Notice.

Yes, I've been compiling and snapping photos from magazines. From those, I've done stenciling, re-editing, overlapping and some other creative stuff in order to re-shape them.

It's been a whole lot of fun and I've been using my time fairly by doing this, reading, and going into chatrooms and having some loner's fun.

But anyways, I hope some of you may enjoy and appreciate the work I've done. It's not fun sitting here and suffering from backaches.

However, this isn't copyrighting. I'm just borrowing (without asking). :D

The Night Is Young....and it's painted black.

The Day After The Day After Mr Biggy left.

And so the unthinkable happened. The school holidays started and I'm prescribed with a maximum dose of boredom and thoughts of "what do I eat?".
Most younglings await the joys of school holidays. However, as soon as it arrives, they get bored and shower themselves in the laziness.
Blogs to me, are unimportant. I've no idea what I'm supposed to say in these blogs except for posting my artwork and others. It's a shame when such intellects with a 3 figure IQ has nothing to say in his/her blog.
But I guess, I'll turn it into something cliche. I will talk about my day. In the form of poetry ala Brian Molko (aka He Who Rhymes A Lot).

Slammered up in a chatroom,
Serena Maneesh's Ukjent album in cue,
Cellphone's buzzing in the blue,
As Yanks blab about nothing to do.

Sweet Tara gives me five smileys,
Sunburn.freezerburn takes the life out of choco minies,
Ending our convo chickily,
And now Sweet Tara in the iggie.

Friendster alerting me of messages,
Microsoft Sam previewing nasty sentences,
Lady Thunderbolt and Lord Hurricane explain their differences,
And Photobucket is being a turd.

Grilled chicken in the stove,
Carrots and beans on toe,
Puppy's lickin' the hell out of my toe,
And why's my Coldplay album downloading so slow?

Off to Bangkok on the 6th of December,
It's one of those dates where I won't bother to remember,
I don't want to be alive on the 25th of December,
Because my relatives will make it a day to remember.
( And I don't want to sit for SPM :D )


Condition: Out of the torment of LSD.
D FOR DYSLEXIA! :D

A copy.

This is a copy of what my boyfriend wrote in his blog. We're not big on blogging, but we do appreciate the fact that there's on place where we're both abled to speak our mind without getting shot. I completely agree with what he had said. I adore him for it. And this would definitely mean that we need to find our own path.

I'm just a box in a cage...


I'll start this off by letting you all know that I no longer have internet access at home.. not even in the Rec Room. I'm totally isolated. Hooray?
That said, here's a rant/whatever I typed this mornin'.

Before I even get started, I should warn you. If you're easily offended by anything remotely similar to racism, anything that sounds vaguely like racism, racial profiling, stereotyping, blanket statements, or "grouping" (somethimg similar to the previous two, but still somehow different), please do us both a favor, and don't read this.
Or, if you like being offended, at least have the common courtesty not to send me messages, bitching at me for stating an opinion.. because you know I'm not gonna listen. :)

(And if this sounds rambling and disjointed, I appologize. Most of this came to mind at 2 in the morning, when I was tired but still couldn't sleep, and now it's 7 in the morning, I'm running on two hours of sleep, give or take. Also, my grasp of history is tenuous at best.)

This is aimed at us "caucasians" who can trace our lineage back at least four generations, in this country. If you can't, this doesn't apply to you, and you shouldn't get offended or anything.
I have stumbled across the phrase "generic American". In this bass-ackwards, politically correct country, where we have to make up whole new phrases and groups for all the different ethnic groups (to keep from offending anyone, god forbid that happen); ie: Asian-Americans, African-Americans, Latin-Americans, and even Hispanic-Americans, (not to mention Mexican-Americans, who currently populate half or more of this great state), there seem to be plenty of racially-specific terms/words/phrases.. and I don't just mean the derogatory ones (We'll touch on that later.)
Maybe it's because I'm part of this group, but there don't seem to be too many phrases to describe us. None that aren't blatantly derogatory, that is.
(Sure, there's the stereotypes you see in movies.. again, that's later)

Also, I hate how black people call eachother "nigga" and crap like that, but we're mortified at the thought of using such language. Grow up, you fuckers. Slavery has been dead for a hundred years, except in the case of marriage. I know there are still white-supremacists and racists out there; I know a few of them. Niggers come in all colors, the way I see it. And remember, it wasn't just the white people catching the wild negroes and enslaving them. It was their own people. Their own people! Catching them and selling to the white people. So don't give me that bullshit.

Anyway, back to what I was getting at.. A lot of us "white" folks can trace our heritage here in the US back as far as the 1600s, when the group of prudes.. I mean pilgrims.. came over from England/wherever. Not to mention the Dutch. Some of us can trace it back only as far as the 1800s, when the puhtater famine was going on, and Scottish/Irish immigrants started flooding over here. Some of them being potato farmers, some horse theives, coming over to escape a hangin'..
I myself know that somewhere along the lines, I'm related to a horse thief, as well as the somewhat-famous writer, Laura Ingles Wilder. For those of you who don't recognize the name (shame on you), she wrote the Little House on the Prairie books, upon which the TV show was based. I think one of the Wilders was in the show, but I don't know (or care).
I've been told that somewhere in my family "tree", one can find German, British, Dutch, possibly Polish (which explains some things), Italian, and maybe even some French. Not a whole lot, though, since every male member of my family that I know of has fought in a war, defending this country.
You look at my dad, grandpa, and even my younger sister, and you can see the German; blonde hair, blue eyes, and the obviously German nose. Might be where I got mine from.
Also, a large part of my lineage comes not from tater farmers or famous writers, but the Native Americans who were uprooted and slaughtered by the Western Europeans who came over here. So basically, I'm allowed to say whatever I want about the different races and racial terms here. :) You're all foreigners.

I'd say maybe it's time for the few remaining Native Americans to stop with that whole "White man killed all the buffalo, then hunted my people to the brink of extinction" thing, but.. well, there aren't many left, and the bloodlines are so diluted (possibly from the white men raping the Indian women), so.. I'll let them continue.
That whole "manifest destiny" crap was a bitch on their way of life, I'd say we still owe 'em.

I've just discovered that my mom's cat likes Pringles. Odd.



One thing I really hate about people in this country is how they like to be labeled.. bound by stereotypes and little "cliques" they can fit into.
It's bad enough with stupid television, portraying white people as either being the uptight, white-collar business man, (or a low-brow, blue-collar inbred), the white kid who tries (way too hard) to be black, the "goth" kid, whiny and self-indulgent, with all that mascara/eye-liner, or the braindead, college-prep student (either the stupid team-slut cheerleader type or the stupid, aggressive, chauvanist sports-jock), or the socially-inept computer/video-game nerd. Sounds like the cast for another teen movie, eh? Go figure.

Some time in the past, a friend of mine stated her desire to become Wiccan. This surprised me, because she's got enough common sense that she doesn't need a little group to belong to, or a religion to help her deal with life. (Get real, kids. Thumping the bible doesn't do you any good.. really.)
I asked her why, and she said she wanted to belong to a group.. to feel a sense of belonging. I thought "Ya silly girl, you belong to me." But I digress. (I'm good at it)

I understood that she wanted to feel like she belonged, and I know what a comfort that can be, but in the long run, I don't see that it really does any good. The way I see it, religions and those little groups don't help you deal with real life, they only shelter you from it. Granted, that seems to be what most people want.. they don't want to deal with life, they only want to be sheltered. I still don't understand the whole emo-goth "culture".. To me, it's really just another strange way of behaving and dressing. At first, I thought people did that to set themselves apart.. since that's what most of them claimed.. but I've seen that it doesn't set you apart, it makes you like everyone else.
I just wish all those people would stop deluding themselves into thinking it makes them unique. It's like a form of denial, I swear.
Fuckers.

Anyway, I guess that's enough of my ranting. For now. *shakes my fist*

The Chaucer Pubbe Gag

After special considerations and thinking, I've found the most adorable nonsense I've ever come across with.

Yes, I speak of none other than Bill Bailey himself. This is his reading, called The Chaucer Pubbe Gag. A prose of his, written in the style of "Chaucer", aptly known as Geoffrey Chaucer, the man behind The Canterbury Tales. If you find Shakespere difficult, I'd recommend that you do not come close to The Canterbury Tales or any other work of Chaucer. Brain damage is expected. So enough of my rhetorical mumbo-jumbo, here are the words and the video, for you to enjoy. A bloody keepsake.
Wonderful memorabilia.

The Chaucer Pubbe Gag

by Bill Bailey


Three fellows wenten into a pubbe,
and gleefully their hands did rubbe,
in expectacion of revelry,
for twas the hour known as happy.

Great bottles of wine did they quaff,
and hadde a really goode laff,
'till drunkenness held full dominion,
for 'twas two for the price of one.

Yet after wine and meade and sack,
man must have a massive snack,
great pasties from Cornwall,
Scottish eggs, round like a ball.

Great hams, quail, duck and geese,
they sucked the bones and drank the grease.
One fellow stood all pale and wan,
for he was a vegiterian.

Yet man knoweth that gluttony stoketh the fire of lechery,
upon three young wenches round and sly the fellows cast a wanton eye,
One did approach with drunken wink,
'allow daaahlin – you fancy a drink?

Soon they court them on their knee – 'twas like some grotesque puppetry,
such was the lewdness and debauchery 'twas like a sketch by Dick Emery,
Except Dick Emery is not yet born,
so that comparison may not be drawn.

But then the fellows began to pale,
for Quale are not the friend of ale,
And in their bellies much confusion,
from their throats, vile extruision!

Stinking foul coruption,
came spewing forth from drooling lips,
the fettid stench did fill the pubbe,
'twas the very arse of Belzibubbe.

Thrown they were, from the Whore and Trumpet,
In the street, no coin, no strumpet,
homeward bound must quickly go,
and to that end, a donkey stole.

Their hands all with vomit greased,
the donkey – was not pleased,
and threw them into a ditch of shite,
they all agreed – "what a brilliant night!"

And here's the link to the video.

Christ-sakes! Mr Baggy on the loose!

Aftah discovering ah wholly whopping world of british humour, i've decided that i'd fancy to shaaare this obscure knowlegde that one has compiled one's self through uttah bliss and haaardwork.
One is talking fancy this simply because one has one is suffering ah minor case of dyslexiah. hott stuff, bally! Absolutely top hole - I have to say. Jolly good show old bean! **


**This is the translation of what I said.**
After discovering a wholly whopping world of British humour, I've decided that I'd like to share this obscure knowlegde that I have compiled myself through utter bliss and hardwork.
I'm talking like this simply because I have I am suffering a minor case of dyslexia. Hott stuff, bugger!


If you suffer from minor cuts, burns, bruises or so to say, any form of internal bleeding, either from your brain, stomach, lung or anything that involves your lifestyle( that includes yer pubes,too ) ..take note that this may be rather infectious. Or so to speak, it may cause damage( or more ) to you. So have a jolly good time and have a laugh. Have a bit of a joke. Because in the end, you're the one who'll be a tad bit brainier than tha' hood. I specifically regret saying that. So, learn , dear fiend! And speak like the Brits!


Take heed that this translation is set into Ali-G mode. Yes, your text will turn out the be the sickest and crummiest shit you'll ever read.

Next up, The Chaucer Pubbe Gag.
Take note that the term "Pubbe" is pronounced as "pub".