It’s nothing
Nothing is greater than God, nothing is more evil than the devil, the poor have nothing, the rich need nothing and if you eat it you’ll die. Tadaam! Bitter was smart enough to find the answer, but Mooselicker came close with Robin Hood.
For more riddles like this one, go and take a look here!
Q&A: the poor have it, the rich need it, if you eat it you’ll die…
On Motherventing’s demand, I have a new riddle for you! You may guess for the real answer, you may make up your own,doesn’t matter. The one who’s right will be honoured, but the one who makes me laugh out loud will be treated equally. So have a guess!
It is greater than God and more evil than the devil. The poor have it, the rich need it and if you eat it you’ll die. What is it?
When I reveal the answer, I’ll also reveal the site I got this from. Now, shoot!
Who talks about Twilight when you have this…?
And you thought Robert Pattinson was hot?
Twilight is so last year!
*mind the spelling, this is SO well done*
It’s white paint, of course
So, you did your best to guess what is white and smells like black paint… Mooselicker was the second one who revealed the truth! It is – very disappointing – white paint.
(Permission to roll your eyes and sigh)
But there’s been some good guessing though. I will always remember the images in my head caused by ‘seagull trapped in black paint’ or ‘a black polar bear’. Nice tried, people. Unfortunately the truth is mostly not as fun as imagination!
EDIT: I made a horrible mistake! Becoming Bitter was one hour before Mooselicker! I hope she forgives me, and that you will visit her site- bitter is better.
What’s white and smells like black paint?
Today, I have a joke/question for you. It’s pretty ehm, ‘funny’. The first to guess what it is, get’s a mention, I promise :).
(I know, quite dull if you know the answer, but I’m looking forward to some guessing…)
Beauty is on the inside, but looks aren’t
Therefore I never leave the house without any make-up. It’s not like my face is covered in cremes and stuff, I’m not a bimbo, but I do put on some mascara and perfume. I won’t leave the house without that disguise. It’s a simple thing to do and it makes me look a lot better (at least, that’s what I think). Character is indeed the most important thing, but I can’t help it either that we do have a face. Let’s make the best out of it then.
Some make-up can change your face for better
When I feel like I’m looking good, I feel better. So you won’t see me walking around in jogging trousers and no make-up.
What do you always do before you leave your house?
How to keep tights alive
You know those tights made of nylon? Men will scratch their heads now, but women will say “Oh, yes, those things that are even more fragile than a painting of the 17th century”, or something like that. But here’s your guide to keep them alive and kicking:
1. Don’t have nails. Check your fingers and toes for these things. Tear them out when present.
2. Don’t move while wearing them. Try to reduce breathing as much as possible. Never close your eyes when they were opened when putting on the tights. Be a statue.
3. Have a house made of terry (fabric).
4. Remove any sharp object before putting the tights on. Only round, fluffy things can stay. Don’t touch them though. If you move, your warranty is no longer.
5. Don’t wear them. Put them under a glass bell that you keep in a dark room (vacuum when possible). Never let anyone enter that room.
If anything goes wrong, even when having obeyed these rules, then contact us.
Dear blank messages
I found these on Chiquero, who got them from Dear blank, please blank.
They are fucking hilarious.
The “where did I leave it?” Syndrome
It’s in this house. I’m quite sure of that. Not completely, but I have no idea where to start searching if it ain’t here. It could be in that room. Would be probable. Or in that one. Possibly. I’ll search here first. Lots of papers, it seems. It could be hidden in this mountain of maths exercises and history facts. But it isn’t. I should throw all this rubbish away. Not now. I’m too busy searching.
It might just be here, beneath old thoughts and believes. No. Another bunch of papers that is no disguise for what I search. Damnit.
Ok, next. It MUST be here. I remember myself saying ‘This is important. I should keep it somewhere safe’. Did I leave it here? What was that safe place again? I remember it like it were yesterday. I wanted to put it away so I could find it anytime.
Here I sit, I feel my head getting sweaty. Fuck this. Fuck this. Why isn’t it here? Come on, where could I have left that stupid asshole-thing? Fucking papers everywhere – I don’t need you. All this books can shut the fuck up, aaarrrgghh, I should get rid of all this rubbish. And where is that stupid….?
I hear a door. I hear steps. It’s my mother. She has kids, which is equal to be able to find things within a few minutes. I laugh calmly (oh so fucking calmly) to her and ask very innocently: “Have you accidentally seen that thing?”
It only takes a few minutes to find something. But first, you have to give birth to a baby.
You’re doing it wrong…
After fifteen years of hard work, dedication and a standard half-comatose condition, a teacher we have finds it necessary to tell us how we should study. After all those years of learning, after all those tests that made us end up at that school, after which we have to go to university to be able to get a job, we can’t study.
We got a document, telling us what we should do, how we should do it etcetera. And while reading it, I could only think I’m doing it wrong.
I’m doing it wrong, people. There is a great chance that later, they’ll have to pay me per minute, but I’m not doing it right. Instead of reading my lessons all over when coming home from school, I’m blogging. Instead of reading things out loud, I sing along with (great) songs. Instead of studying the way I should, I’m having something that resembles to A Life. Imagine. A Life! While going to school! Imagine. Can’t be. But unlike some history teachers, I seem to live in the Now. I didn’t know it, until – eh – now.
I’m sorry if it bothers you that I use my marker, or that I write my notes somehow different than you do, but it seems to work for me, so I’m not really sorry at all. AT ALL. Thanks for the tips and now shut up because there are two (maybe three!) people waiting for a post on this very blog. And that’s what I’m doing now, and I’m doing it right.
*well, maybe not that right, I’ve been editing this thing six or seven times*
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