Saturday, October 31, 2009

IB’s Impending doom & boganity

So in a matter of days I will commence the tests that determine my life's worth. Yay for IB. I'm not really stressed out, but that doesn't mean I'm prepared. The past week has involved some half-arsed studying and mostly waking up in the late afternoon. It's quite funny that now as I am coming towards the end of my days in mandatory education ("woot woot", "fuck yeah", etc.) that a lot of my primary school acquaintances (just knowing someone doesn't necessarily facilitate a "friendship") have decided to connect with me online, and I realize that--offence implied, that I went to a predominately bogan school. That sounds rude but yeah whatever because OMG I'm so elitist but seriously after perusing some of their online profiles I have surmised the following.

  1. Ipswich is a hole—and from this that Ipswich is NOT the most livable city in QLD (It's some statistic they put in newspaper articles).
  2. Education, although important, is often neglected.

So one of the guys from my primary school posted a facebook status that asked "Who is more happier? the rich man who has everything or the homeless man who has very little?" and comments that were along the lines of "the rich guy" were responded to with "yeah but the poor guy is happy, man". My first thoughts were, "uhh he's kidding *lols*" but then I quickly realized that he was not being sarcastic (I don't think he knows what sarcasm is), and then I realized that he probably doesn't know what poverty is. Maybe I was reading too literally into what he had written (a trait that I have tried to develop after many misleading questions on Chinese papers like "did he like the food?" correct answer: "no, but it was described to be delicious and exquisite") and felt he did not adequately provide a basis for his argument. Then I realized poor people are always happy, just like in musicals. Orphans, I hear, are among the happiest people in the world, right after corpses, and children caught up in Nazi regimes escaping to the alps (I like Sound of Music, okay which was actually rather happy but I digress).

I didn't comment because I'm too much of a smug asshole to be an actual asshole and say something and because I don't really know why this annoys me. It's not like I taught him English or anything. Maybe I'm so empathetic towards his failed English/lower order reasoning (I don't think it can be considered ''higher order'') teacher that I am embarrassed for them.

Since I am almost finished with high school I'm supposed to have my career trajectory mapped out, except that I'm unmotivated to do much searching, and that I don't think I can get paid for eating bread and reading blogs (In a perfect world … *sigh*). Such is the extent of my laziness that I've taken to doing things in the dark (uh, not like that). On another note I should probably stop doing this because a) I hate three teaspoons of coffee in my coffees b) I miss my draws/baskets when I am putting my clothes away and c) because hot water is *quoting Johnny's TOK presentation* "in fact, HOT".

Thursday, October 15, 2009


I was running a little late this morning because I had misplaced my school pants (yeah I know wtf, right?) anyway so in my flurried state I took off my sliding wardrobe doors to make it easier to search through the mass of clothes it conceals on the ground. Now right after reading this you, the reader, are probably thinking WTF he probably lives in a sty and in response to this I say, "umm ... yes". I don't think I will ever be able to own my house without it becoming overrun with just useless junk, and clothes on the floor. So my brother came in my room before and was like, "what happened to your door?" to which I replied "I COULDN'T FIND MY PANTS GET OFF MY BACK".

haha I'm retarded.