Finding the right alarm tone might seem as simple as figuring out who’s gonna die in the next film starring Sean Bean. But this issue of alarm tones has turned my mornings into a mission more complicated than finding out who really did let the dogs out , I am though, extremely persistent to succeed in finding the right one. My troubled position concerns around a tone similar to the backing sounds of a film scene where a character is doing something sneaky. Kind of like the Alton Tower’s theme tune. (click me, I will make sense of her ramblings) I’ve had this waking me up for as long as the time since someone said ‘Hey, let’s walk our Dinosaurs to the other end of the earth’. I have thought about changing it, but changing your alarm tone always succumbs to the force of bad timing. I set my alarm just before I crawl under the comfort of a thousand feathers, (cause that’s the only time where I remind myself I have to change it). But since I have been addicted to either Prison Break, Heroes or Lost for the last ten months, my bedtime has been pushed slightly further to the dark side. So when I’m there in the peak time of a stray cat’s meow just remembering that I wanted to change my alarm, everyone else is asleep! Which corrupts my intention of going through my IPhone’s alarm tunes library to pick a new tone. Also because it would wake up Leonardo DiCaprio in a third level inception dream from miles away. So I turn to the snuggles anyway, fearing the consequences of my idiot alarm in the morning. The curse of this particular alarm is that its beginning tunes are too low, so it sneaks into my dreams. Like a ninja. This event turns in to me Snorlax-ing away, while dreaming about me finding it impossible to turn my alarm off. In my dream, I hear my alarm going off and off, but either I can’t find it, or press the right buttons to stop from playing on loop. It totally dis-shapes my positive aura when I wake up. Wonder if this is something DiCaprio struggles with as well? Holla me, Leo if you read this.
In a lifetime, we probably spend the amount of years it took us to figure out that Santa isn’t real, on – waiting. That’s like the equivalent of having to watch Kristen Stewart cook rice . What a boost of wasteful discontent to your life. What I dislike most in the waiting category though, is queuing. When I’m queuing I never get that ‘Oh is it my turn already’ voice in my head. A sloth could learn the alphabet in the time it takes to get to your wanted destination after queuing. In addition, I find that some people in queues are like eels who always wanted to be dolphins – so they swim different than the rest of the stream, which ticks off the aura of the stream, and awkwardness like this arises:
… You get the idea. So without further ado, here’s my list of annoying things people do in queues.
1) I had been stuck on third floor at uni for hours, and suddenly just had to cave in a sandwich, before I would be mistaken for the-girl-who-really-has-to-back- one- out, since having an urge for the toilet, and being extremely hungry both looks like you are about to lay eggs. So I gracefully controlled my measures of hunger and got in the sandwich queue downstairs. Suddenly the guy in front – and behind me, realized that they knew each other, and started chatting away while I’m stood there in the middle feeling awkward. I was juggling with the idea of forcefully joining their conversation or letting the guy behind me move in front of me. But I was too hungry for that to be a wise idea, and I didn’t think that he was worthy of taking my spot. I personally think the most strategic move would be for the guy in front of me to move down at talk to his friend, face to face, and not face and awkward looking face and then to another face.
2) When I treat myself to fly back home I always luxuriously take off with Ryan Air. When boarding, they have two queues; One for normal bookings and one for priority bookings. They board people from the priority queue first, and half of that queue has a normal booking, cause totally blanked out the giant fattened blue sign that says ‘Priority only”. It’s like watching a fierce Amercia’s Next Top Model elimination, when these eels are asked to leave the priority queue. Why don’t people just read the sign?
3) I’ve witnessed two old men arguing about who has to put the split-thingie down on the conveyor belt, to separate their groceries. Has there ever been a rule for who has to put it down?!
4) People queuing for rollercoasters talking about rollercoaster accidents. It promptly sizzles a fear on top of my excitement for the ride – which is not a good mix of emotions.
5) People stepping back and stomping on your feet. Dude, it’s quite obvious that there will be someone behind you. – You are in a queue? Same thing goes for people with backpacks.
Check out the giggles for annoying things people do on airlplanes please go to:
Arguments are a peculiar thing when it’s witnessed from the eye of someone outside the angry fracture between the two argumenteers. In some cases they can lead to an agreement like the ‘waking up dead’ argument in scary movie 3 does, or it can become ever long like the ‘we were on a break’ argument between Ross and Rachel. A while ago I witnessed one of these Ross and Rachel arguments were you cannot help your giggles evolving even though they go on and on arguing.
Having taken the weight of my rubbershoes concealed feet, my arse was planking on an un-inviting disordered bench at Angel Tube station. Since my guilty pleasure is to watch cat videos on YouTube, (because I find cats as hilarious as Will Ferrel’s mouth) I quickly noticed that the homeless man outside the tube had a pet cat, and I treated the fact that he had a cat with gallant attention. Unlike others.
Suddenly this handicapped drunk rolled past me in his wheelchair like the speed of Charlie Sheen running in a marathon where the ending line is a made of coke. I could taste the scent of spirits galore on my lips as he passed me and headed straight for this poor homeless man. Out of his mouth he assembled a fierce oral diarrhea and busted it towards the homeless man. I quickly caught up, and putting his words into sense, he was raging about animal rights, while letting us all know that this homeless man is guilty of using his cat as a tool to beg for money. It’s not like it’s a wild panda he’s forced into captivity. When the homeless man told the drunk handicapped man to leave him and his cat alone, the whole situation upraised to the level of the awkwardness a Christmas dinner with Hannibal Lector and the Clarice would peak. The drunk handicapped man started rolling his wheel chair back and forth on the homeless man’s blanket while screaming out an abusive combination of words. This led to the cat feeling uncomfortable and it started meow-ing, which pushed the homeless man over the edge. Since you can’t really hit a handicapped man, he disappeared behind the walls of the tube, and came out with two police men, telling them take care of this drunk handicapped man who’s abusing him and his cat both verbally and with the force of his wheels. This pushed the drunk handicapped man over the edge, and he started wheeling and threatening the homeless man even more, until the police had to roll him away and cuff him up. I was sat there thinking… I don’t even know why I’m sitting here. Fate probably put me here, so I could enjoy this glorious random moment.
We all have those moments where we feel creatively charged, where pellets of ideas devour your brain. Kind of like when boys after a game of ‘Skyrim’ use “I used to be an adventurer like you, then I took an arrow to the knee” as an excuse to get out of stuff. Thinking about the roots of creativity – I first thought that the rise of our creative ideas was of toilet visits. Don’t know if it’s something to do with the physical means of the human body. You know – if something comes in – something must come out. In this case it would be spectacular ideas. It just seems like people always come out from the toilet like “Do you know what I just thought of?!”
Anyway, I came to the conclusion that we can’t all have great ideas such as Disney doing Star Wars, or making inflatable unicorn horns for cats. But when I smash though a great idea, it has usually been something that premiered of the wonders of my unconsciousness. 70% of my dreams consist of underwater adventures with killer whales. (These dreams gradually evolved after visiting SeaWorld last summer). In by dreams I can Expelliarmus Kristen Stewart for being as boring as listening to paint dry if it could speak; “Ehm, just getting there… oh no not yet. I’m still a bit moist… maybe now, aw still not dry”. In my dreams, I can touch MC Hammer, and phone home like ET.
While you are snoring away, you are on a level of awesomeness with Samuel L. Jackson when he brought “I’ve had it with these motherfucking snakes, on this motherfucking plane” into the world. You world is unconsciously your oyster! This is when these mysterious thoughts came into my head. The reason my unconscious mind can create anything, does probably have something to do with me knowing what everything looks like. So what about blind people? If they have been blind since they were brought in to the world, how do they know what anything looks like? So if they dreamt about a dinosaur trying to paint its house, what would they see? Maybe they can actually create things in their mind themselves, so a dinosaur painting its house could actually look the same as a salmon flapping colors with its tail on a snails shell, and still be the same thing! They don’t give a shit – they just create things as they want them to look like.
Hmm. I just don’t get it.
When my boyfriend quit his job, I took the liberty of using his freetime to randomize him for my motion graphics project at uni.