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Wednesday, 30 September 2015

What Do You Mean? ( What I Say At School VS What I Mean)

It's just a false manifestation of our dreams, based on cultural and corporate influences originating from the time of our primitive ancestors. 

I feel as if starting my posts with some nonsensical ramblings really sets the atmosphere for the rest of the post. I assure you that no matter how many times you try and re-read that sentence, it will never make any sense.

I'm a slightly...moderately...extremely passive aggressive person in the sense that I generally don't always say what I mean when I'm in school. That's about 5678937743 hours a week if we do the maths correctly. It goes without saying that I should probably stop, but if were being realistic here, we know that's not going to happen.  For one, I'm an extremely lazy person and for two I plan on harnessing the power of the sun really soon and I have no time to sort out trivial issues like this right now. So instead of doing the logical thing and changing my ways, I thought I'd make a little reference guide to aid you in the process of deciphering what I truly mean when I say something at school. You are truly welcome.

Perhaps if we all put our tutus on and join hands we could all spend our lives blissfully unaware of how much we hate each other.

1) I'm fine -I wonder how long it would take to ruin you all.

2) I'm not angry- I'm ashy, I'm hungry and I'm seriously contemplating throwing this book at you. You do not want to mess with me!

3) That was funny - Hahahaha, blatant disrespect. You're hilarious.

4) Yes - I really wanted to say no.

5) You're being a douche- My mum said it's bad to use cuss words; so I shall refrain.

6) Shhhh- I give you three seconds. 3 seconds before I pinpoint every single stupid thing you're doing right now.


7) Guys stop talking- 
You know, minus the chorus of "oohs"?

8) I don't care - I dare you to try me right now. Try me!! I know a guy who can turn you into a chicken.

9) No, sorry I don't know the answer- I know the answer. We both know I know the answer here, but remember that time you were being an idiot? Well this is payback fool!!!

10) No I don't have gum- I have gum. I like gum. I want to keep my gum. You're a problem here!

11) Thank you- I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not.

12) You're being stupid- Lord bless your ignorant soul.

13) He's cute- I'm going to pretend I don't like him so you can't tease me about it, but internally I'm slowly dying.

14) It's okay, don't be upset-
I'm not the person to go to when you're upset. I'm no help.

15) She's so pretty- How is it legal for her to be that pretty??!! She's like 11.

16) I'm sorry - Again!!! I stood on your toes Again!

17) Oh yeah, I've heard that song- Note to self: watch that video that goes lalalal *mumble* yeah, yeah ooooh.
(I am not the only one who types random lyrics in YouTube hoping for the song to pop up.)

18) Sorry I can't help you, I haven't done yet- I could help you. I really could, but we both know you're about to copy exactly everything I've just written down, so let's pretend I haven't finished it yet.

19) I'm not really good at this - I'm being self deprecating just in case I'm crap at this and I won't have to listen to you tell me about it.

20) Shewotengbuyeourate- I feel like everything just got really boring all of a sudden. Someone please make a joke.

21) Sure I can get you the sheet- I thought you had legs.

22) REPENT REPENT ( Directed at any child who finds it necessary to slowly walk in front of me as I try to navigate my way to the next class without being late.) - Child of  Earth remove yourself from my path before I tread on your feet.

I'm debating whether or not I should print this off and hand it out at school. It seems like a reasonable idea to me.

Thank you all for reading and make sure to bombard me with questions in the comments so I can answer them in a Tuffin Talks( like a coffee shop conversation but way better- and a little less social) session some time this month.

Weziwoweotengbueeya (I'm creating a new language guys. This means bye.)

Friday, 25 September 2015

Autumn At The Moment And Tuffin Talks

"It's probably best you leave the otter alone, sir."

It's officially Autumn people.
It's the season of social acceptance. The time of year when it's finally okay to aggressively hug your neighbors cat and run down the street screaming "Fluffy!!!"

Here's what I've been loving lately.

Music


But I'm not trying to get arrested here, so I can't put the song up.
There's a 30 second preview if you scroll down on the page from the link.

Blog

Instagram
A.K.A- Mom 100.

Book
Origin

Obsessions
.Grown Ups Read Things They Wrote As Kids
You need to listen to these podcasts.
.Online shopping
Because it really does trump real shopping.

YouTube

Food
Just food in general really.
Not going to lie, I'm quite impressed at this design.

Tuffin Talks-
Like a coffee shop conversation but way better. (And a little less social.)
This isn't anything that extraordinary, I'd really just like you guys to bombard me with questions so I can answer them in a following blog post.
Almost like a Q and A session but slightly more aggressive.
So come at me!


Friday, 18 September 2015

The Art Of Being A Douche

You will eventually encounter a douche. It's pretty much inevitable.

The art of douchery, like any other creative form of expression, has originated from our ancestors.


 As the years have passed the art of douchery has molded to the constant dips and curves of our society. In fact it's become quite the convention among high school teens. However, contrary to popular belief, one does not simply take on the art of douchery. The belief that such an art takes only mediocre efforts is highly absurd. The art of douchery requires both mental and physical strength in abundance and is only truly mastered by 35% of the world's population.( Which we both know is a totally made up statistic. Let's not deny it.)

Here is the art of douchery. Simplified and at your sheer disposal.

There are three main things you must know before becoming a douche:

1)It takes both time and effort.
2) At some point people will begin avoiding you like the bubonic plague.
3) You will become a nuisance.

Like quinoa to water, one must fully absorb and demonstrate the ability to judge others in such a way that it becomes almost like second nature to them. It should become so well established that the simple act of refraining from ignorant comments proves to be a strenuous task. 

 One must then attempt to accurately master the graceful art of the back handed compliment and the direct insult. It's necessary that you understand that it's perfectly acceptable to interchange these two as preferred when verbally attacking someone.  As a rule of thumb; the more hurtful the better. So why not dig deep into your pit of human savagery?!

If the act of verbally stripping away someones self worth isn't enough, resort to something slightly more physical. Purposely trip someone up perhaps? Push someone in the corridor possibly? Anything that floats your boat. Well... I suppose as long as it results in the victim wishing you a slow and painful series of  continuous slaps. If you're a true savage, you could cycle your way into an innocent child, smile, board your bike once again and cycle off without an ounce of empathy coursing through your barbarian bones.

 Always remember to display an utter lack of respect to everyone around you. This includes but is not limited to doing the following actions:
-Shouting constantly
-Blatantly offending someone
-Running in any place that obviously has a speed limit of  about 2 steps a second
-Holding a conversation in the middle of  someone else's conversation although it's perfectly clear the other person was trying to make a point
-Making jokes at others expenses
-Pointing out someone's height or lack of height every 3 seconds, despite the fact that they're only 5 cm shorter than you. ( Okay so maybe this one's a little deep rooted.)

Constantly point out how insanely attractive you are at any given chance. Mere muggles like me sure do appreciate your humble declarations.

 Dismiss the existence of any human being until it becomes apparent that you might need to use them for your own personal gain. Also a trait of a psychopath but you know? Whatever works and all.

The final step to becoming a douche lies deep in yourself. You must begin to believe that your existence should always and with absolutely no exceptions be validated by other people and their responses to you. Whatever you do must provoke a reaction out of someone and it is only then that you will truly become the ultimate douche. It is only then that you will master the elegant art of douchery and become one with the way of our ancestors.

You my friend, are welcome.

Tell me what you thought in the comments and get on my level by checking out this amazing YouTube channel. I'm pretty much obsessed with her and her humor so do the thing and click the link to check her out. With that said, I am done.

Saturday, 12 September 2015

Paper Towns:The Spiegelman Effect


There's always that one person in a group of people that leaves a lasting memory. For whatever reason it's hard to forget them. Take for example the hypothetical green eyed guy in the red jumper. Stood among his brown eyed friends, he's something of an anomaly. A Margo Roth Spiegelman if you please. In any other circumstance you'd probably walk past this guy, but something about the greenness of his eyes seems to trigger a whole fleet of emotions. It's debatable whether or not your inability to forget this guy is due to his eyes or the fact that he's just really hot and you definitely plan on googling him later. But for those few moments in his presence, he seems like the coolest, most fascinating person on Earth.

You spend the first few hours after seeing that person deliberating why you find them so intriguing. Something about the depth of his eyes right? You go through the whole encounter again; attempting to relive each and every single moment (even if your interaction lasted less than a second and consisted of you staring at them creepily whilst they played pool). You zoom in on trivial details any other person would rightly bypass: the shade of lipstick, hair scrunchie design, T-shirt print. It all becomes unnecessarily necessary.

Soon enough though, they become nothing more than a 3 dimensional structure. A month after meeting this person everything just seems to become a part of your imagination. The only things you can recall about them don't even seem realistic any more and they become just another memory. They become this person you've created in your head. This broken scaffold of flesh and bones, the foundations clearly unstable and the only thing supporting the weight of the walls is the possibility that maybe they are exactly the way you've pictured them to be. You construct this person in your mind who's possibly completely alternate to the real life person.

You see, that hypothetical green eyed guy in the red jumper, however deep and intriguing he may seem, is probably nothing more than a green eyed guy in a red jumper. It's most likely he's just an ordinary teen with really nice looking eyes and an unhealthy laffy taffy obsession. And in the worst case, he could be a complete jerk (which would most definitely suck considering I was beginning to like the whole idea of this hypothetical green eyed guy).

People aren't always what you think they are and the chances are that your idea of someone bears no resemblance to that of the person themselves. That's the thing about the Spiegelman effect. It kind of leaves you wishing that reality was a little more blurred. Maybe then we'd all be a little like Margo Roth Spiegelman. Paper people certainly, but Margos nevertheless.

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

A Letter To High School Students: You're The 99th Problem

I officially hate you all.


Dear student,

I think it's necessary that we establish the extent of which my hatred to you spans. I hate you. I hate you more than extortionately priced melted ice cream on a hot summers day. I hate you more than fire breathing spiders and ninja bonobo monkeys. You are the root cause to my gradual insanity. You're like nails on a memory foam mattress or a killer robot among miniature puppies. I really do hate you. You probably hate me to and it's cool. I want you to know that the feeling's totally mutual. I've realised that I've never really hated high school. In fact I have no issues whatsoever with high school. My problem, fellow student, is you.

There are approximately 5 reasons as to why I hate you and secretly hope I'll never see your face again:

1) Let's be frank here. You're an arse. A cold hearted, insensitive jerk of a human being. You like picking on people and making them feel small. You get a kick out of belittling and disrespecting teachers. You find it amusing laughing at people and toying with their feelings and self esteem. You like being intimidating and ruining people's educations, You don't care if you're the one thing stopping someone from that potential A grade. That's okay though. As long as you're fine no one else matters.



2) You've developed this strange sort of disease that completely inhibits your ability to shut up. You're the talkative one. The one in the middle of the class that can't seem to make the distinction between silence and a complete invasion of human peace. You're the one who thinks it's necessary to raise your voice in class for no apparent reason. You're the one who just can't seem to understand that screaming across the classroom to talk to your friends is a douchey move.

3) You've somehow managed to assume that everyone likes you and that you have the right to constantly interrupt lessons. It's totally fine to start an argument with the teacher halfway through a clearly important maths lesson and it's totally acceptable to click your fingers at the teacher like they were hired to be at your beck and call. It's completely fine to talk to people like dirt and then assume that you're worthy of receiving the highest levels of respect. You, my irritating class mate, need to stop.

4) You're a judgmental, superficial and materialistic being. You like to talk about how others look and the things they wear and own. You won't sit next to someone because they're not in your friendship group and not worthy of being in your presence apparently. You like to talk about the way people act and judge them based solely on their appearance. Personality and smarts mean nothing to you, it's all about popularity and looks. You are the reason why others feel like they need to change themselves. You're the person that feels like it's okay to generalise people and it's really not.

5) You're the stampede starter, the corridor shover and the pencil thrower. You are the intentional human safety hazard. The person who thinks it's fine to lob a book across the classroom and squirt water all over another student.You need to stop. You're the reason why the corridors and classrooms are never a safe place.

If you're all of these things combined, I truly feel as if there is no place for you in a place such as high school. You're possibly a threat to human civilization and need to get your act together. I pray for your soul.

Yours sincerely Stella.
That one girl in your school that you've probably shoved in the corridor.

Saturday, 5 September 2015

An 80's Chick



I wanna be an 80's chick. A girl of the totally tubular era:
The large hooped earrings, shoulder pads, perms and ray bans.
I've always wanted to live in the 80's. There's just something about the side ponytail and penny loafer that gets me every time. You see, the 80's had this sort of eccentricity to it. Although I'm almost 99 percent sure that the teens of the following decades will surely feel the same about our era, the 80s seemed to embody the word itself.
 If the 80s were a person, she'd be something of a gem. She'd be Saturday.Vibrant. A social butterfly with rainbow hair and slitted eyebrows. She'd be the wind in her hair, road trip kind of girl. The girl with the mismatched neon socks and giant pink bow in her pixie cut hair. She'd be bubble gum lip gloss or passion fruit tea. A girl with utter confidence. She'd be the lyrics to a Cindy Lauper song or Belinda Carlisle. She'd be strawberry popping candy or grape laffy taffy and rainbow nerds. She'd be the beating heart of a free spirit.

I can imagine myself living in the 80s. On the outskirts of New York City in a suburban neighborhood. Dancing my way through countless tracks on countless albums in my poster covered room. Snacking on fruit gushers, cool ranch Doritos and jello pudding pops. Probably slurping agressively at the remains of my Hi-C Ecto Cooler. Hanging out with the neighborhood kids on our Pogo boards whilst we chat about trivial issues and oreos.



I've come to realise that my love of the 80s is what some would call a slight obsession ( or alternatively a semi butt crazy infatuation). I  say slightly as I have not yet filled the dimensions of my house with an abundance of 80s memorabilia. That on the other hand would be a serious obsession and would potentially require the aid of a health care practitioner ( I honestly didn't know what this term meant until 2 minutes ago when I had to google it.)

And so the 80's is where I wish to reside, dressed in neon windbreakers, penny loafers and parachute pants. A weird combination I admit, but then again who would want to be normal.
The 80's were all about rocking what you wanted to wear.