Physics exam was a complete fiasco.

I started sneezing halfway through the exam, and I had no tissue on end, so I sounded like someone suffering from bird flu. If you would like more details on the consistency and colour of my mucus, you can send me an email, otherwise, I'll spare you the details.

I sneezed over the entire page of paper, and I daresay that it made it more interesting. The droplets of saliva or whatever clear fluid it was spiced up the otherwise boring landscape of stupid blocks that always fall in exam questions, and balls which have limitless ways of falling.

Who the fuck cares about a stupid block moving down the ramp? The block can slide its way down to hell for all I care. God forbid that it happens, because the impossible actually occured: Physcis is interesting! GASP!

The way the questions are phrased are so boring. I don't care about a metal hoop or whatever it was. Instead of using such boring terms, why can't they add more fantastical details to the question? e.g.

Physics questions Chanel's style:

A cherub weighing 500N slides down from heaven and, due to some mistake on God's part who forgot to close the holes to hell, the cherub falls to Hell at a velocity of 666m/s, and lands on an occupied Satan's head. Assuming that no energy is lost,

i) What is the force at which the cherub butts Satan's head?
ii) How will Satan be affected? Explain this in terms of Pressure.

At least this is more interesting than some stupid metal ball which falls in oil. WHo the heck is so free to ponder the speed at which the ball falls? I would rather be doign something mroe productive like sleeping or blogging.

You know, what makes a blog entry or even a diary/bad prose so different from prose as it is SUPPOSED to be written is that fact that the narrator must have a personality.

I contemplated this while reading criticisms of Twilight (see? Reading criticism DOES SO help you improve your writing because you learn more).

That's when it occured to me that holy crap! I have a lack of personality! because my ramblings in my head sound so similar to Twilight, minus the elegies/sonnets/exhaltations of one disco ball known as Edward Cullen. I'd like to think that I'm not as boring or vapid as Bella. I hope. Stuff in your head sounds better than what you write down. A good thing, considering how doleful and woebegone my sucky poetry is.

First it was the lack of emotion in my work. Then a lack of personality. I accept it! I am a terrible writer! This amazing hypothesis struck me as I was struggling with the Lit paper this afternoon, wondering at how insanely difficult it was to express myself. I felt like a 3-in-1 coffee mix: promising with good allocades, but terrible to the taste buds.

Maybe there are people who like 3-in-1 coffee though.

Re-reading what I wrote for this dratted entry, I figured that even if I added in a few vulgarities here and there and sprinkled it with sugar it would still suck because the previous few paragraphs were boring.

I am boring, Period.

The only interesting thing that happened to me was the infamous egg conditoner incident, which will be going into the 'classics' section of this blog if I bother to remember.

The exams are over! Yipee!

Listening to the girls discussing various facial treatments they wanted to do after the exams made my hands itchy for a lack of something to do, and I went to Watson's to try it out. Emerging with a dubious-looking pack of pore strips which looked like it was some pest killer (that's how unappealing the packaging was) and a deep hydration mask, I went home.

After giving my face a good scrubbing down and exfoliation or whatever that stupid beauty thing is called, I'm a facial idiot but a hair-beauty-expert, I followed the instructions to a T.

Much confusion ensued because I wasn't sure about what the instrucitons meant. What did they mean by 'smooth' side? Was it the sticky, shiny side or was it the furry side? Anyway both sides felt smooth to me. Why are insturcitons so goddamn ambiguous? It's like cooking instructios which tell you to add milk but never state what type it was (cow? goat? sheep? breast?). For goodness' sake, pick out a more defining quality!

I came ot the conclusion that instructions were useless, and fiddled with it for a while, and decided to stick it to my nose the sticky side down. Well, whatever. To be safe (because the instructions said to wet my nose), I think I dunked my entire face in water.

Whatever. My nose felt weird, and I looked like one of those Chinese criminals. Except that these anceitn chinese criminals stuck weird black patches to their temples (which I never quite figured out the purpose). Did the chinese invent facials or something?

I surfed the internet because I had nothing better to do than to wait for the ugly strip across my nose to harden up. Thank goodness it smells relatively pleasant, and not like some mysterious herb medicine of the coast of South Africa. Nevertheless, I was grateful no one came up, because I must have looked quite the sight. Anybody with a humongous back curtain plastered to their noses will look ridiculous. Especially facial masks. When I was young I recall thinking that women were stupid to put green stuff on their faces.

Anyway, I peeled it off 15 minutes later, liek the instructions said, and discovered that only one or two black heads were popped.

Stupid advertorials and the people gullible enough to believe them (i.e. me!)

I can do a much better job with my hands, damnit. (Doesn't this statement sound wonderfully sexually suggestive?)

Stupid commerical products. Arghhh. Why bother to manufacture them when they don't work.

Conclusion: Biore pore strips don't work. Period. For them to work you must have blackheads the size of a shitake mushroom, which is pretty damn big when it's on your face, rather like huang zu ren's mole. The type of blackheads that, if your nose was the world map, would obscure the entirety of China.


I AM STILL FRIGGING HIGH THAT THE EXMAS ARE OVER. I WANT TO BUY MY ANKLE BOOTS! BOOTS BOOTS BOOTS!