Here’s the new link:
–JANE–
One thing I’ll never be able to understand is green-tea ice cream. Why green tea? Ice cream companies could’ve chosen at least something more reasonable like raspberry tea or honey tea or or something, but nooo, they opted for the weird way out.
It doesn’t even TASTE like actual green tea. Well truth be told it’d be kind of impossible to make accurately flavored green tea ice cream, since ice cream has some sort of milk/cream-ish thing dumped in there, and traditionally green tea (or any East-Asian tea for that matter) is not mixed in with secretion from cow udders. That’s just gross.
Green tea ice cream tastes similar to the way mothballs smell and leaves a very strange and powdery sensation in your mouth, especially when you try to mash it up with your tongue a couple times.
In fact, I don’t understand why anything has to be green tea-flavored, other than green tea itself. Yesterday I saw a pack of “Green Tea Mints” for sale in some sort of store. What the hell?! Green Tea Mints?! How is that supposed to freshen your breath? O_o The green tea that I know doesn’t have much of a strong taste, so combining it with something like mint just makes no sense. Unless the green tea flavor in the “Green Tea Mints” is the ice cream green tea flavor, which then that’s really nasty. A zest of mothball-ishness and a powdery aftertaste combined with the zing of mint? It’ll make your breath worse, if anything.
Actually, why can’t we just leave mints alone? I really don’t know why we as humans feel the need to consume mints that are “citrus flavored” or “peach flavored” or “melon flavored” or “coffee flavored” (”coffee-flavored mint” a bit of an oxymoron, considering that coffee tends to make one’s breath smell not unlike rotting car exhaust). Do humans need any more of an incentive to suck on mints other than to freshen breath? I thought the possibility of being branded with the letter “B” for Bad Breath and therefore becoming a social leper forever destined to lurk outside the edges of social life (whilst breathing air smelling of turds into everyone’s face) was incentive enough.
I would complain about strawberry flavored Cheetos and coffee-flavored milk (YOU CANNOT CALL THAT VILE CONCOCTION “COFFEE”. THE NEXT CRETIN THAT CALLS THAT CRAP “COFFEE” GETS A WHOMP TO THE FACE AND A MACHETE IN THE BACK), but I am much too tired and would rather squash goombas than piss myself off by listing all the lets-put-together-any-sort-of-crap-flavor-and-see-if-it-will-sell “food products” that are roaming the world.
Mr. Bray, of English Room H401, had locked the door to his room, but was much too coffee and sleep-depraved to remember to lock his Macbook. With his empty Starbucks thermos clattering against his KIS ID card (which he kept picture-side down), he blundered across the hall to the middle school building, kicked a rogue piece of binder paper in his way, and shuffled into the Spanish room where his wife Mrs. Bray was doling out Spanish pop quizzes to unfortunate students.
As soon as his footsteps faded into the distance, the room was aflutter with students’ typing the Facebook URL into the URL box of Firefox. There had been a rumor that everyone in the room had been invited to an event on Facebook by Josh, but they weren’t sure what it was for. All they knew was that in the middle of Geometry Josh had a sudden revelation and wished to share it with the others in the classroom. It was agreed to all meet on a Skype conference as soon as Mr. Bray left the classroom, but then someone in the IT office screwed up the internet connection and no one could log on. Thus, they were forced to resort to the old-school, face-to-face way of meetings, which was in fact quite convenient since they were all in the same classroom anyways.
“Fellow classmates, I’m sure all of you heard of my epiphany I had in Geometry class yesterday, but first I would like to say something else. I have a dentist appointment in half an hour, so I won’t be with you guys much longer.” He was met with blank stares.
“Anyways, let’s cut to the chase. We are oppressed and are ruled with tyranny. Our human rights to privacy are turded upon with this blasted Remote Control Desktop 3. We are forced to endure grueling lessons of Sentence Patterns. We were forced to read a story about a guy who turned into a bug for no reason and another about a woman ditching her spouse, and we’re supposed to believe that those shenanigans are accepted as ‘literary classics.’ Our lives hang by a thread thanks to this dreaded Edline crap. My friends, it is time to REVOLT!!!!”
Everyone agreed, obviously. They all cheered and danced to Flo Rida’s song “Low” for many minutes. Then Josh cleared his throat and said he did prepare a song to sing entitled The Students of English, but he was going to be late for his dentist’s appointment, and his mom would be pissed, so instead he posted the lyrics up on the English 9 wikispace and left to get a root canal done.
Mr. Bray had returned, and immediately assigned the class a new project of some sort because he was pissed that they didn’t have his favorite coffee flavor (Mocha) in stock in the teacher’s lounge anymore. The project was tedious and completely useless, as it had no actual connection to English class, but when Mr. Bray was confronted with complaints, he threatened the students with “the connection between this project and English class is your GRADE,” and popped ‘em upside the head for good measure whilst reluctantly sipping his crappy americano.
It was at that moment when Jane threw the first punch and chucked a board marker at Mr. Bray’s shaven head. “NO MORE TYRANNY!!!” she cried. That got the whole class started. Pens of various colors and sizes were shoved into Mr. Bray’s ears while others bounced off his head and body. Someone swung a laptop bag and slapped Mr. Bray firmly across the back. Nogamoto finally tipped the scales with a full-on body slam to Mr. Bray’s pen-stained body, flinging him out the door. Victory was theirs!!! (Mr. Aitken from across the hall decided to adopt “Ignorance is bliss” as his new motto and kept out o fthe situation.)
At last, the students were free to run their own classroom (Jenny, using her l33t h4×0r skillz, changed everybody’s grades to a 10000000000000001% A++++). Ed and Noga, always being the eager ones to bring forth new (but useless and incomprehensible) ideas, sprung to the white board and took reign of the classroom discussion.
“Okay guys,” said Ed. “Before we start, we need to make some basic guidelines here. Let’s decide on a few rules everyone can agree on.”
“I’LL WRITE THEM DOWN, YOU SLIMY SYCOPHANTS!” screeched Jane, for no apparent reason. She seized a marker and proceeded to furiously scribble pictures of pigs and donkeys on to the board.
Yunji was the first to make a suggestion. “How about we decide who is the enemy and who is the friend?” Murmurs ran though the class as they all agreed this should be a priority when addressing the new rules for the classroom.
“What about The Forbidden Expo Markers From Mr. Boerner?” questioned Yusun. Ed nodded. “Yes, those will definitely be opened for public use. Mr. Bray has been unjustly hoarding them for much too long.” Jane’s eyes glinted greedily as she gnawed on the cap of the inferior Korean-brand board marker.
Soon, the class was in a full-fledged discussion with tears, sweat, and blood included (Daniel Lee had given Jenny a papercut), and covered topics that are much too long for the author to explain in full detail right now as it is 1:57 in the morning. Regardless, the official list of the seven rules was this:
These were written on the white board, each in a different color from the markers of The (No Longer) Forbidden Expo Board Markers. A griffin flew threw the window and smudged a bit of the writing; consequently he was shot to death and proffered to the headphones of Josh, which were now on display at the entrance of the classroom in memory of the moving speech he presented to the students 45 minutes ago.
Over the next few days, word got around to other classrooms of the revolt and similar revolts were attempted by other students, and of course the students of Room H401 (which they now called the Student Room instead of the English Room) fully supported each revolt and even supplied ammunition such as multicolored pens to chuck at the teacher.
There was a problem, however. Ed and Noga, who were now the two self-proclaimed leaders of the class, were starting to disagree with each other more and more. If Noga wanted more Facebooking time instead of MSNing time, then Ed would push for the exact opposite. If Noga supported Barack Obama, then Ed would accuse Obama for using “racial advantage” and create a shrine in honor of Hillary Clinton. Ed, being quite eloquent, was first to win over the people’s minds with a few well-placed swear words and free trips to the cafeteria. Noga on the other hand was becoming increasingly unpopular and that made him very mad. And a mad Noga was not a nice one.
After a few more days of Ed and Noga constantly bickering, Noga decided to take the extreme way out and mail-ordered nine tasers to the classroom. As soon as he received them, he promptly tasered Ed out of the room, where he was issued a detention from Mr. Schneider for being in the hallways without a hallway pass. Then Noga proceeded to taser anyone else who seemed to be opposed to Noga’s new reign over the classroom. Without asking anyone else, he set up his own national holiday to be celebrated in the classroom called National Japan Appreciation Day, and forced everyone to write a report on why “Japan is so hot” (so eloquently put by Noga). People who refused were tasered severely and were forced to bring in a hundred thousand won worth of sushi for next class. Still, Jane told the other classmates that this was all for a good cause, and that writing about Japan was better than writing retarded personal narritives, plus they could Facebook to their heart’s content (as long as they wrote one wall post a day on Noga’s profile). That convinced the students a little more, though some still had their doubts.
At that moment, however, Mr. Boerner stormed into the room (past the barricade of desks and chairs) and warned the kids to quit kidding themselves, and that all their parents would be called as of this afternoon. Everyone moaned in great despair and began mauling Noga in revenge. Mr. Bray re-entered the classroom stainless (albeit a small streak of green across his left eye) and announced a surpirse DOL check, which screwed everybody over and in the end, everything became the same again (minus the lack of Noga and Ed, which wasn’t a terrible loss in retrospect.)
The End.
He also stated (along with a mysterious someone I will only name by “Mr. Burrell”) that my tagline isn’t exactly of best taste. Which again, I do not necessarily disagree with. But that’s why I like it.
Still, in the best interests of my blog, I decided to change the tagline. First, I was going to change “AIDS” into “Tuberculosis Type A,” but that can also be rendered as offensive since someone out there reading my blog may have this very disease. So I decided “smallpox” is the best choice, since it has been completely eradicated from the face of the Earth except for a few select laboratories world-wide. Meaning that no one as of yet can have it, so no one visiting my blog can be offended. Unless they do have it, which then I sincerely hope they get the haell off my blog.
I am going to make myself a list of empathetic topics I can choose from for my next post:
- (Concept of) Time
- End of humans
- Humans screwing up the world
- My worst fear
- What I would do with three wishes
- What I think about the academic of life of today’s generation
Ooh I like the last one.
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS!!!
- JANE -
^ Apparently, when I “put first step” in their shop (Artbox), I “can have a big smile“. “Can.” But not necessarily. It’s optional. I could have a big frown if I wanted to. Or a big dump.
^ I’m not even going to TRY to decipher this one. But one thing I know for sure is that this sign does NOT make me “everyday smile and happy.” More like “everyday make odd finger gestures at grammatically mangled signs“
The people who were in charge of creating these signs for Artbox have not just butchered the English language, they have strangled it, hacked it up with a ten-foot long machete, and then proceeded to eat its raw flesh. In the rain.
Ironic considering that most Korean mothers will gnaw off their own hamstrings in order for their child to become fluent in English. I mean, even the CIA factbook has gone through the trouble of mentioning that “English [is] widely taught in junior high and high school.” (If you want proof CLICK HERE and look under the “Languages” part of the factbook.)
You’d think they’d be able to round up AT LEAST three or four people who could actually write a coherent sentence in a foreign language that is widely taught across the country. There are rumors that the students in top English programs could pwnz0rz a native speaker in a grammar test. So why couldn’t the chief designers of Artbox just hire one of those kids?! Or were they too busy making people “everyday smile and happy” whilst putting “first step in their shop” so they “can have a big smile” to care?
By the way, those are actual pictures taken with my cell phone. And yes, I went through the trouble of standing like a n00b in the middle of the mall with cell phone camera in hand to preserve this amazing linguistic abomination to god.
I want cookies.
–JANE–
“How so?”
“When one cracks a lame joke to you at one in the morning, you start laughing like a cretin. And you can’t stop.”
PICTURE TIME!!!!!!
I marvel at the sweat, blood, and tears put into this. I wonder if the guy who did this still has his arm.
“Yo momma’s so ubiquitous, that when she sits around the house, she sits ON the house at the same time! OOH!! BURN!”
If SAT’s were based off of this book…life would be good.
‘Nuff said.
RAWRRRR
Out of all the 300 spoofsI have seen thus far, this one takes frickin cake.
–JANE–
I think procrastination is going to end up shortening my life span. Actually, I think it already has. I may only have a few years, even months left to live. Then again, I can just procrastinate dying. I have more important things anyways. Like watching Everybody Hates Chris. lmao.
Speaking of which, I was going to write about why Everybody Hates Chris is God split up into three seasons of 22 episodes each….but I can do that later.
by me.
Next post preview: Why I love Everybody Hates Chris.
Person A: So…um, where did you used to live in America?
Person B: I never lived in America before.
Person A: Oh.
Person A aimlessly flips through cellphone acting like they have an important text message to answer, then walks away to fake a call.
Sometimes if you’re lucky you’ll get a very bright and open person who was just waiting for someone to speak first and they’ll talk right away. But more often than not you’ll always run into those who I like to call “conversational serial killers.”
Person A: Do you like rap?
Person B: No. (Conversation dies.)
Person A: Oh, do you like rock? (Attempted CPR upon dead conversation.)
Person B: No. (CPR attempt fails.)
Person A: -shifts feet- Pop music? (Last ditch effort to revive dialog.)
Person B: Hate it. (Conversation gets thrown into fiery pits of hell.)
Now I try not to take it too personally. Maybe they’re just in a bad mood or something. Perhaps they’re best friend just died, or they had family issues in the past that traumatized them so harshly they can never trust another human being again.
……But I bet they’re just @$$holes.
-JANE-
