just another brick.
in an effort to realise our dreams we have decided to ignore the blinking orange bar of doom...but since...the blinker has a vagina...we will return. man i'm sitting in pana's house...and i don't really want to regurgitate my innards right now...in code or otherwise so i'll just go with the flow...isn't that what the fat man said molly? anb anb anb...anb is the biggest swear word i could think of right now because the orange blinker is annoying me. in an effort to realise our dreams?
people hunt for the next amusement. they find a source of mirth...which could be anything from fascinating to just plain dumb...intriguing to retarded...etc...they have their way...and then when they get bored of it...they go away. i wonder how zamin is right now...if he's in a better school than i am...if he'll ever give me a job.
this is my blog...i like to think that emptying my head of all thoughts will be like therapy...i will write it down in not so many words but the words i choose will be mostly mine...
strangers decide that i am public property and then they tell me what they think of me. i have been told that i'm a poser and what a girl said in her last comment was that i am, "trying to be misunderstood." i'm sure the concept is fascinating...but see...if i were a poser, i wouldn't laugh as much as i do...this is my home...you can't come in here and tell me that my furniture is shit...if you don't like it...don't sit...i am as alone as i could possibly be...so your having turned up and then leaving will mean nothing to me...because i know eventually...everybody is going to be all happy and rich and i will hopefully disappear because SADLY i have everything except the knowledge that i have everything...but i have four sisters...anybody who has four sisters doesn't have to worry about being cool and making friends...sisters are fascinating. we were six children in all...believe me...i seriously have no need to feel like i connect with someone...i don't feel the need to feel needed...i am free of the curse of my generation...but...i'm on zoloft...hahaha it makes you feel like life is perfect once you get over the side effects...hahhahahahaha...i'm bi polar...and depressed...but that's genetic and has nothing to do with how many friends i have...man hahahaha i will not remember writing this...i'm sure your friends love you too...i won't die if you don't read my blog...ohh boohoo...notice me...notice me please...i am so alone...please shower me with fake affection and parade me around like a trophy hahahahahahahah...love the fact that i am so uniquely messed up...hahahaha...(i am not...there are a bujillion other idiots like me...) tell people i wrote all my poems for you...but keep in mind...i'd have written them anyway...ok maybe not the ones i wrote for shiny.
i have had friends...and i know one day they won't recognise me...especially if i ask them for a job...everybody has a not so hidden agenda...sadly i have nothing to offer. nearly everybody who knows me has good reason to hate me...i have dealt with it. or maybe it's just the pills talking. actually you know what...do everything you want to...throw rocks at me...fart in public...i don't mind...i still think that the reason God created you was so that i could enjoy the way you write and bother you about sucking your tongue...nether regions as well...right so that's that...
i have far too many keys...
the other day i saw a girl with beautiful hands...seriously beautiful...i could spend hours just watching her do homework or something...the dance of pretty hands. it would make me laugh if her handwriting was horse manure...i feel like i should stop this and go jam with pana...
children will go and jam now!!!
people hunt for the next amusement. they find a source of mirth...which could be anything from fascinating to just plain dumb...intriguing to retarded...etc...they have their way...and then when they get bored of it...they go away. i wonder how zamin is right now...if he's in a better school than i am...if he'll ever give me a job.
this is my blog...i like to think that emptying my head of all thoughts will be like therapy...i will write it down in not so many words but the words i choose will be mostly mine...
strangers decide that i am public property and then they tell me what they think of me. i have been told that i'm a poser and what a girl said in her last comment was that i am, "trying to be misunderstood." i'm sure the concept is fascinating...but see...if i were a poser, i wouldn't laugh as much as i do...this is my home...you can't come in here and tell me that my furniture is shit...if you don't like it...don't sit...i am as alone as i could possibly be...so your having turned up and then leaving will mean nothing to me...because i know eventually...everybody is going to be all happy and rich and i will hopefully disappear because SADLY i have everything except the knowledge that i have everything...but i have four sisters...anybody who has four sisters doesn't have to worry about being cool and making friends...sisters are fascinating. we were six children in all...believe me...i seriously have no need to feel like i connect with someone...i don't feel the need to feel needed...i am free of the curse of my generation...but...i'm on zoloft...hahaha it makes you feel like life is perfect once you get over the side effects...hahhahahahaha...i'm bi polar...and depressed...but that's genetic and has nothing to do with how many friends i have...man hahahaha i will not remember writing this...i'm sure your friends love you too...i won't die if you don't read my blog...ohh boohoo...notice me...notice me please...i am so alone...please shower me with fake affection and parade me around like a trophy hahahahahahahah...love the fact that i am so uniquely messed up...hahahaha...(i am not...there are a bujillion other idiots like me...) tell people i wrote all my poems for you...but keep in mind...i'd have written them anyway...ok maybe not the ones i wrote for shiny.
i have had friends...and i know one day they won't recognise me...especially if i ask them for a job...everybody has a not so hidden agenda...sadly i have nothing to offer. nearly everybody who knows me has good reason to hate me...i have dealt with it. or maybe it's just the pills talking. actually you know what...do everything you want to...throw rocks at me...fart in public...i don't mind...i still think that the reason God created you was so that i could enjoy the way you write and bother you about sucking your tongue...nether regions as well...right so that's that...
i have far too many keys...
the other day i saw a girl with beautiful hands...seriously beautiful...i could spend hours just watching her do homework or something...the dance of pretty hands. it would make me laugh if her handwriting was horse manure...i feel like i should stop this and go jam with pana...
children will go and jam now!!!
posted by Duck at 7:29 AM
19 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
hahahha yes you are a poser.
hahahaaaa yes it was a mockery not an apology.you poser you.
damnit...what a waste. hahaha.
see these posts get emailed to me...so i know what the comment deleted was...therefore i shall smile now...wait for it...wait...waiiiit...aah there it is. a wide smile...it makes me look evil. very evil.
i made a girl apologise...hahaha...foolish mortal. alone-ness.
man just listen to me...come to my arms...i will wear deodorant...let us make love like nymphomaniacs and i\'ll play mind games until i reduce you to a pulp. then i\'ll fondle the pulp...hahahahahaha...what?
you know you want me...so stop pretending...werna poser ho jao gi.
hahahahhahahaha.
smart buoy. internet ka poora faida. hahahhahahahahhahahahhahaha.
i will only come to your open arms if you wear axe. or an axe. i don't mind honestly.
poser.
hahhaha.
my sister bought me \"old spice\" for my birthday if you\'re interested...remember...safe sex...i will wear a helmet and knee caps...you bring gloves...
actually i\'m sorry jaanemun laykin main puppi se zyaada kuchh nahin kerta...dozekh mein nahin jana mainay...
speaking of dozakh, don't ever take penut butter to the bathroom with you. EVER.
or the wrath of God will be upon you.
darling...i AM the wrath of God...
wah kya sex dialogue hai...when they make a movie about me...make sure that the guy who plays me says this...but not on the blog...that would be boring...imagine a dark alley or perhaps your bedroom...you can add gory details and stuff...but the dialogue is mine. man i am too hot.
yaar. arrey. yaar. i laffed a lot today. thenks. tum ney barra kaam kia.
that\'s all good and stuff but just don\'t make it a habit...absence makes the heart grow fonder...etc. the novelty will wear off...otherwise
also remember...those few minutes before you go to sleep, when you lie in bed all yummy in soft clothes...thinking of me naturally...because i\'m the most erotic thing that happened to you today...
don\'t touch yourself...respect hoti hai.
i can't stop laughing.
hansi to phansi...get a grip...don\'t fall too easy...i expect a challenge...
it\'s a good thing that nearly nobody other than the reluctant band member is potentially watching this shameless display...of ghalazat.
i saw. I saw all of it.
remember the pea cock that got shamed into silence? i feel quite the same after viewing this blatant display of pushtu movie debauchery.( btw pea cock is not a euphemistic reference to my anatomical insecurities) sameer u r not by any stretch of the imagination a member of the band reluctant or otherwise so kindly get lost oh short one,or go win a debate or something, your prescence here is as much a pleasure as syphillis ( which btw martin i should warn you against in light of your current romantic pursuits).
- the reluctant band member-
hey khosa if ure reading this i am feeling a wee bit ( hello khosa) sorry for being a little ( hello khosa) mean in the previous post so this is a small ( hello khosa) helpful suggestion to make up for it.
take penis enlargment pills, youll grow taller.
- the reluctant band member-
my dear, reluctant band member...
we keep asking you to deliver the greens...heed our calls...and also...stay, silent, knowing, always, in time...i will come crying back and curse everyone and then we\'ll do damage...and the damage will be done...khosa can stay as long as he promises me that he\'ll give me a job when i\'m poor and stuff.
if the girl gives me syphillis...i\'ll try to enjoy recieving it and then tell her about my aids situation. also gonhorrea, cholera, jaundice and cauliflower.
remember people...i know this is a fun get together for people who know each other...(excluding me...i only know molly...failing to get to know khosa better has been a \"short coming\"...of mine.)
acha kher i\'ve made my joke about khosa...can we now pretend this never happened and i was peacefully writing a blog that khosa refused to acknowledge and the reluctant band member was reading for ego boostage.
the girl is gone and won\'t come back. such is the way of the boobed scavenger...
i haven\'t slept in two days...i am about to flop down and die.
jub zaroorat thhi to tub khosa nahin aya...bachi daekh ker dorr aya hai...haramkhor.
kher all i have to say to young khosa is, \"jub b.p. bubble bar jaisi barri bubble bar ho to inn chhoton ka kya faaida?\"
baad mein sorry keh doon ga...although he is a treacherous little muffin.
the only thing worse than being referred to as a "boobed scavenger" is being called a "bachi". bachi. that is the only offensive term i have read so far.
bachi. such a poser word.
yeah i know...all girls hate being called bachi...it\'s why i used it...my knowledge of what can annoy a girl is vast...but then you see...poser is not a polite word...i don\'t like it...you don\'t seem to care...you deserve being called bachi...there is nothing wrong with boobed scavenger...
you are a bachi...like black people are niggers and pakistani people are bloody pakis...dwarfs and midgets are not little people...etc etc...go be politically correct somewhere else...yahaan poser rehtay hain.
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