I'm Winning so FUCK YOU HAMLET

A recent peruse of the ol' blogoshpere (what we "bloggers" call the local blogging community) revealed very few posts. In fact the only people that seem to remember this is still happening is Vanessa, Miles and I. Together we, an unlikely trio made only stronger by the burden of being cool have managed to type shitty stories for almost a month. Booyah. Lesser men, namely anyone who isn't man enough to blog frequently, would have quit by now. Which they did. That is why they are lesser men. 'nuff said. I shall now go on to publicly list these inferior humans so that the public might ridicule them incessantly. Jamie. Lewis. Max. That's actually kind of it. We're not the biggest of gangs. But yeah since I'm one of the few still doing this shit I figured I should get a reward. I was considering various forms of lewd sexual acts and the losers close family members but in the end decided against it. So for winning I'm going to make myself some brownies and ice cream. All the other winners should feel free to do so but be sure not to share any with the lesser ones. Nor should they be spoken to.

Winrar out

Studying Is Not As Fun As Kids In Text Books Make It Out To Be

First things first I think the title of this post would make a great band name. They would play a mix of acid jazz and rap. Shit'd be pretty damn cash. But I digress that is not why I'm here. The true reason is because I've been studying all morning, with the exception of my previous post, and have grown tired of pretending to give a shit. As a result I am going to explain, in great depth, how I just made my delicious Bacon/Egg Sandwich.

First I went to the fridge to see what there was to eat. Upon inspection I found that egg, bacon and bagels were all in rather plentiful supply. I grabbed all that shit and set to cooking. First I put a good six or seven slices of bacon in a pan. In another pan was three eggs. I cooked both to a delicious done-ness and then sprinkled some random herbs and shit on them to make that crap classy. Then I let the bacon fry to a delicious finale whilst I placed cheese on top of all the eggs and allowed it to melt over them. By this point I had three bagels out and lightly toasted so I put the eggs with cheese and bacon on them. Then I came over here and prepared to eat them. About two bites into my first one I realized two things. One: I had left the burner on and the fridge open. I didn't see this as too big a problem because the two should just cancel each other out. It's science. The second thing was that I wasn't actually hungry so I stopped eating and fed two and a half bacon egg cheese bagel's too my dumb dog. She is now lying on the couch groaning in pleasure and sleeping off what must be like two million dog calories.

Well that story sucked. I guess the only other thing to say is that we're almost done with school. The other fact of this is that my birthday is over break. The other fact is I want to hang out with friends and toats chill on a designated day used to signify my triumph like eighteen medical problems with my birth. Up yours god medicine will kick your ass any day. Bitch.

The point of this was I kind of came to a decision. I will probably be holding a chill sesh on June 25th (the saturday after we get out of school). This will be to celebrate my triumph over science and medicine in what people called "the second birth of Jesus". I may or may not have started the rumor but hey, who you gonna believe? There is going to be no set thingy just basically a wear shitty clothes cuz theres a pool and ima pushabitch init. Also prior to the party I'm gonna load up my walking wallet of a mother and go to every $2 shop in melbourne (or the equivalent thereof) and buy foam swords, inflatable pool toys and tonnes of bouncy balls. were gonna have ourselves a massive calvin-ball game.

Since there's actually only like three people who read this thing that will be in the right country this is really a shout out to them. Also Vanessa because FUCK YOU for not inviting me to your party. Lewis. Your coming. Max. Your coming. Jamie. Your coming. Sven (follower). Your coming.

 AAAAAAAAAMEN

In which I discuss the aspects of my magic wishing tree

Okay I guess y'all are hankerin to hear about my exam update. I have had two of six (Business Management and English) and both all right. Now is the time that, in my head, cheers begin to erupt from the previously stony silent audience. What was once a still but slightly shifting crowd throws up its hands and order collapses as chants are hurled at me from all corners of the stadium. Children are thrown into the air and caught again as beaming people turn and hug one another as a Mexican wave flies all around the stadium. Banners are hurled down from the higher podiums and seven jets scream above, flying in formation and leaving a trail of glittered exhaust behind them. Over the twelve foot speakers music begins to play from all corners of the world. The only thing they have in common is that they are all victory songs. From the side entrances beneath the seats tribes of Maui warriors leap then form into a war dance that sparks even greater applause.

Now don't be too impressed because this happens in my mind after pretty much everything, from eating some ice cream to not falling down the stairs. It's an ego thing, I didn't ask for it but it is nice. Anyway onto the only other thing that has happened which is of any interest. Jammels' play.

All right so last night I went to see my cousins play and to be  honest I was really impressed. The whole choreography, music and singing was all pretty top grade. Also no one forgot their lines which, while good for the play, was a bit of a disappointment. It's always good for a giggle. But over all the whole thing was worth watching. If it were still on I'd implore any body reading to go watch it but I'm pretty sure the entire cast is still wasted following the after party and isn't really in the right set of mind to perform a rather intense drama. As for individual cast. I only recognized three, Jamie, George (whose name I had to look up but I knew I recognized him) and Erica (Who I'll admit had to be pointed out to me. I'm thick like that don't nobody take offence). All three did notably well in the roles of creepy christian asshole (I hope thats what you were going for since that's the vibe I got) somewhat dopey guard (god I hope this was the vibe not the actor) and factory girl (I won't put any adjectives here lest Jamie decides to punch me in the face. Which has not happened yet but I'm sure I have deserved.)

But yeah If Jamie ever gets over his weed and alcohol induced haze I'd like to tell you that you did a really good job and good luck in the next one. It best be as bitchin as the two I've seen have been.

David OUT

Exams

This next two weeks are probably not going to be "littered" with posts in the most accurate sense of the word. Rather one would more likely use the word "barren" or "desolate'. This is due to mid year exams (shut up America) and it has been implied that 'studying' is recommended. Whatever. Anyway the positive aspect of this all is that, while you wont be able to read any of my witty posts, you wont have to suffer through any of LeSac/Max's. HA I keed I keed.

On another note this whole text based format is a massive pain in the ass and I'm looking into switching to an audio format. For one thing I much prefer talking to writing, which feels far too much like work, and I think it would provide better material. Hopefully I'll be able to do a podcastesque deal on a weekly basis or so.

Allright back to learning.

Toodles

David Naylor

Okay so a recent Google Image search has once again not shown up my picture. This is unacceptable. My first plan was to put my name on a picture but then I realise that the hairy-old men that follow me around will just have greater ease in their hunt. And I'm trying to make their rape a bit more exciting than the standard facebook, find, gas, bag & enjoy kind of set up they have. Anyway I settled on a bit of a warning that I'll send out to those bastards. Of course if they just check were the picture comes from it reveals my blog, containing my name, picture and location. Ah well, watcha gonna do? Other than not post your personal information on the internet. Cuz its just too fun to stop.

The file name is "David Naylor" so if everything goes to plan this is what should show up if you google image search my name. :D

:update: it doesn't show up which is a real bitch. In fact my picture from the blog shows up (on like page 7) but this doesn't. I suppose there's a chance that there's a timer before Google Images upload there shit but for now its a failure... awwww maaaaan

Rule 34 Idea/Brainstorm

Stupid Max says that blogs about music 'aren't real blogs'... What an ass-hat. Ah well I kinda don't have anything else left to talk about so I might fall back on story and writing topics. Now my cousin (Jammels) actually "writes" and this is a dedication I do not share and frankly find a little absurd. I mean come on. The point of great  ideas is to have them, vow to do them, then get bored and pretend they never existed. I excel at this but Jamie seems to have really cocked up the second two and keeps on churning out "decent novels"and "well written stories". I mean come on. If he's not going to play the game properly then he shouldn't play at all.

Anyway since I excel at all THREE and figured I might whack another part of the rule on here. This will involve me putting up ideas here so you can bask in its glory and fawn over it's magnificence. I've had a couple over the years and a few that I even started writing. These ones got the point of a lot of detail and frankly would be a pain in the ass to post all of it. Suffice to say they were pretty hot stuff and they may or may not have been able to cure cancer. Also they could. But that's for another day. This one is kind of sci-fi so don't hate me from the beginning, although it should be noted I don't actually "like" science-fiction much, if at all really, with the exception of Doctor Who (which is hot shit) and the occasional book that wasn't written by a forty year old living in his parents basement, writing around his throbbing erection at every mention of the word "laser" and "photon setting".

 Anyway onto plot and shit.

Largely set in an alternate universe. Same basic weapons and technology with the exception of much larger focus on space travel and whatnot. Now I don't know much about evolution but if I know anything its that this is exactly how it works. Spontaneous evolution in the form of various "powers" and mutations.

Now these powers aren't those that are normally used. There is very little that could be called "helpful"in battle, learning or most anything else. They take the form of being able to store mild electrical currents, the ability to control one's own body heat within about 10 degrees Celsius (too much or little and you start losing brain cells) and so on and so forth. These mutations are held from birth, and can not (at this stage) be replicated or given to other people.

The general public has no idea that these mutations exist. They go about there daily lives without the knowledge that around them, bull-shit evolution is taking place. However, the government is very much aware. As of the moment I haven't decided yet but I am leaning towards a unified earth government (complete with common language and writing style). Anyway, the government has enacted "Rule 34" which allows them to hold any person with what are deemed odd physical, mental, spiritual or any other form of traits for an amount of time required. This rule was passed under the pretence of locking down on alien's who live amongst humans. It was passed with very little complaint and is now used by the government to secure any children, or adults, who show these mutations.

The whole world and power has a lot more information that can go into it but I'll spend some time on characters now and if I ever feel like it I'll do a follow up blog.

The novel would follow a group of people who banded together after the destruction of earth (oh yeah that happens. Did I not mention that? sorry). These people would largely come from the Institution for Advanced Human Development. IE mutants. As far as specific characters the main is an as of yet unnamed male who possesses the power of mild regeneration. This is not the kind of regenaration that allows oneself to jump off buildings or ram pike's up their ass. In fact it wouldn't help noticeably with a paper cut. It only displays itself in an almost double rate of healing from physical wounds.

This character (who we can call John to make this easier) enters the Institution late, around early 20's. This is because most pickups are from doctor's who notice something peculiar and report it in a medical journal or something that gets picked up by the government agents in place to watch for this. John, since he has rapid healing, rarely had to see a doctor. When he did there was nothing noticeable and he was bandaged up and, when it came up he was healed. Technically he had healed a good few days prior to the bandage coming off but the doctor's simply acknowledged the healthy limb and didn't bother checking up on him.

Another important character is kid with the ability to camouflage himself. The action takes approximately fifteen minutes to complete and does nothing spectacular. The child is still clearly seen, only he seems to be covered in paint of whatever colour he is standing in front of. This child (Ben) has been here since around birth. His parents realized there was something odd and brought him to the doctor. The doctor was thrilled with the discovery and promptly wrote a paper that was caught by agents of the government and Ben was taken. Ben has lived at the institution all his life and serves as a guide to John during his stay.

Anyway that's it for now I have other loose ideas (chick with scales etc.) but nothing solid. Truth be told I only had this idea today on my walk to school and then gave it a bit of mass on the walk back.

Anyway TOODLES!

Musical Masterpiece

Last night I had the unfathomable pleasure of seeing a performance by a rather large group of untrained orphans. Now they did a rather good job of disguising the poor childrens various disorders and sheep like qualities but, in truth, I am rather smart and saw straight through their cunning plan. The night started at 6:45 when I found out that apparently my brother was in a concert playing the cello and I was to be dragged along to see it. The next 15 minutes I'm not proud of as I begged and wailed, gnashing my teeth together and tearing paintings and pictures from the wall. Eventually my mother resorted to her usual threat and punishment which was no food for a month and a few quick lashings with the old whip. 

I realised the error of my ways after looking down the barrel of two weeks without food or water and one of them to be spent in the box. I quickly went to my room and bandaged myself up smartish before tossing on various clothes that suited the occasion, IE: Tophat, monocle, coat (complete with tails), britches,  smart black shoes with shining buckles and a brand new timepiece I'd picked up in the West Indies. My Aunt and Uncle arrived shortly after, which allowed us a short respite from the verbal battering we were all receiving at the hands of our mother, and the seven of us piled into the five of us piled into the four seater car and proceeded off to a night of musical entertainment.

Finding a car park was rather easy once my mother set her sights on one a good four or five blocks from the theatre in which our performance would take place. We all picked up our coat-tails,cocked our respective top hats at a jaunty angle and set off on our hike to the end destination. Upon our arrival I checked my timepiece and found, to my intense dislike, that we were on time. Looks like I was going to get the whole performance.

We pushed our way through the invisible throng of people to the entrance to the seating area. There stood an elderly man who glanced at the tickets and handed us a single sheet of paper, on which the proceedings were laid out. It was worth its weight in gold. We fell upon it, snapping at one another and invoking the wraths of various ancient gods in an attempt to see how long it was that we would have to stay here. Eventually it was taken up by a certain noble gentleman, myself, and the proceedings were read. There were to be four songs performed by the string orchestra, followed by four songs performed by the choir. Then another four songs by the junior orchestra and then another three by another string orchestra, we were assured they were made up of different musicians as the first group. 

A few of us burst into tears at the formidable line up but we had to remain strong. There were seats to be found. Through watering eyes I surveyed the seats and spied a comfortable spot at the far back, it avoided the light and looked like a nice spot for a snooze in between, and during, songs. Apparently this was not acceptable and my mother shuffled us towards a set of seats in the middle of the masses and swathed in bright artificial light. Once seated I took the remaining five minutes to survey the audience. Most were rather ill dressed peasants, not a top hat in sight, and a few looked rather pale as they read over the pamphlet describing the night's events. There were a few excitable looking parents, probably first timers, who hadn't realized what they had signed up for when the wife first squeezed a screaming carbon mass from her womb. These parents had brought video cameras and grand parents along. The video cameras lit up their faces as they looked eagerly into the wings and waved excitably whenever a child, they didn't seem to care whose it was, poked its greasy head out of the curtains. The grand parents merely slumped into their seats and proceeded to slowly die. I rather thought I could associate with them quite nicely.

Unfortunately, before I could reach for the cyanide pill I have always kept with me since I a particularly horrid fourth grade concert, a tired looking teacher dragged himself onto the stage. His hair was slightly ruffled and his tie was undone, revealing his buttons, which had been done up in the wrong order. He proceeded to thank various parents and institutions in a monotone voice that lulled me into an ever deeper slumber. Eventually he wandered off the stage and, as my mind descended into pleasant darkness a sharp squealing sound could be heard.

I jerked up right, assuming the worst, and glanced left and right, attempting to spy the poor bird which had been trapped inside the stifling room. There was no multicoloured pigeons, but I did spy an awfully daunting set of children already in place and playing some horrible song. Strings were hit with something that they thought resembled a beat, and violins were scraped with shocking ferocity. this continued for far too long and I took to naming the children by a combination of racial slurs and mocking physical features. For the most part these are far too inappropriate to be printed on this page but rest assured they did the job and I was able to pass the time until the final chord was wailed out and the conductor collapsed onto the stage in tears. He was carried off by a crew of old women who rather resembled gremlins and order was restored to the masses of snotty children as they dragged their instruments off stage. After the crew of children had finally left the stage they were replaced by yet another group of children who proceeded to belt out rather horrible songs in a combination of breaking voices and monotone wailing. It was all pretty standard until the third song rolled around. At this point the conductor gave a rather conspiratorial wink to the children and they all started making hand motions.

My mouth agape I gazed out on the swaying mass of flailing limbs and belted harmony's. I shut my jaw but had to hold it still in order to stop myself from laughing. In order to restrain myself I took to looking through the crowd and spot the most dysfunctional child. It was a three-way draw. On the right hand side, of the front row, was a child who tended to gaze around at the awnings and ceiling, rather than sing, and opened his mouth in terrific yawns whenever he spotted an interesting looking roof tile. Three rows behind him was another kid who would fling his arms out at every chance and exaggerated every motion to the point of pummelling the two children who stood on either side of him. One of them, a skinny little kid with long black hair was constantly hit and moved steadily towards the edge of the benches where, it was my constant hope, he almost fell off into the drum set just below him.

 I wiled away about half of a song dreaming of the loud crash and shriek that would accompany the boy's descent into the set of tom-toms and cymbals. But alas it did not happen and I spent the last song watching my third member of the tie.This member was a short-rotund little girl with thick glasses and cropped hair. She gazed around the room with a toothy grin and consistently clapped off beat. The only thing this choir seemed to be able to do was clap on beat so you would hear a loud clap after every line of yankee doodle or whatever they were singing, followed by a singular slap, as the girl wacked her meaty fists together and grinned stubbornly at the conductor. 

The rest of the performance passes with little incident, only a stoned drummer and repeat affair of the horrid string group was heard, and I rather think my eardrums burst at some point, which provided me with a delightful respite. On the ride home, now complete with another member to join the clown car, I happily listened to the buzzing my ears was picking up and humming along to one of the songs that, against my will, had cemented itself in my mind. Once home I hung up my coat, put anticeptic on my whip wounds and collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

<> 

Longest post yet?

Longest post yet. 

Aaaaawww shit

1453 words :D