.: A little taste of obscurity :.

:: Thursday, June 28, 2007 ::

can you at least warn me if you’re being sarcastic?

It fucking annoys me when more than half the population I share the air, water, roads and Internet with are a bunch of fucking morons with half the IQ of a saucepan. And even more of them have less purpose than a 2-dollar store porcelain cherub with the face of Death, hand-painted by a short-sighted, Parkinson's disease-ridden, boar-faced woman who was always cast as a rock in high school plays.

If you don't know something, fucking go and find out. We're not in the damn day and age where you have to cycle 20 kilometres to the nearest library to borrow a book and risk having to pay a fine of 2 newborns if your tyre busts on the due date. In case you're still trying to figure out whether FallenAngel^22 is really 22 years old or not, then let me introduce you to a site:

Why didn't my parents abort me?

You motherfuckers have the Internet in front of your fucking ugly faces nearly every moment that you're unfairly allowed to breathe. Instead of asking me random shit like whether birds fly south during the winter or not, or whether you'll get pregnant if you have sex upside down wearing a clown costume whilst thinking of yong tau foo, or why you can't marry your palm, go research on the Internet.

And while you're figuring out how to navigate to places other than pink coloured blogs or Friendster or cartoon porn, know how to fucking distinguish between what is true and not.

OMG U MEAN D INTERNET HAV LIES?!!

Yes, it's true. When your online friend KrazyKandy said how you look doesn't matter, she, no wait, he, obviously hasn't seen your face. When your Mom told you that you were special, she was drunk or just wanted you to go away. When your boyfriend saw that hot chick walk past and he said, "She's pretty lah, but not my type", he probably either knew he looked like a crustacean, or he just wanted you to put that hole in your face to better use.

When you don't have the capacity to understand that the Internet is made up of billions of people's opinions, then you really ought to die choking on a bowl of tau foo fah whilst Stevie Wonder looks on at you puzzled wondering which stupid moron can't even eat tau foo fah without dying. And then he stuffs a spoonful into his nose.

One idiot may claim that Norah Jones makes 'awesome jazz music' and another might say she sounds like knives scraping against plates, interspersed with the bawls of ugly babies and sounds of Paris Hilton having dirty sex with David Hasselhoff. While yet another might put up photos of her boyfriend wearing her hairband wtf.

Learn not to take everything as the fucking truth, unless you're still 18. Otherwise, keep it up: feed on what people say, worship it and go fucking ballistic when someone says something different. Then get defensive and threaten to cut yourself.

(Leroy, if you're 18 or turning 19 or whatever, you're still my favourite underaged chef wtf wtf)

That's the same for blogs. Whatever character that person perceives to be, could possibly just be your geeky little brother sneaking in to use the computer late at night. Some stupid random emo poem you read on a blog may not be written for you or him or her or Gaban, it could've been written with Mr. T in mind. So next time when you read something like this you'll know who it's written for:

Wind-up smile
Played it cool
A never ending mile
I pity the fool

Like whatever I say here could possibly be bullshit, except it's not.

:: Another pointless rambling at 12:45pm ::