Man Up

The fact that I am blogging less and less lately is absolutely not a good sign at all, I have been very very busy these days with headhunting runners and debating and what not. Adding in the my financial information systems homework that never seem to end, having 5 dogs to raise and having TV shows to catch, its a huge wonder where I just cannot find some time for myself.

Well, my hunt of runners is over now and its time for a short breather before I am heading off doing more head hunting, especially the ever elusive female co-host, you have to know that like 98% of the students in Swinburne Sarawak lack English skills, zero charisma and have serious fears in socializing with others outside of their social circle or one or two of the aforementioned three.

Also, I found out that they are also afraid of something so scary, so evil, so monumentally astoundingly shocking and dangerous that literally almost everyone in the lecture hall ran out in pure fear and adrenaline when the lecturer announced it.

What is it that was so terrifyingly scary?

Musical chairs.

I am not kidding, when the lecturer announced that they are playing muscial chairs and by musical chairs, I mean tossing a piece of stupid paper around and just writing stuff on a piece of paper and you ran to the hills like scalded dogs with a case of rabies on crack?

Oh, by the way the fastest ones are guys. Did I mention that most of the guys in Swinburne are pussies? Oh yes, they are big pure pussies or small, infertile, insignificant 2 inch dicks. All of them are the same, they act big, they talk big, they walk big, but when it comes to actually DO something... you can hear crickets or an omnious crowl of a lonely dark crow in the distance.

You see, my runners are basically my warriors, they will all be doing the heavy lifting during the debate competition and as runners as the word says, you will be doing a lot of running. I have 5 guys who volunteered, the rest all chickened out, or become recluse hermits like Guiliano. Speaking of Guiliano, Guiliano lets go shopping! Since you watch movies with old friends, then we go shopping, you cannot do everything with old friends you know, you must move forward! TOWARDS THE FUTURE, WHERE I AM STANDING.

Anyways, back to men being pussies. When I mean men, I do not include the prominent male members of the debate club, my beloved runners and future helpers of the debate club competition. I do however include those of you who have shit coloured hair, like girls who act stupid because you are too stupid yourself that is why you wanna act smart but actually are more stupid than smart because you are acting smart and not actually smart which means you are fake clever and not clever in the first place, therefore your fucked up theories of that was thought up by you are not smart but are actually misjudgments and fallacies of your pathetic brain whose size is as large as your two inch penis. Got it?

Whatever happened to the good old fashioned values of the men of the olden days... if there are good old fashioned valued men of the olden days, you know, a sense of duty and responsibility and not MOOCHING OF YOUR FRIEND WHEN YOU NEED HIM THE MOST AND THEN DUMPING HIM WHEN HE NEEDS YOU THE MOST.

Seriously, the guys of Swinburne (if you can call yourselves guys, I prefer pussyboys, or fuck objects) need to wake up and smell the fag in the air. Don't you know that this uni is a popular haven for homosexual prowlers?