Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Blastoise With A Monocle: What You Need To Know And Why You Should Care About It.


If you're not worried, you should be. Mankind has, in the past, faced many trials and tribulations. Somehow, we've always managed to pull through and get to the other side, mostly okay. Now the time has come when we may just be facing our greatest challenge yet.

 

IT'S A BLASTOISE. WITH A MONOCLE. NUOH MY GODARCEUS.

You read that right, guys. A Blastoise has donned a monocle. Holy crap. It's wearing a monocle. On its eye. If we don't team up with this guy, like right now, we are so screwed. It will make all of our arguments invalid. All of them. Instantly. Forever. Just like that. 'Cause it's a Blastoise wearing a monocle.

I mean, not only is it a Blastoise, but it is also wearing a monocle. Stuff just doesn't get more real or more intense than this. This is as real as it gets. I know it might be hard to fully comprehend the gravity of this situation, but it's of vital importance that we all at least try.

Team Rocket knows the score.
For you see, this being has the power to own us all. Somewhere in between the monocle, hydro cannons and devilishly good looks if he does say so himself, Blastoise is the perfect ownage machine. Look at it. It's not even wearing a fedora, not using a pimp stick. It only has three fingers on each hand. And yet it is clear to any half intelligent person that sets eyes upon it that Blastoise is something amazing, possibly not of this world.

This, dear reader, is why we must befriend the Blastoise. Worship the Blastoise. Let the Blastoise know that we are aware of our own pathetic unworthiness in its glorious presence. We must show the Blastoise that we are on its monocle wearing side, supporting it in its undoubtably awesome endeavours, lest all our arguments be turned totally invalid.

We wouldn't want that, now would we?

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

The Girl With The Marvellous Hair.

Once upon a time, in the far off land of Melbourne, there was a young girl whose name was Rachel. She was a mere seven years old and attended primary school. Also, she was a princess fairy magic Powerpuff Girl, but that doesn't come into the story. You don't have to remember it, I just thought you should know.

As with most other school students, Rachel had to deal with school photos (which translates to school pictures in Americaspeak, or so I am told). This was not something she was that worried about. The camera would not dare to hurt or be mean to her. Added to this, she knew that with the skills of her magical mother, she would have the greatest hair in the school second grade land.

This left her with an important choice to make. Whatever she desired for her hair, her mother could make it so. This, she was certain of. But what she was not certain of was the style she wanted. 

Then, one day, in a flash of light, it came to her. She was playing pretend with her peasants friends, at the time. It was so simple! She said the idea to herself over and over again, willing herself not to forget it before she had a chance to tell her mother. Finally, 3:30pm came and she ran from the dark and evil confines of the primary school classroom to spread the great news.

She wanted, nay, needed to look like Sailor Moon.
 I think it turned out rather well, don't you?