Thursday, August 7, 2008

Doomsday prophet.

'Lo all.

Interesting, found another website with a ton of doomsday theories, which add to my own musings. For the record, I'm predicting nuclear war between the US and Israel vs Iran in 2010, because it's just waiting to happen, Mayan calendar resetting in December 2012, though that might not be world ending, just poles going nuts...which will probably be world ending, given our reliance on satellites these days, and just for the lulz, CERN's Hadron (don't misspell it) Collider accidently causing a little black hole that kills us all instantly. Either way, should be fun. Global warming is too slow.

Denny rocked up this morning, seems he has been busy. Good on him. Then chapel, a brief look at Hiroshima, since the Japanese girls were there, and it was Peace day yesterday. Mrs Jacka seemed grumpy.

Homeroom. We put up some fresh pictures on the wall, and I aired my thoughts about how the world ends. Scared a couple of people, which was fun. Then Tom started calling Emily Fantapants. Emily is a redhead. Think about it.

Then english, which was more Romeo and Juliet. I won the word of the day thingy, and chucked the chocolate at Oliver.

Recess was meh. I should have got out more.

Next we had a visit from a ponytailed, PTSD-riddled, right wing Vietnam veteran, who still had some good stories. He had a fair few relics with him, and picked on the French guy, Kelly and Tom and Amanda the cadets.

Lunch we hit the playground, then tried shooting goals throught he spiderweb. Aiden was under attack from a mob of bark throwing year 7s. Then we played almost-soccer and Urban Rodeo, which devolved into a rape fest. I remembered I had a psych test next, so left early and got some revision done.

Then psych itself, which was more revision, then the test, which was suprisingly easy, then talking to Carl about movies.

Back home, Denny wondered about what to do for an hour, then went home, after deciding to play games on his expensive ps3 and getting an early night, since Erin was coming to visit in the morning.

Then mucking around on the interbutt, and with bloody mobile phones. Eventually my optus sim card died, and my new telstra magic one cent text one has a funny number. Hopefully soon it'll have my old number, save me having to piss everyone off.

Finally some counselling, and catching up with people. Isobelle needs to rage a bit, and Pat has a phone. Nobody will know what hit them. I noticed that while mogulus has Full Metal Jacket and 66 episodes of Pokemon, it has no Daria. Bah.

Tomorrow, sleep, then Yarram eisteddfod, where we are going to kick some arse. Bastard school bands. Hopefully my phone is working, and Annie's prediction is right.

And don't say I didn't warn you.


Anyway, the end.

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