The idea of having a skill set that you need from HIGHSCHOOL to get into a postsecondary course is just fucking retarded. That’s an academic aspect that is designed on the basis of you knowing what you want to spend the rest of your life doing at GRADE TEN. What the fuck is that? That’s another reason people seem so unhappy with their jobs. They did what they wanted to do in HIGHSCHOOL but by the time they matured and figured out what they really wanted to do with their lives they got shitcanned by the system and were left with the alternatives (in their minds) of jobs based on what they did in highschool. And from there their only options are A: go to adult learning institutions to spend a bunch of time getting the credits they need for the college/uni course they want or B: give up and get a job that they’re presently qualified for. This is problematic because option A requires them to waste even more time sitting in a classroom essentially re-doing highschool and B requires them to sacrifice (in most cases that I’ve found) their happiness to get a real job and work towards retirement.
I can tell you right now that Highschool (grade 10) me and Present day me are two very different people with two very different ambitions. Setting kids up for their futures in this sort of way is very cruel and unfair.
What part of any of that seems like a working system to you?
Human bodies are weird. They’re all very aesthetic things.
Well women’s bodies anyway. Women’s bodies are like the product of european furniture and streamlined chocolate. It’s curvy and nice and fun to look at. Mens bodies happened because of a grudge match between Dumptrucks and some Golems. It’s got odd shapes, the genitalia looks like someone tried to strangle a bag of grapes…in fact some MEN look like that. They’re not very nice to look at. Weird tufts of hair everywhere, and if they’re out of shape it looks like their chin and belly button are trying to make them fall over.
And I feel like whatever designed the human being was a bit generous with all the fancy shit stuffed inside us meatbags. There’s just so much of everything. Like the brain, for instance. If we only use 10% of it like legends say, why is there so much? It’s like a big slice of chocolate cake. You could cut it up into pieces and only have one, like it’s not really your cake. That’s the worst thing ever, when you’re having cake that isn’t yours. Because eating cake is a sort of personal thing. Sometimes you’ll sit down and have a glass of milk and some nice chocolate cake. If it’s in your own house, you can even stand there with your fork in the whole thing and just go nuts. But if it’s someone else’s cake you can’t conduct yourself in just any manor. You’ve gotta take your slice and sit down. You can’t stand up, because what if the slice they give you breaks before it gets to your plate? Then you spend precious cake time with your tiny fork picking the rest of it off of the cake tray. Which is just bothersome. It’s as if you’re saying to everyone else “Yes, allllll this is my cake and I shan’t be swayed out of stuffing alllll my cake into my stupid fat mouth.” So you just sit down with your cake.
Moral of the story: Human bodies are weird and cake that isn’t yours should be eaten with care.
Due to space being a vacuum, I will not sully my character by using the space metaphor to describe myself.
Space and I are very different. Therefore I will not create a new layer over my profile picture and adjust the opacity so it looks like I’m made of space.
This has been a breakfast tangent by Duncan Crone.
But I can’t seem to quit it. All that ever really seems to happen is that when I do bother to write longer segments, you (the reader) assume TL;DR and continue on, looking at pictures of logs and the like.
If you don’t read what I write,
Because I’m clearly not getting through to you.
Goodnight you people, I’m running on 3 hours of sleep.
The Oscars, to me, seem incredibly overhyped. But, then again, I’m a hermit who hardly ever socializes with other actual people. I know very little about celebrities. The celebrities I actually give a legitimate shit about are Jeff Bridges, Morgan Freeman, Judy Dench, Natalie Portman, Jeff Bridges, Michael J Fox, Morgan Freeman, and the list goes on, but not for too much longer. However, no matter how good an actor is, The Oscars ceremony always humbles them down to the nubs. Especially if they’re hosting the event. Also, there’s far too much cock-polishing going on for my liking. By this, I of course mean The Academy furiously and fanatically polishing the cocks of specific titles…to a mirror shine.
Celebrities have never done anything for me. To me they’re just other people, but with noticeably large commitment issues. Celebrity Marriages never seem to last long. The only one I can remember is Bradgelina Politt (Brad and Angelina) But I think that’s because they spend so much time adopting children like a health nut picks strawberries that they don’t have time to actually notice each other. And to tell you the truth, whether Brad and Angelina split up since I last heard about them is a mystery to me. They could still possibly be together. I don’t know. My point here is that Celebrities are just people, and don’t deserve the attention. They’re in movies, for christ’s sake. Do you celebrity-magazine-reader-types not realize this? Wanna watch DiCaprio? Rent Titanic, leave the man alone. Once you realize that they are, in fact ordinary people but with no capacity for marriage and have successful places in the entertainment industry, they’ll stop being so popular and stop being shoved in my beautiful face.
Why is it that whenever an actor (or actors) is selected to present an award, they always prepare some goofy thing, like a skit. Skit is the proper word for this, because it is certainly not a sketch. Monty Python did Sketches. Those were funny. I laughed so hard I shit myself. Twice. But what happened on that stage was not Sketch comedy. It was a skit. A skit is something the guy in the office that “everybody says should do stand-up” prepares before his very long, very boring, time-wasting slideshow about The rise of whatever. Justin Timberlake had his sense of humor replaced with sweet green underglow 3 years ago. Everyone knows this. Not only is he not Banksy, but he’s also not that funny. He did try though. Oh how he tried. The comedic attempts aren’t what gets me though. What gets me is this. These are actors. People who ACT FOR A LIVING. They make notorious amounts of money saying words that aren’t their own, conveying fake emotions and they do it well…in most cases *cough* NicholasCage *cough* . But how they act on stage…It seems to equate to my Public School theater production of Ann Of Green Gables, or in some cases, plain ol’ bad community theater. I know for a fact Tom Hanks is guilty of this. It was during the time he had that terrible Mullet from The Da Vinci Code or “Smart Cars Can’t Chase.”
Lastly, the cock-polishing. Now there’s always rumours that The Oscars are rigged, people get paid off, blather blather whatever. For Instance, last year Slum Dog Millionaire cleaned up. I do confess it was a fantastic movie, but was overhyped. Like a girlfriend whose Boyfriend just keeps bringing her flower and chocolates and posting facebook statuses that even his future self will cringe at. This seems to be a recurring theme. One movie gets too many awards that it knows what to do with. And this year, it was terrible. Toy Story 3, you assholes. I don’t think you critics realized exactly how awesome it is. Why would you neglect the most epic animated trilogy ever? What would make you think that that’s even an option?
And so, it’s almost 3 in the morning, technically The Oscars happened yesterday…And I’m glad to have it behind me now, leaving me to build up a full tank of piss to blast at next year’s Oscars ceremony. With any luck, the critics will maybe become level headed. Or perhaps they’ll just all die from a deadly neurotoxin injected via dart gun from 40 yards away. Perhaps the actors presenting the awards will actually learn to direct themselves on a stage, or maybe they’ll just have EVERYTHING pre-recorded like so much current Hardcore music, or like 70% of The Oscars themselves. Maybe we’ll all realize that Celebrity obsessions is just like obsessing over your neighbour, and hanging pictures of them all over your walls, and sheets with their faces on them on your bed is really fucking creepy. One can hope.
Do we even know why they’re called Oscars? It had something to do with Bette Davis…
Alright. This has gone on long enough. If I get a poorly written text nowadays, quite simply, I won’t respond to it. Take your time and send me something that tells me you actually went to school. I know, it’s a simple thing.
If it’s so simple why is it so difficult for you?
There’s much more that I can complain about, but it’s not even 11 AM yet and I need to go eat breakfast.
Personally, I think Twitter is a chief suspect for the degradation of the english language and the instilling of abbreviations and ridiculous short-forms. 140 characters of doom.