Saturday, 11 July 2009
King King King King
As my chanting, repetitive and slightly confusing title put it, I am now the Priory Academy LSST 2009 Prom King! And fellow blogger Emma Bowles is, quite deservedly, Prom Queen! It just shows - blogging improves you as a human being.
It was flattering - and slightly befuddling - to hear that Emma and I won by a landslide. People who didn't know me were voting for me, which gives me a lovely warm glow in my stomach, like the feeling of the first swig of Ovaltine or Horlicks or hot chocolate or whatever your hot drink of choice trickling down your oesophagus and into your digestive tract. Jolly nice.
Apparently, people liked my campaign e-mail I sent round the school, which I only did as a bit of a lark; I noticed that people were either sending out silly, mock campaign e-mails or taking a really embarrassing photo of someone and e-mailing it with a fake campaign slogan. Nobody was really taking it seriously, but far worse in my opinion was the fact that none of these people sent a genuinely funny e-mail. I decided to do a polite but humorous campaign e-mail, to see if that would trump the stupid e-mails. And apparently, it did. So hurrah.
I got a crown and everything! Jolly nice it was, albeit a bit on the small side. It wasn't until about half an hour before the end of the prom that I realised that the crown size was adjustable. It fit much more snugly after that, which made the whole experience nicer.
It has been but one hour since the prom ended, and already I am dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, blogging. As the prom ended at midnight, I may be awake for quite some time to come. I may not even bother going to bed.
Good morning.
It was flattering - and slightly befuddling - to hear that Emma and I won by a landslide. People who didn't know me were voting for me, which gives me a lovely warm glow in my stomach, like the feeling of the first swig of Ovaltine or Horlicks or hot chocolate or whatever your hot drink of choice trickling down your oesophagus and into your digestive tract. Jolly nice.
Apparently, people liked my campaign e-mail I sent round the school, which I only did as a bit of a lark; I noticed that people were either sending out silly, mock campaign e-mails or taking a really embarrassing photo of someone and e-mailing it with a fake campaign slogan. Nobody was really taking it seriously, but far worse in my opinion was the fact that none of these people sent a genuinely funny e-mail. I decided to do a polite but humorous campaign e-mail, to see if that would trump the stupid e-mails. And apparently, it did. So hurrah.
I got a crown and everything! Jolly nice it was, albeit a bit on the small side. It wasn't until about half an hour before the end of the prom that I realised that the crown size was adjustable. It fit much more snugly after that, which made the whole experience nicer.
It has been but one hour since the prom ended, and already I am dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, blogging. As the prom ended at midnight, I may be awake for quite some time to come. I may not even bother going to bed.
Good morning.
Friday, 10 July 2009
Prom Prom Prom Prom
As my chanting, repetitive and slightly confusing title put it, I have a prom coming up. Tonight, in fact. For those of you who don't know what a prom is, it is a big social event at the end of the last official year of school where all the boys and girls dress up as penguins and lampshades respectively, and then eat, and maybe dance. Should be a lark. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
It just occurred to me that most of the followers of this blog will actually be at the prom tonight. Oh, wait, there's Mister Mahon. Well, I'll post up a prom update either tonight or tomorrow especially for you, John.
'Cause I'm nice like that.
Over and out.
It just occurred to me that most of the followers of this blog will actually be at the prom tonight. Oh, wait, there's Mister Mahon. Well, I'll post up a prom update either tonight or tomorrow especially for you, John.
'Cause I'm nice like that.
Over and out.
Monday, 6 July 2009
SteveWatch #1
Due to my insomnia and increasing awareness of an inner evil, I have decided to dedicate some blog entries to logging the appearances and developing knowledge I have of my alter ego, 'Steve'.
Steve is my repressed dark side. For unknown reasons, my dark side developed a malevolent sentience, and every now and again, he emerges from his mental prison and has some fun, using my body as a vehicle of sorts. Now originally, Steve went by my name, and through the greatest of good fortune only took over my body at moments unlikely to capture the attention of others. As my mind entered a sleep-like state during these invasions, I often returned to my physical form with no recollection of what happened during Steve's 'visits'. As a result, I was oblivious to his existence, and casually assumed my blackouts to be a side-effect of my frequent migraines (to which I am now sure these manifestations are linked, but in a different way - more on that later). My suspicions were ignited when I discovered a crudely-drawn picture, signed William Wivell, in the pictures section of my Facebook profile. I didn't know what to think.
About a day after that, one month ago, 'Steve' manifested during an actual Facebook session. He astonished and frightened numerous online friends with his contributions, such as lewd comments, and even a webcam photo of himself (I was relieved to see that his appearance was identical to mine; the transitions were simply mental, and that was a comfort). All of this being on my profile, I was able to revisit these contributions later. These contributions were the first pieces of useful information I could gather about my very own Mr Hyde.
'Steve' took his name from a friend of mine, a Mister John P. Mahon of Lincoln, who, for reasons known only to himself, worships a god called Steve. In an exclamation of surprise upon encountering my alter ego on Facebook, Mr Mahon made a comment similar to 'Oh, God', but with 'God' replaced by 'Steve'. Assuming that Mr Mahon was addressing him, my alter ego adopted the moniker, and Steve has been his name ever since. Fortunately, his appearances have died down, along with my migraines.
I write this blog entry because I recently stumbled upon a Word document on my computer that shook me to the core. It was in my folder, under the ominous title 'StEVE'. Although I was pretty sure who wrote this, the random switching between capitals and single-case type, a trademark style of Steve, was the factor that convinced me and also terrified me. I was unsure what to make of it, so I opened the document. Would it be a letter to me? A warning?
It was a warning. And I'm scared now. Here it is...
But that's not all. As you can see from the vertical scroll bar to the right of the screen, this document goes on for quite some time...
Twenty-four pages, size 8 type, repeating the same child-like but undeniably evil message: I want to come out now.
This concerns me for a number of reasons, the first being that if Steve tries to escape his mental captivity again, my migraines may resume; you see, I have come to the conclusion that my migraines, which started shortly before the blackouts, are caused through trauma to my brain, caused by Steve trying to break out and take over my body. During his brief but prolific chain of manifestations recently, he had clearly developed a knack for manifesting himself, so less effort was required on his part, and my migraines subsided.
I had hoped that the recent lack of both migraines and Steve meant that I was finally free. But apparently, I was wrong. That Word document was new. Two days old when I found it, yesterday. It seems that, through sheer willpower, I had generated a strong mental barrier stopping Steve from returning. This appears to have annoyed him a bit, and he wants out.
But how long can I hold out to his growing rage?
And how the bloody hell did he manage to type on my computer during this time?
I'll post up more info when I find some. This has been SteveWatch #1.
Steve is my repressed dark side. For unknown reasons, my dark side developed a malevolent sentience, and every now and again, he emerges from his mental prison and has some fun, using my body as a vehicle of sorts. Now originally, Steve went by my name, and through the greatest of good fortune only took over my body at moments unlikely to capture the attention of others. As my mind entered a sleep-like state during these invasions, I often returned to my physical form with no recollection of what happened during Steve's 'visits'. As a result, I was oblivious to his existence, and casually assumed my blackouts to be a side-effect of my frequent migraines (to which I am now sure these manifestations are linked, but in a different way - more on that later). My suspicions were ignited when I discovered a crudely-drawn picture, signed William Wivell, in the pictures section of my Facebook profile. I didn't know what to think.
About a day after that, one month ago, 'Steve' manifested during an actual Facebook session. He astonished and frightened numerous online friends with his contributions, such as lewd comments, and even a webcam photo of himself (I was relieved to see that his appearance was identical to mine; the transitions were simply mental, and that was a comfort). All of this being on my profile, I was able to revisit these contributions later. These contributions were the first pieces of useful information I could gather about my very own Mr Hyde.
'Steve' took his name from a friend of mine, a Mister John P. Mahon of Lincoln, who, for reasons known only to himself, worships a god called Steve. In an exclamation of surprise upon encountering my alter ego on Facebook, Mr Mahon made a comment similar to 'Oh, God', but with 'God' replaced by 'Steve'. Assuming that Mr Mahon was addressing him, my alter ego adopted the moniker, and Steve has been his name ever since. Fortunately, his appearances have died down, along with my migraines.
I write this blog entry because I recently stumbled upon a Word document on my computer that shook me to the core. It was in my folder, under the ominous title 'StEVE'. Although I was pretty sure who wrote this, the random switching between capitals and single-case type, a trademark style of Steve, was the factor that convinced me and also terrified me. I was unsure what to make of it, so I opened the document. Would it be a letter to me? A warning?
It was a warning. And I'm scared now. Here it is...
But that's not all. As you can see from the vertical scroll bar to the right of the screen, this document goes on for quite some time...
Twenty-four pages, size 8 type, repeating the same child-like but undeniably evil message: I want to come out now.
This concerns me for a number of reasons, the first being that if Steve tries to escape his mental captivity again, my migraines may resume; you see, I have come to the conclusion that my migraines, which started shortly before the blackouts, are caused through trauma to my brain, caused by Steve trying to break out and take over my body. During his brief but prolific chain of manifestations recently, he had clearly developed a knack for manifesting himself, so less effort was required on his part, and my migraines subsided.
I had hoped that the recent lack of both migraines and Steve meant that I was finally free. But apparently, I was wrong. That Word document was new. Two days old when I found it, yesterday. It seems that, through sheer willpower, I had generated a strong mental barrier stopping Steve from returning. This appears to have annoyed him a bit, and he wants out.
But how long can I hold out to his growing rage?
And how the bloody hell did he manage to type on my computer during this time?
I'll post up more info when I find some. This has been SteveWatch #1.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
Friday, 3 July 2009
Well, if Stephen says so...
I was casually browsing the Internet, looking up the chief food of the flamingo (as you do), when I happened upon this mention of Stephen Fry on Wikipedia. Surrounded by solid facts, this 'matter-of-fact' sentence seems to postulate the theory that the powers-that-be (by this I mean the random bloke that decided to contribute to the article) consider the word of Stephen Fry, a notorious intellect, to be itself a perfectly valid argument against a documented fact. How flattering that must be for him.
I decided that in order to preserve the visual impact of said sentence, I would not annotate the following screenprint. By finding it yourselves, the humour and unusualness of it should be as great as it was when I first stumbled across it.
I love the fact that his name is not even linked to the corresponding 'Stephen Fry' Wikipedia article - whoever wrote it appears to think that everybody knows of Stephen Fry.
As a fan of Fry's popular comedy quiz QI, I know that the fact in question was originally questioned on that show. I'm not sure whether that particular factoid arguing against the feeding methods of zoo-keepers was a personal contribution by Stephen himself, or just supplied by the researchers, but if I was Mr Fry, I would be extremely proud, albeit a bit selfish, about taking all the pride for a theory about the artificial colouring of wading birds.
Wivell out.
I decided that in order to preserve the visual impact of said sentence, I would not annotate the following screenprint. By finding it yourselves, the humour and unusualness of it should be as great as it was when I first stumbled across it.
I love the fact that his name is not even linked to the corresponding 'Stephen Fry' Wikipedia article - whoever wrote it appears to think that everybody knows of Stephen Fry.
As a fan of Fry's popular comedy quiz QI, I know that the fact in question was originally questioned on that show. I'm not sure whether that particular factoid arguing against the feeding methods of zoo-keepers was a personal contribution by Stephen himself, or just supplied by the researchers, but if I was Mr Fry, I would be extremely proud, albeit a bit selfish, about taking all the pride for a theory about the artificial colouring of wading birds.
Wivell out.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
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