Gore-Grind/Gore-Core/Brutal Death Metal Analysis

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Things that aren't Glee

Glee sucks balls because: It deals with teenage problems that no-one gives a shite about in the real world, never mind for entertainment purposes. It plays covers of pop songs and plays them over miming wankers.
I did endure a full 10-15mins of this just to comment on your views Shame-ass!

Now, for some things that sound like Glee, but are not.

Me. Wonderful. Need I elaborate?

Brie. A type of cheese that equals Glee in taste(or lack thereof).

Bree. A death metal scream that mimics the sound of a pig being slaughtered. Very tasty. Pork friendly, anti-Semitic and most of all, good over some blast beats. Reference "Waking The Cadaver" for an idea of bree. It's the type of thing to be done when you run out of lyrics, or simply don't want to use them. More musical value than that well structured high octave conditioned voice that you might hear otherwise in pop.
Drink some whiskey and fuck off.

Gee. Another delicacy. A type of steak and fish, situated roughly between a woman tits and her thighs.

Pee. Primarily used for spelling your name in snow, making the soil acidic levels rise and expressing your sexual preferences to a horse.

Wii. A game console that requires effort. This does not go down well with your common fat dweeb.

Tree. Where money grows.

E. A drug made from MDMA, rat poison and whatever else is under the sink of your local dealers house.

Degree. Something you'll never obtain if you take me seriously.

Knee. A small version of your elbow, often found in your disagreeing face.

Disagree. Something you don't do when I'm talking.

Plea. I hear it everyday. Because I can do everything.

Banshee. Can be found with a tub of ice-cream and saggy breasts complaining about men.

Debris. Always seems to fall from planes over Iraq BY ACCIDENT.

CD. Better than a VHS cassette, worse than a Frisbee.

Bee. Don't hit their hives with a stick. That's fucking stupid.

Guarantee. I never said this blog would be good.

Hurt me, I'm an attention whore.

So I haven't posted in a while. Blow me.
You haven't read my posts. Why not? I'm so good. My total of 5 people who read these shall be thanked by me when hell freezes over. You should be thanking me for enlightening you. I wont justify my absence, think as you will.

Believe it or not, I do have better things to pretend to be doing. Keep in mind of my laziness, I use the spite of Callous & Seabird to drive me(and to steal their ideas). Mr. Callous has reminded me that I too must establish a rota with myself. Which I will disregard.
I will make posts as often as I exercised in the past few months. I'll let you figure out that one.

So much for a new post! You just talked about it. Didn't even make an effort. Now watch this.

Sock, shoes, laces, soles, shoe box. You know that silica desiccant you get from new shoes? Or things of the like. Looks like a packet of sugar. Terrible substitute. Unless you're making a cuppa tea for someone that isn't you. Definitely a good idea. Unlike starting a blog without a clue and relying on your sub-conscious for creative ability.

Sorry for the horribly frequent/inconsistent paragraphs. No. I think I've already said this. If not, Deja Vú. Deja Vú is a funny thing. You might often get that if you watch Family Guy. Either that, or you finally realise that they recycle everything that was slightly humourous in it many times before "Friends" had even got to it.
"Oh no Joey, you've said something irrelevant to distract us from the fact that there was a serious moment for far too long (possibly past the standard users attention span) and now you have a turkey on your head!"
"Ah Chandler, are you saying another terrible penguin bar-esque joke/pun which we frown on so we can look like our sense of humour isn't equally stupid?"
Of course you are, you filth ridden, self ridiculing prick! If this series wasn't the only option for a desperate pubescent male to have a wank in the afternoon over something that resembles a female when tennis isn't on, then it wouldn't have left the studio. At least the series is over and we have nothing to worry about anymo....Desperate Housewives.

Oh dear. I haven't watched enough of it to have adequate material to collectively drop-kick all the producers of it with my neck of insults. You don't believe I can drop-kick a group of people at once with my neck? Foolish.
Although, I do know enough to cover the basics. They're not very desperate, are they? Are they horrible people? Yes. The ginger has a large forehead and is the least attractive one, next to the blonde who mopes the whole time. Given that they're so old, I'm not sure why that conversation comes up so often. Madonna and Uma Thermin don't get that kind of reception.

As a reader of my blogs, you also get homework.

Homework: Fuck off.

And don't forget. I'm great.

Anti-Social Networking

Socializing has never been as anti-social as it is now.
You don't even have to look at someone, or acknowledge their presence to have a conversation anymore. You can tell them that you're busy when you're quite the opposite. Sitting idle thinking of ways to make people think that you're not wasting your life online. Read a wiki page once a day.

"That day wasn't wasted. I learned something."

Valuable as it was, you could have actually met some people in person and given awkward conversation.
There's no Busy or Away status in the real world. No Block button. You have to face real problems other than a loading screen or someone who's just after "prawning your noob ass".

But, why face problems? Why not stay behind the username and the collection of swords in a fantasy world?
The idea of these games are an escape. But there's no escapism if you're always there.

Maybe it's time to escape from the digital world for once?

Go outside, get cold, get fresh air, human interaction. Real experiences.

Computers generate artificial feelings. But.
Maybe.

Are the simulations better than real life?

You can talk so honestly online 'cause you can't get an immediate smack or be seen blushing.
Easy. But. Unless you can break away, you're stuck. Like a cat in a washing machine.

You can keep clean but Whiskers wont be snuggling up to you when he gurgles up washing detergent on your floor and collapses.

Short story shorter.... We're all lazy scum.

Computers were designed to help our lives, now they are our lives.
Is this what we want?

Alter Ego

As far as I know, everyone has another persona. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
If you've ever been bored and then chosen not to be, it's a good technique.

I've created an alternate persona for myself, who is lazier and more useless than me.
Not like the typical favourable fantasy personality similar to Edward Norton/Brad Pitt in "Fight Club". Oh no. The only use my alt-ego serves is to feed me information based on what I already know.
Now I'm gonna mess with phrasing and alternate between each persona.
If I say something stupid, it wasn't me, it was him.

Example:
"Hey Conor"
"Hey you"
"So I'm a "you" now?! Why do you get to be Conor?"
"Because I'm actually Conor, you're just a figment of my imagination.
"Maybe you're a figment of mine?"

*Long conversation about reality, ensuring that I'm not sleeping for a long time.*


"Why do you have bags under your eyes?"
Wankers. I hate that question.
Why don't you have bags under your eyes?! At least I talk to myself. You're just ignorant.

I love making paragraphs.

Oh yeah, Personality.
I could probably drain this one, and leak a bit into it to add a bit more life, but it's not like you'd notice anyways. I Would.
No you wouldn't.

I'll throw out a question to the few who may read these. As more people read, I'll write more.
~Do you question yourself? Do you talk to yourself? and such, if so, how?

Malice and Gee-nerd

http://callousandseabird.blogspot.com/2010/01/tis-season-of-reduced-friction.html

As a direct result of Cian Touhy, I have set myself out to pwn his ass in blog form.

As this is my opening blog, it will be terrible. As will all the others. Anyone who chooses to read them has begun reading their own obituary.

It is snowing. I have established that it is also cold. Who doesn't like a snowball fight? Social recluses! That's who! Patrick Kavanagh would cringe at the thought, despite his love of nature.
I for one am appalled by the snow. The snow prevents all those plants growing.
Ironically, the snowdrops haven't started growing as a result of....you know.
I'm blaming Cian.

Dear Clouds,
Have your snow and be gone.
-Your eternal enemy.

I like to be quick and punchy like the poetic thief who not only robs your wallet, but also your soul.
Next blog will have longer paragraphs, I promise. I promise not to break that promise also.
Maybe.

I might start the next blog in a minute. Bear with me.