Dear Die-ary...

Heh, the title of this post is my family motto. Weird. Anyway, go here for one of those magic-crush things. It's fun! And funny...

Now anyway, yesterday evening, it was decided that I would EAT AGAAAAAIN. *stop* On TV there's that annoying advert... "Put the lime in the coke, you nut..." *unstop* Anyway, yes, 45 hours of starvaaaation was enough. Maybe. So eating I am. Probably. Mmmyep. In other random news, I'm making a game, so one day I might put it up here. I'm using Klik and play to make it. Hoorah. Also, devout 'fans' might notice I have changed the title of this blog from 'Thingy' to 'Dear Die-ary...' That was because I was bored of the old title. 'Thingy'... hardly a crowd-attractor is it?

Anyway, yesterday I went to the same animation classes that I went to in the Summer. We had not much time there, 3 hours to be exact. To start with, we were all talked through the same information as before. "Now, what does animation mean?" I mean, it was pretty darned pointless. We were also told that no one gets 'the jump' correct the first time. Um... I did? Huh. But so, my first animation this time starred GoatBoy.
^That's a sh1tty 5-second quick drawing I did on MSN. Yep. I know it's sad, but I store every picture I draw on MSN. Including the cross-dressing Jem one:

What? MSN doesn't have a paint-filler tool. Nikki, I bet you remember that pic. It was to 'celebrate' non-uniform day, and the fact I dress(ed) like Dib... for some reason. BACK TO THE SUBJECT. So, the animation consisted of GB standing on the edge of a cliff. He breathes in, and then runs and jumps off. He falls. And falls. Then he lands head-first in the sand below. How nice! However, just as I finished drawing it, and was ready to animate it, time ran out. So, damn. There's always next week... If I remember.

My Mom dragged me on a pointless walk. It was only 30 minutes, but that was beside the point. I warned her that it would be likely that I would have a MIGHTY NEED on the way. But she wouldn't listen, naturally. So, Dad dragged us to the middle of nowhere, then left us to walk back over dangerous roads near full-up pubs. And, wouldn't you know it, after about 5 minutes I needed the bathroom. Pretty bad. I TOLD her to bring a mobile, but the bloody dozy mare thought that was a stupid thing to do. And so, walking and walking, needing the bathroom. I would've ran, but that would've been worse. But yes, I made it. I made it in time. Time is good.

Not much interesting has happened, as you can tell. Oh, the power of pictures. They fill a lot of space.

I decided to take the advice of my 'friends' and not eat. So, so far I haven't eaten for more than 24 hours.

Wasn't that fun? I have not eaten for that amount of time... fun, no? I refused breakfast, which was surprisingly big in itself. Strangely, my parents didn't notice my abandonment of the cold... eurgh. I thought it would be bad at around lunchtime, however, it... wasn't. It was pretty easy, as I was invited to play tennis. It wasn't that easy on the courts though, because there were about 8 of us. Playing on one court. Half a court. And so, playing tennis took my mind off of everrrrrrrrything. But, I wanted to kill my PE teacher...

Heh. Those who know me would know that I HATE rounders. I don't know if Americans have rounders in their country, but it's, in a way, like baseball, but poles at the bases. There's a long history of hating rounders. First of all - the 'safety'. A ball hurtling towards you... then you have to run around the poles, with other people running around. SMASH. ("You're out!") Then, there's also the impaling fear I have. I have a fear of being impaled onto things, which is why I like, but don't like, javalin. And I had to 'guard' the second pole, and was scared of bending backwards to catch the ball, and getting impaled as I did so. There are many other reasons I hate it... I remember when I was about, ooh, 11, and we were playing rounders. I ran completely around the pitch, somehow (hoorah). But I remember... after running around... there was some sort of strange... 'dizzy' effect. I don't know how to describe it, it was just WEIRD. And this bloody dizzyness stuck around for about a month. And my teacher wouldn't believe me, because she hated my guts anyway. That same teacher, whom I told I was being bullied, replied that it was my fault I was being bullied, and punished me for my 'ignorance'. ("Remember kids, tell me if you're being bullied!") ANYWAY, ANYWAY... more reasons. Last year, I think it was, I was sealed in a tent-like area, filled with over 60 plastics, playing rounders. Screaming their heads off like there was no tomorrow. And, yet again, if you knew me, you would know that loud noises make me dizzy, YET AGAIN. Heh, I had to be sent to the changing rooms. Death is fun. So, there has been a history of bad experiences of rounders. Another pointer is the running... last year, again, there was another experience. I was runnin', and runnin', and... I let the team down. I let them down again, when I didn't catch the ball. The same 'friend' who told me to be anorexic (well, one of them), lectured me about how 'bloody useless' I am.

I hate her... I hate her now. I hope some random mental patient comes and murders her and burns her body, so there is no trace. If that did happen, I wouldn't care. I wouldn't even bother looking for her missing self.

So, anyway, about the rounders... I refused to bat. AND I got away with it. But everyone else thinks I'm 'bloody useless' again, and can't do anything right. When I was asked about it, they said that I WILL improve on my batting. It has nothing to do with that. Oh, the ignorance of the truth!

One thing, before I close. My parents are, and are not, concerned about my sudden wish to not eat. And, my Dad has plagorised my theory. This theory is that the more friends you have, the more stupid you are. My theory! Not his! And so, he does not want me to talk to any people that I consider a friend anymore, as they are a bad influence on me.

You heard it here first, folks.

And I still ain't eating.

Or do they? Do they really? In my opinion, no. Or at least, not mine.

For you see... meh. Imagine this, OK, imagination is fun. Imagine, you walk back to where your friends are, after playing tennis. You make a single, simple, harmless (to no one else, that is. Heh) joke about your weight, exaggerating it pretty wildly. You expect them to laugh, as they always do after you make a wise-crack remark. Instead, they agree with your statement, and use it to make a demand. This demand is, put simply, to be anorexic.

Now what kind of 'friend' asks you to put your life on the line? I should've expected something like this from two snobbish sh1ts who are good at PE. Yes, I'm quite prepared to call them snobbish sh1ts, in their face or behind their backs. They make out that I'm the biggest BLIMP in the whole school, which, obviously, I AM NOT. Would anyone who knows me knows me, like to disagree with the 'I AM NOT' bit? Go ahead, sure. Cast your votes now. There are many reasons as to why I'm like I am, I am not overweight, no, but for some reason they think I am. In fact, about last month I remember an insult which wasn't meant to be an insult, or at least I don't think it was meant to be one. Nikki asked me, "Bobbbb, have you been eating chocolate again?" And someone, I don't know who, but I think it was Becky, said, "Why? Is she bulimic?" Ouch. I don't think it was meant that way... Maybe, maybe not.

Does not yet explain why they want me to become anorexic, though. Is it that they want me to be in a critical health condition so they can be better than me (for some reason)? Or worse... do they want to kill me?? Maybe they do, maybe they don't. Maybe, they're so goddamned sick of me that they want me to disappear off the face of the earth, leaving no trace of my exsistence? That's... maybe it. But, you know, they BULLIED me into becoming anorexic, saying, in effect, that if I didn't get the deathly eating disorder, that I will have to stop being their friends forever, and they won't talk to me until I fit into society (by becoming anorexic).

So, fine, if they want me to become anorexic, then I will. No eating for me until I'm 'socially acceptable'.

Shame really, because it's chicken burgers for lunch tomorrow. Oh well.

Oh boy. I was ill yesterday, well, ill in the afternoon, as I was today, so I was going to go to bed early. But, of course, I didn't. Instead, I decided to do some random internet shopping, because... I felt like it. I wanted that GIR toy on eBay *squeaks happily* and some random things from HotTopic, because they're moving, and so I would get a 20% discount. And there's only about... 4 days left until the offer ends. But, I don't think I'll get the discount after all. For you see...

I got the GIR toy. Well, obviously I haven't received it, but you know what I mean. So that's... good. But, after many attempts of buying things from HT... OK. I add everything I wanted to the cart. I aquired my Dad's credit card. I type in all the details, and press submit. Then, a message comes up saying it's so HORRIBLY WRONG, and I must redo it NOW or the world will IMPLODE on itself. So, I did it again, because I want my stuffs. I must have done this operation about 10 times, and the same error messages come up:

• We're unable to process your order. Please check the billing address and try again. Please note, the billing address must be entered exactly as it appears on your statement.
• We're unable to process the submitted credit card information.Your shopping cart has been cleared and no charges have been made to your credit card.

When that second one comes up, I have to add the items to the cart AGAIN. So, as you could tell, I was getting slightly p1ssed off as it was nearing 11pm. Did they want to sell their goods to me? So, I sent an email, asking WTF WAS GOING ON ON THE BLOODY MOTHERF*CKING WEBSITE... And I got a nice reply today. Turns out that their international ordering has technical issues, and so I will have to phone up instead. Oh yes, I would like to spend £15 per minute for ordering some stuffs... No I wouldn't. So I asked if there is an alternative solution. I have yet to get a reply. Personally, my Dad said an idea. That is, that they send an invoice and the goods and blah blah blah stuff happens you see where I'm getting at no? No? Suit yourself.

Not much time to sort this mess out, so I hope this is sorted out before my house spontaniously combusts with me inside it.

Have a guess where Dib just kicked Zim. Go on, guess.

Jesus Christ, Superstar, looks like a girl and he wears a bra... Heh, just kidding. Aheh... Jesus Christ, I spent the past... hmm... 5 hours or so doing a bleeding Romiet and Julio essay. Boy, was that fun!!! And I wasn't even starting and finishing it. Hmmmmmm...

Anyway, when I got home today, I found a perculiar looking postcard on the doormat. It had a pencil on it, and some words... I think they were 'Maths Department, Parkstone Grammar School', or something like that. On the other side, it had stuff about me being an 'excellent worker' and blah blah blah. It was nice, but it would've been nicer if it didn't have an box.

Back to my skoolday... The first 2 hours were Art. What made this worse was the teacher's evaluation on our past project work (Fauvism). But what the teacher did to me was NOT FAIR. She got out my magpie picture... I'll remind you:

THAT one. Anyway, she got it out, got a crap biro picture of a greek mask done by some 11th year, put them side-by-side, and called up a few members of our class. Hava guess what happened next. She said to them, "I won't tell you whose is whose," (though it's bloody obvious because we haven't been doing greek masks...) "but I want you to say which one you prefer." As expected, they pointed to mine. Suddenly, another teacher comes along, and the same question was prompted to her. And she said the magpie, too. It's just too obvious which one she wants you to go for. The 'volunteers' went back, and the suddenly-appearing teacher asked if she could look through my book. I gave a negative answer, and tried to yank it from her, but she would not let go. Neither would I. But I was made to hand it over, and while the teacher was reading it, she seemed to have a face filled with disappointment, and she handed the book back quickly before she went too far. I still remember that horror-sticken face... That evaluation was more to do with the picture of the magpie than the fauvism project. And, as Nikki has experienced, she called my work "cheeky". I do worry sometimes, you know.

At least I got two grade higher than my last one...

Because my work was "cheeky".

# Bobbin slithered back into the shadows at 9:48 PM -----  1 people have lost their sanity

"This baby is restless.... This baby is sleeping soundly. Why? Because his mother FEEDS IT GIN."

Why did that make me laugh? Heh. At least I think that's how the quote went. Yeah, yeah... anyway...

So I went to the moon today. It was quite cold, you know, despite it being spring 'n' all. Not many people there, so it was quite deserted... not many shops were open anyway. No food shops or stands were open, and we got hungry. Well, it was a nice place to have a walk, yes, I must admit. Many craters, though, which was a tad annoying. Oh, and there was the lack of fresh air. So we came back down, after a while.

Instead we went to some random place called Swanage. I don't really live anywhere near it, but that's where we went. There was no point in going at all. So, it was pointlessly pointless. (Marvel at my pitiful attempts to build up the story here.) We went into many low-funded shops, to stare at the crap stock. That was fun. But what I didn't actually understand was the behavior of two ignorant women...

As soon as I walked into that shop, whatever it was, the two shop assistants started laughing. From what I could tell, at me. And they took no measures to make their 'gloating' discreet. They even said something, I don't know what, but I picked out some of the words, which were, "She," and, "haystack". Then they laughed full-heartidly, sounding like a flock of seagulls. No one else has 'complained' before. I have no idea of what these under-educated women have in their tedious little minds, from what I could see, they looked like prostitutes that wore clothes from charity shops. 2 things I desperately wanted to do, but didn't, were punching them after letting their guard down, or explain to them how I am amazed that they have jobs with such ignorance as that. I would, but I'm pretty darn sure that I'm not the only one they've been laughing in-their-faces at. So I'll happily sit back and wait for them to get fired.

But, that's not the only strange thing that happened on that trip. I was waiting outside that little shop of horrors (free insult with every purchase, or we'll just give it to you for free!), some random guy called for my attention. He was standing outside a pub across the street, looking like he'd already been in there, as part of his body was still stuck inside it. He called to me with a friendly smile, "Hey, nice hair." And vanished back inside. What the hell was that about?? My Dad smiled at me, saying at how nice that was. However he's just totally oblivious to modern day society. I explained to him about the evidence laid before us: He was in a pub. He was most likely dared to say that to me. My Mom piped up, "What? Tell you about how nice your hair looks?" I shook my head in disbelief. Isn't it darn obvious? It's like... hmm... it's like someone who's just thrown up all over themselves, and it's all down their top. Some random guy comes up and says with a smile, "Nice shirt." Not the best example, because I have not thrown up on my hair. But you understand what I'm getting at, no? Personally, I don't know if what he said was sarcastic, a dare, or just a random compliment. And it worries the crap outta me. Maybe I am unaware of what the world thinks of me? Maybe... it's history repeating itself... In future, I would prefer all 'compliments' or comments kept to the person in question, for I do not understand if it's sarcasm, etc etc, so it confuses me, and I don't take compliments very well. Even if it is an honest and true compliment. I just don't like it.

I'm not paranoid, I'm just aware.

Honestly!! Of all the tastes in the world, why did my mouth have to taste like orange juice?? AARGH!!!! And if you think I've been drinking some, you're wrong, because I can't drink orange juice, so therefore I haven't. But... orange juice!! It's been haunting me all day!!

Yes, enough of orange juice.

Yet again I had a lesson free from my art teacher. Yay! But instead, a Mr Hallsworth took the lesson. Personally I thought I could get away with doing nothing. But I was wrong. I was drawing GoatBoy, a new addition to the family of drawings (he has a troll for a friend... aw, that's sad. Yay!). One day I will show you him. But anyway, so I was drawing him, and his troll friend, when this take-on of Dracula slid up to me, and demanded that I handed what I was doing over to him. I quite literally forbade him from taking it off of me. But, being me, I handed it over after some argument. He just looked at it. (Note to self: Next time draw horrifically disturbing pictures of people dying. And being gutted. And blood dripping from mouths, like all their insides had just been squashed up and grounded to fit in their throats.) He asked me what the hell it was, and why I was doing it, and sh1t like that. All the time I was giving sarcastic remarks. I reckon I'm the only person who's done that to him yet... Soon enough, after my responses, he was tired of my presence, and left me alone for the rest of the lesson. No, I still didn't do any work. Heh.

Conspiracy!! My sister is plotting against me. I was happily watching Shaun of the Dead. Suddenly, she appears just as they get to the Winchester pub (after they act like zombies), and takes the DVD out. I asked, nay, DEMANDED why she did such a thing. She said it was hers. Personally, I don't know whose it was. I just found it by my computer and so watched it (for the third time...). I said this, and she said I still should've asked her, even though there was a chance it wasn't hers. I am thankful she went back home today. She dyed her hair a horrendous dark red-purple. It's frightening. She looks like a plastic Gaz, and that's just disturbing.More stuffs. I was gonna play the Sims, but I didn't get 'round to it. Instead, I've been cleaning out my computer. I must've got rid of at least 1 GB, maybe 2, but my computer is in denial. It's still at the same level of used-i-ness. At two different computer-tackling times the recycling bin held 95 MB, delete, then another time: 121 MB. Delete. Well, that was fun.

What made the whole thing worse was the deletion of my on-the-computer MS-paint and Photoshop etc pictures. Mostly Jem pictures. And it was the biggest folder of them all (with the possible exception of my Invader Zim collection). But I couldn't just delete them all! So I didn't. Instead, I did the horrific thing of converting the bmp files into jpg files. Jpgs only take up less than half the space of bmps. Problem is, it therefore leaves them in a sh1tty state. Oh well.

Then I had to uninstall a lot of things. I had to uninstall javascript, flash, Furcadia, a whole bunch of things I know I'll miss. I think I might have to uninstall MSN too, maybe. Probably not, but we'll have to compare the spacing. And wouldn't you know it? The Sims 2 was the largest application there was. Over 2000 MBs.

And was it all worth it? No, not really.

Have a couple of pictures of Jem I did today and yesterday. The only thing that's good about the pictures are the backgrounds. That is sad. Stoopid pictures. Stoopid sad pictures.

Aheh, yes. You know all that sh1t I said yesterday? It didn't stop there. Soon after I published it I was attacked again. But this time, instead of just being knocked down, I was knocked down, stamped on, grounded into the... floor (trying not to say 'ground' too many times) and... yeah. I managed to get a nosebleed after Dad repeatedly punched my nose, and I have a slight black ring 'round one eye, and on the other I have some sort of red sore on my eyelid. Apparently I also had a fat lip.

Details of what happened are too blurry. All I learnt from it was this: Grabbing someone's mouth is a great way of attacking. No really, try it.

Good things, and bad things, happened this day. I could not be bothered doing my art work yesterday, and I knew that if I was caught with an empty artbook, I would be even more dead than I was now. I had drawn Jem too many times in my 'spare time', heh heh. But, thank the lord who lives in the sky wearing a loin cloth, Miss Tw@ttly was not there. So I drew Jem more times. Kahahahaha! But I have art again tomorrow... damn. So what. I don't care.

Also, the biology. I was told to sort out my folder, and I forgot. Dun dun dun! Thankfully I was reminded at the last minute, and I tried to get the sorting done. However, for some reason a lot of people wanted to 'play' with me. Nikki was tapping me on my shoulder. Charlie was nudging me out of the way. There was a chorus of, "What're you doing?" aimed at me. But I still got it done. And my teacher still didn't appreciate it.

Screw 'er.

So, I will now say about my RE work. We were set a bunch of questions, and these were my answers. I don't remember the questions, but they were all on the lines of how people influence your moral beliefs.

1. Teachers because they drill their personal beliefs into your little skull and in your mind it is right even if it is world-destroyingly wrong.
2. Songs because they stick in your mind and a simple song like, "Old MacDonald," could cause a world-wide religion.
3. 'Friends' because they want to make you into a carbon-copy of themselves, and if you don't believe their tedious little inane beliefs, they will, "Not be mah fweind anymore! Hmph!" And teenagers want to be cool and be with their chavvish sodomite friends. So they hang around street corners at night and rape 93 year old women because their friends like it. So they must.
4. 2 different occupations - Job and career. A career can influence someone into falling on the floor, crying their body fluids out, because they know they're going to be stuck in that occupation forever. Jobs can be quitted and you can staple a picture of your ass onto your boss's face. And laugh.
5. "If there is no life after death, there is no point in behaving morally." There must be a life after death. Where else would your soul go? Just disappear? Is 'God' a magician who zaps the souls away? Even magicians must put their disappearing substance somewhere, even if it is backstage. Backstage is, in this case, heaven, and the bathrooms at the back are the bathrooms of hell. More proof that there is a life after death is all the crackpots who say they've been to heaven and back (much like JTHM), and those naughty people playing with ouija boards who call a spirit from the spirit world. Also, there have been many people who have gotten possessed. Where did the 'possessor' come from? Somewhere. That somewhere is the afterlife. In conclusion, the above quotation is a load of bullsh1t.

Thank God I didn't have to hand that in.

^A rejected DVD cover. I wonder why? Anyway...

I hate it when my sister comes to live with us. It always rips the family appart. Well, rips me from my family.

For y'see, there's a strange schedule I've noticed. A pattern. My sister comes over, is nice to everyone, happy happy happy. Goes to room, sings along to music. Terribly. Still happy. Next day, she's singing to music. If comes in contact with me, laughs at me and generally says how I am an insignificant thing that does not deserve to be in her presence. Family agrees with her, because she's the oldest 'child'. She's almost 20. And she's allowed to get away with it, because she's 'mature' and knows what she's talking about. If I say anything to her, she covers her ears and says, "LA LA LA LA I'm not listening..." And the family copy her. I always bring up one subject that everyone has seemed to forgotten or take no notice of. I was the only child in my family, nay, GENERATION (including cousins, etc etc) to get into Grammar school by taking the test once. My sister failed miserably, not getting anywhere near the borderline. And she says she's cleverer than me because she did GCSEs and A levels (And got Ds as most of her results...). Yes, of course I'm stupid. That's why you're overdrawn in your bank account, and you still go clubbing and partying and buying KFC family buckets for yourself. Sure, you do that. Just get away from our house. Go back to Portsmouth where you'll get raped, as I'm sure by the sounds of you, you'll like it.

She says that if someone stands in front of the TV, they're 'planning where they're going to go next'. While watching TV. I said they're not. Not like that. She said they did, and that's what she does all the time. Cue "LA LA LA LA I'm not listening" before I could say anything else. She also says I have no friends. This is coming from someone who makes friends based on their income. Then stuff happened.

Thing is, this happens every time she comes 'round. She rips me more away from the family than I already am. I keep telling my parents, but they say I'm stupid, then copy her "LA LA" etc thing on me. But they won't listen because, as stupid as Paris Hilton she may be, she is still their favorite, and must be cherished and given £1000 for every visit. So I'm treated more as a stupid thing on the side. Even though I'm supposedly the smartest in my generation. They argue that she's doing MUCH better than me at everything, and she'll get a well-paid job because she talks to people. So what if I don't want to talk to people? If I don't want to, I won't. Why do people want me to socialize? What has that got to do with being, for example, a brain surgeon? Someone who never went to school but could talk to people could apparently, in their mind, get a job as a brain surgeon. Yes, yes I see why. Of course. Uh huh. While the more educated people are dying on the streets, some of the maybe have made some invention that could keep them alive, the stupid ones which only care about sports could be ruling the world, destroying it, and handing it over to invading life forms (aliens).

I hate my undereducated sister. Her arguments are always filled with, yes, PLASTIC wisdom. She is a plastic. And that is probably why she hates me, because all plastics do.

To my sister, if you are reading this, if you CAN read this, I would like to say this to you: Go f*ck yourself, because no one else will.

Back to skool.

How fun.

I hateth skool. Why do we have to go back? What's the point of learning? Come on, some of these juvenile delinquents, nay, most, would not learn anything even if 1 simple fact/whatever was told to them every single day for the next 72 years. Even if it was the same fact.

Speaking of juvenile delinquents...

Today I tried to gain access to my locker. It was bad enough that the easiest access was cordoned off. Building work, AGAIN. My skool's always having builders 'round to do something. Some of them look like they're from the YMCA. ANYWAY, so I went into the block where my locker was. Ah, my locker. It has beautiful grafitti on it, such as, "If you notice this notice, you will notice this notice isn't worth noticing," and, "Help Stamp out Grafitti," written on by the me. And yes, I am the one who keeps writing that in thick black perminant marker in the toilets. I mean, in the toilet cubicles. I also wrote, "These chocolate bars taste like cotton," on the tampon machine. So now you know. Or not. So, erm, away from that. So, I went to my locker. And have you ever seen (the later) Godzilla movie, where our 'heroes' are in Madison Square Garden, and they see all the baby dinosaurs running around? Replace the running with sitting, and baby dinosaurs with plastics. Even worse!! Noooooooooooooooooo!! But, they were EVERYWHERE. I didn't think that that many year 9 plastics could fit in that small space. And why in our locker area?? I don't understand. So, I shouted, "Excuse me," in fact, I shouted it several times. But they didn't hear me. So when I barged through the crowd, they screeched, "You could've been polite and said 'excuse me'." I almost died. I accidentaly 'touched' a girl whose legs were flailing about the place, supposedly dancing to the music she was blasting her ears out with. She screamed, "OOOOOOOOW!! You touched me!!" I gave her a strange look while her friends sympathised. They stared at me, as if to say, "Why can't you FLOAT???????" I just continued, while they laughed at me for not being one of them. How is it that people who are not plastics are not considered 'cool' enough to be a person? So, I got out of that sticky mess. In fact, after I got out, I screamed at them, "FREAKAZOIDS!!" I think a few heard. Good for them.

So, let's stop that rant. I made a rather SHOCKING discovery. Not very shocking, but it kinda shocked me in a 'Have I got it wrong?' way. Thing is, I found a picture of Jem I did ages ago.
Anyone with a quick eye would see what I did 'wrong'. Look, the color of her arms is wrong!! They should be pink!! I paniced at a MISTAKE, and looked at my Zim toy. But that showed his arms red too. Then I looked around for more Zim media, to prove it one way or another. But, then I made an even worse discovery than that...

Lookie!! The arms on the Zim toy's red, and in the cartoon his arms are pink!! Well, that enlightened my year. At least I'm not entirely wrong?

I'll stop b1tching about colors now. XP

Aaaaaaaaaaw, isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever seen?? No? The feeling is mutual, my friend. Look! She's blushing all pink-like! How weird! (I do have a version of her not blushing, but this is a prototype, if you will). God, conscience, anyone, can you tell me why I did this?? Someone? Please? I just wanna know why I drew this!! *cries all crying-like* I'm so scared! AAAAAAAARGH *jumps out of the nearest window, which is her computer. Geddit? Windows? Computer? Never mind.* Now my computer's dead. Great. Anyway, doing what I do in art: stripping the picture down, not in that way, and describe every 1-by-1 pixel. OK... the outline of this picture was drawn on MS-Paint. That was fun. Then I colored it all in using airbrush. All of it. Then I blurred it, not smudge it. The background I had a little help with, with one of the filters. Plus lots of layers, and you get an asinine picture. Stupid text with it too. Stupid stupid stupid picture. STUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPIIIIIIIIIIIIIID. Ugh. Now I have to warn you before you enlargio it... or, if you have, just telling you, the picture's in jpg format, and you know what THAT means... OK, it means it turned out sh1ttier than planned. So now you know. A picture of Jem a day keeps the doctor running off a pier.

Now, back to easter... I hope you all out there who watch their computer screens expecting it to do something by using your mind had a good one. I, however, did not. Well, there was one good point. I got a leeeeeeeeettle more chocolate. My parents did not give me ANY. None at all. My relatives didn't either. No one from my family did, except for Ninja Nanny, who got me the usual, an egg with my name on it. I also got half an egg from Charlie (I ate the first half when I got it...), and one from Jonesy. That's it. So I'm making my parents buy me some Zim shirts from Hot Topic, which is where the 'Destroy everything' and 'Destroying you will be the greatest victory' shirts are from. Then I'm making them get me a GIR toy. I get my revenge.

What I don't understand is why did they buy eggs for my cousins, but not for us?? And my relatives never return the favor. They never have. Even for my birthday, I have to expect nothing from them, or something in pink or some make-up. I know they don't know me. Which is why I covered my last pair of pink gloves and pink scarf in glue and newspaper, and colored my last giant make-up box in eye-shadow. I always find a use for everything. So I demanded that my Mom would never buy them anything again. This may sound harsh, yes, but I'm only standing up for what I believe in. I'm like a sort of communist... Eep. But not only that, the relatives are not religious, and so they turn a religious holiday into a time to annoy us. Speaking of annoyance, I hear some of the relatives are coming tomorrow. Grandad did come today, but he's not annoying. Nah, we just made him watch Futurama.

I would've done much more today, but I couldn't. For when I woke up, even though it was the standard time for waking up, I was still tired, and my head hurt. So I slept a little longer. Then longer. But not too long. But my head just HURT. I had a bath, as I was told that'd cure it. It didn't. It made it worse. So I came downstairs, and watched... something... and I had quickly developed a blockage in the nasal department. 'Twas a cold. And it flowed freely, freely... yep. When I asked if I could have a tissue (please), my Dad said no, despite the fact I was leaking all over the sofa. After a while, he gave in, and I would leak no more! ...until the tissue was so wet I couldn't do anything else but leak some more. Oh, and why couldn't I get it myself? Because every time I stood up, there would be some strange pressure to my head. So I couldn't do anything. After Grandad left, I was told to lie down, but I said I MUST NOT because I was always told I couldn't nap. So I didn't.

So, um... wasn't that so very fun? Easter... the time of re-birth. But I died.

Silence! And, uh, merry Platypus one and all!!

The easter platypus beats the easter bunny by far.

Gaaaaaaaarsp. (intentionally misspelled) Most of my 'fans' will notice I didn't post yesterday. Shock shock, horror horror. But that was because I was supposedly doing my homework, only I wrote just a mere half-page. In three hours. My personal best! Actually, I was more doing... something else. I found some fan-made videos of Invader Zim clips set to some Weird Al songs. Have Eat it, Germs (1 & 2), Angry White Boy Polka, and Dare to be Stupid. Scarily, some of my favorite songs. By the way, random information, Dare to be Stupid isn't all Invader Zim clips, in order of my liking, my favorite ones being first, are Eat it and AWBP, DTBS, germs 2 then germs 1. Yay! Fun! Aren't you enlightened??

Anyway, yesterday... stuff happened. I bought a chocolate sundae from Boots (the shop!) because I was hungry. Thing is, when I opened it... I was not provided with a spoon. No one offered one to me, I couldn't find one anywhere on it, or in a tray or anything, so I had to eat it with my hands. Chocolate everywhere.

But still, I had a random thought. How come I am 'gifted' with being different? Think about it - everyone is like their friend(s), or wants to be like them. I am like no other that I know of. As far as I know, I am 100% individual. I know of no one that is like me, and I know of no one that I am like. Are there any people who are so fan-like that they want to dress like me, have my interests, have my views...? However, I do know of a few people who have similar interests. Like Tayra, a girl I met on ClubDM. She likes cartoons, too, and JTHM, and other things like that. But not entirely a little carbon copy of me. Then there's someone on YT, who's handle is ClashRocker. She likes cartoons, just like me, and she doesn't wear make-up etc etc. Glad to know there's someone like me out there, to know that I'm not the only stereotype fighter. But, unlike with plastics, I am not a carbon copy of someone else, vice versa. My Dad told me today that plastics like to be like their friends, in fear of being 'different' and dismissed from social life because of it. Also, I was pondering ("Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?") about... what would happen if those women who campaign for equal rights, actually got those rights? The world could become a disaster!! Just think of the possibilities!! I recently saw a commercial on TV, something like, "Do you ever have one of those days?" with a montage of 'bad things'. One of these clips was of a woman stepping into a puddle. The world is getting more plasticcy by the minute.

Anyway, right now I'm watching Larry Schmotter and the Chamber of Secrets. Does anybody agree that Dobby looks JUST LIKE Gollum from the Lord of the Rings?

Just a thought.

"OMG!! OMG!!! OMFG!!! WE WERE DIRECTED BY STEVE RESSEL!!! AAAAARGH!! OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!!!!"

Sorry, I've been meaning to do that for some time. And now I've done it. Yay! By the way, this is the scene where the apparent Bloody GIR's supposed to show up. (A Plague of Babies)

So that need has been forfilled. But after this blog entry, even though it's past 11pm, I'm going to have to do my homework. Because then I'll have the rest of my short, short, holiday to do stuff with no worries. In fact, today my Dad came home from work early, to go to the doctors. So I asked him if he could help me with my homework, because it's a bloody essay, and despite my apparent 'talent' for writing stories, essays are impossible for me. So he grabbed a piece of paper. I asked him what he was doing, as he was writing away. He raised his hand, in an act to SILENCE me. So, I just carried on. After about 10 minutes, he walked past me, dropping the piece of paper in front of me. What was on the paper? Well, he had basically written the whole essay for me (except for the quotes... the essay's on Romiet and Julio). I asked him why he did that, because he was meant to help me, not do the whole thing!! He didn't reply, though. Why am I angry? I want to learn how to write essays, not go the easy way. But now, it's just like cheating on a test. I'm not learning anything. Oh well, at least I got most of my essay. Problem is, I can't read his writing.

Now I must scream about some tattoos I've got on me. Then I will scream about going to Grandad's. So, my tattoos. They're not real tattoos, or rub-ons, or anything like that. They're little crappy drawings I did on myself using a permanent marker. I drew the Irken symbol:

Well, that's a sort of lop-sided picture someone did of it. Still, you get the idea. I had two black markers, and so used one on my hand, and the other on my knee. Over a few days, the one on my knee has turned blue, and the one on my hand red. That is weird. So very weird. The two markers are exactly the same; same company, some color, same tip, same everything. But that was pretty weird anyway. I like it.

Now, about Grandad's. I went there with my brother, well, I rode my chopper bike there. And so, we got there shortly, because I don't live THAT far away from him. When we got there, we had, pretty much, nothing to do. Interesting, huh? But he had been cleaning out, and so we searched through some of the junk there. There was one item of junk that interested me... it was this old toy I used to play with when I was, like, 2 or 3. I still remember coming down to play with it before I went to skool... It was called 'GeoSafari' or something, and it was a strange computer-like thing. This one was yellow, though I SWEAR we also have a white one somewhere. F*ck. Told you I swear. Anyway, the 'computer' was a bunch of cards, you typed in the code for the card, and you would press a 'random' button which would flash lights everywhere, finally landing on a random question on the side of the card. Then you would type the code-answer for it. Then it would make a happy sound if you got it right, and a mean buzzing sound if you got it wrong. Here is what it sort-of looks like:

See? They have a little compartment for the cards at the back. Problem with ours was that when you switched it on (How cute! It says 'Hi' on the screen and makes a cheerful sound!! Aww, we need to destroy it.), that was all you could do. The buttons wouldn't work, as the electronics inside were all rusted and corroded and stuff. So, Grandad got some spraying... thing, which 'un-corroded' the electronics. We spent the afternoon spraying it and trying to get the buttons to work. We managed to, in the end, get the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (then it stopped working), 9, and enter buttons working, I think. The random button wouldn't work though :(. So that was a kick in the pants. Then my brother had the BRILLIANT idea that we should open it up and try to fix it that way. What a brilliant idea!! How amazing!! But wait, I feel I've heard that plan before... Oh yeah, I suggested that in the first place. So, opened it up we did. Didn't. We managed to get all the screws on the outside out, except for one. The cross on the screw had been... how to say... well the cross had turned into a circle, as it had been scraped away by other screwdrivers. So, our solution... We got some mini-plyers, turned the screw around gradually, and got it out that way. Ta-da!! Then as we were breaking the machine open, my brother just groaned. I asked why he groaned, and he announced there were two more screws securing it down so we couldn't open it properly. Right... so, in the end we didn't even get so far as getting one screw out, as we had to go home. Aw. But we're coming back!! One day...

Here's a lovely tip you might like. When unscrewing a screw with a screwdriver *claps at the weird repetition of 'screw'*, snap a magnet onto the screwdriver, so when the screw comes out, it attaches itself to the screwdriver. Neato, huh? Just make sure you don't unscrew any screws near any electronics...

Then, in the evening, we went out AGAIN. To go shopping. How fun!!? For some reason (which I do know myself, yes) I was stared at, in some cases, a little excessive. And not just by little kids. This I found unnerving. But after a few minutes, I just didn't care. This song was in my head...

"In every life we have some trouble. But when you worry you make it double. Don't worry, be happy! The landlords say your rent is late. You may have to litigate. But don't worry. Bee Happy! Ain't got no cash, ain't got no style. Ladies vomit when I smile. But does Zoidberg worry? Feh! You wish. Bee Happy! Don't worry now, Amy! Ok, I'm happy! Take us home, Bender! Don't worry! Bee Happy!"

That's from Futurama, by the way, in case you weren't wondering. If you just read the first line and stopped because you hate the 'Don't worry, Be Happy' song, then read it. It's different. All the way through that song, a bee comes and stings everyone causing them to explode. Yay! After this nice smiley I-don't-care-why-you're-looking-you-deadbeat mood for a while, I got sick of it, and started staring daggers at anyone who dared LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEE. I scared the crap outta one family by doing that. Then I just didn't care. Again. But the reason for that might have been because I was leaving anyway.

What a fun-filled day!!

Yay! It's Shloonktapooxis!! "The pirate monkeys!!"

ARGH I have a Fairly Odd Parents song (from School's Out!) stuck in my head and it's really annoying because it's a love song and ARGH ARGH ARGH!!!!!!!!!

Enough of that.

Anyway, the reason for annoying you with another post is because I found a nice leeetle game for us bloggers to play. It's called, "I say, you think..." or something like that. Basically, there's a word, and I (and you!) say what comes into the head first.

1. Blizzard:: Snow
   
2. J:: K
   
3. Control:: Mission
   
4. Blood:: Yummy (strangely enough I'm bleeding right now)
   
5. Mysterious:: Mysteries
   
6. Annoying:: I'm not saying. Heh...
   
7. Throat:: Turkey (?????)
   
8. Condom:: Broke (MWAA-HAA-HAA-HAA)
   
9. Search:: Google
   
10. Heartfelt:: Arrow (ummmm)
    

And more!

1. Legitimate :: Legs
   
2. Angel :: Devil
   
3. Question :: Mark
   
4. Ready :: Steady Go
   
5. Greed :: MEEEEEEEEEE
   
6. Affliction :: Attack
   
7. Ocean :: Sea
   
8. Foolish :: jester
   
9. Digital :: camera
   
10. Chalkboard :: dusssssssst
    
11. Taboo:: Ummmm...
    
12. Poison:: Sick
    
13. 1983:: some time ago
    
14. Tim:: Tiny
    
15. Groovy:: Man
    
16. Italy:: Boot
    
17. Think:: Winnie the Pooh (well, he's always saying 'Think, think, think...")
    
18. Penthouse:: Slags (?)
    
19. Shelter:: Homeless person hit by a bus in the middle of a corn field (I'm concerned too)
    
20. Twinkie:: Cream
    
21. Crippling:: Weight
    
22. Tough:: Meat
    
23. Slinky:: Boinga boinga
    
24. Slogan:: Crap
    
25. Stuffed:: Toy
    
26. Instructions:: Boring
    
27. Expletive:: ...
    
28. Cartoon:: INVADER ZIIIIIIIIIM!!!!!!!!!
    
29. Toddler:: Mindless wanderer
    
30. Insinuation:: Don't know what that means, but it's a long word.
    
31. Leapfrog:: Ribbit
    
32. Co-workers:: Evil, malevolent pieces of...
    
33. Mustang:: Barbecue Sauce (MUST have some TANG)
    
34. Wafer:: Those pink biscuits
    
35. Nicotine:: Smokin'
    
36. Fast food:: MacDonalds
    
37. Suffocate:: Pillows
    
38. Myth:: Aliens, ghosts, paranormal...
    
39. Lane:: Road
    
40. Unexpected:: UFOs
    
41. Country:: UK
    
42. G:: GIR, lol
    
43. Offer:: Catch
    
44. Connection:: Internet
    
45. Quest:: Stinkoman!! ...What?
    
46. Lighthouse:: Crappy production house
    
47. Sycamore:: Tree covered in sick
    
48. Inhumane:: "I'M NORMAL!!"
    
49. Sneer:: Snape (?)
    
50. Weapon:: of mass destruction. DESTRUCTION IS NICE!!


51. Buck :: Teeth... Timmy Turner!


52. Harry :: Potter


53. Play :: ground


54. Monstrosity :: Bohemian Rhapsody *shrugs shoulders*


55. Nightclub :: Drunkards


56. Missing :: People yay!


57. Sprout :: growing growing growing...


58. Flavor :: ice cream


59. Identity :: stolen


60. Saucy :: boy (it's in Romeo and Juliet! "You are a saucy boy!")


61. Reporter:: Annoying
    
62. Mythology:: Dragons
    
63. Wimbledon:: Tennis
    
64. Civilization:: People living in caves
    
65. Punctuation:: plastics
    
66. Party Games:: fun-ness
    
67. Flawless:: Impossible (lol)
    
68. Unprecedented:: Dented!!
    
69. Curry:: Indian
    
70. Tropical:: Island filled with giant ants which eat humans' heads and I'm glad I'm not human oops I did not just say that I mean I like milk and BYE!
    

Psst, I got these things from here!

Ever since yesterday (a long time ago, no?), I've been trying to take part in the Bloody GIR hunt. I don't actually know why, but a lot of people say that GIR is extremely cute, but when they see the bloody GIR they get disturbed beyond imagination. IT'S JUST GIR COVERED IN BLOOD!!!!!!! Anyway, the Bloody GIR hunt...

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away... No, I'm just singing the Saga Begins by Weird Al. Anyway, while Invader Zim was being made, a picture of GIR covered in blood was made, and it was planned that the picture would be included in the series somewhere. However, Nickelodeon didn't like it, so forbade them from using it. So Jhonen, out of spite (you gotta love this guy. No, you GOTTA), hid the pictures of bloody GIR throughout the episodes after Bad Bad Rubber Piggy. They are verrrry verrrrry faint, and you need a quick eye to see them, for they're on for quite literally 2 frames. So far, there've only been three sightings. One is in Mortos der Soulstealer, during the intro theme tune, while the pipes come out of the house. The second is in Bad Bad Rubber Piggy, when the first, I think it is, piggy is thrown into the portal. The third one was very recently discovered, it's in A Plague of Babies during the crash sequence in the beginning (on the left hand side). I spent today watching that episode over and over again to see if I can see it. I think I did, I'm not sure... I didn't spend too much time freezing each frame because my video was cracking up. Anyway, if you see that third Bloody GIR on here, I'd just like to let you know for some reason, that I notified the webmaster of it. So, I'm going to find those bloody GIRs... Jeez, I sound like I'm swearing all the time.

I also decided to do something this holiday. *Correction* The remainder of this holiday. After, or before, heh, doing my homework, I might have a crack at making my own GIR toy, because I can't find any ones I can buy online, *sigh*. That's a hint to you all, anyone see any GIR toys(preferably in his doggie suit), scream at me!! And I'll scream back! With joy! Well, OK, there IS one on eBay right now. But I'm not paying $41 for it. I know I'm desperate, but my parents are not. But, there are quite a few GIR as robot toys... might get one of them. Aren't my shopping adventures interesting? I only internet-shop, by the way. Plus Hot Topic have new t-shirts, and my favorite one that I WAAAAAAANT will be at the bottom of this entry.

ENOUGH OF INTERNET SHOPPING!!!!! Nikki just told me some information that I already knew about IZ. =P She asked if I knew that Jhonen says that the 'G' in GIR doesn't stand for anything. Yessssssss, I know.... I also know that a lotta fans say it might stand for 'Garbage'. Just you try me with IZ trivia, I know everything there is to know about the show. I've taken several quizzes, and on each one I came up with 100%.

Plus I did the saddest thing ever today. But it felt goooood. I didn't have ANYTHING to dooooo!!! I'm not saying exactly what I did, but let's just say... It involves playing with my Zim toy like a 10-year-old (A stool was his Voot Cruiser!! That's his spaceship...). Sad thing is, I think I'm gonna do it again tomorrow. I felt so childish, but it was GREAT!!

Which is another thing I'd like to say, there's a difference between a child and a kid. A child is a small human, 10-11 or under. A kid is anyone under 21. (Or a young goat.) Well, come on! People call 18 and 20 year olds 'kid'. Think about it...... THINK, HUMAN. 21 year olds are still considered 'young', I mean, they're hardly middle aged. So they're still young, and like a young goat, they're still a kid.

I'm saying this because I had a cruddy childhood so I miss being a child.

Made a random discovery today. Jhonen's favorite IZ episode is "Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars", which is, oddly enough, my favorite episode too. And don't think I just decided that it would be that, because it's been my favorite episode since I first saw it, so theeeeeeere. Speaking of Jhonen, he never replied to my email. *sigh* Oh well.

In case you weren't wondering, the episode is about... oh boy, it's quite complicated. If you've seen it already, or just can't be bothered to read my review on it, skip to the next paragraph now. Anyway, OK, Zim has a random monster thing in a container-thing. The monster sucks out brains. In a painful way. He has to monitor the monster, so it doesn't wake up (he wants to release it on the humans). OK, so he put GIR in charge of that task (big mistake). Anyway, so Zim decides that the Tallest, the Irken leaders, should witness him taking over the planet with his brain-sucking monster. And since he just happened to notice that the Massive, the Tallest's spaceship thing, was nearer to Earth than ever before ("Creepy, eh?" "Hey! That's pretty creepy! You're creepy, Zim!"), he suggested they come down to earth and see it all. But, the Tallest made excuses (they hate his guts, really). So Zim decides to get some random technology from a Vortian, another alien, to fly the Massive from his own base. Back at the Massive, a resisting party comes face-to-face with the Massive, wanting to stop Operation Impending Doom 2 (taking over the universe. By the way, Zim ruined OID1 by destroying his own planet ... by accident ... which is why the Tallest hate him). They call themselves... THE RESISTY. But, y'know, Tallest Purple says how that's a stupid name, and Lard Nar, the leader of the Resisty, says, "See, I told you it was stupid! Why do I keep listening to you!?!" That bit wasn't really needed, was it? Whatever. Anyway, the Tallest tell the crew of the Massive to blow them up, to which all of the Resisty members start screaming 'n' stuff. But just as the Massive was about to fire the laser, they suddenly lose control of the ship, and start jerking around in all different directions. The reason? Zim's got hold of it. He's controlling the ship from his base. So, at this point, the Resisty finds this the perfect opportunity to blast at them and, "Get those snacks!!" Back at Zim's base, he finds that he's also losing control of the ship, and finds Dib's also controlling it! (I love the way they display this with, "New player... START" like in a game... but not many people really notice this.) So blah blah blah, Zim and Dib are both trying to control the Massive, the Resisity's blasting at the Massive... Soon, the containment levels of the parasite-monster thing are going critical, so Zim has to go back and deal with that. Meanwhile, a little kid is at the door of Zim's house, where the RoboParents answer it. Then they start playing catch with the kid. Sounds innocent? The kid is the one they're throwing around. Then they go outside and announce to the neighbors outside, "Come on over everyone and help us eat this little boy!" So Zim declares, "WE'RE NORMAL!! WE'RE NORMAL!!" and does a little dance, then grabs the kid from the RoboParents (and throw him). At this point the RoboParents say that was bad manners, and so they're after him, to teach him a lesson (and to play in the toilet). He runs back to his base, and blocks the RoboParents from coming down, where GIR has taken Zim's place on flying the Massive, and Dib's getting annoyed that, "It's my turn!!" So, Zim takes over, after telling a hyped-up GIR to monitor the monster. GIR runs off a little, then falls asleep. Soon, Zim's computer has located Dib's 'spy bug'. Zim finds out that Dib is piloting the Massive via Tak's ship (another episode, don't worry. Unless if you want me to explain that episode as well...). So Zim 'reminds' Tak's ship that it's Irken technology, and so the ship throws Dib out, and turns on him. Meanwhile, the Tallest have figured out the problem on how they can't fly the Massive. So, they beam the transmission Zim had on the Massive's power core onto the Resisty's power core. So now they can't fly their ship. Their only way to get out of this situation is to abandon ship, and activate the 'shrinking self-destruct'. Back on Earth... "Hah! Watch, Dib! Watch as I bring a royal audience to the downfall of the human race!" "I don't wanna watch that!" "Oh, okay. ...WAIT! that's too bad!" Then Dib runs out screaming because Zim called his head big. Aw. Dib's also scared because the Massive's coming, and he can't stop it (NOOOOO). He then looks at the sky, and sees the Resisty's ship, which he thinks is the Massive, coming down to Earth. It then shrinks and shrinks... until it explodes. In a very small way. Dib just stares. Theeeeen, Zim get's a warning from his computer that the monster is awake. Meeeeeeeeanwhile, the Tallest send a transmission to Zim's base. The Tallest just stare, in a shocky-way. Purple throws up at the sight of Zim's base. Here's what they see.

Hey, I told you it was complicated. That's a half-hour episode I've just explained there. Personally, my favorite quote is this:

Zim: You're nothing, Earth boy! Go home and shave your giant head of smell with your bad self!
Dib: Okay... There's all kinds of things wrong with what you just said.

As you can tell, not much has happened today. I don't actually know WHY I just spent all this time explaining it all, when you could've just gone here to get the transcript. I have filled you with Zimmy knowledge!! Isn't that neat?? Now I need something to say. Non-Zim related. Is there such a topic????

Hmm.

Nope, nothing. But I've been trying all day to find somewhere that sells a GIR toy. I've tried everywhere, eBay, Dealtime, Google, Froogle, Ask, Amazon... it seems that no one is supplying them anymore. I have a Zim toy, of course, but a GIR toy seems impossible to get. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA etc. Please scream at me if you find a GIR toy, especially if it's a doggy-suit GIR toy!! ...What? It's called a doggy-suit. Plus I want it. NOOOOOOOW. Yeah. GIR is awesome...

Ooh, here's something non-Zim related, but cartoon-related. Today was filled with Fairly Odd Parents goodness. They aired the original pilot episodes, and new ones too. How fuuuuuuun. Plus there was the airing of a new SpongeBob episode!! Cartoons are the way of life, my child. No I did not give birth to you.

I... I really need something to do for the remaining... 6 days of holiday.

(Holy crap! Purple looks like a hamster!!)

I know this is my third post today. But I don't care.

I've been sitting here. And if you were watching me, you would think I was waiting for someone. Every night I look like this, as if someone was to come. In truth, I know they're not, but sometimes it's kinda fun, in a way, just waiting for something to happen. Sometimes. But it's times like this...

You don't really want to be alone.

This is the main reason for posting a third time, to reach out to someone. I know someone will read this, and this person would most likely be Nikki, Fred, or maybe even Brandon, who has seemed to disappear. Maybe it's someone who doesn't know me, just flicking through all the blogs. But when they finally read this, it'll be too late. The void is opening.

I don't feel like doing anything else. I want to talk to someone, I've GOT to talk to someone. At the moment, this is the only way of doing it. Everyone's seemed to have... gone. It's like they're all running from me. Or like, the apocolypse is happening, but no one wanted to tell me. Sleep is not an excuse. I can stay up to 3am pretty fine. But... but still...

I see only two stars tonight. One is red, and one is blue. They're all hiding from me, too, hiding behind the clouds, trying to get away. Everyone has escaped me. I like to look at the stars, but tonight it's not worth looking up at the sky. It's not worth doing anything. Writing in my blog's something to do, but it's just another scar to remind me of something.

I just want it to stop.

But it never will. Unless if I go, things'll get worse. I wish I could go now so nothing bad would happen. Nothing worse, I mean... But what're the chances of going without doing it yourself? Despite it all, it's not my duty to go. I wish... that something would happen. Something that'd make me go. Make it go. And I hope it happens very soon. I wish I could be wiped out, like a drawing on a whiteboard. One wipe, and there's no trace of it left.

I planned last year that I would go on my birthday, at 1:27pm, in a horrific car accident, but I would be the only one in a critical state. I mourned for the rest of my birthday because nothing actually happened. I was in a car about an hour earlier, but still, nothing happened. Why am I still here? Why did 'the force' stop it? How could it have not happened??

This sounds... just so... stupid and self-pitying. I don't self-pity. That's the last thing I'd EVER do. And I hope I have to self-pity soon (think about what I just said there). But, self-pitiers are just annoying, longing for attention really, and that's how they'd get their kicks for the day. As I said, I'm not self-pitying, I'm just angry that this is all happening. It's like a zombie movie, *most* people would see the movie and know deep down it's not really happening. This is kinda what everyday is like. Especially days like these. However, in this case, it's just denial.

I'm still alone.

It's not like anyone's going to be online, or come and see me. Talking to someone, preferably a friend, is the only way of stopping myself going sh1t crazy, as I've found out. And the only person who does talk to me without asking inane questions once every 3 months, is Nikki. So Nikki, you have now found out that you are the wall blocking me from being like this. Too bad you go to bed early. One night I might do something so imbecilic, that... there would be no going back. Heh. But I can't bring myself to do it anyway. Not yet.

But, why do I get sh1t crazy like this? Is it, maybe, because I'm all alone with no mindless comments from anyone, that I can really think about how things are going? Or is it just the psychological affect from being lonely? Or is it just a psychological defect? Why are all these sentences in this paragraph questions? Stop. There. I wouldn't mind being alone right now if there was something to do, or my surroundings were a little more interesting. Strange thing is, the same effects come with if there were little stars out, or many stars out. It has to be the right number of stars to live happily for another day. Weird, no?

The void is closing. I cannot take any longer of this. Going on and on and on. I feel empty inside and it'd probably be best if I go to bed now. Best to go, before I dodge into the kitchen and slide out the butcher knife. I like the sound it makes as the metal rubs against the slit in the wooden block.

What a nice sound.

Dear Die-ary,

The passions that drive us should be the ones we respect and admire. To feel contempt for one's own motivations is a vulgar thing.

Too often, it seems, I've succumbed to less than admirable compulsions driven by this furiously reprehensible machine of mine.

So many things inside that I can do without - desires and urges and whatnot. So extraneous.

By the time I write in this book again, I hope to be as cold as the moon that lights this page.

Well, that picture kinda balances the title.

But I doooooooo, I dooooooooooo want to kill them. Them're my Mom and Dad. They are just salty pains in my ass, because they want to be. They're always there, f*cking up any situation.

My Mom, the pessimist. The most annoying person in the world. Moans about how she never get's any "'elp," but rejects it when someone offers to. Likes to pull hair (especially when it's long, like mine). Hates her mother, but can't resist talking to her everyday. Likes to get high on lounging by the TV, and snapping at how fat and stupid we are. Likes to cry everyday. Says (and acts on this) that she doesn't want to help anyone. Voice like an old car going around a roundabout. For all eternity. Likes to provoke people to start a fight.

My Dad, the sadist, and possibly paedophile. Likes to 'ambush' people, especially me. Likes to act like your friend, and attack you, then explain that he doesn't like hurting or arguing with you. Has done pretty much all of the martial arts there are. (And got somewhere with them.) Has fake, not false, teeth made of china, so they are sharper than normal teeth. Likes to bite the person he's attacking. Also likes throwing a few karate/judo/whatever moves on you. Is aware that his weakness lies between his legs. Likes to push the victim to the ground and lying on them, or grabbing them and holding them close to him, and when he does this to me I can feel his ...thing... by my butt. Likes to provoke people. Likes to fight whenever, wherever.

That's a small summary of them both. As you can see, Mom is the fight-starter most of the time. Dad is the defender. People like them should be killed anyway, so if I kill them people should not care. If someone kills a massmurderer, are they in the wrong? Uh, I'm not saying my parents are massmurderers, to my knowledge, but you know what I mean.

But both think I'm crazy.

Not good crazy as people say I am, but mental assylum crazy. They think I should be locked away. They think that because I retaliate, and can snap at anything which is slightly annoying, they think I should be classed as criminally insane. So they use the old tudor methods of getting rid of insanity; by beating it out of them.

My Dad also thinks I am extremely paranoid, because I always want to be alone. He thinks I'm looking at p*rn or something. I just want to be alone, I explain in truth, for the simple reason that I always want to be left alone, in solitary, alone, alone, alone. He still looks at me strangely and goes on about how I MUST be paranoid about him finding me doing something I shouldn't, like people never want to be left alone ever. To him, being alone is something NO ONE in the whole wide world would ever want to be.

What a jerk.

What a bloody, motherf*cking jerk.

And my mother!! Always saying how BOYS look at me. When she says that, I say that no one should look at me (their eyes are unworthy). Then she would go on to say that boys looking at me is a good thing, "Isn't it?" "No," I would reply, but I don't want to discuss with the elderly about the term 'as*xual' and how it's linked towards me. If ya get what I mean... The closest I've ever got to that is, "I'm not interested in them." But that also sounds wrong, in so many ways, and I don't want them to think that. She also thinks that I like makeup, and clothes. And when she takes me to buy some new clothes, she doesn't understand why I seem to dislike it intensely somehow... Just SOMEHOW. Like a cartoon character, I have, if you like, 'trademark clothing'. I wear the same thing every single day. Except for underwear, of course... in some cases I don't even change that. I like my trademark clothing. I don't know why people like to dress like everyone else. The parents also think that I have the same interest in music as everyone else. I do NOT, I am an individual. And always will be, in more ways than one.

They think they understand me, but they don't. They don't know me at all. In no ways do they know me. Well, they might know that my real name is Emily, my nickname is Bob, I have a hamster (but they don't know his name's Penfold), I strangely wear similar clothing every day, and I like Invader Zim. That's pretty much it. They don't even know my age or DOB, my allergies, my medical conditions (I have to admit, I have a lot so it's quite hard to remember all of them), or anything else which makes me me. To them, I'm sort of like... someone who 'sells their body', in a way.
"So what's your name, baby?"
"Lucy *giggles*."
"Good enough. Let's get down to business..."
But in my case, they know a few details about me, and suddenly they have the right to dismantle my limbs and decapitate my torso and rip out my brain in any way they want.

A few people have told me I should consult some child-caring service, like the NSPCC or ChildLine, or whatever, but I can't. I'm not allowed to. Heh. Sounds stupidly ironic, but I'm not even allowed to think about telling people about what they do to me. In fact, I once got beat up pretty badly for posting, "Welcome to the house of fun," last month. Was it last month? Who cares. Point is, that's really another reason to be 'paranoid'. They don't ground me (I don't go anywhere), or take things away... usually... just slap me around a bit. A bit? Slap? That's not even close to it. I'm also pretty sure that hitting children is illegal in this country. Especially being hit with an object, which happens a lot. I was thwacked (nice word, no?) with a drumstick today, across my ass.

In conclusion, I want to kill them before anything bad happens. Or, I want them to kill me.

Personally, I think the second choice would be the best.