27 December 2010

Totally pointless non-festive obligatory Christmas-ish post...

BAM! New post, for reason other than I cannot sleep anymore at regular hours, my circadian rhythm is desynchronised with the general populace... (note to self, stop watching countdown...) So in order to try and reach tiredness, I am going to pour some thoughts from my head into the putrid soup that is the internet.
Also, I am going to try and post at least weekly in the new year, I write this now only so I can look back and go "Damnit, I am a failure of a person because I cannot keep up with the simplest of tasks on a regular basis..."

Onward into depths of my mind...

Christmas is over, and I am terribly sad about that, but New Years is soon, so woot! Let's drink last year into oblivion and start this one off in a haze of drunkeness and debauchery and hedonism and lechery and all that wonderful stuff. America, FUCK YEAH!

Disregard the last two words of that paragraph, they make no sense. Wait, shit three words.
I realise now that this somehow slipped from what I was hoping to be a carefully thought out, well edited blog into a stream-of-consciousness type thing. I mean, I could delete all this up to now, or I could just continue on? Too late, fuck it you can't unread it, deal with it.

So I recently discovered, and even more recently rediscovered a hilarious blog called hyperbole and a half, which blogs on everything from retarded dogs, to games with bricks to killer velocigeeseters. I can't describe how funny this is in words alone, so I'm going to use the site's creator's own words and say that it is a "stabbing funny, and on a scale of one to ten, it's a seven"

I still don't quite get facebook. Or twitter. But twitter's shit and no-one of importance cares about it, i.e. me, mostly because I cannot contain my brilliance into 140 characters, and also because I refuse to abbrvt wrdz 4 te intrntz... (IRONY!) AND SUBTLETY! look what I learned to do...
Facebook! And how I am shit at it. I don't get the games, except for robot unicorn attack, I don't tag photos, because I dislike people tagging me and I'm all Jesus like in that respect and there's just too much stuff. Too much! Facebook will go the way of bebo, crushing itself under the weight of its numerous apps and clutter and quizzes and people will just move onto whatever the new thing is. My bet is Diaspora, check it out, tell your friends, I don't get paid, I swear...

First time we had turkey for Christmas dinner this year, and just wow. Turkey's always dry to me, but something was different this year (may have been the copious wad of butter inserted lovingly into the business end of the turkey, but who knows). This has changed my outlook on other foods, what else am I missing out on? Maybe peanut butter isn't actually that bad.

Actually, new paragraph, this is important. Peanut butter looks like poop. And from the way it moves, it seems to have the consistency of poop. I generally refuse to eat foods that resemble bodily functions. Someone once pointed out to me the irony of having Nesquik's mascot be a rabbit when the chocolatey cereal is not entirely dissimilar to cottontail crap. I have since eaten some, but it has taken on a bitter taste in my mouth. Other foods in this list include apple juice, fudge, porridge (vomit, in case you have to ask, which you might as that one always confuses even me...) and sandwich spread(also vomit, and strangely enough, something that no-one else seems to have heard of. But it is real, LOOK!

Vomit in a jar. All our technology, and we do this why?

Hair. Me my hair (my hair and I?) have a complicated relationship. I feel like an exasperated teacher when dealing with it. It has so much potential, I mean, really it could achieve some wonderful things if it would just try, and not be too long, or too short, or misshapen (fuck you shitty cheap hairdressers with your promises of competent people monitoring my hairs progress. LIES!) but no matter what I do, my hair just refuses to listen to my words of encouragement, and decides instead to do its own thing, which usually means poking me in the eye, reshaping itself into a bale of matted muck or diving kamikaze style into my food, especially when eating with other people forcing me to fish it out all impolitely. In summary, if my head was not so misshapen, and I imagine I have a few scars up there, I would shave my head bald.

Aaaaaand, tiredness has hit me like a brick wall. That analogy makes no sense... Must finish post... Something festive... Happy New Year, or not if you're Chinese. Toodle pip.

Aidan out.

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