Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Quite Possibly Worst Day In the Last 3 Years.

Let me explain today to you.

I woke up went to Hebrew, business as usual. We're watching a movie in Hebrew today and tomorrow, nice layed back class. At the end of class we got back the quiz we took yesterday.

I studied for that quiz. I was extremely confident in my performance on that quiz, I expected to do quite well on that quiz. Turns out I got a 70. Do you know why? Because it was 8 o'clock in the God Damn morning, on God damned Monday, and in the column labeled (translated from Hebrew) Noun verb pairs, I wrote out all of the ones that were constructs. And in the one that was labeled constructs, I wrote out the verb pairs.

I lost 22 points for flipping the columns.

Sounds bad huh? It gets worse

I also had a math quiz today. This wasn't a pop quiz, this wasn't a quiz that I wasn't prepared for. I did 4 practice tests in the days before the quiz, and 2 the morning of the quiz. I reread the entire chapter. I was prepared for this quiz. I was standing there sword drawn in a berserker trance ready to duel to the bloody screaming death with this quiz.

Actually, bloody screaming death is a suprsingly appropriate term.

You see, nobody mentioned ever that the material on the quiz would be in no way related to the material on all of the fucking practice ones. That it would be the obscure stuff from an earlier chapter of the book, and that it would be engineered specifically to cater to the holes in my studying regime.

Today isn't even over yet. Who knows what hideous machinations yet lay in wait for me. I can't say what will happen between now and 4, but I fully expect to come back from my physics tutorial with cancer.

Tomorrow is a mental health day.

A New Player.

I need to collectively bitch slap my subconscious.

Bio-engi, Electrical engi, and Psychology? Come on guys, you forgot Law.

Ok, back to diagramming ignorance, and indulge me on my fantasy novel phrasing, I'm bored.

Bio-engineering. To seek this Relic you must bring the following Seals.
MATH 124
MATH 125
MATH 126
CHEM 142
CHEM 152
CHEM 162
PHYS 121
PHYS 122
BIOL 180
BIOL 200
CSE 142
5 credits of English composition.

Electrical Engineering, To seek this relic you must bring the following Seals
(website temporarily down, working on this)

Psychology, To seek this relic you must bring the following Seals
MATH 124

Law. Law is a tricky one. The recomemended bachelors for a Law school degree is either some kind of engineering/technical degree, or Philosophy.

Yesss. Philosophy, it's easy, it's interesting, and it's something you have a natural aptitude. Join us.

But you have no practical use in the real world, I can't get anything with it alone

But it doesn't require any math.

I do hate math...

Yesssss, Feel the hate flow through you... Strike Math down, and complete your journey to the dark side!

What if I can't afford law school? What if I change my mind? Back False Prophet!

Join The Dark Side! It is your destiny!!!

NO!!!!! *lightsaber swing*

Um.. Yeah well you guys get the point on why I'm not going to get a philosophy major. I actually had to sit and wait a good 15 minutes for my inner cynic to stop laughing when the thought of me being an English major popped up.

Back to business. Meshing.

Winter 06 (now)
Math 124
Phys 121
HEBR 412 (personal interest / life support for my right brain course)

Spring 06
Math 125
Phys 122
Psych 101

Fall 06
Math 126 (Ding dong the witch is dead, which old witch? the wicked witch!)
Chem 142 (Like my father, and his father, and his father)
Psych 202

Winter 07
Chem 152 (Because this school is trying to keep alchemy down, there's a reason we don't have the philosophical mercury yet people.)
Biol 180 (Crazy Science all the time)
Composition. (some sort, they offer all kinds.)

Spring 07

So... Looks like I'm busy till.... September 07? Alright, well someone hold my calls till then.

Interesting side thought. If I become suicidal I can always try and double major (did anyone else just feel a chill through their very soul?) in psychology and Bio-E and get a neuro-engineering / Neuro chem degree. Mx-Co, changing the way you think one amino acid at a time.

Skippy's List

Skippy was a soldier. He was also a smart ass, but he was unusally good at it. He made a list of everything he isn't allowed to do. It singlehandedly pulled me out of a depression which inspired some fairly decent goth prose which I'll post later. Blatantly Plagarized from http://www.skippyslist.com/skippylist.html

Explanations of these events:

a) I did myself, and either got in trouble or commended. (I had a Major shake my hand for the piss bottle thing, for instance.)
b) I witnessed another soldier do it. (Like the Sergeant we had, that basically went insane, and crucified some dead mice.)
c) Was spontaneously informed I was not allowed to do. (Like start a porn studio.)
d) Was the result of a clarification of the above. (“What about especially patriotic porn?”)
e) I was just minding my own business, when something happened. (“Schwarz...what is *that*?” said the Sgt, as he pointed to the back of my car? "Um....a rubber sheep...I can explain why that's there....")

To explain how I've stayed out of jail/alive/not beaten up too badly..... I'm funny, so they let me live.

The 213 Things....

1. Not allowed to watch Southpark when I'm supposed to be working.

2. My proper military title is "Specialist Schwarz" not "Princess Anastasia".

3. Not allowed to threaten anyone with black magic.

4. Not allowed to challenge anyone's disbelief of black magic by asking for hair.

5. Not allowed to get silicone breast implants.

6. Not allowed to play “Pulp Fiction” with a suction-cup dart pistol and any officer.

7. Not allowed to add “In accordance with the prophesy” to the end of answers I give to a question an officer asks me.

8. Not allowed to add pictures of officers I don't like to War Criminal posters.

9. Not allowed to title any product “Get Over it”.

10. Not allowed to purchase anyone's soul on government time.

11. Not allowed to join the Communist Party.

12. Not allowed to join any militia.

13. Not allowed to form any militia.

14. Not allowed out of my office when the president visited Sarajevo.

15. Not allowed to train adopted stray dogs to “Sic Brass!”

16. Must get a haircut even if it tampers with my “Samson like powers”.

17. God may not contradict any of my orders.

18. May no longer perform my now (in)famous “Barbie Girl Dance” while on duty.

19. May not call any officers immoral, untrustworthy, lying, slime, even if I'm right.

20. Must not taunt the French any more.

21. Must attempt to not antagonize SAS.

22. Must never call an SAS a “Wanker”.

23. Must never ask anyone who outranks me if they've been smoking crack.

24. Must not tell any officer that I am smarter than they are, especially if it's true.

25. Never confuse a Dutch soldier for a French one.

26. Never tell a German soldier that “We kicked your ass in World War 2!”

27. Don't tell Princess Di jokes in front of the paras (British Airborne).

28. Don't take the batteries out of the other soldiers alarm clocks (Even if they do hit snooze about forty times).

29. The Irish MPs are not after “Me frosted lucky charms”.

30. Not allowed to wake an Non-Commissioned Officer by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash.

31. Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions.

32. Not allowed to let sock puppets take command of my post.

33. Not allowed to chew gum at formation, unless I brought enough for everybody.

34. (Next day) Not allowed to chew gum at formation even if I *did* bring enough for everybody.

35. Not allowed to sing “High Speed Dirt” by Megadeth during airborne operations. (“See the earth below/Soon to make a crater/Blue sky, black death, I'm off to meet my maker”)

36. Can't have flashbacks to wars I was not in. (The Spanish-American War isn't over).

37. Our medic is called “Sgt Larwasa”, not “Dr. Feelgood”.

38. Our supply Sgt is “Sgt Watkins” not “Sugar Daddy”.

39. Not allowed to ask for the day off due to religious purposes, on the basis that the world is going to end, more than once.

40. I do not have super-powers.

41. “Keep on Trucking” is *not* a psychological warfare message.

42. Not allowed to attempt to appeal to mankind's baser instincts in recruitment posters.

43. Camouflage body paint is not a uniform.

44. I am not the atheist chaplain.

45. I am not allowed to “Go to Bragg boulevard and shake daddy's little money maker for twenties stuffed into my undies”.

46. I am not authorized to fire officers.

47. I am not a citizen of Texas, and those other, forty-nine, lesser states.

48. I may not use public masturbation as a tool to demonstrate a flaw in a command decision.

49. Not allowed to trade military equipment for “magic beans”.

50. Not allowed to sell magic beans during duty hours.

51. Not allowed to quote “Dr Seuss” on military operations.

52. Not allowed to yell “Take that Cobra” at the rifle range.

53. Not allowed to quote “Full Metal Jacket “ at the rifle range.

54. “Napalm sticks to kids” is *not* a motivational phrase.

55. An order to “Put Kiwi on my boots” does *not* involve fruit.

56. An order to “Make my Boots black and shiny” does not involve electrical tape.

57. The proper response to a lawful order is not “Why?”

58. The following words and phrases may not be used in a cadence- Budding sexuality, necrophilia, I hate everyone in this formation and wish they were dead, sexual lubrication, black earth mother, all Marines are latent homosexuals, Tantric yoga, Gotterdammerung, Korean hooker, Eskimo Nell, we've all got jackboots now, slut puppy, or any references to squid.

59. May not make posters depicting the leadership failings of my chain of command.

60. “The Giant Space Ants” are not at the top of my chain of command.

61. If one soldier has a 2nd Lt bar on his uniform, and I have an E-4 on mine It means he outranks me. It does not mean “I have been promoted three more times than you”.

62. It is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, no longer applies to Specialist Schwarz.

63. Command decisions do *not* need to be ratified by a 2/3 majority.

64. Inflatable novelties do *not* entitle me to BAQ or Separation pay.

65. There are no evil clowns living under my bed.

66. There is no “Anti-Mime” campaign in Bosnia.

67. I am not the Psychological Warfare Mascot.

68. I may not line my helmet with tin foil to “Block out the space mind control lasers”.

69. May not pretend to be a fascist stormtrooper, while on duty.

70. I am not authorized to prescribe any form of medication.

71. I must not flaunt my deviances in front of my chain of command.

72. May not wear gimp mask while on duty.

73. No military functions are to be performed “Skyclad”.

74. Woad is not camouflage makeup.

75. May not conduct psychological experiments on my chain of command.

76. "Teddy Bear, Teddy bear, turn around" is *not* a cadence.

77. The MP checkpoint is not an Imperial Stormtrooper roadblock, so I should not tell them "You don't need to see my identification, these are not the droids you are looking for."

78. I may not call block my chain of command.

79. I am neither the king nor queen of cheese.

80. Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.

81. May not bring a drag queen to the battalion formal dance.

82. May not form any press gangs.

83. Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with "I recently had an experience I just had to write you about...."

84. Must not use military vehicles to “Squish” things.

85. Not allowed to make any Psychological Warfare products depicting the infamous Ft. Bragg sniper incident.

86. May not challenge anyone in my chain of command to the “field of honor”.

87. If the thought of something makes me giggle for longer than 15 seconds, I am to assume that I am not allowed to do it.

88. Must not refer to 1st Sgt as “Mom”.

89. Must not refer to the Commander as “Dad”.

90. Inflatable sheep do *not* need to be displayed during a room inspection.

91. I am not authorized to initiate Jihad.

92. When asked to give a few words at a military ceremony “Romper Bomper Stomper Boo” is probably not appropriate.

93. Nerve gas is not funny.

94. Crucifixes do not ward off officers, and I should not test that.

95. I am not in need of a more suitable host body.

96. “Redneck Zombies” is not a military training aid.

97. Gozer does not dwell in my refrigerator.

98. The proper response to a chemical weapon attack is not “Tell my chain of command what I really think about them, and then poke holes in their masks.”

99. A smiley face is not used to mark a minefield.

100. Claymore mines are not filled with yummy candy, and it is wrong to tell new soldiers that they are.

101. I am not allowed to mount a bayonet on a crew-served weapon.

102. Rodents are not entitled to burial with full military honors, even if they are "casualties of war".

103. My commander is not old enough to have fought in the civil war, and I should stop implying that he did.

104. Vodka, green food coloring, and a “Cool Mint” Listerine® bottle is not a good combination.

105. I am not allowed to bum cigarettes off of anyone under twelve.

106. I may not trade my rifle for any of the following: Cigarettes, booze, sexual favors, Kalishnikovs, Soviet Armored vehicles, small children, or bootleg CD’s.

107. Must not mock command decisions in front of the press.

108. Should not taunt members of the press, even if they are really fat, exceptionally stupid, and working for UPI.

109. I am not authorized to change national policy in Eastern Europe.

110. Never, ever, attempt to correct a Green Beret officer about anything.

111. I am not qualified to operate any US, German, Polish, or Russian Armored vehicles.

112. When saluting a “leg” officer, an appropriate greeting is not "Airborne leads the wa- oh...sorry sir".

113. There is absolutely no need to emulate the people from “Full Monty” every time I hear the song "Hot Stuff".

114. I cannot trade my CO to the Russians.

115. I should not speculate on the penis size of anyone who outranks me.

116. Crucifying mice - bad idea.

117. Must not use government equipment to bootleg pornography.

118. Burn pits for classified material are not revel fires - therefore it is wrong to dance naked around them.

119. I cannot arrest children for being rude.

120. An EO briefing is probably not the best place to unveil my newest off color joke.

121. I should not use government resources to “waterproof” dirty magazines.

122. Radioactive material should not be stored in the barracks.

123. I should not teach other soldiers to say offensive and crude things in Albanian, under the guise of teaching them how to say potentially useful phrases.

124. Two drink limit does not mean first and last.

125. Two drink limit does not mean two kinds of drinks.

126. Two drink limit does not mean the drinks can be as large as I like.

127. “No Drinking Of Alcoholic Beverages” does not imply that a Jack Daniel’s ® IV is acceptable.

128. "Shpadoinkle" is not a real word.

129. The Microsoft ® “Dancing Paperclip” is not authorized to countermand any orders.

130. “I’m drunk” is a bad answer to any question posed by my commander.

131. No dancing in the turret. This especially applies in conjunction with rule #113.

132. The loudspeaker system is not a forum to voice my ideas.

133. The loudspeaker system is not to be used to replace the radio.

134. The loudspeaker system is not to be used to broadcast the soundtrack to a porno movie.

135. An order to put polish on my boots means the whole boot.

136. Shouting “Let’s do the village! Let’s do the whole fucking village!” while out on a mission is bad.

137. Should not show up at the front gate wearing part of a Russian uniform, messily drunk.

138. Even if my commander did it.

139. Must not teach interpreters how to make "MRE" bombs.

140. I am not authorized to sell mineral rights.

141. Not allowed to use a broadsword to disprove “The Pen is Mightier than the sword”.

142. “Calvin-Ball” is not authorized PT.

143. I do not need to keep a “range card” by my window.

144. “K-Pot, LBE, and a thin coat of Break-free” is not an authorized uniform.

145. I should not drink three quarts of blue food coloring before a urine test.

146. Nor should I drink three quarts of red food coloring, and scream during the same.

147. I should not threaten suicide with pop rocks and Coke ®.

148. Putting red “Mike and Ike's” ® into a prescription medicine bottle, and then eating them all in a formation is not funny.

149. Must not create new DOD forms, then insist they be filled out.

150. On Sports Day PT, a wedgie is not considered a legal tackle.

151. The proper way to report to my Commander is “Specialist Schwarz, reporting as ordered, Sir” not “You can't prove a thing!”

152. The following items do not exist: Keys to the Drop Zone, A box of grid squares, blinker fluid, winter air for tires, canopy lights, or Chem-Light ® batteries.

153. I should not assign new privates to “guard the flight line”.

154. Shouldn't treat “piss-bottles” with extra-strength icy hot.

155. Teaching Albanian children to taunt other soldiers is not nice.

156. I will no longer perform “lap-dances” while in uniform.

157. If I take the uniform off, in the course of the lap-dance, it still counts.

158. The revolution is not now.

159. When detained by MP's, I do not have a right to a strip search.

160. No part of the military uniform is edible.

161. Bodychecking General officers is not a good idea.

162. Past lives have absolutely no effect on the chain of command.

163. Take that hat off.

164. There is no such thing as a were-virgin.

165. I do not get “that time of month”.

166. No, the pants are not optional.

167. Not allowed to operate a business out of the barracks.

168. Especially not a pornographic movie studio.

169. Not even if they *are* “especially patriotic films”

170. Not allowed to “defect” to OPFOR during training missions.

171. On training missions, try not to shoot down the General's helicopter.

172. “A full magazine and some privacy” is not the way to help a potential suicide.

173. I am not allowed to create new levels of security clearance.

174. Furby ® is not allowed into classified areas. (I swear to the gods, I did not make that up, it's actually DOD policy).

175. We do not “charge into battle, naked, like the Celts”.

176. Any device that can crawl across the table on medium, does not need to be brought into the office.

177. I am not to refer to a formation as “the boxy rectangle thingie”.

178. I am not “A lesbian trapped in a man's body”.

179. On Army documents, my race is not “Other”.

180. Nor is it “Secretariat, in the third”.

181. Pokémon® trainer is not an MOS.

182. There is no FM for “wall-to-wall counseling”.

183. My chain of command has neither the time, nor the inclination to hear about what I did with six boxes of Fruit Roll-Ups. ®

184. When operating a military vehicle I may *not* attempt something “I saw in a cartoon”.

185. My name is not a killing word.

186. I am not the Emperor of anything.

187. Must not taunt officers in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, with cigarettes.

188. May not challenge officers to “Meet me on the field of honor, at dawn”.

189. Do not dare SERE graduates to eat bugs. They will always do it.

190. Must not make s'mores while on guard duty.

191. Our Humvees cannot be assembled into a giant battle-robot.

192. The proper response to a briefing is not “That's what you think”.

193. The Masons, and Gray Aliens are not in our chain of command.

194. Shouldn't take incriminating photos of my chain of command.

195. Shouldn't use Photoshop ® to create incriminating photos of my chain of command.

196. I am not allowed to give tattoos.

197. I am not allowed to sing “Henry the VIII I am” until verse 68 ever again.

198. Not allowed to lead a “Coup” during training missions.

199. I should not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.

200. My chain of command is not interested in why I “just happen” to have a kilt, an inflatable sheep, and a box of rubber bands in the back of my car.

201. Must not valiantly push officers onto hand grenades to save the squad.

202. Despite the confusing similarity in the names, the "Safety Dance" and the "Safety Briefing" are never to be combined.

203. “To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys" is a bad long term goal to give the re-enlistment NCO.

204. NEVER nail a stuffed bunny to a cross and put it up in front of the Battalion Headquarters sign as an "Easter Desecration."

205. Don't write up false gigs on a HMMWV PMCS. ("Broken clutch pedal", "Number three turbine has frequent flame-outs", "flux capacitor emits loud whine when engaged")

206. Not allowed to get shot.

207. The Chicken and Rice MRE is *not* a personal lubricant. (Skippy wanted this noted for the record that this is not something he has ever attempted or considered! It was something we heard at dinner on 22 September 2001 and it was just so obscene it had to go here.)

208. Not allowed to play into the deluded fantasies of the civilians who are "hearing conversations" from the NSA, FBI, CIA and KGB due to the microchip the aliens implanted in their brain.

209. An airsickness bag is to be used for airsickness *only*. (Also not a Skippy-ism...this was the same dinner.)

210. Must not make T-shirts up depicting a pig with the writing "Eat Pork or Die" in Arabic to bring as civilian attire when preparing to deploy to a primarily Muslim country.

211. Don't ask LTC Steele to sign my copy of Blackhawk Down.

212. Must not go on nine deployments in six years that require a security clearance that I don't have, even if the Army tells me repeatedly that I have one and I have no reason to question them.

213. Do not convince NCO's that their razorbumps are the result of microscopic parasites.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Bizzare Experience

I just had a bizzare experience. At 4:10 I was tired to the point of being completely incoherent. I was aware only of the fact that if I didn't do something soon I would leave horrible stains on my bed. I got out of bed and walked down the hall. My only coherent thought then was the distinct sensation that this must be what a zombie feels like. I think I may have made the shambler zombie attack motion at kevin as I passed him, I've just now put on my contacts, so it may have been someone else. At 4:12 I layed back down. At 4:13 I became instantly completely awake.

This has happened before, but always with some reason. a classic "It's 4 a.m. Your paper is do in 3 hours. You've only done 1 paragraph" scenario. Those were diffrent though, I woke up in a way that was clearly motivated by fear. I have no idea what woke me up this time.

Sunday, January 29, 2006


I have a beter way to phrase that

Time-> Power. And my mind is overloading.

I love that pentacle. It works for everything.

Free Time

In the post World of Warcraft world I've noticed a few things about myself. I've done a lot more reading of various comics, I've added another webcomic to my reptioure, and I've gotten a lot more sleep. It seems that the real problem may have been that I was just lazy, not that I was being hindered by an addiction.

The other key thing is that this influx of free time seems to be feeding my dementia. I've always existed as someone whose actions reflect the balance between impulse and restraint, but with the increase in time which isn't being wasted in any obvious way, it tends to get wasted by impulse. For those you who don't believe me I just spent 4 minutes and 31 seconds doing an entire body head bang motion to the song "What is Love" which I know from the "Knight at the Roxbury" line of sketches from SNL.

Part of me is concerned about this, and it's long term implications on my psyche, but most of me is still laughing at me. We think its hilarious, but we know that I is just making fun of me, and we'll get us.

Wait what? The grammatical rules for having a multi-party discussion in which all parties are anthropomorphic personifications of aspects of one's own psyche could only be understood by one who is insane enough to regularly need them.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Neutral Evil

I'm playing a Paladin in my current D&D campaign. He's a righteous defender of the truth, and the more I play him the more I realize he's an idiot. And it's not entirelly my fault either. When I find out that a high priest of Pelor (a Neutral Good God) is an evil person I have to bring him to justice. It's what a good paladin would do. So when I get tackeled by the town guard for attacking the high priest I feel that I did the right thing, but that dosn't change the fact that I'm in jail and that everyone thinks I'm a demon. I escape by virture of a massive assault on the town, and long story short I'm about to charge in in a manor which is obviously suicidal, but right before I did it'll be glorious and heroic.

I realize what the problem in. I'm not a lawfull good person. I'm true neutral at best, but according to the www.wizards.com online alignment test I'm neutral evil. So once his own righteousness kills Sulfaras I'm going to make another evil character. The only game that I've played for any serious duration was one where I was a chaotic evil Lich sorcerer. I loved it because I had overwhelming power and complete lack of respect. It was like being my own id.

I went lawfull good orgionally to be a paladin, but the more I think about it the more I realize that paladin is an inherently self destructive ideal. They're people who can't run in fear, or retreat in the face of overwhelming odds. It's like trading your basic intelligence for supernatural powers.

I'm thinking of letting him die, so I can be an alignment that I don't have any moral objections to.

This post is purely for record keeping, if you weren't amused don't blame me, this blog stopped being for the audiance a few weeks ago.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Max Willson vs Math 124

One key thing to know is that I get my math assignments from a PDF on the math website. It has 5 lines of numbers that refer to a book and which translate into 6 hours of time and 10-15 pages of numbers. It also has a few problems separate from the bookwork attached.

Yeah, turns out that for the week 2 math homework I forgot about those.

So I turned in 6 hours of bookwork on 12 pages of loose leaf and 1 page of graph paper and got 4/10. It turns out that those other 2 problems, are each worth about as much as the entire bookwork.

*The following paragraph has been removed. It contained a level of rage so profane that the act of reading it written or on a flat screen computer monitor caused one's eyes to melt. One test subject who heard it dictated to him spontaneously began bleeding from the ears, and another who was given a brail transcript spontaneously burst into flames. You don't even want to know what happens to those who use a CRT monitor.*

Week 3. I do those sections FIRST. Then I tape them to my head while doing the rest so that I won't forget it. One epoch and 14 pages of loose leaf, and 3 pages of graph paper later I'm done*. Or am I. It turns out I had just done weak four's homework and worksheet. So when I walked in bright and heavily mentally unstable, check the asterisk, that next morning and found out I had 26 hours to do another block of this hell, I spontaneously fell ill. Seriously, I got a headache that was near completely debilitating.

I did it too. I did it and it's done, and I'm not going to do anything else productive today. I'll see you bastards Monday, I'm taking a break.

Oh, and if anyone says "well at least you already have week 4's homework done" I'll go to your home and bite your #%#1#!-%!!#*^ head off. One. Clean. Bite.

*90% of this assignment was "Find the slope of this curve at point blank using the definition of a derivative." I've already been through that trench. I was told that was over. Because I know the quick and effective ways of doing these things. I know that writing out the whole f(x+h) - f(x) / h thing is only useful when proving the rules that allow you to actually do derivation. The stress of this situation was maddening. In fact if you had walked by my room at the right time you would've heard me shouting "Quotient Rule you Fucker Quotient Rule!" when it occured to me that I could do this problem in 3 steps, but was forced to do it in 15. And don't question my ability to do derivatives. Mr. Spenner had us doing derivatives subconciously. I can look at an equation and know the derivative before my forebrain has even begun to think about what a derivative is. And now these bastards are putting that training to waste. WASTE DAMNIT.


I was just workin on math and listening to my playlist of the New Japan Philharmonic playing various old school video game theme songs. It reached a point in what's known as the "Smash brothers medley" where it cuts into the song Big Blue, from F-Zero. I've always liked that song, and I find that I like every form of it as well. I've zipped down 6-10 while my CD of The Minibosses jammed it out on electric guitar, and I like this version of it which involves some form of horn and a team of violinists.

What got me is that I was thinking about the way it was played, and I found myself mimicking the violin motion, which I found I did with suprising competence. I haven't played violin in... Almost 10 years now, but I found that I could still hear the notes and think of it as being E with 3 fingers, then A, etc. What's most bizarre about this is that I doubt I could have competently done that when I was still playing the instrument. If I can find a cheap one and I can get general education credit for it I may take a refresher course one of these quarters, but I've already got my term planned out until winter quarter next year so It's a very horizon thing.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

300 years of progress

There are two recurring "labyrinths of the Mind" that Leibniz refers to throughout the Baroque cycle. The first is free will vs predestination. The second is the composition of continuum, that is, the infinite subdivisions of matter.

Subjective reality solves both of those.

Choice exists because choice is perceived and hence made real. Even if our choices do follow some pattern we still perceive the act of choosing, and hence choice exists.

The spectrum of continuum is infinite because by observing a thing as an object with devidable subcomponents you make those same sub components. Perception is law, so as long as you see it as something divisible it will always be divisible.

Buddah 1, Leibniz 0.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

This is not fabricated. This is the result of an actual search

You can buy anything on the Internet.

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The Halls

Part 1: Tide.

There's arisen a solution to nearly every problem related to items that anyone has in the building. Throw it in the hall. You have to understand that while the rooms may maintain some level of stability the sheer volume of people and things that flow through the halls give them a tide of their own. I once considered the floor of my room to have a similar effect, which is why everything on the bottom shelf in my room is something large and hard to injure. The Tide in the hall can eventually remove nearly any nuisance, usually through me walking groggily by it at 4 a.m. and having the thought of "hasn't that thing been here for a week?" then throwing it away. The Tide can also bring new bounties though. I myself harvested a small pillow from the tide, which was thrown out for reasons that are entirely beyond me. I inspected it, found nothing wrong, inspected it further found that still nothing was wrong ,then soaked it in anti-bacterial Febreeze and went on. Now it fills the gap between mattress and support boards that my primary pillows are normally falling into, and it provides an extra 1/8 pillow of lift which I enjoy. By far the greatest recent innovation in the Tide is the "Free Stuff" box. I don't know who first placed it there but it's become a bizarre mixture of trash can and treasure trove. There isn't anything in there that I'd want, but I'm sure that someone must want those things. Then again they do bear a strange resemblance to the things that are left over in the "Everything in this box 5 cents" box at the end of a scout garage sale.

Part 2: Expansionist Policy

The halls are a free and ready source of space. It's easy to see people studying there, or hanging out, or making obscure art projects. Recently I've begun a system of dramatic interpretation that rephrases them as Asian war movements. It works because nearly everyone is Asian in some way or another, and I'm gradually learning how to tell who is what sub-category of Asian. It works like so.

People chilling in the hall studying for Econ.
China seizes minor transit route.
Todd runs amok with a nerf gun
Korea begins lashing out at neighboring provinces. Kim Jong Ill has finally lost it.
People drag a table to the hall in front of the elevators to study for a psych test.
Korean Vietnamese Alliance seizes central shipping lines.

I think it's clear that I've reached that level of boredom that inspires creativity but removes ones ability to channel it well. I'm considering getting a risk board and moving peices based solely on the movements of people in the hall, but I haven't quite reached that level.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Piercing the Veil: 2d6+4-theist

One of the fundamental defining points of a religion is how many Gods it has. I thought about this question and realized it was moot. Ostensibly my religion is monotheistic, but I worship God as an almighty omnipotent being. Anyone who truly understands the word omnipotent understands that a being with that level of power can be however many things it wants to be.

While God can have as many incarnations as it needs I do believe in the single cosmic singularity which we are all a part of. I call it the Source. If you look at that then God is almost certainly one being, but the omnipotent thing is the ultimate rule breaker.

Peircing the Veil

One of the things I’ve been meaning to do is record my various thoughts on religion. They’re numerous and plentiful, and highly disorganized. I think I’m the only one who really understands how I’ve arrived at my conclusions. I plan to post them here, because this has over time evolved into a way for me to communicate with my parents from college, into one of my many journals, and as such I no longer do this for the audience but to my own end whatever they may be. If anything I write offends you I offer no apology, and I would expect none from those whose views offend me. This is a matter of Faith, and Faith is the one thing that you’re supposed to do without a solid reason. Further posts on this subject, there will be many, will start with the phrase "Piercing the Veil" in their header.


I’ve deleted World of Warcraft. I cancelled my account’s auto renew on Saturday, but I will not have the days between now and February 6th wasted. I’ve also deleted Fable: The Lost chapters, Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines, Jedi Knights III: Jedi Academy, Knights of the old republic: Sith lords, and Warcraft III: Frozen Throne.

The Time has come for me to become a good student. I’ve done far too much slacking this quarter, and the null epiphany of my inevitable downfall on this path has finally been made truly clear to me.

I’ve amazed the right brain side projects that have either been gradually dropped or gone uncompleted. They will serve as my amusements for the time being, and hopefully provide the necessary intellectual stimulation that my current curriculum is so lacking in.

I pray that this resolve lasts, but judging by pasts measures of the same nature it won’t. I’d ask for outside help, but I don’t trust myself not to lie when the collector comes to collect what’s do. I only ask that those of you who pay tribute to some deity or another ask He/She/It/They to give me strength.

Sunday, January 22, 2006


I've run into a major holdup in the pointless entertainment sector of my life. My new cirriculum offers little to no intellectual stimulation, and while it's doing great on reinforcing my Protective Wall of Biterness(tm) it's not doing anything for my mental health. Consequentially I sepnd more time enganged in my escapist entertainment activities, which would be a fine chance of system if my new classes didn't also consume more time.

A loss of quantity calls for an increase in quality. I was fairly sure I had found this in D&D Online, which I'll be referring to as DDO from now on. I got into the free beta which I thought lasted from 1-19-2006 until 2-22-2006. This made sense to me because the retail version comes out on 2-28-06. Turns out it actually lasted from 1-19-2006 until 1-22-2006. Consequentially when I woke up on 1-22-2006 and couldn't play, I was alarmed, but didn't think much of it. Servers temporarily down right? Wrong.

So now I have a problem. I've got no outlet for the frustration that serves as an inhibitor to tolerance which I need to do my classes.

Here's the bigger problem though. If I'm disabled by the loss of a God Damn video game. What the hell kind of weakling gets taken down by that? This thought leads to more frustration that leads to less tollerance.

So what's the solution? Damned if I know, but I'd better find one soon. Also, just as a forewarning, If I'm more caustic then normal this is why.

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Conversations from the world of Eberron

I recently got into the open beta for the game Dungeons and Dragons Online. While it's a good game, the most important thing about it is that it's free.

The following are conversations I've had while in the game

1. Had in the training ground while I was on my bard

Some person: Bard? Why would anyone want to be a bard?
Me: Well, I wanted to be musician. Actually, I just wanted to sing AC-DC lyrics as rap songs and call myself MC DC, but someone took the first name MC already

2 Had in a kobold lair while I was on my paladin

Fighter in group: Paladin put your sword back on. Paladin brawling sucks
Me: oh right
Rogue in group: Actually a paladin's unarmed attack can have neat side effects? Ever hear of lay on hands? I got socked right in the jaw by a pally once, cured my gingivitis.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Fell Depths

I lost my physics 121 course packet. Turns out that if you leave it out in the hub it disappears. To get a new one I had to go to the copy center in the basement of the communications building.

Lets just get this out of the way.
Dr Hibbert: Don't worry, you can always fall back on your degree in... Communications!?!
Victor: I know, is false degree. Victor learns nothing! Nothing!!!

All random references aside I assure you that the communications building, or "The Citadel of Comunicay" as I now call it, had no use for instictual design or clear purpose when it was being constructed. We're talking labyrinth here. Allow me to elaborate.

When I first opened the door I was faced by a short staircase or a door on my right which lead down. I needed to go to the basement, a door which goes down when the only other options are up and flee is the obvious choice. Turns out this door is locked, and probably employees only despite the total lack of sinage. Going up the stairs you find a large round room with a blackened old timsey printing press in the middle, hallways lead off to either side and no clear directions to anything are available. Walking halfway down the right hall way I make an impromptu map out of fire escape instructions, which tells me that I need to go down the left hallway. I descend a full flight of stairs to reach floor 1, another half flight of stairs to floor G, and in theory I should be able to follow this spiraloid staircase down to Basement. But it turns out that for no reason there's a set of metal bars preventing you from doing that. You have to go out into the hall, then into the door right next to the one you came out of to keep going downstairs. When I reached the basement level and walked through the building proper my true adventure began. I walked through hallways which took turns at seemingly random intervals and passed classes whose description didn't bring to mind any clear purpose. I passed large open rooms full of computers only 3 of which were occupied, at one point two of these rooms flank the hallway, and the walls of the hall are lined with arrow slit style windows. It gives you the impression that you're in some kind of observation cage, being gawked at by the natives at they drink their strange brown bean based drinks. I see a sign. It's taped to the wall, it looks to have been printed out months ago. Copy Center ->.

That would've been great if I wasn't at a an upside down T intersection. This means that strafing right and going forward is ->, but so its turning right. I pause to ask Thor for guidance, and he provides in the form of another equally dusty printout further down the hallway which is essentially straight ahead. I reach the center. They're out. I can pick one up tomorrow. I take a moment to ask Thor to punish these people and their foul citadel. I'll get back to you on that one, but if lighting strikes UW this blog will start having a lot more posts on my divine wrath. I turn around walk across the hall from the copy center. I go up only one flight of stairs (I went down 2 and 1/2 to get here) and outside into someplace I can't recall having been to ever. It seems that as a going away present they building has ejected me into some null space on the UW map. It turned out the be the place between the com building and the Thompson building, a place that you'd have to go sigfigantly out of your way to get to in any other circumstance. I stumble out of this university map limbo, and into the cold refreshing embrace of our 29th consecutive day of cloudiness. I may not have returned home triumphant, but I did return home, and that may be more then some can say.


I've been here for... 4 months or so now, and I'm still not used to the fact that I can walk in to a building, go up a flight of stairs, go two halls over down two flights of stairs and exit onto a surface walkway. In houston the only elevation you have is the highway overpass, Seattle by contrast is dangerously close to turning into one giant rockslide any day now.

My curse

I've told some, and now I'm telling the rest about a particular strange curse I have. This is the cures, of Irony. This isn't really a curse in the way that you'd think, because the effects are never really that bad.

Here's the latest incarnation of it.

11:30 I sit down with my overprice box of teriyaki chicken and rice to work on my physics homework. I know the concept on this stuff solid. I'm still doing pre-momentum newtonian mechanics, but the point is that this is homework whose difficulty lies purely in the math of it, not in any actual creative thought. I sit down, grab my book, my graph paper notebook, a pen, and my afore mentioned chicken and get to work. At around 1 I should head to PAB 115 for this weeks physics lab. should Instead I stick around to write out just how many newtons of force are delivered when a flower pot hits an inexplicable viscous fluid hovering 25 meters below wherever the pot first fell from (Actual problem.) At around 3 I look up, stretch in a way highly reminiscent of a wookie, and take stock of my situation.

"Dammmmn it!"

I missed my physics lab, because I was working on my physics homework.

Irony is a harsh mistress.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006


I just remember that the phrase "Reach out and touch someone" was a phrase I used to use a lot when my sorcer in D&D first learned the spell "Finger of Death"

I have to find someone to turn that into a T-shirt and market it to Jinx-hackware.

Reach out and touch somone.

When you eat something along the lines of 50% of your meals downstairs you begin to become familiar with the people who are getting their change working there. I’m not on first name basis with any of them, but I recognize them. Whether or not they recognize me I don’t know, there are something along the lines of 5,000 people in this complex, but that’s not the point anyway.

The Point is Erin. She’s starting to freak me out. If you watch her when she isn’t talking directly to a customer she looks like a fairly normal person, but when she’s talking to a customer she adopts an outlook that’s at serious risk of giving anyone within five feet diabetes. It gets to me not so much because she’s inhumanly cheery about things, but because anyone who’s making even a passive effort to watch her can see that it’s a mask. It’s not even a good one, because it’s only there when she’s talking to you, when she’s doing the more mechanical aspects of her job, boxing things, stirring, etc. she has a fairly ordinary expression.

You also have to remember that there isn’t any room for promotion at 1101. You’re there for as long as you’re living 50’ above the place, and then you’re gone. The highest promotion you’ll ever get is register, and I think that pays the same anyway. They don’t even have an employee of the month program.

So what’s the point? And trust me nobody would do this just because of who they are. She’s aggressively, VIOLENTLY friendly, in 15 second intervals when she’s taking your order and thanking you. I’m tempted to classify it as the world’s best managed case of schizophrenia*. I’m also tempted to grab her and shake her violently and shout WHY!?! But there are a lot of people in line ahead of her for that** Then again if I assault someone for being friendly we have a clear imbalance of crazy in her favor.

I have drawn one conclusion from all this madness though. Asian girls are screwing with my head. There’s a giant cabal of them out there somewhere, and they’ve arranged UW in a giant set of traps for me to negotiate around. I don’t know what their motives are, but I bet it involves something eldritch, maybe even macabre. I’m also open to the idea that the world is just a giant series of obstacles to maneuver around and that the statistics keep thrusting Asian girl as the facilitator of my recent set of obstacles, but I don’t like that idea as much because it doesn’t involve secret cabals, and I don’t get to use the word Macabre, which is a great word. Macabre rolls off your tongue.

*Holy crap! I spelled schizophrenia right on the first attempt.

**Dude you can’t just stand around on the ave reading sci-fi novels with a sign that says “please give.” Hell, you’re fatter then I am you’re obviously not going hungry. Put some damn effort into it.

Monday, January 16, 2006

The Ravings of a Mad Man

This is another story about a dream I had. Before I can tell it I need to explain a few things.

Somewhere between 40 and 70 percent of my dreams consist of me fighting things. There’s rarely a defined reason why I’m fighting, and the exact nature of the fight (weapons number etc.) are in constant change. It also tends to follow whatever my most recent escapist activity was. When I played Jedi Knights III Jedi Academy for prolonged periods of time I found that the weapon of choice became the light saber, and that the magic, there’s always magic in one way or another, became use of the force.

In this dream it was me as my most recent D&D character Sulfaras, a paladin and champion of righteousness, against a swarm of creatures that I couldn’t at first identity. Even when I woke up I couldn’t figure out what they were. I figured it out, but before I can tell you I have to explain a few more things.

The newest edition to our D&D group is Alex. He’s a good guy overall, he plays a berserker with a charisma score of 3. Because we value role-playing, this essentially requires him to be a jerk. He’s found creative ways to do that though. It’s the difference between trash talk and insult comedy. His character also uses bizarre outlandish phrases, which are actually just modern day English, but in the campaign setting they’re bizarre.

Ok now I can describe the creatures. They were humanoid in appearance. They all wore a black facemask that made only their eyes visible. This was fairly standard, but what threw me off was that they also wore long black fur coats and black velour pants with shinny black leather combat boots. They’re torsos were exposed and looked like that of a human male. They fought using various short curved blades, which were probably wakizashis, or tantos. The exact difference between those two is unknown to me. They fought with amazing dexterity as well. Back to Alex.

One of the outlandish things Alex’s character has is his hideout. He’s a heavily wilderness person, who lived in a small encampment on the edge of what is known as the dark wood. He calls this the “Pimp Ninja Training Camp”

And I think that’s what they were. They were a legion of Pimp Ninjas. I think my subconscious needs a hobby.

Friday, January 13, 2006

The Shattering of Focus

I had a thought Wednesday while I was in math lecture.

I hate doing this stuff. I hated when I was doing it in 11th grade, I hated it when I was doing it in 12th grade, and I still hate it now. Why do I keep signing up for math classes?

At a later and more meditative time this evolved into a full internal dialogue.

...Why do I keep signing up for math classes? Because you're good at it. Ok, there's two things wrong with that. First of all I'm a science person, not a math person. Also haven't I gotten a high C low B in math these last few years? True. But you enjoy physics, and in order to study physics you have to study math. Close but wrong again. I enjoy discussing physics from the theoretical and principle based perspective, the math is the worst part, and something I do primarily to convince people to keep teaching me more theory. Then because you're an engineer. But if this is a key part of engineering doesn't that mean I won't enjoy a job as an engineer? And this brings the obvious question of why, pray tell, am I an engineer. Because you're good at science. That's the first level of illusion, the doing the right thing, playing to your strengths one. Why are you really an engineer? Because I need a technical degree so that I don't get screwed over when globalization knocks me off my perch as a rich American Fat-Cat. Second level of illusion, the fear based one. Max you can't keep me out with your illusions and walls of bitterness, I'm you remember. So stop giving me the reasons you thought of After you chose this path, and tell me why you started on it. Money. A good engineer can make a fortune. Third level of illusion, the self glorified anti-hero. Everyone wants to be a badass Max, and nobody is. Besides this is just another obvious "Wall of bitterness" defense. Fear, greed, whatever form of evil you want to say motivates you. Why did you really start on engineering. ...Because it's what I've always done. I've been a science whiz since I was in 3rd grade. I had a natural technical aptitude, and it was just the road I've always been on. And you never questioned it? No... Not until now. Ok then, back to square 1. Problem analysis. Lack of a major. Check, possible solutions, and their faults

Electrical Engineering
-Not a math person
-Not a math person (not as much of a problem as it in in EE)
-Not sure what I'd end up doing.
-Might not be a real job
-Harassed by un-believers
-might not be any money in it
-Requires a Ph.D.
-Possible job insecurity. Globalization is still out there.
Alternative Medicine
-Niche market (mixed benefit)
-Not really a college education thing, more of a job that evolves from hobby and independent study
-Where's the money?
-Highly unstable job.
-May not posses actual writing talent. Most of the praise my writings have received were from friends/relatives.
-Inspiration based
-May have to be evil to be successful
-Highly competitive
-May require additional education
-Highly prone to being screwed over by globalization
-Despite being heavily God-Minded I don't affiliate with any major religion.
-Possible conflict with the nature of attachment to material goods as corrupting and doing clergy work professionally.

Ok, lets put mystic, clergy, alternative medicine, philosopher, and writer out of the career pile, and into the hobby pile along with cooking, roleplaying, webcomics, and video games. Of the ones that remain pick 3 EE, BE, Psych. Ok, now say why each one is good

Electrical engineering deals with the electricity/magnetism/light based physics which I had a fascination with in high school. While I did still hate the math part of it, it was made tolerant because of the physics components of it. I had the feeling when doing it that it was hard but fun, and when I stumbled back muttering to myself from the whiteboard that held a stream of madness and poorly drawn circuit diagrams with the right answer I had a feeling of success. The part that always felt like it was missing was making these circuits do something. EE is that part. EE is also a technical degree which means that if the world does flatten I'll still be step above the many, and it's a fairly well paying career from what I understand.

Bioengineering is similar to EE in its' merits. It's a more recently developing field of study and requires a little less math. I think my scientific proficiency would carry over into it based on my success in BIO II. This combines with my fascination with neurochemistry and my uncanny ability to think up weaponized versions of what my otherwise be medical miracles. Seeing how run-away the military budget is right now that could pay off big.

Psychology/psychotherapy. The second most fufilling thing I've done in life has been to serve as a counselor to friends in times of need. I'm fascinated by the human mind, I enjoy hearing peoples stories, and I have a near infinite capacity to be vented at. This job, judging from the bill Pereino used to give us, also pays quite nicely. It also has skills that can transfer over to day to day life. The only real problem with it is that the career I want from this requires 5-7 years of graduate study, and I'm not sure how I'd pay for it. A bachelors of psychology can get you certain jobs which I could do to earn the money to pay for certain training, but that may be a problem. I may be able to work at the place that's training me like that student barbershop in bellaire, but that's only a May thing. I'd also get the title of Doctor.

Ok, those 3. You're current set of classes can get you into either EE or BE, so you're set for that. The Psych BA doesn't have that many required classes. So if we flip out and decide we're really not an engineer we can make that jump pretty fast. Any idea what your ideal career would be? My anger is the same as it's been for 2 or 3 years now. Supervillan. However, since I'm still grounded in objective reality, I'll cope and decide on one of the ones offered. I'll decide later. ... Have we really solved anything with this whole discussion. No, but we diagrammed our ignorance. Whoop-de-freakin do. Next time I'm listening to the voice that tells me to shut up and cope instead of the one that tries to analyze and solve problems. He gets stuff done a lot faster.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Idle Thoughts

Not a Morning Person
"Every morning at 6:33 my alarm goes off and I die a little inside"

Politically Correct
"I wonder if blind people are offended by the phrase 'long time no see.' Especially those who aren't naturally blind."

+2 Intimidate -2 Charisma

My usual attire these days consists of one of my numerous witty/nerdy shirts, jeans, and my tech vest. It's not usually cold enough to warrant a full coat (I love my coat when I'm outside, but once I go inside it's murder) Today it was cold enough, and I noticed something. I'm scarier when I'm wearing the coat. I used to stalk around bellaire at night during the winter wearing my trenchcoat, both because I found the act great as a form of meditation, but also because every now and then one of the upper middle class Bellaire people would see a six and half foot tall person in a black trenchcoat walking around and freak out.

Yeah, I know that's mean but it didn't happen very often and it was hilarious.

While I do still do most of my medative musings while walking I usually do so in jeans and T-shirt, or more recently jeans and a vest and a T-shirt.

This morning when I was walking to Hebrew I noticed that everyone who fits the image of "college bound progeny of upper middle class white people" had a similarly evasive reaction. Also a good 50% of everyone in the "small female people" group.

I must admit I found the reactions a lot more interesting when I was violating the sanctuary of people who were Authority Figures. When it's my peers it's not that amusing.

However! I have realized that I will have recompense after all. When short Asian girl clips my eye with her umbrella I'm going to follow her around as a 6'4" one eyed ebon monster. Until it heals, and so help her if it's permanent damage.

P.S. Anyone who thought "+2 intimidate -2 charisma would only be a net bonus of +1 to intimidate" after reading the title of this post is a nerd.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Not compatible with Half Giants

It's raining. It's Seattle, it's always either raining, just stopped raining, or just about to rain. The rain isn't an issue, but it creates my latest topic of greif.

One thing that UW has in abundance is short asian girls. They walk around in the rain holding their umbrellas about one head length above themselves. For them that's nice and high, for me it's right at eye level.

The worst thing about this is that when, this isn't an If thing, one of those catches me in the eye I'm going to have no form of recourse. First of all when people say "Max who did that to you" and I say "some short asian girl" that leaves at least 10,000 people who satisfy that description to sort through. If I do manage to confront the offender it comes down to a case where a six foot four half giant male is mad at a five foot nothing skinny asian girl. I don't care if I can prove she just murdered my family nobody is going to take my side on that one. I just hope somebody catches it on tape when I get clipped, turn and look partially at (remember that one of my eyes will be horribly scratched) the offender and draw myself into my scary "I'm going to crush you now" pose, then die a little inside, deflate and walk towards hall health clutching what remains of my eye.

the little things

I walked to safeway and back just now and had a series of musing all of which are related to one thing.

The first of these occured to me when I was standing inbetween two other people, being rained on, and waiting for the street to clear so that I could cross it an get one block closer towards my destination. The part of me that's responsible for common sense looked around and then slapped me. I took one full step backwards and waited out the traffic under the awning of whatever coffee shop was on the end of that block, there's one on the end of every block.

That little bit of insight made that little chunk of my life better by a factor of 3 or 4.

2.7 moments later the person who was formerly on my left and more recently yet still formerly left and ahead of me realized what I had done. He too stepped back into the awning, the third person followed soon after.

The insights of the few can benefit the many

half an hour or so later I was walking back. It was still raining so I was making sure to be as far to my right as I could, positioning myself under the awnings. It dawned on me as I walked along side some guy I didn't know that my while my insight could benefit the many, sharing it would detract from what it gave me. I could only walk under the awning because other people were walking in the rain.


Thursday, January 05, 2006

Who'se the 30' Tall Thunder Lizard NOW

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Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Bistrology: 1-5-2005

First of all I'd like to point out that the Blog's formatting causes my origional flyer to come across a little wrong. If I ever get hold of a scanner I'll scan one of em. Word document versions of it availible upon request.


Max’s Bistro Latest Meal:

Chicken Stir Fry

Chicken Stir Fry is an extremely simple dish. It consists of yellow pepper, red pepper, green pepper, onion, and chicken fried up and served over steamed white rice.

Serving Thursday at 7 p.m. payment must be made before 5 p.m.

Price: 5$ per serving. I’m the one judging the serving size, so one serving should feed anyone who isn’t an ogre.

Ogres ask about our discount rates on bulk purchase.

Max's Bistro

I've just entered into the buisness with the highest failure chance that I know of.

Max’s Bistro
“Max’s, Just Eat Damnit”

Max’s Bistro is an alternative food services provided by a local student (Max). For a minor cost you can have fresh homemade foods.

How it works:

The available meals will be posted along with the price the day before they’re served. Payments should be delivered to a Max’s Bistro representative (Max again) at your local Max’s Bistro franchise (Max’s Room, #396) and will not be accepted later then 5 p.m. the day they’re served. The meals should be available by 7 p.m. that day.

Prices and participation may vary see store for details Max’s Bistro not responsible for anyone shot, stabbed, raped, poisoned, or converted to Mormonism while interacting with Max’s Bistro; all contacts subject to change without reason, some assembly required some restrictions may apply, batteries not included.

The Campus Crusade for Cthulu

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Good Christian

Damn it, I'm cold. It wasn't this cold when I left. This vest doesn't serve as an adequate insulator
Didn't mom tell you specifically that the vest was to carry stuff in not for cold weather
Shut up.

I'm also tired. Didn't get any sleep last night Damn overbooked flights. Oh, we have to kick four people off and make the rest of you wait half an hour while we do so. No wonder those bastards are going out of business. GAH! I've been up since 8 a.m. Tuesday
6 a.m. Tuesday, time change
Damnit! You're still not helping. Why don't you...

"Sir, would you like a free hot chocolate, courtesy of the University Methodist organization?"