I Think I Was Dropped on my Head as a Baby

I'm a pretty uncool person. I lack all the fundamental attributes one must have to be considered cool, such as attractiveness, athleticism, the ability to be put into social situations without being reduced to a blubbering pile of nerves and standing in a corner pretending to text all night. I like to think I've gotten a bit better at that last regard, but when I was younger I was really, really bad at the whole 'talking to people' thing. I also couldn't understand technology. (Some people may say that judging from the overly simplistic layout of my blog, I still can't. To those people I say: shut the fuck up.)

When I was about 10 or 11, my vastly more popular friend took me to her place and, after acting appropriately shocked and condescending of the fact that I didn't already have one, made me get my very first email address. She then introduced me to the wonders of msn, and demonstrated how one goes about having a conversation on this Application from Above by showing me one of her own.

V (my friend): Hi
V: Sup?
Her friend: Ntm.
Her friend: U?

And that's as far as it got before she decided that was enough for me to get the general gist of it. And it would have been, for a normal person.

So I go home, and decide my newfound knowledge made me infinitely cooler and thus able to talk to a boy I had had a crush on for ages but was too scared to do anything about it. I open a conversation and go:

Me: Hi
Me: Sup?
Me: Ntm.
Me: U?

I was obviously too busy committing the nonsensical shortening of phrases to memory to pay much attention to anything else, including the fact that there were two different people talking in V's conversation.


Needless to say, he never replied.

I am in so much pain right now I can almost taste death

For 25 days a month when I read about people on facebook or twitter complaining about their uterus hurting I think Shut up and take a panadol you whiny little bitch. The other five or so days I read about people complaining about their uterus hurting and I think... There's no way in hell you're in as much pain as I am right now. Shut up and take a panadol you whiny little bitch.


And that's why I have no friends.

Obviously Lab Coats are Evil. Everyone Knows That.

This sign confuses me.

1) It was posted outside the conference room where I have my tutorials, where no one should ever really feel the need to wear a lab coat in the first place. In fact, I'm pretty sure there aren't any laboratories in the whole building, but apparently enough people have been walking around in them to warrant this sign.

2) What the hell is so offensive about lab coats?? I think there's a crazy mathematician here who's so fucking sick of real scientists and their useful and applicable to real life discoveries that he decided to ban the source of their power. Like, try to cure cancer NOW, bitches. That's right. Not feeling so hot without your precious lab coat, are you? ARE YOU? And then he goes off and constructs an elaborate proof that no one cares about. God I miss maths.


The worst part is I'm the only one who found this sign even mildly amusing. I pointed it out to my friends and they were like: I guess we better not wear lab coats then and I'm like: am I the only one finding this weird? THIS IS FUCKING WEIRD! and they're all you're kinda weird and then I go off into a corner and cry. But first take a picture so that I can at least find validation on the internet. On a blog that no one reads. Right.

I have a blog now!

Obviously.

The point of that title was not to state something a three year old could figure out. It was to make me happy. I've always had a blog, but its been set to private and was used more like an online diary full of angsty thoughts and poetry. No one wants to read that shit, especially me. So I decided to make a new, public one with normal posts that I can look back on and smile. That's the plan anyway. Here's a picture.

Oh, Hong Kong. I fucking love you, you know that?