Domination 1.0.1

So, domination huh...stop thinking like it's a kinky thing...you know you want it.

However, that is not the kind of domination I wish to speak off. I am simply puzzeled as to how my body finds an endless stowaway of energy to stay up till three every morning and then resume life back at 9 (Yes, I wake up at nine. Yes I work in an ad firm).

What am I doing till three in the morning? Oh...you know just waiting up to see whether the ghost of the dead girl whose message I refused to share with 5000 friends decides to show up. I mean what if she did, I obviously need to be a good ghost host. Don't need some silly preggers teen ghost thinking I can't offer them my soul to reap. I mean how insulting would it be if she turned up and I wasn't ready to serve her to damnation.

I mean seriously, what is with all this 'kapoosh' ( something I made up, because screw you that's why) about sharing and forwarding nonsense. I will do it if I want to. I mean I want to share a funny buzzfeed food porn post than I will. But don't fill my news feed with kapoosh about how a devotion filled like can cure cancer and turn everyone in vegans and save all the animals (Earth day is over in my country).

These things make Facebook sound like a douchebag dictator...like this and only then will I cure this child of his tumour; until then your newsfeeds will be full of hideous pictures of pus and mucus supplementing a tormented child with a tumour on his eye or something. You say there is no God...how dare you...Facebook is God...it can cure cancer and other such diseases ( with horrid pictures) using only your likes. Screw you science...you're too slow for the Facebook generation!

And of course, there are those like me who just scroll below...you monster! Hey man, if you want to comment on my weight get the F*** in line.

Moving on to the most detested part of Facebook. Everyone has friends who are crazy gamers and I am not talking COD or Halo or even the Sims( you say a word and I shall kill you...sims style). I mean farmville, pet shit saga and of course the 2013 farmville...Candy Crush. To those of you who deny having played candy crush...liars!

I stopped playing the nonsense several months ago, but to those of you who haven't, good for you. However, stop wasting my time. You want a f****** life? Go get it man...I ain't god...I ain't got time for' tha'.

I am more busy spending my time playing quiz up. Proving that my wisdom is beyond an American's is crucial, admitting defeat as an Indian in the spelling section is a hard no and laughing at begginers in the field is some what satisfying. To all those of you who answer randomly while playing...here is a big middle finger for wasting my precious time which I could have utilised crushing some unsuspecting nitwit at level 5. Muhahahaha!

What...screw you...I didn't ask you to read this.

Anyway, I got to get back and defeat some more unsuspecting quiz up players from around the world.

Seriously, they have no idea what is coming at them.

Blogging Out! Ain't nobody got time for that...ain't nobody...ain't nobody...ain't nobody got time for that.

Support the ain't nobody got time for that rap.

Or don't, who cares.

Ain't nobody got time for anything anyway!

The Aha 1.0.1

Has anybody yet received the aha or eureka moment on top of their toilet seat? I would like to believe I have. Some people have sleepless nights thinking about life...purpose and all that.

Honestly, sitting atop your throne for 1/2 an hour or more every day(depends if you're vegan, vegetarian, non vegetarian... I don't know, I am no poop doctor) is another feeling all together (unless you got to push...eesh!).

 Surrounded by your foul bowel stenches that incite your thoughts to fizzle and defrost after a good night's sleep or if you're like me...before you take a trip down surrealism.

I believe that some food items create stenches so strong that they resurrect your deceased mind after a long day or a long night. Of course, stenches like those are not meant for the weak hearted and therefore must be avoided to be let go off in public restrooms. I mean why share your gas of enlightenment with people who do not appreciate it.

Now, aha...yes, the gas of enlightenment. It awakens your senses and breathes into your mind the strength to read thoughts such as these on the internet. But that is nothing but mild gas.

The cocaine of this post is truly the good ol' dumpinstein. Dr. Dumpinstein...sometimes mistakenly called Dr. Dump In Style. The doctor is the true therapist. You see the great doctor is a specialist (probably, well versed in the theories given by Freud...who else is an intelligent sick f***k). Once you are well plopped in his psychiatrist rest you are in safe hands. Your thoughts seem to pour out.

My daily sessions with the doc are pretty kickass. I swear by it. I mean when in the world will I otherwise reveal my inner thoughts of how TV shows finds such awesome songs and whether or not flight MH 370 was consumed by a time warp that defies all of the physics I have learnt watching the Big Bang Theory.

I think I take a lot away from my sessions with the great doctor. It is as if he pulls out all the waste and negetivity from my body and helps my creative juices flow.
Sometimes, I think I might need the doctor more than once in the day. Of course the doctor is not always punctual now...sometimes he refuses to visit and sometimes he won't stop visiting. I think it is because of his two assistants Constipation and Diarrhea (seriously, something's just have such fancy arse names). I mean imagine them being knighted Sir Constipation of Leaveusdam and Dame Diarrhoea of Pleasestopville both ruling a country call Flushingdom.Yet never in harmony with the good town folk each visiting on and off whenever they like to return from whatever hell hole they have been leaving in.

Anyway, sometimes I cheat on the doctor and visit a masseuse called Showerella, she has the best thoughts on what I should do with my life. I am always so refreshed after I see her every morning (for all those who do not shower...you stink...literally).

Jokes apart...sometimes I have sessions with the doctor after my showers...those aren't very pleasant. Well, because I am forever struggling and trying to get another appointment.

However, when the doctor visits, you go. And I mean it...you go. Because holding in waste and negativity is so pointless...even if it is after a shower.

Anyway, I think I have spent enough time typing this on my phone over the seat.

Good session Doc!

Bored 1.0.1

Honestly, sometimes I feel like saying...what else is there to do? Why am I so bored? I am sure that is one question you won't find an appropriate answer to on yahoo answers or might get bored searching for it. Yeah, judge all you want...but at least I tried solving it. I mean it's not like that medical site has any answers either. If it did, I might have diagnosed myself as mentally disturbed by now. This however has been done in countless other situations with several other symptoms...which in your best interest should be left unsaid.

An anwserless question isn't it. I mean why the f*** am I so bored? I have everything necessary to banish boredom back to the devil's navel or whatever. I even paid good money to get f***king 3G didn't I? Where is your god now huh...bloody internet?

I have always considered myself to be a smart thinking individual. I probably need to reconsider...I mean a smart thinking individual would probably be looking for the origin of the word bored...which I still have not bothered to do inspite of its crucial role in my vast and gifted vocabulary. Bazinga! Not.

God save me...I am drowning in bitter boredom because my parents plan on being German soldiers and declare that their rule shall not be questioned and that electricity is saved by my family after 10:30.

This blog is so pointless. So pointless...I mean what is the point of reading this...in case you are...you might be way more bored than my current helpless self. However, stop reading this shit...( please, you do not want to read the rotten workings of a pitiful girl who seems to have nothing better to do at midnight). I mean I am so bored that I have already checked the 9gag fresh and hot page...thrice...in the past one hour.

Eh; I guess I am bored doing this as well. Whatever...you should probably stop reading crap like this on the internet...it will rot your mind and I most certainly do not want to be held responsible for rubbish about how you just can't get off the internet because you were reading about some mental chick who wants to crib.

Go do something else man. I am serious!

Shut up brain, stop telling the minuscule number internet populus who happened to stumble upon this nonsense to leave!

A monologue with my brain...I do that sometimes.

God, save me from this boredamnation.


Sincerely
I hope this is not some sort of secret hell...it is not fun.