Treeglow Flicker

Milk, orange juice, 4 pack of Snickers, tube of Pringles and a washing up bowl to soak my feet in.

Visiting my neighbor and listening to her grandchild tell me about her toy rocking horse named Star, who was once a boy but is now a girl.

I'm a fire starter! Twisted fire starter!

My current preference right now is C# but that's because I'm currently using it for a game. I've used Ruby to a limited degree in the past and I've also used another language called gml. A couple of the others I've used while messing around with making game mods. The main approach I've seem to have taken with learning programming is to know what I want it to do and then search/learn what I need to make it possible. Then mess around with what I've learned to see what I can make it do on my own. Basically winging it.

I've used them before. The thing to keep in mind is that if you are lucky enough to succeed in contacting someone or something, you're letting a stranger into your home. Be a good host and be respectful to them. They're not a toy or a cheap bit of parlour entertainment. But if your guest is acting inappropriate, it's time for it to leave. And as it is a stranger, you don't know who they could be and the dead outnumber the living so you could end up with anyone or anything. There's one place that I really want to use a ouija board at. But unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever be able to considering I moved out of the house years ago. Can't exactly go back there and knock on their door. "Oh hey! Could I borrow my old bedroom for a couple of nights to try and contact something from beyond? Here! I brought a pineapple!"

Neither. Politicians in general are on my naughty list.

The operation of deploying a fresh bin liner. Also an honorable mention for emptying a vacuum cleaner compartment into a bin liner, only for it to spill on the outside of the bag despite opening the bag right up before emptying the compartment. Then you sweep up the spilt mess and go to empty the pan, only for the same thing to happen again! Bin liners and myself have a mutual hatred for eachother.

Fried chicken is good eatin'! Back in my teens when I was trapped in an awful electrician's apprenticeship, I used to meet up once a week with an old friend I knew from primary school at a shopping centre food court where we ordered a KFC bargain bucket. We'd just eat and talk until the bucket became empty and the cola was gone. I remember one time my friend turned up for one of our meetings drunk after an office christmas party. He was tired and didn't really know where he was, so I told him to go home and get some rest. I sat there, eating the left over fried chicken, watching my friend ascend the food court escalator in a swaying fashion, before faceplanting himself once he reached the top. Fried chicken is always better with entertainment I find.

I never received any special talk about it. It's one of those bits of knowledge that pretty much just appeared without any great feeling of realisation. Likely I'll be going the adoption route unless I can somehow grow or build a darling child of my own. And if I do somehow grow or build a child, that will require a completely different explanation on where they came from. I suppose I could just settle for a Chia Pet... But in the standard sense of how babies are made... I suppose I could just tell my darling child that: "When a mommy or daddy want a child, they find a human, hug its face and after a short span of time, a beautiful baby boy or girl bursts from their chest!" After that, my darling child should just give me a weird look and go back to trying to microwave their He-man action figures in the kitchen. Seriously though. It would depend on my child's perspective of things. The best explanation could lie with how they've come to know the world. Knowing my luck, I would probably have to resort to a crude demonstration using stuffed toys.

These classics. Attack of the Killer Tomatoes Return of the Killer Tomatoes Killer Tomatoes Strike Back Killer Tomatoes Eat France

There were a handful of times that I got in trouble during secondary school for doing absolutely nothing wrong. There were a couple of class detentions due to one or two morons misbehaving. Obviously the teachers who dished out those detentions came from some sort of bizarre society where they execute a murderer along the witnesses. Then there was another class detention given by our music teacher because apparently she didn't like our singing. But one of the big ones that really peeved me was when I was attending an afternoon French lesson. A boy from the upper year burst into the room announcing in front everyone that I was in deep trouble and that his teacher was really angry. I sat there thinking what the heck have I done? Out of curiosity and other threats of uncalled for trouble, I went with the boy to find out what hideous crime I had committed against the school. When I got to the science labs where the teacher was waiting to confront me about whatever crime I had committed, I discovered 5 other boys from my form. The science teacher began to yell and humiliate us in front of her class. Apparently, our names hadn't been marked down in the afternoon register. Thinking back after lunch when we were in our form room awaiting our form tutor to take afternoon registration, she never turned up. The other boys in the form marked their names in the register (against the rules to even touch any books belonging to the teacher). But myself and the other boys didn't, because we feared it would get us in trouble for tampering with the teacher's belongings. But silly me. I forgot that any sense of logic, rationality or enlightened thought were foreign and alien concepts in my school. So basically, I got humiliated in front of two classes, picked on by the other boys because "Duh-huh-huh! The goody two shoes got in trouble", had more fuel added to my already burning remains of self confidence and another mark of detention to mar my good name. All because a teacher wasn't there to do their job. Someday I will find a cure for the eternal loathing I have for that wretched excuse of a school and what it put me through.

I used to eat dinner with my mum and brother in the sitting room. We used to chat and watch TV while we ate. However, ever since my mum died last year, my brother and I eat alone seperately at different times. He cooks his own dinner and I cook mine. We could always have a conversation with my mum, but with just myself and my brother, I find it really difficult to strike up any kind of conversation with him. I mean we get along (when he's not being a contrarian such n' such), it's just the only thing we literally have in common is that we're half siblings who shared a mother. Outside of that, we really don't mesh. It would be even more awkward over dinner with just the two of us.

It's pretty much a hobby of mine.

I got Nightmare Moon. Time for the sun to set.

My birth date and time are November 22, 1983 9:00:00 PM GMT. Scorpio Sun and Gemini Moon.

Do you mind not standing on me. My hat's on fire.

I'm kind of already my own Rule 63. Being transgender and all. So I'll just go with a picture of Hazumu from Kashimashi.

For me it would be when they make a formal confession of love and I share the same feelings towards them. Or if I make a formal confession of love and they share the same feelings towards me. Dating for me is a process of getting to know someone with the potential of something more blooming. So dating alone wouldn't really count as a formal boyfriend/girlfriend relationship for me. There has to be solid emotional attachment and intimacy for it to reach that level.

Cold and tired. I should really be in bed right now.

Nope. Never been in the situations to warrant something like that being triggered. Save for a game of truth or dare during the final months of primary school. Our teacher of all people dared a girl to kiss me in front of the class. We stood there facing eachother for a good couple of minutes surrounded by classmates and the sound of giggling. Neither of us wanted to do the dare but there we stood anyway trying to figure out how it had come to this. She used to always pick on me and was pretty nasty towards me at times. Especially if I got something wrong. She used to always take joy in that. Of all people to end up in that situation with. Anyway. She was hesitating and I just stood there like an idiot wondering if she would actually go for it. Not really contemplating that it would be my first kiss if she went through with it. In the end, she chickened out and just blew me a kiss and that was the end of that. Now the memory lives in my vault of bizarre things to have happened to me in my lifetime.

My top three in no particular order... Coughing. Annoying as heck when you're trying to fall asleep. Vomiting. I've never managed to carry it off with any elegance at all and that feeling that it's about to happen is the worst. Runny nose. How much snot can a body hold? It gets annoying having to blow my nose every few seconds. Especially when trying to get to sleep.

I pet my computer mouse when I'm idle at my desk and lost in thought. So yeah I would.

Let's see now... A dark room A sofa A big comfy blanket and cushions Snacks Something entertaining to watch for a few hours Snuggles That should cover it.