um, didn't these guys pretty much start this shit in the first place?
Sick. malnourished. overworked. sore. bleh. coddle me.
I came to campus and there is this girl just freaking out right now. I mean sobbing. Calling people and sobbing. Her friend is halfheartedly comforting her. This is all over a rejected final paper draft. Ok adjust your topic. I'm pretty sure she is in second year. Oh, more hugs from the friend.
I sort of want to say something. I won't, but if I did, for my own entertainment I would purse my lips and start it with "Honey listen, you are going to need to calm the fuck down ok? There's going to be alot more where that came from"Then I'd use some southern aphorism about life being a shit show that you just have to ride out. It would be my sassy older woman who's been around act.
So when you launch Photoshop a box with the logo, copyright and creators pops up for a minute. big text block of names. Apparently this dude Seetharaman Narayanan has a bit of a novelty cult following among nerdy/avid photoshop users, because he just seems to stick in your head.
But I just noticed another name that is 452Xs better: Rod Golden. I'm going to see if he has written anything and no matter how irrelevant, find some way to cite him in my next paper (Golden, Rod 2005)
maybe it was the mango smoothie?
So I am currently wallowing in my own stench, waiting to be sure my awake roommate is done with the washroom for the night. It's really not in my character to be embarrassed about farts, faeces, poop, crap, etc. Actually it's more like the worlds longest running gag- one that I will always always find funny. Increasingly though, I have begun to tone down the poop talk around mixed company, as I don't want to illicit unnecessary feelings of disgust, disdain, nausea, horror, repulsion ... I could go on... as I have in the past. Plus it's a new roomie and the only one I haven't 'talked shop' with. Trivia: Last week another of the roommates (there are 3 in all) declared my name to be The Burpist, as I take burping to an art form. Only took 6 weeks of living here!
Maybe it was the fries from the chip truck (veggie oil, but still), or maybe it was the solid week of drinking, or maybe the unusually large amount of cheese, or the onion tofu curry?. Probably it was a little bit of each. Whatever the cause, the effect has been two days of sporadic (sidebar: clueless forever ruined that word for me), intense pain, and a race to the washroom. You know when you have gas that is bad enough to get those around you genuinely pissed off and frustrated? That was yesterday. Today is worse.
seriously this smell is one for the record books. Im actually worried that it has escaped the cracks of my door and seeped into the roommates room.
haha. its like I'm "live blogging" my gastro-intestinal activities.
I was going to crack open a tallboy, but that probably isnt a good idea.
OK, now that I've gotten that off my chest (there is a Cleavland Steamer joke in there somewhere), I'll try to limit future posts centred on my bowels.
Oh geezoh srftgnh. I'm really freaking out trying to decide my ENTIRE future FOREVER. Once I decide where to live there is no turning back and nothing can change the course.
Ok no. But dear lord that doesnt make it easier.
Stay in Toronto or move back to BC in July. for how long. doing what. when to travel. well, asap. eek.
When I am listening to M.I.A., leaving TO doesn't seem like an option.
Johnny Cash, on the other hand, makes Vic seem reasonable.
I m supposed to decide by friday!!!!
I was trying to figure out what we might have in common. Or at least, what we might be able to talk about without getting in a fight. I was drawing a blank; then I noticed his belt buckle! It may not be my taste (to put it gently), but I do love my belt buckle collection.
My headphones broke and I'm lost without them. It's making me all grumpy and shifty. I was in the market for a good quality set under 70$ anyway- any suggestions?
Dave stayed at my place again last night and brought a whole bunch of free pastries. Last night was wine, beer, samosas and those delicious greasy cookies. This morning was cheese spinach pastries and chocolate chip muffin. Naturally I feel like crap. Free food is my weakness- I am powerless to its draw. We gave the rest of the donuts to a homeless guy- I hope he doesn't get too thirsty.
So Dave was in town again this weekend (for those not in the know, Dave is a very good, but very platonic friend. My mom wishes it were otherwise, but that probably has a lot to do with the fact that Dave, like myself, has mastered the art of pleasing parents). On Saturday we went dancing b/c Dave’s favorite DJ was playing all night, last night ever for the room before it turns into indie rock or something. Something I never would have been into even a year ago, but to everything there is a season (turn, turn, turn). It was a good time. Some girl puking on the dance floor was a notable lowlight, serving as a reminder of why I hate clubs in the first place. We stayed until the bitter end, sun rising during the cab home. Sunday was grunts and groans and farts, lying around. We did manage to go out for breakfast at some point. The restaurant is a tightly packed place that serves up delicious heaps of food. As I was squeezing my way out from between two tables, I knocked over the basket full of little jams. Dave picked them all up, bless his heart. Then I made another attempt to escape, this time knocking over and smashing a bottle of hot sauce. Damn. Luckily, maybe, the hot sauce was almost empty- between the two of us Dave and I go through a ridiculous amount of hot sauce; particularly if it is that wimpo stuff that is more salt than heat. That is all.
Stomach Pain- StomachHelper.com - Stomach Pain guide Stomach health information here.
I woke up at 3pm. ridiculous. This weekend required some major recovery time.
Last night I laughed good at hard at this video. Hopefully it is still funny:
I handed her a dozen roses. 11 real. 1 fake. I said I'll love you until
the last one dies.. She gladly accepted them. But when she took them, She said "one of these is fake!" I said "exactly. that's because I will love you forever." If you post this in another city in 5 minutes, someone that you want to love you forever, will message or call you
Ok how did I not know about 'Soulja Boy tell 'em' until now? I saw his music video for 'YAAH' and Crank Dat last night, and after some consideration, decided he was a 17 year old genius- It is all hilarity. And oh my god the new generation they've grown up knowing myspace and youtube and video messages and all those things that have no spaces between the words in their names. I love that his video is in the 'burbs too. Finally the masses that listen to hip hop can relate! When we watched the video (on youtube, natch) I said it sounded like he used about three tracks from a home computer music program. Apparently that's exactly what he did- using the trial version!
The whole thing blew my mind. I love the significance pot brings to things
So does everybody already know all this? Turns out he's huge eh
The flehmen response, also called the flehmen position, flehmen reaction, flehming, or flehmening:
Oh so am officially adding a new animal to my list of favorites! It is the Tapir (pictured above, duh.). They sort of look like a mix of a pig and an ant eater (both of which are favorites!), but are apparently most closely related to horses (I'll learn to get past that) and rhinos (also a favorite!).
Found mostly in SE Asia, Central and South America. Apparently that lip curl in the first picture is called The flehmen response, also called the flehmen position, flehmen reaction, flehming, or flehmening. I like that. For some reason I think you’ll like this Hed: they have Monocular vision! Here is a baby tapir- not quite fair because every baby looks cute, but still. Only the babies have stripes. They are mostly nocturnal and spend most of their waking hours lounging, grazing, mud bathing, swimming, letting fish eat parasites off of them, and more eating. Also I can relate to them: "tapirs are likely to avoid confrontation in favor of running from predators, hiding, or, if possible, submerging themselves in nearby water until a threat is gone." (wiki) And would you look at their cute feet please?
Apparently in Anime, they can eat peoples dreams.
"if you want cut eye from old women just be young and exist"
Me and Jason Priestley.
I'm 13 here. Lucy sent it to me. There is so much to write, but I should start with the unfinished philosophy paper.
Yesterday- Tons of snow on the ground + above zero temperatures= slush slush everywhere, lakes of brown slushy water at every street corner. Today it is freezing -12c, so the slush is now dangerous, irritating ice. I did give Winter the go ahead a on a little bit of this, so I can't really start complaining for another week. If it is still like this in a week I am not going to shut up about it and everyone is going to hate me. If I die by slipping on ice and cracking my head open during my final semester here, please be sure that my obituary makes reference to my utter resentment of these abusive conditions.
when I was about 7 or 8 years old, maybe 9 I dont really remember, the older lady next door had her son and his family move in with her for a few months. I think they were in a tight spot, new to town, couldn't find a job. The family consisted of a french canadian wife and two young sons around my age. At that age,whatever it was, proximity is the basis of most friendships, so for that summer they were my best friends. I think we all sported matching mushroom cuts (looking back, I spent most of my youth with regrettable haircuts. Lets not even get into the rats tail). They were an incredibly wholesome family; the dad was always playing the guitar and the boys sang along. The boys were mightily impressed by his guitar playing, so I was too. They said that it was his gift from God. They said that everybody got a gift from God, though you probably wouldn't know what it was until you were a grown-up. I asked my dad what his gift from God was. My dad pragmatically avoided the question, but I was a brat a wouldn't shut up about it, so he said farting. So for a brief period in my life, I believed that my Dad's prolific farting was a Gift from God. Interestingly, it wasn't that I realized that farting wasn't a gift from God, it was that I realized I didn't believe in God.
On a gorgeous wintery day, this campus just feels so collegiate! In my fantasy, a few of my school chums and I trek through the blankets of snow to one of the many grand old fireplaces, sinking into a variety of overstuffed leather chairs. Thermos’ and a silver leather-bound flask emerge and soon everyone is clasping a hot toddy. The conversation pleasantly roars along with the fire, crackling with bon mots and glowing in a warm gaiety. Bentley, DO tell us that story of your brush with malaria whilst on safari! As mugs empty and refill again, parlour games are in order. Oh! And D is on his way from Queens by train for a weekend jaunt, what a delight!
Actually he is, should be good
Wish I had this 5 months ago. The first night I slept in my windowless room, I was taken aback by how oppressive it felt. I nabbed an old window frame complete with glass from the side of the road and put it on my wall. I sort of curtained it, but I never got around to my plan of lighting it, to create the very effect they have here. Instead, I moved out.
Considering those feeds are largely customized based on what I have written, I'm surprised I haven't seen more of these.
The site is lame, and you have to download the videos?! I prefer mine live anyway.
Not sure if it's something to be proud of, but this site immediately made me think of my dad.
I have a red chili pepper flake stuck in my eye! iiyeeee! I was about to take my first bite of a much needed hearty bowl of pasta, pulled up my fork and FLICK, flake into the eye. I cant see it now, but its there, lodged deeply, scratching and slowing releasing painful capsaicin into my eye like a time-released fuuuuckkyooouuuu. First bite too. what a damper to my eating experience. Luckily every spice in this house is way too old and thus impotent; it could be worse.
the other day at the drug store I let out a thick one. it was baad. So I gave the woman beside me the most disgusted and condemning look I could muster, as if the power of the glare alone would transcend all logic and make her feel guilty.
Answer now! Receive a laptop!
Slap the belly!
Find out your crushes name!
the guys who 'santizited' movies (barf), paid to have sex with 14 year olds. well duh. Reminds me of those horrid ex-gay "reprogramming" groups. or Ted Haggard. It's shit like this that makes it so hard for me to be ok with religion.