AND THE LACK THEREOF*

*we put the "mmm" in communism

about

This is the personal blog of Tim. Here, Tim writes on anything he has enough inspiration to finish a post on. That usually ends up being matters of science, pop culture, technology, religion, and philosophy.

This blog is around nine years old, which is over a third of Tim's current age. Back in 2003, it was called "Of Tim: Tim's life - or lack thereof", and it was as bad as you might expect the blog of a freshman in high school to be. Tim hopes that his writing is a little better, these days.

Tim welcomes any input that you, the dear reader, might have. Comments are very much appreciated, especially if you have a dissenting opinion. If you'd like to learn more about Tim, you might want to see his facebook or google+.

Also: Tim is a very avid consumer of various sorts of music. You may be interested in his playlists!

Shameless? Perhaps.
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I have recently been accused of shamelessely whoring myself for the chance of increasing the traffic this site sees. My response? You are 100%, absolutely, positively, without a doubt, correct.

With this fact established, I must move on. Right now, as I have told several of my colleagues, my body feels like nausea. My muscles refuse to cooperate. My head feels like a small child has just discovered the piano and has decided to attempt to play the Tocatta in D Minor with no formal training. My stomache? Let's not go there. Long story short, I didn't go to school today, with this being possibly the first day that I actually had a reason beyond hating school to stay home. I hadn't eaten all day, until I just now ate 4 pieces of pizza, and yet I can estimate no measurable difference in feeling as far as my stomache is concerned.


As far as school is concerned, I face a crossroads of some level of importance. I have three options for physics. I can stay in AP Physics, which will require a bulleted list to explain the advantages and disadvantages.
  • A fairly large amount of work is required.
  • Will require about twice as much work as I'm doing now to hopefully ensure an acceptable grade.
  • Lots of friends in the class, but...
  • ...she just changed the seating arrangement to adjust for people that have left the class, separating all of us. Since most of the class is spent listening to her lectures, this basically reduces the fun factor by a lot.
Or, I can move to Honors Physics.
  • Will require minor amounts of work.
  • Will require minor amounts of explaining to the guidance counselor and teacher.
  • Will probably not have many (if any) friends in the class.
  • Will probably require a major schedule change.
  • Will have a better teacher.
Or, I can move to Conceptual Physics.
  • Will require no work at all.
  • Will not require a schedule change.
  • Will require large amounts of explaining to the guidance counselor and teacher.
  • Will have friends in the class.
  • Will be a LOT of fun (or so I'm told).
  • Will have a better teacher.
What do you guys think? I'm willing to keep giving AP a chance, but basically whether I want to stay in or not is determined by the results of this next test. If I could go back, I would certainly do conceptual or normal honors, but having made the bad choice of AP, I have to either live with that or do something about it. Bleh.

[edit]

I encourage you all to go get a Facebook. Akin to MySpace, but far better, and a little more personal. An invitation is required, so let me know if you need one.

[/edit]

[edit^2]

I just noticed there's a link I can just supply you with to invite you.

Go here.

[/edit]
Slightly Belated
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Thanksgiving calls for a bulleted list. So, I know what to be thankful for now.
  • brothers
  • conviction
  • friends that care
  • friends that don't care
  • my necklace
  • 270 degree spins in the car
  • the Killers
  • Gamespot
  • Google custom pages
  • Slashdot
  • Chili's quesa
  • my mom's lasagna
  • Battlefield 2
  • your mom
  • last night, with your mom
  • predictable your mom jokes
  • predictable nights with your mom
  • christmas lists!
  • obligatory God/Jesus references in Thanksgiving lists
  • revolutions in thought
  • bash.org
Things are better. I'm not sure if I should explain, but things are better.
Blurf
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This Thanksgiving, I am unusually unthankful. I have plenty of things to be thankful for, but these seem very insignificant compared to the problem I am faced with right now.

That problem, I believe, is me.

I called Mr. semi-famous old guy twice yesterday. The first time, to say that I would be an hour late (mostly due to me not getting up soon enough). He hung up on me while I was talking. The second time, to say that I needed to cancel. I was told, in response, that this was goodbye, that I was completely unreliable.

My initial response was denial. I felt that the circumstances for which I could not work for him were out of my control, and that he had no right to disrespect me like that. Upon examining the situation, however, I realized he was right. The reason I had to cancel was so that I could rake leaves with my dad, which he had rather firmly insisted I do in exchange for staying home Monday. When it got dark before I got to it on Monday, and spent all of Tuesday at that Robotics LAN, it had to be Wednesday. While the timing for that was mostly out of my control, the whole reason I had to rake the leaves was because I stayed home. I stayed home because I failed to finish my work in a timely manner.

I've replayed the exact conversation in my head at least a few dozen times. It's wrenching me. I feel like I should send an email apologizing, but I'm not sure he would even want that. I have never been this utterly lost and incapacitated. I was caught off guard.

I don't get caught off guard. That's not what I do. But that's what the past three months have been for me, situations and people and challenges that are catching me off guard. Perhaps it's because of the summer. Having a job that was generally fun, productive, AND pertained to what my aspirations for a career are, feeling like I was learning something every day, never feeling felt constricted or bored, it put me in my comfort zone, to say the least.

I'm really not sure what to be thankful for, these days.
The Oreo Complex
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The previous run of generally silly and incoherent posts has been for a reason. Partially out of a desire to appease you folk, while still putting forth as little effort as possible. Writing real posts like these is more laborsome than it might seem, however necessary it may be. Especially when you honestly don't know what day it is, and you can't remember your best friend's phone number.

Life, on the whole, is not great. For the past week, I have had some kind of ADHD syndrome, I can't concentrate at all. The past two nights have been of the worst kind. I would find something to do or talk about that takes a long time (usually very important, but still not a good time to do), leading me to distract myself until the midnight to 1:00 AM hours, at which point I realized I had a three-page memoir to write, the full documentation for my CS program left to do, two tests to study for, math homework, and at least six pages of physics problems to do. After getting next to nothing done Sunday night, despite being up till 6:00 AM, I stayed home, and repeated this process again, but this time giving in at 4:30 after merely finishing the memoir, and nothing else.

By the time I passed out at 4:30, I was thinking, "Lord, I'm toast, do something!". To my delirious surprise, I was greeted with a series of miracles that I didn't actually expect. One of the problems with staying home Monday was that I also missed a day in my second-period engineering class, in which we were reverse-engineering parts. I was at the point where I was modeling it in CAD, but due to some really complex features, I was getting nowhere. Mr. Briegle had actually sat down and finished the entire part for me. I walk into Physics class, dreading this cumulative test we were about to have (which, by every report I've heard, is by far the hardest test ever made). I hadn't done the homework the night before, so there was absolutely no way I could win this one. I did the 'concerned student' thing and asked her what I had missed the day before, and before I knew it, she was letting me skip the test to study, and I could take it Monday. She wasn't particularly pleased in doing so, and if I don't manage to make her very happy, I don't know what will happen. I was, however, greeted with an unexpected setback in CS. My grace days for the overdue project were used up - I did not know she counted weekends, so I figured I could hand it in Monday as well. Turns out, if I don't drive the printed project over to her house, handing it in on Monday will fetch me a negative 30 point late bonus. My dad will be entirely unpleased with doing this, and he is not happy as is.

Despite this minor miracles, I feel very much on edge, especially with a lot of teachers and such. My work ethic has crashed. My report card came back with a 2.67 GPA (the lowest I've ever had), and although there was nothing below a C, everything hovered in the plain B range. I don't know what it's going to take to put the desire back in making consistent quality work, but I've gotta get it back somehow. School incites nothing more than sadness at the disapproval of the teachers I respect, instead of a desire to go and do well (technically "to go and do well" should be "learn", but high school isn't very "learning" filled). I generally just feel off balance, like I haven't had nearly enough sleep.

In conclusion, I would really love to get an Xbox 360, enough so that I may attempt to get a real job. Speaking of which, I sent in my resignation to Mr. Semi-famous old guy, but he wasn't very responsive about it. I'll work for him once again tomorrow, and that should be about it. As for other work, I'm not entirely sure what to do. I've checked with Ian (Sho's dad, the engineer, for those who don't recall) a number of weeks ago when I was killing myself with work, at which point he suggested I wait until my schedule was free to plan on anything. If I can ever get these grades on track, working like 4-8 hours a week over there would be great. We'll see in the next few weeks.

For now, I should sleep. I've heard that being awake for 21 hours makes one mildly intoxicated, and with a little less than 2 and a half hours of sleep, that should make me well nigh drunk, comparitively. I sure hope Thanksgiving dinner is good.
I shouldn't be doing this.
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I had this crazy dream last night.

At first sitting in my old car (the blue Mazda MPV, a van of generic proportions), my dad and I got out and entered the nearby grocery store (i believe it was a Jitney Jungle, a Tops-like southern chain), which for some reason, had its front doors closed. This was soon resolved by a burley set of men carrying a battering ram (a big log, in this case), bashing the automatic sliding doors, which somehow caused them to open (correctly, no less).

Upon entering the grocery store, everything seemed to be in order. All the lights were on, everything was perfectly maintained, but all the staff were gone. And yet, for some reason, everyone just went about their business shopping. I, of course, being the brilliant being that I am, realized the perfect opportunity to loot the store for cookies and bacon (this was a very vivid dream), and quickly sprinted about the store looking for these two items. My first attempt at looting cookies from the store yielded the largest cracker in existence. No, really. I grabbed a cracker that was three feet in diameter, mistaking it for a cookie. Unable to find my favorite "Chips Ahoy!" brand cookies (this store was like Aldis, it only carried the crappy third-party stuff), I figured the next best thing was bacon. After digging through layers of vegetables (this store also had an amazing selection of vegetables, which many customers told me during my search for cookies and bacon), I was rewarded by a plain white box of "Willard" brand bacon, which I tossed into my dad's shopping cart.

This whole time, my dad had been perusing a single wall of frozen items, and was not as enthusiastic about looting the store as I was. Knowing the staff would return soon and catch me looting (although at this point there was no proof of that), I sprinted about the store to find it was actually ridiculously small, and that it only had one entire wall of crackers, two isles of frozen items (mostly vegetables and spatulas), and a few big bins of cauliflower. In my desperate need to steal something from this store, I grabbed three boxes of crackers, and started to push towards the door when a single cashier came from the back room. Figuring we could still run, I pushed forward, but my dad stopped and informed me that I would have to repay the debt by sweeping the sidewalk.

I don't remember what happened after that, but that was one weird dream.
These still aren't old.
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In what has been a shamelessely silly run of posts, I continue the tradition, and hopefully end it now.



You are 'programming in QBASIC'. This programming
language (of which the acronym stands for
'Quick Beginners' All-purpose Symbolic
Instruction Code'), which is so primitive that
it cannot easily be used for any purpose
involving the Internet nor even sound, was
current more than a decade ago.

You are independent, in a good way. When something
which you need cannot be found, you make it
yourself. In writing and in talking with
people, you value clarity and precision; your
friends may not realize how important that is.
When necessary, you are prepared to be a
mediator in conflicts between your friends.
You are very rational, and you think of things
in terms of logic and common sense.
Unfortunately, your emotionally unstable
friends may be put off by your devotion to
logic; they may even accuse you of pedantry and
insensitivity. Your problem is that
programming in QBASIC has been obsolete for a
long time.


What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
The Sad, Sad Clown
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I don't normally post so often, but the hilarity of this situation will be lost if I don't act soon. I worked for Mr. semi-famous old guy today, and I've been pushed to the brink. I shall try to detail the events as humorously as possible.

Today, after school, I was "chilling" amongst the 40 degree rain with my "homeez" before I checked with Mr. semi-famous old guy to make sure I wasn't skipping work. Understand, I didn't really expect to be doing yardwork in 40-degree rain, I almost didn't call because of my confidence that he would not be needing my work today. Nevertheless, I toddle into the nurse's office. At the time, it had stopped raining only five minutes before.

Apply a very, very thick Russian accent to everything, and picture a stout man that is 4 feet tall, and the humor begins to take shape.
Me: "Hello Eugene, I'm checking up to see if you still want me to work today. It got awfully cold and rainy outside today."
Mr. semi-famous old guy: "It stop raining. Let me see."
(i wait approximately 1 minute, with only the noise of many things crashing on the other side of the phone)
Mr. semi-famous old guy: "No, it's fine. Come!"
Me: "Uh...alright...it's kind of wet, but, I'll be there in a bit. Thanks."
(the phone clicks off without him saying goodbye)
I make my way on up to his house, which is about ten minutes away. Upon arrival, he sees my attire of shorts and a fleece jacket, and a new dialogue ensues.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: This is not proper attire. You need pants and coat!
Me: It's fine, I'm not that cold, let's just get to work.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: I don't want you catch cold!
Me: No, really, it's fine.
At this point he gave me the directions for planting the tulips around, but glaring problem stood in the path of doing this. He wanted me to plant at least a dozen tulips in a garden I'd already thoroughly planted in. There was practically no room left.
Me: I'm not sure there's going to be room in here. If I dig, I may hit the bulbs I've previously planted.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: What bulbs? I don't remember this.
Me: It was a few weeks ago, I don't remember the names. I planted them all over, though.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Uh..throw out these annual greens and plant next to them.
When he shuffles off, I'm a little worried. This now leaves an entirely barren patch of garden, filled with three kinds of bulb-type annuals. That's gonna be one screwed up garden come next year. As he comes back out, he's carrying a beige trenchcoat.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Put it on, if you will.
Me: Really, I'm fine! I'm only here for another fifty minutes, I'll be perfectly okay!
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Please, I don't want to you catch cold!
Me: I'm certainly not cold, especially my upper body. I have a jacket on.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Wear it, I don't want you catch cold!
Not wanting to give the guy a heart attack, I figured I would appease him. How cumbersome could a trenchcoat-jacket be? I begrudgingly put it on.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: You should zip it up.
Me: ...
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Do you need help?
Me: No, it's fine, I can zip it up myself.
As I start to break ground (it's now been 10 minutes since I got there), the first ground I hit contains an old bulb. After discussing the significance of this for at least five minutes, he does not relent and I keep going. He wanted me to stick the tulip right on top of the old bulb. Maybe he should stick to math, and not gardening. He shuffles away again and I manage not to hit any more old bulbs, thanks to the clear space provided by the now shredded Begonias and furry green things. He comes back out, this time carrying jeans. These are not just any jeans. These are jeans with a waist size of 50. My waist is a 30.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Be a good boy and obey me just this once, and put these on.
(i give him a blank stare)
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Please! Put it on!
Me: We're wasting time. Just let me work.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: You'll catch cold!
Me: I'm not gonna catch a cold in the forty minutes I have left.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Please put it on.
Wanting to ensure that I get payed, I obliged him. Overestimating the width, I didn't take my shoes off before attempting the feat of putting these gargantuan pants on. They got stuck at the very bottom, and I spent three minutes doing the one-legged dance attempting to pull my shoes out of the jeans, while not getting my socks wet, and then getting the jeans on over my shorts. At this point, I must have looked like some kind of clown. I have waist size 50 jeans on, a bullet-proof trenchcoat, and massive gardening gloves on. As expected, they immediately began to fall off, and I did the "no-belt waddle" to prevent them from just falling to my ankles.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Ah, you need a belt.
Me: Naw, really? Please, just let me get to work.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: You waste time trying to keep them on!
Me: We're wasting time now! I only have thirty-five minutes left!
Mr. semi-famous old guy mumbled and shuffled back inside, and I managed to work for another ten minutes without interruption. This time, he held a striped belt.
Mr. semi-famous old guy: You need this.
(at this point, i was mildly afraid he would start beating me with it)
Me: No. I don't. Just let me work! We only have a little time left!
Mr. semi-famous old guy: Please, put it on.
He put the belt on a nearby chair and shuffled away yet again. I was able to work in mild peace for the next twenty minutes, until my dad showed up, and that was that. I'll probably write him an email tonight, with one of two options for him. Either I quit, or he pays me two (maybe three) more dollars an hour.

I feel kind of bad giving that kind of option to an old guy well-versed in a field I'll eventually need to be heavily acquainted with, but that was just ridiculous. I mean, really.

EDIT: Since people seem to not be noticing the link to the wikipedia article (wiki is slow today), the guy is a semi-famous mathematician, he's 80+ years old.

Also, I hold in my hands a check for seven dollars. Clowns get payed more per hour than that, right?
As a wise woman once said...
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"These are like therapy."

Obligatory Bash.org quotes! Seperated into geek and non-geek, and more offensive ones are just linked.

Warmaster_Horus: But some of the stuff you can do with mayo is good
NiTessine: Yes. Like assassinations.
Mithran: You assassinate people with mayo?
NiTessine: Nobody ever suspects mayo.

Sefy89: God my mom wont stop yelling
Dested: wat did u do this time?
Sefy89: i called her lazy and told her to get up and do some work
Dested: ...doesnt your mom have a broken leg?
Sefy89: thus the noise

McKhaos: this guy asks me
McKhaos: how many people work in your company ?
McKhaos: my answer
McKhaos: about a third

Chronic Munchies: imagine if anne frank had a BLOG instead of a DIARY
Chronic Munchies: currently listening to: nazis pounding on the door
GenAmonX2K: Current Mood: concentrating

donchongo: i wonder what possesed some one to invent play-doh and silly putty
Wildfire: poop dries out to fast
donchongo: that really put a screeching halt to my thought process

* Porter is now known as PorterWITHGIRLFRIENDWHOISHOT
Strayed: he shot his girlfriend?

testman: i asked my girlfriend to come home to watch the last samurai
testman: and she answered "i'd like to, but i didn't see the first ones"

hahacornut: I need visual aids for my presentation tomorrow
Narcissus: go to visual africa

[geek]

* Mapionetka then wonders what the hell he is going to do with his 32mb mem stick
ginji: stick it where the sun doesn't shine Mapionetka ?
Mapionetka: in my computer room?

DmncAtrny: I will write on a huge cement block "BY ACCEPTING THIS BRICK THROUGH YOUR WINDOW, YOU ACCEPT IT AS IS AND AGREE TO MY DISCLAIMER OF ALL WARRANTIES, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, AS WELL AS DISCLAIMERS OF ALL LIABILITY, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL OR INCIDENTAL, THAT MAY ARISE FROM THE INSTALLATION OF THIS BRICK INTO YOUR BUILDING."
DmncAtrny: And then hurl it through the window of a Sony officer
DmncAtrny: and run like hell

tdo: i was helping my tech teacher out a few days in july or so
tdo: and i got some calls
tdo: from potential customers
tdo: and one of them was this little boy who couldn't have been more than six or seven
tdo: and he was almost in TEARS
tdo: "everything i type is in caps what do i do my moms goinng to kill me"

[/geek]

http://bash.org/?577458

http://bash.org/?576018

http://bash.org/?575362

http://bash.org/?572066
These never get old.
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You scored as Maximus. After his family was murdered by the evil emperor Commodus, the great Roman general Maximus went into hiding to avoid Commodus's assassins. He became a gladiator, hoping to dominate the colosseum in order to one day get the chance of killing Commodus. Maximus is valiant, courageous, and dedicated. He wants nothing more than the chance to avenge his family, but his temper often gets the better of him.

Maximus

75%

Neo, the "One"

67%

Indiana Jones

54%

Batman, the Dark Knight

54%

The Terminator

50%

The Amazing Spider-Man

46%

William Wallace

46%

Captain Jack Sparrow

38%

El Zorro

29%

James Bond, Agent 007

29%

Lara Croft

21%

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com
For the Irony
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No, really. It's irony this time. No dead squirrels, no metal, it's 100% irony that I present to you tonight.

As per the standard of recent days, I sit staring off into space yet again during Physics class. Ms. Lynn is talking about something, I don't remember what, probably something to do with work and power. My ears perk up as she says, "So, I graded your tests.". My heart sinks, I slouch on my stool, and stare at the featureless bench, minus the writing "YOUR MOM", authored by yours truly. She makes her way around the class handing out the tests. Lo and behold, even with 14 points of curve, I still take a 64. Ben manages to get a glance at my test before I shove it in with my numerous notes that I've taken throughout the course of the class. He gives me a woeful look and pats my shoulder. It means a lot.

I take a swift look at Matt's test. Identical to Ben's, he receives an 88 (after 4 points of curve). I look through the test for a few seconds, understand everything I did wrong, and try to look like I'm doing something productive with the nauseating paper, littered with red ink. I realize I'm tearing up, so I start taking longer breaths. It's not working. I stare at the computer sitting next to me. There's nothing interesting about it. I desperately look for something to focus on besides the damned test. I sniff, and to my dismay it's audible. I glance at the clock just as the bell rings for our 5 minute break.

I follow the normal routine and sit with Ben and Matt as they talk to Julia and Ana. Karel strolls over in his merry gait, and asks how I did on the test. I couldn't laugh about it this time. Hell, I couldn't even speak. I managed to whisper that I got a 50. He says it's just a test. I knew. I know. It doesn't make it hurt less. As my self-control is just about to break and a drop rolls out of my eye, I pretend to scratch my eyes, and pretty briskly walk out of the room, unfortunately not as stealthily as I had hoped, attracting the concerned inquiry of Matt. I jog to the bathroom down the hall. It's empty, thank heavens, and I give myself 5 seconds before going back into class. I sit back at my bench with a minute of our break still left, and attempt to look like I'm doing something. Within another minute, I've got my grin back on and manage to stay that way for the rest of the day.

Fast forward, I'm at Acoustifest. I wasn't there for the music. Chasing after a girl I couldn't even figure out how to talk to, that's what I was there for. After an hour of bad music and general nothing, I finally get the chance to talk. Nothing comes out. I see Sho and go jump on her lap, and we talk for a while, and things are jovial for the few minutes I'm with her. I stroll back over to the girl, and I get nervous, I can't figure out what to say. Way to go.

She says we need to talk. I'm nice, she was confused, we should be friends. I agreed. I sit with Sho again for a couple minutes. Lacking the desire to do anything, I walk out of the Lost Dog, and run the 2 miles (1.4 discounting the slope, equivelant to around 1.75, round it off) in 10 minutes. I open the door to my room to find that nobody has bothered to let Jen out of my room, and there are 200 tootsie rolls on the floor, my headphones have been shredded, my bed covers have been removed, and a present has been left for me near the opposite door.

I clean it all up, and when all is said and done, I'm nauseated. I want to sleep, and it's only 11:00. I find things to fill my head with for another 5 hours. I talk to Daniel. It helps. I talk to Amy. It helps. The excessive talking makes my head feel empty, so I sit down and play a game for a few hours. Still restless, I watch a few episodes of Arrested Development. Still not wanting to sleep, I manage to put in a few hours before Jonathan appears around 6 AM to watch some movie. I get a few more restless hours and lose the will to rest around 11 AM.

I was disinclined from writing any of this for the sake of not appearing emo. But honestly, expressing emotion is not emo. Whining is. Complaining, ungratefulness, ignorance, that's emo. There's a time and a place for everything.

Two (2) things should be clear here. If I see any comments apologizing for this, any comments remotely suggesting pity, I will delete them. I did not write this to receive your pity. I do not want your pity. Do not give it to me. Secondly, because I know someone will mention the fact that there were two (2) objectionable words in here, I should mention that there are times in which I can find no other word fitting to express the given emotion. I rarely swear, so as not to deprive the severity of the word for when the situation calls for it. I will not mention this again in future posts; remember it.

God's given me exactly what I need. I've got good friends who are looking out for me - given what's going on (and there is more than what you read here), that's exactly what I need.
Your mother dresses you funny.
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Owned.

[EDIT: Friends, family, colleagues and associates. This vandalism will not be stood for. It will not be tolerated. Further insubordination by the fans of "And the Lack Thereof*" will be subject to retaliation. What the nature of this will be is not yet known. It should be stated that further security measures are being taken to prevent this vandalism. Have a moderately good day.]

[THIRD EDIT: It should also be noted that Tim, no matter how much he rues it so, will forever remain vulnerable to this vandalism.]

[FOURTH EDIT: It should also be noted that I stood by and watched this instance of vandalism.]
The Donut Inequality
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[geek]

Today, my friends, is November 9. 11/9/04, a day that will live in infamy. One year ago, Halo 2 came out. I was there. At midnight. You all remember now, don't you? Today, I recall the hype that I spewed over that single disc of C++. We'll look back at the poem I wrote. Everything. It's just going to be great, you know?

O Halo Two, how I love you,
you give me so many things to do!

With just a single DVD,
you unleash a world of glee!

Never straining the Front Side Bus,
for you were coded in C++!

Such an arsenal to explore,
with which to make war!

So many maps to inhabit,
awesome is what you emit!

Powered by a large Xbox,
you clearly rock my socks!

Halo Two, I kindly request of thee,
thy hand in marriage to me!


I remember Sam Miller getting up in front of my English class and reading that to everybody. I was too bashful to read it. Sadly enough, I admit that Halo 2 is not the best ever. It is not as good as Halo 1. Many of you out there agree, many don't. But it was fun while it lasted.

Moving on, here's a quick synopsis of what my time has been wasted upon the last week or so. Ben and Matt introduced me to a silly French game by the name of Dofus (doh foos, not do fuss, i think...anyone taking French out there?), which has been quite enjoyable. I won't provide you with linkage, as a quick Google will provide you with the information you need. You need the exercise anyways.

[/geek]

My grades, dare I say, have reached a new level of suck. I'm desperately avoiding having the first ever D, or worst yet, F on my quarterly grade. Blast my foolishness, being late to school over 10 times. Ho ho.

I also feel that I need to address the accusation that this blog is closely related to slash. The official response is that this is not slash. You may quote me on that. Please do.

Lots of things are happening, more on what that means for your weekend, at 10.

EDIT: Irony. I was all pumped that Sam was gonna be here tomorrow, and was gonna edit this to say that. Not so.
Holy Captions Batman!
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So, about those pictures from camp. These are actually Benjamin's, but I figure I'd give them proper captions. Wohoo. One day, my own pictures may get developed.



"All...your base...are belong to us? What? Isn't that from some game?"

(i'm willing to bet not many of you will actually catch that one)



"Heavens above! It's Jack Thompson!"



"No."



"Heavens above! It's Jack Thompson!"