Wednesday, October 06, 2010 | 6:13 pm
Nothing to write about except for a lame trip with my family to this art exhibition thing where the paintings were supposed to move around and talk in downtown east. Basically, it's a transformation of JPG to GIF. Very boring since I'm not an art person so I was moving along until I came upon the Mona Lisa picture where 'she' would answer your questions. Obviously there was someone behind the picture with a mic and there were supposed to be 7 standard questions you can ask her that was written on the wall like 'when were you painted' stuff like that. Of course the kids got bored and some of them were like asking who is your husband, what's his name, where is his name so long to which she replied the appropriate answers and to the last one: how would I know?? Then there was this middle aged indian girl who either was pissed off or just trying to make fun of her started to shout weird questions like why only paint you don't paint you with your husband? you think you very chio ah?!?!?!? hmmm, immature people. I was so happy to finally walk out of that tent and went to eat gelare. Think that was the only highlight of that trip. And the lameness of that indian girl.
The following is an email my uncle send me a long time ago but I didn't forward to anyone cause some people receiving mail like spam, chain whatever. I might as well put it here to continue my blog lol.
Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus".
This is offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado as an actual class assignment:
A Creative Writing professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting next door to his or her desk.
As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.
Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."
The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:
Rebecca,
Bill.
THE STORY:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Bill)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator." Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
(Bill)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized even poor, stupid Laurie.
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
(Bill)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. " Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo. I guess I've read too many Danielle Steele novels!"
(Rebecca)
A$$h@le.
(Bill)
B*tch!
(Rebecca)
F*** YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!
(Bill)
In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.
(TEACHER)
A+ - I really liked this one.