donderdag 27 september 2007
woensdag 26 september 2007
Down to the Wire...
Tomorrow, I have my test. If I do not pass, I am going to slit my wrists.
Just kidding, I was just told that that may be "insensitive" to people who have borderline personality disorder, so I retract my statement.
However I am not going to remove this passage, because I am seeking attention.
I found this picture when I google imaged "borderline" I think that these borderlines are angry, thoughtful, shamed, and/or child molesters.
Just kidding, I was just told that that may be "insensitive" to people who have borderline personality disorder, so I retract my statement.
However I am not going to remove this passage, because I am seeking attention.
I found this picture when I google imaged "borderline" I think that these borderlines are angry, thoughtful, shamed, and/or child molesters.The truth behind 9-11 - Parts One and Two
This is the first in a published series, by myself, on the truth behind 9-11.
Do you remember when 9-11 happened. I do, I was in English class, 12th grade, and it changed my life forever. When I saw those towers fall, it was the first time in my life that I had the ability to watch network television for two hours straight without having one advertisement. Oh the irony, I cried, as the networks came together and blocked four hours of my favorite soap operas.
I remember cursing Osama for this. He and his terrible gang of tyrants and freedom haters robbed me of the only freedom I had. The freedom to watch Passions, then Days, then Guiding Light. That day reminded me of how much I had, and how much I had to lose.
It was years later when I was sitting in on a local liberal meeting at Cornell Hall when I learned the truth about 9-11. I remember thinking, when college students say truth, they mean it. I mean they all read the Stranger and studied freshmen level philosophy, so they knew that truth can only be used when it takes into account everything. But they lied, for I too, have uncovered the truth behind 9-11.
End Part One
It was early in the morning, on January 25th, 2001, President Bush was new, and Jacques Chirac was visiting from France. They were both brothers in the same Secret Society, The Society of Coitus Supremus. Bush was nervous like a little school girl to have his first meeting with the weathered and older French Politician. Little did George, or any of his friends know that this encounter would change the course of the world.
As Chirac was getting off of the plane, He jumped forward quickly, scaring his closest confidant and security guard Guillaume. Chirac screamed in French, get out of my way or I will fire you all. Normally Chirac did not behave like this, especially not around the press, but he felt like he was suffocating in the plane. There mere thought of his wife and 23 year old mistress travelling together in the same Airbus plane made his skin crawl. His wife most certainly knew of his mistresses existence, she even referred to her as "La Salope" when with close confidants. But Jacque was from a different school of politics, the school where you keep your mistresses separated from your wife. It was how De Gaule had done it, and Chirac was damned if he wouldn't do the same.
He breathed the fresh air at Camp David; slowly, his anxiety began to pass. Only then did he realize the true gravity of his trip. It was this burden that had caused such a decline in his temperament. The press was ripping him to shreds over the past months. Most thought that it was because he was not popular with the Unions, but they did not know the real reason. Chirac had felt his soul blacken over the months with shame and guilt. Guilt which was induced by the knowledge of what he had to do.
He walked down the tarmac listening to the national anthem and waving to the much more docile American press corps. It was much unlike his first trip to the United States. He had worked as a deck boy for a French Fishing ship of the coast of St. Pierre et Miquelome and would go to Boston once a month to pick up contraceptives for the all male crew of L'Espoire Dominicaine (The Dominican Hope).
Finally he saw George, still young (for a leader at least) and yearning to lead his people, a people who unfortunately hated him. He grabbed George's soft and subtle hand, turned to the cameramen for a few opportune shots. He then ever so casually leaned over to George to say, "Let's go somewhere private, where we can talk. " It threw chills up George's spine. George found his accent intriguing and was thrown off. He had never had feelings like that for a man before. He was sure this would be a meeting of true substance.
End of Part Two
An Appendix to Parts one and two:
All of the facts in here can be referenced to the Book The Truth Still Hurts - A study of Plausible Causes and Effects of 9-11 written by Professor Charles B. Kendelsson from the Warren County Community College.
Do you remember when 9-11 happened. I do, I was in English class, 12th grade, and it changed my life forever. When I saw those towers fall, it was the first time in my life that I had the ability to watch network television for two hours straight without having one advertisement. Oh the irony, I cried, as the networks came together and blocked four hours of my favorite soap operas.
I remember cursing Osama for this. He and his terrible gang of tyrants and freedom haters robbed me of the only freedom I had. The freedom to watch Passions, then Days, then Guiding Light. That day reminded me of how much I had, and how much I had to lose.
It was years later when I was sitting in on a local liberal meeting at Cornell Hall when I learned the truth about 9-11. I remember thinking, when college students say truth, they mean it. I mean they all read the Stranger and studied freshmen level philosophy, so they knew that truth can only be used when it takes into account everything. But they lied, for I too, have uncovered the truth behind 9-11.
It was early in the morning, on January 25th, 2001, President Bush was new, and Jacques Chirac was visiting from France. They were both brothers in the same Secret Society, The Society of Coitus Supremus. Bush was nervous like a little school girl to have his first meeting with the weathered and older French Politician. Little did George, or any of his friends know that this encounter would change the course of the world.
As Chirac was getting off of the plane, He jumped forward quickly, scaring his closest confidant and security guard Guillaume. Chirac screamed in French, get out of my way or I will fire you all. Normally Chirac did not behave like this, especially not around the press, but he felt like he was suffocating in the plane. There mere thought of his wife and 23 year old mistress travelling together in the same Airbus plane made his skin crawl. His wife most certainly knew of his mistresses existence, she even referred to her as "La Salope" when with close confidants. But Jacque was from a different school of politics, the school where you keep your mistresses separated from your wife. It was how De Gaule had done it, and Chirac was damned if he wouldn't do the same.
He breathed the fresh air at Camp David; slowly, his anxiety began to pass. Only then did he realize the true gravity of his trip. It was this burden that had caused such a decline in his temperament. The press was ripping him to shreds over the past months. Most thought that it was because he was not popular with the Unions, but they did not know the real reason. Chirac had felt his soul blacken over the months with shame and guilt. Guilt which was induced by the knowledge of what he had to do.
He walked down the tarmac listening to the national anthem and waving to the much more docile American press corps. It was much unlike his first trip to the United States. He had worked as a deck boy for a French Fishing ship of the coast of St. Pierre et Miquelome and would go to Boston once a month to pick up contraceptives for the all male crew of L'Espoire Dominicaine (The Dominican Hope).
Finally he saw George, still young (for a leader at least) and yearning to lead his people, a people who unfortunately hated him. He grabbed George's soft and subtle hand, turned to the cameramen for a few opportune shots. He then ever so casually leaned over to George to say, "Let's go somewhere private, where we can talk. " It threw chills up George's spine. George found his accent intriguing and was thrown off. He had never had feelings like that for a man before. He was sure this would be a meeting of true substance.
An Appendix to Parts one and two:
All of the facts in here can be referenced to the Book The Truth Still Hurts - A study of Plausible Causes and Effects of 9-11 written by Professor Charles B. Kendelsson from the Warren County Community College.
maandag 24 september 2007
Poop brown...
My Horriscope has told me to return to my earth colours, thereforI have chosen poop brown as a temporary colour for this blog. Please enjoy!
Mijn Horriscope zei dat ik hoef "na de kleren van het aarde gaan", dus, ik heb een lekkere poep bruin gekozen. Veel plezier!
Mijn Horriscope zei dat ik hoef "na de kleren van het aarde gaan", dus, ik heb een lekkere poep bruin gekozen. Veel plezier!
zondag 23 september 2007
This fucking driving license is driving me crazy
One thing that I learned from the University of Missouri is that trick questions are written by douchebags that normally have compensation problems. I have found two organizations that are truly made for each other, the University of Missouri and the Centraal Bureau Rijwaardigheidsbewijzen (Dutch DMV). Both organizations think that it is encouragable to ask trick questions meant to make someone fail.
Example Given:
How many meters may the load of a trailer hang on the front of your automobile?
answer: 0 meters.
Now this is a douchebag question for the following reason: You study and learn that it is forbidden to do this, but you also have to study a possible other 1000 questions, most of which are about numbers (and are not in multiple choice form). Thus you get confused and put 3 down as the answer (because that is the amount that you may have hanging in front of your car), and the answer is wrong.
Essentially, you are not a weirdo who drives a Geo Metro and needs to lug around 20 feet long ladders, so this will never ever apply to you.
What is more sad, is that Dutch people do not even learn the rules of the road, about road rage etc. They just learn the questions, and soon after the test, forget what they learned.
Now I love Dutch people, but their driving is one notch below pure obscenity. I came to this realization over the summer when I was in Belgium. In Belgium, when you see that a lane is closed, everyone gets in to the right lane and waits their turn through. You never stop, but you do have to drive slowly for about 10 minutes. This is not the case in Holland. In Holland, people will drive into the left lane and try to pass the people who are waiting in the lane that is open. They will pass and try to nose dive into the open lane at the latest moment. This means that you are stopped for at least 30 minutes, because everyone is driving like an antisocial. This in itself makes owning a Dutch license to me less desirable, but I do not have a choice.
Example Given:
How many meters may the load of a trailer hang on the front of your automobile?
answer: 0 meters.
Now this is a douchebag question for the following reason: You study and learn that it is forbidden to do this, but you also have to study a possible other 1000 questions, most of which are about numbers (and are not in multiple choice form). Thus you get confused and put 3 down as the answer (because that is the amount that you may have hanging in front of your car), and the answer is wrong.
Essentially, you are not a weirdo who drives a Geo Metro and needs to lug around 20 feet long ladders, so this will never ever apply to you.
What is more sad, is that Dutch people do not even learn the rules of the road, about road rage etc. They just learn the questions, and soon after the test, forget what they learned.
Now I love Dutch people, but their driving is one notch below pure obscenity. I came to this realization over the summer when I was in Belgium. In Belgium, when you see that a lane is closed, everyone gets in to the right lane and waits their turn through. You never stop, but you do have to drive slowly for about 10 minutes. This is not the case in Holland. In Holland, people will drive into the left lane and try to pass the people who are waiting in the lane that is open. They will pass and try to nose dive into the open lane at the latest moment. This means that you are stopped for at least 30 minutes, because everyone is driving like an antisocial. This in itself makes owning a Dutch license to me less desirable, but I do not have a choice.
making this a serious blog
I have been thinking, and after looking at other people's blogs, I have decided to make this a serious blog. I am going to post on serious topics and make people need my blog as a source of information. Information on my important life that is.
I will talk about all the latest gossip; put my two sense in. If i need to, I will start referencing Britney Spears and Federline... yes that is it, I will make this blog into an Anti-Bush Blog, then I will get all sorts of readers.
Maybe I can make this into a conspiracy site blog. I will start making statements about things like 9-11 that are completely out of the realm of logic, and I too will get millions of viewers!!!
Ah the future will be prosperous!
I will talk about all the latest gossip; put my two sense in. If i need to, I will start referencing Britney Spears and Federline... yes that is it, I will make this blog into an Anti-Bush Blog, then I will get all sorts of readers.
Maybe I can make this into a conspiracy site blog. I will start making statements about things like 9-11 that are completely out of the realm of logic, and I too will get millions of viewers!!!
Ah the future will be prosperous!
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