steven.vu

Breast Cancer

We’re in the car:

ren: My fiance thinks she might have breast cancer…

me: shit.

a rather long awkward silence ensues.

me: It isn’t a death sentence nowadays, don’t worry i’m sure she’s fine. Is she waiting for the results?

ren: yeah, they come out in about a week.

me: Well there’s always the obvious benefit.

ren: what?

me: you know…

ren: there’s nothing fucking beneficial about breast cancer.

me: come on, don’t tell me you havn’t thought about it. Just a C cup?

ren: I never thought about that you sick fuck.

We start singing Sir Mix-A-Lot with the clever substitution of “tits” instead of “butts”. Good times.

On Isreal – Who has beef with who.

I’m a little confused with the whole Middle East problem.

There’s practically a holy consensus right now that the war in the North is a just war and that morality is on our side. The bitter truth must be said: this holy consensus is based on short-range selective memory, an introverted worldview, and double standards.

Morality is not on our side

This war is not a just war. Israel is using excessive force without distinguishing between civilian population and enemy, whose sole purpose is extortion. That is not to say that morality and justice are on Hezbollah’s side. Most certainly not. But the fact that Hezbollah “started it” when it kidnapped soldiers from across an international border does not even begin to tilt the scales of justice toward our side.

If you’re a little confused about the unfolding events. Who has beef with who. Click here.

Oh how I love this song | Cute myspace girl | Austria – Teaching English

Bright Eyes – Landlocked Blues

She’s cute, not least because the webcam is wayward. I was actually watching it because I was listening to Sigur ros.

I spoke to Houss a couple of days ago. Turns out he’s in bloody Austria teaching some kids English for a fortnight. He tells me he got the job from Paul, the guy we did the CELTA with. I give him my mobile number with the strong addage that he must, oh how he must, get me a job. Today I recieve a text asking whether i’m free to leave this weekend. Let’s hope this doesn’t fall through.

And if I do actually get the job, how do I teach? What was the 3rd conditional? Gerunds?

Martin’s 19th tomorow[sic]. A pretty girl on MySpace added me via him. She’s got the angles though, i’m scared. Fear the angles.

Bloody Passport Applications

Me, circa 2002. Nowadays, you can’t have big hair, nor can you smile.
So I have in the envelope:

• 4 Passport Photo’s
• 1 Birth Certificate
• 1 Photocopy of the lost Passport
• 1 Passport Application Form
• 1 LS01 Lost Passport Form
• Signature from a Teacher saying I really am who I am

But no. My head is too large. My hair clips the outside of the transparencies. School’s closed. I want to cry. Even after I get that sorted out I have to find the letter that states why my parents were deemed British. I want to ask them, but I doubt they know.

This is what my god looks like, is he yours?

because atheism is a crutch for the weak

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PBUH

Epiphany of the day

Gem of the day:

If the Queen commits suicide, god forbide; would she be commiting treason?

Deep shit kids.