Christmas Shopping

On the twentieth day of Decembermas...

Christmas shopping done! Yay. :3

And it only cost me like 80 bucks.

EDIT 12/24/09: Never mind. Now it's done.

On the Nineteenth Day of Decembermas

On the nineteenth day of Decembermas...

...I'm already bored. Huzzah...

Corporations Rejoice!

On the eighteenth day of Decembermas...

Man, this holiday's getting expensive. And shopping for presents is difficult. D:

Oh well. At least one good thing came out of it... SCHOOL'S OUT!

Well, there's that, and I freeloaded quite a bit. I have like half a gift-bag-thing of holiday candy, from various sources, of course. :3

The Grammar God Hates English?

On the seventeenth day of Decembermas...

You'd think that I'd be satisfied with my top 6 marks but... I'm not. Oh God, I feel so Asian.

Well anyway, here they are: 87, 88, 99, 93, 90, 77~83.

I don't even know that last mark, which is the only important one: English. Man, I hate English. T.T

Isn't it great? That range is the difference between 89% and 90% average, which just happens to be the difference between moderate and high chances of getting into the university I want to go to. ;_;

...Man, I hate English. T.T'

He's Locked Inside His Huge Closet

On the sixteenth day of Decembermas...

Findley sucks. Lololololol.

Timothy Findley's The Wars is possibly the worst book I've ever read. To make matters worse, my English teacher made us learn about the author himself.

(*serious face*) Timothy Findley was a strange little boy. He then started to be emo because he didn't have any friends that were guys. Then he started riding a bicycle and pretended to be a chick on a horse.
By the time he was seventeen, his parents were wondering why his writing was so homosexual. He simply dismissed their worries and proceeded to go to his ballet lesson.
His high school teacher told him that he failed at life and should drop out of school. Then he did. Findley started writing. No one cared. Then Americans cared. Then Canadians gave it a shot and apparently, people liked reading about homosexual gangbangs. Then he fell in love with his male roommate. The end.

And yet, she argues that Robert, the main character in the book, is not a homosexual, regardless of how he didn't tap that ho in Crabstown, or how he pissed on a cloth and shoved it at a guy's face, or how he got gangbanged by a bunch of guys, or how he fell in love with his male friend Harris, or how his random untapped female friend explicitly tells the reader that he was in love with Harris.

You can probably tell that I really hate this book. >:/

I have nothing against homosexuality but if I have to read about explicit homosexual gangbang scenes...eugh. ó_ò

Pissed at World War I

On the fifteenth day of Decembermas...

Literally. He pissed during World War I to save himself from the chlorine gas. I am, of course, talking about Robert Ross from The Wars. It's a pretty messed up book by a pretty messed up author, which I'll talk about later.

But for now, I'd like to share with you the epic chlorine gas scene from the book:

(Bates) looked at Robert and shrugged. He nodded at the men. Then he knelt and began to fumble with his flies. He was quite convinced that Robert had lost his reason--but you have to obey a man with a gun--mad or sane. Here was the terror. Bates was so afraid that he collapsed backward and sat like a child in the sand and dug in his underwear for his penis. It had shrunk with fear.
...till Robert shouted at him: "Damn you! Damn you! Give it to me!"

The Wars (137-138)

Sadly, only the last line is nasty out of context. The rest of it is nasty IN context. It means exactly what you think it means.

That's right. A totally serious chlorine gas scene, and he decides to talk about the guy's dick shrivelling. Great. Just...great.

Ew, Monday :x

On the fourteenth day of Decembermas...

Oh God I hate Mondays. T_T

I think I failed an economics test today... It's a good thing I have eight courses! I can fail two all I want. :)