August 6, 2012

When I count three...

I am CJ Curry. This is the Experience. And, back in the days of your, yore all wrong with you're usage of "your", "yore" and "you're".


Coming up this season: we will pit Windows 7, Mac OS 10.5.8 and Xubuntu 12.04 against each other in a bitter round-robin grudge-match series of chess; we will discuss the finer points of yoghurt, freaky electronica and cooch grass; we will have a look back at the last four years in great in-depth detail, relapse and decide not to do it ever again.

One fine day. In two, the weakly. North west three.

I recently interviewed the aspects of my psyche, according to Freud, and here's what they had to say:

  1. THE EGO: Hey, CJ, I think it's time for you to get off Blogspot and go to sleep.
  2. THE ID: FuHUCK that. Sleep deprivation is awesome!
    THE EGO: You have to drive in the morning. Get some snooze.
    THE ID: You've done this before. Remember when you stayed up all night watching Evangelion?
    THE EGO: You also have to work. Work before pleasure!
    THE ID: But you're gonna feel so good when you finally go to sleep!
    THE EGO: Be responsible and go to sleep.
    THE ID: You only live once, bitch!
  3. THE SUPEREGO: This looks like a play. The Ego and The Id look like they're scripted characters playing the parts of the shoulder-angel and shoulder-devil, respectively. My part looks... not very much like a superego and more like a narrator. I think we should end this bizarre ritual here.
    [THE ID and THE EGO look at THE SUPEREGO.]
    THE SUPEREGO: Also, you sleep, you live longer and you get work done better tomorrow.
    THE ID: Piss off!
    THE EGO: [at the same time] Piss off!
    [THE SUPEREGO slinks off. THE ID and THE EGO are about to resume their argument, but they hear a loud roar. Both exit, pursued by a bear.]
Cricket stumps. Sides of a triangle. Amount of Sims games (currently) on the market, excluding expansion packs and "stuffpacks".

gasp gasp gasp
I should offer straws to people who've just run a marathon. They will be gasping at straws.

ring ring ring
What if Mr. Watson was in some kind of trouble, and required Alexander Graham's assistance? Mr. Watson would have been saved by a Bell.

hell hell hell
Mrs. Handbasket's daughter Helen was always a handful, and got even worse as she grew up. She therefore decided to nickname her Helena Handbasket.


uu uu uwa uwa
uu uu uwa uwa
uu uu uwa uwa


John and Jim were born on the same day, to the same mother, in the same hospital, within three minutes. They are not twins. Why not?

Alright, that's it. I'm actually off. Have fun, folks!



Anonymous said...

Okay, so, let's say Jim is the one born last. He is born on the 1/1/2012 at exactly 1pm in the afternoon. The reason they are not twins is because John could have been born on the 1/1/x where x represents a number less than 2012 but at 12.57pm.

Long story short-born on different years.

CJ Curry said...

Wrong. They were born *on the same day*, and *within three minutes*. Sorry, your argument doesn't hold up.

Miranda got it right on my Facebook page: they are triplets.

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