Saturday, May 30, 2009


Have you ever wished that you had superpowers? That you could do things no ordinary man could do. Control fire, bend space and time, leap tall buildings with a single bound? Powerful stuff.

I realized today, that if I could have a superpower, this is what I would want: the power to absorb a book with a single touch. And photographic memory. Just imagine: I could walk through a bookstore, running my finger along the shelves, and I'd have my own personal library. Rows upon rows of stories, encyclopaedias, journals, artbooks, graphic novels... I'd reach out a psionic hand, pull a book down, and start reading. Anytime, anywhere. When teachers get boring, I'd be able to flip through a thriller. Or on the bus. A whole reference section for exams. Hundreds of tomes, stored in my head. Wouldn't that be a blast?

All I need is to live in Kinokuniya.
The Edna Man

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Everybody deserves to shine.

Thanks to Mr Ng Yew Hong for this one.

Why do you have to be like others?
The Edna Man

Sunday, May 24, 2009


When you think about it, I could be on a aeroplane right now, sailing towards the most awesome competition of a lifetime, spending the next week only worrying about how much fun to have everyday.

Yet I'm still here.

The Edna Man

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Viva la Voce

Doin' my Viva Voce, parody of Livin' da Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

I got a new assignment
At first it looked so small;
But it was harsh confinement,
Four thousand words in all.

I had to pick a topic,
Research it day and night.
This text is microscopic;
Gonna make me lose my sight.

It occupies your whole mind
while you're sitting on the train;
And when you're finished writing it,
There is one thing that remains:
Essay verbally explained.
(Oh no!)

"What's your EE 'bout?"
Doin' da viva voce
"You really shouldn't shout,"
Doin' da viva voce,
The teachers stare at me:
"What's the point of this here survey?
Please explain page three,"
Doin' da viva voce,
Doin' da viva voce,
I'm doin' my viva voce.

I spent my whole holidays,
At the local library;
It was all work, and I never did play
My Guitar Hero or mp3s;

It makes you want to give up
and lobotomize your brain;
You better hope you get it right
Or one more year you're retained;
It will make you go insane!
(Oh no!)

"Where are your footnotes?"
Doin' da viva voce,
"You'll need to add good quotes,"
Doin' da viva voce,
"This is, without doubt,
the students' biggest cliche,"
I need a time out,
Doin' da viva voce,
Doin' da viva voce,
I'm doin' my viva voce

You can't cope with the pressure
And you cannot take the strain;
But you volunteered for this course,
So you really can't complain;
Or you'll do it all again!
(Please, no!)

"Please elaborate,"
Doin' da viva voce,
"And this point: can debate,"
Doin' da viva voce,
"And these sections aren't joined;
What's this paragraph trying to convey?"
"What's your learning points?"
Doin' da viva voce,

There to check for lies,
Doin' da viva voce,
In case you plagarize,
Doin' da viva voce,
He hands back my essay,
"Thank you, and that's all for today,"
I hope I get my A,
Doin' da viva voce,
Doin' da viva voce,
I've finished my viva voce.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Iiiiiittttt'sssss... HANGMAN!

Another day, another diary doodle. I haven't done one of these in a while.


Hangman! The Game Show

Because every execution needs an angry mob,
The Edna Man

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


We just love our freedom of speech, don't we?
The Edna Man

Monday, May 18, 2009

Very Busy People

Very Busy People by The Limousines

We'll end up numb from playing video games
And we'll get sick of having sex
And we'll get fat from eating candy
As we drink ourselves to death

We'll stay up late making mixtapes
Photoshopping pictures of ourselves
While we masturbate to these pixelated videos
Of strangers f**king themselves

We are very busy people
We are very busy people

There's crusty socks and stacks of pizza boxes
Making trails straight to the bed
And when we're done sleeping we'll stay busy dreaming
Of the things we don't have yet

Well, there's a long long list of chores and shit to do
Before we play, oh, let's just piss away the day
Crank call the cops down at the station just for friendly conversation
Requesting songs they've never played

Let's hear the one that goes like
We are very busy people
We are very busy people
But we've always got time for new friends

So come on over and knock on our door
It's open what'cha waiting for
We might be sprawled out on the floor
But we still make lovely company
Pull up a chair I'll pour some tea
We'll shoot the shit 'bout everything
Till you get sick of politics
And flip on the TV screen
We stare at the TV screen

That Donnie Darko DVD has been repeating for a week
And we know every single word
I've got an iPod like a pirate ship
I'll sail the seas with 50,000 songs I've never heard

And all the best of them go la la la la la la
La la la la la la
Fa la la la la la
Fa la la la la la

We are very busy people
We are very busy people
But we've always got time for new friends

Fa la la la la la
Fa la la la la la
Fa la la la la la
Fa la la la la la


Kudos to Juzzie for this one.

Note to self: finish parody of November.

We are very busy people,
The Edna Man

Friday, May 08, 2009

"Cheaters Never Prosper...

... and never change their spots, either," muttered Evnik, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. He steeled himself before striding over to the door, casting a wary eye over the numerous windows, each potentially hiding a quiver of crossbow bolts aimed in his direction. In an act of both great courage and lunacy, he grasped the brass knocker and rapped it three times.

Instantly, a small peephole slid open, and a pair of beady little eyes scrutinized him from head to toe. "You don't have to do this, Evnik," said the owner of the eyes. "You should turn back while you still can."

"I am a man of honour, Salin," said Evnik calmly. "Perhaps you should let me in, old friend. Your boss is expecting me."

The peephole slid shut with a snap. There was the sound of muffled clinking, before the stout wooden door creaked open. "On your own head be it, then," muttered Salin. "If it's still on once the Thief of Kings is done with you."

Evnik folled Salin through the winding corridors, never taking his hand off the hilt of his sword. They passed few people along the way; those Evnik made eye contact with greeted him a dirty look and a sneer.

"Don't expect good manners from anyone in here," said Salin, quite unnecessarily.

"Of course," said Evnik. "The Thieves' Guild is infamous for its hospitality."

"This ain't a hospital, innit?" a cloaked figure they had just passed shouted out. "You think we s'all clerics or summat? Greatest fool o' a warrior I've ever seen."

Evnik ignored him. "Now I know why this is called the Thieves' Guild. Its members have all had their brains stolen."

"We did have that Illithid insurgency a couple of weeks back," said Salin, "caused huge problems with the shadowmages on Level 9." He stopped abruptly in front of a pair of wrought iron gates. Beyond it was a short passway leading into an small arena. Evnik could see the rings of seats filled with thieves, vagabonds, muggers, robbers... every rogue in the city must have been there. Directly opposite him sat Kulthas Daggerhand, the Thief of Kings, atop a throne which appeared to be made of solid gold, encrusted with gemstones, sitting on an ornately carved stone dias.

"Good luck, old friend," said Salin, pushing the gates open. "I have a front row seat, in case you need - you know - help."

"I'll be fine Salin, thank you." Evnik strode through the gates, into the centre of the small ring. Jeers rained down on him from all sides, not to mention the various rotten fruit and broken bottles. Kulthas Daggerhand remained motionless, his face hidden by the shadow of his hood.

The arena fell silent. "Greetings, Lord Daggerhand," Evnik said loudly. "I believe it's time to attend to our unfinished business." He drew his sword, and leveled it at the Thief of Kings.

With a short, harsh laugh, Kulthas Daggerhand rose from his seat. "You have great courage, little man. Few would dare venture into the very heart of the Thieves' Guild. And of those who do, none make it out alive."

He stepped off the dias, walked over to Evnik, and placed his chest against Evnik's leveled sword. "Go on then," he growled. "Strike me."

Evnik didn't even flinch. "I will not strike a man while he is unarmed. Draw your weapon, and let's finish this."

The Thief of Kings threw back his head and roared with laughter. "I knew it! You are weak. Weak like all the others."He turned and put one foot on the dias, then stopped. "You have the chance to finish me off and you throw it away."

"It would not be right," said Evnik. "I am a man or honour, Lord Daggerhand."

"Your warrior's rules do not apply here, little man," Kulthas Daggerhand growled. With astonishing agility, he grabbed the hilt of his blade and whirled around, knocking Evnik's sword away with the force of his turn. "There is only one rule here: you die, you lose."

"Let's hope that you're not a sore loser, then," retorted Evnik, and he brough his sword around for another blow, only to be parried by the Thief of Kings. The clash of steel on steel was drowned out by the cheers of the surrounding rogues.

With a mighty kick, Kulthas Daggerhand sent Evnik flying into the stands. He landed, disoriented, in the hands of Salin, his old friend. A mighty cheer erupted from the rogues, and the Thief of Kings turned to face them, hands held high in victory.

With the Rogue Lord distracted, Salin whispered in Evnik's ear: "There is no hope of you winning this fight. I can help you. Just cheat a little. Your warrior's code of honour does not apply here."

"It might not apply to you," said Evnik, "but it applies to me." He struggled to his feet, his sword at the ready. "En garde, Lord Daggerhand."

Angered, the Thief of Kings charged at him. Evnik sidestepped, leaping onto the dais and falling into the seat of the golden throne. Kulthas Daggerhand lunged at him, but Evnik managed to evade once again, but stuck out his foot and tripped the Thief of Kings, sending him sprawling into the throne, knocking it over with a loud thunk.

The crowd roared. A dagger knifed through the commotion, but bounced off Evnik's armour. "This is between me and him," Evnik shouted. "Stay out of this!"

Kulthas Daggerhand had gotten to his feet. The crowd fell silent at the sight of his second sword, its blade gleaming in the flickering torchlight.

"The Plunderer's Blade," someone whispered, and before long the whole arena was muttering these three words. Evnik, however, wasn't privy to the weapon's legacy, and merely called out, "One weapon only, Lord Daggerhand."

Grinning, the Thief of Kings rushed at him again, the Plunderer's Blade whistling as both blades sliced through the air. Evnik managed to parry him again, but was still adamant. "One weapon only!" he shouted again.

"Chivalry is dead, boy," Kulthas Daggerhand growled. "You die, you lose."

He glanced over Evnik's shoulder, catching the eye of one of his trusted assassins. The assassin nodded inperceptibly, then unsheathed his dagger. With a mighty war cry, the Thief of Kings shoved Evnik backwards, impaling him on the knife. Evnik gasped with shock, and his sword slipped from his hand.

As the life ebbed from his body, Evnik's last vision was of a crowd surging forward, daggers drawn. He heard the Thief of Kings growl, "He's all yours, boys," and slipped into blackness as his corpse was dragged under a hundred merciless blades.


We had English test today.
The Edna Man

Monday, May 04, 2009

Our World

Our World
What a world we live in.

We live in a world of superficiality,
Of shallowness and triviality;
In an age of cosmetic countenance,
Where first impressions dictate our lives.

We live in a world of revulsion,
Of hatred and spite;
In an age of destruction and death,
Where violence is prevalent and war is the norm.

We live in a world of apathy,
Of detachment and disinterest;
In an age of wanton disregard,
Where everybody stops caring about others, the environment.

We live in a world of seclusion,
Of pampering and luxury,
In an age of overindulgence,
Where we are blind the the rest of the world's needs.

We live in a world of speed,
Of quick-fixes and focused destinations;
In an age of instant gratification,
Where the results, not the process, is important.

We live in a world of deception,
Of white lies and deceit;
In an age of diplomacy and duplicity,
Where a smile is the best disguise you will ever wear.

We live in a world of sensationalism,
Of boasting appearances and hyperbole;
In an age of exaggeration,
Where anything can be made true enough.

We live in a world of competition,
Of cannibalistic canines and the paper-chase;
In an age of rat racing,
Where diplomas maketh the man.

We live in a world of materialism,
Of eternal greed and the root of all evil;
In an age of economics being the backbone of our society,
Where even time is money.

We live in a world of practicality,
Of pragmatism and monochromatic rainbows;
In an age of stifled creativity,
Where there's nothing the world loves more than the taste of really sweet dreams.

We live in a world of insignificance,
Of individual unimportance and statistical negligibility;
In an age of infinitesimal irrelevance,
Where one man cannot hope to change the world, let alone the people around him.

What a world we live in.
The Edna Man

Friday, May 01, 2009

First of May

When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,
we used to love while others used to play.
Don't ask me why, but time has passed us by,
some one else moved in from far away.

Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small,
and you don't ask the time of day.
But you and I, our love will never die,
but guess who'll cry come first of May.

The apple tree that grew for you and me,
I watched the apples falling one by one.
And I recall the moment of them all,
the day I kissed your cheek and you were gone.

Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small,
and you don't ask the time of day.
But you and I, our love will never die,
but guess who'll cry come first of May.

When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,
do do do do do do do do do...
Don't ask me why, but time has passed us by,
some one else moved in from far away.

Guess who'll cry, come first of May.
The Edna Man