Miscellaneous

The world is fraught with anxiety and pain. In other words, I have heard some very distressing news recently, and now have to bitch. A much loved cartoon character, or rather, the voice over for that cartoon character is in MORTAL peril. No, this is not an exaggeration. The poor dude seriously. He's battling two forms of cancer. TWO! As if there's not enough suffering in this world. Geez. No wonder people are Emo at times. WHY? I feel like falling on the floor and gnashing my teeth while slamming a clenched fist against the ground repeatedly. Ok, no I don't. There are only two kinds of people who gnash their teeth. These are:
1. The Insane
2. The people from those really old books.

I will now bore the hell out of you by writing a poem, because as you very well know, poems are emotional outlets. I'm JOKING. Sheesh. People nowadays wouldn't know a joke if it bit them in the ass. Speaking of things that bite you in the ass, Lousy Reviewer karma has befallen and me and as such I have nothing to write about. Except for ass biting things. Such as jokes...and karma, and possibly tigers although I'm pretty sure they aim for the jugular. Unless they are behind you. Then the might have to settle for the ass.

BLAH.

That's all for now folks.

...

You know as a blogger with nothing else to do besides sit in front of this computer typing madly, I feel I've been burdened with too many problems, which is why I have to get something off my heavily burdened chest.
I super duper duper hate it, when people use those freaking full stops...Like so.
I mean seriously. Its like, whenever people are pissed with you they'll end their sentences with these annoying little dots.
Here for example, is a conversation, I had with say...um...(I was going to type the name Bob backwards but then I realized that dagnabbit, Bob backwards is STILL Bob) so...mm...Ravi.

Emo Bitch says:
Howdy partner

Ravi:
Hello

Emo Bitch says:
OMG! I just remembered!

Ravi says:
Aprently so...

Emo Bitch says:
Happy Birthday!

Ravi says:
Thanks...

You see?! Those stupid little full stops that are supposed to signify "I am angry with you. Which is why I will add in these three little full stops because you have deeply wounded my feelings and as such, I will now add these full stops in so you know that I am, not only totally PISSED with you, I am also pretending to care very little about anything you have to say."

Right. So you're pissed off with that person, why add in those stupid dots? Why not, I dunno, say BRB and never return, change your status to Busy. ANYTHING. Don't give me those damn dots. They don't make any sense. Plus, they just show the person you're talking to that you're putting MORE effort into those instant messages your sending out because, when you would usually just type 'yeah', now you're typing 'yeah...'

And don't even get me started on those people who-nevermind I've already started, those people who actually say "Dot, dot, dot," and start pointing at the air. I feel like yelling "Stoppit, you look like a freak! What the hell is wrong with you?" But of course, me being me, I'll just give this pained smile and say. "Hahaha...haha...ha..."

Grr...

Wow. I feel so LIBERATED!

Next up: How the Emo Bitch feels about Hacks sweets and why they should be banned.

Surprise!

Hello peeps. You know a blog is a place where you express your hopes and dreams and fears and such and such. Which is why it should be SHARED. That's why today, a close friend of mine will be guest posting!
Presenting, the one, the only, Emo Ticon with her post on how toast will effect today's society, how it will help the famine stricken parts of Venezuela, and how it will put on our country's economy on rebound!

Toast.

I like toast.

Toast is the only thing that enlivens me. I am toast and the toast is me. In these dark days where the fetid miasma of my worry is blackened and browned and sometimes greened (but only on Tuesdays when they have Teletubby re-runs on AXN at 3:24 in the morning) and very occasionally pinked like, you know, salmon and stuff, yes, in these dark days our love is the single shining hope in the decayed ruins of nobility, the saviour of aristocracy, the young soldier against adversity.

I like toast.

Also I hate my life.

My life is stupid.

Ferrets are tasty.

Yes.

My mother tells me I am not healthy; my friends tell me I am mad; my boss tells me I need to seek psychiatric help; my cabbie tells me not to drink in his taxi or you get out of the car right now, you hear me, you get out of my taxi right now I tell you. And I think it is very unfair of him, very unfair indeed, but I throw my Coke bottle out of the window and the impending sorrow of perhaps striking a hobo on the forehead so defeats me I must sit, recline, quiet my disturbed thought matrix.

I am misunderstood. I am sorrow. I am death.

Toast brings me to life. In my spare time I watch toast. My toast is my friend. It makes me happy. It brings a dark smile to my gloom. Sometimes we play chess together, and often we ice-skate. People despise us. But we are nothing to them, pitiful nothing, dark nothings, nothings that boil and seethe with unending rage and fury and blighted malice.

The sorrow in my madness. The fly in my ointment. The pig in my bathroom. That is toast. That is the meaning of a butterfly’s wing. That is why we pay taxes. That is why you are a dork and can’t get laid.

This is life, and this is toast.

Gardenia. My one true love. In the rain. Yes. In the rain. Yes. Ha. Ha. Hahaha. Yes. Toast. TOAST. TOAST.

Guest post by the author Emo Ticon, now temporarily discontinued.

WELL! Educational and interesting. A double whammy! For more information on the life of toast, please visit:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toast

Meanderings...

Everyone seems to think that because I go by the name Emo Bitch, I really am the emo-est thing you're ever going to find, which can be frustrating especially when I did say that I'm not a real emo. But complaints aside, I've decided to live up to my uber emo reputation and do as an Emo would do, and write you a poem.

The taste of blood is almost mawkish,
It is food for my subconcious,
Nevertheless, it engulfes my soul in shades of mazarine,
Coating it with the paint brush of pain.

A monstrous creature claws at my soul,
Pulling it down; it won't let go,
My spirits have fallen; my heart is weak,
But I cannot defeat it; it is blood that I seek.

But when it is read, who will understand?
Will anybody try? Even if they can?
I draw my scabbard; I lift it high,
Be strong, weak heart; the end is nigh.

Defecation of Dreams

WOW! Doesn't that sound profound? My dreams have been defecated! Yes, that's right. The world has passed motion. And that motion is my dreams.

Argh. I can't do it. Which insane person told me to blog about something random?
*cough* Jo *cough*

All I can think about is that hour of pain I'm going to endure at the end of the day, which totally cuts into my evening sitcoms marathon. I wonder if she realizes I'm going to be missing The Simpsons and According to Jim (which I don't really like cause it's too cutesy and all they do is make fun of Cheryl's brother and I really feel like whacking Cheryl's sister over the head with a baseball bat, if I had a baseball bat, which I don't-yet)

But I digress-actually, no I don't. I never had a specific topic in the first place. La la la. Hey you know what's really funny? Listening to the Audio Preview on youtube. It sounds like Stephen Hawking. Or not. I mean that whole machine isn't really Stephen Hawking's voice, is it? Whose voice is it? Philip...something?

If you know leave a comment on the Cbox or something.

Bye-no wait, be cool.

L8r.

Blogs

You see the thing about having a blog is, you can rage and complain as much as you like and you don't end up annoying people.

You know why?

Cause they don't have to listen to you. If they get irritated; if they think your whiny and immature, all they have to do is click that little red X at the corner of the page. Strange isn't it, how some people intentionally read a blog that annoys them so they can clutter it up with stupid comments? I'm not referring to any particular person, so please, don't get any ideas. I've just seen it happen.

In other blogs. Not mine. Other blogs.

Nobody is forced to read a blog. The URL is there, its been supplied. They make a choice. I have never, and I doubt any other blogger has, held somebody and gunpoint and said:
"Read my blog or I'll blast your head off!"

It doesn't happen and I doubt it ever will. So please, don't act like reading a blog is something you absolutely have to do. As if, if you don't...
a. your dog will die
b. your body will be consumed by carnivorous ants (think Indiana Jones)
c. a clown will murder your parents.

Don't hang around, if its that bad, go clear out your inbox or something.

If it hurts you so much don't read it.

-Nobody is forcing you to.

ARGH!

I can't go to that stupid place, ok? I will absolutely DIE, so please don't do this to me! Why? Why would you inflict this torture upon me? When I'd rather, as someone put it, gargle with rusty nails! I've done it twice! TWICE! I survived (just barely), but came out emotionally scarred. That's right, I'm scarred. Because of you. You. Scarred. Me.

Happy?

What do I have to do to impress upon you the SERIOUSNESS of this situation? Do you know what its like to sit here fighting the urge to press caps lock key? Do you? DO YOU? You see? Argh. I cannot believe you are putting me through this. What have I done to deserve this?

WHAT?

There is only one word to describe this whole situation:
Lunacy.

TAGGED!

OMFG! Guess what? I, the Emo Bitch, have been TAGGED! Well no, not really, more like mentioned. I feel so honoured. Argh. I'm gushing. . ANYWAY.But you see here folks, question number one is:

List down 10 people

I don't know ten people! I'll just tag Siao Lin and make up my own questions.

1. If I were to die, would you attend my funeral? Would you stay until the whole thing is over?
2. If David Cook were to die on the same day as me, and you received invites from both our families, whose would you choose?
3. Who do you like more, me or David Cook?
4. If David Archuletta(??) is Archie, is David Cook, cookie? Isn't that funny? Are you laughing?
5. Can you tell the diffrence between Pepsi and Coke? I can't.

Stupid c-box

I know we're not supposed to go around blatantly promoting our blogs. I know that if you do that on Youtube you get marked as spam. I know that people call it 'blog-whoring'. But if you think about it, I wasn't exactly promoting my blog. I was just suggesting they read it. So I, dropped a little comment on this very popular blogger's c-box suggesting they read my blog when suddenly I received comments like "Can you stop advertising so blatantly, k thanks!" or "Yeah, blog whoring."

So just so you know, unknown C-box people, I wasn't ADVERTISING, I was SUGGESTING. The diffrence is slight but I believe meaningful. So why don't you get your facts before you accuse me of ADVERTISING.

OK?
Thanks.

But seriously folks, if you could just like drop the URL of my blog at some other popular websites like I don't know, Malaysia Today, Malaysiakini.
E.g.
For more political updates, please go to:
http://www.myblackholeofpain.blogspot.com

You see how easy it is? You could even do it at Barbie.com, neopets, anything!

E.g.
Barbie and Ken sure do look great together don't they? Wanna see more pics? Head on over to:
http://www.myblackholeofpain.blogspot.com

I need your help! Promote this piece of crap.

Poetry

I'm sitting here feeling really, really bored so I'm going to write some emo poetry that a really emo person would write. Unfortunately, I'm not a real emo person so everything I write is going to be the perfectly stereotypical emo person's poem:

Darkness

I sit here on this chair,
Why won't someone save me?
I'm dying of despair.

Woo. That's pretty readable isn't it? Chair-Despair. It rhymes. I'm so talented. GAH! I'm BORED. It's a Thursday night. I should be chilling with my peeps. Why aren't I chilling with my peeps? WHY?
I think I'll go google stuff. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I google imaged perky? Huh. Well. Maybe you should try that out for yourself.

Or not. Your mum might come bursting into the room saying "I thought I told you to-OHMYGODWHATISTHAT?" And BAM you get grounded for the whole month.

I bet you're just DYING to google image it now aren't you?
AREN'T YOU?

Well-you've been warned.

CRAPULOUS!

Greeting loyal readers (if you're not a loyal reader than screw you)

My endless supply of generosity never ceases to amaze, astound, and impress me. Yes, my altruistic tendencies are often envied my many peers; that as well as my modesty. Can't you tell?

Today is a day to be remembered. For it is today, that I, PersonWhoShallNotBeNamedCauseThenEveryoneWillSayI'mABitchForHavingAnEmoBlog, will tell you a word that I have created myself.
Presenting...

CRAPULOUS!

Yes. I have been told that this word was used before I thought of it, but I didn't KNOW that did I? So technically, it means I invented it! Whoo! So for you simpletons out there, let me break it down for you:

Crapulous can be divided into two words: Crap, and fabulous.

Crap is a colloquial term of sorts that is used to describe faecal matter, or something that is generally fucked up.
E.g. Argh, today was a crap day.
or
E.g. Fuck. My dog crapped on the carpet.

Fabulous on the other hand is word used to describe something very cool, very great, very perky, very fun.
Note the use of the word very.

E.g. My, this is a FABULOUS blog.

So, if one were to put together CRAP and FABULOUS it would mean something that is very shitty. You see, where I'm going with this?

E.g. Other blogs are utterly crapulous compared to this.

TADAH!

I know, I know. It is very kind of me to share this word with the world.

What can I say?

I'm a cyber Mother Theresa.

The Beginning

Hello my fellow bloggers.

I have been diagnosed with a severe case of writers block. I cannot think of a single thing to say to you except

"WELCOME TO THE BEST BLEEPING BLOG YOUR MISERABLE EYES HAVE EVER SEEN"

Or at least it will be.

Once I find out how to WORK this stupid thing.

But ANYWAY, I might not be here for long so:

Savour me-BITCHES.