And suddenly, it roars back into life! Loljk, FG's still dead. Pass the eye of newt and the defibrillators and we'll fix that, though

LEAH: You should look at adoption ads. I see them all the time in the PennySaver.
JUNO: They have ads for parents?
LEAH: Yeah! "Desperately Seeking Spawn." Right next to, like, terriers and iguanas and used fitness equipment and stuff.

Hehe, Juno. -adds to list of Movies Chronos Must Be Made To Watch By Force If Necessary- It ain't an awful long list, though, since I'm usually the one with the pushy well-cultured friends who find my utter lack of an education in good taste somewhat downright appalling and a little exceedingly unladylike. Well boo hoo to you too. Scout Finch wasn't no lady neither and she's a gawdam goldarn goshdang [Ed. If you must swear, at least swear properly] literary icon for it. -wrinkles nose-

That aside, how are things going? It's been a while since we've posted--nearly a week, actually--well, six days since I last wrote and e-l-e-v-e-n days since that other random girl who runs this ship dragged her exam-ridden arse to a keyboard and feathered off a funny little suicide note about term assessments. One that I have neglected to update in regards to Biology Also, ~*~*~Edward Cullen~*~*~.

Fk you Chronos. Fk youuu. Mostly for the eyeslappingly flamboyant glitterification, but also because you hotlinked the original image and rehosting the thing on Tinypic requires that a copy of the picture in question be uploaded from a computer to the website itself. So I actually had to have Mr ~*~*~Edward Cullen~*~*~, Sparkleface Twithead Extraordinaire, on my hard drive. -sob sob sob- NO AMOUNT OF ANTIVIRUS WILL GET RID OF THE SHAME. NONE. SO THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR THAT.
AND NOW I WILL GO CRY IN THE CORNER ALL BY MYSELF, IF YOU DON'T MIND.

Mad: -head whips around-
Mad: -SHING-

...or maybe I'll just shelve the pain and continue with updating the blog.

Mad: -head retracts, disappointed-

Well, while I'm sure that some of the fine readers of this equally fine periodical exploded from the perceived testosterone in that picture, it seems far more likely that a substantially greater percentage of the audience quite frankly imploded from the total and utter lack of any such chemical compounds present in the person of ~*~*~Edward Cullen~*~*~. Think of it as a testosterone vacuum--not the hoovering things but the voids. Actually, think of space. Lack of testosterone. Lack of air. Lack of anything. ~*~*~Edward Cullen~*~*~ (and yes this is getting tiring) is outer space: cold, dead, and something that should be stayed away from until further notice. (Take that, Twihards!)

... huh, I've spent the better part of half an hour on my back with the laptop tucked up on my abdomen typing and then deleting snark against an imaginary vampire. (Yeah, I binned one paragraph about the ethics of the situation since I figured that me... talking about ethics... um... not quite appropriate, shall we say.) The pillow ends an inch below my shoulder blades and my neck is pressed hard up against the headboard of the bed and it will hurt like hell quite soon (I predict) and the warm heat of the motherboard whistling along belies the staggering doses of radiation which are apparently boring straight into my innards and frying all the little cells into a state of perfect non-vitality. So yes, I am destroying my ovaries and setting the scene for the biggest goddamn neck crick in the past half-century because I just love you that much. Enjoy it. Bask in the adoration. Feel the warm glow of appreciation bathing every inch of you from head to toe and back again. Happy? Yes? Good. Now get me an ice cream and take out ~*~*~Edward Cullen~*~*~ with a sub-machinegun or I sic seventeen penguins on you and Lord knows that won't be pretty for anyone involved.

~Mnem

"Americans now must choose between a virtual strip search and a grope" says the ACLU

Well, it's between that and potential death, of course, but since people can only focus on the short-term versus long-term effects (think of teenagers who feel invincible when they pick up their first cigarette), the vague and hazy notion of being blown up in the skies trumps an uncomfortable patting session hands down. Idiots, the lot of them.

Quoth an unnamed security officer who has to perform these searches:

I come to work to do my job. It is not up to me to decide policy, it is up to me to carry out my duties as dictated by the Transportation Security Administration. When a person stands in front of me and calls me a pervert or accuses me of molesting them it is disheartening. People fail to understand that neither of us are happy about the intrusive pat down I am carrying out. I am polite, I am professional and while someone may not like what I have to carry out, they came to me because they choose not to utilize the alternative and less invasive method of security at my airport.

The "less invasive method" being full-body scanners which, predictably, have been publicly shunned due to paranoia over radiation and having your body bits splashed over a screen in glorious nonpixellated high def. Yep, still idiots. The first fear I can understand, or try to, but the second? Get over it! What do you think, that the supervising staff are somehow enjoying your ordeal? News flash, moron. One, you're probably not all that awesome to look at, and two, they're just doing their jobs. In case you haven't noticed here are hundreds of people passing through US airport scanners daily and if the officers found this task attractive in any way then they sure as hell don't now. I believe "desensitization" is the word. Except there's one thing they probably can't get desensitized to and that is the endless stream of whines and muttering and outright accusations (see quote above) that they are, in fact, "perverts" and molesters when they are only trying to do their job. Shame on you coddled self-righteous airline passengers. Get off your bloody high horse and be a little grateful and humble and flexible for once. If these people up and decided to leave you'd not be going anywhere and if you did there's a high chance you wouldn't make it because gee, guess what, no security checks means moar security threats for all. But of course, you'd just complain about that too...

Idiots. -shakes head-

The tl;dr here is that yon "virtual strip search" and "grope" are temporary discomforts compared to the slightly more permanent state of nonexistence brought upon ye in the event of having your plane knocked out of the sky, so shut up and deal with it. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, people, rein in the holier-than-thouness of your ego.

~Mnem

Happy Thanksgiving! (unless you're a turkey)

I was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner at Atlas' today. My first one, y'know? I've never celebrated a real honest-to-goodness say-grace carve-the-turkey count-the-children-afterwards American (well, mostly American)-style Thanksgiving dinner. I came this close to showing up. This close. And then I spent the better part of the afternoon in an infernal mood about not being allowed to attend, due to a parental embargo on anything involving Atlas, and said infernal mood lasted until I saw this.

I didn't quite know whether to laugh or cry--everyone in that convo except for Orange is a guy, by the way--so I settled for screenshotting it and trying very hard not to think about tablecloths for the next two and a half hours.

~Mnem

Correct spelling and grammar pwns is better than cheese

But only slightly more so.

The gist of it is, I found this as somebody's userpic in a forum on GOS, and I honestly really like it right now. It's got pretty colours and crisp text and a long snark stick with which to poke random passers-by in the faux-pas-ridden street. First reaction: HOMG SOMEONE THINKS LIKE THAT TOO!!!1!!1!!!one! Second reaction: Haha, nice. Shot myself in the foot there.

-shoots rambling- Here be yon GIF.

Hohohoyes.

~Mnemosyne

Laik whut?

So I'm on our Stats page, idly browsing through the referral links (because I'm just morbid like that), when I come across this.

Out of curiosity, I clicked on the URL. Took me to some renovating site written up completely in Russian. (Yeah, Mnem, as if the .ru kept it a massive secret.) Off to the ever-reliable **coughNOTcough** Google Translate, which very kindly ran the webpage through with the fine-edged blade **coughHAHAcough** of computerized translation for me. It didn't make much more sense in English. Couldn't find a single referring link either. Someone out there is pulling strings, but the .ru is making me nervous, because Chronos once had this period of about two months when she would randomly spam a link to somebar.ru in her MSN conversations with me. That URL led to a website which made a neat business out of glomming worms (the invasive, cybertronic, borderline illegal ones) to the computers of hapless visitors. Bottom line is, don't trust a website what looks like it has nothing whatsoever to do there. The Internet is a scary place.

So, lesson here is:

-yawns-

The lesson is: ...

-rubs eyes-

The lesson to be learnt is--

-slumps over-

~Mnem- "zzz" -osyne

LOOK! LOOK OVER HERE!

... what? Why are you looking in this direction?

There's nothing to see here. Shoo, shoo shoo.

Fwahahaha, with this, we only have 5 posts left to write--

YOU

SAW

NOTHING.

THIS

IS

ABSOLUTELY

NOT,

IN

ESSENCE,

A

STALL

POST.

STALL POST?! WHERE?!

-Chronos

Happy 5th Month Anniversary, Ferret Gun!

./wanders in

So sorry I haven't been around.

Says it all, really.

But as compensation for leaving this blog to dry like a hanging sardine, here is a treat.

Hopefully it'll amuse you for a few days.

WE ARE STILL ON EMOTICON STRIKE. 
We also have some fried smileyface. Would you like to try some?  

-Chronos

"I have been busy", says Chronos. "BULLSHIT!", yells Mnem.

Since I have nothing better to do, I might as well.

No, I haven't been avoiding you. 's just that writer's blocks keep slamming down in front of me--

CRASH

...well, this time it landed on me. No worries, Mad will come back with a spatula soon enough.

-Chronos "I REALLY can't think of anything. Lol @ 131 posts for Mnem, 103 posts for Chronos."

-makes raspy growling noises-

I figure I'm going to pass out soon, so I lied again, I'm going to stop posting after this.

... and the crowd goes wild. -tired look- Go fling your shet somewhere else, you bastards, I'm not in the mood for idiocy right now.

~Mnem

...

-camera slowly approaches from behind Chronos-

Closer...

Closer..

Almost there...

-Chronos whips around-

-camera freezes-

-Chronos stares-

-camera zooms in on Chronos' bloodshot eyes-

-Chronos turns back around and slumps on the table-

...

And so, that concludes the 1 minute excerpt - The Chronos that Could Not Sleep.


-Chronos

CHRONOS' EPIC RETURN POST v. 2.0!

Releasing the next patch of Chronos' EPIC RETURN POST!

No, I'm not going to drawl like a mad man about how I gots a tablet and Hi-Chew. Firstly, I didn't get another tablet, so it's unnecessary. Second, I've almost finished snarfing down those 20 or so bars of Hi-Chew. High intakes of glucose syrup, sugar, and hydrogenated vegetable oil for the win.

Not that they're healthy because they actually kill you very, very slowly fill you with artificially induced highness. That, and they start tasting disgusting after your 3rd consecutive bar.
Whooo, censorship for the win lose. WE CAN'T TAKE THE TRUTH.

Okay. Why am I up at this atrocious hour, you ask? In Chronos' world, an atrocious hour would be... 5 in the morning with the next day being a school day (normal wake-up time being 6 am). No, it isn't a school day for me tomorrow - THANK GOD. I get to laze around for one more solitary day before being thrown into the seamy underbelly of hell school.

Yes, fine, so I'm exaggerating. Hell does equate school, in my world, but sadly, there's a minuscule population of one in Chronos' world.

Back to the earlier question. I'm on Ferret Gun and my computer at... -looks at clock- 12:46 am. I got dragged to a dinner by those-things-known-as-the-parents with about 10 or 20 other families plus their adorable sweet bearable lovely children. Of course, the only two children I knew and could socialize with -snort- were 5th graders. Nothing epic happened, really. Dinner started at 6:30. Guess what time we left? 9:45. I was stuck at a freaking dinner for 3 hours and 15 minutes. The food stopped coming at around 7 or 8, ffs (for feck's sake)! Not to mention they did that thing that parents do - start talking very excitedly about something, then grow louder and louder as they try to drown out everyone else's talking in order to contribute something to the conversation. Makes for very interesting sound dynamics, but we (the 5th graders and me) were almost scared into jumping out of our chairs at one point. That aside, when I got home at 10:15 ish, we stumbled upon a blackout in our house. A blackout that lasted until 11:30, during which I gamed excessively on my DS - thank you, whoever came up with the idea of bright screens in gaming consoles (because the people who make the GameBoy Color obviously didn't think about it or didn't have the technology to make it happen). And from 11:30, it takes me to the point I'm at now - unable to sleep and typing a post for Ferret Gun after leaving it to dry like a fish for a few days.

Mnem will be proud of me, I'm sure. She's the one always prodding me to write something.
Oooh, big paragraph overhead!

Gawd damn. I ran out of things to write about.

-Chronos "I smell the artificial flavoring from the empty Hi-Chew wrappers..."

Dear Chronos,

Get your act together or I'm throwing your goodies out the window.

Love,

~Mnem

The alphabet song (or, An exercise in inanity [or, The only clue found in the deserted warehouse where Mnem was last seen alive at approximately 10:39 PM on the night of September 1st, 2010 {or, The first post of September! Yay!}])

Further proof that I should not be allowed to stay up this late. -strums lyre-

"A is for Awesome and
B is for Banned and
C is for Careful and
D is for Drama Queen and
E is for Eli Trick and
F is for FerretGun and
G is for God Only Knows and
H is for Holy Unholy Undead and
I is for I Don't Have Internet Sometimes So Don't Get Mad At Me For Not Posting and
J is for Juno and
K is for Kaliper and
M is for Mnem Can't Spell "Caliper" Correctly and
N is for Nothing You Need To Know and
O is for Orly and
P is for Penis Envy and
S is for Schadenfreude and
Q is for Q#*ABN&xZ ( = She Screwed Up The Alphabet) and
R is for Really, I'm Okay Now and
T is for Totally and
U is for Uh-huh and
V is for Very Well Then If You Say So and
W is for What Now? and
X is for Xanatos Gambits Are Hard to Pull Off and
Y is for You Betcha and
Z is for Ziggurat."

Pulled this off another blog--my other blog, so nobody sue me. Except for Chronos, maybe, because I didn't tell her that I have another blog. :3

-thundery noises-

Uh oh.

-digs out box labelled "Chronos Eruption Prevention"- -straps :3 mask over face- -takes deep breath, files last will and testament, and turns around-

Okay, Chronos, breathe ... just breathe ... Look at the seal face! Control your rage! LOOK AT THE SEAL FACE! You wouldn't wanna hurt the seal face, would you? W-would you? -beat- Wait, w-what? You would wanna hurt the seal face? But it's a seal face! You can't hurt a seal face! Think of the seals! Think of the little fluffy baby--okay, fine, so technically it's just a seal mask over my face, but still. --What do you mean, "there is no but still"? It's the same thing, isn't it? -bobs around in an increasingly desperate manner- WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT ISN'T THE SAME? WHY DO YOU COME CLOSER WITH THAT STRANGE METALLIC CONTRAPTION? BACK OFF, CHRONOS! DON'T HURT THE WIDDLE SEAL! DON'T HURT THE WIDDLE SEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL! OH, THE HUGE MANATEE! Seal. Thing. You get my drift.

Wait, aren't I supposed to be dead now? -looks down- -small neat hole in the left section of her chest-

-Chronos grins and reholsters heart vaporizer-

Well damn.

-promptly expires-

~Mnemosyne

1. Title is not in capitals (Or, A Point-By-Point Rebuke Rebuttal Response To The Previous Post)

2. -directs to picture-
3. -crosses off "Space Ejection"- The list of ways to dispose of you is getting shorter by the hour.
4. Uncapitalize 'Aliens'.
5. The way your diagram reads, you began life as a school...
6. Capisce.
7. When there is only a nanometer between yourself and a DVD, the laws of physics begin to fold in on themselves and you will find yourself irresistibly drawn to the "open" button on the remote.
8. Staller.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
9. Spammer.
10. -guilty look-
11. YOU HAD RIBS.

~Mnem- "12. Comma between wait and what" -osyne

Chronos' Guide to Feeling Like Absolute Crap

Is this the first time anyone has posted a guide? -glances around FerretGun- Well, since I don't see any disoriented guides walking around like they're drunkards... oh wait, there-- no, never mind, that's Mnem. Stumbling around the snow-capped wastes of purgatory trying to search for an idea. I don't blame her. -shrug- Our inspirational spark kind of died when we started school, y'know? In any case, back on topic! Here, I shall give you tips on how to feel like absolute crap when you wake up!
WARNING: Do not try this unless you are certain you can wake up sane the next day.

1.Point your air conditioner straight at yourself and set it at the lowest temperature possible. This is so you can freeze your ass off. If you don't have an air conditioner, drop a couple of ice cubes down your shirt you can just use a fan set to the highest speed, be it a ceiling fan or... not?

 "And I thought that was just a figure of speech!"

Yeah, so did I man, so did I..

2. Avoid taking a shower until late at night (preferably after your parents or your roommate / friend yell at you), saying you had 'better things to do', most of which involve your laptop or any electronic device (studying is not an advisable distraction). 

 Yeah, you'd better be goddamn sorry.

3. Do whatever you can to keep yourself awake until you begin feeling sleepy. In such a case, move your laptop / electronic device to your bed and continue using it until you feel ready to pass out. Meanwhile, download something simultaneously so you can force yourself to stay up until it finishes downloading (anything over 200mb will do).

 Bah. Pick up line that went obsolete millenia ago.

4. Throughout the day (before you hibernate and hide out in your room), make sure to eat a whole bunch of shet that you know seriously screws up your throat and nose (deep fried hormone laced fast food for the win! No, I am not taking that back. Sue me.). 

 Just like eveeeeeery other person.

5. Leave your homework to the last minute or ditch it all together! Yeah, fine, you will probably feel less bored, but come the next day... well, you are totally fu- ahem, screwed. You are totally screwed. Make sure you have level headed teachers with level headed classmates who will have a slight sense to hold the teacher back when he or she lunges at you with a very sharp carving knife. :)

Gawddam, there were a lot of good pictures for this! This picture just ended up loading the fastest.

SEE?! I MADE IT A VISUAL LEARNING EXPERIENCE FOR YOU! HA. TOP THAT!

-Chronos

Oo-er, Mnem is ticked

A detached rant, written pretty much the same way I write my school assignments. Guess what I was pissed about. Go on, guess. :-/

"It is so easy to take the low road sometimes. To fob off of someone else--to put all your effort aside--to not raise a finger for what you want, what you believe in, what you think is right. Maybe it is because you were lazy. Maybe it is because you know no other way. Maybe it is something that sits badly in the back of your mind; you get away with it by assuring yourself that it was a one-time fling, that desperate people do desperate things, but you're wrong. It doesn't end there. You do one thing wrong and it becomes easier to let yourself go. We are all born procrastinators; we must work hard to be diligent. No prizes for guessing which virtue (or not) most people will confess to being closet practicers. I myself have issues with scheduling things that I do not like. Take this English homework, for example. It took me perhaps an hour to find and read 17 poems and then to pull one particularly moving poem out of the bunch--a process that, frankly, should have been the longest part of the entire assignment. And yet when it comes to the actual writing I have no idea what to say. I put it off for one day, pleading school, and then put it off another day, pleading a rest; I put it off for one more day, pretending that I did not remember, and then I see it again the day before it is due and I panic. I think, It's like last year all over again. I think, Didn't I promise to clean up my act? I make excuses; I tell myself I make mistakes, there's still time to fix it, I get the paper in on time, no harm done. While I pride myself on being able to work under pressure, it is not an enviable habit, and I should really get to doing things in a far more timely manner. Furthermore I have succeeded in doing the same thing to my French homework, which (being written in a foreign language, requiring multiple 150-word chapters, and referencing source material from last year) promises to be infinitely more procrastination-friendly than a simple English paragraph. Before long, I predict that it will turn into a vicious cycle swallowing all assignments from all classes and I will furthermore be unable to redeem myself from this existential hell. I should have seen it coming. Why didn't I?"

~Mnemosyne

Borking borker son of a bork!

Today was fun. A group of us girls were meeting at a mall--first get-together we'd had in months. And then of course Fate noticed that we were planning a good time and decided to get stuck in with us, which of course meant that hardly anything went according to plan.

Chronos had kindly offered to take me to the mall, because I am carless half the time and she lives so close by, but this gesture ended up being more a  pain in the ass for her than a demonstration of her Good Samaritanship. Specifically we were delayed by my mother's most likely illegal wholly legitimate hoedown corn shucking llama-tipping frollypalooza appointment at a bank. And by delayed I mean COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY DELAYED for two frickin' hours. I mean, seriously! Out of all the other days in summer, the Mother had to go and pick today to get her square-dancing cob-husking camelid-toppling nonexistantworderrorerrordoesnotcompute**CRASH**ing needs filled at BANK NAME REMOVED FOR LEGAL PURPOSES?! Sigh... but she did. And so we waited. Chronos spammed me with random ferret-related SMSes and engaged in other idle pursuits, such as possibly attaining an intermediate level of fluency in Quechua and redesigning the Sistine Chapel, while I sat at home and stared sulkily at the computer. (To each her own.)

At long last the Mother returned and I was permitted to leave. The journey to long-suffering Eusebia's house and the leg from there to the mall was uneventful. -beat- Well, it was eventful, but not in a SFW kind of way. -beat- Pervs. Not like that.

Anyways, we arrived safely and extremely late, and met up with the other girls in our expedition. Methe, Eirene, Neikea, and Hestia had already been at the mall for two-odd hours when Chronos, Eusebia and I showed up. Some hurried discussion and then a plan was formed. Firstly Methe cashed in on her free tickets, buying us seven seats for the 3:30 showing of Inception; then we went to a delicious but horribly overpriced little restaurant called NAME REMOVED FOR FEAR OF LAWSUITS where I paid ninety-fking-seven thousand, five-fking-hundred CURRENCY REMOVED FOR FEAR OF TRACING OUR COUNTRY OF RESIDENCE for an admittedly tasty grilled beef sausage and rosti. (Mmm... rosti.) Chronos, meanwhile, paid exactly the same amount of money for a glass of juice and a small pizza, while several members of our party ended up shelling out over 120,000 WE DON'T NEED TO REPEAT OURSELVES DO WE NOW? for around the same amount of food. Needless to say, we are never going to come back to that dive again. -shudder- It took some basic arithmetic and a lot of quick thinking to come up with a parentally acceptable explanation for the expenses, one which regrettably included a little bit of lying screwing with the truth in a way that brings to mind the old dictum of "what they don't know won't be casually brought up the next time you ask for money". (Desperate people do desperate things.)

By the time we exited the fiscal sinkhole of NAME REMOVED FOR YADDI YADDI YA it was already about half past two, so we decided to split: Methe, Eusebia, and Hestia set off to gossip and window shop (I think) while Chronos, Neikea, Eirene and I headed for the pool tables. What followed was a lively hour of... well... Neikea hitting trick shots, Eirene missing trick shots, Mnem missing things in general and Chronos blatantly abusing her "bork" privileges. And then the gawkers came back, and we went to watch Inception, and everyone wandered out lookingly vaguely disoriented, and we went home, and if you're wondering why the post is finishing on such a lacklustre tone it's because it's 1:20 in the morning and I am damn tired.

I really need to start sleeping earlier.

OH HOLY SHET IT'S SCHOOL TOMORROW.

Fk.

~Mnemosyne

HOLY SHET!

-glances about nervously- H-hey, it's the f-first of August... ha ha ha...

OMFG SCHOOL STARTS IN LESS THAN 2 WEEKS RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Yes, that dreaded time of the year has arrived. The school season - for international schools, at any rate - reopens! And while I will find some pleasure scaring the hell out of the new students with my insanity (as well as the returning students who know me and for some odd reason STILL remain friends with me - you know what I mean, Mnem), overall, school season = CON CON CON CON CON CON CON CON CON CON. Sure, I mean, seeing your friends, some of your favorite teachers, and meeting new people is a pro. 's a good thing. But this is 10th grade. Sophomore year. I.e. The-year-where-they-hack-you-into-little-pieces-in-preparation-for-IB-or-AP-and-mill-about-with-carving-knives-during-class-to-make-sure-you're-actually-working, and in the following year (AAAA IB AND AP), it's going to be I-walk-around-with-a-freaking-chainsaw-to-make-sure-you-don't-go-to-university-in-a-dumpster-though-I-wouldn't-care-if-you-did-actually. DO YOU UNDERSTAND OUR PAIN? On top of that, I have a fanfiction to update weekly in addition to my new job as a cleaner / typesetter for a scanlation group! It takes a while to digitally upgrade manga scans, you know! Especially if there's a lot of cloning / redrawing to be done!

... in other news, I'm quite sure you get the idea. No, I am not complaining. By the way, Mnem decided not to submit her novel-in-the-making story to the contest because she kind of went over the word limit and started bleeding (an arm hacked off too!) when she began chipping at it to get it under 4000 words. So, she's going to keep it and post it on WDC anyway - and hopefully, one of these days, I'll get to read it. And so--

IB Student in his Valedictorian speech at the graduation ceremony:

"Looking back on IB, I probably wouldn't have gotten into Harvard without it. I plan on studying molecular biology, and Harvard has one of the best molecular biology programs in the world, and with this first-class education I hope to one day cure cancer. So if you think about it, my participation in the IB program could save millions of lives, and I guess my sanity was a fair price to pay over these past four years for that possibility. Although I do wish I didn't have to make the choice."

-IB Quotes.com

-gulp- Yay. Near death to anticipate in the near future. But then again, I never had any sanity to begin with, so what would I degrade to...?

-Chronos "Mnem you fiend, post!"

... damn.

It's the 29th of July today. Where I am, at the very least. Where Mnem is, I have no idea. Still waiting on her to 'Hell Yeah' the CSI post yesterday night for which (You can tell) I was in a state of brain incapacitation whilst writing. But it was damn good. Definitely worth not going out to a place with gooooooood food with my mother and grandmother to stay home and watch it. GODDAMMIT I WANT MY NASI LEMAK - no, I am not showing withdrawal symptoms from the lack of freaking good cultural food from my home country, why do you ask? Hey, apparently goddammit is spelt goddammit and not goddamnit! Wow, I can feel that much dumber now. Don't bother researching if you don't know where nasi lemak is from. It makes me feel that much safer. Before you ask, Mnem's from some other where, so don't you try and figure it out now.
Has it been a while since I wrote a post based on complete improvisation? You can probably tell if you've been following this blog for a while. Then again, you also probably haven't went through every single one the posts we wrote (What kind of sane person would anyway?).
As opposed to the stupid things that Mnem believes she does, I do pull (More stupid? Stupider?) even worse demoralizing and idiotic stunts. Example? Today, I went out with my two cousins and one of my cousin's boyfriend to watch the Sorcerer's Apprentice in the mall next door (which was epic -- NICOLAS CAGE FTW.). After the movie, we decided to loiter suspiciously around the arcade so we could get thrown out not-so-suspiciously or conspicuously to finish up the rest of the tokens we had bought for use in the arcade. Know those little machines where you put in tokens to get a little toy in a bubble (Give me a name here, I forget)?
Edit: These machines are called Gashapon Machines. In English, just call them toy vending machines. Another Japanese invention? A surprise? I think not. The link for 'gashapon' is to our ever reliable Wikipedia.
Those machines use different tokens than the arcade. 1 token for those bubble machines is worth RM4 (which isn't that much but expensive for those) whilst in comparison, 1 token for the arcade machines are worth RM1 (much more sufficient and money hoarding in the end). Being the absolute genius I am (is the sarcasm getting across to you?), I decide to flip the RM4 token to see whether I should put the token in a machine for Pokemon toys or Mario toys. The first time, no incident. The second time when my cousin thought my flip sucked? Alas it flew over and above and landed on the freaking CEILING ABOVE THE BUBBLE MACHINES. CEILING -- which wasn't that high but high enough for my height complex to be realized. Me being... short -grits teeth- an insufficient height to retrieve my coin, we had to go into the arcade, talk to the nice ladies at the arcade counter to ask for a chair to borrow. Well, luckily it ended without incident thanks to my cousin's boyfriend who was, thankfully, tall enough to look for the coin on the ceiling whilst standing on the chair.
Today's lesson?
Never let Chronos flip a freaking coin again. Ever. If push comes to shove, make her do it in a place where it won't vanish into an unreachable place.

-Chronos

Fanfiction: The Power of Imagination

It took me a while, but I finally stopped walking into trees poles over-sized cheese graters thinking, starting with throwing aside all rational thought to bring you this post.
Firstly, most of you people who probably have a life and don't constantly browse the Internet might not have heard of the site named Fanfiction.net. That's right, click on it...
Damn. I really thought I got their tag line right. Fine. It's Fanfiction - Unleash your Imagination now. I can't strikeout the title so deal with it, because I'm not bothered to place my hand on the mouse, which is currently trying to bite my fingers off -- no, I do not have an overactive imagination. It would be nice if we had real mice as mice though. You know what I mean?
... probably not, since I appear to be babbling nonsensically most half of the time. Onward with the boring introduction in a sad attempt to get you to join!
Fanfiction is a neat little site, see? Fanfictions, firstly, are stories based on ideas that already exist because the authors there cannot be bothered to come up with their own ideas are fanatical followers of a certain book / comic / anime / etc. like the idea of events happening that might not have occurred in the original base's storyline. For example -- take Leverage, a TV series of pure awesomeness. Go read the link I provided for you if you don't know what it is. Of course, it goes to say that if you do not know about Leverage, you are full of pure FAIL- yes, I have a tendency to insult people unintentionally.
Have you read the article? Good. Take Nate and Sophie. You could switch their pasts in a fanfiction, if you so wish. Hell, do what you want! Explicit content included! You have the freedom to do what you wish with the storyline, the characters - go kill off a few of them, some people would like to see those kind of ideas!
Fanfiction is a world domination plot just waiting to happen, after all. You wouldn't want to miss out on it, hm?

-Chronos "Yes, I write on Fanfiction too"

P.S. Fanfiction has a sister / brother / sibling site named FictionPress.com. I wouldn't know if they were created by the same people, but the layout looks pretty damn close. FictionPress is for ORIGINAL WORKS ONLY. A place where Mnem should go someday soon.
P.P.S. Romeo and Juliet: Failed will soon be updated!
P.P.P.S. About Mnem's cryptic post prior, a tragedy has befallen someone we know. I might talk more of it on a later date.