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azelya Oct. 09, 2004 -- 12:32 p.m. |
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| And Amanda is BACK after some soul-searching and whatnot. Yeah yeah yeah, you're all excited. Stuff it. REVIEW TIME!
azelya Username - What the fuck is azelya? To dictionary.com! And I got nothing. Is it your name? What a weird fuckin' name. No offense or anything. And you don't explain it anywhere. So I'll just assume it's your name for the time being. If it's not, I'm going to be pissed, but I'm sure you saw that coming. First Impression - Purple. And a green scrollbar. Well. I'm certainly excited to be doing this review. Excuse me while I hang myself. Errors - The way your entry is never centered right pisses me off. That's not really your fault, but still. And could you move that counter to somewhere else? It's irritating up there. Maybe put it down with the navigation or something. And green and purple... that's definitely an error. 7/10 Layout - Gag me with a motherfucking spoon. Credit to somber designs! 3/20 Content - Whoah. First entry I read is about fucking google searches. How original. I'm telling you though, you haven't lived until you've gotten a hit for "nazi prostitute". Which I have. Obviously. And the rest of the entry is just stupid. That was nice. And by nice, I mean pointless. "Little ole person like me"? Repeat that. Now tell me that's not the most retarded sentence you've ever read. You can't do it, can you? You know why? Because it is, in fact, the most retarded sentence ever. Congratulations. Also pointless. I don't care about your fucking Mac. I don't care about your kid. I care a little bit about sharpies, but that was pretty much it. Next time, write about how you couldn't get the marker off after all, and you were forced to beat your child to death as compensation. That might be kind of interesting to read. All that happens is it tells you "oops, sorry, you've already named one that before!" and it lets you re-name it. It doesn't delete anything, so don't worry about it. Damn. This is disappointing. It's all just daylog. And not good daylog, either. Bad daylog. Where are the deep revelations? The funny stories? The fond [or not so fond] memories? They're not here, that's for damn sure. The last bithere is okay, I guess. But the first part could have been skipped. So I've run into a couple of entries about raising your children, and feel obligated to say something. You can't protect your children from the world. You believe you are doing the right thing in not letting them watch any TV or go on the internet so much, but all it does is pique their interst and make them want it even more than they would if you would let them have it somehow. It's not your fault or anything as a parent, it's just how humans are. You probably won't listen to me, and will continue trying to keep your kids from society and let them see only beauty, but they won't ever appreciate beauty if they don't see ugliness, too. You need both. Aaaand stepping off the soap box. Whoah, an entry about feces. It's time to stop reading now, before I vomit. Well. I've pretty much made my opinion clear. You daylog too much. You live a life I can't relate to, and you don't write about it in a way that makes it easy for me to understand or even care. I disagree with your parenting style, for the most part. You know what? I'm tired of fucking giving advice. I told you what I don't like, it's up to you to figure out how to fix it, or to tell me to kiss your ass. Not that I would reccomend the latter or anything. 10/65 Would I Come Back? - No. 0/5 Bonus - Yeah. Nothing. 0/5 Total - 20/100. I'm done! Woo! Party time! Reviewed by Amanda | ||
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