Hoares, Boyfriends and Rainbow Wormies ^_^

The other day I looked through my old school photos and certificates and stuff and remembered that my first grade and second grade teachers were like this family joke with me because my first grade teacher was Mrs. Hoare (as in pronounced whore) and my second grade teacher was Mrs. Gamble.
I swear.
My friends were like: "hahahahaha so THAT'S what happened to you!"
(But that's also what they said when I told them my mom told me that once she dropped me when I was a baby and I hit my head like hard AND I bounced and she started crying because she thought I was dead but then later the doctors confirmed I was just knocked out for a while.)

Anyway, it got me thinking of the good ol' days when my primary worries were how was I going to manage to peek into the boys' bathroom without anyone noticing instead of when will I be expelled at my current high school, for what :P It makes me think of the days when my fictional crush was on Bugs Bunny and not Wolverine. (Yes, I'm serious)


I remember well during my long-ago toy-playing days, that I was always the bad influence among my friends.
The poor kids didn't even know what sex was, while I literally performed the whole kama sutra for them with the dolls.
Most of the time, though, I hanged with the boys where my love for toy cars and LEGOS *dramatic background music* took over. The boys absolutely fascinated me, whereas the girls thought I was weird. Although that is pretty understandable, considering my sexually assaulting all the barbies.
In kindergarten there was also this invisible, but golden rule - the girls liked pink and the boys liked blue. If anyone asked what your favorite color was, you'd have to reply according to the structure, and mean it.
Only two people dared beat the system. I secretly liked blue. And dalmation, but that's more of a pattern than a color. It counted for me, though.
The other person was my sort-of best friend, who screamed loudly and bluntly that she liked purple. *Shock. Horror.*
My kindergarten companion... she was seriously awesome. She had very bright red hair, freckles, very white skin, very blue eyes, very uneven teeth and she had a slight mental condition... It wasn't bad, the worst she'd do was scream some random stuff, wet herself a lot and eat snails out of the garden. I suggested that she suck them out of the shells instead of chewing them, though, when a piece got stuck in her throat one day and she almost killed herself.
Trust me to befriend the insane.


I also remember I had a rivalry with my back-then ultimate enemy, the bratty, blond Monique. We hated everything about one another, but shared one ambition... to star as The Pink Princess in the pre-primary school play... that was like the ultimate. The teacher said that whoever was the goodest, could get the role. It was war. I was succeeding, and Monique performed her evil scheme to stop me: she threw some toys in the bin and said it was me! *gasp! horror!*
She was the pink princess, alright... but I got my revenge.
I pushed her too high on the swing one day until she freaked, jumped off while still in the air, smashed her face and wet herself. I didn't mean for that bit to happen though, I was just hoping to scare her with the height, or maybe I was taking my frustrations out on the swing, can't remember. Oh well. ;)
And you know the cherry on top? To my utter smugness, in the following year's play, I was the Arabian Princess. I've still got that photo somewhere, my six-year-old nipple peeking out of the too-big bellydance outfit top.


Another great childhood memory, was my first love, Ulrich. So no, I wasn't THAT uncool in kindergarten, besides my awesomely disturbed best friend, I had a boyfriend - funnily enough the one ALL the little girls wanted. :P
We actually dated for quite a while, three years if my bad math is correct. (Ugh can you believe the longest, most stable relationship I've ever had was the one I had at the age of six?)
I dumped him in second grade though for this really cute blond boy who was, unfortunately, absolutely terrified of me :P
Anyway, little Ulrich and I always played fairy king and fairy queen on the jungle gyms, held hands when nobody was looking and shared our first awkward kiss under the table in Wimpy, between the high heels of his mom and the hairy legs of his dad.
Oh, and I can proudly say that my first ever gift from a guy was a wooden gun with some random crayon markings on it. How romantic. That's my Ulrich.

As for my fashion sense, it was always as famous as it is now :P
My version of normal is most people's version of halloween... The only difference is I don't wear my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle suit anymore. It had a stuffed shell and everything.


I could read before I went to school, but I could only write short words and rude words. Poo was the favorite.
So moving on to primary school, I remember running up to the classroom excitedly, ignoring all the kids, ignoring my mom, and practically jumping up the teacher, asking Mrs. Hoare whether I would learn to read and write that year.
Despite my evil streak, I was immediately and always the favorite :P

I remember at some stage there was this thing where we bred and sold silk worms for pocket money, and I was big in business. I had nice, big, fat huge ones right through to the tiny cute ones. I was rolling in the cash, overcharging all my customers drastically. Back in the day I was actually, surprisingly, the best at maths.
Anyway, then my friend Chris came along and priced his worms 1c each. You just can't get a lower price than that. Nobody bought my worms any more. I was furious.
So you know what I did? I concocted the most genius, brilliant, evil scheme of all time! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! *evil background music*
Sorry, got a little ahead of myself there.
Anyway, I proceeded to color my worms in with different colored highlighters, which made them not "just white" or "just white with black stripes". I had fucking rainbow wormies.
All the kids wanted them, not stopping to question how I got them that way or why they died within the next three days. The dying just made it better - I sold more that way :P

God, little kids are dumb.

Joke Of The Day

I just thought up a brilliant new joke today!

What do aliens eat?

...

...

...

Space Cakes!!!

Hahahahahahahahaha!!!

XD ...I crack myself up :P

P.S. That thing over my head is actually a steel lamp shade, but I thought it made a great alien helmet thingy ^_^ The whole green effect also sort of illuminates the alienness nicely :P

Evilbunny vs Hitler

Hitler.

If you don't recognize that name, you've paid even less attention in History than I even did.



Now, Hitler was a figure both loved and loathed beyond all recognition. People either looked up to him or feared and hated him terribly.

And I'm definately not saying that I agree with his whole mission of Jew-murdering, but there's something about Hitler that strikes me as insanely awesome.



Hitler was a school dropout turned evil ruler.



Now THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is ultimately cool. It sounds like something I would do - minus the extreme violence. But if I had to have a celebrity hero, it'd have to be him.

Cut out all the bad stuff and lay the good cards on the table:

-Apparently he was pretty much of insane. I like insanity.

-He painted dogs. Apparently. I wouldn't know, but hey, if it's true, way to go for the randomness. I paint my dog too, occaisionally.

-Okay, ignore the fact that the victims were Jews and good people standing up for the Jews - Hitler fucking destroyed each and every person who dared cross his path. I would take up some subtler, less violent methods, but hell yes would I like to mysteriously "get rid" of certain people as an evil ruler :P

-Hitler NEVER followed the rules - he made up his own as he went along. And didn't the Dalai Lama himself say: "Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly"?

Of course, in Hitler's case, The Lama obviously wouldn't mean that, but once again, if you look at it from a clean table, I also pretty much prefer making my own rules than following the ready-set ones. I hate feeling that somebody else has any form of control over me. I get into a lot of trouble for that, though - but I'm used to it. I have a habit of managing to wriggle myself very deeply into the most intricate, difficult and insane situations, and somehow, just when all seems doomed, *dramatic background music* I miraculously manage to wriggle myself out again.

Of course, making up your own rules never goes without the already-set rules counteracting against it, as I have unfortunately learned time and again, and as Hitler has finally, fortunately learned.

But, even at Hitler's fall, he has managed to strike his final blow - a weak one, but he escaped conviction nevertheless, and maybe replacing it with death was a worse decision, but Hitler alone knows where he stands now.

But you've gotta respect the fact that no matter fucking what, he NEVER gave in - took his own life before the authorities could get anything out of him.
And the best is, they did what they could - but it was already too late...

The damage was done.

Hitler has made his mark, and left the ugly stain, never to be washed out completely...

Longue

Today, while marauding about my usual internet activities, I've made one very significant typo by writing longue instead of tongue. (No, I'm not gonna tell you what the sentence was) :P

What makes is so significant, though, is the fact that it sounds like lung, but is spelt like tongue, which makes it a longue - which all you kiddies very well know.

The cool thing is, when you actually think about it, what if longues existed?

What if your tongue could breathe? You wouldn't need to use actual air to cool down your food before you eat it, you just hover it over your tongue for a while.

If your tongue could breathe, you could make your piercing move of its own accord.

You could freak out the person you make out with by causing mini hurricanes in their mouths. (Then again, that would make you the object of desire for some fetish freaks.)

Or, even cooler, what if your lungs could lick? You could lick your body parts from the inside! If you had some sort of weird-ass medical condition involving internal bleeding, your lung could lick the wounds better or something.

...You could make your lung go way down and take masturbation to a whole new level.

So what is a longue? Is it a breathing tongue or a licking lung?

You decide ;)

x

Popcorn Time

You get all kinds of movies - funny, romantic, corny, kinky, scary, wannabe-scary, action, blah...

But sometimes it's not the movie that makes it worth watching, but people's reactions to it.

Take, for example, my mother.
She's the most entertaining movie-goer of all time.

Watch a comedy that's not even funny, but her cracking up hysterically leaves you crying and shaking with laughter alongside her for the whole period of the movie.
Observe her during a horror movie, though, and completely revel in the hilarity - she will cover her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers, sit in a crouched position with her legs up, clutching her body, rocking back and fourth. She even gasps and jumps up at all the right moments, sometimes even falling off the couch.

According to my friends, I have inherited my mother's talent for being a spectacle during movies, only instead of enhancing the experience, I tend to spoil it :P
*romantic movie: I shake in my seat while I sob wetly, crying with renewed energy every time something of note happens. My best friend finds this hilarious.
*horror movie or terrible moment: Due to my dark sense of humor, I always laugh at the most inoppertune moments. A great example is when I watched The Pianist with some classmates upon studing the Hitler-Nazi-war-thingy in History. Anyway, a scene comes up when all these Nazi soldiers intrude upon a Jewish home, and bark at the little family to get up. Fearfully, all of them get to their feet except for one old man. He can't stand - he's in a wheelchair. So the soldier promptly pushes him out to the balcony and tips the wheelchair over. Yes, I know it's supposed to be all shocking, but I couldn't help but burst out laughing at the falling wheelchair guy! It looked so funny!
*action or serious movie: Taking Pelham 123 is a great example of this. Personally, I found the movie excruciatingly boring, so I took to making sarcastic comments at everything that happens, enjoying myself immensely. Sometimes I even added little theme tunes to people when they walk, which I must admit is hilarious :P My friend Alyss, though, not to mention the movie theatre, was totally engrossed in the movie and oohed and aahed and gasped in all the right places, glaring at me whenever I said something obscene or added background sound effects like saying "boom" "pow" "doosh" every time someone hits somebody else. Anyway, there's this one part in the movie, this utter shocking climax, where John Travolta loses his temper and manically starts shouting at everyone in his train, waving his gun around and apparently dishing out his finest fury-act. And then *building suspense* he screams and shoots the one guy *pew! pew! pew! SPLAT!* The audience is silent, shocked. I cheerfully exclaim: "Someone had bad sex last night!"

My all-time favorite types of movie, though, are the completely corny ones - Indian films and Asian films!

Have you ever noticed how Bollywood movies ALWAYS include at least one love scene where the hero and heroine run dramatically towards each other across a flower field?
His shirt would be open, exposing his chest. The wind would blow his hair back. He would have that manly expression of manliness on his face. He would be standing on a mountaintop, and he would sing jarra jarra samoosa or something in a surprizingly unmanly voice in contrast to his appearance.
Her sari would be fluttering in the wind, managing to match traditional Indian wear yet showing a hell lot of skin for the sweet character she's playing. Her dark hair blows over her face, she flutters her eyelids and suddenly five hundred look-alikes pops up behind her and sings along to the chorus.
And you wonder, how do the two ironically, incidentally, somehow casually end up in the same flower field, and how can there be so many people popping up out of nowhere in the middle of nowhere? I don't care. I love it. It never grows old.

And then there's the asian films. Have you noticed that in almost every single kung fu movie, the line "yu kill fatha, i kill yu" is involved? Or even, funnily enough, "I am yu fatha" ...can someone say Star Wars?
I love the way the lines disagree with the vocal movements of their mouths, and the way they make sounds during swordfighting which mysteriously sounds more natural in bed.
The best, though, is the fact that they can fly stiff-legged in mid-air for five full minutes of the movie before they land the actual kick. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is absolutely fantastic.

The Legend of Angus & The Croc

Today I've come to develop an even deeper, darker hatred for crocs than I've ever had before...

It all started when, as I was innocently taking my wonderful yet slightly insane mutt for a walk, he excitedly lurched forward towards an old lady and attacked her ugly shoe, as usual thinking it's all one huge amusing game as she freaked out and started viciously lurching back at my dog when I grabbed the leash and yanked him back to safety.

I tried to sort of just quickly disappear, but the next thing I know she starts shouting at me, and as I whirl around, Angus lurches forward again and the evil woman actually HITS him with her basket. I almost swear, but she beats me to it, throwing a huge fannywobble over the *gasp!* *horror!* teeny little hole Angus made in her croc. God, the whole thing is FULL of holes, it's a CROC.

"Do you have ANY idea how much these are WORTH?!" (NOH! REALLY? Doesn't look like much, granny)

"They're Mary Janes!" (um, is that supposed to make them look better?)

"Where do you live, young lady?! I want a new pair!" (god, woman, the dog was doing you a favour)

My mother's a pushover, she's actually gonna pay the old bat. I'd just be like: "fuck off, you can't MAKE me pay. My dog did it, not me. Does he look like he's got any cash on him?"

Usually I'm nice to old ladies. But attacking my dog with a basket definately does not put you in my good books. Being so obsessed with shoes as ugly as crocs doesn't exactly do the job either.
All I've got to say is, I'm proud of my little Angus. He knows a bitch with bad taste when he sees one.

x

P.S. About that photo of my dog - no, there is not something wrong with him. He just sort of got himself stuck in the mosquito net and pulled his face in a funny position XD

Introduction of Evil Bunny***

Evil Bunny is actually the name of my personal cartoon character. I've got sketches and episodes of him in my math book (what else better to do in it?) - I'll take a few photos and introduce him. Mainly he just kills stuff with his chainsaw and looks cool. Anyway, all of that is sort of beside the point.
I have zilch followers so far but hey, I enjoy this blog thing, and I need to properly introduce myself for those future fans who will be wearing t-shirts with my face on. Or underwear, for the manic stalker fans. :P

And with that in mind, here goes The List #1: (dramatic background music)

Likes:
*Boobs. Life would be horrible without them.
*Angus (The most adorable mutt on this planet. Of his various nicknames, Marilyn Manson is included because of his crazy electric blue left eye.)
*All forms of the arts - art, drama, music, literature
*Rollercoasters and bumper cars (it's like alcahol - at first it's fun and then you puke)
*Fine Specimens of Male Gender
*If I say "spending time with my friends" it'd be so typically corny. So I'll narrow it down to ass-raping with stolen traffic cones, singing cartoon theme tunes late into the night (or morning, depending on which way you see it), video taping various hilarious incedents which I'm not even supposed to mention, seeing who can stretch their toes apart the furthest (I came second place), and, well, maybe I'm narrowing it down a little too much.
*Star Wars, Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter. Geekiness is a talent.
*Zombies
*Chainsaws
*Llamas
*All forms of insanity.

Dislikes:
*Crocs
*Peanut butter
*Marimbas (long story)
*Power Failures
*Taylor Swift
*Smudged eyeliner
*Getting caught reading/sketching instead of working
*Mathematics. I'm too lazy to stop sucking at it.
*Exercize! I'm unfit and I prefer it that way. I suck at any physical activity (okay, well, not ANY physical activity) :P
*My toes. Oh, they look alright, but they're always in the way. My worst injuries always involves really painful incidents of one splotchy, bloody toe or another. Maybe I'm just too clumsy.
*Oats. It all involves a really painful memory of a boy puking in my face, hair and mouth back in kindergarten. Yes, I swallowed it. He had oats. I puked too. Beautiful domino effect.
(Any guys still wanna make out with me?) :P :P

May the force be with you***
x

Grr-carrot. Noun.

Grr-carrot.

The opening word of my first blog post was chosen totally at random and serves no particular purpose other than to get your attention.

Now that we're on the subject, though, a grr-carrot would be quite an interesting vegetable. Does it growl when you try to bite it? That's sort of a predictable assumption though. Maybe it's just a sexy carrot. Maybe you can use it as a tool of pleasure - therefore the grr sound effects.

*Sigh*

The world is full of mysteries. We shall never really know.

P.S.
Sort of ironic how the first thing that pops up in my mind is carrots when my username is evilbunny. I don't even really like carrots. That much.