Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

Believe it or not, that is an actual, genuine grammatically correct sentence. And because you probably don't believe me - like I didn't believe it when I first read it - I went and found out WTF it's supposed to mean.

Now. There are three meanings of the word 'buffalo'. A noun, a proper noun and a verb. One is the animal [noun], one is the city in America [proper noun] and the third is the less-known word for 'intimidate' or 'bully' [verb].

The plural for buffalo is, like sheep and fish, just buffalo. But for the sake of simplicity I'll call it buffaloes or this won't make much sense.

The first 'Buffalo' refers to the city [notice the capitalisation of the PROPER NOUN], the second refers to the animal; Buffalo buffalo, ie buffaloes from Buffalo.

The third and fourth are also the city and the animal respectively. The fifth is 'bully'.

So so far, we have Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo, meaning 'buffaloes from Buffalo that buffaloes from Buffalo bully'. In other words, in a population of buffaloes, there are some buffaloes that bully other buffaloes within the population. Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo. The capitalisation of the first and third buffalo is a hint here.

The sixth buffalo means bully, and the seventh and last are the city and the animal.

Now we have Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo [ie, from what we worked out before, buffaloes from Buffalo that buffaloes from Buffalo bully] bully buffaloes from Buffalo. Here, we have a human-like situation; bullies that bully people because they get bullied. Make's 'em feel big. Lulz. Anyway.

SO. Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo could be re-written as:

Buffaloes from Buffalo, that buffaloes from Buffalo bully, bully buffaloes from Buffalo.

Another example of this same sentence could be: if you replace the city with Manchester, the animal with dog and bully as itself, the sentence would be:

Manchester dogs that manchester dogs bully, also bully manchester dogs.

In other words, the dogs in manchester [the ones that get bullied by other dogs in Manchester], they themselves bully other dogs from manchester.

In conclusion, Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

Is this, or is this not THE most genius sentence in the world?!?!!? YUS I DO THINK SO.

Oh the long, beautiful days of summer.

I can never tell what that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach is. It could be down to a whole load of things, which I will cleverly and conveniently list here:

• Exams - I only have one left but I'm still terrified of what's going to happen with it. Chemistry is a wonderful subject. This exam however, may well be the end of my life as I know it.
• Results - I've done four of my five summer '10 exams. D1, C4, Biology and M2. [funny how the vast majority of my exams are always maths ones, yet I'm never going to need any maths whatsoever, ever during my life at med school. Well, other than the ability to count to ten when giving injections.
• No more college - my college days are officially over. Which also means that any authority I've ever had [class rep, health ambassador, teacher's pet etc][for once, I'm not actually joking about the teacher's pet thing... freaky]
• Summer holidays - *utter screams of delight* I want to call them honeyed hours. Why? Because they're going to be sweet, slow, sickly, bright and will make me very thirsty. Does that appeal to anyone else? Hah. Love it.
• People - I'm not sure about this one. Ever get this scratching feeling in your guts when you think about someone? I'm not talking about like... lovey-dovey icky sickening crap or anything. Just.. I dunno, it's kinda hard to explain. Like recently I've got back in touch with a lot of people and whenever I think about it I kinda get this feeling that says 'this is what happened, you'll never see it again, it's all memories'. Think of it this way. When you fill a hole in the ground with concrete, if a bug or a leaf or something falls into the cement mix, it'll be there forever. You'll never find it again unless you dig up the concrete and smash it to bits. In fact, you might not even know what you're looking for. And if you do find it, whatever it is, it'll be dead. Does that not frighten you? Or is it just me?

All these seem like pretty plausible explanations. But it could just be as simple as I haven't been to the gym for about three months and I'm absolutely gagging for it.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

These days I seem to spend the majority of my time waiting for things that, deep down, I know aren't going to arrive yet, but even so I can't help but.. well, wait.

• Waiting for the post/email to arrive
This is probably the most annoying of the lot. I'm waiting for a letter that's going to decide whether I'm moving out in 6 months time or whether I'm going to spend the next year stacking shelves at Aldi. It's coming soon, by April 5th at the absolute latest. But it's killing me.

• Waiting for people
Any time I detect the slightest hint of the person I'm waiting for.. but then realise it was my mind playing tricks on me.. my God, worst feeling ever. But every single time, every single time I find myself getting all excited before realising there's nothing to get excited about.

• Waiting for something to happen
In other words, procrastination. I am a master at procrastination. In some ways, I'm a workaholic. I can't get enough of it. But that's untilI get that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I should (A) I should go back and check if that letter/email has arrived yet or not, or (B) the person I'm waiting for has arrived.

OHBOY.

I am the music man, and I come from far away.

When I was little, I used to go to this Playgroup thing... it was like preschool, only the 'teachers' were just volunteers. We used to sing all these different songs like I Am The Music Man and Hot Cross Buns and Five Little Men. The one song that I'll never understand though, is Wind The Bobbin Up.

Wind the bobbin up,
Wind the bobbin up,
Pull, Pull, Clap, Clap, Clap.
Point to the ceiling
Point to the floor
Point to the window
Point to the door
Put your hands upon your knee.

What's that even about? How are kids meant to know what a bobbin is? I didn't learn until GCSE textiles for God's sake. My mum says it's just a way of teaching kids new words. I call it a mass of useless words.

We only ever use 10% of our brains to learn. I don't know what percentage of my brain that's taken up, but it's a percentage too many.

As much as I love Gaga, what the HELL is this?!

She looks like a goddamned victorian lampshade. NO, GAGA, NO.

So anyway, Gaga aside. Have you ever noticed how there are some people out there that could screeeeeaaaammmmm their utter heads off at you and be really scary, yet it has no effect on you whatsoever? Other than the obvious 'pfft, what a pile of cow shit' of course. Well, there are some people who could give you a look that makes your insides twist and contort before ripping themselves to shreds? It's not even a look of 'you fucking dumbshit' more a look of 'weeelll... I sorta disagree...' Now, I shan't mention any names, nor will I go into it further because it's a long story without a point xD

Mr Sandman,
Bring me a dream,
Make him the cutest,
That I've ever seen...

That is one GOOD song.

You know what's been on my mind for a while? When I was in reception, we had a competition once. We were given a bag of rectangles of paper cut from magazines and some of those split pin thingies, and we were told to make the longest chain we could using the rectangles and the split pins. At the end of it, each of us were given a smiley-face sticker. At break time... erm... this bit of the memory is missing... onto the next bit. Now. There was this girl whose name I don't remember. She came up to me and *scene missing*. Then she peeled my smiley-face sticker off my cardie, stuck it onto hers and pomposly walked off.

In primary school, I was that strange little kid everyone has in their class. One of my front teeth were missing, my hair, which started off in pigtails, was all over the place by the end of the day, my uniform covered in stains and my shoes covered with mud... all that was missing was the monobrow. I could'a been a cavegirl. This girl [who I thought looked like a pig] was the most immaculate, cute little child ever. She had a neatly cut bob, rosy cheeks, all her teeth still intact etc etc... so, when I go up to a teacher and complain that my sticker was stolen, who do they believe? Immaculate little angel [or pig in a wig], or cavegirl? No-one believed me. Oh, life is hard.

On the other hand, my teacher gave me some tinsel later that day, I guess that makes up for it ^_^ It's all good. Meh. I'm not sure why I'm saying this. Makes a better blog than the rubbish I usually post though.. I think?

Meh. Night y'alls
xXx

Oh, le heavens. If I ever get my hands on those bloody cold germs...

... I'll wrap my fingers around their er.. cell body, then squeeze as hard as I can until they die of oxygen starvation.

My cold has been there for a good two months.

You little bastard.

I've come to the conclusion that despite all our fabulous scientific advances and modern human ways, the human race is getting more and more stupid. The lack of winnings on The Weakest Link is quite a good indication. Plus the fact that I first spelt 'weakest' as 'weekest'. What the hell is 'weekest!? xD

I don't know how to describe it really, it just seems like the world is getting dimmer and dimmer. For example. Cycling home from college today. I cycle down a path. Not a narrow one or anything, just a regular path. A girl was walking along on this path. I asked her to kindly move, she didn't hear me as her headphones were in. So I thought, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuurck this, I'll cycle on the grass. She shrieked, and moved TOWARDS me. TOWARDS. What the HELL. Dumbshit.

Ah, I'm feeling lazy. Cannot be bothered to write any more. Oh, except that my sister has a word for 'sugarcube'. Chingan. Chingan chingan chingan chingan chingan chingan. Wonderful word xD

Meh. Good evening fellow blogger xD

xXx

Back pain. A woman's worst nightmare... well, except wrinkles. Apparently.

I did some research on back pain. Apparently all your weight rests on two joints in your back, sitting isn't a natural position, bedrest makes it worse, 80% of people get it at some point in their life and mattreses have to be firm O_o

If and when I get into medicine, I'm going to pick something back pain or joint pain related as a student selected component. My doctor has about 10 models of skeletal parts in his room thing. I want a skeleton. A REAL one :O

My mum thinks I'm crazy, she seriously does. Here's how the converation went:

Neda: *whilst looking at a photo* I don't like my chin...

Mum: Why, what's wrong with it?

Neda: Well... I don't really have much of a chin...

Mum: What?

Neda: It's not... there really. It's more of a....... I dunno, some people have a double chin, I just have a no-chin

Mum: *weird look*

Neda: What's that look for?

Mum: You need therapy.

Neda: Why?

Mum: Because if it was up to you you'd go to a surgeon and ask them to replace your face with playdough. You have problems.

Gee, thanks mum.

You know what I find scary? The thought that if a tooth falls out, I'll never have a real tooth again. It's been there since birth, but suddenly it's gone forever. My mum chipped her tooth once and she went to the dentist and had veneers put in to fix the weird gap-toothed thing that was going on. If it was me, I'd be bothered by it. A lot.

Cheryl Cole has veneers. Her teeth before were frickin weird o_o

I now feel that I have proof that with a nice bit of cosmetic dentistry, a load of hair dye, some false eyelashes and a bucketful of makeup, anyone could look good. Heck, I want to be a plastic surgeon! =D

Lady Gaga is fabulous. Not as fabulous as Naomi Campbell of course, no-one could be as fabulous as Naomi Campbell. Not even Diana Ross. But fabulous all the same. I mean seriously, what in God's name is THIS?!

I thought she was naked underneath at first until I noticed she has no genitals. Meaning she's probably wearing a beige leotard underneath. And that her fishnets finish at the knicker line. Well, unless she really doesn't have genitals and her fishnets are either tattooed on or they're a genetic defect... which I somehow doubt. I'm going to get her album. You just can't have someone THAT weird in the music industry and not get her album. A physical copy though, not a download. Pffft the whole point in music is the CDs.

Ah I dunno, my back is killing me. I'm off.