crapL: My eyes!
L: courtnee
L: Christ, this page has given me a headache already
N: ARGH!
N: So. Many. Dots.
N: No. Punctuation. Brain. Dying. THE COLOURS, THE ENDLESS BRAIN MELTING COLOURS!
L: Help! The mutant swirly bubbly blue Burberry pattern is coming to get me!
N: Whoa. Dude. If you look at it in the right light, it makes me feel like I'm on acid.
L: Could be. But without the vague felling of enlightenment.
N: Yeah. Empty Acid.
L: Have I mentioned that I really hate this computer?
L: Especially the keyboard.
N: Has it eaten your babies?
L: Yes. It stole my unborn manbabies and tore them to pieces.
N: Grim man. And not in a frostbitten way.
N: I say we throw it out the window and stamp on it lots.
L: Wouldn't waste that time on it.
L: Anyway, the site.
N: Oh fair enough. Oh yeah, forgot. I was trying to blank the mutant from my delicate (hah) mind.
L: Know the feeling, but we must suffer for our art. When I say art, I am thinking more along the lines of Francis Bacon.
N: Mmm, bacon... What the hell does IDK mean anyway? I Drown Kittens?
L: I don't know. Could mean anything.
N: Oh wait. She's 13, that explains a lot.
L: I really love the writing style. It's like she has an incredibly short attention span, and whenever she gets distracted by anything two dots appear as a reflex action.
N: Could be. Or it could be those damn colonial schools failing to teach them English again.
L: Now that's not nice. They learn special English over there. That they learn in special schools. For special people.
N: Oh yeah, with the chimpanzees they're trying to get to rewrite the full works of Shakespeare.
L: She isn't even good at school either! She got sent the office!!! For talking!!! Do you think she pronounces the dots if she can't type them?
N: Hahah! Didn't see that bit. You'd think if they didn't want them to be able to talk they'd tear their tongues out or something. I want a trained chimp... Maybe I'll buy myself an American next payday.
N: Hang on, how do you pronounce a dot?
L: Like this: '.'
N: Clever, I see what y'did there. But I think you need a little inflection on the end. Like this: '.'.
N: Damnit, this keyboard doesn't have the floating full-stops like mine does.
L: That's only because the key on yours is loose.
N: Hmm. Alt doesn't seem to have *any* function on this keyboard. I hate having to use stupid university computers. I want my own internet back
L: "i changed my background!
yay! does everyone like itt? "
Goodness yes, we love it! It brings us so much bliss whenever we see it that our brains explode!
N: Hey, I wonder what'll happen if I turn the brightness of my monitor up? Will I reach a new plane of enlightenment and understanding? Or will my monitor explode?
N: OH GODS MY EYES!
L: pwn4d
L: But you knew what would happen. You only did it to prove what a masochist you are. Mutants: Norse is a very silly man and you should not follow his example.
N: I can't help it. The cleansing pain feels so good. It’s the mutants. They drive me to it. I see another fricking emo mutant and it makes me want to hurt. Well, specifically it makes me want to break them with my face. But whatever, close enough.
N: Not that this girls mindsay is *that* bad. There are redeeming features. Like the distinct lack of poetry. And the fact that the background is so mind-devouringly painful that it’s very easy to ignore the text unless you're really looking for it.
L: Which we are. What were those redeeming features again?
N: Umm. I forget. Oh yeah, she isn't emo! And she’s 13, so we can forgive a lot of things. Except the background. And the dots. And… umm… Whatever. She is a damn yankee though. Which is almost as bad. But at least she isn't French. Or Spanish. Or Italian. Or Mexican. Or Scottish. Or Welsh. Or fucking English. I hate them all. Bastards.
N: Or Cornish for that matter. Bunch of inbred shitsocks.
N: And don't get me started on the Channel Islands...
N: Mutants.
L: Christ no. The residents of those places makes the average mindsay user look like a sane, beautiful and eloquent individual.
N: Especially Jersey. All the worst parts of France, combined with all the worst parts of England.
L: You may well have noticed, mutants, that we have on many occasion in this post have completely ignored the actual blog. ‘Cos we really can’t bear to look at it.
N: For all we know or care, the person in this blog might be sane and normal. And decidedly not a mutant. On the other, no sane person would ever even begin to think about possibly starting to consider using that painful, painful background.
L: Sane? Normal? They have a fucking blog.
N: Point. Set. Match. Blog = Mutant. Yes, I see the irony. If anyone points it out again I'm going to tear off their nether regions and flush it down the bog.
N: You know, looking at this site through the wonder of nicotine, the colours make my head spin. I think I’m going to fuck off now.
Goodnight mutants, everywhere.
Norse
PS: To any French mutants out there, hah! 1-1 against Korea. That'll teach you not to be French.
(And 5 points total in Eurovision)
