MAC ROOM TIMES: Early Christmas Spirit

Christmas is getting earlier each year... shops are getting in their Christmas stock, and everywhere is advertising their 'exclusive' Christmas deals. You know what's Christmas-y, and totally awesome??????? Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on Ukulele :D. You know who's even more awesome? UKULELE MIKE, (if you don't know him, then you have no reason to live life anymore). JUST LOOK AT HIS HAPPY LITTLE FACE

HE'S SO HAPPY. I want him to be part of my family. Now. Scientists should create a way of getting someone's genes into another person so their talents and general awesomeness can be soaked up by the rest of the population. Come on scientists of the future... get to it.

 

Observe the concentration on these young musicians, as they witness the beauty that is UKULELE MIKE'S RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEER

Sometimes The World Is A Ridiculous Place

Has everyone gone completely insane?

'Self Control' is an app that blocks certain websites for a limited amount of time, supposedly to help a person concentrate on their work, and is said to be turning people into harder working (yet horrifyingly technology dependent) human beings. One of the problems I have with society hailing this new found concept of 'self control' as if no one had ever thought of it before and believing that the creator of the app should be praised as a new deity, is that it really begs the question, do we really need to be physically unable to access social network sites to be able to get anything done?

Distraction itself is a part of work. Think of everything that won't exist anymore because of a lack of distraction. I'm pretty sure some of the best things in creation were born out of a looming deadline and too much Redbull. Blogs will be all serious, instead of a respite from a long day of pretending to be working. The mona lisa was probably created because Van Gough was supposed to be doing the washing up.

What's even funnier is that the app is programmed so that if it is activated, the user is totally unable to access the internet for 90 minutes. This only creates mental images of people clawing at their iPhone, or smashing ope na laptop to see where Twitter is hiding.

I know my argument is flawed in sooooo many ways,  but it is ridiculous to assume that humanity is so in need of motivation that it requires a third party application to physically disable it's internet capabilities. And if it is, then please find me another humanity to live amongst.

BYE.

If you are a sad human being, here is the link to the app :P

http://www.macupdate.com/app/mac/31289/selfcontrol

The British and Their Pets

Cats, dogs, hamsters, guinea pigs, rabbits, horses, spiders, snakes, alligators, whales, dinosaurs, insects, frogs, Boris Johnson - the British have a weird attitude to pets. In our homes, they assume the role of another family member, while not contributing the upkeep of the household, requiring vets bills and food, and constantly sleeping. But we love them, perhaps because they depend on us (hamsters and guinea pigs), perhaps because they can last a long time and stay with us for some number of years (horses, spiders and tortoises) or perhaps simply because they're cute and fluffy in an insane kind of way (Boris Johnson).

The point of this post, really, is because on Tuesday 25th September, 2012, my cat, Tug was put down. At the grand age of 15, myself and my sister had grown up with him, and he was my mother's third child practically. I didn't know how to approach this post, so here's some of my favourite photos of Tuggles. Enjoy :). 

 

He's either an incredibly pissed off kitty, or he's trying to entice the
camera with smoldering looks. I believe it's the latter. 

BAD EXPOSURE CUDDLES

Bullied into dressing up, Christmas 2011 - he enjoyed it secretly 

A much loved cat of 15 amazing years

On the topic of pets - Scooby the hamster has a blog and twitter - his first post is up - follow him on blogger and twitter :) http://whatdoesscoobydoo.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/scooby-does-memes.html 

A Post About Sarah

:O - what's this, a change - to the url, banner AND name of the blog. Reader, I know you don't like change, and the ever-changing winds of time unsettle you somewhat, but the blog has moved on. Well, it's kind of a moot point seeing as the blog was previously entitled 'CARDS and other irrelevant shizz' when in fact no cards of any kind were ever featured on said blog, so there hasn't really been any 'moving on' in terms of the content of the blog, just a good re-titling really.

Anyway, some time ago, http://everydayimramblin.blogspot.co.uk/ told me to write a post about her. This is that post.

This is my friend Sarah.
Some say her eye is wonky because she ate too many Wonka bars and it went to her head.
Some say she was born from two satellites colliding above the Indian Ocean.
Some say she was raised by raisins.
Some say she's a reincarnation of Louis the racist snail who tragically lost his life in Paris.
Some say her skin is made of denim.
Some say she's the lovechild of Mufasa from the Lion King and Elvis.
Some say she has a crotch of pure gold.
Some say she once broke her face.
Some say she lives in a rooftop village where she can swing from branch to branch with ease.
Some say she shot the sheriff (but she didn't shoot the deputy).
Some say she can speak Narwhal.
Some say she can maim tigers with a single stare.
Some say she has issues with fruit due to her heritage.
Some say she can text with thought.
Some say she has fathered a litter of children in Mexico.
Some say her favourite hobby is painting pictures of the sun on the backs of rodents.
Some say she has more than 8 limbs, but hides them to avoid being asked to do more work with them.
Some say she cleans her home with a mop made out of the hair of Iggy Pop.
Some say she wants to settle down at the age of 30 with only a pound coin and a moustache to keep her company.

I just think she's a bit weird, and possibly a serial killer. But don't let that put you off her.

Sarah, ladies and gentleman.

BYE

Blind Euphoria That Comes With Stupidity

Yes. Everything is capitalised in that title. Get used to it.
Basically, the other day myself and Jessie were talking about a particular social crowd from a very different school to ours. We were asking ourselves why the fuck they were so giggly all the time, seeing as I stand next to a pack of them every morning at the station and they always sound like they're on helium. I know what you're saying reader, Tabs, people are allowed to be happy in the world, not everyone see's it for it's harsh reality like people on YouTube or people who write... pretentious... blogs... Anyway, we worked out that the reason these people are so annoyingly jolly all the time, and here it is. People like this laugh because of the blind euphoria that comes with stupidity, because if you know about all the shit that's going down in the world, you're a depressed mother fucker. So this is it, you cannot possibly be that happy all the time, especially at 7:33 in the morning, without having some kind of delusion about the world you live in. But here you go again reader, with your snappy comebacks to the gist of my blog post, you may be saying, reader, that people simply can be happy and still know about the terrifyingly apocalyptic state of the world because they choose not to let it affect their everyday life and simply enjoy the times they can. I would say reader, that that is actually true, but would undercut our theory which is quite frankly relevant to a small group of people. If this herd of people at my station did, in fact watch the news, contribute to charitable causes in our society and basically give a shizz about the state of the world, past, present and future, then I suppose this blog post would not be targeted at them. It is rather aimed at those who make no effort to even consider the bad times, in any effort to remember the past out of respect or to learn for the future. It is rather aimed at those who shield themselves from the cruelties of the human race in order to keep their world a happy, fairy-tale place and in doing so bury their empty but euphoric heads in the metaphorical sand. This is why it's important to visit places like Auschwitz, out of respect and it's also important that every human being understands the horror of the past so that the future bears no resemblance, so no more head burying, humanity. Got it? Good.

This blog post got quite deep quite quickly, and i apologize. This is what happens when I write without a plan :P. In exchange for your reading, I implore you to settle your gaze upon this image and just remember, if you've ever stuck your head in the sand...

BYE

A Blog Post About Blogging

Why do people blog? 

In the ancient times, when dinosaurs ruled the earth, before the existence of iMovie, Adobe or (if you are particularly traditional) Windows Movie Maker, movies were edited by physically cutting up pieces of film and sticking them together. Obviously, film making has developed since what can only be described as the dark ages of media, and nowadays we can all edit movies (although quality is still down to the editor - and the editor can still be crap at a professional level as I am yet to watch one Friends episode without a continuity error, it's as though the progression of time does not apply to the six Americans with faultlessly interesting yet sadly fictional lives) from the comforts of your own PC (or mac, if you swing that way). YouTube has meant that amateur films can be globally shared in seconds. Now Tabs, what are you talking about with this media studies analogy, your exams are over silly - you don't need to revise this - STOP NOW. Well, hypothetical reader, it is because I am using this film analogy to continue on to describe how journalism has evolved. God damn it hypothetical reader, you're feeling impatient today. So, just as film has been adapted to suit the common man, we will call the common man Andy, journalism has become more accessible. Andy wants to be a journalist, and thanks to the simplest of modern day technology (the internet), he can practice writing on a topic, for the world's toughest critics, the general public of the world. Andy can provide the world with his insight on topics in a particular field, or can just ramble in a topical blog on whatever comes into his mind when he has a spare moment. But I suppose journalism isn't the only reason people blog. If Andy was particularly hating of the Irish (don't ask me why, Andy's a complex man), he could start a blog detailing their faults and flaws. If Andy wanted to advertise his cake decorating company, he could blog about the trials and tribulations of being a young cake decorator, and describe the company's development. Andy might even start a blog to get back at Arnie, his old friend, but that's a dispute not fit for description, and doesn't have much to do with the reasons people blog. 

The bottom line is blogging has made it easier for the common man (Andy) to make his views heard to the world, and in my opinion this is the main reason people blog. People blog for themselves primarily, but with the desire to be heard globally (Andy doesn't, he just wanted the cash from Ad-sense because he lost his job to a bear selling weed, but that's another tale). 

BYE 

Jumping on the technology bandwagon :)

Recently, this blog was created http://jessiebartholomewforeveralone.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/how-technology-is-making-me-go-wrong.html, which was then countered with http://aviewfromaworldobsessedwithsuccess.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/technological-stuff.html. Oh the teenage years go so fast...
So, Jessie is scared of technology. We all gathered that much, but Zoe challenges the ideas presented by technology that many seem to be so excited by.

Yes, the internet can result in a dialect change, particularly to an accent from a country you have never visited, and yes, blackberry's sometimes feel like one of those mobiles from the 80's in your pocket. My view, however, is as a 16 year old, I have encumbered some of the best years for technology. I was born just young enough to witness a 3 channel television, VCR's, the insanely heavy white computers with Windows 95 and a GREY toolbar, mp3 players (the ones with the USB), tape players, PlayStation 1 and obviously the iconic Gameboy (the massive grey brick with about 5 buttons).  However, we have witnessed a rapid evolution of technology in these years - the movement to Sky and now smart TVs like this (see large image to the right). We've watched computing develop from a 4 piece tonne of a console to a feather-light, little tiny, miniscule <insert more modifiers for small> fold away laptop. The evolution of games consoles is another blog post in preparation - just because it's a big topic. Bigger than ya mum. No offense, tell your mum i think she's quite nice, that particular dig was directed at you and not your mother, etc. etc. friends for never etc. (If you don't get that then please take a minute to re-evaluate your music taste... and now your existence on this planet). So, all in all it's been quite a good technological world for the past 16 years - and the fact that everything is moving on so well and so quickly has to be an incredibly exciting prospect, even for the Jessie's of the world.

As for language. While I am a firm believer in the necessity of correct grammar and punctuation, and will be forced to remove the tongue of any person who feels they are above the English Language and therefore cannot pronounce their own words, it has to be said that language naturally progresses and develops. The 'lol' of today is merely the 'gee' of 1936 (although how anyone can say the word 'gee' and not automatically chunder at its appearance in their language i have no idea). Language is always changing, and in many years (hopefully) to come, our children might just disown us for using such out of date language as 'rofl-copter' (one of my personal favourites - that's right, i have favourites - although whichever conceited person created 'yolo' must receive the tongue treatment).

So that's it, language will evolve no matter how annoying it may become - i'm pretty sure people in the 19th century were creating scripts of disdain at the abandonment of the humble 'thee', in the same way we are blogging about the future use of our precious, precious language.

And now, to really piss off Zoe, I will end the blog post with this. Laterrrrzzz boiii, wil c u all @ sum point yea? In other words, farewell readers, i hope we shall meet again in the future.

BYE.

Why Short Hair is a Beast

There are many reasons why short hair can make life awesome. I know what you're thinking - this is just going be another generic post where she lists certain aspects of one part of her life, and rest assured. That is sooo what this post is.
1. Short hair means that it isn't easily grabbed. Why is this a bonus? For obvious reasons - why are you even asking if it's obvious. God reader - you're so single minded... If your hair is close to your head, murderers, rapists, muggers, bullies and Sarah cannot use it against you. Simples.
2. Kind of following on from point 1 - short hair is easier to contain in such every day situations as hurricanes, when on a roller coaster, when being held upside down by a troll in the girl's bathroom. To fully understand this phenomenon we must first look at the alternative. Long hair is flowy, easily caught up in roller coaster machinery and annoying for the troll holding you upside down in the girl's bathroom. With the bonus of a smaller hair radius, these painful situations can be avoided. Apart from the troll one, that bitch was planned by an evil wizard who currently resides on the back of your Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher's head, no hair radius is gonna solve that.
3. Long hair can (not always) mean evil. Look at Osama Bin Laden - that beard was the longest mofo ever. Other beards were terrified of it, feeling inadequate in their mass and volume. Obviously this backs up my point enough cos we all knew how much of a bitch Bin Laden was. I rest my case.
4. Short hair is more fun. Let me ask you a question. Can you with your long hair - manipulate it into one single horn on top of your head, and spend half an hour pretending to be a Triceratops? I didn't think so. I can. Sucks to be you really. And I have short arms - now I can be a T-Rex and a Triceratops. I feel your jealousy.
BYE

The System

Don't panic guys. This isn't an anti-conformist fuck the man speech. Though it may turn out that way if things get heated. Anyway, recently, myself and http://everydayimramblin.blogspot.co.uk/ had one of our always entertaining conversations with a particularly easy going teacher. The plot line of the conversation went something like this:
We're all tired.
Education is tiring.
Education shouldn't be this tiring.
Let's go home.
It's true, education is necessary to get top careers in the scary new planet called the "real world". Don't get me wrong, the education we get is great and we are totes, blates, obvs, lucks to get it. However. There are aspects of education that were just better before everything got all 'elite'.
Teachers take note - students react worse when you speak to them as if they were a toddler who just crapped themselves. Writing as a student who... has had a ... fair share ...of ... teacher confrontation, things go a lot smoother when 15, 16 year olds are spoken to with the same level of maturity as is expected of them.
Now that that's sorted out. Head teachers take note - teachers can't be constantly pushing. While we appreciate that in that place we spoke of before (the real world), the best jobs and uni places will go to those with the highest possible grades - there is no break. Teachers and students just feel totes burnt out after a good 7 years of intense secondary education - with exams at the end of every year since the age of 11. That's why students don't give a shizz - they gave a shizz in year 7 when they rolled up with new stationary and optimism, but now all the shizz that they gave has been worn down - there is no more shizz in the world ladies and gentleman.We have teacher support to back this claim up - so yeah... go do head teacher-y stuff - work out attendance percentages or something...
Everything's just way too narrow. In this educational world you either survive the years and come out with the best grades, or you go under and drown. Not actually drown - that would imply that the best education is done at sea - and that would be silly. How would you write? Unless you were on a boat - but then the sharks might go all 'Jaws' on you and start munching on your mate while all the blood comes out his mouth. So basically - the moral of the story here is... don't drown? I can't remember - like i said earlier - I'M TOO TIRED. So yeah - my opinion on education is that everyone should just chill maybe - and i know i'm no role model for chill - but school should be. Chill like a mother bitch.

BYE

Alter-Egos

Alors, 

When I was thinking to myself today, "I'm in the mood to do a blog post", I did the usual thing of thinking of something in the last week that has stuck out to me as important. However, this last week has been a blur and to be honest the last thing I remember is thinking to myself today "I'm in the mood to do a blog post". So, instead of creating a deep, witty blog post, I decided to paste a photo of people's heads onto the bodies of more famous alter egos of those people. Enjoy my creations. I call the collection "Splicey Times" 

I call this creation "Starshites by Nicki Bartholomew". It is an expressionist piece depicting a friend's desire to be a black rapper. Perhaps indicating man's desire to be cooler than it actually is?

 "My Heart Will Go On" 

"Danger Days, True Lives of Fabulous Retards" 

"Winnie the Dave" 

BYE

Oh, it's been a while...

So, Wednesday has been and gone and then been again, and then fricked off again. That's a bit awkward. So this is a walrus, created on a Saturday - I called it Jack-Dawson-From-Titanic-Alrus, for your reading pleasure.
Also, while I have your obvious undivided attention, there are some matters that have recently arisen which must be addressed. One of these is a specific advert. It's an advert which you may have come into contact with, and you will know if you have, for a Magnum Infinity. In this particular advert, a woman, who is wearing wayy too bright a dress, eats the Magnum and then it just reappears. This has to be false advertising? My poor cognitively challenged sister spent a good period of time searching YouTube and Google to see 'how it grows back'. There must be others in this world who will be utterly disappointed when they buy their Magnum Infinity and then realise that actually, it is just an ice cream. There are no magical powers. God is not making his presence known through the medium of this particular ice cream. Obviously on the basis of this advert I am likely to never purchase a Magnum again, and rest assured, a strongly worded email has been sent. This. Is. Not. Chill. (Lol - puns ftw). Little mini-rant over. Enjoy

The Caravan Times

Oh Hai. I'm in my caravan. Why? I hear you ask through the continuums of time and internet as by the time you are probably reading this i will have hopefully been let into my home. I am in my caravan because karma my friends, does not exist. It's the first day of the Easter holidays, and yet I still found myself at school for the English Language revision times. I know. I'm such a devoted student, it's almost like i want to succeed in the future. However, I soon discover that due to my dedication to my studies, I have in fact left my house without a key. So now I sit, bored of practice English Language papers because my educational awesomeness can only go so far, in my caravan in my front drive with a warm can of 55p Dr Pepper and a netbook that is only just picking up the wifi from my house.

I was just about to wrap up this post when a drunk guy walked down the alley next to my house. It was funneh.

Aaaaaaannnyyway, this is my predicament at this time of writing. Just thought i should let you guys know in case you wondered to yourself 'huh, I wonder what Tabs was doing at 5:00 this evening'. This is your answer.

BYE

Walrus Wednesday

Guys.
I do not want to alarm you.
I do not want to create hysteria.
I do not want to be the sole cause of a massive riot across Tonbridge, violently protesting in favour of the information i am about to install upon you.
I have been given the knowledge from a higher power.
That today.
Wednesday 28th March.
Is indeed.
The first ever.
Walrus.
Wednesday.
We all understand the symbolic meaning of hope that the humble walrus has brought upon us during all times of need.
We all understand the difficulties facing animated walruses, as they are killed daily by e-poachers in a disgusting bid for their Microsoft Paint colours of wonder.
It is for this reason that I aim to rise the walruses to fame.
Therefore, every Wednesday, we will be meeting another walrus, newly rescued from the e-poachers.
I continue to thank you for your support in this worthy, worthy cause.
Buzz Lightyear-alrus

BYE

I'm in a deep mood...

I don't know why, but every so often I get into this mood - where everything is a question, and an answer at the same time. I call it my 'no-sleep-for-you' time. This is because whenever i'm in this deep mood and i find myself going to bed, i'll be happily drifting off to sleep when suddenly I get hit by a massive brick wall of a thought - 'what happens when we die?' - but what does? Because one minute we're there, then we're just not. Plus, is it like when you're asleep but you're not dream

ing - when you don't even have any awareness of anything - you're just gone? Where does your whole personality thing go? I know it's all chemicals - I don't even wanna start thinking about afterlife cos tbh i have school tomorrow and i kind of wanna be conscious for that and not catching up on pointless lack of sleep but WHAT HAPPENS?

I'd like to think that you stay as a ghost - cos i would be a bitch of a haunter. The thing with that whole argument though - is if dead people can be bothered to go to extraordinary lengths to pass into another whole dimension, why would they simply move a lamp, or pick up a chair? Why not actually tell us living that there is another dimension rather than spending precious energy on moving household objects. I can do that. It's like me knowing the meaning of life and, like the bitch i am, keeping it to myself and instead of unleashing the answer that has been hungering the human

race for centuries, I throw cutlery at some unwitting person. Is that analogy too distant from the original point? I don't know - like I said - my lawyer will have the answers.

Answers are weird - why do we always want answers? In my opinion i think the human race are still stuck writing the questions. The whole meaning of life thing ties in here - it's just irritating. The human race is so naive and childish that it spends its existence trying to find out why it has an existence. Why are people still hung up on the whole meaning of life? If the human race was granted the answer to any question, I bet we would ask 'what is the meaning of life?', because we've been saving it for centuries. However, what we haven't realised yet, is that in keeping the question for so long - the answer has probably come and gone thousands of times, different answers are being thought up and presented, but the human race are continuing blindly - because it's not the answer we want. We want something beyond ourselves. We don't want to hear all the usual answers, we are desperately holding out for something new that just isn't going to arrive. Deep. Don't get me wrong - science and all that finding out stuff about the universe is blates exciting but the meaning of life has to be different for everyone - surely? Too deep - got a bit carried away... too deep... i'm drowning in meanings of life...

BYE

Sometimes I...

Sometimes I make friends,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I wonder if Pringles rule the world,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I stick luminous paper on my face and glue my forehead, then stand by a wall and pretend to be a post it note,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I sit in my garden, eating a biscuit, pretending to be Bear Gryllis,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I do an expressive dance while talking to a blind person for the irony,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I go to London and lick people's backs,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I play hopscotch with one leg Steve,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I play ping pong,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I play 'Thunderbirds Are Go' by Busted and walk around pretending to be a puppet,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I dream i'm a walnut,
Sometimes I don't,
Sometimes I hiss at people as they walk past me on the train,
Sometimes I don't,

The End

BYE

Sarah's Birthday Message

Young Children

I don't understand them, children i mean. I'm just not good with small humans. They always want to interact - which is fine, i'm competent now at interaction, but we seem to have some communication issues. I don't know what the f*** they are saying half the time, and they don't know what the f*** i am saying most of the time. They scream and jump and I mumble and panic, this eventually culminates in me babbling in a corner while small children swarm across the house, as word has gotten out that small child A's babysitter has no balls whatsoever, so now they're playing with the gas fire and smashing the television while a dubstep version of the lazy town theme tune is blazing from a Spongebob speaker and i slowly start to doubt whether or not i'll make it through, or whether they might follow through on their threat of killing me slowly with lego.

I'm not good with kids. They scare me, i'm fine when they're aggressive - you just shove it in a corner and throw chocolate at it until it's quiet for 10 minutes. But most children, I swear to God, play sick mind games. I'm talking about hide and seek. Who the f*** came up with hide and seek? It's just an excuse for the little psycho you are supposed to be looking after to terrify a babysitter by 'hiding' half way up the M25. Not good times.

Their toys also make me want to take everything that is good and peaceful in this world AND DESTROY IT. You can get flashing toys that sit in your peripheral vision until you finally snap and stamp on it, much to your child's anguish. You can get toy ray guns that make a constant wawawawawawawa sound that you can't drown out, ever. But the absolute worst toy in the world, that must have been created by a toy making descendant of Hitler himself, is the toy keyboard - i'm talking about the ones with the alphabet on it. The ones which repeat every letter after you've pressed it in a slimy american accent. The only thing that can rectify this toy's uselessness is the fact that perhaps 30 seconds of entertainment can be found from using the letters F, K, C and U in a particular order and then you're done and the small child finds it and repeatedly presses the letter E while screaming the word 'cat' but you can't tell it that the letter E is not in the word cat because that would be acknowledging the toy's existence, opening the window for interaction with the toy that you will have to engage in because now the child has remembered you exist, and want you to join them in the pressing of the letter E.

This is why I will never succeed as a teenage mother. Or a mother. Or an adult. Or a socially functioning human...

BYE

Things That Are Awesome Things

So it's valentine's day - yay... so very single ... so here are some of the things in life that should lighten the mood for all the single people, and the people in relationships with controlling morons... enjoy :)

1. When they say the title of a movie... IN THE MOVIE.
When this happens, I can literally feel my smile. A few examples include, Insidious, The Matrix, Jurassic Park, Texas Chainsaw Massacre... i could go on. But I won't, for your reading experience. It's even better when the name of the film is said with emphasis, like the director knows you know it's the name of the film and you know the director knows it's the name of the film - it becomes an in joke with the director, like you have one more friend in this lonely existence.

2. When you're playing Doodle Jump and you get the jet pack AND the bubble of invincibility... and you feel like you can do anything.
I mean anything. Every time this happens, there's a sad little part of me that hopes the game will glitch and i'll stay this way FOREVER, conquer the world and become the prime minister of Malaysia. And then it ends and i'm back to my powerless lack of dictatorship.

3. When an assortment of Apple products accumulate in one location.
This is why I spend as much time as I can in the Apple Store. It's something about the way it all looks unique but so TOGETHER. And it's so good to use... and when it's all used together... sharing files and software effortlessly... in such a nice way. It's just so... nice. Omnomnomnomnom.

I'm gonna go watch The Matrix while playing Doodle Jump on my Apple iTouch and pine after Macbooks on Amazon... it's gonna be a good evening guys...

I Am So Tired...

... my eyes feel like they're conducting a terrorist attack on my face

... I make dead people look like the picture of sunshine

... when I close my eyes, I find myself in an alternative dimension, with chickens... and sporks

... my arms feel like pillows... PILLOWS OF LEAD

... when I yawn, severe weather warnings are issued

... I screamed at my blanket because it wasn't 'blanket-y enough'

... my face is melting off my head

... i'm praying for a random coma possession where I go into a world of dead people and get trapped by a guy with a red face

... South Park doesn't make sense

... i'm hallucinating white specks in the sky

Just thought I should let you know... cos you all care so much about my tired-ness. I JUST WANT TO SLEEEEEEEEEEP.

Unexpected Mushrooms

'Unexpected mushrooms' is the technical term for those little things that make you want to want to find a tiny kitten with big blue eyes and a little chirp of a meow and DESTROY IT. I was eating lasagna the other day, and i felt a strange sensation - one i had only experienced by accident a few times before in my 16 years of life. A mushroom had stowed away in my forkful of pasta cargo. There was a greasy, slimy slug blob in my harmless forkful. I had no choice - I had to force my mouth to continue with the otherwise enjoyable task of chewing until i could swallow the mushroom without further slime or taste.

These little things in life, these tiny irritations, can turn a good time into a total wank job.

EXAMPLE

- People who don't control their children. Children can be sweet, at the best of times. The rest of the time they are too loud, too quiet, too hyper, too lazy, too cocky and also too shy. I know they do this by nature - I was all of these things, plus i was prone to angry outbursts. It's when the miserable, sleep deprived shells of human beings they call their parents just can't control them anymore that things get out of hand. It's when you're trying to have a meal in a restaurant and there's a small child with a ray gun that blasts decibels of pain while flashing red and green on the table next to you, setting off epileptics left, right and center with the sudden lights and screaming to the point where the old deaf guy sitting upstairs asks the manager to turn down the volume. CONTROL YOUR OFFSPRING. It's your fault for procreating in the first place - learn the sacred art of contraception perhaps? The lasagna in this analogy would be the restaurant - fairly enjoyable, nice food, good atmosphere - ice in your Diet Coke. The mushroom would be the child - not expected, beyond control.

Tabs's Coursework Survival Guide

Welcome students, brethren, people with nothing better to do than check their Facebook newsfeed and click on a link to a random blog posted by a year 12 on a Saturday Night. Today, we will be learning how to complete coursework, any coursework, to the best of your fantastic ability.

Step 1 - The Coursework Title

Try to prevent writing this down in the first place, there is obviously something way more interesting in your bag which must be attended to, you may have a text from your mother for example, or a pencil may have escaped from the sanctuary of your Blott pencil case and should be restored. The full title can be later accessed via facebook or by text from a disgruntled peer.

Step 2 - Time Management

Spending time on coursework is overrated. This section is largely dependent on the type of coursework you are set. An essay, for example, due in 2 weeks and of about 3 pages long should be forgotten for approximately 14 days, until the morning of the due date. I know this sounds somewhat unconventional, however i can guarantee you, you will have a lot more time to spend on The Sims and arranging book shelves over the two week period. Winning.

Step 3 - Coursework Content

If we are continuing with our 'essay' analogy, ensure that the essay is modest. Notes can be obtained from friends over Facebook, and I always find that google-ing the essay title brings up some incredibly usable material. This can usually be done on the evening of the due date, however can be done the evening before the extension due date, or the evening before the extension of the extension due date... or not at all if your teacher is particularly gutless.

Step 4 - Distractions

There is a common misconception regarding the helpfulness of distractions when completing coursework. Distractions are the brain's way of telling us to be inspired elsewhere. A Romeo and Juliet essay can always be livened up with a Super Mario 64 analogy as you casually control Mario around a world made out of lava and fire and liken it to the theme of fate. Other times, distractions are the brain's method of stopping you killing yourself and everyone around you. Coursework always seems less stressful when it's done in front of Friends or Spongebob, or when you are completing it between levels of Tetris.

Step 5 - Handing In

Now. You've been set coursework 3 weeks ago and it's the extension of your extended due date. There's no need to print out the coursework, it might be on your memory stick. Make sure you arrive to your lesson in a bad mood and preferably late, this leaves the best impression on your teacher. As your teacher asks for you coursework, you should probably scowl a bit and ask to go print it off. Then grumble your way out the room and in the general direction of the toilets / cafe / common room. Don't worry about being prompt back to the lesson, the teacher is probably enjoying the lesson and you don't want to ruin that. Go and have the wee wee times or get a dr pepper from the cafe. When you return with your half a page essay, ensure you are suitably depressed so the teacher doesn't question the sparsity of the work with ease, then sit, moody in the back of the lesson and listen to some good music.

By following this guide you are sure to recieve that U grade you crave so much in the summer, happy schooling :)

ps please don't take this seriously... and don't blame me if you do and get KILLED.

SPORK

What we do for our Media AS levels...

Picture the scene, it's 2:00, there are three 16 year old's patiently waiting at Sevenoaks Station for their train to Headcorn. They are excited, with an optimistic outlook on life and an enthusiasm for their educational endeavors...

This optimism continued throughout the day, as the children were joined by two others and set off to film coursework at an abandoned care home.

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The children decided to shoot the last few scenes quickly, as it was getting colder and darker and they had run out of Haribo and Chewitts, they resolved to head back to the train station and get on the 5:15 train from Headcorn back to the safety and warmth of their loving homes...

5:05 - Happy that the children had missioned it sufficiently to the station and arrived with time to spare, they stop to buy chocolate from the vending machine, happy with their lives in the knowledge that within the hour they would be home. Sarah checks the train time and notes that the train standing at platform 2 heads to Charing Cross and, ultimately, home. Her lack of social and cognitive functioning leads Sarah to forget about this information as the group set off for platform 1, laughing at the stupid train that was standing at platform 2 for ages. "Stupid train... not going anywhere... we are so much better than that train ... that train should bow down to us in our intellectual capacity"

5:13 and 55 seconds... the children sit in a shelter opposite the train heading to Sevenoaks and watch as it slowly pulls away, thinking nothing of it but counting down the final few seconds until it has finally left out of mundane boredom.

No trains pull into platform 2.

5:20 - no further trains pull into platform 2.

Tabs checks her phone and informs the group that their train should be at 5:14 , on platform 2. This sinks in, as the children realised they would have to wait another hour until they could begin to get home. Sad, sad times.

After 20 minutes of a limited game of eye-spy (by limited i mean we had the few options of "staff only door" and "salt bin"), the chavs turned up, ruining our innocent laughter and hilarity. They threw rocks at us. It was probably because Jessie's face looked like this -

After the chavs left, their night out at Headcorn Train Station undoubtedly ruined because they could sense the Shakespeare radiating from Alice's phone, we stayed in our shelter. We feared they would return and would find us trespassing on their side of the station, the infamous Platform 2. The train arrived, good times, and the group crossed quickly to the correct side of the station and hopped on :). But Tabs could not relax - could you with this next to you?

Tired, cold, hungry and bored, the children rode home, listening to an angry Irish woman claiming she doesn't have to buy train tickets because of her two children (we did not see any children... awkward), attempting to high five a conductor but wimping out and rationing out Skittles and Dairy Milk. Tabs arrived home at 7:00. She almost missed dinner.