Okay, it is not a resignation, it’s a hiatus. I lied. Get over it.

I’ve decided that I need a break from this thing that you call an internet ‘blog’ as I sound whiney and pathetic. Did I also mention I’m not funny? Yay! Emo time!

 

I warn you, this hiatus may be short. Holidays are in TWO WEEKS after all (wooh!)

 

Now, Some aspects of my day were bad, but you don’t care, and neither do I! =D

Haha, so instead of bitching, for my last entry in a while I shall tell you the good aspects of today. In addition, there were heaps of good things, thank you for asking Miss Crocker-field. Now, would you like a scone and a spot of tea?

 

Things that did NOT Pajazo today. Actually, they Trampalooned. Because Trampaloon makes me laugh, and things that make me laugh are good.

 

·          Completely stuffing up Romeo and Juliet with Tahli, Hannah and Kris. Forgetting most of our lines and improvising the whole play, without ever practicing once through without laughing, and all of us getting A’s for it (We did work hard, I swear)

 

·          Carrying plastic plants around the school before the play.

 

·          Carrying my plastic sword on the bus (for the play) and getting told that I could get away with it because I was emo (If you’re sitting there, as confused as I am, I have one word for you… TEA.)  APPARANTLY I’M EMO… HAHAHAH –dies laughing-

 

·          Sitting with Maddi, Scarlett and Josh at break and killing Beyonce music with our laser eye beams.

 

·          Getting an A in music theory =D

 

·          Getting an A on my Chemistry Assignment (yes, another =D)

 

·          Having to do nothing but watch little shop of horrors in show choir.

 

·          Missing out of ten minutes of Math, when they marked the homework I didn’t do, just because of debating.

 

·          Eating a spoon of peanut butter at the liabrary, at the debating meeting and watching Dee consume half a jar, and wondering WHAT THE HELL did Fluorieline put in that buttery goodness.

 

·          Moshing to Mozart.

 

·          Looking out the bus and realizing how pretty it is when it rains outside.  At 6PM. When the sun is setting and the sky is pink and orange.

 

·          ‘I’m going to have to tell you… -shit, what’s my line- “DAMN RIGHT YOU’RE GOING TO TELL ME BITCH”

 

·          I like grass. Grass is good. Except when I’m allergic to it. Then it’s all itchy and erkghg…ghgg.

 

 

I’m now going to kill a couple of thousand of you while I’m still happy.

 

<SUPERMEGAHAPPINESSTHATCALLSFORNOSPACESORPUNCTUATION =D =D =D =D =D =D

ILOVEYOUALL>

 

Consider yourself dead.

Until next time.

 

Thank You and Goodnight™

Laura (the undead, officially yours, the insane one… ME… Yes, call me emo, goth, nerd, loser, prep whatever you wan’t. I don’t care! Throw your insults at me! I don’t care… GUESS WHAT, I FEEL LIKE MY BRAIN IS GOING TO IMPLODE, WHEN IT OVERLOADS AND I’LL JUST BE LEFT IN A VEGETATED STAGE. HAHAHA.

 

Because who cares what I write here when millions die starving in Cambodia?)

 

Huzzah! Another blog? Two in twenty four hours! Laura must be losing her mind.

Well, not really. But I’ve just encountered the most INCOMPETENT doctor ever. Well, not a doctor a skin specialist. I’ll start from the beginning, shall I?

 

Today, as I mentioned in the previous entry, I was scheduled for an appointment with a dermatologist, for my skin allergies today.

My father and I arrived promptly at 8.30, which was out appointment time, and then waited for TWO HOURS until ten thirty, where we finally met the skin ‘specialist’

I use the term ‘specialist’ lightly.

 

I don’t think I’ve ever restrained myself so much in my life.

 

My first opportunity was at the reception, when they asked me if I had any religion beliefs. I had the burning desire to say ‘I’m a Satanist extremist, may I worship you to my God?’ but refrained. I told my father this afterwards and he laughed at me.

 

Now, we met the doctor. I’m just going to call him doctor DUMBFUCK.

Now, don’t you need an OP1 to be a doctor? Well, I have no freaking idea how this guy got one.

HE TOLD ME EVEYTHING THAT I HAD DIAGNOSED MYSELF.

I do senior science god damn it…

This is an example of Mr. Liberal Conservatist’s and my conversation, including his monotone voice.

 

Me:   -Silence - Erm, Hi.

Dr D.F: So…

Me:-looks at dad not quite sure what to say-

Dad: Oh, yes my daughter has been having some allergic reactions, to –blah blah blah- and we took some photographs. We’re not sure what exactly triggered this reaction, and we’d like to know as it wasn’t very nice.

Dr D.F:  Oh. I see (I couldn’t help thinking, erm… no you can’t. You haven’t even looked at the flipping photos). And when did you get this reaction?

Me: It was early December, about a week before we saw Dr. Lam (he had a piece of paper with the appointment dates, and the result of my blood test on it)

Dr D.F: Okay, so was it late November, or Early December?

Me: -casts a sideward glance at my dad, wondering if this ‘doctor’ is not really the cleaner who stole the real doctors badge while we has on lunch break. Dad looks at the doctor as if he is a brick wall-

Early December, I just said that.

Dr D.F :Hmm… Okay, and have you had any other recent reactions since? –I then proceed to show him the crap on my legs and arms-

Yes, I see. It’s totally different.

Me: Uh, my blood test said I was allergic to dust mites, but that’s nothing to do with my skin problems, so it must be some kind of animal or grass, right?

Dr D.F: Well you see the dust mites only affect your sneezing.

Me: Well, I do get hay fever and asthma from time to time, but that has nothing to do with my skin. I usually just take an antihistamine or a puff of my puffer and it goes away.

Dr D.F: Yes, you see skin allergies and sneezes are two different things.

Me: Well, obviously  -starts to get annoyed, because she is being treated as she is two. Dad is still looking at me with an expression that says ‘what the fuck?’ I return his gaze ‘I think he thinks I’m stupid’

Dr D.F: When do you get your hayfever.

Dad: How is this relevant?  We’re talking about her skin. Hayfever is totally different.

Me: Yeah, How do dust mites come into my skin problems?

Dr D.F: Well, dust mites are little microscopic mites that feed of skin cells. We shed skin every…

Me: -cuts in- I know what dust mites are.

Dr D.F: -continues- But we can’t get rid of dustmites because we always shed skin. Dustmites make you sneeze, not irritate your skin.

-Dad and I look at each otheer like NO SHIT THAT’S WHAT WE’VE TOLD YOU-

 

I’m going to stop right now, because this conversation continued for about ten minutes more.  It got worse, too. He gave us a sheet telling us what people are usually allergic to. He also told us everything we told him ‘I get more allergies when it’s humid’ – ‘People tend to get more allergies in humid wheather’ – ‘But, I just… told you that.’

He seemed to think I was stupid. We didn’t even get narrowed down testing, with the whole needle thing, because this doctor just didn’t make sense. It was like talking to a brick wall. No scratch that, it was WORSE. I really wanted to say something evil. But I was just incredibly rude. I wanted to shake him and yell ‘WHAT THE HELL KIND OF SPECIALIST ARE YOU’

I told dad I wanted to jump him when he left. Dad thinks I should of.

I also lost my Sex Pistols patch at the hospital –tear- and we spent fifteen dollars on parking.

I hate hospital smell. I hate all the sidewards look I get from older people. I hate it that every adult there thinks I’m a dumb ass just because most people my age are ignorant. I hate the four hour waits.

 

---

 

I HATE HOSPITALS.

Nothing good ever comes out of them. And don’t you say ‘babies are born there’ because my brother CERTAINLY wasn’t good.

On the way out, when we had to pay fifteen dollars dad asked the guy how much money the parking made each day.

‘More than I make’ was his answer.

I then yelled out ‘You should go upstairs and be a skin specialist’

The parking guy replied ‘Nah, I don’t have the brains’

Dad and I both said ‘You don’t need ‘em!’

 

My father also stated that we could just go on the street and tell people to be doctors as there is a shortage of them in our state. I think I would do pretty well right now. We then continued to make jokes throughtout the day like when the radio said ‘An escaped rapist has been let out of jail...’ My father cut it to say ‘AND HE’S NOW A SKIN SPECIALIST’

 

And this joke. He wrote ‘If our doctor tried to use a computer’

 

There's always one. This has got to be one of the funniest things in a long time. I think this guy should have been promoted, not fired This is a true story from the Word Perfect Helpline, which was transcribed from a recording monitoring the customer care department. Needless to say the Help Desk employee was fired; however, he/she is currently suing the Word Perfect organization for "Termination without Cause".

Actual dialogue of a former WordPerfect Customer Support employee. (Now I know why they record these conversations!):

Operator: "Ridge Hall, computer assistance; may I help you?"

Caller: "Yes, well, I'm having trouble with WordPerfect."

Operator: "What sort of trouble? "

Caller: "Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."

Operator: "Went away?"

Caller: "They disappeared."

Operator: "Hmm So what does your screen look like now?"

Caller: "Nothing."

Operator: "Nothing?"

Caller: "It's blank; it won't accept anything when I type."

Operator: "Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"

Caller: "How do I tell?"

Operator: "Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?"

Caller: "What's a sea-prompt?"

Operator: "Never mind, can you move your cursor around the screen?"

Caller: "There isn't any cursor: I told you, it won't accept

anything I type."

Operator: "Does your monitor have a power indicator?"

Caller: "What's a monitor?"

Operator: "It's the thing with the screen on it that looks like a

TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when it's on?"

Caller: "I don't know."

Operator: "Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?"

Caller: "Yes, I think so."

Operator: "Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it's plugged into the wall.

Caller: "Yes, it is."

Operator: "When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"

Caller: "No."

Operator: "Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable."

Caller: "Okay, here it is."

Operator: "Follow it for me, and tell me if it's plugged securely into the back of your computer."

Caller: "I can't reach."

Operator: "Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"

Caller: "No."

Operator: "Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"

Caller: "Oh, it's not because I don't have the right angle - it's because it's dark."

Operator: "Dark?"

Caller: "Yes - the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window.

" Operator: "Well, turn on the office light then."

Caller: "I can't."

Operator: "No? Why not?"

Caller: "Because there's a power failure."

Operator: "A power......... A power failure? Aha, Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"

Caller: "Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."

Operator: "Good. Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."

Caller: "Really? Is it that bad?"

Operator: "Yes, I'm afraid it is."

Caller: "Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"

Operator: "Tell them you're too fucking stupid to own a computer!"

---

Oh well, at least I get a day off school. I also have to go to work at five today –grumbles something about not being paid yet-

I am still sad about my Patch. WHERE DID I LOSE IT? I do not know.

There is something else that really shits me off. People licking their fingers, and then turning the page.

JUST TURN THE FREAKING PAGE MORON, IT ISN’T THAT HARD.

Today I observed the most gruesome sight. There was an obese man in the hospital waiting room, reading a magazine. He licked two of his fingers, turned the page and then licked them again.

Oh my god. Do you know how many germs there are in a hospital waiting room. IN THE DERMATOLOGY DEPARTMENT… Mmm, imagine all those loose flakes of eczema and highly contagious rashes on that one magazine. Not to mention where the hell had those fingers been. His, and other peoples. And he was just planting germs in his mouth time after time. Gross. I’m never reading a hospital magazine again. Ever.

I remember in year two a substitute teacher licked his thumb and gave me my sheet. I also remember a HUGE WAD of spit on my page and not wanting to touch it. The only other thing I remember in year two is when I almost broke my ankle. HOW SCARRED WAS I FROM THAT?

Just turn the page, you imbecile.

In a soon blog, I will write about my own generation, and the government. In addition, the way adults see us. They think none of us are listening. But I am.

So comment my lovelies. I love you all. Unless you are doctor D.F or lick your fingers before turning a page.

Thank You and Goodnight™
Laura (Who really thinks she could be a skin specialist WITHOUT graduating from high school)

Ps: I miss my patch -tear- It was the first one I ever bought.   

~          I know this blog has nothing to do with dying young, car crashers, cancer or anything in my title. I thought it up myself however. There is a poem about it in my book, but I doubt that anyone wants to hear. it.

 

May I add, I did NOT butcher a Pink Floyd song on Monday. I actually did pretty well =D

Reality Deceives Whatever you Believe.

 

 

Yes, I know I haven’t written a journal entry in a while. I know I told Chard I’d do it by 2AM last night. But I’m tired, and I have work, school work and a life. Yes, a life. It may not be GOOD, but I have one.

 

Anyway

 

I’ve decided, that my school, is a breeding ground for moronic sheep.

I won’t heave you hanging.

 

The first reason is…

1.  We aren’t allowed to petition. Anything. Apparently, if you start a petition (even though petitioning against something would be invalid, because almost everyone at school is under eighteen, and therefore is not at the legal age to have a say in anything) you get suspended. Yes, that’s what I thought to. How morally unjust is this. I wouldn’t mind so much if they told us ‘Yes, you guys have no say in your school’ but it’s all about this bullshit saying ‘You guys have a voice in your school!’ –cough- Bullshit.

 

The reason I found this out (thank you Craig for telling me this before I started a petition and was suspended) is that I wanted to start a petition, or a protest of a boycott against one of our rules.

 

2. Before I continue any further, I’ll explain our uniform to you. Well, the three ‘main’ ones anyway.

We have – Formal School Uniform which we have to wear everyday.

Sports uniform; which we only wear on our CONNECT days (I’ll explain what the hell CONNECT is later in my blog) and when we have PE/ Training for any sports.

And lastly, but not least, we have the ARTS uniform, which is exactly the same as the sports uniform, but the shirt is Navy blue, and it says ‘Arts’ on it beneath the name of our school. We are only allowed to wear this for drama/ art/ music/ dance and all other arts functions.

 

Now, the Uniform Policy clearly states that we are only allowed to wear our FORMAL uniform each day (excluding the sports uniform which we can wear on our allocated CONNECT days), however, if have PE or an Arts subject, we have to change into the other uniforms through out the day, and then back into our formal uniform when that lesson is fair.

Now, I personally think this is a waste of time, but I can see why the school did this. However, the next thing is just unjust.

 

The school recently started a ‘Uniform Review’ and you can now wear your sports uniform all day, or until break time to change.

NOW TELL ME WHY, THE ARTS UNIFORM IS NOT FREAKING CONSIDERED A UNIFORM AND THE SPORTS ONE IS.

How do they vary? The shirt.

That is ALL.

Now why aren’t we allowed to wear our ARTS uniform all day, or until break to change. Why are people getting uniform detentions just because their arts teachers didn’t have the time to make the class stop fifteen minutes earlier just so everyone could change back into their sports uniform for an hour?

 

BECAUSE MY SCHOOL IS SPORTS ORIENTATED, THAT’S WHY.

I don’t even see why they’re so strict on the uniform policy. We’re a private school. My science teacher spends a quarter of the lesson checking hour uniform. WE COULD SPEND THAT TIME LEARNING.

 

3. Now, I am moving on to CONNECT (I almost can’t say that word without shuddering, let alone type it numerous times)

 

Last year, we has SCRAM, on Wednesday afternoons. It was useful. And fun. It either gave people a break from school, gave time from people to study and whom ever wanted to play sport, or rehearse for the big drama production. It was good.

 

But since the school is almost broke now, and the funding just got cut by the government (don’t even start me on the government) instead of just blocking us an hour long study session, tutorials, rehearsal or training time, whatever something USEFUL they could have done… You know what? They want us to CONNECT to this hell hole. Now I wouldn’t mind it so much if the majority of the people at my school were NICE people. But let’s face it, most are insidious, vile, foul mouthes, skanks. And man whores. Except for Mustard, my imaginary boyfriend. And the people I talk to without yelling at each day… but yes, I’m getting off topic. This is what they do to us instead of making us LEARN…

THEY’VE STUCK US IN A CLASS ROOM FOR AN HOUR…

…Doing nothing…

…Except talking between each other…

…ABOUT NOTHING.

And they’re trying to brainwash. I swear.

 

There are these booklets. I haven’t looked through the whole thing yet, but I’ll tell you what section MY class is doing.

THE BIG STUFF.

Which just happens to be about peace. All of it.

Now I don’t know which crack ass wrote this booklet, but all the questions repeat themselves, over and over again.

‘What do you think peace is?’

‘What are your views on peace?’

‘How would the world be if we achieved peace’

‘How are you going to start trying to start world peace?’

‘What is peace?’

‘How does peace affect humans’

‘Would you like there to be peace’

‘Peace, peace, peace, peace, blah, blah, blah’

 

I’ll tell you why this is stupid, and repetitive.

On the first page on ‘What are your views on peace’, this is what I wrote.

 

“My views on peace. Lets see. There is no such thing as peace. There never will be, or has been. Peace will never occur as long as people have different beliefs. Different religion. They day they abolish all money. The day the erase our beliefs. The day they make us look exactly the same, and think exactly the same. That is when peace will occur. But is a colorless world really a price to pay for ‘peace?’ I think not. And when you strip people of their beliefs, do you think it will make them WANT to be peaceful? No. It will make them want to kill a few thousand people. This whole Idea of world peace, what this whole unit is suggesting, is impossible. Even the first civilizations, thousands of years ago had wars. World peace? I think not… It’s human nature. Greed, Selfishness, hate. How can everyone get along?”

 

At this point Matt and Abhi stopped reading my work and said “Man, you’re really going to fail this peace stuff”

 

Which is when I found out WE WERE GETTING MARKED ON IT.

So I raised my hand, and asked the teacher “Do I fail if I don’t agree with this book?”

And he said… “No” (thank god) “Because I don’t agree with it either. Even the first empires fought.”

 

But seriously, what the hell!

I then spent the next five minutes writing below all the questions ‘this question is invalid, peace does not exist’

 

I’m glad to say I WILL NOT FAIL.

 

I just can’t wait to see what the other units are about –IMMENSE MIND BLOWING SARCASM-

 

Enough about my school. Enough about this whole stupid system. We don’t actually learn much at school, sadly. My brain needs information. I am not attending school tomorrow, however as I am going to hospital to get prodded with a few thousand syringes, get allergy testing, and hopefully see a physio-therapist about my rock hard shoulder muscles. There is a problem right there it’s like someone has inserted concrete into the bottom of my neck. My friend who was massaging said she’s never seen so much tension in her life.

 

I am also going to explode at someone. I was extremely neurotic today. I think lack of sleep is building up… I need some coffee with added crack.

 

Please comment, if you were bothered to read this…

Oh yes, and in true style…

YOUR MORALS DON’T MEAN ANYTHING.

 

Thank You and Goodnight™

Laura (Who is becoming more bitter and incoherent by the second)

"Mickey Mouse Is Dead"

Mickey Mouse is dead
Got kicked in the head
Cause people got too serious
They planned out what they said
They couldn't take the fantasy
They tried to accept reality
Analyzed the laughs
Cause pleasure comes in halves
The purity of comedy
They had to take it seriously
Changed the words around
Tried to make it look profound
The comedian is on stage
Pisstaking for a wage
The critics think he's great
But the laughter turns to hate
Mickey Mouse is on T.V.
And the kids stare at the screen
But the pictures are all black and white
And the words don't mean a thing
Cause Mummy's got no money
And Daddy is in jail
He couldn't afford the license
She couldn't afford the bail
The kids out in the road
Their minds have all gone cold
Cause Mickey Mouse is dead
They shot him through the head
With ignorance and scorn
They believed in something new
They read the papers watched the films
And they thought they new the truth
But reality deceives
Whatever you believe
There's always another idea
And theirs is based on fear
The fear of being sussed
For what you really are
The fear of being laughed at
When you go too far
They call it paranoia
You can laugh it away
Until you come to realize
That everyone's the same
People hide their problems
Under faces of contempt
They hide them 'til it kills them
And no one is exempt
Not even you
Look what you done to Mickey Mouse

 

Now, for all of you who didn’t know, and didn’t read that, it was the Subhumans (who sound like Crass and The Dead Kennedys), preforming Mickey Mouse is Dead.

If you did not read it… Do it now. These are AWESOME lyrics. I couldn’t have put it better myself. And no, I will not be posting lyrics every single entry.

 

This is a forward I recently made and circulated. I hope you all enjoy it. I sent this to alot of people I don't even know who send me fowards. I hope I get a response.

 

---

 

 

I thought we all needed a humour filled parody on a sunny Sunday afternoon. So here it goes...

 

OMZ U GUYZ, THERES THIS GIRL CALLED AMY, YOU ALL KNOW AMY RIGHT?
WELL LAST NIGHT SHE GOT THIS EMAIL, AND SHE DIDN'T FORWARD IT ON AND SHE WOZ DEAD DIS MORNING.

 

HERE'S DA EMAIL

>>>

 

Good Day. You have been tagged by the Spagehtti Monster. (Yes, you head me)

Now, you will be really screwed if you don't foward this on to One million four hundred and eighty six different people who all live in your house hold in the next zero point two millisecond.

Yes, you are totally screwed.

So, you didn't forward it on I presume. As I doubt that that many people live in your house, and that you are speedy enough to forward this bullshit to all of them.

Oh well, you had a good run.

Now, let me tell you what is happening.

Tonight you will go to bed. This little boy names Timmy who is seven years old, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He is a Neo Nazi. HE IS DEAD. -cue dramatic suspenseful music-

Well Timmy said that every time you forward this message on, he'll kill four people and donate them to the National Cancer fund. So you see, this message has been forwarded on so many times that many bodies have been donate and Timmy might not die.

But alas, that body will be yours.

 

Now, I shall tell you about this girl names Dash Smith. (Yes, I did combine several names to get that name) She was walking around the street, when suddenly her shoe lace was untied and she tripped and fell! You know why? Because she didn't forward on this message.

 

There was also this man named John who lived in the arid regions of Australia. He fowarded this message on, and the next day it didn't rain! Holy jimmerkers, what luck is that!

 

Now, if you think that Banana's ought to grow legs sign this useless petitions that dosen't mean anything, because it's an ONLINE petition, and is therefore invalid.

 

1. Laura, Australia

 

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, IF YOU TYPE I AM AN IDIOT into word, with windings it comes up with A plane flying into your head!!!!111 Try it, it really works!

 

So remember, send this on, or you will have to pay for msn, your MSN guy won't turn blue, You'll be killed by a nymph, You're friends totally won't hate you forever, the sex fairy will not visit you, and the name of your love will not come up when you press F6.

 

BUT, If you do forward this on, people will realise how stupid they sound when they pass these things on.

 

GOD BLESS THE ICONOCLAST!

 

---

 

I shall post some of the replies I receive... -here-

- EDIT - Some Feedback!

 

---

From : Dee ******* <*********@hotmail.com>

Sent: Sunday, 12 March 2006 2:43:15 PM

To: immortal-and-ephemeral@hotmail.com

Subject: RE: OMZ, This totally dosen't work.

 

OMZ NOOOOOOOO. I don't want to die. Although, if Timmy lives, it is a good deal......

It allz totally works guyz, try it! The guy ttally ddnt get hiz rain... LOL!

Die, abbreviations.

1.       Laura, Australia

2.       2. Amanda Hugandkiss, Australia

 

- Dee

 

---

Thank You and Goodnight™
Laura (Who created this whole bullshit parody.)

 

Why do people think the way they do?

 

I’m sitting here listening to questions in SOSE class (Isn’t it odd how I always write these things in SOSE class… Anyway)

Someone raises his or her hand.

“Why doesn’t water fall off the earth, but when you tip water onto a ball, it falls off?”

Okay, now think about this.  Not the question itself, but how people think.  What compels people to do the things they do?  Well if they are not under someone’s influence, or an influence (you know what I’m talking about) it is the way they think, the way their brain works right? Now if you forget about the media conditioning us to human standards for a moment, you could ask yourself, how do people think. Do two people think in the same way, and above all, how can you dictate how someone’s brain works; the classification of ideas.

You can’t. You see, that’s the beauty of ideas. No one else thought them up, the way you did. No one saw the things you thought up. It’s all to do with the metacognition, that they will never see, bringing some people to think ‘How the hell did she come up with that?’

 

What makes someone form beliefs? In most cases, they are manipulated by others, whether it be the media, your parents or your friends. Even just society in general, for example, how people do stupid things they’d never think of doing because they are ‘cool’

Many others find mediums in music, and art, and poetry, and writing. As long as you believe in something, you have probably been influenced. Not in a negative way, necessarily. Look at the bible, and religion after all. That’s a perfect example of people being influenced.

 

Though somehow you still wonder why people do the things they do, and their way of doing them. Why do some thoughts provoke anger, sorrow, and guilt. Most people pretend that others actions don’t affect them, but everyone, sadly even myself, have a conscious. That gut wrenching feeling you get. And of course, where there is a conscious, there is a cover up. There isn’t yet a guiltless human, and no matter how hard people try, there shall never be one. This is because a brain is conditioned to create emotions, and reactions. Okay, some people definitely focus less on how their actions affect others, but they still focus on how their emotions are affecting them right.

 

I’m rambling again. What inspires certain people, and enrages the others. Everyone’s brain is different, so how can people be so blind about their actions consequences. I bet you care about your impact. How can some people turn their faces from what’s going on in the world, simply so they can live a happy existence. It doesn’t seem fair on the rest of us, but still, humans are selfish. Greed is imprinted into our nature. So many questions without answers, and yet humanity claims that we are the superior ones.

 

I certainly know that I was compelled to put this on paper, just so my brain would be set out straight, but look where it got me. An almost empty pen and a hell of questions. Most of my friends half of this and said ‘Oh, is this for a project’ and gave it back to me. No it isn’t. I wrote this because I wanted too.

 

So, as a conclusion to my incredibly short thesis, I state that we do not know, and we will continue not to know. Only you can tell if you are lying, and even then, your subconscious alters your own memories. It’s what makes us individual, we all see things differently. So this is how a brain works, easily altered like a piece of modeling clay.

 

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Attention Seeking Whores Who want free Publicity.

 

 

Okay, now I shall write about Chard and Kai, the attention seeking whores. Yes, they are very attention seeking and so much better than smut. See, they are so attention seeking, that they asked a whole blog be didcated to them. Ha, very funny you guys. Now, to pay me back, you shall write about ME, or I shall stab you. But yes, they are hella awesome (HA, I said Hella) If it weren’t for Kai, you guys wouldn’t have been reading this. Yes, that’s right he got me into this whole rant-about-things-no-one-will-ever-read. And as for Chard, he’s just awesome. And so is Smish. Haha, Chard’s a house bitch…

 

Some people are called Andrew and others aren’t. This is probably because if everyone was called Andrew things would get verrry complicated. I mean, you’d call out ‘Andrew’ and about fourteen people would turn around. Not to say that calling a girl Andrew would be a compliment to someone named Andrew.

Andrew Count: 5.  I hope you are happy.

 

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Haha, Now for Spade’s suggestion…

“I think you should write a story about if the Beach Boys were in a cheesy cop show from the '70's.”

Oh spade, you have such genius ideas.

 

The BEACH COPS.

Rated I for idiotic content.

Telecaster that sounds like she overdosed on Prozac: Welcome ladies and gentlemen. Of course, I shall mention trans gendered people, as they will get offended if I don’t. It’s only because I’m super optimistic and have to use this voice that sounds like I’ve swallowed a canary… Mmm, chirpy. I bring you an introduction. In 1968 with crime rates all over California, in the US of A (yes we are dumbasses) an elite team of singing surfing, fun loving and goofy but lovable band of police were formed. These where known as the beach boys as they sung while busting crime! Oh Imagine the possibilities! This included Brian Wilson, the crazy perfectionist, who even preformed liposuction on himself. This is California after all. In the late sixties, he was confessed a drug addition, and mental illness. Regardless of this, he still fought crime, with schizophrenia. His alter ego was named ‘Richard Cranium’ here he is ladies and gentle men, Brriiiiaannn!

 

-Enter Brian-

Brian: Brian! You ass hole, you should have slept with the producers.

No Richard, no. She’s a woman for gods sake.

 

Telecaster Continues (Slightly disturbed): The second members of the Beach Cops patrol was Carl Dean Wilson, the youngest of the three brothers who made up the core of The BeachCops. He is generally considered to have had one of the finest voices in popular music of the twentieth century. But that dosen’t matter, because he only sings when he’s capping bitches! Ladies and gentlemen, Carl!

-Carl appears, and Brian slaps him-

Carl: Say no to vietna… Ouch! What was that for you bastad!

 –Carl gets out a knife and holds it to Brians throat-

Brian: It was Richard, I swear!

 

Telecaster Clears her throat, and stops the neck slit motion she is sending the camera man: Dennis Carl  Wilson (Man they loved the name Carl) was born in California. Dennis was the second (middle) of the Wilson brothers. Urged by older cousin Mike Lover to become an actor on a crappy sitcom, Dennis did, in the fear of getting rejected from Mike, his lover. Dennis was the only real surfer on the show, and he still sucked. He then started drinking, because he decided that Mike Love, was cheating on him with his older brother.

-Dennis stumbles in, vomit down his front, and a beer in his hand-

Dennis –in drunken slur-: Ahah, Mike has a small peni…

Telecaster cuts in hurridly: Al Jardine, was the next member, that no one really knew about. He was insignificant, and highly stupid. That’s why he dosen’t get an introduction to himself. Oh man, why did I agree to this! Now, to Mike Love. He was Dennis’s gay lover. Even though all the Beach Boys were gay. Mike Love started taking drugs, just so he’d forget about Dennis pestering him, and threatening to leave his wife if they did not engage in intercourse.

-Mike and Al come in, obviously drugged up on weed. They stand next to the three brothers and poke the camera-

Telecaster: Together, they formed the Beach Cops. Now, you get to decide if Laura writes more about this, or leaves the cops to rot in hell.

 

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Thank You and Goodnight™

Laura (Who never ever taking requests again…)