Monday, April 18, 2005

The raccoon kittens in the chimney are acting up again.
It's quite creepy, actually: I can hear them whining and crying and making all manner of noises that would lead any lesser evil than that that is Godel mad with fear of some kind of sick, cannibalistic ritual among the stupider of mammals (i.e. not humans).
They were born a few weeks ago, and I think my parents' patience is wearing thin, as my dad has been muttering about smoking the "little bastards" out for a while now. Actually, the other day, he accidentally knocked the flue open, and they almost got into the family room. That would have been something: tiny, soot-covered, squeaking excuses for carbon-based life streaking across the expensive carpet my sister already spilled pop on and the sofa my cat has already injured in a few places. *eyebrow*


Anyway, Azure-jiji's roommate or whoever is a bastard-crap. I have no idea what that title might imply, if I were to put my mind to thinking it through, but it seems to fit the situation nicely.


I just received an e-mail from some one named "Anus Al-alami". You know what? Just...DELETED.
God, some people are utterly fuckwitted.


To get back on the entirely unpredictable track, I've been thinking lately. Not that I don't do this all the time, in very sophisticated ways. I guess what I mean to say is I've been thinking about something specific lately. What? Swearing. And how diverse it is.
Anglophones have so many ways of telling some one the intellectual equivalent of "go bang your lawnmower", it's nearly unbelievable. But then, you realize that just about every one over the age of ten uses these expressions at least fifty times a day, and you just kind of shrug it off. They're so commonplace. We have more ways of telling some to piss off than to say, "What fine weather we're having."
Which proves that the human species is fundamentally irritable.

So, when people complain that TV is making their kids swear too much, they should realize that nobody swears that infrequently, except Sara. She truly is a positive role-model.


My essay on stem-cell research received a pretty-much-awesome, as I was awarded the highest mark THE BOARD deems possible and my teacher had absolutely nothing negative to say about it aside from, "Hand in your damn bibliography or you're just plain screwed." So I have to cite Wikipedia, and possibly a couple of other, useless sources. Because, compared to Wikipedia, all other sources are just BS.


I spent three hours drawing a five-panel comic yesterday, and I still need to revise the details, somewhat. God, J Jacques is insane. (Is it just me, or is the newest comic somehow...wider?)


Anyway, my friend's a dumbass, because he wrote that researching pathogens would help us discover the location of Elvis on an essay for a nation-wide competition.


Incoherent, you say? Well, go bang your lawnmower.
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