Ok, I planned this to be a fortnightly thing, but at the moment I'm kinda bored at home, so I thought I might give you another to play with.
I didn't know then but I do now...
That the string on a party popper will not burn like a wick, and then "pop" when it reaches the base. I also found out that melted plastic all over your legs is painful. This is what happens when you give a boy a packet of matches...
Oh! I have another!
I didn't know then but I do now...
That the speed limit on the Princes Freeway to Geelong was 100km/h; not 110km/h. It's a Freeway, it's wide, and it's safe. Make it 120km/h! One hundred and forty-two dollars and one demerit point later...
Side note: How many do P-platers have anyway?
So for Christmas I got this little pack of "Party Conversation Starters" from Kikki-K. If you haven't seen them yet, or have no idea what they're about, I intend to use them, right here on my blog. They're little "finish the sentence" things. Quite simply, I intend them to be a way to learn a little bit more about me and a way to ensure I have regular blog posts this year (stop laughing). Feel free to also answer the question, either in the comments section, or on Facebook (like most of you already do).
Something I did well yesterday...
Was make an idiot of myself going "Rawr, rawr, rawr" everytime someone pointed out the shark on my arm, or I found an object I could make him look like he was eating. Rawr, rawr, rawr...
Right, I have three random, or not so random, things to put here:
First;
An Appeals court has ordered a retrial for a group of artists who hacked into a national television weather broadcast to show a fake nuclear explosion in the Czech mountains.Members of the Prage-based Ztohoven art group admitted tempering with equipment at the public broadcaster Czech Television so viewers watching a live panoramic shot of the Krkonose, or Giant Mountains, in June last year saw a flash of bright light and a fiery mushroom cloud.
Seven artists were acquitted of spreading false information in March, but the state prosecutor appealed the verdict.
That really gets nothing but a massive awesome from me. Could you imagine replacing the Channel Seven's picture of the sun for a mushroom cloud on the forecast map? Oh yeah, I think I've found a goal in life...
Second, my horoscope for the day, courtesy of the mX;
Despite arguing your case well, someone else is determined to have the last word.
Once you have spoken, allow others to absorb the information over a period of time.
Battles must be chosen carefully tomorrow.
Heh... I purposely withhold any comment on that...
Finally; I did this all while chroming. Apparently people like it...
So how many people have noticed a lot of my posts arriving on Tuesdays? It's probably because Tuesday is blog-post day!! Or more likely it's cause I'm in Physics lecture... I can listen and type at the same time... Really... Stop laughing, it's true!
Why are you posting this crap James? What's the purpose of this post?
Tell you the truth – I haven't figured it out yet... The title isn't even filled in yet...
Maybe I could just point out something I've noticed this month; like every single Wednesday, Thursday and Friday have been flat-out busy days. I've got up early, and gone to bed late, and been doing things all the time in the middle. This last week of May is no exception to the rule...
Speaking of last weeks, it's the last week of studies here at RMIT before we start SWOT VAC, then exams; so a lot of lecturers are wrapping things up or frantically trying to cram it in. While at the start of May my entire June was planned to be empty, except for four days with exams; it's now also packed, with exams interrupted by work, lots of work. This will be nice – because work equals money which can be directly converted to petrol, the quantity of which is inversely proportional to how much work I do. In other words, I'm working so I can fill up my car and get to work. The left over 5c I'll take with me on my trip away at the end of June.
Am I exaggerating? Not really. I just put $120 in my wallet to fill up my car this afternoon, and Tuesdays are (relatively) cheap and my car uses less petrol than a lawnmower. Which is definitely a good thing – my next car will be a Hybrid or something else eco-friendly, even if more expensive, and regardless of how much less power I'll get. I'm not interested in having a powerful, beefy (manly?) car if it means I'll need to take out a loan just to pay for petrol.
And who pours oil onto glass nowadays (see? I can pay attention to my Physics lecture)? Yes, I know that it's only theoretical, and yes I know we're using it to figure out the wavelength of light; but there are better ways of doing it than glass, oil, a ruler and a protractor.
It's amazing how little stationary you need for uni – all I have is one pen and a sharpie (which is only here cause you'll never know when you might need one). Maybe it's just cause I'm doing engineering, and it's all either on the computer (MAT-ha-LAB) or written in a lab book (consistent eights, interrupted by a nine, anyone?).
Well, if I ramble any longer then I'll be left here in the room alone after everyone leaves. Yes, it took me a whole hour to write all that. I'm slow and writing, and even when I know what I want to say, the words only dribble out. If I write fast then usually every other word is completely unrelated to the first, and sentences would just sound really shotty... Ok, maybe that one already did... Sigh...
Keep in touch people, hearing from you is always great; especially when I need the break from staring at my programming like a shit-chucking ape.
Or so everyone keeps telling me...
I woke up this morning and I did feel older, but I suppose I'm supposed to feel that every morning... Maybe it was the new shirt I wore... I donno...
So I called for the nurse to bring me my walking frame and I wandered out to the park to feed the ducks pieces of stale bread all day... Please remind me to buy more bread; I'll forget if someone doesn't remind me... Similar to phone calls – I would have called if I was reminded (if I managed how to figure out how to press the buttons in the first place).
What was I talking about? Oh that's right... I'm old...
I mean nineteen is the last of the teens; isn't that a scary thought... That means I'm almost dead!!! Quick, drink more alcohol to make sure the liver dies first!!! And doesn't nineteen just seem like the "forgotten age?" We see movies where the main character is a teenager and they're always eighteen... Never nineteen... How sad...
Also, I've decided it's a very bad idea to let Harry lick you: he eats poo... I see Afrika taking a crap and next moment the crap is gone with Harry standing over it, doing the whole "yay I've found something to eat" thing... No wonder Harry craps twice as much as Afrika...
Oh right... It's my birthday... You don't want to hear about dog crap...
Ok, seriously, there's not that much to tell about my birthday this year; I'm nineteen, it's a "forgotten age," remember? Of course you don't remember, you're almost as senile as I am!
And the post date and time is significant by the way...
To the development department, particularly the people specialising in the creation of Chickens, Turkeys and other birds that we eat:
I recently purchased a quarter chicken and chips for a dinner time meal from my local chicken shop. The chips were in ample proportion but that really has nothing to do with your department. I am writing to question the amount of meat that was in my quarter chicken.
I do not believe this to be the fault of the chicken shop, the piece of meat sold to me was clearly a quarter of a chicken. They had even provided me with the leg piece, notorious for having more meat than the wings. Even so, upon consumption, a mere two mouthfuls of meat were available.
Granted, the time it took me to find and eat these minor portions took the same amount of time it takes to eat a full three course meal in a fancy restaurant, but that was due to the difficulty in removing the food from the bone.
This raises my next grievance, the difficulty that people worldwide suffer with removing meat from chicken. It hides between bones, between gristle and in cartilage. This is clearly a manufacturing and development error in your behalf, as the development team for cows, pigs and most other food managed to please their consumers with easy to cut, easy to find, large portions of meat. I have never encountered difficulty in finding one whole mouthful of meat from a cow and their development team has my full regards. From your team there has been a countless number of times I have spent fifteen minutes cutting out multiple small sections of meat to make a mouthful, only to find that there is bone or cartilage in my mouth.
To be fair, you have correctly addressed the flavour of your product, as many other developments teams are attempting to copy your excellent work (The escargot team for example) and I do not wish for this desirable nature of chicken to change. I do wish, however, for you to address the issues described above. A possible suggestion as to how to address this problem could be to make the chickens larger, about seven feet tall should do it, which would create larger portions of uninterrupted meat.
Thank you for your time in pursuing this issue.
Me: "Hey, could I get a large seafood?"
Shopkeeper: "No problem"
*Sits and waits, reads magazine in front of him*
Shortly afterwards,
Random Female: "Excuse me?"
Me: "Hi!"
"Could I ask you a question?"
"No problem"
"But, uh... this is sorta a personal question. Is that okay?"
"Sure!"
"I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, it's just that y'know"
"Okay"
"Well, uh... this is gonna sound a little weird but..."
"Mmmhmmm..."
"I, er, um... I'm having a few self esteem problems and uh,"
"Mmmm..."
"I was sorta wondering... do you think I'm pretty?"
*I lean back in chair, contemplating the correct answer*
"Yes."
"Oh okay"
*Brief pause, random female goes back to facing the wall, I go back to reading magazine (good article on HD-DVD)*
Random female: "What makes you say that?"
Me: "Well, you do have quite a pretty face, I'm not lying. You obviously put some effort into your appearance which means that you care about the way that you look. Some girls don't put any effort at all in, and it doesn't quite work for them. And some try too hard, and you can't see their face and who they really are. I don't like to look at faces so much as what's behind the face and what the people I'm looking at believe in and their ideals."
"Yeah, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
"True, and you can't judge a book by its cover. You need to see the beauty on the inside as well..."
*Random female absorbs this*
"Could you do be a favour?"
"Uh, sure!"
"Could you tell me I'm pretty?"
"You are, you're pretty."
"No, just say 'you're pretty!'"
"You're very pretty."
"No I mean like, just 'you're pretty!'"
"You're pretty!"
"Thanks."
*Random female faces the wall again, I go back to the article (Dated July 2006...) *
Random female: "What would it mean if a guy refused to answer?"
*I lean back in chair again, connecting large quantities of information"
Me: "You've clearly had a guy refuse to answer that question to you recently, but I don't think you need to worry, you are quite pretty!"
"Yes, but what would it mean?"
"Well, it could be that he didn't understand the question; or that he was confused as to what to compare you to, or in what context; or it could be he doesn't want to tell you what he really thinks."
"Confused?"
"Yeah, when you asked me if I thought you were pretty, I could have given you a completely different answer, it all depends on what I compare you to. If for example I had decided to compare you to a super-model, then I wouldn't have called you pretty; and if I had decided to compare you to someone not so desirable, then I would have been over-enthusiastic in my response. I decided to compare you to the Australian population as whole, which I believe to be an adequate comparison."
"Ohh..."
"The problem with guys and that question is that we have trouble picking who to compare you with. Trying to pick someone to compare you with when there are three billion people in the world is not an easy task, most guys can't handle that."
*Information sinking in, my eyes are starting to wander back to the magazine again*
"So how old are you?"
*I'm thinking that by now she's going to want my number or something, but the simple 'I have someone special (very special) in my life' will save me*
"Eighteen"
"Oh good, I didn't want to be asking that question to someone young"
"Mmmm..."
"It's just that he confuses me sometimes..."
"I know."
"...and he never quite understands..."
"Yeah"
"I just wish he would pay more attention."
"It seems to be a running theme amongst men."
"So what do you think it was? Lack of understanding, confusion or didn't want to answer?"
*I think to myself: ">Removed - Too detailed for female readers<
Me: "Confusion"
Random female: "Thanks so much" *pause* "Could you tell me I'm pretty again?"
"You're very pretty!"
"No, just I'm pretty"
"You're pretty"
Shopkeeper: "Large seafood?"
Me: "That's me!"
*I get up, take pizza, about to leave*
Random female: "One more time please, it feels good to hear it"
"You're pretty"
"Thank you so much for helping me"
"Anytime! It was good meeting you"
"You too, I'll see you around"
*Shakes hands (what else was I supposed to do? Hug her? I don't know where she's been???) and leaves*
And that was my random pizza shop experience...
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