Winning on All Fronts, Dirtbag and BlogBear

1. Some chick was in line at a petrol station. There was a man in front of her who was being served and the guy behind the counter was clearly having some trouble, he was all like "ahh shit, ahh, maaaan, I'm so sorry aye, ah shit" and then the guy in line goes "nah you're alright... for a FUCKHEAD"


2. Chemistry today-

Dirtbag: ...probs for $500

Person X: You could die!!!

Dirtbag: Teacher X, what would happen if I drank this solution of calcium carbonate, fertilizer, magnesium nitrate and sulphuric acid?

Teacher X: You'd die a slow and painful death

Dirtbag: Yeh $500


3. There are a good 7 or so girls in my year who find another girl really hot for her resemblance to a guy. What the fuck. I died with laughter. Apparently I need to get over the fact that she's a girl and succumb to her true attractiveness?! These girls couldn't stop staring at her, claiming "oh my god, her facial bone structure is perfect" and "her arms are so nice and muscly"


4. The test-tube story.
A girl in year nine a few years ago at a different school was in science and saw a test-tube for all its falic-goodness and smuggled it home for some pleasure time later. Already, what the fuck. In her bedroom masturbating with a test-tube inside of her, the chick's mom came in and so she quickly closed her legs and the test-tube shattered inside of her. She had to go to hospital.


5. I tried to explain the test-tube story to two french exchange students today because i was really sick of them just being annoying at school and seeming unimpressed with everything.

Dirtbag: La Fille [put] un [test-tube] dans elle Chat!!! Et elle mere ahhhhhh alors est [broke] dans elle. Elle aller au l'hosptal. Elle etait [masturbating]!!!

French girls were unimpressed

Dirtbag: Yeh well, va te faire foutre


6. Lit teacher laughing at his computer screen while he no doubt wrote super hilarious emails.
Please note: I received two emails from him in response to the same email, as in i sent him my essay and he replied my email twice, ten minutes apart, because you know what, he'd thought of a way funnier thing to say than what he wrote first. Ohh he thinks he's being so fucking sneaky and really hilarious too. Yeh, he's a joke. Also he just HAD to reply to BlogBear's email of "Here you go, at 5.03am" with "actaully at 5.04". and so in the true nature of petty, BlogBear, having been provoked, replied with a screan shot of her sent items clearly stating that it was sent at 5.03. Grow up ManChild!!


Life has been funny lately. I mean rolling on the ground, unable to breath funny.
Let's further spread the laughter with...

Simile of the post: She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs

P.S. I should probably just stick to French insults (cause that'll be hell good in my examsss).
P.P.S. We can even dye your eyes to match your gown. Uh-huh

Food For Thought

I house a truly rewarding talent but it's only for my benefaction, sadly.
I wish everyone could experience what i do, multiple times a day. It isn't easy though. It's not as though I simply click my fingers and bam, pleasure. Uh-uh. Actually about a year ago it was like that, it simply came to me, and each time I'd worry that this time it'd be the last of my effortless bliss however the trend continued for over 3 months, but I guess the fluke season had to end and it served me well as, what I interpreted as, a gift from the universe, a token of appreciation, for my appreciation. Skill my friend. I am the master of last bites.


Believe me, I wish to roll out my tongue and you walk the red carpet to a sensory satisfaction.

Love gun

Today I learnt that each ejaculation contains about 250 million sperms, so the lesson kids is be careful where you point your gun!



Look how they are hunting the egg. No wonder men dominate.

I love your stinkin' guts

Deaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar God,

I love that the one time I wished for something it became true.
Too bad I didn't promise anythaaang.
Yes it is 4.57am and I have had no sleep, why you may ask, because sleep is for the weak!
I might go for a swim in my pond now, I might go for a nude run and steal my neighbours paper. Theres no other reason but because I fucking can!! Yeah thats right, I started and finished this essay tonight, theres nothing we can't do.
I repeat, I just finished my english literature essay before I got mother fucked by the mental institution they call school.

This is what we call Blogbear and Dirtbag winning at life.
1519 words. Yeah nic ta mere.
I love God.

Rash

Last night I witnessed a certain somebody who got "mad fucked up".
On their knees on the bathroom floor licking beer off of broken glass.

Fact. I love it when logic goes out the door and is replaced by the irrational via the path of alcohol.
Fact. I love him/her becoming irrational.

Hail Hail

I swear i'll love you till the day i die... and beyond

Dearest Perth

You are our sin, our soul.

We're madly in love with you and it's not because of your brains or your personality. It's because you're beautiful, inside and out. You've got this kind of fucked up face but perhaps an amazing body, i'm not sure how to put it. We love your nooks and crannys; the crook in your elbow. Heres some evidence to those fuckers who have fallen out of love with you.

shut up with the if, and/or buts!!! love perth for what it is.

Today marked the day of this birds death, it's wing span imprinted on the window it mistakenly flew into. It was presumably dead since it had fallen two stories down but after close inspection we realised its small body was slowly rising. So we figured we might as well chose its death bed, may you rest in peace. This death was much more... lets say delicate than the others we have seen in the past. Once a couple years past we noticed similiar wingspan marks on a window except this time its guts were splattered around. Bye Bye Birdie.

Your sins come form your groundings and your soul lies in your city, atleast for these two love-fools.

Lit. up

Another solemn school day brings another tedious english lit essay.
This round its romantic poetry next round it'll be an essay on the humourous take on racial discrimination..
Time to talk shit, time to lie, time to scrape the barrel that i call my brain.
By Thursday i will need to have written 1500 words worth.

(Spot the crappy lit. pun)

Off to Meet Some Dark Lords. Big Ones. Full of Sperm

In the hopes of distracting myself from the emptiness of our consumer driven lives i thought i'd do a little blogging. But on what? i've done nothing but (now let me try and put this descretely) chill by the river, take baths and get caught in the rain. I'm the mother fucking aqaurius queen, the water bearer which close to a twelth of the population could have stamped on their hip.

Today marks the last day of holidays. School, how do i loathe thee, let me count the ways...

whatever.

Today's also the day that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldridge first landed on the moon forty years ago. The 21st in the USA, beating the russians to tha moon and the australians through time (see it's the 20th today, duh). Let's hope that tomorow's return to education sees me overcoming my across-the-board failings and maybe i'll be the social recluse to come out of hiding in forty years time... rather than in 2 years time giving birth and saying, "I'm a crack-whore who should have made my skeazy boyfriend wear a condom"

anyways, i'm going. He who cannot be named (voldermort!!!!) just rang asking i come round with an open bottle of wine. OOOH dark lord!!! Who needs affection when I have his blind hatred. Hittin the drink can only mean one thing- next post: HARRY POTTER FAN FICTION.
This wizard's off the go tame tha shrew, if ya know what i mean.

My name is

Just finished watching A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. 

This film made me ache a little.

Girls in short skirts, guys in dirt shirts. What more do you need?

Hey my name is Diane and I like to fuck. 

Hey my name is Jenny and everybody in this place is a fucking joke. 

My name is Nerf and this shit sucks.

I'm Guiseppe, Antonio's brother. 

I'm Laurie... and everybody's going to leave me. I know they are. 

I'm a fucking piece of shit. And that's who I am. 

Pretty much my favourite two minutes in the film: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XtP0T3uiME

Last Night's Party

So you wake up the morning after a party, you've got unexplainable wounds et cetera but what's one thing you're bound to do. Check your shit.

Go through your belongings to realize your wallet and glasses are missing. Not sunglasses, no I mean your spectacles. When your mother finds out.. she's going to so be angry and you're gonna be busted -best said like an american teen. You drop a few texts and a friends got your wallet, God knows why or how but its safe. Now you're thinking who the fuck would steal your glasses. Are they also short sighted but too embarrassed to admit it so they go to parties lurking for spectacles? Well damn, they hit the jackpot. Those glasses were as innocent as a prepubescent boy.

See the idea I have in my head is a guy we shall name tortured-mystery-spectacle-stealing boy. He just wants to fit in and he also happens to look exactly like Teddy from Stand By Me. No need for google, you've got me babe.

See by day he looks like this: (Kid on the left) He acts tough and cool what with unkept hair.

By night he looks like this:

To be fair you've probably just misplaced your glasses so you'll end up being the douchebag. Either way there's someone out there that has to go to bed knowing that they are an idiot. Your glasses will probably turn up and this blog woulda been a waste.. but hey for now you can wear those buy one get one free pair.

P.S. This story also works if you replace the right words with I and my.

So long, farewell

I have deleted my Myspace. In realization that it is essentially a waste of time and it's unhealthy I swear. Myspace is like a child. People warn you not to get one except you don't listen, you think you'll be different but give it some time and you'll slowly lose your innocence. You will wake up one morning and realise you are a whore to myspace and you just don't know where your life has gone. So when you go to delete it, its like killing your baby and they're looking into your eyes saying "Do you really want to do this?". Sitting in your chair you just want to hold it and say "Please Tom, give me a few more minutes". Then bam, your babies dead.

One day you're just 13, the next day you're sucking Tom's dick. So have your Myspace baby, and eat it too- the placenta, yeah it hurts so good. Oh Annie, I don't know if the sun'll come out tomorrow. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little.


P.S. I got my report today and all I can say is: epic fail.

Who cares for

cleanliness when you have dirt, clothing when you have nudity, death when you have life, cheap wine when you have heavy liqour, lust when you have love, lies when you have truth, complaints when you have humour, violence when you have peace, day when you have night, work when you have leisure, education when you have expeirence, meaningless when you have significance. The timeless question, what does it matter?

Whatcha carin' for CareBear?

We're on Crack Tonight

Question everything... or not

I opened my itunes and so opened that window box thing which does when you put in a cd. It reads: Do you want to import the CD onto your music library?

Ha but tonight i read it as: Why do you want to import the CD onto your music library?

And i kinda was like"woah, okay, why? cause.... i... like.. music" and sat, staring as my screen. It felt really weird and still, like on the verge of an awakening or something. I reckon i tilted my head or at least grew a heavy brow. I mean, a computer questioning your motives, especially something like wanting to listen to a cd, it's a shock and leaves you wondering. I mean, i like music, what else can i say?

But then i re-read it and had a good laugh.

P.S. Two posts in twenty minutes, you know you love us

Sharing the Pain

Dirtbag's Pain:
i am so itchy. everywhere. everyfuckingwhere. In a previous post i showed photos of my difigured armpit from a rash. a mighty itchy rash. And since i now have cunts in those two crooks, this is like some nasty STD. Ever heard of bag-piping? it's all the rage in Broome.

arrgh and it's all up my neck and my arms. fucking hell, beware of the latest craze hickies.

BlogBear's Pain:
So Blogbear's got it bad too. Blisters on her back and arse from burns. They've turned to scabs now but we all know how fun they are to pick at. Ahhhh and how itchy they get. Everyone tells you not to, its almost an act of anti-authoritarian, yeah so what if it's going to cause me more pain.. so what if i'll get a scar. It's off, and theres nothing we can do about it now. R.I.P. Blogbear's Back Scab "He died a premature death, one that was inevitable but he served as a good platelet plug."

there's this misconception going around all high schools, i think, where students of a subject suddenly are proffessionals. If i ever need help with something i read in the news paper about the economic climate i simply yell out for the closest economics student to help me out. and there we have human biology (yuman biol) students- Doctors. And so i learnt through inquisitive nature that as a process of healing the body produces hestimine which makes you itch, but then you itch and so more fucking hestimine is produced to heal the torn skin which you aggressively broke through itching and so on. This cycle sucks cock, especially when the anti-hestimine pills you're taking are fucking pissweak. arrrgh help me please.

When you see people scratching away at their rashes and their scabs please guys, have some fucking compassion! Dirtbag is sexually promiscious and Blogbear passed out infront of a heater.

You should want what you need

This is not another recap of a teenage weekend no one cares about. Its my thoughts on something no one cares about. Refreshing.

I just have to say that today I was in Northbridge and saw a guy giving some sort of tribute to Michael Jackson as I was standing behind him to get a drink. Firstly he spun around and then moonwalked away. Fucking moonwalked away from the cash register! The question in my mind is did MJ's death hurt so much that he had to encorporate Jackson on a day-to-day basis? God only knows. I had to turn to my sister and pretend she said something really funny to me. The guy seemed pretty embarressed, its like he acted out one of those dumb things you want to do but only think about in your head.

First move:

Second move:

I saw Sunshine Cleaning today which I enjoyed, its by the producers of Little Miss Sunshine which sort of shows. A bunch of good actors, an original plot, humourous and relatable. I advise you to see it.

Heres a crazy thought, imagine if you loved working. Everything could work to your advantage I swear. I realised the other day that I am fairly uncommitted to everything. Be it people, staying in, going out, playing games, hobbies, sport, school; whatever it is I feel like I can be pretty.. fickle towards everything. Fickle is a bad connotation. Fickle is something I endeavour to change, so is my state of laze. I want to find a hobby for these holidays. It won't even need to be something I'm good at. Putting in the time, work and getting good is half the fun. Anyway, theres my thought.

Just a Happy Hooker, Riding Bicycles and Boys ;) in the Park

Stumbled upon this today http://news.ninemsn.com.au/world/833006/midget-wrestlers-may-have-been-drugged. It's a goodie.

The article had a lot going for it, namely the mention of hookers, the moment of realisation in the last paragraph and of course, the photo.

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out

What-wha-what-what-what's it all about

Might Boosh anyone? anyone? anyone? (i say in my best deadbeat impersonation of Ferris Bueller's modern history teacher).

And so i went through my image library and pulled this one out. An oldie but a goldie, goodie number two for the night

Here we have Charlie and Old Gregg curtesy of my nimble fingers tappa tappa tapping (that was Lisa Simpson's dancing teacher) out on the sewing machine the night before.

That is infact an Old Gregg buissiness card being held up. These two definately turned the motherfuckin' party out

If A Then B

Through my philosophy classes this year I've learnt of this way known as deductive reasoning. You probably know of it, something along the lines of "if A then B... " or whatever, never really paid attention. But lately deductive reasoning has proved its self a useful and humourous method. Many times it has been really successful at plainly stating the facts,

such as:




but then tonight it didn't really set the planets into allignment or bring upon any form of enlightenment

see here:






and so i was left really really really confused. until...

this:




and so the world makes sense again. ahhhhh

P.S. not sure if a key is entirely necessary but equal signs mean equal, arrows kinda mean are, is, means or something along those lines, three dots means therefore and crosses mean not ie. equals sign with a cross means not equal too. ca-pish!

PP.S here's news from your retarded cousins!!! YAYY!!! The offspring of your sleazy Uncle Sam who likes to offer you beer at christmas, slips you a fifty in a handshake rather than in a card on your birthday and cops a feel of your arse at anytime, funeral or not, anyways, those cousins of yours have done it again!!! God Bless America ('s future)

similie of the post: The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't