Oh and here's a copy of the lyrics: Excitement abounds I almost can't wait Relax, I don't want your baby I already ate Though I do tend to generally kill Kill things that don't fight back
I see this village What does it hold? What shall I butcher them with Fire or cold? Running from me sure you'd think 'He's a pathological bloodthirsty homicidal maniac!'
I'd kill kittens and puppies and bunnies I'd maim toddlers and teens and then more You see a wife? I see a widow But what then? Can't you see? I'd kill four!
I want to incinerate and decapitate I want to melt Want to melt some faces Watching the peasants...what do they call it? Ahh...grieve! I suppose that being undead there's not much to life A soul is needed for loving...feeling... How does this all not make me...what's that word again? Heave!
You've nowhere to hide Nowhere to run Your village will burn like the heart of the sun! With infinite glee It's going to be me That slaughters the world!
How could I glare into these eyes And then not stab them? How could I stare at their loss And then not laugh? I'd cut him in half Then I'd graft His head back onto his shoulders Or after I'd lop it I'd make a puppet On top of a staff!
I am a lord that is sometimes bored Have some urges and need to fulfill them After my mayhem I simply don't...what's the word? Care! The stench in the air The smell of the gore The carnage far greater than any war My legacy Death becomes...me! I'll slaughter the world
"This sleepy ninja is best known for its glomping skills. Whether defending Ninjatown from attacking pillows or simply training with Ol' Master Ninja at the carwash, there is seldom a dull moment for Siege.
And when not training or defending, daydreaming with her ninja friends at the Club Ninja is the past time of choice.
Beware this ninja's extreme level of squishiness."
Ok, the kid gloves are off. No more Ms. Congeniality. I'm 36 years old and, might I add, not getting any younger. When in hell are you planning to show yourself?
What is taking you so long? Too macho to ask for directions? Can't find the big pulsating arrow that is pointing straight at me? I mean, what are you waiting for? The Apocalypse? Well don't hold your breath on that one, I told them not to set one hoof on this earth until I'm good and hitched to you.
Seriously, when are you getting off your ass to come find me? Surely you don't expect ME to come find YOU, right? I mean, hello! I celebrate the concept of equal rights and all that but I don't want to miss out on the getting swept off my feet part of the deal.
So quit your lolly gagging and start looking for me. Now.
Because, all I know is, eventhough I haven't met you yet, I already miss you.
I've become totally addicted to playing Vampire Wars on Facebook. Dagnabit. I think I'm getting better at it though. I used to play ass backwards. Now at least I'm making admirable progress as compared to rising up the levels but getting kicked on and ripped apart every 5 minutes.
Okay, I have to go check if I need to bank my blood now or if I've been hitlisted... again.
Due to recent disheartening events, I was able to get off early from work. I went home with every intention of catching up on sleep. Which I did. For 4 hours. I'm not really all that caught up, obviously.
So anyway, since I couldn't obviously go back to sleep, I went on a cleaning frenzy. And because I could never do anything without any music on, I popped in the soundtrack for Wanted.
To tell you the truth, and this may sound pretty childish, but I think I did stuff a tad better because I felt like I was an assassin, ridding the world of unwanted dust and grime.
There's nothing like folding your laundry to a musical score that makes you feel like you were dismantling a bomb instead of rolling up socks. Cool.
You know how most of the time, a scent hits you and it immediately triggers a landslide of emotions and you're left dumbfounded in the middle of a busy street, unsure of what to do next, an all-out emotional upheaval threatening to swallow you whole, unless you smell something totally different and everything returns to normal?
How you find yourself unable to move, think or even breathe because that smell is something you've tried to forget and has only recently semi-succeeded doing so?
How, from one minute, you've gone from being a normal, fully functioning human being to becoming a quivering mass of gibberish and tears?
How, that one scent can destroy months and months of self-therapy, of poring over self-help books, of making a conscious effort not to live like a hermit, buried under a pile of photographs, love letters and clothes left over from when you still lived together?
How, in that one moment, you're forced to face the reality that you haven't really moved on. You haven't really forgotten and you haven't really let go?
I almost got run over by a skateboarding maniac all because I caught the scent of his favorite cologne and all over again, my heart broke into a million pieces.
I spent the better part of the afternoon helping my bestfriend's son, Mico with his kumon worksheets. I don't know who had a harder time staying put, me or him. 20 minutes into the whole thing and I was getting antsy.
It was nice though. I got to "teach" again and there was peace in the land. Seeing as I took over the teaching responsibilities for the afternoon, the whole house was spared from all the ruckus that the mother and son tandem would have generated. Ah... peace.
In other news, the time has come to slip out of my frontaldisguise skin and shimmy into something less stressful and disappointing. Goodbye and good riddance.
Which reminds me, I have a video for my studmuffin. I just have to rewatch it and see if it's barf-proof. Haha.
I've always believed that people are inherently good. I am one of those schmucks who still think that you reap what you sow. So I try and be as decent as possible to the people in my life. I may not always succeed but I've never intentionally hurt anybody. Never had, never will. Karma and all that.
So, lemme just put it out there, just in case people get any ideas of taking advantage of the fact that I am, and will always be, an emotional pushover... I have a limit to the amount of bullshit I can and will take from people... and when that limit is reached...
I push back and I make abso-fuckin-lutely sure you fall off the edge. Try me.
Got it? Yeah? Alrighty then, let's now return to our regularly scheduled program of uninterrupted, no commercial breaks, Siege Love Parade Extravaganza.
me: i love you rich: YOU JUST KILLED ME me: hehehe me: yeah but I love you! me: doesn't that count for something? rich: not really rich: I'm dead me: ick. i hadn't thought of that.
I'm a pretty understanding, non-judgmental person. I'm a big fan of the live and let live philosophy. I'm not a god so I can't smite anybody and I don't want to. I've got enough problems of my own without taking on the world's morality on my shoulders.
But. And this is a doozy...
I have no respect, understanding, patience or forgiveness for baby killers, adulterers and prostitutes.
There is no reason, no circumstance that can justify killing an unborn child, coveting and sleeping with someone else's spouse and selling your body for a few thousand bucks. No reason. None.
Ok, maybe you were taken by force. Nobody should have to go through that and all rapists should go to hell. But... I still don't think it justifies killing the unborn child. Bring it to term, give it up for adoption. More humane, don't you think?
18 years old and got pregnant by your booty call? SUCK IT UP. Don't damn yourself to hell by killing the unborn child. Like I said, bring it to term then give it up for adoption. It's not its fault you were a slut, is it?
As for adulterers and prostitutes... you have no shame. None. I hope you all burn in hell.
When I look in the mirror I see me. All the time. Even when I sneak up on it and pounce unannounced, I still see me. There's no escaping me. You would think I'd stop trying but nooooo, there must be some way to peek into the mirror and see someone else.
A mask. I thought that would help. But beneath the cardboard catface, it's still me. I even tried drawing on a mustache and maybe dotting in some freckles. Perhaps that would do the trick. No, the smirk is still mine, the eyes that look back - mine.
Maybe if I spin around really fast and then stop abruptly before checking the mirror. Surely that would make me go all dizzy and I'll lose all perspective so when I look in the mirror I might not see me but someone else. Not only did it not work but my lampshade got knocked into smithereens in the process. Wait, let me check now. Maybe now someone else will stare back. Nope. Still me.
I bite my lower lip and think really hard. Why can't I see someone else? Someone other than me. I promise I won't be mean to it like I sometimes am to me. I won't nitpick and point fingers and call it names. I won't enlarge the flaws and hide the sparkles. I will praise, love and embrace.
I won't ridicule and hate. I'll be more forgiving and accepting. I shall bring it to the moon and eat mooncakes with it while jumping around the craters. We'll have fun and we'll laugh and sing and dance. We will pucker our lips at each other and pretend we're fun flapper girls with pearl necklaces longer than our dresses.
I want to see someone else besides me. I'm sure the me on the other side would like that too. I haven't asked me though. Maybe I will tomorrow. After I try once more. If I fail, me and I will talk. If I succeed, I'll tell me and we all can be friends.
