If Only...

Ahhh...

You might not have guessed it now, but I have an odd thing about this font, Trebuchet. Odd fact, did you know that there is a unit in Age Of Empires II called the Trebuchet? Yes, it is a siege unit that is built at castles and have great damage and range abilities, yes. It is also....zzzzzzzzzz.... yeah Ga, your boring...

Yes, Trebuchet. It's like one of my most used fonts, joined with Verdana. They are like the ugly sisters from Cinderella, if they had plastic surgery. Comic Sans, on the other hand.... jeez... that's like the prostitute of typography. It's overused, overrated, and, like me, fucking ugly and soul-less. It's got less charisma than Gordon Brown. Now, that's saying something. Yet, it's popular with the kids. Maybe because it has the word "comic" in it. Ah well. What can I do about that?...

One thing that's confused me though, it's why have I started with talk of fonts. What sort of person does that? I mean, I have to get a life soon... man...

Actually, I think I'm going to end it soon. Such an eventful blog...

Well, on the theme of text and fonts, I've gots meself a new program. =). Texter, it is. It like changes the text you typed to a text you've already programed it to turn to with a simple press of the tab button. I mean, I spent like a good few hours typing in 'donkey' and then the tab button just to see the lyrics to Moon Chavs popping up each time. Ah, bliss.

Er... other news in the world of me?... Not really. Other than I STILL can't do a fully completed run of The Middle on Guitar Hero: World Tour. I mean, the verses, I'm fine. Chorus, I'm cool. The bloody solo, I start off like 'whey', but end up strumming too slow on the fast part. DAMN YOU RIGHT HAND OF SLOTH!! Yeah, I know I'm a tad sad. Though Pull Me Under is a slight let down in the last song category. I mean, GH2, Jordan's a bitch. DragonForce's song just took the piss. I failed both songs on expert, with my virtual bassist laughing at me. Pull Me Under, on the other hand, was piss. And this is from the person who has a touch-and-go thing with passing Sweet Home Alabama. Damn that last solo. But anyways. That's the first song I've ever gotten over 500,000 points for a song. Woot woot for me. Cocked up like mad on the solo, though 'twas too short of a solo for my liking. But, there's a shining beakon (if that's how you spell it) with one aspect of GH:WT....

If critics say 'there's no part of Guitar Hero nor Rock Band that will give positive results in real life'... they haven't had a good bang... on the drums.
I mean, let me say first that I'm no drummer on any music game. The hardest song I've done is... well Hot For Teacher on Expert... but properly it's like Beat It on Hard. Though now, I'm like slightly on a higher level than a total crapbag on real drums. It's kinda made me want to learn the drums now. Though for some reason I don't want to become a singer just because I can do No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn on Expert (even if there's a slightly loud fan next to me.... what?). I fail big time on vocals. Seriously, I can just about scrape a five star performance on Rebel Yell.... on Easy. EASY! Bloody holes of Satan's tearducts! Note to self, never sing, ever, and never try to make funny sentences anymore...

Right, that'll be me off. I see some bourbons with my name on it... ah, the joys of Sharpie pens...

Nacht. =)..

"I'm Playing With My Nipples..."

So.... it's been a while...

Can't remember (or be arsed to look at) the last post I, well... posted...

It's mid February (I always have trouble spelling that word...). And after the snow of last week, that stopped me from getting to school (stupidly, in my opinion), it's bloody half term. HALF BLOOMING TERM. And no, it's not so good I said it twice. It's like, wasting five days, when we should be studying for A-levels (well, on that week I was supposed to be on a skills course), Grrr. Ah well... still gots me EMA... =).

I suppose another good thing is that they cancelled the Eisteddfod this year in Rhydfelen, because of the snow stopping school. I'm rather glad that we managed to avoid making utter pillocks of ourselves (or should I say myself...) in front of the whole school. But then I think, ''balls, I've missed the chance of making an utter prick of myself...'' Ah well, there's always next year.

Well, the year's been alright (I suppose) so far. Nawt major (unless you consider me breaking the high-E string on my guitar as the biggest sin since sliced bread became an innuendo) happened so far. Bass's going well (much better than I thought). I can do Sweet Child O' Mine (woo), and the intro to Impulse (y'know, the one off GH3). And I'm getting better at using my fingers... take that what you will.... =). You know what I mean! Guitar's not that bad either. No blazing solos though, but that's not what I started guitar for. Playing the rhythm for 'Pretend We're Dead' is good enough for me. Oh yeah.

Oh yeah, got myself a laptop. Well, it's more like a 'blanket-top', as I'm in bed. But yeah. I'm officially mobile... in a way.

Work experience went well too. I've also wrote two pieces for thSprout.co.uk, though it's a website about events and news in Cardiff and I am a resident in RCT. But meh, it's practice for the RCT site I'd be helping out with. Have no idea when though. Oh yeah, and I've got Rock Band 2 now. Their version of 'Go Your Own Way' is shaite compared to GH:WT's. The outro solo is slightly on the amazing side, in my opinion. Yey, I have an opinion. And the outro is better on 'Livin' On A Prayer' on GH:WT. It's because it sounds like it should be that. Yeah... I know I'm odd.

Right, I'll be off. I have some tea I must consume before ManU foul another ram...

As they say on QI... "I will come in any trousers I like"....

Ah, that's nice....

So, The Burning Question....

Are you considered ambidextrous if you only have one hand?

I don't know. You can tell I've got a vivid way to get people to read my blogs. Considering I haven't done a blog for ages (if you don't consider the ones on Bebo, that's not a hint for you to read them, they're shaite).

Anyroad.

It's official.

At least well over half of America ACTUALLY has a brain.

Obama'll be the next president. It's all good. Now all we have to do is endure like a month more of Bush then we can make up crude jokes like 'finally America got rid of their Bush' or something like that. Yeah, I know. I'm crap at jokes.

But like, comparing Bush with Obama, it's like how the heck did Bush get in? Was it because some people sniggered at Bush's name (Yeah, George is a funny name). Or was it because he looks like the Superbowl trophy (bearing in mind I've never seen it, I've only seen computerized American Football)? Either way, he's going and we've finally got someone that we are not ashamed to take aliens to.

That aside, after choosing five subjects to study in A Level. I dropped one. (Shock horror).

Yep, Media Studies has died in my life. It was on the same interest level as the banks are these days (see? I watch the news. Bet your jealous now).

''And see how the camera zooms into her eyes? That shows the emotion that is shown on the actress's...'

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Sorry, That button got stuck then.

Anyroad, Still getting through Arth, Chemistry, Physics and Music Tech. 'Tis good. Apart from the fact Sarah keeps saying I suck at Chemistry........ damn her.....

And you can really tell I'm trying my hardest to think of something to write here so I can avoid doing art, right? Hehe.

Well, I suppose I may leave you to go on your merry way.

Au revoir, mon amis.

Dai Gi Bach.

''And now, a poem about men...''

Anticipation rained down on the audience of friends, family, the neighbors cat and a teddy called Felix. They, apart from the cat and the teddy, sat on the edge of their seats.

''BASTARDS!! BLOODY BASTARDS!!...''

Who knew she was not okay about her partner, going off with a transvestite?

Lavender, who was called 'Lavvey' by many a bully, was not the type of girl who bellowed 'bastard' every single minute of the day. Nearly seventeen, who knew her older boyfriend would ditch her in the toilet? As she ended her poem with a large scream, in which the word was a cockney slang for 'James Blunt', she ran out of the room, went upstairs and listened to the symphony of metal. This was also called Metalica by many.

''WHY DID HE BREAK MY HEART?!?! WHY!!!!??'', a scream shattered the deathly silence left by her in the front room.

'Well, it's a right shock to me, this is. Who'd've thought Lavvey had so much rage in her body?'' the grandmother thought out loud. ''I mean, it's not a type of thing not to be angry about, isn't it? I mean, if Charles here fancied the women with an extra bulge in their trousers, I'd be pretty pissed off too!!''

''Mother!''

''I'm only saying, love! Only saying! Well, Jesus Jane! You really take after my father, aye. He always talked posh like you. But me? Mother's girl, I am. Well, was. Dead now, isn't she? If only that ambulance didn't have to come out to the neighbors', to get that bugger Winston to the ol' folks home...''

''Mother! Can't you see dear Lavender is heartbroken? And all you can do is make light conversation?'' It was true, Jane was only like her mother in name alone. Though, it does get confusing when there are two people named Jane in the house.

''What do you expect me to do? Go out there, find Tim, and kick him in shitless?'' she stared at her daughter, then said, majestically ''I, am a retired woman. I deserve to be treated with respect. And that includes my opinions, right love?''

''Oh, mother!!''

''Don't you 'oh, mother' me!''

''Well'', Jane was improvising, she finally lost control of any sane conversation. ''I know! Michael! Do your speech your going to do about recycling batteries! You need the practice!'' The crowd, although not optimistic about hearing about the possibilities of batteries, preferred that to three hours of watching Gran's old videos in the butchers.

''Well, if I must...''. Michael walked to the front of the audience. He was the appendix of the family. He's there, but nobody really knows why. ''Ahem, ladies and gentlemen... and, Felix...''

Jane stumbled out of the room, rested her weary body on the chair lift, thinking on how her lovely, quirky daughter could turn out so posh.

''Did you know batteries are the servants of the technological world? They only do two things in life - they either live. OR THEY DIE...'' If anyone needed any proof on why Michael had an overactive imagination, this was it.

Jane, after thinking of what a weirdo Michael is, walked into poor Lavender's room, sat right beside the crying girl to comfort her.

''Hey, Lav. Don't cry, love. It's not that bad, this. You could've done a whole lot better than that, that Tim bloke!!''

''He said he loved me...' muttered Lavender into a shirt Tim had left one day after sleeping over there.

''Well, you can't trust men, can you? Can't trust anyone whose hair and eyebrows didn't match. You never caught a glimpse of his pubes, did you? I bet they didn't match either, that's what you get when you give your heart to a man named Tim''.

''I gave him my flower! He took my flower and shattered it to pieces!!''

''Is that what they call it these days...''

Lavender, sitting up on her bed, rested her head on her pillow as she looked, aimlessly through the window.

''Look, Lavvey. Remember the first time you went out with this Tim? I mentioned about all this shagging process, didn't I?''

Lavender chuckled. ''Mention it? I bet you made diagrams and all!''

''Well, I couldn't bring them over, couldn't I? You know what your mam's like. She thinks bondage is a way to make sure your tiles don't fall off the wall. But, let me tell you about Dai. Oh, yes. I called him Dai Gi Bach, y'know. Because his bollocks looked like two paw prints.'' Lavender's frown turned upside down, and gave a little giggle. ''Don't you laugh! Best buggering I ever had, from Dai Gi Bach! Pity he died. Would've liked to tug him off one more time before Death came, like...''

''GRAN!! How old are you??''

''Just because I'm nearly ninety eight, doesn't mean I can't suck a boy off like the rest of the slags on the street! Remember, Lav. I've been in three home-made movies, I have yes. But, oh. Dai Gi Bach was one shag to remember. Was Tim?''

''GRAN!!'' Lavender was really shocked. Whilst many grans will complain about how much bread has gone up, Jane would go on about teaching the whores in Cardiff how to give a proper one for more money. Lavender laughed at the question. ''He didn't, take my flower... he, sort of touched it...''

''Ah, a bit of fingering never hurt anyone! Well, apart from my cousin. Ah, she was a right harlot. She always did the spitroast at least twice a week. She even let my ol' boyfriend, Harry, park in her back alley! She was a right bitch...''

''What did you do, gran?'' Lavender was happier now, nobody can be upset when there's a gran like this around the place.

''Well, what can you do about it? Nothing. Apart from clamping nipple clamps onto her tits and connect them to an electricity pylon. She's a father now. Well, she was born a girl, then after the whole 'tit-to-electricity' thing, she turned into a man. Then, a year later, wanting to change back to womanhood, then another year later, she wanted to go back to a man! Typical woman!'' Lavender was in hysterics at this point. ''Oh, the real reason she had to turn back to a woman is because she got pregnant as a woman, all those spitroasts I expect. When she was giving birth, she was Steven, a bloke, like. Then, I remember being in the hospital, the doctors said to her ''the good news is, you have a healthy baby boy. The bad news is your cock has been blown off''.

Lavender, seemingly on a lifetime supply of laughing gas, composed herself, and looked into her wacky gran's eyes.

''You see, Lav. It doesn't matter what infertile thing that enters you. It's the fertile things you have to be weary of. I mean, God didn't put men on earth just to fuck constantly! Vibrators can't mow the lawn, you know. But, being serious now. Don't cry over him. It's his fault he'd rather a transvestite to a beautiful girl like you. Just be glad you don't have the cock. Must be a nightmare to run with that. I mean, if your boxers are loose, it'll be banging your legs all the time. And if that makes you have a hard one, then you'll be forever horny, wouldn't you?''

''Mother! I do not expect my daughter to hear about these things at such a young age!!'' Jane Junior eavesdropped on the conversation, thinking, but was upmost horrified at the mention of spitroasts. She was a vegan, after all. ''Lavender, come with me. Your salad's getting wet''.

''That's the only thing o'mine that WILL get wet for the moment...'' Lavender whispered to herself.

As they walked downstairs, Michael was finishing his second speech, and beginning his third.

''And that's how I will be the first person to touch MC Hammer. Next, I will give my theory on the man who invented fire...''