life and lemons

Because what the fuck are you supposed to do with a lemon.

Side note: I'M SO FUCKING WISE.

a test of self-discipline

Lesson learned: He who can suck on candy without chewing... can do ANYTHING.

I do an hour of sit ups everyday

Like, seriously.

I'm still not hot.



Lesson for the day:  Being fat and unhealthy is much easier. Much much easier.

random stuff about me which you don't really care about but I'll post it anyway 'cause I have nothing else to write about

But before that, I shall show you guys a photo of my most decent drawing homework.  I'm secretly proud of it. Because it looks fucking awesome.

For me, anyway.

It's cool 'cause I just copied it from Faber Castell.

Also, the horse's ears are missing 'cause the stupid Eco-pencils logo thing was blocking it.
Stupid evil eco-friendly pencils. Mutilating innocent horses.

Now for the random stuff about me:


I have no sense of balance.  I can fall over even when I'm just standing still.  I am not exaggerating.

IT'S A SKILL, OKAY?

I like math.  

A lot.  This is why I don't have much friends.

I have a tendency to like guys named Mark.

...and Luke, and Matthew. This is my subconscious's way of trying to be holy.

It turns me on when guys stretch not in a LOOK-I-have-muscles way but in an ahhhh-it-feels-great-to-stretch way.  Which is not good for me because our Trig teacher stretches a lot for some reason and it's distracting 'cause he has nice arm muscles.

I tend to like guys who are between 24 and 34 years old.  Which means I end up crushing on most of my teachers.  Which is kinda weird.



Lesson for the day:  Our Trig teacher is sexy.  And he likes math too and OMG WE WERE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER. 

my drawing was so realistic it started talking to me

Me: You look terrible.

Self-portrait: Dude, I'm just you. Except I'm made of graphite.

Me: Don't science me at 4AM.

Self-portrait: "Graphite" isn't exactly science-y.

Me: Shut up you're still ugly as fuck and therefore have no right to talk.

Self-portrait: Since I'm basically just a copy of you, doesn't that mean you've no right to talk too?

Me: No you're not. You look nothing like me. Now shut the flip up while I try to make you look decent.

Self-portrait: There's nothing you can do to make me look decent-er. You are trying to draw yourself right?

Me: Point taken.

My self-portrait has no sense of respect.

Lesson for the day:  Visual Arts homework should not be done at the last minute. Also, don't talk to portraits.

oh hey would you look at the, uh.. month. IT'S ALREADY AUGUST!

TIME FLIES BY SO FAST, DOESN'T IT?

**I was supposed to post this last week because classes were suspended for the whole week last week.  Because of the rain. But I got lazy and didn't finish writing this so.

I can explain why I've been gone for more than two months (you might not have noticed but the last post was actually scheduled a month in advance) but that would be boring since all I've done during my hiatus was fill up college applications and pretend to study for the entrance exams.

Yeah, I'm a good student, I am.

And now I shall post irrelephant photos because I don't know to say.

GOD, JG. STOP BEING MARRIED.

Guys, meet JG Quintel.

He is cute sexy when he's drawing the voice of Mordecai and creator of Regular Show. And if you don't know what Regular Show is, you're probably too busy hating yourself and OMG YOU SHOULD JUST KILL YOURSELF.

Just kidding.

Because I'm like Jesus.

My face is awesome.

Hmm.

Maybe I should tell you guys about my (SUPER EXTREMELY SHORT) break as part of my (futile) attempt to bring this blog back to life.

But nothing interesting really happened.

Well, actually the UPCAT was pretty interesting but since none of you are from here, you won't understand anything I have to say about it. I should talk about something universal like... the reproductive system. Or something.

Maybe I should just talk about how gross periods are. Like how sometimes, the blood that comes out is sorta jelly-like; and how you can feel it oozing out of your uterus and passing through your cervix and the other parts on its way out on really hot days; and when you look in the toilet and see a mass of partly coagulated blood which suspiciously looks like a bloody 2-month old fetus doing gymnastics floating around in your pee, you're gonna think OMIGOD IS THAT MY ABORTED BABY? or something like that.

But periods are gross so I won't talk about it in detail, no.

... How about circumcision?



Lesson for the day: I should be kept away from teachers when I'm sleep-deprived and on my period.

when someone tells you your eyeball has a fever, don't try to take its temperature

I have weird dreams.

If you're seeing this, then it's already June-something, school's already started, and I haven't posted anything yet like I planned.  I'm either too lazy to write a somewhat decent post, or grounded.

Or both.

But I'm most likely grounded.

In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of an obese cat on LSD.

to the person who found my blog by googling "old people having sex"

Seriously, why would you even want to see that?  Googling Ian's penis is more justifiable. 

Sorry to disappoint you but I do not post photos or videos of naked senior citizens "going forth and multiplying."

ANYWAY.

The child within.

I'll be gone for a few weeks for I will try to... "find myself."  Try to reconnect with the "child within."  And if you know me in real life,* you'd know this is complete bull and I really have no idea what I'm saying.

*I'm pretty sure you don't but if you do, I suggest you read the notice on the right panel, the one with the mercat.

I'm going to try to stay away from the internet 'cause I have to study for college entrance exams (something I really should've done a month ago but didn't because I am a lazy, unproductive bum) so I could get into a good college and not starve on the streets, hanging only onto half a loaf of stale bread for life.

So I won't be able to read any of your blogs (sad face) or post anything on mine (YAY. Jk.).  BUT I'll try to post something before school starts again in June.

SO DON'T LEAVE ME, GUYS.

You're all hot, sexy bottles of chilli sauce for finding me funny/ interesting/ not-so-terrible!  (I'm not very good with analogies.)

What do you know!  It's not a toilet.

Here's a cookie for putting up with my terrible jokes.

(Keep laughing at my corny jokes and I might actually give you your hearts' greatest desires.  Toilets.  No need to thank me.) (I'm sorry, I like toilets.  Yes, I need to see a shrink.)

And because I am obsessed with animal porn (which may or may not be illegal in some countries), here's a link to find out your chances of surviving an intense lovemaking session with bigfoot!

And because I love Cup of Team so much 

... 

(Click on the giant ellipses.)

And because people like to Google other people's penises,  I shall post a photo of Josh Hutcherson's (not) penis to get more views!

Look at that sexy sack of sperm cells jawline.

And because I like saying and because, here's a picture of you!

I drawed you guys

Someone should give me this for my birthday.

Lesson for the day: When in Singapore, don't believe signs/notices unless they have "prohibited by law" on them.

See you guys in June!  Or whenever I decide to give up on my future which might not take so long now that I think about it.  I'll miss you guys!

a post about making choices

Sometimes, in life, we have moments of indecision. Obviously, this occurs when we have two or more difficult, potentially life-changing choices before us.

Potentially life-changing

Potentially life-changing AND difficult

But sometimes, you just have to accept the fact that you are fucked no matter what you do.

No choice

Now let me tell you a story about a girl who had to make a choice.  This choice would've made her life a whole lot better.  She could've found a cure for cancer and air-conditioned the whole world.

She could've been rich.

She could've been happy.

She could've been famous.

Her own wax figure pointing at her other wax figure.

But she fucked up and died.

Thankfully, we aren't this girl.  Thankfully, we aren't male angler fish either. 

Lesson for the day:  Extreme heat intensifies retardation and promotes cannibalism.  

how's your (holy) week?

Jesus just "died" a couple of hours ago and I'm obsessively Googling shirtless photos of Ian Somerhalder.

I'm going to hell.

Off with your clothes!

BUT COME ON WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO FUCK THAT?

If I were a guy, I'd totally go gay for him.  ...Well, not really.  But I'd be proud of my girlfriend for cheating on me if it's with him.  Yay morals!

I DO.

SORRY, GOD.

As penance, I thought I'd do something Jesus-related.

So I Googled "shirtless Jesus."

Not exactly what I expected.

I got shirtless photos of a different Jesus.  I didn't think people actually named their kids Jesus. Jesus.

Anyway.  Holy week.


I hate it. 

Okay, not really hate.  I find it... very troublesome.  I see it as a huge blip in my road to happiness.  Imagine happiness to be a land filled with bacon, fried chicken, ribs, and other meat stuff.  Good Friday would be like having a heart disease.

Also, I had to visit seven churches yesterday.  I had to visit SEVEN churches just to pray.  Do you have any idea how hot it was yesterday?  I felt like I was being cooked with the fatty food we're not allowed to eat.  But I guess it wasn't a total loss.  I saw dogs having a threesome yesterday so I guess it's alright.

So here's another photo of Ian.

Damn right you are.

Lesson for the day: Ian is very hot.



OH LOOK I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT JESUS.

Look at his abs.

HI JESUS.

Again, I'm sorry, God.

That's the lack of meat talking.

because nothing ever happens to me when I'm awake, I'll tell you about the illegal stuff I do in my dreams

I am Marie.

Marie.

Well no, not really. I have arms.

Arms!

But that's not the point.

This is.
Jk.
Please laugh.

Anyway.

The point is, I live a double life.

I'm a boring kid with no arms by day.

Marie.

And a machete-d psychotic murderer in a Mario costume by night.  (Like Zoe Kohler in The Third Deadly Sin. Minus the machete. And the Mario costume. So not really like Zoe Kohler. But she has arms!)

With arms!

These are my friends.

They're not very bright.

We enjoy murdering our teachers.

(Well, no not really. Some of them are actually pretty cool.)

We strike at malls.

Mall.
Just pretend it looks like one.

We ambush teachers at dressing rooms.

Unfortunately, our teachers always come prepared.

And since my friends aren't very bright (when they show up in my dreams anyway) I end up having to rescue them.

We end up being chased by other teachers around the mall, dangerously jumping from floor to floor to escape their deadly clutches. And because this is my dream, I get to rescue all my friends.

Sadly, we don't get to slay the teachers.

And because I am bi and slightly perverted (and again, because this is my dream)...

^ My girlfriend who doesn't know
we're in a relationship.
( I'm talking about the girl in the Luigi costume. 
Luigi isn't my girlfriend, okay? He's not a girl. )

And so our story ends with Mario and Luigi losing their manhood. 

Also, did you know that people find my blog by Google-ing "cow drawing" and "muscle men naked"?

Lesson for the day: More naked and cow photos = more views. Will convert this blog into a cow porn site.

hello there!

I didn't Google "sexy black ass in action" I swear.

Last week, I stubbed my toe on an exposed pipe thingy. (Oh, joy.) A bit of skin came off... and a bit of flesh did too, I think. But who cares! Angry Birds Space was trending in Russia last week AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS.

Also, I once flirted with a 33-year-old dude on Omegle.
Here's a picture of an obese cat to prove it.

Just in case you're wondering, the blue thing isn't a tongue or a misplaced dick.
It's a fish.

The cat knows everything.

I wish I were the cat. I want to know everything and be happy being fat and live forever and this sentence has no parallelism here have a cookie.

Toilet.

Oh hey a shuffling cardman.

And now at this point, some of you may be thinking "Ross, what the fuck are you trying to tell us."

Well, beats me.

Jk. What I'm is trying to tell you is that with love, anything is possible. A little piece of chocolate can look like shit and taste like shit. Cards can shuffle themselves and cigarette smoking can harm your children.

But let's just not think about the pointless-ness of this post. Let's think about God instead. Or pizza. Or just think about stabbing that guy behind you. Because I really have no idea what I'm supposed to write about because NOTHING. IS HAPPENING. IN MY LIFE. (Yes, it's summer. And I am still grounded. Sucks, no?) And asking me or yourself or anyone else about what Ross is trying to say will be a waste of brain cells. So please. For the hungry children in Africa. Shower.

Hopefully, my cow drawing will be enough to make up for wasting your time and internet space!

Are we good?

Haha, just kidding.

ANYWAY.

Since I obviously have nothing important to share with you people, I shall just give you some life-changing advice.

1. Don't forget to lock your house/car/dog door when you leave your house/car/dog.

2. Cigarette smoking is dangerous to your health.


3. Don't get pregnant.

Now I shall impart some golden skateboarding knowledge with you. When skateboarding, make sure to always wear your best sneakers.

...And nothing else.

Meet my mentor:

And on a totally unrelated note, last week, I stole my dad's neighbor's internet. Oh, the beauty of WiFi.



Lesson learned: Putting a lot of photos in a post can make it more bearable.


PS: I LIKE BIG LETTERS.
PPS: I also like big ellipses. 
...
I am happy.
PPPS: Oh hey look I almost forgot! I got an award from Hazel.

THANK YOU HAZEL. AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUR BLOG!
Serve cake next time. 

PPPPS: I apologize for not reading all of your blogs. I'm really really really sorry! I'm only allowed to use the internet for like, 2 hours a week (and when I'm at my dad's and his neighbor's WiFi is on) and we all know it's impossible to read a week's worth of posts in two hours. BUT I DO TRY.

I LOVE YOU ALL HERE YOU CAN HAVE A MIRROR WITH SANTA'S REFLECTION!

AND A TOILET