“May all your troubles last as long as your New Year's resolutions.”
-Joey Adams

Happy holidays cutie pies! Isn’t it a lovely day today? If you are wondering if I was drinking to be in this enthusiastic state, the answer is no, I wasn’t. Yet. I am just over the moon because I am on vacation! I mean, compared to the three months I get each summer, these two weeks may seem meaningless, but they are actually a blessing.

I may be on the verge of becoming religious since I’ve experienced a true Christmas miracle: not a single one of my teachers sent us homework. None. Not even my Portuguese teacher!! And there are only two possible explanations: either he has early onset Alzheimer’s and forgot or God Himself felt sorry for all of us and made sure we had no homework.

            But either waaaay, these holidays are already getting better. Christmas is that magical time of year when we can give in to our materialistic cravings and not feel guilty about it. Besides, don’t forget about all the food! This year I plan to eat my way through the holidays, I’ll deal with the guilt and the extra 17kg later. I can even put it in my list of New Year’s resolutions. I already wrote it, and here it is:

1.      Find a cure for the New Year’s party hangover.

2.      Loose the holiday’s gained wait.

3.      Don’t be such an idiot.

4.      Get my driver’s license.

And the first goal of my list leads me to my next topic: New Years Réveillon! If Christmas is a family holiday, then New Year is every liver’s worst nightmare. You know what they say: brand new year, brand new life hangover. I haven’t figured out what are exactly my plans. At first I was torn between Las Vegas (What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, isn’t it right, Prince Harry?), and renting a private jet (What’s classier than a party in the sky?), but then I remembered: Oh wait, I’m NOT a billionaire. So I’ll probably just go out with my friends, better than nothing.

            This is it for today, if you, unlike me, are a billionaire and own a private jet, I’m open to invitations and would be more than happy to delight you with my witty remarks. I’ll see you next year, happy holidays everyone.

 The Joker,

Sophie Grey

“Power was my weakness and my temptation.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

                Hey there, how are my favorite loonies doing? This week’s post is about the most epic subject of all times: me. Can I get a round of applause? Thanks, you’re lovely. But, carrying on, I’ve put my talent to write random non-sense to good use, and decided to tell you about my week. And it has been a heck of a week! I seem to have a special gift. And this curse gift causes me to get involved in pretty much anything that will eventually consume a good deal of time and energy. That being said, I have found myself caught in a political jungle. I am part of a group that’s running for my school’s domination student association.

               Since we’re a small school, there are only sixty senior students, and those sixty ended up divided into three groups: the team L, the team M (which was indubitably superior in absolutely everything), and the truly smart people who didn’t get involved in the feud. We all know each other’s names, and gossip and rumors spread faster than the plague. So it is fair to say that there was little bit of rivalry between us all. And this “little bit” occasionally translated to a sudden urge to punch some people in the face.

            For the (thankfully) short period of a week, we forgot we were all friends and a craving for power took over. Now, you might be wondering: Why? Why did both groups wanted to win so badly? Honestly, that remains a mystery given that whoever wins will simply gain more work and responsibility. But we wanted it, oh we wanted it bad! Just the satisfaction of winning was enough; the power to spend the rest of the school year bragging about our glorious victory. If someone offered us the job, we might have said no. But, as in a playground, we wanted the one toy that that other kid was playing with, even though there were dozens of other toys laying around.

            And so there was a clash of titans; we gazed fiercely at each other, we fought, we accused our opponents of stealing our ideas, of stealing our credit, and both sides struggled to be always one step ahead of the other. We were idiots.

             But now it’s over, we still don’t know who won, but… does it really matter? The answer: YES. I want to win. (Sorry, but we can’t all be altruistic and selfless, I mean I’m human, give me a break).

 The Joker,

Sophie Grey

"Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."

- Mark Twain

       Hello, my wicked friends, how’s life been treating you? Not too well, I hope. Once again, I’m here to entertain you and make you giggle like a school girl. Let's speak of the eternal battle between good and evil, shall we? Do you know the novel Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde? Since you’re all ignorants, I bet you don’t. So, this is not only the literary version of the bipolar disorder, it is also a perfect example of good vs evil, a clash of titans you don’t want to miss! At your right, ladies and gentleman, weighting whatever he weighs, let’s hear it for Dr. Jekyyyyll!!! And his opponent; at your left, weighting 66,6Kg, Mr. Hyyyyde!!! Let’s give it up for both of them

      Moving on, now that I’ve stopped being an idiot (…Is that even possible?), lets get down to business. This is a story of deep carnal love between two men and their sexual encounters... Just kidding (although that might be fun to read during a class), this is a story of a man named Dr. Jekyll. This man appears to be a true gentleman, doing good and all that crap. However, Dr. Jekyll is a total nut job who has a dark side. But his dark side is not like everyone else’s, because he invented a drug (that junkie) which allows his worse half to come alive. He has a body and all! And his name, of course, is Mr. Hyde. Now, Mr. Hyde doesn’t take crap from anyone, he’s the kind of guy you don’t want to find yourself alone with in a dark alley. Which is kind of a shame isn’t it? Because when you think about bad boys, you think about a risk taker, sexy badass; not a twisted, repulsive man who runs over little children. But I guess that’s life isn’t it? Some people call it karma, I call it a bitch.

       Unfortunately, everything in life has a dark side, even gummy bears. Even I do, although I’m not entirely sure what it is, and maybe I should call it my stupid side, other than my dark side since it consists in occasionally eating like a bear and saying nonsense. Actually, do you know what do I do when I feel that strong, unstoppable, almighty urge to say something idiotic? I write in my blog! Everyone should have people to read their stupidities, I mean it, this is better than therapy.

       But concerning good and evil…I have another one of my theories. This one is called “You haven’t seen half of it”, and it’s based on the Murphy’s Law, which states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. This law has a bucket load of variants, and one of them says: if things start out well, they end up badly.  And if things start out badly, they end up even worse”. So, translating this to the good-evil duality, when you meet someone good, you think they must have a dark side. You’re right. And when you meet someone bad, you think that they must have a better side right? NO!! The point is that it’s always downhill from that point on. So, my advice? Get the hell out of there before you come across atrocities such as prostitution, organized crime, or, the worst of them all… someone chewing with their mouth open.

       So, stay delusional and don’t show anyone your dark side. I’ll see you next week, but before I go, I’ll give you something to reflect on: if I eat myself, will I disappear or be twice as big?

The Joker,

Sophie Grey

      

"The trick is growing up without growing old."

- Casey Stengel

     

      Well good night to you all, my nutty friends, did you behave properly since our last meeting? I bet you didn't.

      Shakespeare (that madman) once said that the whole world is a stage. But guess what? It’s not honey. The whole world is indeed a show, but a much more exciting, unexpected and freaky one: a circus. And in this life, we are all freak shows whether we like it or not. Good thing I do.

      I’ll begin to explain: our life has six stages. During our childhood, we are animals. It sounds rough to say it but it’s true: we basically eat and sleep. Other than that we just do a few tricks our parents taught us and look cute while people stare at us. Also, everyone likes children/animals on a part-time basis: they are great for 15 minutes but after that people start to lose interest.

      When childhood comes to its end and our parents start to sigh from relief…Hello puberty! It’s every parents’ worst nightmare: a teenager. And what could a teenager be other than a trapeze? We are a bunch of careless idiots who think that can freaking fly.  And we don’t even think we need a safety net, no sir. Good think we have our parents to catch us when we fall. They are essential, yes, but let’s just admit they make a very paranoid, controlling, crazy net sometimes.

      As we say goodbye to our permanently euphoric hormones, we should expect to say hello to a more mature stage of our life. We wish! Don’t forget those years fresh out of college, when you get your first job, earning the minimum wage, ahhh… that’s the life. Do you know what we are then? The clowns, my friend. The base of the food chain, whether you have to get coffee or make balloon animals, you’re always bossed around like crazy and make a fool out of yourself.

      But then…ah, adulthood at last! And if children are animals, adults have to be the trainers, always apparently in control. This is the first time in your life that you’re in charge. Sounds great doesn’t it? Well, it might not be so great when the lion aims for your throat or you realize you didn’t pay the water bill in the middle of your morning shower and there’s no one to rescue you.

      And next, boy and girls, please welcome the mid life and its consequent crisis. These loonies are equilibrists: struggling to find balance between youth and old age. Those who buy a sports car are trying to get back to their youth and those who crumble under fatalities such as dining at 7pm are clearly pending towards old age. And I know that these are clichés, but remember that clichés became clichés for a reason.

       Here we come to an end: old age. They are the circus audience; they just sit there and watch. If you think this is boring you’re right wrong. Because they may just watch, but remember that at least they have popcorn, glow sticks and candy. Yes, the candy of life, which is retirement: waking up whenever you please and doing whatever you please. What a shame that none of us will actually have one right? Lucky us!

      However, remember that a  Joker is not a clown, never. A clown is a fool, the Joker is the master of the show. I do what I want, when I want and with whom I want as long as my mom allows me to. 

      And before I say goodbye, I must thank a very special friend, her name is Poison Ivy and she has the privilege to read my non sense before anyone else, she helps me out when inspiration gets mad at me and  when I need to find pictures of bears riding bicycles. This blog would certainly be possible without you, but it would most likely suck as well. 

      See you next week fellows.

The Joker, 

Sophie Grey

"Illusion is the first of all pleasures"

- Oscar Wilde

Just so we’re clear, this is not the movie of my life. This is just a pretty cool movie that got me thinking. So, without further waiting, this week, at Sophie’s show, I introduce you to – give me a drum roll please – Truman’s Show! Starring Hollywood’s clown, Jim Carrey (sorry Jack Black, but there’s no shame in being number 2), this is a hilarious although conscious movie. And with this I mean that this is the kind of movie you’ll think about in the shower, when you’re trying to fall asleep and, of course, during those classes (let’s face it, you can try to look focused all you want, but there’s no way I’ll believe that you’re listening to a word of what’s being said).

            Truman’s Show was made to mess with your mind. This is a movie about illusion and ignorance. If you’re a paranoid fellow who believes that they are out to get you (YOU KNOW WHO THEY ARE), perhaps you should watch something lighter, maybe a musical like Mamma Mia! or a predictable romantic comedy with a worn out plot and Jennifer Aniston.

Truman Burbank lives in an island called Seahaven. He’s living the American dream, he has a nice job, a nice house, a nice wife and he lives in a nice town. But as you watch the movie, you realize that it is all too perfect. Yes, we’d all like to live in a perfect world where everybody chews with their mouth closed and you can always find the end of the duck tape. But that does not happen. And as we continue to watch the movie, we realize that Truman is living a lie. Without knowing it, he is the star of the oldest, most popular, most sick show in the world! As a baby, he was adopted by a TV network (for Christ’s sake, is that even legal?) and from then on he lived in a fake world and town, with fake friends and a fake family. If you thought that Pamela Anderson’s breasts were fake just take a look at Truman’s life.

            Eventually he finds out something’s wrong and after going through hell and high water he finally gets a one way ticket out of that freak show. But then again… he spent 30 freaking years not knowing! That kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it? I must confess that I spent the week after watching the movie completely paranoid, looking at people as if they were all actors and I was the only one that didn’t know the truth about the world. I probably made a fool out of myself the whole week a couple times, but oh well, that wouldn’t be a first.

            Aside the fact that this movie is sort of mind shattering, it also is a social critique. Throughout the movie we can see Truman’s audience all around the world, and – damn! – they look like idiots. I confess that I am kind of an outcast when it comes to most reality shows, I don’t watch them and I have a very legitimate theory about them: They make you stupid (Did you hear that, Secret Story? Yes, I’m talking about you). I believe that as you watch these shows, you start to create new brain cells that feed of intelligent thoughts and ideas. The more of these cells you have, the more stupid you get. This is a valid theory. Trust me, I have a blog.

            So, just to conclude this week’s assignment, I have to tell you: WATCH Truman’s Show. Just do it. Make a good use of your mad piracy skills and download it of the internet, since I know for a fact you won’t rent it, you smooth criminals. And maybe when you are done watching it you can let go of some of your illusions as well, like thinking you can cook or believing that “one more drink won’t hurt” when you already threw up in your friend’s shoes. For next week, using my extremely sharp, genius and humble mind, I’ll redefine the world as we know it, so stay in touch.

The Joker,

Sophie Grey

     Eloquence is logic on fire

- Lyman Beecher

Today I’d like to discuss a certain kind of man. There are many kinds of men: the womanizer; the nerdy one, the guy that’s always in the friendzone (let’s have a moment of silence for these ones) and many others. But the kind of man I’m referring to is the one that knows his way around words and can basically talk his way out of any situation. He’s the kind of man your mom warned you about.

      The movie Elizabeth, the Golden Age has a man like this. Ladies and gentleman, lets give it up for Sir Walter Raleigh. This guy is charming and he knows it! And yes, the fact that he isn’t at all bad looking also acts in his favour. He works with mommy and daddy gave him and he does it well! How many men could be welcomed in the Queen’s court as a pirate? How many men could make that Queen fall in love with them? How many men could turn the Queen down and then impregnate and marry her maid (yes, in that order, they didn’t fool me)? And even after all that crap he pulled, his kid still got Elizabeth’s blessing. That eloquent bastard! He’s the man we love to hate.

      Walter Raleigh offered Elizabeth potatoes (POTATOES for crying out loud!), and made it sound like an exquisite offer! He enchanted women (and some men too, I bet) with his description of the New World. That was a mind blowing, earth shaking, heart breaking speech. To me, this was a turning point in the movie. Raleigh is no longer a pirate with a smart mouth and a potato fetish. He went through an upgrade. With that speech, he became a sexy mysterious, adventurous explorer. He gained credibility. Have you noticed the way Raleigh speaks? The way he whispers and pauses in all the right moments? There’s a certain kind of magic (not entirely sure if caused by alcohol or not) in the way he sees the New World. “Can you imagine what it is to cross an ocean? For days you see nothing but the horizon, perfect and empty”. And the way he slipped nudity into the speech? “Pray for a fair wind and hope. Pure, naked, fragile, hope...” The movie enthusiasts may go on and on about how the adjective naked symbolizes the wholesomeness of Raleigh’s hope in the unknown and all that, but I just think he’s very clever. Way to go Walter! (Round of applause) You successfully planted the seed of desire in the Queen’s heart, so now you’re free to have sex with the woman she trusted the most... Seriously, did you really think that was ok? What an idiot...

            Anyway, you can see for yourself how much of a delightful idiot this man is. He’s nice to keep around if you want to have a little fun and make the best of it. Because what can anyone say? Even the Queen of England had needs (I’m not entirely sure I can mention this kind of thing in an academic blog, but what the heck). However, be careful not to fall in love with him, since that’s what happened to our poor friend Lizzie, the Queen. Her life was tough, but not as much as they want us to believe. Sorry England, I don’t really think she died as a virgin, because even royalty needs to blow off some steam. And the English royalty is known for doing it like no one else. Isn’t that right prince Harry? How do you like billiards now? I bet grandma is disappointed. In her time, what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.

            Well, enough trashing on the English royalty; this is it for this week. As a closing, off topic comment, I must say that – SURPRISE, SURPRISE- my teacher is NOT the only one reading my blog! Yes, I was as stunned as you are. But then again, no one would know that people visit this online corner of joy and delight due to the number of comments I have. How many are there really? Oh yes, zero. I have the best readers in the world, don’t I?

           

The Joker,

Sophie Grey

What's in a name? That which we call a rose/

By any other name would smell as sweet

-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Hey there, fellow human.

Today I must address the extremely boring very serious matter of the evolution of English as a language and its different stages.

Oh Dear Lord… that sounded terribly dull… didn’t it? Well, how about I just summarize it for you? I’m not going to lie, it will still be pretty dull, but what can I do? I am not God (merely an unbelievable attractive mortal, not to brag). So please, don’t hate me when you yawn for the 13^th time while reading this; although I wouldn’t blame you if you did. However, I must confess I am not that worried people will hate this and stop reading my humble blog. Why? Because my only reader CAN’T stop reading my blog, given that she must grade it. I’m talking about you, Mrs. Rodeiro, sorry that you’re stuck here.

But I’m already all over the place, damn it Sophie, focus.

I was mentioning the evolution of English. Are you familiarized with the evolution of mankind? If you are, good for you, but this has nothing to do with it.

If you see things in a simple way, this is all about testosterone. Adults that are just grown up children with dangerous weapons who see other countries as the shiny new toy they must have. I say this because the evolution of English is all about conquests and invasions. First came the Romans, invading the Celtics, who later were invaded by the Anglo-Saxons, then the Vikings (Did they really wear those funny little hats?), then there was The Norman Conquest, which I assume was named after some guy named Norman… Confusing isn’t it? Is anyone else’s brain shaped like a pretzel?

The truth is that many English words take us back to the time when England was building its empire. They basically put on a blindfold, got into a ship and started sticking flags wherever they landed, taking their wealth, resources and, like that wasn’t enough, words. So, I believe we can fairly say that English doesn’t borrow from other languages. English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over and goes through their pockets for loose grammar and vocabulary.

Now I’d like to establish a comparison between two different periods of the English language: Early Modern English and Late Modern English. If you – like me – have an English book that led you to believe that these two stages aren’t very contrasting (linguistically speaking), DON’T BELIEVE IT! The only aspect they share is how immensely and extraordinary mind-numbing it is to study them. The genius that came up with the idea of teaching this in English classes should be fed to hungry wolves. I already abominate History classes, did you intent to ruin English as well (a class I actually enjoy), or did you think I’d find it interesting if it came in a new package? Anyway, you’ll quickly realize that these two stages are utterly different. Has someone ever told you that sometimes what matters isn’t what you say, but how you say it? Rhetorical question by the way. If you’ve never heard of it before I’ll just assume you live in a cave with very good Wi-Fi connection… Bat Cave perhaps?

Allow me to exemplify. Shakespeare once wrote: “The course of true love never did run smooth”. When was the last time you heard such beautiful expression of a thought you ignorant fool my dear reader? Shakespeare knew how to say things smoothly, and so did the people of his time, I like to believe. Now, let’s translate this to the 21^st century. Shakespeare’s beautiful phrase about true love would probably end up as: “Yeah Bro, gurls R messed up!!”. I mean…. what the hell?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! (Yes, I’m a fan of punctuation.) Ignoring the fact that people who write like that obviously lack depth, content and… well, a brain (no nice way to say this), I must ask: why are the people so possessed by abbreviations?? I’m drowning in stuff like LOL; LMAO; ROFL; BTW GTFO; S8, 4EVER… And ugh, the ones with the numbers are the worst. It’s not B4, it’s BEFORE. We speak English buddy, not bingo. Of course you can spare time if you write like that, but are five seconds that important? In five seconds you can do a lot, that’s for sure, but do things get done properly? I mean, you can insult someone in five seconds, but will that be a proper insult? Will it be the best insult you ever gave? – No. And if you’ll do something, you might as well do it right and don’t rush it.

So please, can’t we all just buy a dictionary, grow a brain, and discuss the beauty of a summer’s night dream instead of who saw the princess’ breasts?

The Joker,

Sophie Grey

"Madness, you see, is like gravity. All you need is a push!" - Joker, The Dark Night

      How are you doing during this troubled times? I hope you’re fine, although we live in a cruel world with disasters and injustices such as the fact that Pluto is no longer in the Solar System (I feel your pain Pluto); the fact that “performers” like Nicky Minaj and Pitbull are actually paid to make “music” (yes, paid in real money, not Monopoly bills); and also the fact that Mitt Romney is in the running for the USA presidency (someone please shoot that man). I don’t know about you, my dear reader, but these are the kind of things that keep me up at night.

      If you’d like to know, my name is Sophia Grey, I’m 18 years old young and I was born and raised in Norway. I’m just your average girl next door with some additional nerds and quirks. I’m actually convinced that my English teacher will be the only one reading my random thoughts, but what can I say? I decided to write a humor blog before I realized that – damn! – I’m actually not that funny. Oh well, this should be interesting. Just sit back and watch me sink. 

      Regarding my blog, I should warn you that there are two very serious things that I will not tolerate in it. The first one is discrimination of any kind. The second one is people who don’t seem to know the difference between “you’re” and “your”. Honestly, if someone texted me saying “Your stupid”, my answer would simply be: “My stupid is fine, thanks for asking! How’s yours?”. For God’s sake people, grammar is not that hard! In my list, that’s a crime even worse than going to McDonald’s and ordering a damn salad.

      Since all good things must come to an end, that’s all for this week. Consider having some sympathy for a girl who must suffer from some sort of cerebral malfunction and leave me some comments. If you don’t, I’ll probably just smother my sorrows in chocolate, so, please, save me from myself.

The Joker,

Sophia Grey