Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Multiplication Of Miltonian Melodies
I am feeling quite irritable at the moment. Really. I cringingly went through two lessons yesterday with a sense of utter boredom and immense irritability. I even found my fringe extremely annoying. I felt like cutting it off with a pair of garden scissors and burning it in a big bonfire, which just so happens to be in the middle of the Science building.
I had no lessons in the afternoon, so I went to town with Clive, essentially doing nothing useful, wandering around like there's nothing else to do but wander around town. I treated myself to a mug of hazelnut hot chocolate from Starbucks, which didn't taste as good as I remembered. Oh well.
Actually I was gonna do some work for Paradise Lost for English over my double PR, but I forgot the most essential thing, the actual book itself. So that plan has gone to pieces. Now I'm just Multiplying and G-Mailing. If such terms do exist. I mean, if Facebooking is an actual word, then I would imagine it would involve slapping someone's face with a book, but hey, apparently it's staring into a computer screen for six hours ignoring friend requests from people you don't know from the U.A.E. and blocking invitations to applications asking if you want to know if you share your personality with Britney Spears. Even Multiplying means something else. In the past it would mean reproducing mini Jays that run around wreaking havoc and destruction plotting world domination, but now it means posting up seven hundred photos on one album so that it will take that one person on a dial-up modem three days to fully load the whole page.
Ah, the wonderful threat that modernisation brings to the world. Cyberspace. Even that term has gone out of date, out of the list for 'hip' terms. I mean, the only people who would actually use the term cyberspace are people who thinks to justify in Microsoft Word means you have to argue the point you just made in your Word document. Word.
I think Microsoft Word sounds like it was developed by a bunch of programmers doubling as ghetto gangsta's who carry guns around, with a massive amount of bling around their necks and on their fingers. Word.
I still have the image of mini Jays running around. I'm sorry. It's a bit freaky now it's come up.
I bet I would have a favourite mini Jay who would come complaining that the other mini Jays have been bullying him because he's the smartest one.
Which brings me to my next point. For my 21st birthday, I want a Mini. Whichever Mini it is. The Mini Cooper S maybe? That's what I want. Better save up. I'm not even being subtle here. I'm throwing it out in the open. I want it wrapped in a wrapping paper with little Mini prints. And the birthday card would have the keys inside it. Don't forget. It's only, what, 8 months away.
I need a girlfriend. Oh wait.. Never mind. Forget I said that, Pill.
Hahaha. Joking, Pill.
Signing out
Over and out
written by
Jay
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