Untitled.

Isn't it nice to know

That the lining is silver

Isn't it nice to know

That we're golden

She's almost brighter than the sun

Seems to me to be unfair

When you consider everyone

Who pales when they compare

When they compare

We should get jerseys

Cause we make a good team

But yours would look better than mine

Cause you're out of my league

And I know that it's so cliche to tell you that everyday
I spend with you is the new best day of my life

And now I'm sunny with a High of 75
Since You took my heavy heart

And made it light
And its funny how you find
You enjoy your life
When you're happy to be alive

Always knew I'd find someone
I never dreamt it'd be like this
You've surpassed
All that I've hoped for (and ever wished)
And I'm tryin' so hard
With all my heart and mind
To make your life
As good as you've made mine 

*sighs*
This is going real well.

It's been a while, hasn't it? Ooh, probably about...6 months and 9 days. Or 27 weeks. Or 192 days. Or 4608 hours. Or 276,480 minutes. Or 16,588,800 seconds. Or....maybe I'll stop.

Anyways, A LOT has happened in that time, and unfortunately I don't have a very good memory so I won't be able to tell you most of what happened in those 192 days, aside from about a month ago. Or maybe more. We'll see how we go. And it won't be in order. Sorry about that.

Here's a bombshell to start you off...I started reading Twilight. *audience gasps*. Yes, shocking, isn't it? I had a thought...about ducks. But that's not relevant.
So anyway, I thought, "Maybe I've been a bit hard on Twilight. Maybe it's not so bad. Hell, I've only read one chapter. And my cat always said, 'Never judge a book by its fangirls.' "
And now I am 3/4 of the way though, or thereabouts. And...it doesn't suck as much as I thought it would. It's actually okay. Aside from Bella's TOTAL OBSESSION with Edward. And the fact that he's a vampire. So it's ok. But it's not great.


I'm working at Macca's now. I applied two weeks ago (about), got called in for an interview two days later, then got hired three days after that, and now on Friday I have my orientation.
LET'S HEAR IT FOR FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE!

I have three (or is it four?) assignment due this term, also known as the final one for the year, and indeed, YEAR 9 ITSELF. I probably should do them, but I don't want to. Simple, really.

Holidays were good. I don't think I saw a movie in those holidays, but I went to Tim's house and I went to Hayden's par-tay, also at his house. Holidays are good.

I should talk about the movies I saw. Yeah...I think I'll do that now.
First up, X-Men Origins: Wolverine. That was way back in May. Saw that with Hayden. It was good, with some wicked action scenes, but not the best. 15/20.
Next, Star Trek. I had obviously heard of it, and kinda known the basic premise, but never really known who were the characters and such. Kinda cool, nice CGI effects, confusing plot though. And I saw it with my dad, so he tried to cover my eyes when the half-naked alien and lead male were making out. That messed it up a bit. :P. Also 15/20.
Then, about a month later, possibly the biggest eye-candy fest of the year, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The first one was/is one of my top action flicks ever, so I was expecting a lot from the sequel. But it was kinda a mixed bag. The plot? Well...it sucked. Like, really badly sucked. And so it seems that Michael Bay was trying to make up for the abysmal plot by throwing in gratuitous destruction, explosion after explosion, and HOT girl after HOT girl, and....it worked. One of the best films of the year. Reason? Three words: Transforming. Alien Robots. It doesn't get any better than that. 18/20.
Next month, the next installment of the Harry Potter series, the Half-Blood Prince. Loved the book, so the film had something to live up to. Better acting than most of the series, better directing, better everything (over the last couple ones, I mean). The third one is still king though. 16/20.
END OF MOVIE REVIEWS

In business at the mo. Designing the new $1000 note and $5 coin. Wow. I'm learning sooooo much from this experience.

Anyway...what else?

I can't make up my mind. Conflicting emotions, confusing emotions, all the same thing. I hate love. No, wait...I don't hate it...I hate the problems that come with it. :S


Hmmm....

Can't think of anything else. Just the usual. Will post again if any thing interesting comes up. :)

Boring. Yes. It. Is.

Wow, I havent posted in......about 10 days, and I think it's time that I gave my readers something to.....well, read.

So. I saw Monsters vs Aliens on Monday. The cinemas were packed. I guess it was because a) it was Easter Monday and b) it was pouring rain. Anyway, I give it 7.5/10. It was good, but not as good the golden masterpieces of Pixar.

Easter was good. Not much else to say, really.

I go back to school in five days. Yee ha, whoopie, wootness. (sarcasm alert)

I went rock climbing last week. Turns out I'm actually pretty good at it.

I'm going to Timezone tomorrow with Tim and Hayden. My one follower knows who him/they are, so I won't explain who they are.

So, not very much news. Oh, well. And I'm bored. Thought you'd oughta know :)

When will people learn; Democracy and computer programs don't work.

I found this talking program online, and it's meant to be a psycholigist. It's called Eliza. I tried it out, and here's how the convo went: (BTW, i don't actually bump into walls. just so you know.)

>> Hello.
How do you do. Please state your problem.
>> i can't stop bumping into walls.
How do you think that you can't stop bumping into walls ?
>> how do i think? don't you mean why?
Why do you ask ?
>> because i need help.
Is that the real reason ?
>> yes
You seem to be quite positive.
>> no, i'm not, because i keep bumping into walls.
Are you saying no just to be negative?
>> no
You are being a bit negative.
>> no i'm not,
You are being a bit negative.
>> yes
You are sure.
>> no
Why not ?
>> yes
I see.
>> no
Why 'no' ?
>> because i need help
Don't any other reasons come to mind ?
>> not really.
I'm not sure I understand you fully.
>> why should you? you're a computer.
Does that question interest you ?
>> no, why?
Are you saying no just to be negative?
>> i didn't say no
You say you didn't say no ?
>> yes
I understand.
>> that's good
Please go on.
>> umm....
What does that suggest to you ?
>> that i have no idea how to fill a gap in a conversation?
Can you elaborate on that ?
>> not anymore than i already have.
Do you say not anymore than you already have for some special reason ?
>> maybe
You don't seem quite certain.
>> that's because i'm not
Does that reason seem to explain anything else ?
>> i'm going to go now. you're not helping me.
Is it because you are going to go now that you came to me ?
>> no......
You are being a bit negative.
>> goodbye.
Goodbye. Thank you for talking to me.
>> you're weird.
What makes you think I am weird ?
>> bye
Goodbye. Thank you for talking to me.


It's very weird, and you can do it for youself here: http://www.chayden.net/eliza/Eliza.html

Revolutionary (again)

So, you remeber the short story I posted before? Well, that was the draft, and now this is/was the final. BTW, I got an A for it. My teacher (Mr bleep) finally gave them back. Pretty sweet. Anyway.....here you go.


The four grey, stone walls enclosed Pierre De Lèurs and created a sense of entrapment. Candles softly lit the small interrogation room. Pierre watched the flickering shadows dance across the ceiling as they illuminated his hard features. There were no windows to the outside world, so he could not tell the time of day.

The year was 1790. France was in a state of turmoil, after King Louis XVI was thrown out of the palace, and a revolution had begun. Pierre was in the thick of it, fully supporting the king and rebelling against the new regime, along with a few other supporters.
Pierre had been captured and taken to the new government’s headquarters in Paris. Now he was awaiting interrogation by one of the leaders of the new administration, a man named Goustav.

Pierre was snapped out of his trance by the sharp sound of a door opening and then slamming shut again. When he opened his dark green eyes he saw that Goustav, accompanied by two rough looking guards, had entered the room.
Goustav was strong, had a firm build, and was quite tall, which added to his frightening persona. If he was seen in a dark alley at night, most would run in the other direction. His threatening appearance helped to make sure that no-one stood against him for long.
The guards took their place at the back of the room just behind the bare wooden chair where Pierre was tightly bound with thick rope. The guards, who each had a black powder musket, were just within striking distance of Pierre.
Goustav stood in front of Pierre and stared him down. Pierre blinked first, and Goustav let out a chuckle.
“Pierre, is it?” questioned Goustav. “So you are the one who has been causing all the trouble?”
Pierre said nothing. Goustav glared at him with his deep brown eyes, and then signalled to the guards. One of them strode forward and swung the butt of his musket into Pierre’s head. It made contact with a crack.
Lights danced and popped in front of Pierre’s eyes. His head felt like it had been split in two. Blood dripped down from the large cut now imprinted onto Pierre’s skull and made his black hair become matted with the crimson liquid.
“When I ask you a question, you answer me,” said Goustav. “Or there will be consequences. Now, let us try this again. Where is the headquarters of the rebellion?”
Pierre’s head throbbed with pain. “Don’t know. Couldn’t tell you,” he answered.
Immediately the guards acted. One of them twisted the chair holding Pierre around to face themselves, then the other one punched Pierre in the stomach, again and again, until Goustav signalled for them to stop. The guards stood to attention and moved back to their places. Pierre tried to breathe, but couldn’t. The brutal blows had completely incapacitated him.
“Are you getting the picture now, young Pierre?” said Goustav menacingly. “You don’t talk, we hurt you. You do it enough, and we kill you.”
Pierre finally got his breath back and glowered at the vicious leader. He had no choice; he had to cooperate to some extent. But he was loyal to his allies, he would hopefully not succumb to the punishment and reveal where they were.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” said Goustav. “Where are the other radicals?”
“Places. Probably somewhere in France,” answered Pierre. His reply dripped with sarcasm.
Goustav tut-tutted. “Wrong answer.”
Once again the guards came forward; and this time they would not be gentle.



Pierre could hardly see. Both his eyes were now black, puffy and swollen. He thought he might have a broken elbow. Every part of his body was screaming in protest at the ruthless beating it had taken.
“Judging by your uncomfortable expression, you seem to be in pain.” Goustav’s observation was an understatement.
“I am going to make you an offer,” said Goustav. “And I would strongly advise that you accept it. You will accept it, or face death. And not by guillotine. Something slow, and painful. Very, very, painful.”
Pierre wasn’t in a position to argue. “What is it?”
“If you tell me everything, locations, people, records……I will let you go, and pretend that you were never part of the rebellion against this new regime.”
Pierre was torn. He was in a massive amount of pain, and wanted this to be over. But he didn’t want to betray his friends. He didn’t know what to do.
“You have thirty seconds to make up your mind.”

***

Four days later, Pierre walked down the concrete steps from the Bastille into a large stone-paved courtyard. Many hundreds of people were gathered around a sort of wooden stage. Except instead of actors, there was only a guillotine.
There was a man standing beside the menacing device with his hands tied behind his back. He gave Pierre a pleading look. Pierre turned away with shame.
Suddenly the crowd fell silent. Pierre heard the shrill shriek of the blade falling towards the man’s neck. A roar went up from the gathering. He was dead.
Goustav clapped his hand onto Pierre’s shoulder. He flinched. He hadn’t heard him walk up.
“You did the right thing, you know. No-one could have stood up against us for long. You did him a favour by making the end quick.” Goustav gave Pierre one final glance, then walked away. As the crowd slowly receded and left the courtyard, Pierre felt alone.
The general had said that he “did the right thing”.
Pierre wasn’t so sure.

They're not all like this, are they?

Guess what my English teacher did today and Monday? That's right, he didn't hand our assignments back to us. Again. ARRRGGGHH!! Apprently we're too "rude" and "offensive" when he's talking. Hmmm.....right. Seems to me that he's just stuck-up and wants every fibre of our being to pay attention to him every millisecond of the lesson. Well, I'm sorry Mr. *bleep* (name bleeped for security reasons), but that's NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN!

Obituary to Common Sense

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Aspirin, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a student; but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.
He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm a Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

The Week that Was

Okay...so, its been a while. Some stuff has happened, as always. Okay. Sooo...

Monday. Business assignment was due. Mine was not done/started, and the group presentation that was meant to go with it went down the drain as well, because, basically...I had no group. Hmmmm. Teacher said finish it by tomorrow and do the group presentation alone. Great..
Also handed in English assignment. I like short stories.

Tuesday. Business assignment handed in (yes, i did in fact finish/start it) and did the group powerpoint alone. not very fun.
Started to learn a couple of new songs on drum kit. Good fun.

Wednesday. Did some work on computers assignment. Video editing is cool.
Researched some ancient and foreign Gods for Christian Ed. I did Ra (ancient Egypt) and Vishnu (modern India). And I know what you're thinking. If CE is meant to learning about our God, why are learning about other gods? Don't have a clue. :P
Also had first training session for "Fitness". Basically fitness is if you didn't make it into a sport team, you get to go to a big Fitness First gym and train on Friday afternoons. Normal sport has after-school training on Weds, and I thought fitness would be exempt from that. But nooooo, we had it as well. :/ It was hard.

Thursday. Come to think of it, not much today.........Ooo, wait, I know. In English we were going to get our short stories back. I was looking forward to it. But then our teacher (I won't name them for security reasons) decided to be stuck-up and not give them to us, purely because someone in the class was writing while he was talking. WTF? Now we get them back tomorrow (as in Monday).

Friday. Double whammy today, forgot P.E swimming gear so got a blue slip detention, and then the very next lesson (Business) I get hit with another detention. Although, to be fair, my teacher was meant to give me that one a few days ago for not handing in my assignment in on time, but still....ouch. Handed in my SOSE booklet. Finished it at the last minute.
And had Fitness. It was alright, but not as fun as previous weeks.
But then a light at the end of the tunnel...YOUTH!!!! Went to Jay Stormonth's house and played volleyball, had steak/bacon/onion/sausage sandwiches (basically a vegetarian's worst nightmare), and played Halo 3 and Guitar Hero. Great night, aside from the bruises I now have from getting nipple-crippled. :D

And finally, yesterday, Saturday. Went to Robina and got Maccas for lunch, with a surprising event. Ordered a Double Cheeseburger meal, and instead got a Triple Cheeseburger meal, for the same price. Score! Then stayed up til 11.00 playing PlayStation 2 soccer with my dad. He beat me. Twice. :P

Okay, that's the wrap up for the week. You may now return to your normal lives. :D

I think its a bit too much

So...I have an account on Twitter. If you don't know that it is, then look it up on the everything website, Wikipedia. Anyway, I was looking around at random websites, and found out that there many sites devoted to things to do with it.
For example, there is a site called TweetStats, where you enter in your username and it gives you detailed graphs and figures on usage, most used words, where you've tweeted from, etc.
Another one is HappyTweets, which gives you a score based on your happiness in your tweets. This one's a little weird.

Anyway, I would list more, but I got to go. Check out more at http://www.deontee.com/47-top-twitter-sites-services-software-and-tips/.

Food. I need food.

I'm hungry. I need food. I'm gonna go get some. Right now.



(Don't worry, just another one of my posts which mean absoulutly nothing. :D)

Procrastination = Best. Word. Ever.

I haven't blogged in......oh, it must be about a week. Sorry to anyone who likes reading my brain. Which is basically what this blog is. Holy wow, thats weird.

Uh-huh. Right.

Anyway, I now have a new motto. Well, its not really a new motto, since I never had one before. Here it is:
Boo homework! Yay procrastination!

Ahhh....its so true. And I'm putting it into practice right now. I should be doing my SOSE. Because I'm only up to the third page. And there's like 18 in the booklet. I'm up crap creek on that one.
English...not so much, it's pretty much almost done and its due in a week and a bit. So I'm safe on that one.
Business. Ah. There's another problem. I've done two pages on it out of a possible....oh, lets say...eight. A title page and an intro. And that's it. IT'S JUST SO BORING!! But my lifesaver could just be a little website called Wikipedia. I love copy and paste. Although that's copyright infringement, and I can go to juvie for that (lol). So I won't copy and paste. I'll copy, paste, and change very slightly the wording. They'll never notice. :D

So that's it for now. I'll be back after these messages.

Actually there are no messages, I just wanted it to sound like a TV show. Pathetic, I know. Lol.

Oh, and Tim? Callin says she wants a honeymoon in Brazil.

Twilight: for readers who think having a plot was soooo last year....

To make this clear to anyone who have only just started to read this blog (and that will probably be all of 3 people), I DON'T LIKE TWILIGHT. Really don't like it. I won't go so far as to say I hate it......actually, I will go so far as to say I hate it.

So, for your enjoyment (or unenjoyment (if that's a word) depending on whether you agree with me or not) I will show a lovely short comic to illustrate why Twilight should not be called "literature".

http://antitwilight.deviantart.com/art/KellyNoel-Twilight-SUCKS-81082622

Oh, and for anyone who agrees with me, you can go here fro all your Twilight-sucking needs. http://twilightsucks.com/

Ah. Hmmm. Right. Ok.

I don't really know what to write, actually. Ummm....


Ummm....


Ah! I know!

Some little kids from up my street just called me an asshole. I was cracking up and they got really annoyed. It was soooooo funny. I don't really know why they called me an asshole. Meh. Kids don't make sense sometimes.
Lol.

Revolutionary

This is the first draft of my short story. You know? The one that I said was about street racing. Well, it's not anymore. It's set in the French Revolution in 1790. Main character is called Pierre De Leurs. But I won't give away any more. Here it is.



Revolutionary

By Matt


The four grey, stone walls enclosed Pierre De Lèurs. Candles softly lit the small interrogation room. Pierre watched the flickering shadows dance across the ceiling as they illuminated his hard features. There were no windows to the outside world, so he could not tell what time of day it was.

The year was 1790. France was in a state of turmoil, after King Louis XVI was thrown out of the palace, and a revolution had begun. Pierre was in the thick of it, fully supporting the king and rebelling against the new regime, along with a few other supporters.
Pierre had been captured and taken to the new government’s headquarters in Paris. Now he was awaiting interrogation by one of the leaders of the new administration, a man named Goustav.

Pierre was snapped out of his trance the sharp sound of a door opening and then slamming shut again. When he opened his dark green eyes he saw that Goustav, accompanied by two rough looking guards, had entered the room.
Goustav was strong, had a firm build, and was quite tall, which added to his frightening persona. If you saw him in a dark alley at night, you would run in the other direction. His appearance helped to make sure that no-one stood against him for long.
The guards took their place at the back of the room just behind the brae wooden chair where Pierre was tightly bound with thick rope. The guards, who each had a black powder musket, were just within striking distance of Pierre.
Goustav stood in front of Pierre and stared him down. Pierre blinked first, and Goustav let out a chuckle.
“Pierre, is it?” questioned Goustav. “So you are the one who has been causing all the trouble?”
Pierre said nothing. Goustav glared at him with his deep brown eyes, and then signalled to the guards. One of them strode forward and swung the butt of his musket into Pierre’s head. It made contact with a crack.
Lights danced and popped in front of Pierre’s eyes. His head felt like it had been split in two. Blood dripped down from the large cut now imprinted onto Pierre’s skull and made his black hair become matted with the crimson liquid.
“When I ask you a question, you answer me,” said Goustav. “Or there will be consequences. Now, let us try this again. Where is the headquarters of the rebellion?”
Pierre’s head throbbed with pain. “Don’t know. Couldn’t tell you,” he answered.
Immediately the guards acted. One of them twisted the chair holding Pierre around to face themselves, then the other one punched Pierre in the stomach, again and again, until Goustav signalled for them to stop. The guards stood to attention and moved back to their places.
Pierre tried to breathe, but couldn’t. The brutal blows had completely incapacitated him.
“Are you getting the picture now, young Pierre?” said Goustav menacingly. “You don’t talk, we hurt you. You do it enough, and we kill you.”
Pierre finally got his breath back and glowered at the vicious leader. He had no choice; he had to cooperate to some extent. But he was loyal to his other rebels, he would hopefully not succumb to the punishment and reveal where they were.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” said Goustav. “Where are the other radicals?”
“Places. Probably somewhere in France,” answered Pierre. His reply dripped with sarcasm.
Goustav tut-tutted. “Wrong answer.”
Once again the guards came forward; and this time they would not be gentle.



Pierre could hardly see. Both his eyes were now black, puffy and swollen. He thought he might have a broken elbow. Every part of his body was screaming in protest at the ruthless beating it had taken.
“Judging by your uncomfortable expression, you seem to be in pain.” Goustav’s observation was an understatement.
“I am going to make you an offer,” said Goustav. “And I would strongly advise that you accept it. You will accept it, or face death. And not by guillotine. Something slow, and painful. Very, very, painful.”
Pierre wasn’t in a position to argue. “What is it?”
“If you tell me everything, locations, people, records…I will let you go, and pretend that you were never part of the rebellion against this new regime.”
Pierre was torn. He was in a massive amount of pain, and wanted this to be over. But he didn’t want to betray his friends. He did not know what to do.
“You have thirty seconds to make up your mind.”




Four days later, Pierre walked down the concrete steps from the building he had been held in into a large courtyard. Many hundreds of people were gathered around a sort of wooden stage. Except instead of actors, there was only a guillotine.
There was a man standing on the scaffolding with his hands tied behind his back. He gave Pierre a pleading look. Pierre looked away with shame.
Suddenly the crowd went slient. Then he heard the shrill shriek of the blade falling towards the man’s neck. He was dead. A roar went up from the gathering. For them, this was entertainment.
Goustav clapped his hand onto Pierre’s shoulder. He flinched. He hadn’t heard him walk up.
“You did the right thing, you know. No-one could have stood up against us for long. You did him a favour by making the end quick.”
Goustav gave Pierre one final glance, then walked away. As the crowd slowly receded and left the courtyard, Pierre felt alone.
He did the right thing?
Pierre De Lèurs wasn’t so sure.





There you go. Did you like it? It's only a first draft, but I'm pretty happy with it. :)

Anyone who is a regular reader of this blog (and there will probably only be one person) will have realised that I have deleted 2 previous posts. I did this because they contained some sensitive information that, if it got spread around, would be the end of my social life as we know it. Basically social suicide.

P.S I'm also pissed. Firstly becuase it already got leaked. And second......Tim got an iPod Touch. Before me. I hate my life. (Not really. But at this second, yeah.)

It is official....

I have a new favourite song.

It's a cover of a Michael Jackson song, and I liked the original, but I love the cover.

It's "Beat It" by Fall Out Boy featuring John Mayer (he does a guitar solo in the middle). It's soooooo good. I'm listening to it right now actually. The solo is AWESOME!

Very good. Fantastic. Love it.

Ah. Right. Oops.

Maybe I should've. It sounds good.


No, I don't know what I'm talking about either. So tough luck. We're both stumped.

Crap. Crapola. Crap attack. Crappiness. (How many variations are there?)

Just one of those days. You know. A day that's not bad when you look at bits of it, but as a whole, yeah, it's pretty CRRRRAAAAPPP.

I won't go into the details, because there are none. It's just a big lump of crappy Monday. Yesiree, no doubt about it. (Where did that word come from?)

Oh, and monkeys. (I said it was only mostly not going to have monkeys, didn't I?)

Rules. I hate rules. Dammit.

So apparently, blogs are not for pouring out our feelings and thoughts onto the World Wide Web.

What are they for then? Monkeys?

I don't care. I'm going to post whatever I want.

But not monkeys.

Mostly.

Soon.

Soon I will be releasing my all-new action packed short story. About street racing.

It's for school.




Soon.

Why do I need a title anyway?

Just a couple of hours ago I saw Transporter 3 with Jason Statham. It's pretty good.





Maybe I should write something else.




Nah.

Apparently no-one cares

Apparently no-one cares about the world's ugliest cars. So I won't talk about them. Next post will NOT be about cars. Mostly.

I've been Touched

There have been many innovations of technology in my time (nearly 14 years). When I was born, the Internet was just getting started, when I was 4 the first iMac changed the computer world forever, when I was 6 the very first iPod came out. And now, there is a new revolution.

The iPod Touch.

I am so amazed at the amount of apps available for it. You can play air hockey, use a lightsaber, play drums, pop bubble wrap, train your brain, race a car, blow up stuff, and so much more. It is the coolest piece of tech around at the moment.

I want one.

This has got to be...

The worlds ugliest car: The Subaru B9 Tribeca. See it here: http://www.netcarshow.com/subaru/2006-b9_tribeca/1024x768/wallpaper_04.htm

Another contender could be the Ssangyong Rodius: http://www.netcarshow.com/ssangyong/2004-rodius/1024x768/wallpaper_03.htm

The Kia Soul. This has no soul, just like the devil, its also just as ugly:

http://www.netcarshow.com/kia/2010-soul/1024x768/wallpaper_04.htm

And the Chevrolet Aveo might not be the ugliest, but it it the worst designed. I mean look at the Chevvy badge just shoved between the grilles as a sort of afterthought.
http://www.netcarshow.com/chevrolet/2008-aveo/1024x768/wallpaper_05.htm

I never want to come within 50 km of any of these cars. They should be burned at the stake, and the designers should be tortured for creating such......minions of Satan. Why can't all cars be beautiful? It's not that hard. The worlds best looking car? Thats here of course: http://www.netcarshow.com/aston_martin/2009-db9/1024x768/wallpaper_02.htm

According to the government, there's nothing healthy about a tan

Swimming carnival was today. My house won (yay). But the only thing wrong.....is sunburn. I hate sunburn. I got some more today. There was no shortage of sunburn at the carnival, no-siree (where did that word come from?). The thing is, I'm really white. So I don't tan. I burn. Badly. So from a week or so I actually look darker, but then it peels, and I'm back to my usual self. Ugh.

I hate the sun.

(i dont actually, cause otherwise we'd be dead if there was no sun.....)

Swimming. The sport of men. Or not.

Ugh. I just rembered what's tomorrow. Swimming carnival. Ugh.

It's not that I don't like swimming.......actually come to think of it, it IS that I don't like swimming. Don't get me wrong, I love going to the beach and messing around in a backyard pool, but laps......no, thank you. Especially since my school makes swimming compulsory in Term 1 and 4. Term 4 is better cause its mainly Life saving, water polo, etc. But Term 1 is just laps. And more laps. And then even more. Ugh.
I only have to do freestyle for the carnival, but even then.......there's really only one word for it.

Ugh.

Can't think of a title...

Girls. A gender I will never understand. Let me explain.

Just yesterday I asked a girl out. Now, before you ask, she said no. But not like you're thinking. Anyway, I had liked her for a while, but she didn't like me.....not in that way anyway. So what I want to know is.....who the hell is a guy supposed to get a girlfriend? The odds of a girl liking you at the same time as you liking them is about 1,000 to 1. I'm thinking that it takes at least 10 girls before you find one that likes you back.
Also, if a girl does like you, she won't do anything about it. So you'll never know, you'll never get a chance to ask her out, so nothing will happen. ARRGGHH!!


High school is hard.

GLFIT

That's right, I am a God Loving Freaked-out Insecure Teenager, and loving it! Welcome to my blog, and this will be my random thought puddle. Get it? Got it? Good. :)