A note to a few certain people.

THE WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND YOU. One thing that's really pissing me off at the moment is other people thinking that the world revolves around them, when clearly it only revolves around ME.
A few certain people need to realise that they can't expect others to do things for them or be there for them if they're just going to stuff them around. Not only should they not expect so much, they should also learn to appreciate it.

Life would be so much easier if everyone acted the way I wanted them to! At the very least, a sense of common decency is acceptable.

That's all I have to say.

The under-achieving nerd.

A nerd's life is a busy life- even though it is bereft of any social interaction, there is always another essay to do. There is always a conference, or an extra study session, or an assembly to speak at. And, for a certain breed of nerd (which fortunately is not inclusive of myself), a sizeable amount of time is dedicated to gaming.

Recently after a spate of missed classes due to the school production (which, sadly but fortunately, is over), I found myself struggling to grasp concepts and stay on top of the pithy workload assigned. Today I missed even more classes to attend an SRC conference, which was very insightful... while that may be a slight exaggeration, there was cake, which makes it worthwhile. In any case, I have found myself descend to being an "under-achieving nerd". And, unsurprisingly, it is quite a widespread phenomenon.

Many nerds like to be involved and vehemently grasp any opportunity given, just for the sake of experience. Areas such as theatre are dominated by those of nerd breed, and while others are just if not more than as capable; nerds are generally willing to put in effort and time commitment. The only problem occurs when there is no more time to be committed to one's primary responsibilities!

In my subdued rant so far, I have neglected to mention what is the most striking feature of the under-achieving nerd kind: nobody cares. While others may be slapped with detentions and reprimands for being unreliable, we are not censured and our misgivings are easily forgotten by those in a position to notice.

Isn't education brilliant?

Grrrr

Not yesterday, but the day before - Thursday it was- I had a really bad day. Like a ridiculous amount of things went wrong, such as almost getting run over by an obnoxious woman in a four wheel drive; and several buses not arriving resulting in my having to stand in the rain; and walking straight into a wet tree. In fact I can count seventeen different things that went wrong. It was truly fantastic. I tried to blog about it, since my best blogs are produced when I am angry, but by 10 p.m. I was even too angry for that. I sat in front of the computer numbly, dosed up on painkillers, and found myself unable to construct any coherent sentences. All that seemed to emerge was a string of profanities that stubbornly wouldn't form themselves into a delightful blog entry. So, I decided that perhaps I would try again the next day, which was yesterday.
Yesterday was a significant improvement upon its predecessor- despite still being in a foul mood about the seventeen incidents of the day before, it had been long enough for me to be able to laugh about, particularly the story about the pizza delivery man who freakishly whistled and shimmied at me.

Yesterday started out fine- nothing of note really happened, let alone anything as traumatising as Thursday. So why didn't I blog yesterday?
BECAUSE MY COMPUTER DIDN'T WORK.

As if enough bad things hadn't already happened! Luckily my poor baby computer came home today, although it is not fixed and periodically freezes. And the computer man cannot seem to extricate the virus it has, so it is stuck this way.

Fantastic.

Fishiiiiiieeeeeee shhhhooooeeeessssss!!!

Sometimes, it is just impossible to live without something. Not in the way that it is necessary to your immediate physical wellbeing, for example breathing apparatus for someone with lung problems- no, this is much more important than any life sustaining devices.

It is the complexities of the human mind and our extended thinking abilities that separate us from the animals. That, and opposable thumbs. Consequentially, our mental wellbeing should be prized over any physical ailments and should be considered far more important to uphold. Happiness is key to retaining a healthy psyche. And there is one thing that I will never be happy without, the want for which is all-consuming and dominates every fibre of my being. Of course, it is the impressive shoes shown above.

A cure for the crippling trauma I am currently enduring can be purchased for just $200- a small price to pay in the scheme of things. Despite its diminutive cost, everything would work out better if someone else paid. It would be like charity for a spoiled brat! You get the warm fuzzy feeling from giving, and I get awesome shoes. Win-win. You can't refuse this lucrative offer.

The underwear people are lying to us.

Catalogues are one of the most delightful things to ever be dropped in my orange-brick eyesore letterbox- far preferable than bank statements, bills and letters from school. It is then perplexing to learn that the glossy catalogues, boasting made-in-China homewares and socks at 20% off, lie. These catalogue-mongerers abuse my misplaced trust in shameless consumerism by presenting products being utilised in manners unheard of in the everyday life of a disgustingly overweight geek with an abundance of unwanted hair.

To convincingly pull off a lie, one must insert a morsel of truth. Don't be fooled by the apparent normalness of the delightfully domestic folded towels available in burgundy, avocado, sunflower and aquamarine- they are not lying to you. Nor are the stainless steel kitchen appliance or double page spread of children's DVDs. By the time you have reached the underwear page, you have been well and truly taken in by the unexceptional, commonplace depictions of products. The wool has been pulled so far over your eyes, that you fail the notice the utter ridiculousness of the advertisements for undies.

Might I point out:
Girls do not smile broadly and bump hips with each other whilst wearing checkered boy-shorts.
Girls do not dance around with badly feigned enthusiasm in brightly coloured bras.
Girls do not have what appear to be in-depth conversations while standing awkwardly in cottontails of a bygone era. Girls do not stand in a row and pout seductively whilst wearing disgusting underwear sets that their grandmothers would approve of.

And whilst we're on the topic, girls do not clutch pillows in a half-arsed attempt to have a pillow fight whilst wearing pyjamas adorned with a retro cartoon character of choice.

The catalogue people are filthy liars. It's a conspiracy!

Self-censorship.

I am very agitated right now. There are many things I could blog about. Like, JUST BECAUSE IT'S NOT HAPPENING TO YOU, DOESN'T MEAN IT DOESN'T EXIST. And, DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO LIKE YOU KNOW BETTER, BECAUSE YOU DON'T. Or, GET SOME BIGGER PROBLEMS. Especially, STOP ACTING LIKE MY TIME IS DISPOSABLE, BECAUSE CONTRARY TO WHAT YOU THINK, I DON'T SIT ON MY ARSE PLAYING COMPUTER GAMES ALL DAY.

Unfortunately, I can't elaborate on any of these insightful topics because the people they are directed to, will read them, since they are exclusively the people who read these words. Look at some of the capitalized messages above. If you are reading this, chances are at least one of them applies to you.

In short, I am too gutless to face the possiblity of blogging about something worth reading, so as usual, this is a crap entry from a talentless writer. That is all.

Wait no, one more thing, I just painted my nails and now the back of my neck is really itchy, but I can't scratch it because I have wet nails. Life is so hard.

I love Farmville!

After an entire week and no new posts, I feel that I owe an apology or at least a pithy excuse to proffer to my invisible readership. While under normal circumstances, I would cite my chronic laziness as being responsible for this lack of initiative, there is a more sinister and cute reason behind it: Farmville.

For the unenlightened, Farmville is a Facebook app in which you can grow your own virtual crops and progress through levels based on the amount of experience points you have. The crops, once planted, ripen over a period ranging from two hours to several days depending on the species. If they are not harvested within a period of time equal to the amount of time it takes them to ripen, they wilt and the farmer loses the crop. It is a welcome distraction from the cesspool of boredom and excessive photos that is Facebook- however it has now become so much more than that, to me at least. It is a way of life. Every morning before school I go on the computer to harvest my crops that have sprung overnight and germinate new ones. Farmville is all I talk about.

The best part about Farmville is that squares of harvested land can be distributed wherever you deign to put them. I made my farm into a giant penis with pink cherry trees as pubes, and little fuzzy sheep as jizz. This way, once I have run out of crops to harvest, I can sit and look and laugh at my epic farm.

Farmville is plagued by the existence of its rival, Farmtown. I am ashamed to say that I have a Farmtown, however this was only to investigate the app in contrast to Farmtown, which is far cuter. Although, on Farmtown, my farm is crafted to resemble boobs, which is also entertaining.

As you can imagine, I have been very busy attending to my crops. But, it is time to get back to the nerd life, start blogging again, keep studying and plant crops that don't need to be tended to as often.