n oh n

Following last night's madness-inducing maths, this is what was in my head when I awoke this morning:

101 - The room where maths lessons happen.*
303 - You can find your way home on it.
404 - Not found.
707 - "It's an entirely different kind of flying, altogether."
909 - Why didn't they just call the song 910...?

I think perhaps that I didn't get quite enough sleep...

* I kid you not. Why would a college even have a room designated to crushing spirit??

EDIT 29th November 2010: RIP, Leslie Nielsen. What a legend.

- jawj

Fountains Of Insightfulness

God forbid I should admit to the poppy rubbish I'm listening to (and enjoying...!) at this time on a Monday night whilst trying to knock out a maths assignment, but this song doesn't entirely fail to capture my current state of mind. Extra moolah for the creator of the utterly random video.

I think I need to sleep: it's been a long few nights and days. And great changes are afoot.

Nice Guys Finish Last...?

Bending over backwards, playing the doormat and bustin' yer balls gets you fecking NOWHERE!

Perhaps it's time to look out for #1... Yeah, I'm gonna go back to being an asshole. Hell, I might even start running red lights - they only slow me down, right!??

---

And then I put on Nice Guys Finish Last and then the whole album and then everything was ok. Ah, poppunkrock makes it all better. Sure, selflessness might go unthanked, unreturned and even unnoticed, but, it turns out, that's the point.

I reckon I'm just in a funk brought on by the trauma of the UCAS form - how is it so easy to blither on about me me me on Bananaworld and then be hit with a total blank when confronted by the need to write a personal statement?

Pardon?

What do you mean the personal statement can't just be a collection of unrelated ramblings? Just what are you implying about my blog??

Maybe it's easier if one's seventeen years old. But don't ask me, I can't remember that far back.

Beady Eyed Bakin'

Oh brother, yet another post about Oasis?
Well, no, not quite.

Oasis, subtract Noel Gallagher = Beady Eye

Pour votre plaisir I was bored enough to transcribe the lyrics to this little gem (har har har, get it?)

---

Bring The Light

I bring the light, you get to see.
You bring the love, it's ecstasy.
I see no point, what you're thinking.
I'm going out, I'm taking you drinking.

I get the car, you get hung up.
I'm standing tall, well fucking tough.
It's just your way, you hear me wrong.
I hear you say, you're getting now, getting now.

Baby hold on, baby come on.
Baby come on.
You're getting up, getting off.
Baby hold on, baby come on.
Baby come on.
You're getting up, getting now.

I bring the light, you get to see
You bring the love, it's ecstasy.
I see no point, what you're thinking.
I'm going out, I'm taking you drinking.

I'm coming in, you're coming out.
I'm coming up, you're coming down.
It's just your way, you did me wrong.
I hear you say, you're getting up, getting now.

Baby hold on, baby come on.
Baby come on.
You're getting up, getting off.
Baby hold on, baby come on.
Baby come on.
You're getting up, getting now.

Baby come on (Baby come on)
Baby come on (Baby come on)
Baby come on (Baby come on)
Baby come on, come on, come on... (yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Baby come on) Baby come on
(Baby come on) Baby come on
(Baby come on) Baby come on
(Baby come on) Baby come on
(Baby come on) Baby come on, come on...

Baby come on (Baby come on)
Baby come on (Baby come on)
Well, baby come on.

---

The Bananaworld verdict? Simple, basic rock 'n' roll, but rock 'n' roll nonetheless. No denying the lyrics aren't gonna start a revolution, but the piano thoroughly holds this song up. And you can jolly-well dance to it, which is sometimes all you need.

In summary: "Wait a minute guys, you spent how many minutes writing this song?? That computes to a catchiness:writing time ratio of over nine thousand to one! Rock on!"

And so to delicious cake.

A couple of baker's dozens of choclatey, nutty goodnesses.

Almost.

Too much peanut butter in the filling and too little sugar in the mix means they taste exactly like peanut butter sandwiches. Now, I like peanut butter sandwiches, but they're hardly the sort of fare one could present to others. They're not bad cakes, but it's tricky making vegan cupcakes. Not that it's actually tricky making vegan cupcakes (rocket science, it ain't) but when the cake consumadors take a bite, they expect it to be only mediocre. They're thinking, "no milk, no eggs, no taste," so I reckon I need to go that extra klick to inject some sweet, sweet sugary goodness and bring them to a level beyond what one might expect of a weirdo vegan cupcake.

Better bake some more cakes soon...

F(Drag) = blahblahblah·v²·blahblahblah

I've said it before but that sure ain't gonna stop me from sayin' it again:

Why, physics, WHY???? Why does drag have to increase with the square of air speed????

Feckin' wind.
Actually, feckin' maths exam followed by cycling the whole way home into the feckin' wind.
No wait: feckin' trying to draw accurate sine and cosine graphs followed by a feckin' maths exam followed by cycling the whole way home into the feckin' wind.

It may well be a cold start to winter, but that stresseffectortriplecombo had me sweating...

In other news: I've just this week, whilst discussing futures with my fellow students, stolen hit upon an idea for study and work that I actually, for possibly the first time, feel passionate about. (It happened to be on the 115th anniversary of the discovery of X-rays - I think Google infected my subconcious that day...)

Let's see where it goes! Perhaps beyond Bananaworld....