Monday, October 25, 2010
The Stories are getting old.
Hey Blogfreaks.
How are you? It's been such a long time since I last spoke to your pretty little cyberspaces. I won't bother making up matrices of excuses because we all know the reason I haven't blogged is because a) I've been a bit busy *COUGH* and b) because my internet is so very slow.
I'll try my best to make this blog make up for all the ways that I have been pathetic in the past.
Okay, so to first refresh your memory, my name is Steph. That's just in case you've forgotten my name.
I'm a big exaggerator. Most people have probably observed that already since they have most likely experienced my eccentricity (ahaha. no pun intended) at least a few times in their lifetimes. Now, I understand that most people will have gotten sick of this particular personality after these moments, but I have a lovely group of people that take advantage of this and consequently seduce and impregnate me, then dumping me for my ex lover. Now, some people will know what I'm talking about, some people won't, but my main point is that my life is about as boring, yet as crazy as nothing you've ever seen before.
Okay, so we've established that I'm a big drama queen.
I am also very very ambitious, meaning I don't tend to like getting beaten in superficial things, like games. I'm not to the extent that I would throw a tantrum and hate the winner for the rest of my lifetime, since that would be stupid. In school, this does not really occur in the form of "will to win", moreso competitiveness. Most people would have observed this at some point if they've ever been in my class, but I think it is in my nature since I used to be a competitive swimmer and all of it was drilled into me in early childhood. But, essentially, I would go to all extents to end up the winner in the long term.
So what is this all getting to? Well, now that we've established that I am an over ambitious drama queen, I'd like to tell you about a little game that seems to result in my exerting every ounce of energy and experiencing every degree of pain in order to win.
Okay, so you should know this game. It's called Last Hit. I'll attach the link here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nE1kpPtuO9s. I don't know if this is in the best quality or not, but what I DO know, is that it is one damn annoyingly dangerous game. I swear, this game is seriously as dangerous as depicted in the video above.
Mitchell will most likely agree with it. The function below is true for all variables.
S+LH = FLKM
where S is representative of Steph, LH is representative of Last Hit, and FLKM is representative of Flying Lethal Killing Machine. This is very much true for all occasions.
And since it has occurred so often, I have decided to report most incidents that something significant has occurred. So let's start with how it all began. Basically, what I remember is Jela and Mitchell going on a total touching rampage. At first, I saw it as something sus, but as I realised what it was, I guess I ended up joining in as well, and since I am an over ambitious drama queen, it suited character that I tended to overreact in situations.
So, I don't remember all occasions, but what I do remember is chasing Mitchell all around the place. I reckon that I've probably ran 2 kilometers in his pursuit. What I also remember is a lot, and I mean A LOT of bumping/pushing/swearing. Actually, in fact, with my big huge 10kg bag, I am pleased to report that I have bowled and consequently rendered infertile a whole group of TC's. *applauds* Yes, thank you guys, now considering that I have knocked most of them senseless, they are now uncapable of reproducing.
Okay, I'm very mean, but I'll get back to my ramble story.
Now, this leads to the event today at the bus way, when the evident lack of 130 busses consequently resulted in a mass stampede of 130 people desperate to get home. Unfortunately, I was one of them, though I was going to pump some gut at the gym. Now, Mitchell was also at the busway, and he thought it would be funny if he played last hit where I couldn't get him back. Now, being the over ambitious drama queen I am, naturally, this was not a good option, since I was consequently hitting Mitchell whilst trying to get onto the bus.
We all know what this is leading to.
Basically, I hit him, and tried to get on the bus, but failed getting on and consequently took myself and about half a dozen people out with me, well I think so. I know for a fact that I heard a few snide remarks. LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, I'M JUST GOING TO SUFFER WITH A LUMP THE SIZE OF A KNEECAP ON MY SHIN. Well, I'm over exaggerating again, but it still freaking hurt, and I DO have a lump on my kneecap. So all humiliated and stuff, I moved up the bus, where I saw darling Natalie, who told me that my blouse button was so conveniently open. This consequently caused me to automatically wonder who had seen my scandelously exposed middle area, and for exactly how long it had been like that (consequently the thought that multiple people with whom I communicated with previously were probably too embarrassed to mention that my button was open, probably since they were guys).
This leads me to my last complaint of this evening. School Blouses. Now, I know my male audience won't know what it's like to wear these pieces of shit, nor will they understand what it's like to have a big chest. No doubt, they are also feeling awkward at this very moment in time, but this is about as awkward as it comes. So, when men design these blouses, they also fail to consider the fact that some people have such an ill proportioned body, that a shirt that is the right length, may not be the right width. The people at school always say "Yeah, guys, our uniforms are awesome, wear them properly." But how can we, when they often forget that the female population mostly have some sort of chest size, which is often troublesome when they have to wear blouses designed for boys.
Just saying.
Okay, so although I cannot upload ALL the great pics I took, I'll upload the two that I had ready for the last time I was about to blog.
How are you? It's been such a long time since I last spoke to your pretty little cyberspaces. I won't bother making up matrices of excuses because we all know the reason I haven't blogged is because a) I've been a bit busy *COUGH* and b) because my internet is so very slow.
I'll try my best to make this blog make up for all the ways that I have been pathetic in the past.
Okay, so to first refresh your memory, my name is Steph. That's just in case you've forgotten my name.
I'm a big exaggerator. Most people have probably observed that already since they have most likely experienced my eccentricity (ahaha. no pun intended) at least a few times in their lifetimes. Now, I understand that most people will have gotten sick of this particular personality after these moments, but I have a lovely group of people that take advantage of this and consequently seduce and impregnate me, then dumping me for my ex lover. Now, some people will know what I'm talking about, some people won't, but my main point is that my life is about as boring, yet as crazy as nothing you've ever seen before.
Okay, so we've established that I'm a big drama queen.
I am also very very ambitious, meaning I don't tend to like getting beaten in superficial things, like games. I'm not to the extent that I would throw a tantrum and hate the winner for the rest of my lifetime, since that would be stupid. In school, this does not really occur in the form of "will to win", moreso competitiveness. Most people would have observed this at some point if they've ever been in my class, but I think it is in my nature since I used to be a competitive swimmer and all of it was drilled into me in early childhood. But, essentially, I would go to all extents to end up the winner in the long term.
So what is this all getting to? Well, now that we've established that I am an over ambitious drama queen, I'd like to tell you about a little game that seems to result in my exerting every ounce of energy and experiencing every degree of pain in order to win.
Okay, so you should know this game. It's called Last Hit. I'll attach the link here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nE1kpPtuO9s. I don't know if this is in the best quality or not, but what I DO know, is that it is one damn annoyingly dangerous game. I swear, this game is seriously as dangerous as depicted in the video above.
Mitchell will most likely agree with it. The function below is true for all variables.
S+LH = FLKM
where S is representative of Steph, LH is representative of Last Hit, and FLKM is representative of Flying Lethal Killing Machine. This is very much true for all occasions.
And since it has occurred so often, I have decided to report most incidents that something significant has occurred. So let's start with how it all began. Basically, what I remember is Jela and Mitchell going on a total touching rampage. At first, I saw it as something sus, but as I realised what it was, I guess I ended up joining in as well, and since I am an over ambitious drama queen, it suited character that I tended to overreact in situations.
So, I don't remember all occasions, but what I do remember is chasing Mitchell all around the place. I reckon that I've probably ran 2 kilometers in his pursuit. What I also remember is a lot, and I mean A LOT of bumping/pushing/swearing. Actually, in fact, with my big huge 10kg bag, I am pleased to report that I have bowled and consequently rendered infertile a whole group of TC's. *applauds* Yes, thank you guys, now considering that I have knocked most of them senseless, they are now uncapable of reproducing.
Okay, I'm very mean, but I'll get back to my ramble story.
Now, this leads to the event today at the bus way, when the evident lack of 130 busses consequently resulted in a mass stampede of 130 people desperate to get home. Unfortunately, I was one of them, though I was going to pump some gut at the gym. Now, Mitchell was also at the busway, and he thought it would be funny if he played last hit where I couldn't get him back. Now, being the over ambitious drama queen I am, naturally, this was not a good option, since I was consequently hitting Mitchell whilst trying to get onto the bus.
We all know what this is leading to.
Basically, I hit him, and tried to get on the bus, but failed getting on and consequently took myself and about half a dozen people out with me, well I think so. I know for a fact that I heard a few snide remarks. LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, I'M JUST GOING TO SUFFER WITH A LUMP THE SIZE OF A KNEECAP ON MY SHIN. Well, I'm over exaggerating again, but it still freaking hurt, and I DO have a lump on my kneecap. So all humiliated and stuff, I moved up the bus, where I saw darling Natalie, who told me that my blouse button was so conveniently open. This consequently caused me to automatically wonder who had seen my scandelously exposed middle area, and for exactly how long it had been like that (consequently the thought that multiple people with whom I communicated with previously were probably too embarrassed to mention that my button was open, probably since they were guys).
This leads me to my last complaint of this evening. School Blouses. Now, I know my male audience won't know what it's like to wear these pieces of shit, nor will they understand what it's like to have a big chest. No doubt, they are also feeling awkward at this very moment in time, but this is about as awkward as it comes. So, when men design these blouses, they also fail to consider the fact that some people have such an ill proportioned body, that a shirt that is the right length, may not be the right width. The people at school always say "Yeah, guys, our uniforms are awesome, wear them properly." But how can we, when they often forget that the female population mostly have some sort of chest size, which is often troublesome when they have to wear blouses designed for boys.
Just saying.
Okay, so although I cannot upload ALL the great pics I took, I'll upload the two that I had ready for the last time I was about to blog.
In time of darkness, colour can get us through
It's intrigue is what gives us hope
I hope you enjoyed
Steph