<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176</id><updated>2012-01-19T02:37:53.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You have been waylaid by enemies</title><subtitle type='html'>I don't want no drama. No no no no drama.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-3717414642454481065</id><published>2007-08-29T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T04:01:18.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ultimate remix!</title><content type='html'>OMG! Did you know that if you google "You have been waylaid by enemies", the first hit you get is my blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking, "TOM! That's not exactly unusual! That's the title of your blog!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True! But I stole the sentence cos I'm a dirty stealer. It's actually a nerd-culture reference. In that you might hear it up to 12 million times each time you play &lt;i&gt;Baldur's Gate&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm back at uni. We can pretend that has been the reason for my bloglessness. I don't mind the courses this time around. One of my lecturers plays the crazy old coot quite well. Instead of writing notes on the coursework I just write down the almost philosophical rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Software holons. For example, a person's heart is a holon, I mean, if you tear it out of someone's chest it will keep beating. For a while. [Accompanied by a beating-heart hand gesture.]"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[Turns to new slide.] So, here's a quote, well, what can you do with a quote, well you can read it, I suppose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah! I just got cereal in my eye. I swear to god. You're going to have to excuse any spelling mistakes I make. I know what you're thinking, "Oh, Tom. The old 'mitigate spelling mistakes thanks to cereal in the eye' trick." But it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a full time job. The whole first month is training. I'm being paid to learn! If only I wasn't learning otherwise-useless business rigmarole. So much powerpoint. You guys think a two hour lecture is bad? Try staring at dotpoints and clipart for EIGHT HOURS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end we're all delerious. One guy in my group responded to a question with "Sorry, could your repeat that again? The question's not going into my brain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm far worse. I find I'm putting the dotpoints to music in my head. "Find two IDs to merge together, and be absolutely sure as to whether, it should stay that way forever -ever -ever, -eh -eh -eh, under my umbrella -ella -ella".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ultimate remix!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. And that's all she wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by 'she' I mean 'he'. And by 'he' I mean 'me'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-3717414642454481065?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/3717414642454481065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=3717414642454481065' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3717414642454481065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3717414642454481065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/08/ultimate-remix.html' title='The ultimate remix!'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-6624347417522534100</id><published>2007-06-15T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T01:17:06.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With the funky C and EVERYTHING.</title><content type='html'>It's time for my semesterly first-exam recap/tirade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first I'd like to thank people for stopping by my blog day-in day-out despite the fact I haven't updated in a month. Know that I do the exact same for you. Feel the updateless love. And I'd especially like to thank all those people (or one repeat offender?) from the Netherlands. You must have something better to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it was the worst. The worst. Have you ever gotten into an exam and there are terms that are completely new to you? No, me either til now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Façade? Façade?! With the funky C and everything? That's not a database-related word! I can &lt;i&gt;scale-up, drill-down, roll-up&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;pivot&lt;/i&gt;. I know &lt;i&gt;quorums&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;hashes&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;kerberos&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;collision&lt;/i&gt;! Ok that last line sounded Dr. Zuess-ish but they're all legitimate terms, trust me. Anyway, I can do all these things, and &lt;b&gt;that&lt;/b&gt;'s the question you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, questions were asked, questions weren't answered. It wasn't a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose when you've written a number of books about your field of study, writing straightforward exam questions holds no interest. Better to just ask questions about topics that were side-notes to the material and email the most ridiculous answers to your colleagues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. It's probably my fault. I didn't really have time this semester to give any of my subjects even a half-assed attempt. These few months nearly killed me. So I'm thinking.. that I might not bother going full-steam ahead next semester in order to finish at the end of the year. Maybe just do 2 units. And then graduate half-way through next year. Plus side: I might actually enjoy uni again. Minus side: I'm wasting time in the marshalling area when I could be out in the real world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-6624347417522534100?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/6624347417522534100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=6624347417522534100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/6624347417522534100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/6624347417522534100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/06/with-funky-c-and-everything.html' title='With the funky C and EVERYTHING.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-4605279611767313881</id><published>2007-05-14T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T08:10:15.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that too much to ask?</title><content type='html'>I wish I had time for blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a rut. I don't like it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a random event to cause an exciting series of events to befall me. Perhaps with a minor complication that I resolve in the end to everyone's satisfaction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-4605279611767313881?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/4605279611767313881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=4605279611767313881' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/4605279611767313881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/4605279611767313881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/05/is-that-too-much-to-ask.html' title='Is that too much to ask?'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-7821105066595494454</id><published>2007-04-28T02:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T03:05:29.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Or so.</title><content type='html'>I remember this place. I would write words here, once. Well blow the metaphorical dust off this virtual page, bitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where have I been? Between uni and those 5 hour blocks of SVU on TV1 (watch it), I have no time to myself these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I lie. During the holidays I had more than enough time to pick up a keyboard and jot down a little somethin' somethin'. But, ya know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays weren't overly eventful. But there were some awesome times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some not so good. I spent a lot of the time doing an assignment using OpenGL. Haha. Yeah. An experience akin to beating your head against a wall and then drawing with whatever pours out. But the freaking blood just won't dry where you want it to and- Alright, this analogy is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some mandatory blogospheric stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin is being paid to blog with one of the media organisations. THANKFULLY NOT SMH. God, the SMH bloggers are tools. It grieves me that they're sponsored to spout the same junk that any half-decent blogger writes on a daily basis. With the same number of grammatical errors, just more sensationalism (posing as poignancy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully she'll try to do something different with hers. It's troubling news. It could really go either way. Whatever the outcome, go team extended-family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading a lot of IT blogs lately. For a long time I resisted blogs that professed anything other than a constant stream of madness, but I feel I should at least &lt;i&gt;play the part&lt;/i&gt; of an IT student. My current favourite: &lt;a href="http://www.codinghorror.com/blog/"&gt;Coding Horror&lt;/a&gt;. Although, many of them just pander to what the nerd-community wants, ie., posts about how firefox ownz etc. But who even cares; if you're being catered to you're being catered to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to finish off, three times in as many days I've noticed people misuse the phrase "or so" where they should be saying "and such", "and so forth", "etcetera", "and the like" or finally "or some shit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact I'll look it up right now. Answers.com tells me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;or so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately, especially alluding to a number, as in Four hundred or so guests are invited.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Answers.com! How else would I have peripherally discovered there's a movie called &lt;i&gt;That's So Raven: Disguise the Limit&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most insane movie title ever! Teen movies don't have to make sense anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much like blog entries.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-7821105066595494454?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/7821105066595494454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=7821105066595494454' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/7821105066595494454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/7821105066595494454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/04/or-so.html' title='Or so.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-3851090972128126296</id><published>2007-03-23T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T00:00:29.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Jess: That's like the simplest multitasking ever! The kind where you don't have to think about the other thing till you hear a huge "BEEEEEEEEEEP FUCKERS!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, still March. Is it just me, or is March the month that won't END. I don't know what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In answer to Jess's question, 133t ski11z allow me to discover incoming google searches. But while we're back on this, let me just say that the web-community is starved for toucan-related information! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I hate to be the guy who posts his google searches, but they're always good for a laugh so here's incoming searches for this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;toucan (enemies)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;nondescript white van&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;you have never been a friend to me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;why did you have to go msn names&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How many emos does it take to screw in a light bulb&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best answer to the last one wins a prize!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Pandora is too clever! For the last half hour it's been playing me music I like! But music I like so much in fact I already have it on my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, &lt;i&gt;If you're random and you know it, talk to Tom&lt;/i&gt; day struck again on thursday with: "ACT THREE: a dishevelled drunkard meets me on the Northern Line"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Where are ya comin from?&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;Where'd ya get on tha train?&lt;br /&gt;Epping.&lt;br /&gt;Ahww! &lt;i&gt;The Epping&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;*slight head shake*&lt;br /&gt;The uni?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;My sister's going to uni.&lt;br /&gt;Mm?&lt;br /&gt;Yah she's doing some fancy stuff. But I didnt cos Im a dumb cunt.&lt;br /&gt;Mm.&lt;br /&gt;So what's your degree?&lt;br /&gt;.......Information Technology.&lt;br /&gt;Huh?&lt;br /&gt;Information. Technology.&lt;br /&gt;Wah? One more time?&lt;br /&gt;*loudly so carriage can hear me* Information Technology.&lt;br /&gt;What's that about?&lt;br /&gt;Information, mostly. *Lady behind me snorts*&lt;br /&gt;Where-&lt;br /&gt;This my stop.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Snorty, you can roll your eyes and try to exchange glances with me all you like, but I don't see you trying to get Creepy's attention away from me. So I won't exchange back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exchange back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a kinda shitty day. I got an ouchie. On something sharp. I still don't know what it was. I was running you see. I run fairly quickly (as opposed to that slow kind?). Anyway, I'm not a bad runner. And only when I was across the street and down the road had I noticed what seemed to be a minor scrape against a pole had actually torn apart my tshirt and left slashings on my shoulder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it looked pretty cool. Like I'd been in a sword fight! I wanted to take a photo. But after 20 minutes of driving home it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; hurt and needed lots of band-aids. And I was pretty pissed off generally so I wasn't going to amplify that by some prolonged scavenging for a camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. I'm eating yoghurt. &lt;i&gt;Blackforest flavoured&lt;/i&gt;. Seriously. Yoplait know their stuff. It actually tastes like some sort of blackforest cake smoothie. And why coffee shoppes, or even the lesser "shops", doesn't already make those, I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also voted today. I really went in there uninformed and it shits me. But I'm too busy learning about computers and their problems to learn about Australia and its problems. I didn't risk giving Labor OR Liberal a 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the country doesn't explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If/When I start my politcal party, THAT will be my tagline.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-3851090972128126296?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/3851090972128126296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=3851090972128126296' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3851090972128126296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3851090972128126296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-hope.html' title='I hope.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-1097868559015165058</id><published>2007-03-02T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T03:58:53.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You came off a little creepy!</title><content type='html'>You know, people have been getting my blog by googling for the words "toucan skeleton".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pleases me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm back at uni this week. O-week was good fun as usual. I joined a lot of societies whose meetings I will never attend. Good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has already become apparent that I've bitten off more than I chew, or even fit in my mouth really, in that I'm taking 5 units. While 4 is all they allow you to do. But the computer let me punch it in, so we'll see how that works out. If nobody sees me for weeks you'll know I've sequestered myself into study or have suffered a nervous breakdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The software-project unit that I'm taking is especially fearsome. They've yet to even tell us what company my group will be headed out to week-after-week. The whole thing's an organisational mess, as are most computing subjects at Macquarie, they didn't even tell us how to contact our other group members. It was implied that we should socially engineer this information from the student numbers and the addresses in the "TO:" line of the group emails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldnt've been easier to, I dunno, write a program to send out that information to us? You teach people to do that all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I'm just glad I'm on top of things at the moment. I was feeling a stupendous cold coming on the weekend before I went back. So I took enough to vitamin C tablets to protect my body from &lt;i&gt;bullets&lt;/i&gt;, let alone disease. I've been gradually weaning myself off the tablets with orange Tic Tacs. Blogging was meant to take my mind off the fact I'm on my last Tic Tac. Alas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I have time to post this is I left my 3 hour lecture 2 hours early. The air conditioning was on full blast and I wasn't ready for that kind of temperature. I had to go outside. Into the rain. Where it was &lt;i&gt;warm&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys would tell me if Thursdays are "If you're random and you know it, talk to Tom" day, wouldn't you? To name a few from last week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy on the train platform who kept offering me cigarettes? You came off a little creepy! Girl who sat down at a table with Emma and I at the bar, obviously not drunk enough to have any excuse to do so? You're totally uninteresting, back from whence you came! Random guy who approached me and said "you look as if you like metal" and had a 20 minute conversation with me about Nightwish? Full marks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet hurt. Yesterday I wore thongs to uni. It's the done thing! You're meant to look like you don't care. And frankly, we don't, so that works out nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it turns out I had a practical in a laboratory that day. What does this mean, boys and girls who have felt the icy grip of OH&amp;S at their neck before? Yes, enclosed footwear. So with five minutes until the prac begins I ran to Mac centre and procured a pair of very cheap (and the ladeez tell me: also quite ugly) shoes. I return to class in the nick of time for the practical advisor to tell us that "Enclosed shoes must normally be worn! But there is no practical today. Please sign your name and go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving me with a twitch in my face-punching hand and a new pair of shoes. Anyway, they're comfortable, I might go running in them or something. They're really springy. I don't know why you need to know that. But it doesn't make it any less true. (Words for this blog to live by.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote's at the bottom today! Why, you ask? Why does it matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Tom: I bought myself a Macquarie t-shirt. I haven't decided whether it's cool or not.&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: I was going to get a USyd one but it looked too "blah blah blah cheerleaders blah blah OMG".&lt;br /&gt;Tom: Yeah, mine's in the exact font you're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: Just promise me you won't wear it to Macquarie. Everyone will take the time to be like, "Tom, &lt;b&gt;WE KNOW&lt;/b&gt;."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-1097868559015165058?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/1097868559015165058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=1097868559015165058' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/1097868559015165058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/1097868559015165058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-came-off-little-creepy.html' title='You came off a little creepy!'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-3487276844693069028</id><published>2007-01-25T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T01:02:30.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ANYTHING other than VB</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Tom: This is just not cricket:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=48eHkZfnGug"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=48eHkZfnGug&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess: Oh man.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch it. Waaaatch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's Australia Day and has been for 2 hours. I've been out for late night coffee with Jess and Maddie, 'cos it's been a while. And now I'm spazzing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this entry comes of having absolutely nothing else to do. My torrents are slow and I think I just may have squeezed the last remaining video that's actually entertaining out of YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't really done much since my last entry. I went to Jacqui's place with the intent to make cupcakes while watching R-rated movies, because we appreciate the contrast. But I was late, so we didn't do either. Yep, best blog ever. "Here's all the things I didn't do." I also didn't have an epic space-battle with the queen of the space-demons. So let's move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we DID do was watch &lt;i&gt;A Mighty Wind&lt;/i&gt;, which is a great movie. Once you realise how much of it is improvisation. Which may have coloured your judgement. So forget I said anything. See it. If you like it, see the latest one, &lt;i&gt;For Your Consideration&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is exactly what we did today at the Dendy. Not as Mighty or Windy as the former, but still chuckleworthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to tell you about the cafe we went to. On the menu amongst the food and drink listings was a paragraph that read something like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;center&gt;My name is [such and such] and I have a bike named Lucy.&lt;br /&gt;LUCY!!!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if this didn't make them awesome enough, the ambient music was YouTube stage recordings. And they had the restaraunt's mySpace written on the specials board. Not that I condone mySpace, but still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wholly recommend it but cannot remember it's name. Look for the.. big.. yellow one in Newtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For only the geeky-inclined: I spent yesterday learning how to use .NET functions. I think mySpace should probably be MySpace, but I can barely bring myself to type it. It feels wrong. In any event, Visual Basic auto-fixes your capitalisation of variable names now. That's just weird. Also, I guess I've been using too much... ANYTHING other than VB because it seems I can't deal with lines missing a semicolon anymore. I really need the closure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. When you're watching the &lt;strike&gt;atrocity&lt;/strike&gt; video, keep your eye out for the 'O RLY' at the end. 20x better than any owl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-3487276844693069028?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/3487276844693069028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=3487276844693069028' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3487276844693069028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/3487276844693069028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/01/anything-other-than-vb.html' title='ANYTHING other than VB'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-204823636997199248</id><published>2007-01-20T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T06:27:48.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning the sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Tom: I've always wanted to be thrown out of church.&lt;br /&gt;Jess: well, we can still arrange it, if that's what you'd like&lt;br /&gt;Tom:  I'll pipe up at "If anyone has reason.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to have an msn quote at the start of every entry. I actually thought about it at some point last year but nobody said anything funny for a week so that killed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm about to go out to dinner with my peep(s?) but I thought that I should probably do something constructive today so as to have not spent the whole day merely using up food and air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was doing precisely that, until Em popped her little head out of the msn-sand and was all "You're coming with me to Castle Hill or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way to nowhere in particular, a street was lined with cars and people standing around. Em had heard that a comet would be showing itself and we assumed that was the reasoning behind those fifty or so people burning the sunset into their corneas. We pulled over and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful event. Emma and I made New Comet Resolutions because we'd both been so lax at new years eve. After about 5 minutes of watching the speck, we realised how truly unspectacular it can be. So we drove off while other more-hardened spectators gave us weird looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up watching &lt;i&gt;Neverwhere&lt;/i&gt;. It's a bizarre BBC series we hired on DVD just randomly. It must be the geeks in us, because an underground city of fantasy characters below London is just too good NOT watch for 4 hours. Despite the&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sentence was meant to go somewhere! But instead I went out to the aforementioned dinner with Jess. It was tasty! And now it is 3 or 4 days later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just been to Jess's bro's wedding. It ended the same time I would normally get out of bed. Sarah's dad flung his car into my driveway at 7.30. And I was just not up to it. I think he was trying to talk to me but I didn't understand the words coming out of his mouth and I was just trying to tangle my tie into submission while we careened into the city. But it was a really nice wedding. And my first. So that was an experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, watch &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xop82OlHPPY"&gt;Frisky Dingo&lt;/a&gt;. From start until finish. Because NOTHING should waste a few hours of your life but hilarious, epically-random cartoons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-204823636997199248?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/204823636997199248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=204823636997199248' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/204823636997199248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/204823636997199248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/01/burning-sunset.html' title='Burning the sunset'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-5153525899047898144</id><published>2007-01-05T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T08:32:56.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's so freaking insane.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Tom says:&lt;br/&gt;I need to write a blog entry, but I cant get started. Advice?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Alistair says:&lt;br/&gt;pick a word, then pick another, then pick your nose. Then combine them all together and make that the starting sentence&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Soooooooo............. oh lordy, faithful readers. It's been some time. And so much has happened. Insert all the other standard laments that preface my entries.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It's a saturday in the holidays and I'm bored. I haven't been out of my pj's for 2 days. I can only imagine I smell to high heaven. But if the angels haven't beamed down some deoderant for me, I'm sure it can't be that bad.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And it appears I've forgotten how to write about what I've been up to without it turning into pointform crap. So let's talk about something trivial.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Let's talk about &lt;i&gt;Fergalicious&lt;/i&gt;. Like the rest of the goddamn interworld (and real world? I've been away a while, I just don't know). &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;But see, that was the plan wasn't it? And it worked. Nobody can get it out of their head. It's not great music. And yet, I know practically all the words. And I like it! I do. It's so freaking insane that it grabs me right by my sense of random. It was the same with &lt;i&gt;My Humps&lt;/i&gt; which I also enjoyed at a purely surreal level.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And if she's right, she's right. I'd be &lt;i&gt;lining up the block just to see what she's got&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;But I cling to these hopes:&lt;br/&gt;Fergie also knows the song is ridiculous at a fundamental level and hopes that we all get a little kick out of how she is actually sending-up the genre and our society in general. And of course some people will mistake satire for the real thing, it's one of the hazards of the medium. But if some of us get it, just some of us, she'll smile a wry smile as she gets scantily-clad and jumps out of the cake at her next concert.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Oh! I ended up letting my hair grow long. I don't really know how to describe the length. Maybe halfway between punk and power-metal. Apparently it looks so freakin awesome that whenever I mention I want a haircut nobody will allow it. Ok. Whatevs.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Tim finally came to the correct side of the country. So it was great to meet him IRL. The good news is he's just as peculiar in person as on the internet. I was present at such things as his arrival and Pancakes on the Rocks. Good times, good times.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Speaking of internet. And.. through internet, I guess. Jacqui and I went to the city this week to see &lt;i&gt;Babel&lt;/i&gt;. But first we went to an adult bookshop on the way for shits and giggles. We walked up and with all the wall to wall DVDs of pornography and TV screens displaying samples, I yelled something along the lines of "GAH, holy crap, it's like the internet has manifested itself in this room!" and got some weird looks. Mostly from Jacqui. Then she bought &lt;i&gt;Porn Wars: Episode II&lt;/i&gt; for her friend for a late but hilarious christmas present.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And &lt;i&gt;Babel&lt;/i&gt;... well it could've been a good movie. If fastforwardable. This director seems to be overly fond of music set to lengthy panning shots. His thirst for them just cannot be satiated! And you'll see a number of scenes twice/for longer than they should be. He just doesn't know what to cut.&lt;br/&gt;Also, someone has to explain the shite out of the closing scene to me. Who let them get away with that piece of insanity?&lt;br/&gt;I didn't much like the acting of Brad Pitt. And since Kate Blanchett's character is incapacitated she can't really help those scenes.&lt;br/&gt;But all in all, if you're a literary-movie-type, and I like to think I am, you'll love the 'themes and issues'. And we won't mind overlooking the plausibility.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So, 2007 huh? When did that happen? NYE is the answer you're looking for. I went to Lady Macquarie's Chair with Emma and her RMC-peeps. All of whom are well-travelled and interesting people. We had the best. view. ever. On the very tip of the point opposite the opera house. It was breathtaking. I could feel the ground shake underfoot at the explosions. Who the crap needs "hearing" anyway.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Oh, I did quite well in my exams which was a massive relief. Yep. Anachronism is the new 'your entries should be linear and have a point!'.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I'm out.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;style&gt;i{content: normal !important}&lt;/style&gt;&lt;style&gt;i{content: normal !important}&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-5153525899047898144?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/5153525899047898144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=5153525899047898144' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/5153525899047898144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/5153525899047898144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2007/01/and-if-shes-right-shes-right.html' title='It&apos;s so freaking insane.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-116442219872584578</id><published>2006-11-24T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T18:46:08.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Posted a day late at uni.</title><content type='html'>I have no internet at the moment so I thought I'd write a blog entry. Goooood logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of logic, I had my exam today. It went great! But today has been awful. Just awful. Ful of the worst aw imaginable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got trapped in the parking lot. Not the good kind of trapped where the gates are shut and I decide to gun it up the gutter and along the footpath with Jess fearing for her life. No, the gridlock kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 minutes to my exam. 20 minutes to my exam. 10 minutes to my exam. A spot? A spot! It's mine! BACK OFF, OLD MAN. Ok cool. Well it's a bit small, just go slowly slowly slowly- &lt;i&gt;SCREEEEEECH&lt;/i&gt;. [Very colourful/inventive swearing here]. WHO PUTS A PILLAR THERE ANYWAY. Just reverse- &lt;i&gt;SCREEEEEECH&lt;/i&gt;. Ok trying that again. Alright. There we go. Good car, good car. Exam now, repairs for you later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was wrong to think my parents would believe the car just needed a splash of "Level 2" yellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit. DAMMIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And an hour and a half getting home? What IS that. I just don't see this happening because I use the train. I have an excuse to drive to uni today, all the other commuters are freaking lazy. They're making it worse for everyone and they don't see it. You're all FUCKIN LUCKY I don't have a shotgun. Or like, good aim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Haven't blogged for a while it seems. Awesome things have happened! But in general, boring things have happened. I'm just going to note the bare essentials. I had a great bday party! So did Silvia! And Scott! But you guys don't know him. Not so essential after all! Ishouldbedeletingnotstilltyping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaanyway. I've been kind of addicted to YouTube and MSN these days, hence the no blogness. And when I say "kind of", I mean "hopelessly". But in that vein, here's some msn names of times past. Most of it is from msn conversations but some of it's plagiarism. See if you remember any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social ladder: I'm not trying to climb it. I'm just trying to push other people off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When am I NOT talking in MSN names? (Ooh mentioning MSN in an MSN name! Metafiction!) There was NO FICTION INVOLVED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't sue me legalstudies dude|We dont learn how to sue. But if you violate human rights I know exactly who to tell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never does a star grace this land with a poet's light of twinkling mysteries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a garden, dig it. | Life is NOT a garden, so quit being a ho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was it? Well, there was too much ice and not enough wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One should always look at Google before choosing a brandname, an appliance or a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not prone to hyperbole!" I bellowed in his face with the volume of a thousand foghorns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me hear ya say "oh". Let me hear ya say "hey, oh". Hey oh hey oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have engaged the Borg.... The wedding's on Friday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commander Keen was an albino in a pink shirt and helmet. Yet he was still cool. | But Tom I can't w- | STILL. COOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conservatory must have a huge deathcount. Why do people still go in there?|Tim:It's for the fresh, corpsey air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm dealing with this the same way I dealt with my own alcoholism and drug addiction, with lies and delusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd bitchslap you so hard you'll need a skin graft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Andy: Well the bishop came to our church today. Never ONCE moved diagonally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact "teh" has even evolved beyond a spelling error to be a modifier: I am teh ha)(0rz. Means I'm a good haxorz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what would happen if you strap toast butterside-up to a cat and drop it?|Tom: Don't, you'll break the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Diana Ross's husband fell in a rockclimbing accident. I guess there WAS a mountain high enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from delivering toys, Santa's main job is fighting the space spiders. Why weren't you told? You never asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tranquilised- How do you know? | Because I spent my day on the internet. The self-amused, cynical underbelly of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's onomatopoeia, not a company name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I like a bit of abstract art. BUT Come on. That's a square. It means nothing. It means, I have a ruler and pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If god sued the devil for insider trading, who would arbitrate? Buddha? Gruumsh? Dr. Who? I know, maybe Science!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A party. Everyone's there:2x,e^x,6x,log( x). 6x: Come on, e^x! Integrate yourself into the party! | e^x: Why bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heard you got excited about it. | Well *I* heard your mum kidnaps schoolkids and throws them off centrepoint tower!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not an electrocuted toucan skeleton! Sheesh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW R U? IM GOOD. LOOK AFTER FLUFFY, CATFOOD IS UNDER SINK. LOVE GRANDMA. XOXO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did he- was he- no. You can't ouija a decorative plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the grammarians' curse! No man corrects english without making his own mistake! Or my name aint Silverbeard Compoundnouns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Mountain? I'd tap dat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks to be a grammar nazi in this regular nazi's world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hollicking bitchnuts, Batman! | Robin, youve not been taking your pills. I can tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Stress, the silent killer' (See also Ninjas, Deafness etc) - IOYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I didn't fear death, I'd pour myself another glass. Imagine the indignity of being killed by purple milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not often I have to use the words "complete mental putrefaction", now is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess: Cheltenham. | Door: What? | Jess: What?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had one of the worst days ever. And having to watch Gosford Park again is just the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David. Listen. I'm buried alive where the blossoms shed by the cherrytree are the thickest. Can you come dig me up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to quit, but the cravings. The zombific cravings. You know, to head-pike people. They were just too strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binary search failed: elements out of order. | No, you're out of order! The whole damn system is out of order!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like some great, punctuation-leaking pinata, atop linguil-mermaid infested seas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black-market surgery: Almost as popular as normal surgery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends don't let friends do 135&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got more litmus strips sticking out of your underwear than a stripper has bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure. But I think I can still taste wax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prosecution now calls Megatron, your honour. | PUNY FLESHLINGS! HEAR MY MIGHTY TESTIMONY AND TREMBLE BEFORE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's ALL KINDS of extraneous words in this msn name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accidentally l337&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dy/dx cc's of triowhosywhatsit STAT! Where y = cos(1/x)!&lt;br /&gt;And where x is not equal to zero, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well within acceptable parameters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey. Um. Your name means "grandmother" in italian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Administered by high, nightmarish zombies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is "Death Cab" two words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom: It speaks to me. Monosyllabically. Pallindromically. Almost... onomatopoeically. Tim: You're enjoying this, aren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soldier came knocking upon the queen's door. He said, "I am not fighting for you anymore".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom: I... I fail as an inter-friend. | Tim: Aww, Tom, baby. You're the best inter-friend a cyber-fool like me could ever have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Critomancy is an ancient form of divination of cakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No marks will be given for solutions by other methods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, everyone ignored the puppets' warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick to pet names is the combination of affectionate nouns. Honeybun. Sugarpie. Kittentits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recursion: n. See "Recursion"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I wish I was your differential, because then I'd be touching all your curves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a tattoo, I would get one of you. Or at least of a generic woman's body and draw your head on with a texta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two-cent-rubber patriotism&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blinking in the afternoon sunlight, already fabricating the first lies of morning productivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give us a tantrum, And a know it all grin, Just when we need one, When the evening's thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giant robots! ...That could work. - Go Go, Emo Rangers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Mickey youre so fine, youre so fine you blow my mind! she screamed, as Mickey tried to stem the flow of blood from her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey that's us! | Unless it's clones. I cloned you for my army. Theyre not a good army, they sit and play D&amp;D mostly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morals are back with a vengeance! ..And spiders! | Jess- Morals are the new black!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet me in the futuuuuuure! | Oh man, mustve had some bad.. star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the word 'bind'. It has such mythical connotations. But it's also how you keep papers together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh stop the car, I'm going to unFlurry! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gnomes did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant believe it's not nano-sized butter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy 'cause I'm stupid;Scared of spiders;Scared of flying;If I wasn't so happy;I wouldn't be so scared of dying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To do this question you must set your calculators to: Maths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the glistening fangs of justice hover ever-closer to my behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please do not pee in the divining pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the weirdest thing the other day. A guy THANK an ATM.|That's not THAT weird.|After it pulled him from a burning car wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, I'm a total paradox.|That doesn't make much sense to me.|Oh God, sorry! Did I say paradox? I meant vortex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, but... i toOk thE oNe leSs travELLeD by.. &amp; tHat hAs maDe All tHe difFerenCe - roBeRt froSt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I certainly hope everyone knows that the perplexing new take on the Robert Frost poem was ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No! Hold everything! ...Like some sort of infinite-armed octupus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sings like a word jumble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more than 19 people in my house doing the Nutbush City Limits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok but before he leaves, I try to eat his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of changing alignment. To Neutral Awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all sad. We're losing icons like when someone hits delete on the desktop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CONCEPTION DAY IS AWESOME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just fixing their thought process by putting them in apple crates filled with spiders and rolling them down hills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motherfuckin NAGA on my motherfuckin plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally Ma-Ti with the power of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tranquilised- I'll show YOU vowels! The vowels of HELL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tutor:If you dump a huge log, you're going to need a lot of recovery time.|Tom:*cracks up*|Everyone else:*stares*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, YouTube is weird. | Weird like a fox! A fox made of pure internet.&lt;br /&gt;Is there any other kind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont even laugh anymore unless the joke didnt make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in the phrasing is quietly amazing, we were waiting for the chorus to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to a make-out party! Is this awesome: yes/no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word 'onomatopoeia' is used twice! That probably isn't a good sign.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-116442219872584578?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/116442219872584578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=116442219872584578' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116442219872584578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116442219872584578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/11/posted-day-late-at-uni.html' title='Posted a day late at uni.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-116053211186574088</id><published>2006-10-10T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T19:01:51.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To all my lamposts out there, neva give up</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a while so i thought i'd post instead. This mac keyboard winds me up so if you get the occasional wrong charact£Q$%£r here and there i do ap&lt;br /&gt;ologise. Also the return key is a funny shape.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tried to go round to chris's on Monday as his parents are away but Jess couldn't get there and Chris was too tight about going and picking her up, and i think I must have felt far too awkward about going round there on my own especially after i boasted about my new bondage starter kit and iron maiden.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then Jess and I tried again last night to no avail since i dogged us again for some reason or other. i think I think that i don't love us anymore, but i reassure Myself that that isn't the case, and that i just have a lot of work and my spare nights tend to get used up by other stuff!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i wish all the lampposts in the world would unite and cleanse the world of sorrow. And if all the lampposts shone light into our hearts we would have a happier tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Figure that one out. i'm off to buy a new mailbox because some tossers nicked mine while i was away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-116053211186574088?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/116053211186574088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=116053211186574088' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116053211186574088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116053211186574088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/10/to-all-my-lamposts-out-there-neva-give.html' title='To all my lamposts out there, neva give up'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-116039937555023512</id><published>2006-10-09T06:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T06:09:35.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This doesn't count.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I could do those poignant one-liners other people post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-116039937555023512?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/116039937555023512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=116039937555023512' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116039937555023512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/116039937555023512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-doesnt-count.html' title='This doesn&apos;t count.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115979956889174432</id><published>2006-10-02T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T07:32:48.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't go to sleep. Morning brings... pain.</title><content type='html'>If you're like me, and I know you are (deep down, in your heart of hearts/robot CPU), you will enjoy this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.livejournal.com/stats/latest.bml&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the best invention ever, it lets you scan through all the latest entries on the livejournal ultra-database. Instantly judging the worth of hundreds of journals with a quick skim as you scroll past!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary and amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it made me feel a little bit bloggy myself. I got stung by a meme on my way through. It seems inventive enough so I hope ya'll ctrl-c it yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone quiz:&lt;br /&gt;Grab your mobile &amp; let's go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. What is the phone maker?&lt;br /&gt;Nokia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. What's the last 4 digits of your mobile number?:&lt;br /&gt;I think you mean "what are". But "what is" could be acceptible. I just don't know. Anyway, shut up: I'm not telling you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. What does the 2nd message in your inbox say?&lt;br /&gt;"Hey Tom, how r u? Do u wanna lift to uni tomorrow at" etc etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. Who's the first person who comes up under the letter M?:&lt;br /&gt;Maddie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. Who's the last person you rang?&lt;br /&gt;Home apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06. Who was your last missed call from?&lt;br /&gt;Home again! That's boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07. Who's the 2nd person who comes up under D?:&lt;br /&gt;Daniel W!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08. What does the last message in your inbox say?:&lt;br /&gt;I assume you mean oldest? Well I don't mind disclosing that one: "Seven at Maddie's. Ate at home. Nine food at Maddie's. Ten marks our roam." Chris sure has his moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09. Who's the 3rd person who comes up under J?:&lt;br /&gt;James B!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Go to your Sent Items - what does the 5th message say?:&lt;br /&gt;"That'd be great. I hope you had fun in the hols, I look forward to hearing about it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Who's the 4th person who comes up under S?:&lt;br /&gt;Sensis. I dont even really know how that service works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What does ur Banner say?&lt;br /&gt;By banner I guess you mean "Welcome Note". It says "The answer is not here. So please return to Tom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. How many messages are currently in your inbox?:&lt;br /&gt;There's 48. I like to keep messages. It's almost full. Time to wipe a whole bunch more. Sucks a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What do you have as your background?&lt;br /&gt;A mailbox shaped like a camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Who's the 2nd person who comes up under R?:&lt;br /&gt;Richard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Who do you have on speed dial 3?&lt;br /&gt;Speed-dial? What the crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. If you're on Pay as you Go, how much credit do you have?&lt;br /&gt;I am! Something like 10 dollars. I would call up and check for you, but that costs me 5c.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Who's the first person who comes up under C?:&lt;br /&gt;Carl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. How many bars of signal do you have?&lt;br /&gt;Full or 7 or dark blue. However you want to look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What do you have as your main ringtone?&lt;br /&gt;The Nokia ringtone. LAME I know. But what can you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaanyway. I saw a bunch of movies and did a bunch of things in the holidays etc. Now watch some &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mclbc8nSww4"&gt;pirate rap&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115979956889174432?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115979956889174432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115979956889174432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115979956889174432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115979956889174432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/10/cant-go-to-sleep-morning-brings-pain.html' title='Can&apos;t go to sleep. Morning brings... pain.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115798550917767775</id><published>2006-09-11T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T07:45:19.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yep!</title><content type='html'>So. The entries aren't coming thick and fast. I know. I just don't FEEL like it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so I feel like it now. But I mean in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we're playfully skirting around general here. So I best keep 'splaining. You see, everytime I go to write an entry I'm either:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) At uni where it's hard to write without people looking over your shoulder and besides, my time is better spent passively-aggressively shining my optical mouse laser in the eyes of people who are talking too loudly or too stupidly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b) At my home computer where it's much easier to just watch like a million YouTubes. Last week I was all about satirical YuGiOh redubs. This week it's 'what happens to such-and-such after about 2 minutes in the microwave?', baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look for the one with about 5 lightbulbs in there at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. I realise this whole entry has been about making excuses and I'm cool with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly thanks to Tim, who has been waiting for probably more than a year for me to post the brilliance that is his &lt;i&gt;Sherlock Tom&lt;/i&gt; story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, a deal was struck whereby we would write an entry for each other. I don't even write entries for myself! So thanks to my failure, now I have to give him my firstborn unless I can spin all this straw into gold. Or something. I didn't really look at the fine print.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion! Expect... well expect about as many entries as you're getting now. I ain't gonna lie. Though, it might pick up in the hol's, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This medium isn't exciting me that much any more. It's been decided that Jess and I should get a show. Cos we're funny bastards, ya see. I imagine it's also so people could switch us off easily. Anyway, with the advent of YouTube this could work! Hmmm. Just thinking out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking out... blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking out loudly-coloured blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the other life and times of Tom? They've been quite boring. Though every weekend I do have superfuntimes, nothing remarkable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to holidays. There are rumblings of camping. And I hope I get some more hours at work, if not I'm gonna have to pick up the search for another job to supplement. And we all know how quickly the jobhunt went the first time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone think of something awesome to do in the holidays! And we'll do it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115798550917767775?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115798550917767775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115798550917767775' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115798550917767775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115798550917767775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/09/yep.html' title='Yep!'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115738188953306189</id><published>2006-09-04T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T07:58:09.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tim blogs for me today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sherlock Tom and the Mystery Of The Missing Margaret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me several moments and a brief but thoroughly entertaining pantomime session before I could place the face in front of mine as that of David Stratton, well-known movie critic and human being. Like vengeful pandas from the sea, memories rose to the surface of what passed for my brain. A blissful sleep interrupted. A wonderful dream, shattered. A bunch of armed men, busting into my room and sedating me with horse tranquilliser directly to the eye, before bundling me into a nondescript white van, gagging my mouth with the neighbour’s cat and careening off down the street. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David patted me on the shoulder in a vaguely reassuring manner as I attempted to discreetly wipe my mouth on his carpet. “Now, now, Tom, I must apologise for the rudeness of my men here,” he said, gesturing widely with his spotted hand at an empty corner of the room and a small wrought-iron lamppost. “But it was imperative that I speak with you at the earliest opportunity. Margaret! My dear Margaret has vanished!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Margaret! Of course! The last vestiges of sleep-fog evaporated from my cat-addled brain. Margaret Pomeranz, David’s infamous counterpart in the movie-reviewing circles. My chest tightened and my pulse began to beat faster as I cast my mind back into the hazy mists of the past, and my body struggled to keep up. The fond memories, the hours I’d spend watching her on the television, all came flooding back to me. The way she gave every single movie a rating no worse than three and-a-half stars. The way her hair fell over her eyes when she laughed. The way she flicked her hands around, so that I could never tell whether it was a nervous tic or a cute attempt to cover up the onset of Parkinson’s. She was my two-dimensional movie matron and I loved her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes. “I’ll do it!”, I exclaimed loudly. “Excellent,” said David, as he smacked me across the back of the head with a grand piano. I awoke to find myself at a local movie theatre, enjoying the last fifteen minutes of what appeared to be Action Movie VII. I munched the popcorn that I had apparently purchased and made disparaging remarks about the quality of the plot-line and background music, ignored by the raucous surrounding crowd. Ducking my head, I ran over to the corner of the theatre, where I began to sneeze vigorously, until finally I ejected a small, folded-up piece of papyrus and several other small, unidentifiable organs which variously bounced, splatted or rolled into the darkness, palpitating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I unfurled the paper with shaking, bloodstained hands. “Tom,” it read, “This is the last place Margaret was seen. She was campaigning for the Office of Film and Literature Classification to reconsider their ‘X’ rating for Debbie Does The Football Team, and was threatening to show a copy to the public in defiance of their edict. See what you can find. Yours, David.” I tucked the paper back into my nose for safekeeping and went to have a look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several hours later and covered in an array of small, unidentifiable scratches and bruises, as well as a thick layer of dust and soot, I was discovered by a wandering usher inside the popcorn machine. Given that I was irredeemably lost and had been travelling in circles for hours, I reasoned that I might need his help. My attempts to break the ice with jokes about the unjustly famous rap star Usher did not go down too well, and with shouts of “Stop, peasant!”, and the well-applied end of a torch, I was once again rendered unconscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time around, I awoke to find myself in a chair. It was a badly-designed metaphor, and I said as much to the man I found sitting at the desk in front of me as I extricated myself from it. His moustache apologised profusely and begged me to sit down as he explained himself. I took a seat on my chair and listened with all the ears I could muster. “I know you’re after Margaret Pomeranz,”, he stated with a prescience unmatched in mortal realms. I took the moustache at his word, but he continued: “You’ve come to right place. Margaret was here last night, but she was arrested by the police and taken away.” I visibly blancmanged, and my chair skittered away into the corner, whimpering, as I shot to my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Taken away?!?” I sputtered, “Arrested? The only women to ever rate a Vin Diesel movie and not commit suicide, and they took her away!? Where?! I demand answers!!”. If the moustache could somehow read my multiple exclamation and question marks, he was unfazed. He stood up and walked over to the corner, calming down the whimpering chair. “I understand your anger, my friend. Perhaps you will find the answers you seek at the local constabulary.”  In my anger, I was uncaring. I threw open the door and flung myself through it, body-first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a matter of a few days, I was on the street again. I had been rendered unconscious several times by ushers whose tolerance for my highly exaggeratedly bad sense of direction was growing thin. Passers by looked at me strangely, suspects all. Who could be trusted? Who could I turn to when the OFLC themselves were out to destroy everything I held dear? I hunched my neck into my coat and strode off down the street, stopping every few paces to clutch my neck and wince in an exaggerated comedic fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon enough my feet arrived at the police station, and were shortly followed by my body, having been subject to a most unusual temporal delay caused by mixed metaphors. I opened the door and strode myself inside. “Ho, fat man!”, I announced boldly, “Where are you keeping her? Where is she? Where is my beloved?”. An elderly policeman took kindly to my raving at a recruitment poster on the far wall and ran me down with his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, I was developing quite a convenient callus as my head, and as such I was bleeding merely profusely as I awoke to discover myself in a jail cell at the back of the local constabulary. “Sir?”, came a sweet and familiar voice, “Sir, are you alright? They said that you needed to ‘sleep it off’ when they threw you in here, a performance which I must admit I thoroughly enjoyed.” Leaning over me was the sweet elfin face of Margaret Pomeranz, and to make matters better, it was attached to her body. I wrapped her in a bear hug that I kept in my pocket. “Margaret, dear,” I sputtered, “What happened?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She span to me a tale of mystery and intrigue so thick and tangled that it began to pool around my feet and spill out into the hall. I struggled to stay afloat as she spoke of conspiracies and plotting at the highest level, and as the tale reached the roof, the walls of our cell could take no more. They buckled and heaved, spattering bricks everywhere and propelling us outwards of the cell into the back alley in a wash of plot, colour and sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Margaret a hand to steady herself as she got to her feet, shaking and soaked in conspiracy theory. She looked at my detached hand uncertainly and put it into her pocket for safekeeping. “I’m glad you’re okay, Margaret,” I said, “and I must admit that I came into your story expecting better things. It started off with a splash of colour and action, but it readily became apparent that the director’s formulaic approach to the stock-standard ‘movie-critic-gets-kidnapped-and-framed-by-OFLC-who-are-secretly-controlled-by-Night-Elves-from-Warcraft-III-because-they-think-you-look-too-much-like-an-elf-even-though-this-fact-was-never-made-apparent-during-the-story’ plot line had steered a potentially entertaining movie into a dull piece of cinema that entirely lacked interest. I was very disappointed, and I’m going to have to give it one-and-a-half stars. Tell David he can waive my usual fee.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked away, Margaret snuck up behind me and beamed me with a wall. I didn’t feel a thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115738188953306189?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115738188953306189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115738188953306189' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115738188953306189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115738188953306189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/09/tim-blogs-for-me-today.html' title='Tim blogs for me today'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115449702165192262</id><published>2006-08-01T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T04:40:32.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm back at uni. There's this Macfest thing going on for the first week back. Bands and stuff. Upon first glance: pretty crap, but I have discovered why there are so few stalls. A man trying to recruit people for paintball (the overrated sport of pent-up aggressives, psychos and our proud army) explained that a stall for non-union corporations like his would cost in the area of $800. That's per day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm not complaining, I got free doughnuts. I bite into it and turn immediately saying "Holy crap, you guys have to have one, these are the best things ever". And the doughnut girl gives me this knowing, "good, another one converted" look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Macquarie has a course called &lt;i&gt;Japanese Manga and Personal Identity&lt;/i&gt;. Eat your hearts out all the anime freaks* I know. If only I could work out what the appeal of manga is. Then I'd be set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*It's a term of endearment, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Jess and I went shopping. I'm very glad she came. I hate shopping. I hate it. No man enjoys shopping. Any who says he does is mistaken, a liar or has that condition with the extra female chromosome- that I can't spell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whilst there we saw &lt;i&gt;Hoodwinked&lt;/i&gt;. Yeah, I'd never heard of it either. But it was a $6 ticket and went to charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a digitally animated comedy for kids. Good portions of it were intensely unfunny, only made worse by the fact the girls next to us (not kids either) laughed at anything, including when THE TITLE OF THE FILM APPEARED. Not to mention the man of about 30 yrs in front of us who cacked himself at the flat pop culture jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I will decide what's funny and what's not. Anyway, if you do go to the movies and &lt;i&gt;Superman&lt;/i&gt; isn't showing, you probably won't regret seeing it. Look out for the goat. Oh man I love that goat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday I roadtripped to the Blue Mountains for a picnic. So that was pretty awesome. And awesomely pretty, in fact. It took a lot of organisation on Jacqui's part, which we appreciate. And thanks to Emma too for getting up so early to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically what I'm saying is forget the "ExplorerLink" or whatever the crap CityRail is trying to pitch at you. Because that's ridiculous. By car all you have to pay is petrol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's plenty more to say but Glass House is on momementarily. So I'm going to press Publish now, ok? Ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115449702165192262?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115449702165192262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115449702165192262' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115449702165192262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115449702165192262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/08/so-im-back-at-uni.html' title=''/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115323712565158296</id><published>2006-07-18T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T05:21:15.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This was supposed to be posted yesterday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ok, who wants to be linked to? I'm going to put back all the people I had on the last journal, and more! But if you have a blog and I don't know, shout at me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, what an awesome day it's been. These holidays have been pretty superb as far as social events go. My throat is sore, I've been singing all day. There was karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;a href="http://pandora.com"&gt;Pandora&lt;/a&gt; just keeps being awesomely random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Heliopolis by Night&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;One thing I was sleeping, then I was taken high &lt;br /&gt;Through the veil of darkness that is stretched across the sky &lt;br /&gt;And though I could see nothing I heard a voice say this- &lt;br /&gt;"Enter flight co-ordinates for Heliopolis" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful, unusual sight, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;Bathed in golden shimmering light, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sailed beyond the first hour to the place they called their home &lt;br /&gt;Words could not describe to you the things that I was shown &lt;br /&gt;And though I was so far away not one thing did I miss &lt;br /&gt;Safe among my friends in golden Heliopolis &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful, unusual sight, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;Bathed in golden shimmering light, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful, unusual sight, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;Everything will be alright, Heliopolis by night &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the reason why they took me was something I never learned &lt;br /&gt;But my body lay there sleeping when I finally returned &lt;br /&gt;The lover who I left behind awoke me with a kiss &lt;br /&gt;And asked where I had been-I answered "Heliopolis"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen invited me to this DVD/games night thing the other day. I've been looking for one of those stupid quizzes just to answer that question they always have: "When was the last time you laughed so hard you thought you might puke"... or something along those lines.... I dunno. Point is, the search came to no avail, so I'm just going say: that was some funny crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big ups for awesome uni people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure what that means!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it seems that as time has passed my bedroom has become nerd headquarters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7643/2398/1600/magiccards.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7643/2398/320/magiccards.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That should not be there. Those are cards. They belong in a card game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also! I've decided my long hair's number is up! That number being, like, 3 on the buzzing-hair-cut-thingie. Mhmm. As I don't plan to cultivate flowing-lockiness again for many a year, I think I need photos of it. By some undefined hair-cut point next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen Pirates2, it's awesome. I'm not feeling critic mode. So I'll just say it was more farsical. More humour but less... point. Captain Jack has more screentime and steals the show again but I was wary of his new morals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, uni results are out! No, I haven't checked! Because, I just don't feel like it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's do things soon, everyone. Holidays are over after next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's some MYRIAD shit, right there. Nothing uncommentable. We're going for more than zero this time around!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115323712565158296?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115323712565158296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115323712565158296' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115323712565158296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115323712565158296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/07/this-was-supposed-to-be-posted.html' title='This was supposed to be posted yesterday.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-115254502044736608</id><published>2006-07-10T04:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T09:00:31.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think of an acronym, it can't express it</title><content type='html'>Yep. Well, what can I say? Not blog entries apparently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here we go again! Those who have subscribed with RSS will get a little surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there've been ups. There've been downs. Life's a rollercoaster and all that shite. I'm not going to rehash, but I will note the worst of it here: My dog, possibly the best animal in the world, passed away last monday. May she rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we'll pick up from this weekend. Well, in the wee hours of saturday I was still in the city because Kath had brought me along to see her friend's band play. The band we came to see weren't bad, but I was really impressed by the first band of the night. In my previous journal (defunct) I spoke about the Hungarian suicide song which was translated to become &lt;i&gt;Gloomy Sunday&lt;/i&gt;, a slow, melodic song every eerie-voiced songstress worth her salt has sung. They did a punk version! OMG! Acronyms cannot express my delight! So cool! Well I was probly the only one who thought so. But you know me. Or alternatively, you didn't know me and now you're sort of getting the hang of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, just cos you're punk-verging-on-emo doesn't make you unawesome. Far from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that amused me. When we arrived I surveyed the room, as you do if you don't want to: get lost, meet people you know (too slow on that front, chick from my Italian class turns out to be there) or generally get hit by flying objects. And there was a really lost looking bloke wandering around, he looked so out of place and anxious to either meet someone he knows or just bolt. Turns out he was the lead singer of one of the bands. You just don't know. You just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupidest story ever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma was here yesterday. We were plotting and scheming. Ideas for future D&amp;D campaigns. Wicked ideas. Mwahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we ate a lot of pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh. So, Jess (living it up in Perth; no Jess and no Chris make Tom something something) leant me a whole bunch of RPG's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Temple of Elemental Evil&lt;/i&gt; is like a drug. I can't stop playing it. (This isn't to say drugs are a game. Drugs are still bad. But RPG's are so good.) Though it can never live up to &lt;i&gt;Baldur's Gate&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;SpellForce&lt;/i&gt; looked promising. Until recruiting workers involved putting a "Worker Rune" into a monument and waiting for one to be summoned. Give some dude a pickaxe for godsake- and voila. And don't get me started on "Aria", the glowing liquid to be harvested (in conjuction with an appropriate rune) to recruit a priest. DELETED! On the plus side, epic opening movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sacred&lt;/i&gt; was similarly promising. There are some games where I just step back and go "hm. This is really well programmed." This is one of those games. It's a pity it's a complete knock-off of &lt;i&gt;Diablo&lt;/i&gt;. At least &lt;i&gt;Diablo&lt;/i&gt; was compelling. If you're going to do a knock-off, you've got to make it MORE, not A GREAT DEAL LESS, interesting. ...But in this one you can ride a horse! So, I might come back to it. Oh, I assume you eventually start fighting demons, but at the beginning you're defending yourself from theives. Which quickly becomes the mass slaughter of theives. It's a nice touch how you can CHOP THEIR LIMBS OFF and watch blood spray forth, puddling around their corpse. WHAT IS THAT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've yet to try &lt;i&gt;Bard's Tale&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;i&gt;Arcanum&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news. If you like Fall Out Boy or hate Fall Out Boy or generally like arbitrary things go &lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4068767512452275304&amp;q=fallout+boy"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. There seems to be a serial number in that link so it might not work after a while. Who knows. (Thanks to Lucy for pointing my browser at this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, I remember journalling now. Yikes. Just out of curiosity, is "pointlesser" a word?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-115254502044736608?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/115254502044736608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=115254502044736608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115254502044736608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/115254502044736608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/07/think-of-acronym-it-cant-express-it.html' title='Think of an acronym, it can&apos;t express it'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-114788030519057585</id><published>2006-05-17T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T08:38:25.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entree</title><content type='html'>Ha ha ha. Yeeeeeah. Been a bit busy, ya see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just letting you know I am alive and well and there are real updates to come! Soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meantime- the meme that Jess, Greg and I built:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pineapple (T/F)?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you're really asking 2 questions there, but True to both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your opinion on emos?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I judge that on an emo by emo basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the word "emos"?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suitably degrading yet strange enough to confound the elderly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;How many emos does it take to screw in a light bulb?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two. One to change it, one to contemplate bleeding from bulb shards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why are we picking on emos?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Style of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favourite Magic card (if you don't like Magic, make something up)?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Giant Tortoise&lt;/I&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Favorite US county and why?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mordor. That's one, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you were to design a new emoticon, what would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad face. Really sad face. A little ASCII visage of such despair, upon seeing it you will never be the same again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;If you were to design an internet quiz, what would your next question be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Which way to the restroom, sir or madam?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wordy, word?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make a good point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Was it as good for you as it was for me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not over yet, my friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who do you think will do this quiz?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brave or the stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you a start menu at the top or start menu at the bottom type of person?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has to be at the bottom. Things start at the bottom. It's the natural order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is you favorite Trap door character?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best damn talking skull there is, &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/nowtranquil/BoniandDrutt.jpg"&gt;Boni&lt;/a&gt;. (Correct spelling according to the internets). Hamlet might not have gone on that insane rampage if he had this guy around instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;So what music player do you use?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FooBar! It's so nifty. Hamlet might not have gone on that insane rampage if he had this player for his Dido instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yes?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unquestionably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;At what point of the nursery rhyme "Over the Hills and Far Away" (the one about ducks) do you get fed up?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 3 ducks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who do you think wrote this question?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know who wrote this question! I can't tell you! That would undermine the integrity of this very professional meme we have here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Provide a paragraph describing the ugliest thing you can see.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be the newspaper that I've left open on my desk. It's a story I have no interest in reading about an author who uses his next book to defame his exwife or some malarchy. As if the text wasn't ugly enough, the big close up on his face ain't gonna win any photography awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What time is it according to the clock that is least accurate in your current location?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.18am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;What other websites do you have open (do not censor)? If you don't have any others open, what was the last site you visited?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yahoo, deviantArt, SEEK, "Boni Trapdoor - Google Image Search", WotC Forum, Hotmail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vegemite or Monkey Paste?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vegemite. It tastes great. Well, no, that's a lie. But I like eating it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Boom or Bust?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOOOOOM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stop or Reset?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop. Right now. Thankyouverymuch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Inclusive or Exclusive?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exclusive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bicubic Interpolation or Cygwin Ports?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can you believe its not butter?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! And I have the bicubic interpolations to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you trapped?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do you need assistance?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Google or Yahoooooooo!?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who is your favourite Teen Girl (of the Teen Girl Squad)?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats-her-face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Did you just Google the last question? Coz I think you did.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were wrong. You're losing your touch!&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-114788030519057585?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/114788030519057585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=114788030519057585' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114788030519057585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114788030519057585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/05/entree.html' title='Entree'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-114555117988667817</id><published>2006-04-20T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T08:22:34.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain of flames isn't an easy thing.</title><content type='html'>So there's this horrible, horrible invention on the Blogger mainpage that scrolls through random links to all the people updating their blogs. And I have had no choice but to open every one of them until the stability of my broswer was put in jeapardy. Following random links is great. Don't -quite- remember how I got &lt;a href="http://www.fishraider.com.au/Invision/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I've been doing with my afternoon. You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my assignments previously due this saturday was set back 24 hours. And for some reason this has flicked the "oh well, won't start for 24 more hours" switch in my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;b&gt;doomed&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm blogging again in earnest... I think. Do not be surprised if I give it a miss every other fortnight. Let the madness BEGIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really just want to do some of those quizzes, now that my previous versions thereof have been eradicated. For today, we'll be revisiting what FooBar2000 thinks of me. Given playlist changes, maybe there's been some re-evaluation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt anything will beat Jess's: "What's my favourite fetish? Dead Gardens - Nightwish" though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;What do you think of me, FooBar?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Rain of a Thousand Flames&lt;/I&gt; - Rhapsody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. Well. I'm bringing the apocalypse. You bring the chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Will I have a happy life?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Sweet Surrender&lt;/I&gt; - Sarah McLachlan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you mean I give up and then everything turns out alright? That's... melancholy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;What do my friends really think of me?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Rapid Hope Loss&lt;/I&gt; - Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH. DEAR. Guys! Don't give up on me just yet! Things aren't going well so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Do people secretly lust after me?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Get Gotten&lt;/I&gt; - Ben Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Hear that, stalkers? Now's your chance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;How can I make myself happy?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Such Great Heights&lt;/I&gt; - Iron and Wine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great amounts of iron and wine. Check. That must be the ultimate diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;What should I do with my life?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Trying to Impress the Bargirl&lt;/I&gt; - Tripod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha! Spend my time being a sleazy, flirting drunk then? Check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Why must life be so full of pain?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Apocalypse Please&lt;/I&gt; - Muse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I'm working on it. Rain of flames isn't an easy thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Sexy&lt;/I&gt; - Black Eyed Peas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be a smartarse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Will I ever have children?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Lothlorien&lt;/I&gt; - Nightwish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, elven children? Or maybe... eleven children?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Will I die happy?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Elsewhere&lt;/I&gt; - Sarah McLachlan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well that's a given. Worst. suburbs. ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Can you give me some advice?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;The White Tree&lt;/I&gt; - London Oratory School Scholars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, once again, your wisdom is too cryptic. Better advice? &lt;I&gt;Winding Road&lt;/I&gt; - Bonnie Somerville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're absolutely right. Take it as it comes, you can't see far ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;What do you think happiness is?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Touched&lt;/I&gt; - Vast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you dirty thang. And not just touched. But VASTLY touched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;What's my favourite fetish?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;I&gt;Buskers&lt;/I&gt; - Tripod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. I don't think so. They're generally smelly and obnoxious. But maybe I just don't frequent the Harbour on the right days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just read an article on SMH where people again complain about how they're teaching English, calling for the PM to stop the "post-modern rubbish" and bring back some Shakespeare. Guess what? Students are sick to death of Shakespeare. The Bard pokes his stupid, pencil-sketched head up every year. And while the debate rages on, let me tell you: Shakespeare is simply not as relevant as it could be. If anything, we have to prune the Shakepeare components. And embrace the marvellous post-modern nonsense. But anyways, what a dumb issue. Someone get the activists to focus on sperlling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of post-modern nonsense with reduced Shakepeare components (by which I mean- that whole paragraph was just a segue), I saw &lt;i&gt;She's the Man&lt;/i&gt; with my sister the other day. I love Amanda Bynes. People say Jim Carrey and Steve Martin have got good facial expressions. They got nuthin. All this, and I enjoy &lt;i&gt;Twelfth Night&lt;/i&gt;, it's one of the funniest plays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So together these facts make it a wholly enjoyable movie. Well, when I say wholly, the denouement after typical football-stadium plot-revelation is pretty much a downhill slide. But up until then I laughed so loudly that I threatened the inconspicuousness that my sister held paramount at seeing said movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 outta 5 fake sideburns. Stop taking yourself so seriously, SEE IT ALREADY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who can suggest a good movie to see next cheapo tuesday? &lt;b&gt;Noting&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Ice Age [1]&lt;/i&gt; was not even a good CHILDREN's movie and &lt;i&gt;V for Vendetta&lt;/i&gt; doesn't pique my interest at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-114555117988667817?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/114555117988667817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=114555117988667817' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114555117988667817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114555117988667817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/04/rain-of-flames-isnt-easy-thing.html' title='Rain of flames isn&apos;t an easy thing.'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23407176.post-114147612667249255</id><published>2006-03-04T04:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T04:43:32.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New blog, same great taste</title><content type='html'>Fear me, Internet! For I am back amongst you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all knew I couldn't stay away for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't have 'tranquilised' apparently. And neither can anyone else. Even me pretending to be someone else. So 'ifnotmoreso' was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the... unpleasantness... at DX, I figure my blogging may as well be omnipresent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a tragedy. I only had random snippets of insanity, and I'M sad about it. Some people's LIVES were in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the things I've done since my last DX post. Unfortunately I'm not going to report these things. I'm throwing them to the winds. 24 hours will be the cut-off for retrospectivity in this blog, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But get me to tell you about the guy in the train when I see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23407176-114147612667249255?l=ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/feeds/114147612667249255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23407176&amp;postID=114147612667249255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114147612667249255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23407176/posts/default/114147612667249255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ifnotmoreso.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-blog-same-great-taste.html' title='New blog, same great taste'/><author><name>Tom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08119433363265950470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
