Sunday, January 15, 2012
Oh, internet. You do give me very bad ideas some times. I like it.
And with that, I hope you all have pleasant dreams.
Good night, loves.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The man on the moon stole from me what I never had.
The last few days, the moon has been intoxicatingly bright. I burned a few hours sitting outside staring at the thing, thinking of... well, absolutely nothing, to be honest. I seem to be pretty good at drawing blanks lately. Wonderful things, blanks.
I have no idea why, but somewhere near the edge of three in the morning last night / this morning, I started having this very peculiar feeling like the moon had taken something from me. Absurd as it was, I spent another hour trying to figure out what it might have been. The more I thought about it, the more perplexed and irritated I got. While amusing to say, I'm still kind of annoyed with the fact that I have the unnerving feeling like it's snatched something from me. It makes no sense.
The shiny ball in the sky stole one of my shinies.
I know it.
I dare say, my good chaps, that I've gone mad.
That thing that I own. The small thing that's currently black, has lots of little buttons with numbers on it? That thing that lets me talk to people? Yeah. That thing. I need to remember I actually own one of those things. I don't think I've touched it since early November or so, and that's being mildly generous. Needless to say, I annoyed the hell out of quite a great number of people. Only a few of them matter - if only because the mass majority of the vexed people wanted something from me - but it still seems a bad policy to forget that I own things.
The moon might steal them from me, and I'd never realize they were gone.
Bloody bastard. Simply because you're very, very shiny right now doesn't give you the right to steal my not-as-shiny things. Or thoughts. Or whatever snippets of a soul I probably stole from someone else. Or other things.
Bastard.
At any rate: I'm severely sorry for not responding to the princess or the puppy. Zack, whatever you needed you've probably solved on your own by now, so I don't feel so bad, and the mere idea of you not calling me if you weren't asking for something is outright adorable. So yeah. Suck it. Or some other figurative jester of bird-flipping.
Stuff.
With the very weird feeling that something of mine got stolen by a giant glowing rock in the sky, I destroyed my room, and found out that I owned one of those "phone" thingies. So... my bad.
-snort-
This is why I never bothered with buying one of the bloody things until not having one became too much of a pain. I think I'm one of the few men under the age of eighty - I am under the age of eighty, right? - who still wears a watch. Everyone I've talked to say that they never forget their phone because it's their new watch. Honestly, pulling a giant hunk of plastic out of my pocket and pushing a button so the screen lights up just to see the time seems like such a hassle when I can just glance at my wrist and be done with it.
Or badger someone else for the time.
That's way more fun.
It is odd that I prefer having a watch, though. That weird issue I have with not liking things around my wrists never went away. I should really considering getting a pocket watch. They look nifty to boot, and would make me feel like a snooty bastard. That sounds interesting.
Wait.
What's the difference between a pocket watch and a cell-phone at this point?
...
Well, shit.
Hm.
-glances up-
Note to self: No listening to celtic - or folk rock, since they sometimes blend together for me because I'm uncultured like that - music while typing. It tends to make me type out things that are even more bloody irrational and hyper-active than usual.
I'm not high, I swear.
-munches on left-over gingerbread zombies-
Good god these things are stale now. Granted, that's kind of appropriate, but... Bah to you! I shall drown you in choco-coffee as punishment! Graaaaaaaargh!
Aight. Think I've said everything I really needed to say.
It's in there somewhere. Probably.
I'll be a bit busy tomorrow. School starts up on Monday, but I scheduled my classes to only be on Monday and Wednesday because cramming everything in less days tends to work for me.
You know, since I don't procrastinate and waste the extra time I give myself on stressing myself out about all the work that I should be doing.
I'll probably give calling late Thursday or Friday a try. Assuming I'm not shanked by that one girl I really, really pissed off last semester. I thought it was cute of her to try and sick her boyfriend at me, because he fidgets around more than an elementary school-girl and didn't have the balls to even threaten my nerdy ass. Granted, the girl herself is pretty bloody scary. It's a shame she's such a vile bore; intimidating people are fun to keep around. They keep you on your toes, and I never feel bad about arguing with them for the sheer fun of having a heated argument.
Hm.
Yeah.
Gotta wake up early, so I'm gonna go pretend to sleep for a few hours, stay awake until four in the morning, and then actually sleep for two hours.
You know, the usual routine.
I've developed a temporary fascination with Blackmore's Night, so I shall give you one of the songs that may or may not have controlled the tempo of how I wrote this.
I is so easily effected by things.
Sad panda. D:
I have no idea why, but somewhere near the edge of three in the morning last night / this morning, I started having this very peculiar feeling like the moon had taken something from me. Absurd as it was, I spent another hour trying to figure out what it might have been. The more I thought about it, the more perplexed and irritated I got. While amusing to say, I'm still kind of annoyed with the fact that I have the unnerving feeling like it's snatched something from me. It makes no sense.
The shiny ball in the sky stole one of my shinies.
I know it.
I dare say, my good chaps, that I've gone mad.
That thing that I own. The small thing that's currently black, has lots of little buttons with numbers on it? That thing that lets me talk to people? Yeah. That thing. I need to remember I actually own one of those things. I don't think I've touched it since early November or so, and that's being mildly generous. Needless to say, I annoyed the hell out of quite a great number of people. Only a few of them matter - if only because the mass majority of the vexed people wanted something from me - but it still seems a bad policy to forget that I own things.
The moon might steal them from me, and I'd never realize they were gone.
Bloody bastard. Simply because you're very, very shiny right now doesn't give you the right to steal my not-as-shiny things. Or thoughts. Or whatever snippets of a soul I probably stole from someone else. Or other things.
Bastard.
At any rate: I'm severely sorry for not responding to the princess or the puppy. Zack, whatever you needed you've probably solved on your own by now, so I don't feel so bad, and the mere idea of you not calling me if you weren't asking for something is outright adorable. So yeah. Suck it. Or some other figurative jester of bird-flipping.
Stuff.
With the very weird feeling that something of mine got stolen by a giant glowing rock in the sky, I destroyed my room, and found out that I owned one of those "phone" thingies. So... my bad.
-snort-
This is why I never bothered with buying one of the bloody things until not having one became too much of a pain. I think I'm one of the few men under the age of eighty - I am under the age of eighty, right? - who still wears a watch. Everyone I've talked to say that they never forget their phone because it's their new watch. Honestly, pulling a giant hunk of plastic out of my pocket and pushing a button so the screen lights up just to see the time seems like such a hassle when I can just glance at my wrist and be done with it.
Or badger someone else for the time.
That's way more fun.
It is odd that I prefer having a watch, though. That weird issue I have with not liking things around my wrists never went away. I should really considering getting a pocket watch. They look nifty to boot, and would make me feel like a snooty bastard. That sounds interesting.
Wait.
What's the difference between a pocket watch and a cell-phone at this point?
...
Well, shit.
Hm.
-glances up-
Note to self: No listening to celtic - or folk rock, since they sometimes blend together for me because I'm uncultured like that - music while typing. It tends to make me type out things that are even more bloody irrational and hyper-active than usual.
I'm not high, I swear.
-munches on left-over gingerbread zombies-
Good god these things are stale now. Granted, that's kind of appropriate, but... Bah to you! I shall drown you in choco-coffee as punishment! Graaaaaaaargh!
Aight. Think I've said everything I really needed to say.
It's in there somewhere. Probably.
I'll be a bit busy tomorrow. School starts up on Monday, but I scheduled my classes to only be on Monday and Wednesday because cramming everything in less days tends to work for me.
You know, since I don't procrastinate and waste the extra time I give myself on stressing myself out about all the work that I should be doing.
I'll probably give calling late Thursday or Friday a try. Assuming I'm not shanked by that one girl I really, really pissed off last semester. I thought it was cute of her to try and sick her boyfriend at me, because he fidgets around more than an elementary school-girl and didn't have the balls to even threaten my nerdy ass. Granted, the girl herself is pretty bloody scary. It's a shame she's such a vile bore; intimidating people are fun to keep around. They keep you on your toes, and I never feel bad about arguing with them for the sheer fun of having a heated argument.
Hm.
Yeah.
Gotta wake up early, so I'm gonna go pretend to sleep for a few hours, stay awake until four in the morning, and then actually sleep for two hours.
You know, the usual routine.
I've developed a temporary fascination with Blackmore's Night, so I shall give you one of the songs that may or may not have controlled the tempo of how I wrote this.
I is so easily effected by things.
Sad panda. D:
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