NationStates On That There Internet Thing

If you don't give a crap about NationStates, or what I have to say, then go away.

I am currently going through my second Delegate election on NS, and I find that in every election, someone has to go through an arsenal unnecessary psychological attacks.

"Why?" I ask myself, "what have I done to deserve such harsh words?"

Damnit to hell! At the very least they should be able to say something that's true! Not something like, "His nation looks pathetic," or "Ever since he was elected, our region has been slowly dying."

Now I know how politicians must feel when they are wrongly accused of something. It's infuriating! But, on the brightside, I was able to debate my way out of the accusations during the last election, so I say to you, new accuser, BRING IT ON! Yes, that's right, I'm a master debater.

On a brighter side of things, one of my friends almost used the word "proctology" in a short story that they were writing, thanks to yours truly. I told her to use it to describe someone's face, and, as she didn't know what it meant, she almost did use it. I don't think she would have even been bothered to look it up if my friend and I had not been crying with laughter.

Yes. You really did need to know that.


Have Returned, And Here's A Joke!

A 5 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom. "You know what?" says the 5 year old, "I think it's about time we start swearing."
The 4 year old nods his head in approval.
The 5 year old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm going to say 'hell' and you say 'ass', OK?"
The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.
The mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 5 year old what he wants for breakfast.
"Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."
WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up and runs upstairs crying his eyes out.
The Mom looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?"
"I don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your ass it won't be Cherrios!"


'oliday Fun

I'm going to blimmin Italy for the next week, so I don't think I'll be able to post any time soon. I'd tell ya exactly where I'm going, but who knows who else's reading this?

Don't miss me too much. :p


Nerd/Geek Tests

I found a link to these tests somewhere...I can't remember, but anyway, they are tests to see if you are a geek/nerd. I scored 6% on the geek test, and 5% on the nerd test.

Geek Test

For the nerd test, click on the image in my sidebar.*

*This image will be forever embedded in my sidebar, but there is one statement on it that I'm not particularily keen on, the statement that I despise nerds; let me make an official statement that this is not the case, I don't despise them.

Not Quite Gone

After consulting with my good buddy f.b.i.t.c., I have decided not to abandon this blog, but to continue. After all, if no one visits this site, I can always use it to vent my emotions.

Here's a return joke that's been going round in an email:

Irish Wheelies
>Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the
>night mourning Liverpool's draw with Basel. Mick, the bartender says,
>"You'll not be drinking anymore tonight, Paddy". Paddy replies "OK Mick,
>I'll be on my way then." Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He
>falls flat on his face.
>"Shoite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off.
>He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face.
>"Shoite, Shoite!" He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he
>can just get to the door and some fresh air he'll be fine. He belly crawls
>to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside
>and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step
>out onto the sidewalk. He falls flat on his face.
>"Bi'Jesus... I'm fockin' focked," he says.
>He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door and
>shimmies up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a
>look up the stairs and says "No fockin' way". He crawls up the stairs to
>his bedroom door and says "I can make it to the bed." He takes a step into the
>room and falls flat on his face. He says "Fock it" and falls into bed.
>The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of
>coffee and says, "Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?".
>Paddy says, "I did Jess. I was fockin' psssed. But how'd you know?"
>"Mick called. You left your wheelchair at the pub."



I'm posting to inform you (that is, assuming anyone even reads this blog) that I have lost interest in this. Yeah, you heard me correctly, this will be my last post. The content of my posts is often rubbish, and sadly there is hardly an audience to boo me off stage; so I'll boo myself off stage, thank you very much.

I'll keep the site open for a few weeks, just in case anyone wants to reciprocate my farewell.


8 Simple Rules and New Rating Scale

I was flicking through channels yesterday, when I stumbled upon the Paramount Comedy Channel. The show 8 Simple Rules--a show I have seen snippets of before, but never actually watched--was on, so I decided to watch; and what a hilarious show it is. I don't know about other episodes, but the one on last night deserves a ten on my new rating scale.* For those of you who know the show, it was the one in which the whole family is in fear of someone calling for them, and when that person does call, they tell the others that it was simply, "Someone selling long-distance".

*If you're wondering what a ten on my scale means, then here's a list of all the possible ratings I can give something (10 being the highest and 1 being the lowest):

10-Fucken awesome
7-Veh nice
5-Mildly amusing
3-You must write for Leno
2-That's just sad
1-So good that I just never want to [insert verb here, i.e. eat, watch] it again

There you have it.



Yeah, so I've been havin' a little hiatus for the past few days. So what? Besides, it's the summer, and thus way too hot to do anyfin' other than sittin' on yer fat arse, listning to explicit pop-punk music.

Anyvays, I have discovered a new blog that I like, entitled, "Buff my scrotum". You can find it here.


Get Yer Phishing Rods Out!

So, I was reading up on the latest email clients, and I stumbled upon one that claimed to protect against "Phishing". Puzzled, I did quick Wikipedia search on it, which came back with some rather disturbing results (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phishing). Watch out, AOL users!

And I saw this on this week's "BBC quotes of the week":

"She's in for a treat tonight!"
Golf commentator Peter Alliss upon spotting Woods' wife, Elin, as Tiger prepared to seal his Open victory at Hoylake

What the hell's that supposed to mean?


Don't you hate it when...

Don't you hate it when you walk into a public crapper, and there's a guy takin' a leak in a stall with the door wide open?