tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31101187066748530472012-02-16T21:19:29.587+08:00joeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06535051619914324391noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3110118706674853047.post-63597613564258772452009-06-10T11:11:00.014+08:002009-06-10T12:57:17.822+08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/funny-pictures-emo-goat-in-tree.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: left;">yes, this blog is moving.</div><div><br /></div><div>recently it's been obvious that there are now very limited things that i can post up. more people than i'd like read this, which is not, honestly, in my best interest.</div><div><br /></div><div>a blog is a curious thing, you see.</div><div><br /></div><div>it is like a diary, only you WANT it read. it turns into less of a diary, more of a public announcement.</div><div><br /></div><div>as so many of us forget, public means that EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. ALIVE. can read it if they want to. </div><div><br /></div><div>not just the people involved, EVERYONE.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.bofunk.com/photoalbum/111.jpg" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>this guy knows what you ate for dinner, what you are wearing, who you have been with, where you hang out, and what you are feeling.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>he reads your blog.</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>now it's all fine and dandy if it's your friends (see above) reading it. because even when you're smeared in chocolate or shitting aborted fetuses, they've got your chocolatey, fetus-swollen back.</div><div><br /></div><div>reference genitals all you like, curse and rant all you like, your friends are there for you. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>example one:</div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>hello mike!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>mike: <b>hello bob!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>penis!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>mike: <b>that's right, bob.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>example two: </div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>my dog left me and my girlfriend ate all my shoes. nobody loves me.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>mike: <b>cheer up, bob, we still love you. say, can i use your toilet? i need to shit a cellophane-wrapped fetus. </b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>sure thing, mike. hey, thanks for listening. i feel so much better.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>mike: <b>any time. </b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>penis!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>mike: <b>that too, bob. </b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>so bob, our hero, goes home and writes a post like:</div><div><br /></div><div><b>2day i saw M and i told him abt Girl and Dog. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>i miss Girl, she was the best dog i ever had. i am nothing without her. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>why, if an enemy, perhaps wishing to emotionally wound me or cause me to be deeply depressed, should happen to confront me on this matter, this would be it. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>btw, M shat a lot of fetuses into my downstairs loo, does anyone know of a good cleaning agent? maybe Duck Mold lolZz.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>penis!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 26, 139); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kXnVoQ9ZFkQ/SRxgcf_Hm6I/AAAAAAAAF9E/VmcngeKKSUA/s400/CWiswatchingyoupee.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>he also knows when you pee and whether you shake your dingle after you do it. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>because you blogged about it yesterday.</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>it is not just christopher walken watching you pee.</div><div><br /></div><div>people who KNOW you read your blog. </div><div><br /></div><div>the principal can read your blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>your mom can read your blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>the guy whom you think is so cute can read your blog. </div><div><br /></div><div>we cannot avoid embarrassment, and more. we forget that there are other people who are not so nice. they know too little of us, they judge us by our exteriors.</div><div><br /></div><div>some are enemies, who hate our guts and Assorted Organs (TM). they'd kill for a chance to see us fall. </div><div><br /></div><div>when we write sad posts, embarrassing posts, raw honest posts, they pounce on it.</div><div><br /></div><div>they don't want us dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>that would be too easy. </div><div><br /></div><div>they want us writhing on in the mud, utterly defeated, their boot on our head, with needles pushed under our fingernails, broken and raped and crying in the gutter. </div><div><br /></div><div>they want us to <i>scream</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>and with this knowledge of what hurts us, they are stronger. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>example:</div><div><br /></div><div>joseph gerald the IIIrd, who hates bob, reading his blog: <b>at last! a chance to emotionally wound bob and cause him to be deeply depressed! </b></div><div><br /></div><div>joseph confronts bob.</div><div><br /></div><div>joseph gerald the IIIrd: <b>bob, i know your secret</b><b>.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>what?</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>joseph gerald the IIIrd: <b>YOU NEED A CLEANING AGENT. </b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob falls to his knees.</div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>h-how did you know?</b> </div><div><br /></div><div>joseph gerald the IIIrd: <b>by the power of virility vested in me, i command every bottle of cleaning agent in the world to disappear!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob: <b>NOOOOO000000ooooooo!</b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob tragically kills himself.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>and some are people in authority. people in authority are very dangerous, especially when they are equipped with the sense of humour of a trodden-on jelly baby. </div><div><br /></div><div>they do not think that references to genitals are funny.</div><div><br /></div><div>and they have power over our lives.</div><div><br /></div><div>what has the world come to?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>example:</div><div><br /></div><div>bob's boss, reading his blog: <b>bob? referencing <i>penises</i>? and i thought he was a decent, clean, upright, penis-free man. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>bob's mom, reading his blog: <b>bob, if you're going to be friends with a man who excretes dead babies, you can't come home to dinner any more.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>the president of the united states: <b>this so-called "Girl", "fetuses", and "Duck Mold",</b><b> are clearly metaphors for a hidden power struggle concerning a drug heist in russia. this "penis" must mean the coast of california. SWAT team, spread out and arrest this man! </b></div><div><br /></div><div>bob is thus fired, banned from eating his mother's food, and arrested. however, being tragically dead, this does not affect him much.</div><div><br /></div><div>but everyone thinks he's a jerk.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/funny-pictures-emo-goat-in-tree.jpg"><img src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/funny-pictures-emo-goat-in-tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 236px; " /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>the point is, a blog is a dangerous thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>the irony is, we know it.</div><div><br /></div><div>deep down we secretly want people to know of our distress, because being emo is, y'know, <i>cool</i>. it makes you look <i>deep</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>and if you can phrase it in a cool way, <i>smart</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>but with all the bad things that could happen to us, we'll forgo being cool and deep and smart (and dead) for being not so very dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>so that's why we're relocating.</div><div><br /></div><div>all the posts are not gone, they are swimming in cyberspace somewhere. </div><div><br /></div><div>yes, the right honorable mr pigworm, the mika comic, the horrible squishy mushy rantings about ex dudefriend are all still there. if you want them, ask. </div><div><br /></div><div>don't say your goodbyes, just come and ask us when and where we're going, and we'll tell you!</div><div><br /></div><div>probably we'll have a nice passworded blog with lots of sparkles and cupcakes. we'd like that.</div><div><br /></div><div>and now</div><div><br /></div><div>we leave you.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>FLOURISH!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>BLOG OFFICIALLY ABANDONED.</b></div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3110118706674853047-6359761356425877245?l=joeymusicbottle.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>joeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06535051619914324391noreply@blogger.com0