Word of the day: "novation"

Your appended comments are more like dead ugly conjoined twins.. like that South Park character with a fetus on her forehead. The comments are probably the tumours, since they're the ones that grow. Although how come no one comments that much on our garbage? Probably due to the fact that the comprehensive ranting of our entries leaves little space for marginalia.

As I said to you, I assisted in the redesign of your blog commentary template in the interests of ensuring that our enduring commitment to the complete and utter absence of any aesthetic artistry on this blog is adhered to. Already there is one little irritating sidebar, but since the links there help to faciliate archive retrieval, I tolerate its presence. Don't push it.

A two-headed snake might survive if it was a hydra.

Why do you want credit cards? They are EVIL objects meant to trap you within the samsara of consumerism forever. Erm. But they make paying for petrol really easy. As well as ordering shit off the Internet. ARGH. (*muttermutter* stupid crappy rate of exchange and absence of purchasing power parity)

My set is more precious, simply because it's mine, and as for shipping it overseas - obviously the worry it would cause me as a more emotionally sensitive bipolar depressive merchant banker is less than the worry it causes you as an apathetic, yet oddly Zen-like NS-man. It's a matter of applying some of the Benthamite "felicific calculus" - ie. my happiness is more important than your lack of it. His protege J.S Mill has good words on the distinction between higher and lower classes of pleasures too. In any case, promoting Blood Sword to the masses is a noble cause; and like all noble causes, it's always about the older person telling the younger person to go sacrifice himself for the greater good. Karmic accrual.

M$N is evil indeed, but an anti-M$N page is going to be pretty cliched, methinks. And yes, your cause is lost. The distinctiveness of your PC will be assimilated into the Gatesian conglomerate.

"The worst thing about being Bill Gates is that you can never be sure if your hand isn't having sex with you just for the money."

I can see why you shouldn't plan for a wedding dinner. *sincerely*

Ask me to explain my chick-rating system one day. If anyone knows anything about credit ratings (Standard & Poor, Moody's, Fitch), and is interested to know how equity = marriage while bonds = relationships, just drop a line.

Because in clubs, female toilets inevitably have a queue snaking out the door, and wending serpentinely for miles outside. Blame it on women and the inefficient anatomy of their biological waste disposal mechanisms. That, and the way they all crowd in front of bathroom mirrors with eyeliners, tweezers, lipstick, and other hideous cosmetic paraphernalia. It's quite possible to see more than you want to when walking past an opened female toilet door.

I still think you're awfully stubborn over the submit button thing. But I put up with your little eccentricities.

Why should Microsoft release the Mech Paks as a patch when they can squeeze a few extra dollars out of the consumer? I mean, there are people who *really* want a Cauldron-Born or a Highlander in their game. Fortuitously, the only economic contribution I shall be making will be to the happy pirates, who deserve my money far more for providing me a necessary psychological prophylactic at affordable prices.

"No lives" isn't such a bad thing. I haven't got one too. *shrugs* But I like to think I spend it constructively furnishing my own internal mental dioramas, scratching my navel, reading philosophy and watching pornography, compared to inflicting execrable graphic pretensions on the world. *primly* I'll stick to verbal pretensions, thank you very much.

*peers* You really do enjoy quoting me out of context, don't you? Should I qualify my statements in greater detail? *rhetorically* But it's more masturbatory than usual to annotate one's own quotes as paraphrased by someone else. Oh well.

I've refused to do a webpage of my own all these years mainly because I'm as lazy as a sloth on pot. That, and the fact that I haven't got a message to say to the world at large that demands my own personal presence on the net. On the other hand, renting space on a blog allows me to organise my thoughts a little, kill time at work, and occasionally archive down some of the more interesting events in my life, without the responsibility of owning my own *territory* that demands a personal imprint, personal pretension, and an expression of my retarded aesthetic sense. And of course, the hassles of maintaining a rented blog are borne by the landlord.

Why do you think I blog here? Because of the brutally utilitarian format, devoid of any artistic trapping or fancy colour scheme (cranberry is not a colour scheme). It's only the words that matter. Not the fancy backgrounds or the 3l33t chatboxes or the brooding fonts. Simple Verdana text on a white background.

And as for that essay, I believe these words sum up my feelings best. "I could gouge out my eyes, smash the tainted orbs on the floor, sprinkle salt over my bloody sockets, and whip myself repeatedly with a broken-glass-laced cat 'o nine-tails, but I could never gouge out my memory."

Still, it's nice to be loved, isn't it?:)