I feel like a cold cup of tea...

You say it best... when you say nothing at all. 

Out of all my friends, I have been blogging the longest. 

Okay, I don't include Danny, because he blogged about laik... Singapore.

I have 47 followers and I blog for my own goddamn purpose. I truly am totally fed up at the people blaming fights on blogs. I've addressed it before, and I'll address it until people realize and shut the motherfuck up. Blogs do not cause fights. They just wimp up fights that would otherwise involve fists in real life. It's pathetic, whatever, we get it. I'm not blogging for you guys, I'm blogging for me and my international readers like the lovely Lulu and my cousin and Vic. Bottling things up leads for a reformation on someone, or an eruption of spite and anger and everything they ever hated about certain people. How can blogs be to blame? The people who write them are taking risks, as are the people who read them.. It's the people who cause the fights. It's damn childish to blame an imaginary floating segment on whatever's going on in your life. This isn't directed at Jonny or Keeva or Merissa...  It's directed at anyone who has ever blamed a blog for something that would've happened eventually; blog or no blog. This blog, ironically, isn't intended in starting a fight. If I weren't such a cowardly idiot, I'd say it to your faces. But I can't prevent the hundreds of trolls on the world wide web to their faces. 

Anywaaay, sorry about that long-winded rant. Needed to be said. Okay, I like to read other people's opinions on matters, and I respect them, so you gotta remember... this is just my opinion. When a person judges, it's their opinion. (: This week was doss in school. Still failing a lot. My parent's are all tense, tight, stressed. Over my schoolwork and the whole recessionary house sale. They keep saying 'the reason I do bad is because I make no effort'. Effort is trying, right? Or am I wrong. I was always under the impression that effort was attempting. I guess my parents want perfection. My sister rolls perfection around on her hand. I kind of... strive and fail. Fuck it, I love them, but when they say stuff like that or act that way, I always mumble '4 more years...'! Some crazzzyyyy halloween party was to ensue. But I got grounded. Which is just so unfair and Jem will be like 'Grounded or "Grounded"' and I'll be like GROUNDED. I was so warmed up to the idea, I was like BRING ON THE FEST. But then I had to go and say 'goodnight' sarcastically. I don't think I'll bother with going outside this weekend. No point in it.. dare I say. People hardly noticed I'm gone, and if they do, it doesn't stop them at all. XD They prefer the psychotic evil bitch staying at home, finishing knitting her red scarf and doing homework and reading Pride & Prejudice. I'm growing quite fond of the book. Especially Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mmmmmm. Stupid Lizzy is all ignorant of him. If such grandeur and mystery wafted around a boy today, I'd be on him like an opposite-poled magnet. 

I haven't blogged from an actual Mac for a whole year. Or so. I'm on the family computer/pieceacrap. Because my laptop broke. I can't even tell my parents because I broke my camera, lost my ipod, broke my phone, lost my mom's umbrella, broke my wall etc. They'd literally kill me. Or ground me for ages. Which I wouldn't mind. 

Well, au revoir, mon petit chou.

LUCY

XOXO

Smile, they're all staring...

Success is having to worry
about every damn thing in the
world, except money...

-Johnny Cash





This is peculiar. It's a year since VicVic wrote her first blog and this is my 100th blog post. WOO. This symbolizes accomplishment for me. Most people consider accomplishment as something physical.. or a goal of some sort. This is an accomplishment for me because I a) managed to keep something intact for a long time and b) managed to let out my feelings without forcefully annoying people. Like how I underlined 'forcefully'? It's because this blog is incredibly annoying also but people can just trail their cursor riiighhhttt on up to the big red x in the corner which means they can piss off. It's the diet option. :)


I would like to kindly address the unkind commenters. Don't get me wrong, I love the commenters like Jemmy and Vic and Dani and Davey and Fionaaaa and all. But those little skanks that are too cowardly to put their goddamn name alongside their comments are just pesky. Not even annoying, just pesky. Because I don't get moved easily by people with stupid insights on how I am and how I live. My view on Sabrina.. okay, shouldn't have posted it online. But I do have a right to free speech and all. Sabrina is nowhere near fucking perfect, Mrs/Mr/It Smileyface Anonymous. Neither am I, neither are you, neither is anyone. Perfect is something we all strive for in vain, never reach it, and end up dejected because it's too far forward. Fuck off with your 'faggot' because if you bothered to read further than the first post you saw, you'd realize that I physically am a faggot. Boohoo, I like girls. Shock horror. Wouldn't be surprised if you homophobic plaster-cast excuses of human beings ended up being gay yourself. Fudge-packers or Rug-munchers. Lalalaaa. If I were you lonely, lifeless creature-type-things, I do this thing called 'Get A Life'... or maybe just 'Build A Bridge'. I don't have time for that type of inane shit. So be gone, moronic fuckfaces.


School, school, school; What can I say? Sucks hairy pussy. Third year is a mess already. I've gotten 3 notes on different sections as it is, and it's 3 weeks into term. The homework comes in these god forsaken tidal waves of mass learning and pointless questions. When in our future lives will we ever need Irish Poetry, Algebraic expressions, Microbiological information and the ability to blanket-stitch? Unless we're all planning on being Irish/Maths/Science/Home-Ec teachers or microbiologists or..... under-paid Indonesian workers. I'm being a journalist; No questions asked. I don't care how I get the job or where I get the job. I'm just getting the job. I'll go to the worst college there is if I have to. I'm just doing journalism. Full Stop. I'm pretty sure I have the qualities of a journalist. I'm certainly inquisitive, to say the least. I'd be a crap journalist. Now that I think of it. I should have a back-up. Brothel; Fuck duh. Or just a waitress. Pie engineer. I could totally engineer pie. It can't be that hard. Base, crust, chocolate-fudge ripple teamed with ripe, luscious raspberries, covered over with a thin top and sprinkled with icing sugar. Hot out of the oven and passed to a customer. Orgasm. Now I'm damn hungry. That reminded me of 'Waitress'. Ever see that movie? I liked that movie. T'was goooooord.


I would like to bear an apology for not posting over the past 3 days. I was grounded from my laptop. I swear to god, they ground me from it if I accidentally slam the door because the window was wide open or something. My mom once grounded me for dropping a piece of plastic on the floor of her car. Accidentally. And it wasn't dirty plastic or nothing, it was plastic from the front of a brand new Wii game. Grrrraawwrrr. Sigh. Gaa and youth club on Friday. Don't know which to go for. On one hand, the Gaa is sweaty & horrible accompanied by that utter shit dance-trance music that's so annoying. On the other hand, it's fun to be out with friends til late, pounding to strobe dancing and making out randomly to my heart's content. But I feel like I'd be betraying youth club and all, even in all it's boringosity. If I go youth club, I'll end up totes third-wheeling on Chrissa and Miss. And that would be crap. But if I go gaa, I'll have to shave my legs and put on fake tan, not to mention wear something incredulously short and 6 inch high heels. Decisions, decisions, decisions.



I'mma go check my online accys now. New Twitter terms of use, according to my email. I'll talk to yas later. Toodle-doo.

LUCY
XOXO

• Bored
  
• Jennifer's Body
• ACCESS Project
  

Mad Hatter had matter.

Random page from my.. 'thought book',
Decided to post random pages every once in a while.
Click to enlarge I think.
I don't know.
If it isn't, just zoom.



Look, look, oh dedicated ones.
New blog layout, as courtesy of PsycHo blogger generator.
It was one of the first links when I googled 'blogger layout generator' because everyone else's blogs are so damn clean cut so I needed it too. I decided to be faithful to blogger by keeping the nav. bar on it. I hate when people cut it from their site, it just pisses me off. It ruuuuuins their identification as a Blogspot user. Grr, boo you little nav. bar cutting whores. Yesterday's post was simply emo angst bratty whiny teenager and really, my life isn't as crapola as I make it out to be.

Erhaww, well, guess what? I didn't stay in and watch 'Let The Right One In'. I went outsiiiiide after chores. Becus' I am a good girl. Ask my mommy. I had a nice daaay, even if fahva (father, for you who do not understand english accents) ruined it all last minute. XD He really didn't, and I know he tries to be good and stuff but he fails a lawwwwt. Aha, I'm quite hyper-happy pink elephants right now, so not good for bloggedy blog time. I was so proud of the new layout that I needed to post. And yeah, um, I notice that the moosic player is in this post, but it's because I don't know where to put it with this new layout. o_o'



[EDIT: Actually, I put the musicmaker over there on the left and took it out of this post, ehm, yeah, sorry for le grande inconvenience..]




# - peace out girl scout... xox
Comment what you think of Sir Layout.

Evil attack of the simply villainous cows.

This butter tastes fattening...

Look, a moose!

Lucy here, oh tiny readers of the lost arc/ark/awrc/awrk.
Sorry for not posting like... alllllll weekend.
I suck monkey butt. *sad monkey-butt-sucking face*

I had a preetttyyyy cool weekend,
some pain on the whole spinal side,
a very whorish night and a quite memorable trek down my uncle's field.

Let's start with Friday....
Ahh.. Well, the GAA disco is a social event that occurs one Friday each month when school is on. It's held at the G.A.A (Gaelic Athletics Association)... to you worldwildly beings, a sport centre or local hall! XD

Well the GAA is THE major disco thingymabob in the whooooole of where I live... it's like the shit. Basically, it's just a hall with wood flooring and large windows. For the disco, they hire a DJ, strobe lights, & close off half of the hall. It's like a little party grotto. Well, most people go to the GAA with their friends for a laugh. The fake tan's out and the hair is poker straight or softly curled, extensions, fake nails, fake eyelashes, high heels. It's just a Barbie parade. Tiny little dresses, or little puffy skirts or tutu's or low neck tops with teeny tiny underpants-shorts. The main focus of the GAA is the meeting. Meeting is not what you think it is.

Lucy's Glossary Definition of Meeting:
----------------------------------------------
Meeting is the incredibly not passionate, unromantic act of throwing your arms around a randomer's neck and playing footsie with your tongue in the guys mouth while he feels your ass.

There is a game played regularly at the GAA called 'Beat The Slapper' or 'Beat The Slut'. The aim of the game is to... ehhh...beat the slut! XD You can play in groups or one on one and the winner is the person who has met the most people. The loser... they have the unfortunate fate or doing a pre-chosen dare. Popular amongst guys, one of the dares is to shave off an eyebrow... the girls usually play in teams of two and the team with the least meets have to meet eachother. Which wouldn't be so bad if it were America, but here, any form of any lesbian activity is held over your head for life, like a raincloud of some twisted sort.

Well, Friday night, I was playing beat the slapper against a girl in my class called Aoife. Our bet? Slap Gareth's ass. Gareth is Aoife's ex... so I was totally determined to win because of that reason, and he's not my cup of tea. ROFLCOPTER.

The game started up when I was asked to meet someone near the start of the gaa. 1, nil to me. Then it grew bigger as the night went on, final scores at 14-3 to me. To be entirely honest, I did feel pretty whorish. But I had wwonnnnnnnn *EPIC SUCCESS*. She refused to do the dare though because earlier on the night, I dropped my morals and went for old fashioned sabotage as I unhooked her bra and pulled it to her elbows whilst she was mid-snog. I still felt good for winning though.

Then there was m'Saturdaaaaay:
Saturday was my birthday 'gathering'. I just bought tonnes of random crap like Skittles and Doritos and Ben and Jerry's Baked Alaska... and then I rented out The Reaping and the original Bring It On (Bring It On sequels all sucked because they didn't have Kirsten Dunst and Valerie from Sabrina The Teenage Witch). Emo/Emma came over first and we chilleeeed and talked about the attack on msn from two certain people who always attack me on msn after I fight with one of the certain people. XD So I thought nobody else was coming but then Shelly and Buttons came, then Mia, then Debbbyyyyy and we ordered a 20" pizza in which I totally attempted 2 slices unsuccessfully. Here comes the memorable part....

It was my idea to go down the field. I mean, it was a nice day, Debby bought me bath bombs, and where better than to throw bath bombs than in the River Liffey? So we trotted along, and made our way to the river bank. There and then, disaster struck. The cows and cattle had been in the field for about a week, untamed. They started approaching and that's when we noticed they weren't ordinary cows. Buttons ran towards them which scared them backwards momentarily but then they started gaining their strength again, marching forward triumphant, heavy, big, easily stronger than 6 puny teenagers. The only thing near the river bank to escape to was a large tree with quite a small trunk. Me and Emma clung to it for our lives, people were climbing, but me and Emma were nearly dangling above the thrashing brown water. The evil demon cow stomped to the formost protrusion of the trunk. I was sweating, terrified. I was squealing and I almost saw my life flash before my eyes... slight exaggeration. I phoned my dad quickly, he came running with... a stick. XD Safe, right? Wrong! As soon as he begins to leave, I brandish the stick and walk tall towards their evil cruel leader. He starts again and I drop my weapon, scuttling back behind Emma and Mia.

After that, we got back safe to my house and ate ice-cream and played with my hula hoop thingy. I'll possibly NEVER forget the courageous battle of the cows.

Sunday.... Grandpeeps came over... it pretty much sucked 'cus I was forced to go to my sister's camogie match and I didn't have enough time to study. The match was 2 hours standing and by the end my back was total absolute torture, like hell, only more painful. Nurofen is my true saviour, I digress.

Today, Monday.
Nearly Summer...
So close to Summer.
4 Days of exams,
that I haven't studied for.
Shit.

And Ms Ferry is leaving too.
She was our year head, and at the end of year service today, there was this big presentation for her. Sarah Burke sung Time Of Your Life by Green Day... which I was so excited about! XD She was such an awesome singer and then some girl played acoustic guitar along with it. And then second year composed a choir which sang 'The Climb'... the Miley Cyrus hit from the Hannah Montana movie.

She's retiring, not deciding whether she'll be a Rockstar or a Normal Person...
Sheeeesh talk about irrelevance.


Well,
Lucy Lu has gotta swallow some more nurofen and then go pretend to study.
(EG/ Read some Meg Cabot and cry in jealousy about how false love stories are)

LUCYXOXO

Ps/
Check out the pictures and commeeeent.