LFOW is the seventh hit when you google "People with Purple Beards".
I'm way groovy.
Monday, December 5, 2011
The Chillenos
I'm back in Santiago and the weather is rather marvellous. As is the food, wine and company, but for some reason I'm ridiculously conservative.
You see, los estudiantes here are on strike. Not having a protest, not camping out in the city-center having sex in tents and complaining about god knows what, but literally not going to class. They haven't been to class in six months. Normally I would be in support of such action, but the high school students are now striking as well. Also they throw rocks and downtown is always flooded with tear-gas.
From what I can understand with my limited spanglish and Mother's intelligent student-type friends that read a lot of Satre (I know, how retro!) is that the protests are really about wealth distribution, but also about a static class structure. I understand that it must be frustrating to be stuck in a public university that doesn't allow you to get a job to live north-side, but I just don't think that student striking is the way to go. Doesn't that sort of completely defeat the purpose? They're ceasing study in order to study.
Not sure what I would do differently, but it would involve less rocks, more peace and I'm guessing a wider-range of fun activities that involve alcohol.
You have to wonder why no one has heard of these fandangled strikes, don't you? Even so, if they were on the news in Melbourne I would probably be excited. Here I'm just frustrated that all the streets are closed and old, pretty buildings are sullied with graffiti.
More on hiking boots, ambassadors and cuicos. As well as the inside of a car, Harry Potter audiobooks and glaciers. Oh so many glaciers to come. I'll try to add some photos as well.
Ciao,
Evilboy.
You see, los estudiantes here are on strike. Not having a protest, not camping out in the city-center having sex in tents and complaining about god knows what, but literally not going to class. They haven't been to class in six months. Normally I would be in support of such action, but the high school students are now striking as well. Also they throw rocks and downtown is always flooded with tear-gas.
From what I can understand with my limited spanglish and Mother's intelligent student-type friends that read a lot of Satre (I know, how retro!) is that the protests are really about wealth distribution, but also about a static class structure. I understand that it must be frustrating to be stuck in a public university that doesn't allow you to get a job to live north-side, but I just don't think that student striking is the way to go. Doesn't that sort of completely defeat the purpose? They're ceasing study in order to study.
Not sure what I would do differently, but it would involve less rocks, more peace and I'm guessing a wider-range of fun activities that involve alcohol.
You have to wonder why no one has heard of these fandangled strikes, don't you? Even so, if they were on the news in Melbourne I would probably be excited. Here I'm just frustrated that all the streets are closed and old, pretty buildings are sullied with graffiti.
More on hiking boots, ambassadors and cuicos. As well as the inside of a car, Harry Potter audiobooks and glaciers. Oh so many glaciers to come. I'll try to add some photos as well.
Ciao,
Evilboy.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
New Love
Friends busy with uni/employment/life?
Moved back home and can't stand it?
Restrictions on how much you can drink during the day?
Waiting for more Parks and Recreation episodes?
Watch Party Down.
Moved back home and can't stand it?
Restrictions on how much you can drink during the day?
Waiting for more Parks and Recreation episodes?
Watch Party Down.
Or I dunno, go for a run or something, fatty.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Blonde, Bearded, Feminist.
Oh yeah. I give credit to the Linguist for this link:
Feminist Ryan Gosling
Except that after a good facebook stalk, I think I should be crediting a new LFOW character called Uni-Friend#1. I call her this because she is the first (of two) friends I have made through actual, real-life tutorial attendance (I even added her on facebook!). It was pretty tough, but I haven't failed any of my two whole subjects this semester due to tutorial attendance requirements. I have mad skills, it's pretty hard to keep up....
Expect more on Uni-Friend#2 later.
Feminist Ryan Gosling
Except that after a good facebook stalk, I think I should be crediting a new LFOW character called Uni-Friend#1. I call her this because she is the first (of two) friends I have made through actual, real-life tutorial attendance (I even added her on facebook!). It was pretty tough, but I haven't failed any of my two whole subjects this semester due to tutorial attendance requirements. I have mad skills, it's pretty hard to keep up....
Expect more on Uni-Friend#2 later.
For 'Anonymous'
I woke up thinking about the anonymous comment someone left about vomiting over my penis-dream. Instead of grossing you out, I thought I would share with you my bad-ass dream that left me feeling super powerful and ready to study Irigaray. NB// I'm going to embellish this dream. It will seem really detailed, but it actually wasn't I just thought I would add extra details for funsies.
It started out on a normal, boring weekend day. I was probably hungover, and lying on the couch with my little sister/friend. My little sister says to me 'OH SHIT! I totally forgot that I had tickets to Singapore for a few days. The flight leaves this afternoon and I have a spare ticket - wanna come???'.
I jump up and decide to come along. I don't even bother to pack, I just pick my hungover-night-ee-clad self and jump in a taxi to the airport. Next thing I know I am on a plane and we're scooting off to Singapore. There's hardly anyone else on the plane and the flight reminded me of this amazing trip I had from Auckland to Melbourne a few months ago in which I had four seats to myself and three really fluffy-proper-sized pillows. I was totally loving it and all the flight attendants were way nice. So basically life is fabulous and despite the fact that I'm wearing my dirty night-ee that smells vaguely of goon and body odour every one is being really nice to me.
BUT THEN I remembered that I forgot my passport!! I'm on a plane to Singapore in a night-ee and I don't have a fucking passport. How lame. So I start freaking out a bit. How did I even get onto this plane in the first place? Had we even organised accommodation? How am I going to explain how I got onto an international flight whilst evading immigration? Will they still let me into Singapore if I plead temporary insanity? Will special consideration help me?
I get off the plane and my dream jumps to me having a conversation with a flight attendant. She is way-nice and believes that I've just got myself into a hopeless situation. I ask her what will happen if I can fax my passport to her (in my dream you can fax passports apparently). She got me tea and said no, I couldn't fax my passport to her because it hasn't been stamped in Australia. On paper, I am still in Australia. It's all very stressful. So she pops me onto a plane home, except that the other flight attendants are way-mean and don't want to let me on the next plane. They want me to wait overnight. I'm totally not okay with this, and end up on the proper plane, where all the mean flight attendants won't give me water and food and there are no fluffy pillows.
In retrospect it kind of reminds me of the security breach at Sydney airport recently. It might not seem very fire-y, but I woke up feeling super-excited that I was grown-up enough to confront someone about my passport-nudity in a night-ee. Normally I would just freak out and avoid my problems. Also fluffy pillows are way fun. Fluffy pillows in dreams on airoplanes are even better.
Hope you're feeling less queasy Anonymous!
Evilboy.
It started out on a normal, boring weekend day. I was probably hungover, and lying on the couch with my little sister/friend. My little sister says to me 'OH SHIT! I totally forgot that I had tickets to Singapore for a few days. The flight leaves this afternoon and I have a spare ticket - wanna come???'.
I jump up and decide to come along. I don't even bother to pack, I just pick my hungover-night-ee-clad self and jump in a taxi to the airport. Next thing I know I am on a plane and we're scooting off to Singapore. There's hardly anyone else on the plane and the flight reminded me of this amazing trip I had from Auckland to Melbourne a few months ago in which I had four seats to myself and three really fluffy-proper-sized pillows. I was totally loving it and all the flight attendants were way nice. So basically life is fabulous and despite the fact that I'm wearing my dirty night-ee that smells vaguely of goon and body odour every one is being really nice to me.
BUT THEN I remembered that I forgot my passport!! I'm on a plane to Singapore in a night-ee and I don't have a fucking passport. How lame. So I start freaking out a bit. How did I even get onto this plane in the first place? Had we even organised accommodation? How am I going to explain how I got onto an international flight whilst evading immigration? Will they still let me into Singapore if I plead temporary insanity? Will special consideration help me?
I get off the plane and my dream jumps to me having a conversation with a flight attendant. She is way-nice and believes that I've just got myself into a hopeless situation. I ask her what will happen if I can fax my passport to her (in my dream you can fax passports apparently). She got me tea and said no, I couldn't fax my passport to her because it hasn't been stamped in Australia. On paper, I am still in Australia. It's all very stressful. So she pops me onto a plane home, except that the other flight attendants are way-mean and don't want to let me on the next plane. They want me to wait overnight. I'm totally not okay with this, and end up on the proper plane, where all the mean flight attendants won't give me water and food and there are no fluffy pillows.
In retrospect it kind of reminds me of the security breach at Sydney airport recently. It might not seem very fire-y, but I woke up feeling super-excited that I was grown-up enough to confront someone about my passport-nudity in a night-ee. Normally I would just freak out and avoid my problems. Also fluffy pillows are way fun. Fluffy pillows in dreams on airoplanes are even better.
Hope you're feeling less queasy Anonymous!
Evilboy.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Pearls of Wisdom
It's been a long time since I posted. To be honest, not much has happened but I figured I would exploit my position of power here to let you all in on some of my infallible wisdom...
1. When you're drunkenly attempting to pick-up, don't lean into people with your tongue sticking out and toward their mouths. I can assure you that you will not get the desired effect and even if the person you're attempting to woo/just make out with for fun does return your attempted kiss, it won't be pretty.
2. Instead of looking for love, try settling for some gangsta cred. The hoodie-clad boy handing you bag-less drugs will do.
3. Ron Weasley is by far the most attractive character in Harry Potter. Try dedicating your life to meeting him slash performing sexual acts for him.
4. If you want something from your family and friends claim to be heart broken. Money will flood in, and you won't have to make your own cup of tea or roll your own cigarette for at least four days.
5. When you've given up on your essays and have decided that it's not worth aiming for high marks, purchase some goon. Make sure that when you invite all of your friends over you tell them that you've nearly finished - this will allow you for a guilt-free night that ends in a satisfying vom and a long, hot shower.
6. Couches do belong in kitchens. Don't fight it.
7. If you run out of money before the weekend, call a sibling or close friend and propose that you share their money for a time. Don't let them know you're broke and spend your last eleven dollars on goon. Proceed as you would if you had given up on an essay.
8. Pay your debts on time.
9. Share all of your horrific dreams with everyone you come into contact with. I had a dream that I had a penis. It was extremely thin and had a bobby pin stuck under the top layer of skin - you could see the outline. I also dreamed that I was molesting a young girl. Dreams allow your life to be slightly more exciting without the guilt or disgust that would exist in the real world.
10. Get your tutors to like you. This just requires a few astute comments at the beginning and end of each tutorial. Lately mine has been something related to Irigaray. Try using the words scopophilic and post-colonial in the same sentence. For the purposes of gender studies throw in the names 'Judith Butler' or 'Toril Moi' or even 'Janice Raymond'.
11. Attempt to know everything about the seventeen year-old son that belongs to your idol. Not only does this provide an hour or two of internet-fun, but it makes you feel closer to them when you read/watch/listen to something they are in.
All of these things will keep you below the line of poverty, entertained and feeling slightly less alive than before.
Hope you didn't miss me too much,
Evilboy.
1. When you're drunkenly attempting to pick-up, don't lean into people with your tongue sticking out and toward their mouths. I can assure you that you will not get the desired effect and even if the person you're attempting to woo/just make out with for fun does return your attempted kiss, it won't be pretty.
2. Instead of looking for love, try settling for some gangsta cred. The hoodie-clad boy handing you bag-less drugs will do.
3. Ron Weasley is by far the most attractive character in Harry Potter. Try dedicating your life to meeting him slash performing sexual acts for him.
4. If you want something from your family and friends claim to be heart broken. Money will flood in, and you won't have to make your own cup of tea or roll your own cigarette for at least four days.
5. When you've given up on your essays and have decided that it's not worth aiming for high marks, purchase some goon. Make sure that when you invite all of your friends over you tell them that you've nearly finished - this will allow you for a guilt-free night that ends in a satisfying vom and a long, hot shower.
6. Couches do belong in kitchens. Don't fight it.
7. If you run out of money before the weekend, call a sibling or close friend and propose that you share their money for a time. Don't let them know you're broke and spend your last eleven dollars on goon. Proceed as you would if you had given up on an essay.
8. Pay your debts on time.
9. Share all of your horrific dreams with everyone you come into contact with. I had a dream that I had a penis. It was extremely thin and had a bobby pin stuck under the top layer of skin - you could see the outline. I also dreamed that I was molesting a young girl. Dreams allow your life to be slightly more exciting without the guilt or disgust that would exist in the real world.
10. Get your tutors to like you. This just requires a few astute comments at the beginning and end of each tutorial. Lately mine has been something related to Irigaray. Try using the words scopophilic and post-colonial in the same sentence. For the purposes of gender studies throw in the names 'Judith Butler' or 'Toril Moi' or even 'Janice Raymond'.
11. Attempt to know everything about the seventeen year-old son that belongs to your idol. Not only does this provide an hour or two of internet-fun, but it makes you feel closer to them when you read/watch/listen to something they are in.
All of these things will keep you below the line of poverty, entertained and feeling slightly less alive than before.
Hope you didn't miss me too much,
Evilboy.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Daddy Issues and Life Decisions
Reasons to live in London:
- It's not Australia
- English boys are cute
- Dad doesn't understand why I want to live there
Reasons not to live in London
- It's shit
- I haven't met any English boys
- There are too many Australians
Reasons to live in Berlin
- It's not Australia
- Way cheaper (my friend's bathroom is bigger than my bedroom in London)
- Kreuzberg hipsters shit on East London hipsters
Reasons not to live in Berlin
- German is a ridiculous language that I don't want to learn
- I would have to learn German
- Dad would be happy if I did
Monday, September 12, 2011
It's been a while since my last post. Here's what I have been busy with:
- Changing the face of social theory. It's a pretty huge task, but I have this dream in which all of my friends and I become the future theoretical gods of academia. We'll all sit around smoking cigarettes and talking about products of post-modernity and the death of theory and melancholia and shit. I think what will really happen is we'll find really average, un-thought-provoking ways of appropriating Jacques Lacan, or critiquing any form of analytical/rational philosophy that we can manage to read through without impaling ourselves. But I can still dream, can't I? I'm going to learn how to smoke cigars in preparation. Perhaps even consider who I'm going to marry in order to create a power-house of theory. Like Simone and Jean-Paul.
- In addition to smoking cigars and planning sexual encounters with dead French philosophers, I've been thinking about radical feminists. You see, they depress me - there are only so many conversations you can have about patriarchy before you get bored. Whatever - men beat women, rape isn't convicted nearly enough, sado-masochism is only a mode of internalising inequality, we should all stop enjoying phallic objects and encourage feathering and cunnilingus. I'm sick of talking about privilege. Sheila Greer has been harking on about how post-modernity is a theory only allowed to the privileged, and to be honest it probably is - but who is to say that I shouldn't harness my privilege in order to learn and adapt and consider separate modes of understanding our selves? I don't see the point of ignoring my own privilege in order to become what? A political activist, a social worker? An academic that continues to argue the same tirade of top-down oppression? What is wrong with entertaining the idea that power is more complicated than something that belongs, is dictated and harnessed by men?
- Smoking slightly too much marijuana and watching a lot of psychological thrillers. There aren't enough cinema essays written on thrillers as a genre.. or maybe I just haven't read them? I also watched all three Matrix movies in one sitting last weekend. That was a kick. Neo is probably one of my favorite characters of all time. So bad-ass. Neo, Elle from Legally Blonde, and Sam from the Lord of the Rings (so much hotter than Frodo. He's too meek). Oh, and Debbie from Queer as Folk, which leads me to the fourth thing I've been up to...
- Characterising my friends according to characters from Queer as Folk. You should try it out. It also works quite well for True Blood. I like to think that I'm a mix between Debbie and Pam from True Blood. I might go and find some trashy quizzes to consolidate this.
Hope you guys have been up to more exciting things than I!
Evilboy.
p.s: Hope you noticed the alliteration.
- Changing the face of social theory. It's a pretty huge task, but I have this dream in which all of my friends and I become the future theoretical gods of academia. We'll all sit around smoking cigarettes and talking about products of post-modernity and the death of theory and melancholia and shit. I think what will really happen is we'll find really average, un-thought-provoking ways of appropriating Jacques Lacan, or critiquing any form of analytical/rational philosophy that we can manage to read through without impaling ourselves. But I can still dream, can't I? I'm going to learn how to smoke cigars in preparation. Perhaps even consider who I'm going to marry in order to create a power-house of theory. Like Simone and Jean-Paul.
 |
| Lacan Looking Luscious |
 |
| Simone and Satre Sizzling |
- In addition to smoking cigars and planning sexual encounters with dead French philosophers, I've been thinking about radical feminists. You see, they depress me - there are only so many conversations you can have about patriarchy before you get bored. Whatever - men beat women, rape isn't convicted nearly enough, sado-masochism is only a mode of internalising inequality, we should all stop enjoying phallic objects and encourage feathering and cunnilingus. I'm sick of talking about privilege. Sheila Greer has been harking on about how post-modernity is a theory only allowed to the privileged, and to be honest it probably is - but who is to say that I shouldn't harness my privilege in order to learn and adapt and consider separate modes of understanding our selves? I don't see the point of ignoring my own privilege in order to become what? A political activist, a social worker? An academic that continues to argue the same tirade of top-down oppression? What is wrong with entertaining the idea that power is more complicated than something that belongs, is dictated and harnessed by men?
 | ||
| Feminism Fucking the Phallus |
 |
| Cunt-Conquering Cannibalism |
- Smoking slightly too much marijuana and watching a lot of psychological thrillers. There aren't enough cinema essays written on thrillers as a genre.. or maybe I just haven't read them? I also watched all three Matrix movies in one sitting last weekend. That was a kick. Neo is probably one of my favorite characters of all time. So bad-ass. Neo, Elle from Legally Blonde, and Sam from the Lord of the Rings (so much hotter than Frodo. He's too meek). Oh, and Debbie from Queer as Folk, which leads me to the fourth thing I've been up to...
- Characterising my friends according to characters from Queer as Folk. You should try it out. It also works quite well for True Blood. I like to think that I'm a mix between Debbie and Pam from True Blood. I might go and find some trashy quizzes to consolidate this.
Hope you guys have been up to more exciting things than I!
Evilboy.
p.s: Hope you noticed the alliteration.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Art of the Sext.
Recently I've been wondering how to construct the most rousing sexy text. For a while I was working with gardening analogies - you know, shovels and dirt and stuff. But I'm not sure if it's been particularly successful, here's a few between a friend and I. I was trying to scare her, because sometimes she gets embarrassed in gender studies classes when people talk about their sex lives...
Me: I want to penetrate you with a shovel
Friend: I'll use that shovel to dig you out.
Me: I'm dirty. You need to tie me up and force me to submit with your vibrating bullet.
Friend: Or worse. The Force of the Feather.
I don't think I was particularly successful at setting the mood. Firstly, I've never gardened in my life so I don't really know what it's all about. Secondly, I sense that fucking in a garden would be like a beach - except probably a bit more moist. Finally, perhaps sticking with the 'shovel/phallus' paradigm is a mistake, because lets face it - it sounds like something out of American Psycho, and no one wants to find Brett Easton Ellis on the other end of a sexy text message.
David Wygant gives a few tips on the sext. I've paraphrased them for you:
1. Make sure you've either had sex before, or talked about sex with each other before you start the hot-and-heavy words.
2. Go 'right past' the small talk. I'm not sure what he means by this, because most of my small talk does involve sex. Or sexualities, genders, trans people. How I've always wanted to have groupies. I think what he's saying is to not start the sext-adventure with 'how are you today?' or 'we're having chicken for dinner'.
3. Don't ever pressure anyone. I think he's trying to tell people to always keep things hypothetical: 'if you come over tonight', 'if you do that i might have to do this'.
He gives an abysmal example of some texts he shared with his ex-girlfriend. Check them out here. I needed to give away with this David-guy, because the first highlighted words on his bio are 'he's a regular guy', and no one wants a sext from a regular guy.
Having done away with David Wygant the 'dating coach' that fox news recommends, I'm left with just one question: should we be using analogies for penises and vaginas like in romantic/erotic fiction or is it better to go with a more literal approach?
Examples, anecdotes, suggestions? Let me know. While you think about it, maybe this will get you in the mood..
Evilboy.
Me: I want to penetrate you with a shovel
Friend: I'll use that shovel to dig you out.
Me: I'm dirty. You need to tie me up and force me to submit with your vibrating bullet.
Friend: Or worse. The Force of the Feather.
I don't think I was particularly successful at setting the mood. Firstly, I've never gardened in my life so I don't really know what it's all about. Secondly, I sense that fucking in a garden would be like a beach - except probably a bit more moist. Finally, perhaps sticking with the 'shovel/phallus' paradigm is a mistake, because lets face it - it sounds like something out of American Psycho, and no one wants to find Brett Easton Ellis on the other end of a sexy text message.
David Wygant gives a few tips on the sext. I've paraphrased them for you:
1. Make sure you've either had sex before, or talked about sex with each other before you start the hot-and-heavy words.
2. Go 'right past' the small talk. I'm not sure what he means by this, because most of my small talk does involve sex. Or sexualities, genders, trans people. How I've always wanted to have groupies. I think what he's saying is to not start the sext-adventure with 'how are you today?' or 'we're having chicken for dinner'.
3. Don't ever pressure anyone. I think he's trying to tell people to always keep things hypothetical: 'if you come over tonight', 'if you do that i might have to do this'.
He gives an abysmal example of some texts he shared with his ex-girlfriend. Check them out here. I needed to give away with this David-guy, because the first highlighted words on his bio are 'he's a regular guy', and no one wants a sext from a regular guy.
Having done away with David Wygant the 'dating coach' that fox news recommends, I'm left with just one question: should we be using analogies for penises and vaginas like in romantic/erotic fiction or is it better to go with a more literal approach?
Examples, anecdotes, suggestions? Let me know. While you think about it, maybe this will get you in the mood..
Evilboy.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Life back on track
One of my first posts here was about becoming the linch-pin of organised crime in the Brunswick area. Whilst I've yet to make any substantial deals with the local ruffians, I do live next door to suspected dealers and I have begun practicing my mad-skillz and intend to perform a hostile take-over of my tutorial. Here's what has conspired...
I have a gender-studies arch nemesis. We'll call her Sheila Greer - always talking about violence against women and other IAMWOMANHEARMEROAR atrocities. I'm not really into this business - I would much prefer to work away at an essay on True Blood, discuss why I want to bone Foucault's rotting corpse and name my first child after Judith Butler. Lets face it, drag makes for a better essay than patriarchy - so passe.
Anyway, Sheila Greer and I had a tutorial together last year and seemed fairly intent on arguing every point each other made. I seem to recall having a heated debate about niche porn and rape scenes. I have a penchent for rape-scenes - so visceral. They just seem to fall into an argument about horror films and post modernity. This is not to say I condone rape - obviously I do not, I just condone rape fantasies. I come across as less creepy that way.
Long story short we've made a pact to run our last gender studies tutorial as best as we can in order to silence our somewhat daft tutor who thinks that the term 'gender instability' has ambiguous political connotations (I know - what a cunt! How dare she have an opinion). So I figure I'm on my way to gangster-living because:
- I have organised a hostile take-over of someone else's domain.
- I have made a temporary peace agreement with my foe.
- It's all in the name of rendering someone incapable of work.
- There were witnesses. I have henchmen!
I'll leave you with this track. Whilst you listen to it, imagine me and Sheila Greer walking in slow motion towards the economics and commerce building of Melbourne uni with shot-guns in our pockets and stern faces. It all ends with an array of corpses in the G05 building near the water fountain at quarter past 5 next Wednesday afternoon.
Live in Fear of My Gender-Wrath!
Evilboy.
I have a gender-studies arch nemesis. We'll call her Sheila Greer - always talking about violence against women and other IAMWOMANHEARMEROAR atrocities. I'm not really into this business - I would much prefer to work away at an essay on True Blood, discuss why I want to bone Foucault's rotting corpse and name my first child after Judith Butler. Lets face it, drag makes for a better essay than patriarchy - so passe.
Anyway, Sheila Greer and I had a tutorial together last year and seemed fairly intent on arguing every point each other made. I seem to recall having a heated debate about niche porn and rape scenes. I have a penchent for rape-scenes - so visceral. They just seem to fall into an argument about horror films and post modernity. This is not to say I condone rape - obviously I do not, I just condone rape fantasies. I come across as less creepy that way.
Long story short we've made a pact to run our last gender studies tutorial as best as we can in order to silence our somewhat daft tutor who thinks that the term 'gender instability' has ambiguous political connotations (I know - what a cunt! How dare she have an opinion). So I figure I'm on my way to gangster-living because:
- I have organised a hostile take-over of someone else's domain.
- I have made a temporary peace agreement with my foe.
- It's all in the name of rendering someone incapable of work.
- There were witnesses. I have henchmen!
I'll leave you with this track. Whilst you listen to it, imagine me and Sheila Greer walking in slow motion towards the economics and commerce building of Melbourne uni with shot-guns in our pockets and stern faces. It all ends with an array of corpses in the G05 building near the water fountain at quarter past 5 next Wednesday afternoon.
Live in Fear of My Gender-Wrath!
Evilboy.
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