreme hatingness of this cyberpatrol system. Specifically, the 9:30 cutoff. I've been blocked from posting on this blog at the last minute several times over.

I told a story. My story. Wish I could remember how it went. They laughed. I appreciate that. Everyone said "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" when I mentioned I had found someone to love. People do tend to say that a lot. I wonder why.

Everyone seems relieved that I'm not dead. Strange. I never actually mentioned suicide... of course, death holds no fears for me. I guess it would upset most people. Anyway, I'm not dead. Nothing happened. I almost wish people had made more of a fuss... but I'm not a drama queen.

Live Free or Die Hard was probably one of the best action movies I've seen in a long time. The Golden Compass had a lot of potential, but just wasted it.

It's funny how I've always got so much to say in life, but then go online and find nothing to write in my blog. Also I'm getting embarrassed that a certain someone appears to be writing every day. I've been somewhat neglecting that.

And for no real reason, here's the first episode of my best guilty pleasure yet: a pointless yet strangely amusing satire. No... satire sounds too sophisticated.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmVGQR3NNdg

In this town! Don't we love it now...

Wannabe dark days? If you can be insecure about security and secure about insecurity I guess anything is possible.

I don't care what she says. No one can call this sanity. I'm paranoid, possibly delusional, maybe even have a major disorder. I'm completely detached from reality. Nothing makes sense to me, and everything that shouldn't make sense does. I see logic as debatable and facts as the shields of the weak. When I'm angry I make monsters to smash things. I try to see into the future, the minds and souls of those around me, and even the fifth dimension. I get the feeling that a thing that can't be seen is calling me to something. It used to be an annoyance. Now when I sense it in public it scares me. Some times I'm so scared, nothing makes sense and I'm so scared...

And now I can feel myself slipping. It's only a matter of time now. Only a matter of time. Who knows? Maybe I'll die tonight.