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My Sushi Forecast
Telling your future through uncooked fish has never been so easy!
(By the way, despite the fact that uncooked marine life makes me kind of want to throw up my innards, my favourite form of sushi is 'Kappa'. Please excuse me while I sound a little *ahem* "girly-girlish", but I think its the cutest form of dead poisson. Or, maybe cute is too..."frilly" a word. Its the most creative form, perhaps, of sushi. It reminds me of the scene in 'Return to Oz', when Dorothy and the Gnome King are eat--- nevermind. Sorry. Using old children's movies from 1985 to prove my point about the appearance of chopped up, cold food is something I'd rather not do.)
Kappa is the best sushi form. That is all.
Link via SillyCow.
Another pasty loner is welcomed into the fold..
I am now part of the debating club.
Nerds, unite.
The stupidest forward ever.
I hate forwards.. don't you? Their all about life or death, luck or misfortune situations that revolve entirely around the passing on of some stupid email. Their mostly annoying no matter what the message -- but I just got possibly one of the most deranged, pathetic excuses for a forward ever, with the subject line: "so0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0sad and scary must fwd!!!!!!!"
Apparently, its not just sad and frightening. Its so0o0o0o0+ sad and scary. Its amplified by like, a billion. And, fer godsakes, its written in the style of an illiterate fool who's seen 1) way to many Urban Legends movies. (Of course, way too many constitutes as watching any at all.) and 2) there is no two. Watching any sort of 'Urban Legend' {this also includes 'I Know What You Did Last Summer', its sequel; and any sort of B movie featuring the Noxema Girl.) pretty much sums it up. Add to the writer's new knowledge of cheesy, cliched urban legends a good dose of melodrama and throw in neon green text over a black background (curse you Hotmail Rich Text Format!!) and you have the forward I just received.
{Also, I should mention, bad grammarcy, spelling and horrid punctuation. Think one of George Bush's speeches. Amplified and sent out through mass emails.}
An excerpt from the forward:
"what are you writing?" he asked
Its like the period key was broken on their keyboard. No, seriously. I think we should start a fund for this period-less person and forward this plea through email; with perhaps 1) a 'forward this to 10 people or die' warning; 2) A 'if you don't help me, may you get what you deserve', with perhaps another warning to forward or 'something bad will happen to you' and/or 'you'll never fall in love' and/or 'you will receive the same email from 18 other people within the next ten minutes and be found tomorrow morning in a huddled mass, rocking back and forth muttering 'this is the funniest thing EVR! =useless smiley face=''
Ergh. The entire point of the forward was so entirely nonexistent. It was a sad, badly-written story about the death of a small boy in an 'urban legend' fashion. In the end I was threatened to forward it.
And, of course, I did. (Read: I sent it to Sarah. Oh, how she enjoys my forwards.)
Aside; by the way -- wish I'd gone out in this costume for Halloween. I being me, and me living here in good ol' Thunder Bay however, people probably would have thought I was a clam, or maybe a terrorized carebear. Or; even, quite possibly, some of the new fashions coming out of the Gap.
Link via LittleYellowDifferent.
Finito.
I was hoping to go for some sort of contrast -- I'm not sure how much I like this though. These continual redesigns are going to start sucking very, very soon. A lot.
I'm sure I could be able to come up with some sort of witty entry if my brain hadn't melted inside my skull and started oozing out of my ears and onto the keyboard in a mushy slosh of Animal Farm secondary sources, cheesy eighties movies, and HTML code, leaving the only memorable thing still inside a faint recollection of the time I forgot lines to a Christmas play in Grade Eight, whilst on stage.
A play that I wrote. It was all very awkward. Some sort of narrative about a magic postman, and uhm, a flashy Baby Jesus. (???) .. While on the subject, I can remember Brad and I writing out the plot when incredibly bored in the early morning hours. The basic plotline I presented to the principal was more of a joke and a hope that she would shoot it down and tell me I couldn't write the play.
Alas...
So, thats kind of the leadup to that horrible moment when I forgot the two lines I was supposed to say in front of everyone -- enduring the ridicule of knowing that my name was slapped in big, bold letters on the cover of the play booklet and I was standing up on stage (or blocked off piece of gym floor -- public schools; pfft.) looking like an absolute idiot in my construction paper postman hat and cardboard box letter bag. Dear God. I was WEARING SHORTS. With GIANT, KNEE LENGTH SOCKS.
Embarrassing.
This layout will probably remind me of that continually until in a fit of regression and frustration I take it down and put up some dark text that says "Blog" and go for the originally non-original approach.
So enjoy the picture of Sarah on here that she'll kill me for later.
Experimentating, experimentation, experimentatable...
Which 2 don't belong? You're right. I'm sorry. Their all "words" used on the Jerry Springer Show at one time or another. Except of course, for 'experimentation', which was never used.
I'm going to try and do something with this horrid layout. If I don't like it -- which it looks like I won't; then I'll be taking it down within the next few days and trying again. Or perhaps, just creating a singular white page, sans graphics, and going the way of the 'hiatus'. Yet, junkie that I am, I'm not sure if I could really endure not posting. Sad, really, I know... but.. meh.
So don't mind the chaos. Or mind it. And leave. Whichever. bastard...
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Marshmallow Coffee Archives
oh, the insanity:
Pssst... guess what guys?? I love Pitas.com
 helping.org
 
To reiterate; shizzel my nizzel.
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