TIL Robin Williams is Santa Claus and has a cute daughter

I was surfing Reddit just now when I saw a link on the frontpage of Reddit.

What caught my eye was that this link is about Robin Williams and his daughter in an ad for Ocarina of Time 3D.

Wait, daughter? Since when did the Genie has a daughter?

And his daughter is named Zelda?

And both of them are in an ad for a game about Link and Princess Zelda?

Mind = Blown.

I don’t play Link games and I’m not a rabid fan of Link games. The only Nintendo games I frequently play are Mario, Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. Melee on GameCube and Super Smash Bros. Brawl on Wii.

I think the reason why I seldom play any Nintendo games was because the consoles I own were Sega Mega Drive 2 and PlayStation 2.

I do have a Game Boy though. A Deep Black coloured Game Boy from the 1995 Play It Loud Series . It still works and I think I have it somewhere in storage.

And I don’t own a Xbox. My housemate has a Xbox 360 but I seldom play the Xbox with her since she’s selfish and only chooses first person shooter games like Dead Space. That’s right, she conveniently chooses one person games. In my one year of living with her, I touched the Xbox 360 a grand total of 3 times.

What a prude.

Nah, kidding. For some weird reason, although the Xbox 360 sat in the living room of our old apartment for 7 months, I didn’t have any urge to manhandle the Xbox every time I walk past it.

So yeah, I’m not a rabid fan of any game console. I prefer PC gaming.

The Civilization series by Sid Meier? The Total War series? Ooh yeah, come to papa.

Except I own a fucking MacBook, so any plan to play PC games usually goes down the toilet drain, in the form of masturbatory semen.

Figure of speech, people. Loosen up. And to my housemate, relax, the shower floor is clean.

Oops, lost my train of thought there. Where was I? Oh yeah, Robin Williams and his daughter in an ad for Ocarina of Time 3D.

…one of my pet rats chewed off half his face

Sorry, I just woke up from a weird dream where one of my pet rats chewed off half his face.

His face looked something like this in my dream. Deep breath people, there’s gore and blood here:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Taken from RatForum.com)


 

Before you get all judgmental, first, that’s not my rat. Second, read the full story here to find out what really happened to that rat above.

This is my pet rat who I dreamt that he bit off his face. I took a picture just now:

 



 

See, Pan has his face intact. 

I gave him a BBQ flavoured chip to reward him. But he ignored me and went back to sleep. 

Anyway, yeah, I know, first thing I do when I wake up is to surf Reddit.

Reddit is like my crack.

Anyway, the ad, yah, I need to show you the ad, fuck I need to stop getting sidetracked.

Here’s the ad:

 



 

Robin Williams has an epic beard here.

And Zelda Williams is insanely cute.

If I have a daughter, I’ll name her Red Alert, and my son, I’ll name him Yuri’s Revenge. Wait… I’m not suppose to name them after an entire game, am I?

Whatever. They’re still cool names.

By the way, if you’re wondering what TIL means in the title, it means Today I Learn.

TYL what TIL means.

________________________________________

 

If you’re wondering, then yes, I’ve changed the blog’s theme. I prefer this, the width is wider, the fonts are bigger and best of all, it allows me to do this:

If you’re wondering, then yes, I’ve changed the blog’s theme

Pull quotes, baby →.

As a blogger who writes a lot of lengthy, wordy posts, pull quotes allow me to highlight the important stuff, the main points. 

Don’t worry, the foundation have been laid down, so I won’t spring any more surprises on you. Any additional tweaks to the blog will be relatively minor and won’t disrupt your viewing pleasure.

That’s all folks.

Remember to vote for me for Best WTH Blog in Singapore Blog Awards 2011!

The Blogfather Mission Part 3 and Vivid Sydney 2011

Warning: long blog post ahead. But some pictures to entertain you too.

A couple of days ago, I blogged about the Blogfather mission.

For those who have no idea what the mission is about, read Part 1 and Part 2 before continuing with this final chapter.

For those who are in the know, read on.

So what happened to the Blogfather? The answer lies below

















Taken from Kryxx on Reddit.com



The Blogfather is dead.

I had to put a picture of a gummy bear because the real one was too grisly. But you get the idea.

In his place, will be my blog and I will reign supreme. I shall be the Ah Long of all Ah Longs, the Bak Chor Mee man of all Bak Chor Mee men and women and the new emeritus junior Blogfather  (I’m not that old yet. Still in my early twenties).

I shall be the new l’infantile terrible of Singapore.

Now kneel down and kiss my hand.

But how? How did mrbrown, one of the apex Singaporean bloggers, fall into the hands of a young upstart? 

Well…






















Actually, he never did.

I was the one who failed the mission. No shooting, stabbing, manslaughter or murder ever took place.

So what happened?

First, let’s backtrack to Monday:

Locating mrbrown’s place of accommodation.

On Monday afternoon/ evening, mrbrown uploaded a twitpic showing a clock tower. When I saw the picture, I went into overdrive mode. I knew I’ve seen that clock tower somewhere. I knew it was somewhere in the Sydney CBD but I just could not remember where it was.

Stumped, I asked my housemate for help. At first, she was bemused that after staying near the Sydney CBD for nearly 2 years, I still did not know the location of the damn clock. So she made me guess.

After half hour of guessing, I gave up. I still did not know the location of the clock.

My housemate finally relented and told me that mrbrown was probably staying at the Westin Sydney, since from the angle of the photo, that was the only place where he could have took a photo of the clock.

Fired up by that clue, I started Googling for all hotels, apartments and hostels around Martin Place (where the clock is located). I went to this website and they listed five hotels (the Westin included) around Martin Place. 

To make sure that the Westin was indeed the hotel mrbrown was staying at, I fired up Google Maps and started comparing the locations of all five hotels in respective to the location of the clock tower.

After about 45 minutes of scrutinizing the maps, I came to a conclusion that the Westin was the right place. 10 minutes later, my housemate told me that she show the twitpic to a friend that did hospitality and hotel management. When her friend saw the twitpic, the friend told my housemate that from the angle of the pic, there was only one possible place:

The Westin Sydney.

So I decided to head over to the Westin Sydney the next day.

The hunt is on.


Tuesday:

So after waking up at noon, instead of 6am like I intended, I headed over to the Westin, but not before having a fulfilling lunch at Hungry Jacks. I think it was sometime around 3pm when I got to the Westin.  However, I ran into an obstacle: there were two exits.

While I was loitering around the main entrance, which exited onto Pitt Street, I could not keep an eye on the second, smaller door which exited onto George Street, as my line of sight was blocked by a restaurant. But I decided to take my chance and wait at the main entrance.

So I loitered around the lobby for about 20 minutes, watching the lifts and the exits. After 20 minutes, I came to a conclusion that mrbrown was not in the Westin and probably went for the SPARC 2011 convention at Darling Island Wharf. I checked the SPARC official website last night and knew the location of the convention.

I left the Westin and started walking towards Darling Island. Walking there from Martin Place would take me half hour. But I didn’t want to take the bus as the CDB’s roads was always jammed.

I made it to Darling Island and saw the convention going on in full swing. There were crowds and crowds of people in casual business suits and smart casual attire. I spent half hour outside the convention, tolerating the winter wind, while trying to keep a lookout for mrbrown. I checked mrbrown’s tweets to make sure he was still in the convention. He was there, but hiding in the convention room.

Smart man.

I wasn’t chased away from the staff since the convention took place next to a wharf and a small park. So I was more or less on public grounds. Furthermore, in order to reduce suspicious, I behaved like a tourist and snapped a few photos:



Sydney’s skyline. Click on pic for a larger image.




Sydney Harbour Bridge in the distance. Click on pic for a larger image.



After waiting in the blustery winter evening, with no sight of mrbrown, I gave up and rushed to Starbucks to have some hot mocha to warm myself up. Another reason for not staying longer was that I was going to meet my friends at Circular Quay to experience Vivid Sydney 2011. Walking from Darling Island to Circular Quay will probably take me about 40 minutes.

To add insult to my wounded pride, mrbrown tweeted about having dinner at the Flying Fish Restaurant when I was approaching Circular Quay. If only I stayed longer, I could have caught him. But no… mrbrown chose to come out of the convention when I was a 40 minutes walk away.

So I didn’t get mrbrown on Tuesday. But I did have a pretty awesome time at Vivid Sydney. Here are some crappy, blurry photos I took:



Circular Quay Station all lit up, in red.



 


Some fire dancing to Katy Perry’s “Fireworks”. More info here.



 


An exhibit at Vivid about the moon.



 





 



This is a cool one. It’s powered by solar energy. So if you use your camera flash, the bells will light up with colourful light and music.






 

 

The Custom House decorated in light.




 

My friend and I on a lit bench.



It is the same bench that mrbrown planked on. I wanted to plank on the bench but there were too many people around. Sigh, I can’t even copycat mrbrown.



 

Some wire car next to Sydney Opera House.



So after Vivid Sydney, I went to Max Brenner’s cafe with two friends of mine who were visiting, before heading home. But before I went home, I loitered around the Westin, hoping that mrbrown would turn up. He never did. Dejected, my weary feet dragged my sorry ass back home.

I complained to my housemate who told me what my problem was: staying at one place for an extremely short amount of time. She said that true stalkers camp at one place for hours at time. She told me that to improve my chances of bumping into him, I should go to the hotel at 7am in the morning and camp there.

Like hell I am.

But she did make a good point, so I made a mental note to try and wake up as early as possible. Before I went to bed, mrbrown tweeted about being in Chinatown. I stay pretty close to Chinatown and it was only about 20 minutes walk. I stood next to my bed, debating whether I should go to Chinatown and hunt mrbrown down.

Fuck it, I thought, I’m cold, tired and spent half the day walking around the entire Sydney’s CBD. I’m not going to spend another hour chasing mrbrown around Chinatown. So I went to bed.


Wednesday:

I woke up at 11am. Late again. Feeling a bit dejected, I went to SPARC website to check out the itinerary for the day. Apparently lunch was from 1300hrs to 1350hrs. I had a hurried brunch, fed my rats, took a quick shower and changed into something proper.

As everyone at the convention was in casual business attire or smart casual, I decided to dress smart casual in order to blend in. So I dressed up, looking every inch like a yuppie.

It was about a half hour walk from my place to Darling Island. I reached there around 1345 hrs (1:45pm) and there were still people milling outside the convention. I took a slow, unhurried walk among them. Unfortunately, mrbrown was not among the lunch crowd.

A smart, cautious man.

Not deterred, I went to a cafe next to the convention and ordered a large mocha. I sat outside the cafe for two hours, trying to make the mocha last. In that two hours, I saw no signs of mrbrown.

Frustrated, I finished up my mocha and dallied in front of the convention entrance.

Then I saw him.

Or I think I saw him.

I’m not sure if it was him though, I was standing about 50 metres away and he was surrounded by business-looking people. The only thing I could see was his side profile. As I hesitated, he turned and walked down the side of the building.

I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

So I called my housemate.

“I think I saw mrbrown!”

“Oh. You saw mrbrown. So did you take a photo?”

“No, I didn’t. I said I think I saw him. It may be him. It may not be him.”

“So is mrbrown there?”

“Yes, he is. Wait, are you in the library? Never mind, I call you back.”

I decided to chase after mrbrown, so I brisk-walked to the side of the building. But mrbrown was no where to be seen. Somehow he vanished.

What the…

Goddamn it, I’ve lost him.

I knew mrbrown would be around the convention, but I didn’t want to hang around any longer. It was very cold that day, and suit jacket was not giving enough warmth. Frustrated, I went home, hid under my blanket and took a nap.

My housemate came back in the evening and asked if I managed to get mrbrown.

“No. I though I saw him and when I finally went after him, he disappeared.”

“Oh, you could have went straight up to him when you saw him.”

I shrugged my shoulder, “Well, I don’t think I’m going to chase him down anymore.”

My housemate laughed, “So you broke your Twitter virginity for nothing.”

Damn right.

Despite two days of walking around Sydney’s CBD and obsessive twittering, I failed in my mission.

So I admitted defeat and took the easiest way out: tweeting him directly.


Saturday, 12:37am:





Today, I tweeted mrbrown asking if I could get a photo and his autograph. If you can’t beat the Blogfather, join him. And save your Twitter virginity for someone better.

Therefore, I leave you with the final debriefing on the Blogfather mission:



Debriefing on identifying mrbrown’s locations in Sydney, NSW

Selected point man: Zareth Lim

Target: mrbrown

Target’s last known location: Don’t give a fuck anymore.

Mission goal: Get mrbrown’s photo and autograph.

Current status: Case pending closure.

Method: Tweeted mrbrown directly.



There, all done.

Jokes aside, I want to let everyone know that this was just done for fun. People may think “Yeah, right, you’re stalker, Zareth. Admit it.”

You know what, I did notice by the end of the first day that I was bordering on stalkerish, creepy behaviour. When I first told my housemate that I was going to chase after mrbrown, she told me I was a stalker. When I told my friend at Vivid that I was chasing mrbrown, she said: “wow, you really idolized him.”

Although mrbrown is one of my favourite bloggers, I don’t idolize him to the point where I have his pictures on my wall and underwear. Truth.

On Tuesday night, as I was debating whether I should camp outside the Westin early in the morning, what struck me was how this simple joke could become such an obsession for me. It was frightening, really. It didn’t felt like me but my Twitter updates only confirmed this obsession:





On Tuesday alone, I twitted 7 tweets about mrbrown.

What the fuck.

So I want to state again, that this whole thing was just for fun. And if mrbrown somehow read this blog, I just want to say that I never intended to intrude into your personal privacy.

So I’m calling this so-called ‘mission’ to a close. I know I just twitted mrbrown that I want his photo and autograph. But that was more to let him be aware and to seek for his permission. Even if he said yes, I probably would not meet up him because, really, as much as I admire him, I have better things to do. This whole mrbrown affair, in my opinion, just became a farce.

So yep, no more blogfather mission or “somebody else” mission for that matter. Nope, nada, zilch.

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I want to remind you that the voting for best WTH blog is still ongoing until 3rd July!

So vote for me! Voters will get to win prizes too!

You’ll need to sign in or register before you can vote. (Just a quick FYI: only Singaporeans and Singapore PR eligible to vote, part of the competition’s rules).

Some of my friends said they couldn’t find the voting button. I suggest using Mozilla Firefox browser if you have trouble finding the button.

The link to vote for me is here and you should see this:






So get your voting mojo on!

While you’re voting for me, vote for Estelle’s blog too! She blogged about me (I’m under “Mr Toilet Seat Welcomes You”) and is asking her readers and friends to vote for me (Thanks!). Vote for her blog in the Best Lifestyle category.

And vote for the Cambelles in the Best Social Media Integrated Blog.

That’s all folks. Now quit stalking me.

Eating Prawns

This week has been a pretty hectic week for me. So apologies for the lack of updates.

I had two exams in this week. One was a take-home exam for an English Lit subject and another was an in-class exam for an International Security subject.

Each exam is worth 40%.

But it doesn’t end there. My take home-exam was due on Tuesday and my in-class exam was on Wednesday. So after submitting my take home-exam 10 minutes shy of the deadline, I flashed back home, took out my well-used midnight oil lamp and crammed for the in-class exam.

Stressful week indeed.

But… it hasn’t end yet.

This week is the last week of school and I’m currently on STUVAC, which means study vacation. It’s just a nice way of saying cram week. So during this one week, I’ll have to prepare for another take-home exam and an open book exam. At least I’ve got two exams out of the way already.

Anyway, enough of sidetracking. This post is not about exams or assignments or cramming or burning midnight oil.

This post is about eating prawns. Or more specifically, how I eat prawns.

But first, I would like you to meet Cooked Prawny:





Delicious, no?

Anyway, there’s a short back story to this post. Last night, I was at Star City (an integrated resort in Sydney) with a group of friends. The event was actually a society dinner but only a handful of people turn up, so it became a dinner with friends. Anyway, this restaurant, called Buffet Garden (what else?), was apparently famous for their all-you-can-eat prawns.

Their entire menu is all-you-can-eat by the way. I don’t know why the emphasis was on prawns.

Since I wanted to get my money’s worth, I grabbed some prawns and slices of lemon and settled down for a second round of feasting.

As I was chomping down on my prawns, the Secretary-elect of Unimates was tediously peeling the shells off her prawns. The outgoing President, a Chinese Filipino and a true blue, born-and-bred man of the sea (who happens to be doing his Masters in Information Technology), glanced at her and said, “Do you know the best way for peeling prawns?”

The Secretary-elect and I stared at the IT Man of the Sea. There was a best way to peel prawns?

The best way to peel prawns?

“First, you bite off the head,” the IT Man of the Sea said, “and you suck the head.”

The prawn’s head. Not a blowjob.





The Secretary-elect stared at the IT Man of the Sea and said, “Oh, I don’t really like the head.” Then she went back to peeling the shell of her prawns.

Meanwhile, I popped another prawn into my mouth, shell and all.

Yep, that’s how I eat prawns.

On the other hand, everyone at my table was peeling the shells of their prawns. I guess the majority of people eat prawns this way too:





Say hello to naked prawn.

Looks disgusting, right? When I was young, I always thought de-shelled prawns looked like orange-coloured, crescent-shaped testicles. Moving on.

So yes, I eat prawns in its entirety. I believe this is the second best way to eat prawns.

Why second best? 

Well, one of my cousin has the talent of eating a prawn with its shell and after a few quick seconds, he’ll spit out the shell.





I tried doing that but I always get jaw and tongue cramps after a while. So I reverted back to my method.

So why do I eat the entire prawn with the shell?

Well, basically, I’m a lazy person. When I was a young kiddydums, I was taught to remove both head and tail, peel the prawn and then devour it. But after a few frustrated attempts with prawn juice splattering on me, I gave up and popped a prawn into my mouth.

It was… not that bad. Definitely crunchy.

Since then, I have been eating prawns this way.

Some people balked when they see me eating prawns this way. Questions range from: “Don’t you get pricked in the mouth?” to “Is it disgusting?” and to “Do you get hepatitis and food poisoning?”

Do I get pricked in the mouth? Yes, in the beginning. But now I’m pretty skilled enough to not get pricked in the mouth.

Is it disgusting? Not really, and the shell doesn’t dull the taste of the prawns (for me, apparently).

Do I get hepatitis and food poisoning? So far I have been given a clean bill of health. I know correlation does not imply causation, but I’m sure I’m not the only one that eat prawns this way. As long as the prawns are cooked properly, I’m fine, you’re fine, everybody’s fine. This also applies to cooked food in general.

However, eating prawns with shell does have one drawback, especially when I was a kid.

You see, when I first started eating prawns that way, my family and relatives had no idea about my new prawn-eating method. Being a Singaporean Chinese, we would get prawns one way or the other when we had a large family gatherings. At that stage in my life, I was a skinny, little runt, so my parents and relatives like to force-feed me. Every time they see my empty plate, they’ll pile food on it. Prawns included.

During the first round, I’ll polish off every single prawn. Of course, I ate the shells too:





 

Unfortunately, since my plate was devoid of prawn shells, one of my parent or relative would take pity on me, thinking I didn’t have any prawn, so they pile a second helping on my plate:





I would finish off the prawns, albeit at a much slower pace.

Once again, my parents or relative would see my plate empty of prawn shells, so they’ll pile a third heap onto my plate. By now, I’m protesting that I’m too full. But no one actually listens to a small kid’s protestations, do they?

So I have to eat the third heap of prawns:





After what seemed like an eternity, I managed to fill my little stomach with more prawns. But… another relative walks by, glances at my plate and goes, “Oh, you haven’t had prawns yet.”

Another fourth helping. Motherfuc…..





This time, I wised up. I leave the prawns’ heads behind as an incriminating evidence:





Since then, I’ve been eating prawns this way. I’ll make sure to leave some heads rolling so that people know I’ve eaten prawns.

So how do you eat prawns?

P.S. I googled “prawns in Australia” and got this. It’s the top result.



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I found this hilarious music video by nigahiga about two days ago. Make sure you watch the entire thing:





This is KevJumba’s version:





And the acoustic version by Chester See:




But I like this song best:




Why the Rapture did not happen

May 21st came and went.

The Rapture did not happen. 

Rapture? What Rapture?

Wait, what is a Rapture?

It is not a rapture, it is the Rapture. According to Christian theology, or more accurately, the premillennial theology, the Rapture is an event where God takes up his elected people to heaven before the end of the world. So basically when the Rapture happens, all of God’s elected people will disappear from the face of earth and go to heaven.

Just like that, poof!

So what has May 21st got to do with the Rapture?

Well, this American Christian radio host, Harold Camping, predicted that the Rapture will occur on 21st May 2011 and that the end of the world will take place four months later on 21st October 2011. He predicted that the Rapture will occur across the world at 6pm local time, “…sweeping the globe time zone by time zone.” Wiki link here.

It’s as if God decided to have the Rapture while respecting our time zones. I can imagine this scene taking place in Heaven:

GOD: “The time is nigh! I shall call my elected people to be with me! Begin the Rapture now! Earth will… what’s that, Gabriel? Time zones? “

Gabriel: “Lord, you have forgotten that humans measure their day according to different time zones. “

GOD: “Oh, thank you for reminding me, Gabriel. Let’s start again, shall we? Ahem, one, two. The time has come! The Rapture shall begin at 6pm local time!”

Wait a minute, isn’t God infallible? So if Gabriel corrected God and God accepted the correction, doesn’t it means that God has become fallible? And if all existence rest on the assumption that God is infallible, doesn’t Gabriel’s action proves that God is fallible and thus negating existence? I guess this is the part where Metatron goes: “My Lord, NOooooo……”

(Kevin Smith’s movie reference).

Another thing, does God includes Daylight Saving Time?

Anyway, Since I stay in Sydney, Australia, I had the honour of getting front row seats to see the Rapture.

6pm came and went.

Nothing happened.  There were no news of mass panic on the streets of Sydney (except from the usual weekend crowds) and life went on as usual. As Earth rotated on its axis to complete its… rotation, there were no news of Rapture taking place in other countries.

May 21st came and went.

So what went wrong?

I have two theories on why the Rapture did not take place. Bear with me.

The first theory involves Lee Hsien Loong’s swearing in ceremony. On May 21st, Prime Minster Lee Hsien Loong and his Cabinet were sworn into office.

I have a strong feeling that the PAP must had an agreement with God to postpone the Rapture. After all, you can’t have any event overshadowing the swearing in ceremony. Imagine this:

Gabriel: “The time now is SGT 6pm, UTC +0800 hours. Location, Singapore.”

GOD: “Begin the Raptur….”

Lee Hsien Loong: “Wah piang, eh. Don’t like that, eh, God. Can postpone or not? Today my swearing in ceremony as Prime Minister.” 

GOD: “Give me one good reason why I should postpone the Rapture.”

Lee Hsien Loong: “My father is Lee Kuan Yew.”

GOD: “Oh… very well then.”

The second theory is that Lee Kuan Yew asked God to postpone the Rapture for five years so as to allow the Aljunied voters to reflect on their mistake and repent:

Gabriel: “The time now is SGT 6pm, UTC +0800 hours. Location, Singapore.”

GOD: “Begin the Raptur….”

Lee Kuan Yew: “Not yet!”

GOD: “Oh, I damn it! What is it now?”

Lee Kuan Yew: “You have to change the date of the Rapture.”

GOD: “There better be a good reason for this.”

Lee Kuan Yew: “Aljunied. They have not repent yet. I’ll need five more years.”

See lah, Aljunied, who asked you to vote for Opposition? Now you screwed up God’s schedule.

Sorry, Harold Camping, you had your predictions derailed because of one small, city-state in Southeast Asia.

But if the Rapture were to happen, I would prefer if it happens this way:

GOD: “Release Kirby.”

Gabriel: “Lord?”

GOD: “Release Kirby!”

Gabriel: “But why, Lord?”

GOD: “RELEASE KIRBY!”



Taken from Daily Doodly



So watch out for the pink, fluffy ball in the sky. 

Housemates Pee On Toilet Seats

Before I like to proceed further with this blog post, I would like to clarify that my housemates do not pee on toilet seats.

It is extremely important that you get this into your brain: my housemates DO NOT pee on toilet seats.

I have to clarify this or else I end up getting tortured and butchered. (Figure of speech, people).

In any case, I’m usually the one peeing on the toilet seat because they always have to leave the toilet seat down. WHY? 

Anyway, this post is not about me or my housemates or toilet seats. I’ve already written a post concerning that.

This post is about the search terms that lead people to my blog.

You see, every now and then, when I’m tinkering around with my blog (heh, heh, tinkering around … never mind), my attention gets captured by very, very, weird search terms. I’ve written two posts about weird search terms here and here.

So today, I was doing some very minor updates on my blog when this caught my eye:






I guess my blog came up because I had a post containing the words toilet seats, housemates and pee

The deadly tripartite.

After chuckling to myself, I was curious how popular my blog was on Google (yeah, narcissistic  personality). So I typed in the search term word for word and this was what I got:



Click on the picture to see the bigger version.



I came in no. 6. Top three spots were reserved for housemates who actually peed (or pee-ed?) on the toilet seats. The fourth was about a guy’s frustration with his female housemates who could not bother to dispose their used sanitary products in the proper procedure. The fifth was tips on how to piss off your housemates.

Yep, I clicked on all five. Don’t worry, it’s SFW (Safe For Work) and SFL (Safe For Life). Compared to the rest of the internets, it’s pretty minor. It doesn’t contain anything that will get you fired or that will make you an outcast for life. So go ahead and click on them. Trust me.

Before I end this post, Mr. Toilet Seat would like to share some words with us:






LOL. Talk about toilet humour.

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If you’re offended by the mild, toilet humour on this post, here’s a music video to sooth you. After all the shit that happened between us, we’re still friends, no? 

FYI, the title of the song is “Friendship” or “Friends”. Classic song.