Intelligence.

So today, as I was practicing the art of procrastination while I was supposed to be studying for my English exam, I decided to check my university email account - which I never do because it's full of useless spam and dumb adverts. But, because I was doing everything other than studying books, I thought, 'Hey! I haven't checked that in a long time, why not kill a few minutes with that?'

So I logged onto it with my high-tech, extremely complicated password (see, every other university student was given their ID number as their password, but me? No, I was special enough to recieve this crazy ass 10 digit compilation of lower case letters, numbers AND upper case letters. Lucky me!) to find tons of unread emails from way back in April 2010 - all spam, and all useless.

However, as I was nonchalantly scanning through the subject lines of these emails, because my mind was screaming at me, 'Anything but studying please!' I came across a subject line that tingled my nerves and make me hastily open the email to read further:
'FW: Picture Theives'

Now, because I'm a normal person living a basic and somewhat dull life with little-to-no vast excitement, I found it intriguing. Oooh, some theives on camera? How cool!
Also, because of the society to which I live in, I immediately imagined two men, dressed in all black, with balaclava's covering their faces. Oh, and gloves - you know, to prevent any fingerprints from being traced.

However, to my dismay, when I opened up the first picture of five (and three videos!), I see two individuals - one male and one female, in normal clothes. I was, admittedly, very disappointed.

And then, with my cynical mind at hand, I started to judge them.
Firstly, how dumb can you really be to not think of hiding your faces? Every person on the planet knows that universities, much like every other facility on the planet, invests in thousands of surveillence cameras. And, much to your pea-sized brain's knowledge, people are watching and recording copies of the surveillence footage all the time. I swear, I took a look at these videos that are attached to the email - at one point the girl is laughing, whilst, what looks like her talking on the phone, and looks directly at the camera. Like, "Smile! You're on candid camera!"
And, some other random university student walks right passed them! Can you imagine that scene right there?
Dumbass girl speaking on the phone just as the random dude walks passed: "Like, oh my word my friend you have no idea what I just did with my awesome boyfriend! We, like, totally stole a picture! In a frame! How cool are we?! No, girl, you shut up! Right? Soooo cool."

Secondly, you guys steal a picture? I mean, really? Of all the things your miniscule little mind can think of stealing is a picture? Really? Do you even realise the amount of valuables within university walls? And you steal a picture?

The intelligence of people these days really scares me.
Though, it did give me some entertainment during my, what was supposed, to be five minute email check and turned into thirty minute blog post.
I can only wonder where they decided to hang that picture...

You were that age, once.

So today, as I was going about my going about stuff, I came across a statement that struck a nerve. My little just-turned fifteen year-old not-really-cousin (my uncle, by blood, divorced my favourite aunt, and married this mistress he had an affair with, who already had two kids) had said:
  "Keening for tonight! Can't wait to table-dance!"

So first of all, I think, what the eff is "keening?"
And then I think, these youngsters and their silly lingo.
And then I think to myself, this girl is only fifteen years old, and she wants to dance on tables like a stripper?
Yes. I'm very judgemental.

Let me get one thing straight before I continue: I, too, can be regarded as a youngster. Yes, I am old enough to have a drink (or two or ten), and I am old enough to have a drivers licence, and I am old enough to dance on tables if I like - but I am not some old, wrinkly bat who has nothing better to do than rant about them youngsters and their raucous ways.
But this, what my "cousin" had said, really disgusted me.
It disgusted me, only because a mere few months ago, this very (then-fourteen-year-old) girl had informed me that she uses her admittedly-gorgeous legs to get into clubs.

I cannot comprehend what us legal-aged people could call someone like that. I mean, yes, we call underage kids that jam it at our clubs "twelve year olds," but a girl who (at the time) was only fourteen and was clubbing and drinking like she's eighteen?! Surely that's close to being called an eight year old.
She surely behaves like that.

I'm pretty sure her mother has no cooking clue that her "little angel" is going to big-girl parties and drinking big-girl drinks. And if she does know, then the words running through my mind right now would get me arrested.

I mean, the lack of responsibility in a fifteen year old girl is unbelievable - they just go to clubs to look cool and feel rebellious with a Brutal Fruit in their hands. They don't take into mind the actual dangers of clubbing - that is why there are age limits for entry into clubs. And the irresponsibility of the bouncer to let her in because of those legs! He, too, is asking for something wrong to happen to her.

So, because I have such a close relationship with my mother, I tell her these things, and after a slight expression of shock, she just looks blankly at me and shrugs, with a simple, "You were that age, once."

I guess I have no rebuttal to that, because I was that age once; and, at the age of fifteen, I went to my first club and drank my first self-purchased alcoholic drink. But I didn't use my body parts to get into clubs.

I guess I just feel protective of this not-really-a-family-member cousin of mine. This poor girl is going to look back on her life, and probably have thought, 'I should have waited until I was old enough.'
Or maybe not.
Maybe she'll just be stuck in this attention-craving attitude. 

Either way, its not my problem, and technically, I was that age once.

Social Network Humour.

So this is my first post, and I feel there there are a certain set of rules one has to follow in writing these types of things - it has to be funny, and it has to be intriguing. In saying that, I thought I would baptise this through writing about something that almost every human being submits their mindless soul to these days: Social Networks.

Just today, I saw a tweet on Facebook's first real competitor (Twitter) which I found rather interesting, and to quote it in a social-network-appropriate way:
"@funnyfacts_: Before Facebook, I had told maybe six people 'Happy Birthday,' ever."

Yes, of course it is funny. Because it is true.

Before the era of Facebook, status updates and wall posts, people carried around these amazingly useful things called diaries. What is that strange word that you have written there, you ask? I shall say it again: DIARIES! These, sometimes small, sometimes large books with paper in them, and each page had a date printed on it - no, not an event, an actual date that had been typed out and printed onto real paper which was bound to other paper onto hardcover material.

These books were very useful to people as they went about their day-to-day business: writing in important meeting dates, holiday time, and most importantly: birthdays.

Now, when I was a kid, before Facebook probably even existed, or wasn't as popular as it is today, I had probably written in my diary only my immediate family's birthdays: my brother's birthday, my mother's birthday and my dad's birthday - all of which were from my own memory. My parents would further remind me of my grandparent's birthdays, my aunt and uncle's birthdays and their children's birthdays. I would then take my special diary to school and ask only my closest friends when their birthdays were and would scribble them in my special paper-reminder-book (or, once I learned what my brain was used for, I would look through last year's diary and copy the birthday dates into the new diary, so it looked like I was clever and remembered everyone's birthdays by heart.

But now, we have this fancy little gadget called a laptop, or even a cell-phone - oh, excuse me, smartphone - which allows you to log on to the ever-so-important Facebook, which conveniently reminds you of everyone of your Facebook friends's birthdays - even the ones you know like-i mean know.

So now, we are stuck in this polite world where one can badmouth another person over a status and get away with it (I, too, am guilty of this in my younger years), and we find ourselves almost obliged to write on some birthday boy or girl's wall (which, might I add, is illegal to vandalise a wall), even if we don't know them better than an Eskimo living in the Antarctic.

But, (lo! and behold!) if you do not post on this almost-a-stranger's wall, to wish them an emotionless "Happy Birthday! Hope you have a great day!" you are instantly the enemy in their eyes. Because, well, we all know how important it is to have someone write on your wall. You are so not cool if you don't have people that write on your wall.

But, if you are one of those people who writes on every birthday boy or girl's wall (kudos for you), to wish them the greatest of days, with hugs and kisses sent through your computer screen, you find yourself expecting that conventional status which is posted either the evening of, or the day after, by that special birthday boy or girl, saying "Thanks so much for all of the birthday wishes! My day was great, thanks to everyone who made it so great."

Because, being the birthday boy or girl, you don't want to sound ungrateful for all of the emotionless, time consuming wall posts that filled your notifications like a virus.

I even came across a status a few months back that really made me laugh. It was by a special birthday boy, who I knew from primary school, but never spoke a word to. Not even a passing "hello!" whilst walking through a shopping mall. Needless to say, I did not wish him a happy birthday. So, as the day progresses, my news feed is filled with fellow primary school classmates wishing him the best day ever - at one point I even found myself on his profile page, almost typing a birthday wish because I felt excluded, but I did not post it in the end - and at the end of the day, I came across this lovely status, from the birthday boy himself:

"4 all who sent bday messages :) thank u :) for u who didnt :) ur poes :)"

For those of you who are as confused as I was in reading this, he was trying, in the best vocabulary I have ever seen, to make me feel terrible for not hitting buttons on my laptop keyboard to wish him a meaningless Happy Birthday.
Yes. He is that kind of guy.

So anyways, here's a life lesson to learn from this: always, ALWAYS post on somebody's wall to wish them a happy birthday. Because if you don't, you're a poes.
I know I will from now on.

And to end this post on a lighter note, remember:
It's not official, until its Facebook Official.