Archive for June, 2010

Three Crayola Crayons

June 29, 2010

I only get to choose three crayons for my picture. Hopefully I’m lucky and I get to select from one of those Crayola 64-colour boxes, because some excellent colours reside inside. Which ones would I choose?

Tickle Me Pink
Pink invokes happiness. It sparks a sense of liveliness, not in a crackhead roadrunner sort of way, but in a refined, blushing cheeks sort of way. It is a combination of White and Red, both beautiful colours, but sometimes too bold and attention-grabby on their own. Pink is the perfect blend of positive emotions.

Burnt Orange
Orange is an underrated colour, perhaps because it’s the secondary offspring of primary Red and Yellow. But I love it. Burnt Orange is especially nice because it’s warm and earthy. Sitting next to a fireplace on a cold winter night, watching the sunset after a long summer day at the lake, eating a slice of Grandma’s delicious pumpkin pie – these are all feelings associated with Burnt Orange. And it’s never overwhelming, even if it’s the only colour you use.

Cerulean
Every picture needs a blue pigment. Whether it be used for something as ordinary as the sky or as deep as the innocence in a child’s eye, Cerulean is a multi-purpose colour that never fails to portray the correct sensation. Cerulean changes its own colour based on its surroundings. Next to Burnt Orange, Cerulean is the royal blue, the grandfather of blue, the loyal, serene, powerfully silent blue. Next to Tickle Me Pink, Cerulean is the lively blue, the playful blue, the bright, mischievous, afternoon blue. It is the perfect counterpart to any colour.

Plinky

June 29, 2010

Okay so you know how I have a problem with being a regular blogger? I found a cure! It goes by the name of Plinky. And I only stumbled upon this little miracle today.

Plinky.com is a new service that generates a prompt on a daily basis, for people like me (who suffer from writer’s block) to answer. So I just set up my account, but today’s question* doesn’t apply to me, so I guess I’ll have to start tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll go through the archives and answer a previous one just to test out the service. We’ll see what happens.

*”What do you like most about your job?” – Hahaha, trick question! You can’t fool me! I don’t like anything about my job!

Boo who?

June 20, 2010

Start the commotion

June 13, 2010

Okay brace yourselves for what I’m about to tell you, because chances are, you’ll shit your pants with excitement: I now have… a photo blog. And you’re not invited to check it out! Hahaha just kidding. But seriously, how much will you pay me for the link? A handful of gummy bears and a half-melted ice cube?! Sold! To the gentleman in the white lab coat approaching me with a strait jacket and a taser gun.

The Meaning of Life

UPDATE: For those of you who suffer from moderate to severe retardationĀ (like “Pelzina’s relative”), the link is posted above. Click on the coloured words, and let the magic of the Internet transcend you into another space and time. Jesus, it’s really not that difficult. *shakes head disapprovingly*

Wet-ish dreams

June 1, 2010

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but any time I dream about water, I have no problem breathing under it. I think the reason is because my body in real life is breathing normally, so in my dream I must breathe normally too, in order to not drown on a subconscious inkling.

Anyway so I was walking past this shallow manmade lake in the middle of the city (similar to theĀ reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial) with one of my friends. Suddenly, I get side-tackled and my attacker and I fall into the pool. I didn’t get too pissed off though, because I expected to just be able to stand up and be knee-deep in water. Negative. I was so wrong.

Using skillful rope techniques, my attacker connected his belt to mine and then slowly dragged me down into the cold, dark depths. Like I said, I have no problem breathing under water, but it was still scary as shit, because we were sinking for a long time and there were a lot of weird things going on. At about the 15 meter mark, this giant evil basilisk swam around me and whispered Latin curses. But I kept my eyes half-closed because I wasn’t really in the mood for a death stare.

We continued sinking, and I found a lot of money and things people had lost over the years. At one point there was a round table, and four knights and a cat were sitting around it playing some fucked up version of poker. And they weren’t playing for chips or cash, they were playing for bullets.

The deeper we sank, the darker and colder the water became, until I could no longer decide which way was up and which way was down. It was the eeriest feeling. Such a deafening silence (excuse the oxymoron), and strange weightless feeling of buoyancy. Eventually, we landed on a hard surface. We finally made it to the bottom! The dude I was attached to checked his illuminated watch and said we were at 227 meters. What strong lungs we have!

We took a little walk around, but due to our practical blindness, we gave up pretty quickly. Then, without warning, the attached guy severed our bond, kicked off from the ground, and torpedoed into a skyward direction. Uh, okay. Am I meant to follow or something? So I did the same, but when I kicked off from the ground, I landed again almost immediately. Know what I mean? It’s as if I jumped up and landed again. Like, as if I wasn’t in water anymore. Fucken great. Now what was I supposed to do? 227 meters below sea level, and the laws of physics don’t apply to me. Nice.

So I picked a direction and started walking. Pitch black. It was difficult for me to even maintain balance, that’s how dark it was. Eventually, I saw something. As in, something was glowing in the distance. I followed the light and found a school of angler fish, rehearsing some songs for the gospel choir. The music was beautiful, but they were so ugly that it was difficult to watch. When “Hallelujah” was over, the conductor turned around and smiled (if you can call it that). “We’ve been expecting you,” he said in a semi-creepy serial killer voice. “Are you ready to travel back to your world? Or would you rather prefer to join us?”

“Uh, I’m cool thanks, I don’t need to join you. I’ll just uh, you know, go back to my human world.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah I’m pretty sure, thanks.”

“Because we can offer you so much more.”

“Nah dude, trust me, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Really really?”

“Yes.”

“Really really really?”

“ARE YOU ON FUCKING CRACK?! I WANT TO GO BACK TO THE GODDAMN SURFACE, SO STOP FUCKING WITH ME AND HELP ME, YOU UGLY PIECE OF SHIT!”

Oops, that was a big mistake. The entire choir glowered at me, and the lights on their heads shone brighter. They were pretty pissed off. My bad. I slowly backed away, hoping they’d just let me leave, but they swam closer and closer to me, ever so slowly. So I turned around and sprinted.

They were catching up pretty quickly, and just as the conductor was about to bite my head off, I leapt in the air and kept rising. Yessss! I have my buoyancy back! The laws of physics do exist! I swam as hard and fast as I could. I passed the poker-playing guys, and the cat fired a shot past me. So I grabbed hold of the bullet and it zoomed me through the water. 150… 100… 80… 75… Wait am I slowing down? Bullocks. I let go of the bullet (who was panting and trying desperately to catch its breath, by the way) and swam a bit myself. I made it to about 40 meters and the sun was shining in the near distance. Almost at the surface, woo!

But then the basilisk decided to come fuck things up for me. You know about basilisks, right? They’re the kings of serpents or reptiles, and they can kill you instantly by just looking at you. Think Harry Potter. Anyway so this basilisk sonofagun starts taunting me, and I’m too tired to put up a fight. And it’s kinda difficult to fight with a giant sea serpent if your eyes are half closed. So I implored him to just back off and leave me alone because I want to just carry on my way and get to the surface. He seemed to take pity on me, because with the flick of his head, he flipped me onto his back, and slithered to the top. Just below the surface, he told me to never tell anyone what I had witnessed today. I promised that I wouldn’t, thanked him, and stepped off his head and onto the street.

But wait. This wasn’t the same reflecting pool I initially got into. I wasn’t in front of the Lincoln Memorial, I was in front of the Taj Mahal! And Ten was running towards me from the distance, carrying a newborn baby! And then I woke up. And contrary to what I promised the basilisk, I’m telling you my tale. I hope I’m not going to be forever cursed…


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