I Feel a Funny Coming's take on Rebecca Black's "Friday"

Go back to the video and notice how scared the girl sitting next to her looks. That's not partying, folks, that's pure, unadulterated, pants-wetting titanium fear.

“Can’t any of you see what she’s doing?! For the love of humanity get me out of here!!”

We are heading towards a Barbie apocalypse. You have been warned.

Someone once said people fear what they do not understand...or maybe he said people do not understand what they fear. Maybe he said everyone fears clowns. Something like that, anyhow. And by golly, was he right. Clowns ARE scary bastards.

But he was right about us fearing what we can not understand, too. Unlike most other girls my age, I never got Barbie dolls. And boy did they scare me. Their half open mouths always seemed to be saying something but not quite, their dead eyes shone in the night. When I went to sleep I imagined their tiny beady eyes following me, ready to leap on my adolescent body as soon as I was alone because they needed a host to carry out experiments to figure out how to become real flesh and bone instead of plastic - for which they needed flesh and bone. My flesh and bone.

Needless to say, I have developed an irrational and furious hatred towards Barbie dolls.

So because I am currently the only one who can save the world from a barbie apocalypse (because seriously, that would just be pathetic) and because I'm nice like that, I realize that it behooves me to show the rest of the world the true, scary nature of Barbie. Here you go, the dark side of every Barbie you've ever played with. Prepare yourselves.

And keep checking behind you because I think I just saw your little sister's doll move.

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Raccoon Barbie looks at you when you’re asleep.

Princess Barbie is about to kick that kitten.

Coast Guard Barbie will polka stripe your ass

Midlife Crisis Barbie looks like your mom

The Handless Barbie doesn’t need to do anything to be scary. And don’t try telling me she has them, okay? She doesn’t. I know.

Exhibitionist Barbie eats babies.

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See what I meant? They're scary and heartless and will drag you off in the night to carry off their inhuman experiments. They will use your poor, dumb ass against the rest of humanity to replace us and take over the world. After all, what's one more human?

Also, don't look now, but I think that doll is right behind you. Sweet dreams.

Serious post # 4

I spelt bastard wrong in my header. Fml

None of you are going to come here again after reading this, are you?

Today, I am going to risk alienating all of the seven followers I have so one day I can die in peace knowing I was true to my own self. Guys, I am going to make a confession to end all confessions, something I have never told anyone in my life (except the plumber dude who was home that day I was feeling particularly vulnerable and shitty, but he doesn't count) - and if the whole world shuns me after today, then so be it.

I love bathrooms.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not in love with them. I don't draw secret pictures in my textbooks or sign my name I.B. (Ifra Bathroom?) or hope to marry them some day. Someone once said that love is not being blind to faults, but loving someone despite of them. I know that many bathrooms in the world are harsh, fluorescent hells, but that doesn't make me like them less. No, my fondness for them stems from the fact that they have always been my partners in crime.

Impromptu speeches influenced by Julius Caesar? Bathroom. Hide and seek? Bathroom. Too loud outside? Bathroom. Inspiration for blog? Bathroom. Is that too much information? Bathroom. But the real reason why bathrooms have a soft spot in my heart is because of this:

In the times before I knew there were things like germs or bacteria (or hygiene, apparently), I used to hide my candy in the bathroom.

Has that sunk in yet? I hid candy in the bathroom.

The idea being that no one in their right minds would go looking for candy in a bathroom. And I was right. Not once in my entire 8 years of hiding chocolate in the bathroom (I started to hide it under the sofa after that) did any body find it. There was a handy sill just above a window where packets of Toblerone and Jubilee could be hidden for days without anyone noticing, after which I transferred them to a more secure location, or just pigged the hell out of them.

Then, after years of my mom wondering where the heck I was getting candy at two o clock in the night, my little sister discovered my secret stash. She'd been at it for months: watching my every move, keeping stock of the candy in the fridge, looking into every nook and cranny of the house. With my secret found out, I promised her she could keep her candy there in exchange for her silence. She agreed. I humbly took away my candy, and my sister inherited that handy plank above the window. That spot was now hers to put her candy on as she pleased.

I then told my mom on her, because why the f**k not.

I was a genius. A thoroughly disgusting person, but a genius.

The 5 stages of Typing everyone went through

1) Slow:
This is when us mortals were first introduced to the marvels of the QWERTY keyboard. Instead of the aabeeseedee we were taught in first grade, we were given this strange new system, which feels a bit like my five year old brother took out all the letters from the keyboard and stuck them back again in random order (something he would do if he figured out how to get away with it) I mean, who in their right minds would begin with Q?

Also called: The Yahoo phase

2) i hav the typng capablitis ov a chmpanzee wth opposabl thmbs:
U rmmbr ths, dnt u? Yes, the second phase. Don't feel so ashamed, we're all guilty of this one. A mysterious disappearance of vowels, coupled with an assurance that making up our own spellings made us 'Cool.' This went up to the time when we finally realized tht typng lik ths maks us luk lik fcktrds. Don't take it too hard, though; people once thought genie pants were cool.

Pictured here: Epitome of coolness.

Also called: The Myspace phase

3) lolz, yew r so kewl.
This is when the power of being tech-savvy, powerful individuals went to our heads. We got so cool, we just had to invent a new exclusive language that would distinguish us from the mere mortals who didn't have an internet connection. This stage is characterized my adding unnecessary letters to every word and making up new, unnecessary words (ROFLOLBAG, anyone?) Fortunately, we got tired of looking at the red squiggly lines any time we typed anything, so perhaps this wasn't such a good idea...

Also called: The Orkut phase



4) ThIs iS aNNoYinG.
Still squiggly red lines. I have no idea what the human race was thinking at this point.


Also called: Facebook before The Social Network

5) Grammar Nazi.
Faith in humanity restored. This is the English our fore-fathers taught us, followed with almost an obsessive intensity. Even though this shows we did pay attention in fourth grade English (Ha, Ms. Sarah! I told you I didn't deserve that F!). I am afraid, however, that this might lead to world war...on the internet. (See what I did there?)

Also called: Facebook after The Social Network.

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6) omnomnomdhajsdhuahiabrainsgaudasbrainsduis:

No information available currently.

Also called: Facebook after the zombie apocalypse.

Why adults won't swear in front of us and other stories involving zombie gnomes (Not really, its just the one)

Y'all know how this goes. You're sitting in your room innocently trying to not do anything productive like home work or reading, when suddenly the door bangs open and you look in horror at the red-faced, really, really angry being that is your mom right now (or maybe its just my mom who does that, in which case I got a really unfair deal, God). As she gets ready for one of her...highly motivational pep talks, you cower and try to remember what is it that you did this time. Oh yeah, maybe she found out the moldy pizza crusts under your bed. Or the rabbit skeletons in your closets. Don't you just hate those furry little tykes with their tiny twitchy noses and big red scary eyes and stupid long useless ears? Anyway. Wait for it...

"You! You..."


And...stop. What? That's it? Thats all you get for being a crazy bunny mass murderer leaving week-old pizza under your bed?

Wait. Why isn't your mom saying anything? What is wrong with her?!


Oh, thats right. She can't swear in front of you. Heh heh. You watch in barely-disguised amusement as your mom seems to choke on her very words. This is bizarrely fascinating, sort of the way you'd watch a squirrel get run over by a car or a fat man coughing up food.



I'll give you a minute to get over the disturbing images...

Okay okay, I'll give you guys a minute now while I go check to make sure I'm not violating some law by posting pictures of dead animals.

I wasn't.


So here are the reasons why I think parents don't want to swear in front of you:

1) They don't want to introduce you to bad language - Which is pretty bull; I learnt my first bad word at school when in 5th grade (and all the later ones in sad, late night fights about platypus ((platypii?)) with unknown people on the internet, a period of my life that comes back to me most nights at 3 AM).

2) It's all about setting a good example. Adults are probably scared shitless that one day you're going to say a bad word right back at them, or in front of their parents or neighbors or bosses, after which they will have no choice but to drag your sorry behind (along with the rest of you, of course) out in the backyard, beat you into pulp and then fashion a garden accessory out of you.

Google Images will be the death of me. And everyone who is not a zombie garden gnome.

No nice person likes doing that.




3) They are honestly, sincerely oblivious to the fact that you might actually know swear words too. Most adults I know are completely ignorant of the fast pace that society moves at nowadays; my mom still thinks polka dots are "cute." Call it a generation gap or what you will, but some people prefer the good old days where the B word was balderdash and the F word was...fishnet stockings?

This is an insult.

4) We don't live in the 80's anymore, so we don't have to prove our badassery by creatively abusing every single person we meet.

Or by watching Saturday morning cartoons of this guy.

Instead, we use snarky, smart-ass retorts which would've taken a person in the 80's twenty minutes to figure out. It is no longer fashionable or polite to use swear words in society, or anywhere except with close friends and/or in life threatening situations, and people who still swear for the heck of it find themselves being looked down upon. While I may not agree with a lot of things going on right now, it seems like maybe political correctness is a good thing sometimes.

Also, we use guns.















Disclaimer: No animals were harmed during the production of this post. No, really.