Archive for Humour

A joke for the witty

On a scale of 1 to 10, how close is 7 to 10?

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Guesses welcome. Answer will be provided next week.

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I fought a bear

I realised I should update this space more often, before everyone forgets about me and stops checking this altogether. It’s not that nothing interesting has happened, it’s rather that too many interesting things have happened. Here is a sample:

  • I had yum-cha on a dirty table
  • I couldn’t find where the books were in a library
  • I got into netball by dancing
  • I ate ham and cheese croissants
  • I bought burger erasers
  • I have allies in Uno
  • I have learnt Uno is all about alliances
  • I realised that Uno without morals is like water without hydrogen
  • I’m still bloated from Wednesday
  • I smell nice
  • I got a hair cut
  • I feel like a boy from the back
  • I may have made a new friend
  • I nearly finished a crossword
  • I’m not in my room
  • I broke my nose
  • I have to make a formal complaint against Kinder (or german children in general)
  • I need to go shopping for kinder surprises
  • I’m in a band called College Room Bondage - we’ve released four albums
  • I actually had the beef for dinner
  • I rewrote history
  • I haven’t had a Golden Gaytime for 173 hours
  • I rolled up the Sun
  • I’m wearing boy pants
  • I’m waiting in anticipation for something that is happening in six days
  • I have a vicious streak
  • I have white teeth under yellow light
  • I have a smaller room than everyone else
  • I adore Gregor
  • I give joy in a tupperwear container
  • I can’t spell words
  • I fixed my nose, and made it Grecan
  • I have a green ring, it’s not black
  • I found a nice hot water bottle that likes science and dancing
  • I got hit by a door, a bookshelf and Erin
  • I got money from the government for being a good citizen
  • I’m using that money to buy a blythe doll
  • I stole things from the National Art Gallery
  • I researched the wrong alternate universe
  • I’m really cool
  • I had a nice time in Sydney
  • I had a better time in Glasgow
  • I set fire to butter
  • I have posters that hate me
  • I couldn’t find the maths room, so I went home
  • I cleaned my room for four hours
  • I can’t dance
  • I got crushed by an asian girl with pink glasses and boy hair
  • I had no art history this week, which made me sad
  • I got a message I need to send
  • I never got to Oregon
  • I have 6 new voicemail messages, which I still can’t access
  • I had the breakfast of scholars
  • I forgot to commit a crime
  • I won a competition
  • I started drinking a coffee
  • I became a cheat
  • I helped a man cross the road
  • I found the Ring of Gyges
  • I married Dionysos, and he turned me into a dolphin
  • I can’t ride a bike
  • I keep hanging on
  • I forgot to stalk the Tropfest film director
  • I forgot to stalk Adrian Deutsch’s family
  • I fought a bear, and won

And this is only a sample.

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a sign of things to come…

So basically it’s been bugging me. The whole website without any posts except the “Hello World” one (a default one, nonetheless, with a default comment). I’ve thought about it long and hard for a while now, and don’t know exactly how to “begin”, if that’s the right word for it. Nothing which has come into mind seems substantial enough to start, and as a sign, here is a list (in no particular order) of things I started, but haven’t completed:

  • a rant about lackluster discos
  • an interpretation of Forward Russia lyrics
  • a list of people I’ve recently stalked
  • a ponder about Daniel Clowes, David Boring, and their connection to a clothing chain in Hong Kong
  • a hate rant about Damien Hirst

… and so the list goes on.

I blame this indecision on the new year. It always seems to suggest change, alteration, a clean slate, beginnings and of course, hesitation!

If this is truly a sign of things to come, then, future readers, maybe it’ll be a sign which leads nowhere. Speaking of signs…

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The above are all from the hilarious Lonely Planet’s book called “Signspotting”, which is the best I can do for now.

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