"Definately worth a look, especially if you've just taken a liberal dose of an illegal narcotic."

a description of questionable accuracy
(if only because i don't use a lot of illegal narcotics
alTHOUGh, i'm on some pretty nice legal ones right now
mmm, tylenol with codeine
and caffeine
wait
okay so THAT's why i'm not sleepy...
at 5:45 am...)

um
parentheses shall be my downfall.

um
continuing...
written by one chris
on one blog called
cobwebs

kept seeing it in my refer logs
and thinking
how interesting
all these people coming from this one site
and twiddling my thumbs

(does anyone actually do that?)

never bothered to... say...
really read it or anything
well

actually there are an awful lot of words there
but i looked at the pictures
those were some pictures alright

apparently this
"chris"
lives on floor 11
or so i gather

which is interesting

for all i know, he could be directly below me
as this is floor
1, 2, 3
4, 5, 6
7, 8, 9
10, 11, 12
ladybugs came
to the ladybug's picnic

hm

getting drunk alone?
and playing computer risk?

less pathetic than
NOT getting drunk alone
and NOT playing computer risk

damn
i miss computer risk
it's fun to kick the computer's ass
take that lousy compoooter
think you're so smrt?
ha!
you CTRL the electronic dice
and you STILL can't win

p.s.
i still want a sandwich
ROOM SERVICE
NOW

i feel i should clarify the last entry

the spam
and the sandwich

those were two completely
UNRELATED
ideas

please do not make me a
spam sandwich

but do make me a sandwich
please
so hungry

*poof*
you're a sandwich

um
i suppose i could do it myself

but be assured

i am extremely disappointed in you

i thought you were my friend

if you really loved me....

---

goddamn

so

i just got some spam

the subject read
"projects that need to be completed"

goddamn

fucking
spam
can't even leave me alone

i'll do it tomorrow
okay?
OKAY

geeeez

somebody make me a sandwich
please?

that was a clever trick
though
by those spam fiends

in other news
SANDWICH
NOW!

what is "the innernet"?

and if there's an innernet
is there an outernet?

probly what i'm sposed to assume
dunnit seem like it?

hold on while i regroup
i think i've run into another wall
i guess that means i can't keep going in THAT direction anymore

I turned the sounds OFF in ICQ.

So shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.

...

grr

ICQ and AIM have two states known as

Online
and
Offline

MSN has

Online
and
Not online

Which is probably not as interesting as I think, but.
I think it's interesting.

No Bin Laden masks? Outrage.

Most detestable spelling error ever: conceded.

It's conceited, dammit!
CONCEITED.

Conceded is a word, yes.
But not the one you're trying to use.

Idiots.

Second most detestable spelling error ever: noone.

And another, while not technically a spelling error: "your hot asl"

There are several things wrong with the preceding.

You have until Spring 2003.

A Taste of Big Brother in U.S.

CBC News: Ladybug boom follows aphid infestation

I knew there was an explanation... I should have been able to figure that out... where is my logic?

BBC News - US launches 'anti-terror' satellite "Before 1996 the [US National Reconnaissance Office] did not publicly disclose the launches of its satellites."

I wonder why. Do you like the idea of satellites in the sky that can pick out object 10 cm across on the ground, monitor conversations, see with infared... I like to think that most people don't but... Of course, NOW it's entirely acceptable. Guh.

Ganymede.

Ganymede.

This story, i just find bizarre.

Yet again, the universe has proven that I've been given more than my fair share of the world's luck supply. Woke up already an hour late for class (for no particular reason, I mean, I got over 15 hours of sleep last night), and found that it was cancelled. Probably just for me... They were all so distraught that I wasn't there that they packed up and left. Yeah, I wish. Of course, it took me a while to find out that the class was cancelled and not just moved to a different location, despite the signs on the doors (hey, I'd been awake only 10 minutes, okay?). Somebody eventually had to tell me. Wow, don't I feel stupid. Wheee. I'm in the computer lab upstairs in the Image Arts building because... too lazy to walk allll the way back, half a block to res.

Something I've noticed while I've been sitting here typing...
Looking at a non-flat computer screen...
Is hella weird.
Haven't used a computer with one of these for...
who even knows.

I'm going home now.
Project to work on.
Other project to buy
"black adhesive film"
for.
Ack. And must purchase a zip disk for Production class.
Don't let me forget. Okay?
Goodbye.

Get two glasses of water ready. Go to this site. Find the "Free Gift" section. Laugh.

i forget why i wanted to say this

but
a point:

it is not a big deal for someone to see your underwear
that's what it's for
hello
to be seen instread of other things underneath
so
.

also not wanting to be seen in a bra
but owning a bikini
hm
.

Gonna teach myself basic electronics cause I'm bored, bored, bored. BeCAUSE... right now I just know that all these parts look cool... I don't really know how to use them. So most of what I make doesn't do anything, it just... looks pretty. But if I teach myself things, I can make things with motors and lights, whoooeeee!~

And I fully intend to do it by class on Tuesday.
Haha!

Won't be hard, I HOPE, because I do know BASIC basic electronics... And I know that I do take easily to these things. Lalala.

WAIT a second... who cares if Nostradamus didn't write that quotation down there... Fact is... Neil Marshall DID, and it's STILL therefore just as eerie. Blah!

Going to Active Surplus, for to buy fun fun stuff... Love that store... Mmmm, junk!

Huzzah! The Hats of Meat website is back...

Seen the new X10 popup? (Not a hard thing to run into...)

"We have suspended our service out of sympathy to the victims and families of this National tragedy. Our heartfelt thoughts and prayers go out to them."

Even so, we still must destroy X10.

Today's date, by the way, is 911.

And what is this?

"In the City of God there will be a great thunder, Two brothers torn apart by Chaos, while the fortress endures, the great leader will succumb. The third big war will begin when the big city is burning" -
Nostradamus 1654

Nostradamus is BS, but still. Interesting.

[ed. 11:06 pm - fake quote? ah, quite likely. hey, it's BS either way.]

WHAT THE FUCK?!

I'm moving underground. In Antarctica.

Fuck.

Planetary grid? Energy matrix? Odd.

"Her hair is an atomic explosion and the necklace is a chain reaction."

"Caution! The content presented on this web site might be of alien origins and therefore may be hazardous to your belief system. Those lacking Microwave or High Voltage experience are warned not to attempt construction of the Radio-Gravitics Unit as decoded from ancient pictoglyphic schematics."

What.

crackpot

The radio just told me that the average IQ for women is 113, and the average IQ for men is 119.

I'm sorry but... Isn't the average IQ 100, by definition?

Well. The problem with the layer being stretched was text-align:justify. So now everything is all left-aligned and ugly. But the image is in the right place... er...!

Free Meat:
"The easiest way is just read the paper. Every day there are people looking to give away dogs and cats and all kinds of animals. That's God's way of saying 'Free meat to Godly home'."

Ack!!!

It reminds me about one of the busdrivers from my old public school. I was never on her route, luckily. But according to my friends who were, especially one who was at the very end of the route, she used to pull the bus over if she saw roadkill, and drag it onto the bus to take home for dinner. My friend learned much about eating roadkill on these trips: you can't eat owls because they're "too gristly", and you can't eat anything more than a few days old, because it'll be "too wormy."

Once on a dare, my friend asked to borrow the bus driver's cookbook, and succeeded. She brought it to school for us all to see. The bus driver thought she might actually be interested in cooking up some of these dishes. I feel sorry for that bus driver's kids and...

Have I mentioned how glad I am to be out of Puslinch?

But back to the website, which is about a much worse source of food than the side of the road. Don't eat kitties!

Am I supposed to believe this is serious?

Because who is able to put together an entire website like this, and yet hasn't enough intelligence to see anything wrong with saying "I don't got a scanner," or "they don't got that inner fur what some northern animals got," or "I aint spent more than $15 in the last year on meat."

Besides, it's got the usual FAQ page that every other joke site's got.

So there you go JESSE (hah, cause you were so concerned about the last one). I pronounce this site BS. Pisstake indeed.

The door closing tone noise on the TTC website is just... cute...

Website I'll be working on as part of my New Media program: http://imagearts.ryerson.ca/cgreen/index.html.

New e-mail address, in case you want variety or something: c2green@ryerson.ca.

For future reference: SOCAN (The Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada) plans to make a decision regarding web licensing. Eventually. Hasn't been updated since last December.

Also interesting: list of SOCAN tariffs approved by The Copyright Board of Canada.

Character in Fahrenheit 451 - The Prince, by Machiavelli.
I thought I was through with hearing about that guy...

Closeup of page of burning book in Fahrenheit 451: The Brothers Karamazov. I'll read the freakin' book already, I swear. Just stoppit!

disturbing

Aeeeeeeiiii!!!! Just again with pots and wooden spoons have again I been woken and like it I do not! And the unacceptably loudness of the playing of Weezer. What wants they? Please to be leaving me alone. Wake up says they. Please be with the waking of up. It is not even ten. Well awake I now I, guesses do I. Fine then fine. So what wants they... Scavenger hunting thinks they that I should go. Early it is TOOOOOO!

E-mail told me something useful for once. COME PART MENTAL: an exhibition Floria Sigismondi, September 14 to October 28, 2001, Museum of Contemporary Canadian Art: Pretty Information / Detailed Information.

Pureblank a hardcore/metalcore band from Guelph Ont. featuring ex-members of :sik: and neva will be playing their debut show Saturday September 8th at the trasheteria (52 macdonell street downtown Guelph) with Darkest Hour (victory records) The End and Childproof. Doors are at 5pm, Pureblank opens at 5:30, only $6.00 at the door. You can check out pureblanks temporary official website at http://www.pureblank.cjb.net.
Please forward and help get the word out thanks [done, and done, ctg.]

Pureblank

There's no way out this time. Now there is undeniable proof that NASA faked the moon landing!

I'm back on the internet! At about four million times my old speed. Let the downloading begin... Er, um... I mean, if I had anything I wanted to download. Well, doesn't that just figure.

tupping: transitive verb : to copulate with (a ewe).

Interesting.

Funny. And true. I am going to pee my pants...

Goddamn X10's Amazing XCam2 Wireless Camera! Goddamn it! I won't link to it, because I'm sure you've been to the site. Goddamn.

And here, just for the hell of it (and because my sister thought it would be a good idea) is a picture of Dave Thomas, Founder of Wendys, on a stick:

Here you go, picture of me and.... well.... it hasn't got a name. But, here:



...

Jay the Juiceman is the coolest. Ben, you'd better recognize the Power of Juicing.

I just had to link those. Again. I might also link to his picture on Am I Annoying or Not? because it's got things straight:
"He is the scariest person in this solar system.
He may be an extra terrestrial."

My sister says I'm odd because I just finished adding two 1/4 lb. bags of rubberbands to my rubberband ball (which now has a five inch diameter, I guess I'll take a pic later). And yet she is the one walking around the house with a cutout cartoon of Dave Thomas on a stick saying "Dave Thomas, Founder of Wendy's says not to be so rude." I'm concerned about that girl's sanity.

...

I am now unemployed, thank God/Eris/Bob. I've never read much about Tim Horton, but I think he's the Devil/Greyface/a pinkboy.
Now... two days left to pack up everything I own. Um.

...it's happening again.

wait.

and then do it some more.

Some answers:

Honey dijon chicken sandwich, with same large-coke-no-ice, two double-chocolate cookies.
The seat NEXT to the seat where he usually sits. NOT the other corner like I'd expect.

*yawn*

My new favourite band: Skellator. Er. Or not!

Anyway, here's a story. A couple of days ago, a guy came into Timmy's. And he had a dime stuck in his chest hair. Just sitting all snug in there like a baby bird in a nest. And that is the most interesting thing that's happened to me in a while.

And that, my friends, is sad.

There is a guy who comes in every day and orders the chili in a breadbowl deal. He substitutes the medium coffee for a large coke (with no ice) and the donut for two cookies. Costs him about $6.52, I believe.

And what I want to know is this.
He always sits in the same spot. The quietest corner of the smoking room (it's nice in there, it's air-conditioned) and reads. Sometimes for several hours.
If somebody was already sitting there, what would he do?
And what if we ran out of chili?
And what is he reading that makes him want to stick around Tim Hortons so long?
Cause I sure as hell wouldn't.
Or is it just the fact that I'm working that makes it seem like forever.

The small double-double ($1.05) and three plain old-fashioned Timbits for his dog (free) guy is moving to Vancouver. He won't be back in the store anymore after next week. And neither will I. And that... is... excellent!

"Ever since the extremely truthful experiments Freud performed on his patients during the studies of psychoanalysis we have learned much on the topic of the human mind. In recent years the study of colours and their effects on the human brain have been quite extensive, branching from mood and emotional simulants, to even mind control.

"As many of you would believe, the US Army, along with other American organizations, attempted to use this new knowledge in order to prove a stronger fit in the cold war. But in the last three years most of the documentation covering the experiments performed on random civilian subjects [although not admitted openly] has been de-classified.

"I have had the chance to look through these and have gathered enough knowledge on the subject to make correct assumptions. For example, did you know that the bright lime colour with the red value between the range of 150.3 and 153.7 without any blue, and a full 255 of green will cause any viewer to become open to ideas and opinions?

"That's right, as the studies showed, subjects made to read textual information in the format of an opinion were 85% more likely to agree and believe in that opinion than with any other colour. For more info see this link".

Of course, I have instinctively known these facts all along. You thought I only wanted to hurt your brain, when in actuality I've been in control of its every thought. Not even bringing this to your direct attention can dilute the effect...

Now if only I could come up with some useful or at least entertaining applications of this theory...

The annoying thing about finding in your logs that people have been referred to your site through an e-mail is that you can't tell what that e-mail said, nor who sent it, nor to whom. So identify yourselves. At once! This involves up to six people (it's happened three times), and I want your names, chop chop!

(Note to self:
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.
Stop obsessing over logs.)

I am going to chew the Cappuccino Trident. If I never post again, you will know why.

Whoever keeps letting the mosquitoes into this house

is going

to

die.

I will swat them to death.

Ah, the miracle of Coca-Cola. Whatever. I think my mother has gone mad. She's soaking our plates in it. She's pouring it down the drains. She's running it through the dishwasher... It's MAGIC. Or something.

I must say, though.. These are all better ideas than drinking that horrible stuff. Tastes awful. Burns your throat. Soda is such a silly thing. Carbonation... what kind of idea is that. It hurts me.

Also related... and frightening: Refreshing Your Business (a Coke site that was taken down when the general public started visiting. Too bad it's been copied elsewhere, huh? lol), Coke Cult (just sick).

Heyyyy... the layers on this page are all overlappy on the browser on this computer... that won't do at all!

I'd fix it, but... I'd rather just say: nobody on planet Earth is allowed to use IE 4 any longer. Nor Netscape, because I can't be bothered to dowload it to check out what hideous things it does to mutilate this page.

Went to my grandparents' tonight. Youse all. With my whole family. Wow, it sure was a blast. Definitely worth the drive to Acton. I'm serious. That isn't sarcasm at all. I mean, we all sat around and watched The Weakest Link and drank diet soda. Nothing beats that. Youse all.

Yes, you can, but may you?

I thought I'd push that horrible picture off of the page...

So.

Well, I did.

Do YOU see a picture down there?

Note to self: do not link to images on own computer.
Okay. Should be working now.
If not...
Guess who doesn't care?!

Computer asks me... "Would you like to correct these errors?"

Uh... NO! What do you think??? I like my computer buggy...

Wait...

That could explain everything!

So, I went a little nuts. I decided that the tables on this page needed tidying up, and so... I got rid of all of them (that's all of them) and formatted the page with CSS instead. A couple of little glitches (i.e. I need to edit all of my date images), but I think I got it working. And now... no more brain usage for me for a while.

Comment I found on halfbakery.com (all by myself, BTW. Pah!): "Web logs make me nuts. It's a pretentious circle of self-important webheads who think the rest of the world is interested in what movie they saw last night. News flash: they're not. The only people who read blogs are other bloggers."

Yes.

Hey, wanna know what results I got on this really neat personality disorder test I took the other day?

Narcissist.

Okay?

All of you.

Narcissists.

All of you.

It was against everything I stand for to link to that site, but it had to be done.
Not that I stand for anything.
Or anything.

Konrad and the fascists both.

Apparently the Government of Canada is going through some sort of copyright reform process. I haven't read all of these pages through yet. But I'm sure there are some bits of it that will piss me off later, when I do. Because as I scan through it, I keep picking out little words like "prevent," "prohibit." I'm finding a lot of these words in sentences referring to the Internet and especially online file sharing. See, here's a bit I don't like: "Domestically, some copyright stakeholders have indicated that in the absence of a prohibition against the manufacture and traffic in circumvention devices, would-be infringers can legally access the means that enable infringement. [dot dot dot] The departments have considered the possibility of restricting or prohibiting the traffic in circumvention devices." Though the same section (4.2 Legal Protection of Technological Measures) explains that this possibility is quite unrealistic, I still think they better make sure to leave it the hell alone (er, they make this point as well... ("There is concern that the Copyright Act may not be the proper instrument for protection measures that, prima facie, are extraneous to copyright principles.")

The site also reminded me how pissed off I still am about the levy on blank audio recording media (Bill C-32) (BTW, why did I never hear that this was increased? Seems everyone has lost interest, but the Government keeps going...)

I also have issues with the possibility of an increased term of protection for copyright from life plus 50 years to life plus 70. The United States has done this already, thus allowing the copyright on Mickey Mouse to be extended 20 years from it's old expiry date of 2004. As it stands, Mickey will become public domain in 2024 in the U.S., but I am reading, it may be legal to use Mickey in Canada within three years. The date will be extended, though, you can count on that. The corporations will see to it.

Okay, I'm totally lost in what I'm saying now... Let's stop typing!

No More Periods, Period? "Dr. David Cohen, a specialist in reproductive endocrinology and infertility at the University of Chicago, doesn't think women in general will be opposed to not bleeding every month."

Damn straight...

Know what's stupid?
<3
How dopey IS that?
Whose idea was it?
They should be made to pay.
When did this start?
I haven't been keeping up.

It took me forever to find these files. So if anybody is interested in downloading all four of the songs Stephen Moore recorded starring Marvin the Paranoid Android from the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, you'll find them here.

I'll tell you what's wrong with the music biz. It's the music. Oh. And also, the biz.

Somebody wanna give me mono, please? I figure that would be a good way to get out of work for the rest of the summer... Dammit.

I don't want to work today! Grr...

"If you were on a bicycle, you'd be out the back door by now."

Hm. Somebody please give me an excuse to say this to you?...

*crosses fingers*
plesase upload...
please
please
please
.
.
.

Watching Much Music this week, and hearing news of yet another fight between opposing "hip-hop" (my brother assures me this is what they are, but I'm not up with the lingo, or "hip to the jive" if you will) artists (which ones, I don't remember, I wasn't paying careful attention. But does it even matter?), I realized (now, this did not take a lot of thought) (this is another set of parentheses just for fun) that there is quite obviously an extreme over-population of the species, resulting in most of the recent violent behaviour. Each family group of these artists occupies an extensive territorial range, and will not tolerate intrusion by other family groups (i.e. "East Side" vs. "West Side").

This is why I propose an open hunting season on hip-hop artists and their gangs (or "clans," "posses," etc). Their numbers must be evened out to balance the ecosystem of popular music. By instigating a controlled culling, perhaps a better level sustainability can be attained in the environment between hip-hop artists, and artists of all other musical styles. If the population is allowed to swell further, it could have a negative impact on other species, most particularly the "boy-band" and "girl-band" populations, which compete for the same spotlight. Planned herd management to control the recent population boom will additionally prevent random outburts of violence, resulting in safer clubbing for all. The ecosystem can only support a certain number of P. Diddys...

So... my website is working again then, eh?
That's good.
And would be ever so much more useful if I had something to say right now.
But you can't have everything.

Okay, that's it... This cost $500, if I've got it straight... It makes me very angry to see people do things badly and get paid way too much for it, only because I'm not doing the same thing...

Real life needs more foreshadowing.

...

Harry Potter has some of the worst foreshadowing of any book I have ever read. It's so obvious. Couldn't be much more so by putting the end of the book at the beginning. Sure, it's a kids book. But that isn't any excuse for such bad writing. I really can't see what's so great about the series (maybe I'll ask my little brother). It's written in a style that reminds me of my own. In grade three. Except that some of my jokes were funny. The ones in Harry Potter get about halfway, which is more pathetic than having none at all. But if that's what becomes a bestseller, um, that's it... I'm becoming a writer...

...

I need to get to a library, in order to find something better to read than my little brother's copy of Harry Potter. The universe apparently wants me to read Vonnegut. I'll do it, okay? All eight of you can shut up about it now... Guh.

...

I have a strange urge to watch "Biodome" right now. Is there something necessarily wrong with me?

Personally, I think the line in that Depeche Mode "Dream On" song would be better if they changed "giving" to "given." Not that you can tell the difference.

I had some problems with the phrase "dating the sphinx" tonight. I couldn't figure out for a good five minutes that it meant figuring out how old it was. I need to get to sleep, I think.

Anyway. I'm not going to do that. I'm going to make myself a lovely website. That looks like the rest of the internet. With lots of little tables outlined with one-pixel-wide white borders on a dark (but never black) background. And grid patterns layered onto all of my graphics. And a navigation bar with little white-all-capital-helvetica links. Guh. And a monochromatic colour scheme. And then I'm going to bang my head against a brick wall. So maybe it's pretty. I hate it, though. And I'm going to scream in a minute, if I see one more of these. I'd link to some, but I don't think anyone needs help finding one.

I have the word "corn" written on my left hand, and I don't remember why. At least, I think it says "corn." It seems as though it might say "porn," instead. Also, the O looks a little bit like it might be an A. I hope that this wasn't about anything important.

Multiple choice.
This is very easy.
Name this object:



a) file
b) folder

If you can't figure it out, these two sentences may help you.
Which of these is correct:

a) I am going to put my file into this file.
b) I am going to put my file into this folder.

If you still don't know which answer is correct, I'm afraid you will be removed from this planet immediately.
Along with anyone who pronounces GIF with a J.

Press any key to continue.

[NumLock]
.
.
.
[NumLock]
.
.
.
[NumLock]
.
.
.

This doesn't appear to be working.

[Shift][Shift][Shift][Shift][Shift]...

Um...

[PrintScreen]...

No.

[ScrollLock]...

No.

[Pause/Break][CapsLock][CTRL][ALT]

No, no, no, no.

Excuse me... ANY key?
Lying bastard computer.

Cool Whip: an edible oil product!
Yeah, that's probably what I would use as one of my big selling points if I was in charge of marketing at Kraft.
Why would anybody see this written on the tub and follow through with the purchase?

Oh yeah. I got my Tim Horton's job. Woo... I'm so SO happy about that. I really am. Really. Dammit. Gotta get my uniform on Monday. They don't come in my size. I had better invest in a belt. eee.

I just applied to Tim Horton's. I can feel the doom coming upon me... Doom, DOOM!!! I'm doomed!

i'm in the lounge of the calgary airport. pretty nifty. i tried to check my e-mail, but it wouldn't work. okay, i'm going to leave now...

This website makes me feel smart.

"You smell" vs. "you stink":
you could smell good.

Bad pictures of me from formal: one, two.

The snarky look on my face is due to the fact that I'd seen the photographer's work before. Done by the same morons who do my school's student cards and yearbooks. Badly. Notice that the pictures are blurry... But these are better than average, which is sad. Jostens is crap. I've seen better pictures of the insied of my camera case than I've seen in my yearbook. Which comes out in the fall, by the way, what the hell is up with that?

La dee da. I might mention that these photos contain, from left to right, Mark, Sarah, me and Leslie.
I might also mention that I do, in fact, have two legs.

Difference between ICQ users and AIM users:

ICQ - send / receive / send / receive / send / receive / send / receive / ...
AIM - send / receive / send / send / send / receive / send / receive / receive / receive / receive / receive / send / send / receive / send / send / send / send / send / send / send

Gak!

Okay, bastard attention starved windows... Why can't you understand that just because you're done doing something, it doesn't mean that I want to look at it immediately. Especially you, AIM. You have quite the inflated sense of self importance. Great, somebody new is trying to talk to me. Isn't enough that you make the task-bar flash and scare the shit out of me with your wave files? It isn't really necessary to pop the window up, causing me to type the end of whatever sentence I'm in the middle of in the "send" box, and to send it to some random loser who can't spell "you're" and who desperately wants to know my "asl" and "wassup sexy?"

My computer ought to get a better sense of my priorities. Meaning that... whatever I'm doing, I intend to keep doing it until I'm done doing it. Not until Internet Explorer feels that it's being neglected. Fucking impatient applications. One of these days, I will be able to successfully open my Start Menu to get to the 18th level where the program I want to run is hidden, without something performing an illegal operation and forcing me to start all over again. One day...

No more high school classes, ever. Good feeling.
Exam tomorrow. Bad feeling.
Kinda bad feeling.
No. Neutral feeling.
I'll study... later.
Non-panicked studying is just not effective.

Fixed my old junk on freeshell.org. Don't read it.

Zeno's Paradox mathematically proves that my math textbook is full of shit. I have demonstrated this fact by attempting to throw the same math textbook across the room.
1/2 + 1/4 + 1/8 + 1/16 + 1/32 + 1/64 + ... = 1
The book successfully hit the wall.

still bored
wrote out this
not finished
now get to go to class
yay
going to kill self
help
me
please
management
and administration
kill
brain
no nevermind
brain dead already
guh
ack
bah
meh
pleh
eee
aaa
grr!

the sun did not shine
it was too wet to play
so we sat in the house
all that cold cold wet day
i sat there with sally
we sat there we two
and i said how i wish
we had something to do
to wet to go out
and too cold to play ball
so we sat in the house
we did nothing at all
so all we could do
was just sit sit sit sit
and we did not like it
not one little bit
then something went bump
how that bump made us jump
we looked and we saw him
step in on the mat
we looked and we saw him
the cat in the hat
and he said to us
why do you sit there
like that
i know it is wet
and the sun is not sunny
but we can have lots
of good fun that is funny
i know some good games
we could play
said the cat
i know some new tricks
said the cat in the hat
a lot of good tricks
i will show them to you
your mother will not mind
at all if i do
and sally and i
did not know what to say
our mother was out
of the house for the day
but our fish said
no no
make that cat go away
tell that cat in the hat
you do not want to play
he should not be here
he should not be about
he should not be here
when your mother is out
now now
have no fear
have no fear
said the cat
my tricks are not bad
said the cat in the hat
why we can have
lots of good fun
if you wish
with a game that i call
up-up-up with a fish
put me down
said the fish
i do not wish to fall
put me down
said the fish
this is not fun at all
have no fear
said the cat
i will not let you fall
i will hold you up high
as i stand on a ball
with a book in one hand
and a cup on my hat
but that is not all
i can do
said the cat
look at me
look at me now
said the cat
with a cup and a cake
on the top of my hat
i can hold up two books
i can hold up the fish
and a little toy ship
and some milk on a dish
and look i can hop
up and down on the ball
but that is not all
oh no that is not all
look at me
look at me
look at me now
it is fun to have fun
but you have to know how
i can hold up the cup
and the milk and the cake
i can hold up these books
and the fish on a rake
i can hold the toy ship
and a little toy man
and look with my tail
i can hold a red fan
i can fan with the fan
as i hop on the ball
but that is not all
oh no that is not all
that is what the cat said
then he fell on his head
he came down with a bump
from up there on the ball
then sally and i
we saw all the things fall
and our fish came down too
he fell into a pot
and he said
do i like this
oh no i do not
this is not a good game
said our fish as he lit
oh i do not like it
not one little bit
now look what you did
said the fish to the cat
now look at this house
look at this
look at that
you sunk our toy ship
sunk it deep in the cake
you shook up our house
and you bent our new rake
you should be here
when our mother is not
you get out of this house
said the fish in the pot
but i like to be here
oh i like it a lot
said the cat in the hat
to the fish in the pot
i do not want to leave
i do not wish to go
and so said the cat in the hat
so so so
i will show you another
good trick that i know
and then he ran out
and then fast as a fox
the cat in the hat
came back in with a box
a big red wood box
it was shut with a hook
now look at this trick
said the cat
take a look
then he got up on top
with a tip of his hat
i call this game
fun-in-a-box
said the cat
i will pick up the hook
you will see something new
two things and i call them
thing one and thing two
these things will not bite you
they want to have fun
then out of the box
came thing two and thing one
and they ran to us fast
they said
how do you do
would you like to shake hands
with thing one and thing two
and sally and i did not know
what to do
so we had to shake hands
with thing one and thing two
we shook their two hands
but our fish said
no no
those things should not be
in this house
make them go
the should not be here
when your mother is not
put them out
put them out
said the fish in the pot
have no fear little fish
said the cat in the hat
these things are good things
and he gave them a pat
they are tame
oh so tame
they have come here to play
they will show you some fun
on this wet wet wet day
now here is a game
that they like
said the cat
they like to fly kites
said the cat in the hat
no not in a house
said the fish in the pot
they should not fly kites
in a house
they should not
oh the things they will bump
oh the things they will hit
oh i do not like it
not one little bit

At school. Bored. Have proof. Have typed the following from memory:

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the Galaxy lies a small, unregarded yellow sun.
Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
This planet has – or rather had – a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested to this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd, because on the whole, it wasn’t the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
And so the problem remained. Lots of the people were mean, and most of them were miserable; even the ones with digital watches.
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they’d all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the oceans.
And then one Thursday, nearly two thousand years after one man was nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change, a girl, sitting on her own in a small café in Rickmansworth suddenly knew what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and she finally realized how the world could be made a good and happy place. This time it was right, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything.
Sadly, however, before she could get to a phone to tell anyone about it, a terrible stupid catastrophe occurred, and the idea was lost forever.
This is not her story.
But it is the story of the terrible, stupid catastrophe, and some of its consequences.
It is also the story of a book – a book called the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Not an Earth book, never published on Earth, and before the terrible stupid catastrophe occurred, never seen or even heard of by any Earthman.
Nevertheless, a wholly remarkable book.
In fact, it was probably the most remarkable book ever to come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor, of which no Earthman had ever heard either.
Not only is it a wholly remarkable book, but it is also a highly successful one. More popular than the Celestial Homecare Omnibus, better selling than Fifty-Three More Things to do in Zero-Gravity, and more controversial than Oolon Colluphid’s trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where God Went Wrong, Some more of God’s Greatest Mistakes, and Who is this God Person, Anyway?
In some of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy, the Hitch Hiker’s Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopaedia Galactica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions, and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in
two important respects.
First, it is slightly cheaper, and secondly it has the words DON’T PANIC inscribed in large, friendly letters on its cover.
The story of this terrible stupid Thursday, the story of its extraordinary consequences, and the story of how these consequences are inexplicably intertwined with this remarkable book begins very simply. It begins with a house.

The house stood on a slight rise just on the edge of the village. It stood on its own, and looked out over a broad spread of West Country farmland.
Not a remarkable house, by any means. It was about thirty years old, squattish, squarish, made of brick, and had four windows set in the front of a size and proportion that more or less exactly failed to please the eye.
The only person for whom the house was in any way special was Arthur Dent, and that was only because it happened to be the one he lived in. He had lived in it for about three years, ever since he had moved out of London because it made him nervous and irritable. He was about thirty as well, tall, dark haired, and never quite at ease with himself.
The thing that used to worry him the most was the fact that people were always asking him what it was he was looking so worried about.
He worked in local radio, which he always used to tell people was a lot more interesting than they probably thought. He was right, too – most of his friends worked in advertising.
On Wednesday night it had rained heavily; the lane was wet and muddy. But the Thursday morning sun shone brightly on Arthur Dent’s house for what was to be the last time.
It hadn’t properly registered with Arthur yet that the council wanted to knock it down and build a bypass instead.
At eight o’clock on Thursday morning, Arthur didn’t feel very good. He woke up blearily, got out of bed, walked blearily across his room, opened a window, saw a bulldozer, found his slippers, and stomped off to the bathroom to wash.
Toothpaste on the brush, so, scrub.
Shaving mirror, pointing at the ceiling. He adjusted it. For a moment it reflected a second bulldozer through the bathroom window. Properly adjusted it reflected Arthur Dent’s bristles. He shaved them off, washed, dried, and stomped off to the kitchen to find something pleasant to put in his mouth.
Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee – yawn.
The word “bulldozer” wandered through his mind for a moment in search of something to connect with. The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one. He stared at it. “Yellow,” he thought, and stomped off back to his bedroom to get dressed.
Passing the bathroom, he stopped to drink a large glass of water, and another. He began to suspect that he was hung over. Why was he hung over? Had he been drinking the night before? He supposed that he must have been. He caught a glint in the shaving mirror. Yellow, he thought, and stomped off to the bedroom.
He stood and thought. The pub, he thought. Oh dear, the pub. He vaguely recalled being angry about something, angry about something that had seemed important. He’d been talking about it, talking about it at great length, he rather suspected. His clearest visual recollection was of glazed looks on other people’s faces...............................

helpmesavemeplease?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?

My hair is beyond fried. I wonder what I'd look like with a shaved head... um... no. I don't think that would be a good idea.

I just got back from my friend's house where we dyed my hair blue, just in time to make sure it won't match my dress (pink) for the prom tomorrow. I should've stuck with the pink, I'm not sure if I like this. It's kinda dull and was meant to black. Whose idea of black is this... The ends were the only part meant to be blue, but it's turned out that they're just a slightly lighter shade of blue, so it looks uneven instead. Bleh. I don't really care that much, but I felt like getting through complaining about it.

It would be much cooler if I matched my dress still, though.

But it's not as if I'm psycho about this whole prom thing like everyone else I know who is paying hundreds of dollars to get their hair nails face blah blah blah done tomorrow, paying $98734576 for a limo, $9876213746 for a dress... Bah, no! I don't even know why I'm going. Just to be disgusted, I guess. Entertainment value. To complain about the crappy meal and music, I suppose. Well... oh well. My hair smells like licorice. The black kind.

you do of course realize that i know the full truth behind everything you're hinting at. and also why you don't just come out and say it. because i can't either.

in some other universe, where i'm not such a coward, it's easier to breathe.

if you want a picture of my future, image a boot stamping on my face -- for ever.

Question: why do all sports announcers have the same voice? Are they clones? Or are they just replaying old games over and over again? Because it's not as if anyone would notice, when they only repeat themselves.... "swing-and-a-miss." Shut up. Whatever the reason for the identical voices, I dislike the voice intensely, and would like for the radio to be turned off, immediately.

I finally got that letter I was waiting for about the film program at Ryerson. After our slacker mailman didn't show up with any mail at all for three days. Our mailbox was overflowing yesterday.

It was another waiting list letter. How frustrating. New Media it is, then. Followed by a whole lot of waiting, and a possible change of mind. But I'm not sure about that. I think perhaps I would rather be in the New Media program, anyway.

Both of my friends who applied to film got rejected, so at least I kicked their asses. Ha ha. And that's all that's important, isn't it?

Thought I'd link to my old weblog from this one. I've moved it onto this server. Just because. So here. It's uh... green. Yay. Died almost a year ago when freeshell.org got rid of their FTP access. Blah! After being up and down for weeks. It's down right NOW, too. So don't bother trying to visit my personal site. I ought to move that one, too, but it's just so much more difficult. Blogger is kinda useful, yaknow.

Got rid of the archives.
Because I did.
Yesh.