SORRY, I SHAN’T UPDATE THIS BLOG ANY MORE.

IT REALLY IS A PITY, CONSIDERING ALL THE HARD WORK I’VE PUT INTO IT.

AGAIN, SORRY, MY CONSIDERATE READERS!

THANKS FOR READING MY [SOMEWHAT BORING] BLOG.

PS: I’VE A NEW BLOG, TO TAKE THE PLACE OF THIS ONE. IT’S HERE:

A RANDYR ONE NOW

I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.

— Mark Twain

One thing I did all this year without forgetting was writing 2010 instead of just 10. (I know, it sounds silly)

This year I shall finish that darn novel of mine. I’m on the fourth draft, for goodness’ sake!

I wonder why time flies so?

Click to view slideshow.

Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase. Just take the first step.

— Martin Luther King Jr.

I found that here.

I think it’s brown and orange together.

Via Wikimedia Commons

In front, a bed with a nose:

And, underneath it all:

The pink-nosed + brainless + lazy + handsome dog.

Endless II by Alexander Steinhof, on Flickr

No Painting by Alexander Steinhof on Flickr

Image by kevindooley via Flickr

An odd-looking beam of light shone down on the balcony, forming a perfect circle with a ring around it. It was a very strange hue, something like this. It was rather large, though not as large as the balcony. I took no special notice of it at that time. But towards the end of the day my cousin’s eyes became rather round and that was when it all began.

He asked me in a trembling voice whether I saw that ring.

I replied I did.

He turned a scared face to me. “Do you know what that means?”

I assured him I did not.

“It will transport you to my —”

He never finished that sentence for I stopped him halfway through it by hissing:

“THIS IS YOUR DOING? AND IT WILL TRANSPORT ME TO YOUR WHAT?”

When I hiss in that exasperated way, I suppose it is very unnerving, for people always have this curious look on their faces halfway between fright and desperation. I believe they think it would be better if I shrieked. Anyway, he had that look now.

“Please, please. It’ll take you to my — er — princedom.“

“Where is this princedom of yours?” I hissed. I could hardly believe this duffer of a cousin I had could be a prince.

He swallowed.

“Well?” I prompted in a very dangerous tone.

He was spared answering by the unannounced arrival of my mother. But I did not let go of him so easily. The next day I tracked him down in the library.

“About that princedom.” I said in the way of someone discussing the weather.

“Oh, that. Tunnel Four.”

“What?”

“Look in there, can’t ya?”

That was the annoying thing. He’d never tell me straight out. When I inspected Tunnel Four, there was a book there — Nova Mansion, our house’s name. I opened it, the first page almost disintegrating. There was a little bulge in the middle, and, sure enough, on page 54, there was a clue.

“Find the door with the black emmanell on it.”

Now, an emmanell is something like this, so that would be very easy indeed:

I found it before long. I had never noticed it before, and I wonder why. Anyway, on it was carved:

KICK DOWN TO GET AT THE GLORY WITHIN

That was rather cheesy, but I obeyed. And I was glad I did. For inside were undreamed-of treasures; I wish I had time to tell you what I found, but, alas, I don’t. Anyway, what I found there was terrifyingly, mysteriously delightful.

A blood-red beam, with a ring around it like the one in the balcony, shining through the ceiling.

I stepped on it, wondering if it was like the ones that come from UFOs’ bottoms. Nothing happened.

Undaunted, I snatched a tiny golden peacock with sapphires for eyes. And I was whisked away to the country in the clouds.

Image via Wikipedia

Hello again. I’ve been too busy to post these days. First, there was sports practice; second, projects; third, homework; fourth, this annoying book of mine clamoring to be written; and so on and so forth. Anyway, let’s get down to business:

I have discovered I Write Like. I did this while browsing MakeUseOf. It says on the website that it will:

Check which famous writer you write like with this statistical analysis tool, which analyzes your word choice and writing style and compares them with those of the famous writers.

I am not sure about its accuracy, for on my first try, it said:

On my third:

I am convinced my second try was the most accurate, for then I pasted my entire story into the box:

Image via Wikipedia

I won’t bore you with a description, ’cause a picture is worth more than a thousand words:

~    DOWNLOAD JVAC    ~

How annoying.

SCREECH. I look up from my book, carefully bookmarking my page first, and wonder where that came from. I realize it isn’t my imagination, it’s my computer. Stupid thing.

A thought suddenly pops into my head, wondering if it’s a joke. Shaking it away, I tiptoe into the Hall, where the computer was the last time I saw it. There sit my computer’s two other, more ignorant users, squabbling about who downloaded the thing that screeched. I’m noticed as I stand there, glaring at the two.
“What happened?” I manage to spit out, with badly concealed air of curiosity mingled with wrath.
“This idiot downloaded something. A virus, I reckon.” comes the reply.
“I figured that much out. What’re you doing to fix it?” I demand.
“‘Kaspersky’ something.”
“Kaspersky what?”
“I think you’d better help.”
I shuffle over to the sofa, collapse on it, hit my head on the wall in the process, swear and peer at the screen. “What did you do to my laptop?”
As though in answer to my question, it screeches again.

This is what happened the night before yesterday. I was simply furious. And this is a book lover’s bliss compared to a lesson in Literature: “The Killing.” It’s an excerpt from Hemingway’s “The old man and the sea,” though what is so good about it that the guy got a Nobel Prize for it? I fell asleep trying to listen to the teacher. Maybe I’ll get a Mac now, thanks to the virus!

Or I may not get a new computer at all. .