nyeeaaaaahhhhhhh

I couldn't think of a title name. That's why nyeeaaaaaahhhhhh. I'm kind of blank at the moment.
Ok, Dad. You told me to blog more. I will try - I'll either get bored or forget by Wednesday - and I'll try not to just do pictures and Warcraft stuff. I haven't been on Warcraft in over a month now, anyway, and I am so so so near level 80. I need to level up my hunter, my mage, my warlock, my druid and my shaman (HINT HINT. A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat!).
My room is a mess right now. My laptop bag case thing is lying open across my bed - the quilt is all twisted on that too. And there's my almost finished bar of Milka on it too, along with my pyjamas and a large notebook. I'm not sure how it got there, it just is. The picture frames on the wall are probably skewiff too, but I can't tell. I get paranoid about that. One part of me is sure they're wonky, but then another part reminds me that I shouldn't trust myself since I'm having the kind of discussion which usually takes a few people, inside my own head. With several distinct personalities. The psychological one is writing now, actually. It likes to theorise about mysterious things; while on holiday, I actually discussed with myself if it was possible to unlock the full capacity of the human body, to create real superhuman strength - like that momentary adrenaline thing that lets mums throw trees off their kids, and makes your muscles contract powerfully enough to throw you across a room when you get an electric shock. Imagine being that strong ALL THE TIME.
Sorry, was away from the computer just now - not that you'd know, of course. Nana and Grandad were going home (we had an Easter roast dinner with Jewish-style lamb) so I had to go and say bye. Then Mum made me go and put the wine bottles and beer cans in the recycling. Und dann, me, my mum and Jim (my uncle) started talking about stuff, including the injections I will need for my upcoming trip to Japan. In June, apparently I need two, TWO injections to vaccinate me against Japanese ticborne encephalitis. I was already struggling to come to terms with having one. After the HPV vaccines I thought I was done, and I suppose I'd be alright in Tokyo and Kyoto, but since we're going to some country places like Oshima, the encephalitic tics are probably everywhere. I can't be sure, since looking up obscure life-threatening East-Asian insect borne illnesses isn't a particular hobby of mine.
I actually only decided to do a blog post now because I was watching House before. I actually watched one episode about Dr whats-her-name that has black hair (not the bisexual one) and then I watched the new Doctor Who (I'll get onto that later) and then I watched another House. The last one I watched was the one about the 'avid blogger' who blogs EVERYTHING that happens to her and suddenly develops a massive bruise on her face and starts bleeding from the mouth. I can't remember what the disease was that she turned out to have, but she had to have a pig's heart valve inserted because hers was busted, and some Singaporean guy who read her blog phoned up the hospital to ask if he could donate an organ for her. And also, House found an old porn video that has the ontologist (is it ontologist or oncologist? The cancer people, you know) as a wild, half-stag guy. It was quite funny. And then the Australian surgeon guy got really upset because he realised that people were more into his looks than his personality. House dared him to go speed dating and drop hsi accent and be a total bore, and he still came away from it with about twelve women leaving him their numbers - or whatever they do at the end of speed dating.
BBC Switch is on the radio at the moment. It's Annie Mac and Nick Grimshaw. I don't know if I've spelt both their names right. Don't care much either. They're talking about penguins and dreamign that they're Hayley Williamson (Lead singer of Paramore, and I don't think I've spelt her name right either). Oh, now they're talking about some guy called Rusco (yeah, don't know if I've got his name right either) who does dubstep. It's not too bad actually, considering that the dubsteppy beaty bit of dubstep freaks me out and reminds me of that old Beastie Boys video with the robots in that used to scare me witless. Kinda still does actually.
Doesn't it annoy you that there's no spellcheck on this thing? I lose my credibility as an annoying intellectual on the internet (in most international type places on the internet, if they know you're English and you don't talk in text language, it's kind of a prerequisite that you make obscure pointless points using long words, perfect grammar and references to people like Freud (he should be called Frood not Froid. The French people will have been calling him Monsieur Cold for ages now. Plus Frood is funny)) if I make spelling mistakes. But I can't tell until it's too late, since I have the bad habit of not proof-reading my stuff. I rely too much on the spellcheck things, though it gets really annoying when it thinks that the names I make up are wrong - even if it is just Vaseline spelt backwards. I spell stuff backwards when I'm writing my more surreal stuff, since Esenapa (Japanese without the J. I got it just now off my Japanese dictionary that's on my desk hiding my Heat magazine.) sounds like the kind of name that mythical people have. Nobody will ever know. Except people like me, who habitually spell random words backwards when they're reading, just to see if the author has the same habit.
Ewwww, whats- oh yeah, Paul Nutini (is it Paul or Paulo?) is on the radio. Singing. He sounds like he's drunk and has no teeth. Oh, good, he's gone now.
What shall I talk about now? I know I'm writing alot of rubbish, but I like to do that. I was writing my History assessment a few weeks back and got bored, so I went off on a pedantic tangent about something, and then deleted it all because I didn't like what I'd written.
So, Doctor Who. I had to go downstairs again to empty the dishwasher, and I remembered I'd mentioned him. I watched the episode today. I don't like the new music or the credits. It's just wrong, it's not Doctor Who. And what's with that stupid stainless-steel DW police box? It's like . . . . it's like something I knew the name of a moment a go but I can't remember. But I don't like the sign. And Matt Smith. WTF? And don't admonish me for that, I didn't ACTUALLY swear, I just wrote the first letter. He's so obviously copying David Tennant! Come on, he even looks like a playdough version with a bigger chin and smaller eyes. And he talks the same. His mannerisms are the same. He's like David Tennant, but just ... a shadow. Like a Netto discount version. And should there be kiss-o-grams on a kids' TV show? I mean yeah, adults watch it, but a large portion of the Doctor Who audience are kids.

I actually had to continue this today, since yesterday when I started this post, it was ten past eleven at night. I think it's finished now. Merci. I must now go and find food. Haven't eaten since one o'clock. *grumble grumble*