bobbiwib’s blog

I haven't been on Vox in literally months, but am in an attacking/ pensive blogging mood.

People who are allowed to carry guns presumably undergo some sort of screening to ensure that - at least up until they are handed the weapon - they are almost certainly not gun-toting-maniac material. I think - in my closed-minded, adolescent, amiably hysterical fashion - there should be more to it.
If somebody is allowed to carry a weapon, they should at least know how to look after it - someone who carries a dirty, rusty weapon clearly does not appreciate it, does not respect it, and what it can do. Maybe these days guns are designed to intimidate rather than to injure or kill, but they were not originally created just to be displayed. If I had a gun, I'd polish it, keep it the colour it was when I got it, and always slightly mistrust it (I'm not sure the last one should apply to anyone in a position of responsibility though.)

At Ciancino Airport there were a lot of dirty guns, sticking out of side-pockets and bouncing, rust glinting, bent sights hinting at what horrible tragedies could occur were the owners to attempt to use those sights. For them, the possession of weapons was a completely natural thing; a boring, commonplace, everyday piece of paraphernalia that might nevertheless come in handy once every few days, like a tipex.
The difference being, of course, that tipex can be scratched off if you afterwards decide you've put it in the wrong place. The similarity, I suppose, being that they're both designed to solve/ erase little problems and not so little problems.
Well, there was a real, coherent argument here a few hours ago, at the airport itself, but now I'm tired and all I seem capable of is a string of high-handed and pretentious 'literary devices'.
And that was my thought on guns.
I'm home, by the way (I was in Italy :]  )
I was all set to go and dance in the rain (mbuki-mvuki) but unfortunately, the rain was more wet and drizzly and slightly less wholesome and inspiring.
Bye world.

A tangy taste to the air: the worms are marching to war.
Bazooki goes off without warning in the wrong direction, and your partner falls beside you. Final words: 'Traitor'. Maybe 'stoopid' if you manage to hurt yourself at the same time; that at least spares you the guilt of the T-word..
You don't know where the voices come from; they almost seem to be spoken through you, not by you.. you're certain you wouldn't actually LAUGH as the opposing army shattered into nothing more than the earth they came from.. though of course, it doesn't matter because by the next day your whole platoon is up and worming once more.
You'll know that, later.. you knew it this morning! But now all there is is the battle, and the fear.
The final tactic is one you stole from watching the humans. Funny little things really; instead of fighting their own battles they post the names of people they don't like over the heads of the opposite team.. and blow them up instead.
Well, good for them, I suppose..
Time to ape them they way they want you to. Call it worship if you like - they probably would. The power, exerted over creatures of a different species. Pit them against each other, watch them destroy each other at your command for the feeling of superiority. I own you. Jump for me - how high sir? As high as you can, as far as you can, with all your strength and the strange little 'hup-hup' noise that comes out of your mouth the way 'Hiiiii-YUken' does when you practice your twee little wormy kung-fu thing..
And if all else fails.. you know you can just launch Sudden Death and hide; practice prodding the wall to block out the sound as platoons fight over the two Teleport keys.. two per team of four. You almost want to scream the existance of Ninja Rope at them.. but you can't.
Because when you try, all that comes out is 'heheheheheh'
Don't cry, eat an apple, change your moustache. The favourite pastime of a particular worm.. watch that one, human child. Keep an eye on her.
Keep an eye on all of us.
Watch over us in the war. And stop killing my friends just to see what effect the Super Banana Bomb has in an enclosed space.

This is ridiculous, I realised about twenty minutes ago. Everything, anything, life. Me. I'm nearly seventeen for goodness' sake!! Which I'm looking forward to; being sixteen has been a wild hazy mass/ mess and I never felt as though I'd progressed beyond fifteen anyway. This will be different.

Half of it is going to be a Carrie, and the other half is going to be My Name Is Earl, only without the sugarcoating. And that will be VERY interesting because it seems on the surface to be a confused combination of contradictions-in-terms (I REFUSE to use the work oxymoron) it in fact makes perfect sense in my head. Okay. I'm playin How to Save a Life, by the Fray. One of the many *Shoe* songs. Or maybe it's a Lesley song. And that whole thing, surprisingly enough, is a situation I've completely and utterly come to terms with! And the strange thing is that it really did only hit me last week, even though as far as I was concerned I'd already dealt with it in my own way and.. maybe not moved on.. but I was fine. I was coping! (Well that's just a downright lie but at the time I actually half believed it was true)..
But now.. that's dealt with. It hurt, and it hurts, and everybody knows, and everybody knows it hurts, and I was shocked at myself when I realised that somehow the latter is the worst to me!! 'Cause I can go along in my head not even aware that there's anything happening outside it, and then I look round and I can see it all mirrorred wow i cant spell in their faces, and that tends to disrupt the balance very slightly... and then I do stupid, stupid things. Or drink. Yes. That I should give some sort of half-baked explanation for as well.. because I reckon I do drink too much, but at the same time I smoke too much and take too many drugs (don't worry, nearly all of them are prescribed) and I dwell on things too much, and I.. *go emo* too much and I think far too bloody much, and when I'm drinking I'm not doing any of the other stuff and I'm feeling a bit happy, and that may be absolutely terrible and something I should do something about, but.. really, why??? I highly doubt I'm gonna be one of those little old ladies on their deathbed saying oh if only Id cut back on the G&Ts when I was sixteen.. and Im not going to be one of those miserable old women who never leave the pub and do nothing but drink, I'll be the one sitting opposite drawing and reading and writing and composing music on the kazoo, and that, my friend, is good enough for me..
Moving on.. (new song, new sentiment) 
Aha, yes. You.y-thehell-ou. Nope, even in my big heart-spilling-open-to-whoever-the-hell-wants-to-read-it-on-all-the-blogs-ive-ever-kept-blog.. I can't say your name, that can be my final mark of grudging respect to you.. and there are.. perhaps two people in the world who have no idea that there was ever an Us, which is actually quite interesting because if the two of them could get over themselves enough to pay attention I think they would both be VERY interested to hear about it..
Well, I'm not doing the NotCaring thing any more. That you overreact totally to anything I say that might indicate I don't necessarily want you to DIE.. because I DO care for goodness' sake of course I do I bloody well want James to be happy and despite the hilariously large number of similarities twixt ye and he, you are still (and Lord how I loooathe myself for it!!!) wayy higher up my personal pecking order than him.. But you don't deserve to be as high up as you are; you're lucky, whenever you try comforting me you're so bad at it it's so horrendous it's endearing and I go away remembering that I did feel better afterwards.. But that then afterwards to tend to tell such truly innocent parties as Gavin all about how I was kicking up a colossal fuss, complete with hissy fit (o yes because my outrageous hissy fits are known far and wide :s ).. that detracts slightly from the sweet bumbling worried friend who tries SO hard, BUT, aha, and here's the catch, every time I'm also fool enough and generous enough to comment on your tact, thank you profusely for your understanding and appreciation..
Which you put down on your Long List of Reasons Why I'm Awesome.
Oh the delicious irony.
Eugh well now I'm exhausted, cut off from everyone pretty much as the delicious irony continues: AlexM is the only person online/ on IRC and I did actually try saying hi and the computer crashed. Immediately. Which was quite interesting..
And by the time I got back on and ventured back on to IRC it kept BLOODY well going on about how it was G-lined and it wouldn't let me on.
¬¬
Oh, ICR just signed in and is probably on IRC, and the whole ircicr thing REALLY confuses me and AGGHH I hate that I can get confused by two slightly similar acronyms..
This really was not much of a *coming clean* email.. Nothing I havnt sortof said before but with a slightly different, revolutionary angle. I'm nearly seventeen. And I'm going to graciously allow stuff to bother me! And people I've Wronged.. I'm going to try and set it right, all of them, including the one that just signed in.. And I'm NOT saying who that is!
And people who I havn't wronged when I've had every right to? Well.. I think I might stick with that.. don't want to change all at once..
Well, good old Emily's come through once again and actually made a decision, the box social will be me, Andremily, Julian, Windows and Gavin. Spot the missing puzzle piece, hmm..
Actually, 'tis a shame Tom won't be there there's a drinking game in my book that he'd love (and Julian would loathe): basically everyone goes round in a circle saying "Bernard" on a monotone, slowly getting louder and louder, and the person who can't go louder than the last person has to drink.. 
Anyway.
I'm managing not to talk about anything that matters to me, which was the opposite of what this was supposed to achieve. Because you can start off typing any old crap but then you go back and think oh no I cant have that in, and so much of it is/ was just self-indulgent ramblings which I've always detested in such things.. so I should go, really, except that I really
really
really
don't want to go to bed
: ( 

Congrats - TIME Magazine voted you "Person of the Year"!  What's your acceptance speech?

Ooh, er?

o_O
I didn't actually mean to click on this link!!
Which is actually a pretty damn good (metaphor? I dunno, obviously spend my English lessons thinking about tartare sauce and so cannot concentrate!) thingie for this question
ie., never EVER allow me to win such an award, as my acceptance speech will ensure TIME Magazine dies a horrible shameful death..
Ahem.
Well, err, I'd thank my family. And my friends. And God. And.. COOKIE! ^_^
But 'tis not the way I work!! I think in terms of book dedications, and obviously depends what the book is about who I dedicate it to..
However, on the list are various teachers who (worshipped me heheh) supported me in my studies, and, well, COOKIE!

Cookie

Indeed.

Oh well, sorry to bore you thusly, haha if you want to read other posts in your neighbourhood you will first have to scroll down past mine and this enticing image of cookie will lure you into reading my absolute rubbish.

Messages of love/ indications that you have actually read my absolute gaaarbage will OFCOURSE be rewarded in book dedications, by the way ; ]
May I be so bold as to suggest cash, as I have been known to forget to cash cheques

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
And to all, a good night
And remember,
Make Ads, Not War!
^_^

Once again.
Welllllllllll, have decided that as cannot beat insomnia, will embrace it, use it to fuel my sudden and newfound love for coffee which will in turn make me feel happy, jittery, alive, jittery, and... I'm sorry, did I already say that????? Can't look back as am drinking COFFEEEEEE!
My official line is, I am officially now officially asexual. This will get me out of EVVVVVERYTHING!!!! Well, what would really get me out of everything is, I dunno, a horror movie type thing where everybody scatters and the police station burns down and orpington college falls over (well, come on, it's going to happen sooner or later!!!) and in the ensuing panic I stow away on a ship and get myself discovered and thrown overboard somewhere near a small deserted tropical island, where I shall become One with nature etc and then get discovered and arrested for trespassing... probably.
In all honesty I am very good at thinking ahead, but the planning ahead aspect has always eluded me.
Typing, Typing..
Because the alternative is going to bed and lying awake all night.
Typing, Typing..
But I have nothing to say!!!!!! Just a sort of one shouldered shrug, indicating that such things as the floor, the ceiling, and a point three inches to the left of your face may be full of quiet interest. Having studied it at great length. Whoever the *you* in question might be - over the past 16, nearly 17 years I think I've carefully examined the wall behind peoples' heads while talking to them way too much.
*yawns*
am not going to go to bed. Am going to stay up until I'm exhausted, and then try and go to bed.
I just went up to my room and it smells of CAT
More specifically, it smells of Jimbo.

At first the whole "sam asking to be called the same name as my cat" (clumsily put but oh well, Lynne is my teacher what d'you expect??) was kinda sweet nd funny.
Now 'tis just annoying and confusing. Yes, I am too easily confused. But I refuse point blank to change the name of my cat.
So.
There.

Ah, I'm going to bed.

What is your pet peeve, the one thing which really drives you mad? 
Submitted by Beki.  

Well. At the risk of sounding emo, I'd have to say.. me. The way I react to things, the way I try desperately to control my emotions, get mad at people if they can see through that, get mad at people if they can't, get mad at myself for the emotions themselves. Today was quite simply one of the worst days of my life, it wasn't so much that anything particular happened (aside from getting hit by a bus, but will tell you later) but lots of things I've been suppressing suddenly became hugely real and I did that thing in films where somebody looks in a mirror and screams and the mirror contorts and then smashes and... well to be honest I've never seen that in a  film, but it's a pretty good metaphor. Ahem, to be honest the only thing I can think of to describe the strange revelation of today was something Simon Pegg says in Spaced, and I really don't think I want to draw the parallel as.. oh I won't go there lol people will get the wrong idea..
But it's true. It's like walking in on yourself. Lit. translation: "what the hell am i doing??"

I'm trying to remember how this was connected to me being my pet peeve. Oh yeah, today. I just wanted to be able to tell people, explain how I was feeling and everything that's happened and all about, well everything, and I couldn't!!!!! It was like back in the old days, when I had the stutter. Not the stutter of now, the stutter of Then, and trust me, if you had ever heard it then you'd know it deserves the capital T. It wasn't a matter of finding it hard to tell, eg. Gavinavin, who incidentally practically carried me back to college, carrying my red folder as well, went to tell Lynne I wasn't coming to English and bought me chips and fetched me ketchup and exploded stuff to make me smile after Jimbo ran off to Sam's house (if he wants to bloody well get thrown off the English course that's his lookout but he couldve helped me to the pavement first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) anyway, Michael cum Gavin cum Mike cum Colin cum Catboy II cum Mr GuinessMan, yes, we were on the 5th Floor (literally) and he said well we've got plenty of time so tell me what's up, and I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. Literally. I blocked quite well by suggesting I film him pole-dancing on my phone, but o it would have been a relief to tell somebody!!!!!!!

Anyway. I wonder if either of the whole two people in my neighbourhood are reading this?? If so, hello, and sorry, I've basically managed to turn this site into some twisted version of myspace *shudders*

It was only meant to be a couple of lines long. I'm just in a very procrastinaty mood and I can't procrastinate to anybody on msn.

If anybody IS reading this, ahem, I'm, er, going over to James' house some time next week for a sleepover while his Mum's away to watch scary movies and get drunk.
I thought it'd be a good idea to tell you over the internet, where concentrated superior matureness directed at me is mildly less potent.
And Andrew, if you're reading this - and Emily if you're reading this please carry my gratitude to him - thanku thanku thanku for your cunning distraction of James in the park today (lets all run over there and get our bags)

Lemon jelly - staunton lick

Well. I can just tell that this is going to be one of those things I update obsessively for about a week, and then stop looking at completely after that...
For that I apologise profusely.
Especially as I have nothing in particular to write; feeling huge amounts of randomized guilt and low amounts of bitchiness is not conjusive(?) to writing blogs..
I could do what ICR does and go into some great long smart-sounding thing. I could, but it wouldn't work!!
Ooooooh I know what I can do =D

We could've been anything we wanted to be
With all the talent we had
But we decided - a fact we take pride in -
We're the very best at being bad

Weellll I'm pretty sure I got it wrong.
Ohh well!

Bugsy Malone - Bad Guys

Anyhoo, behold: the extent of my boredom.
Bugsy Malone rocks though
Deny it not
You know what else rocks??????
Much as I dislike/ totally do not understand the concept of star wars, the Yoda birthday card in Clintons in the pinnacle of awesomeness "YOU HOPE THAT WHEN YOU MY AGE AS GOOD AS ME YOU LOOK, NO?"
James was not amused.
Neither were any of the people in the shop
Neither were any of the people anywhere within about a 5 mile radius; Yoda has one piercing voice for a green 'un, that he does!!
Especially on about the 30th time
Lol.
Rofl, I might go so far as to say.

Friends, comments, education, amusement:  what's been the best thing to happen to you on Vox so far?

Well that is an extrememly interesting question considering I've only been signed up for about seven minutes. I'd have to say about two minutes ago when my cat clawed his way up the inside of my trouser leg, and that was exceptionally interesting for the thousands of puns that instantly flitted through my head based around the fact that the cat in question was Jimbo and the jeans in question were the Jimbo jeans.
Anyway, my date awaits me (hugely delayed might I add - for those of you who know him I am talking to him on MSN and he is making dodgy jokes re fish and chips, beat that!!!)