Formerly Felines for Anarchistic Green Democracies

A Bostonian at the University of Michigan.


There will also be discussion of the New England Patriots, Miami Dolphins, and Michigan Wolverines. Probably in that order.

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Blogging the Detroit Tigers for the Most Valuable Network.












the flickr photostream

Head here to see what I've been shooting lately.


the game sets

Head here to see the shots from a specific baseball or football game (or anything else I've made a set for).



Features


Spelling rant
Yankee Star Wars
A Tigers Comedy of Errors
How bad is Keith Foulke really?
Harry Potter and the Boston Red Sox
Bellhorn vs. Graffanino vs. Lamprey
Critiquing team slogans
Joey Harrington blogs a baseball game
Jason Varitek gets injured
Winter meetings fashion report
Mascot Rant #1
Mascot Rant #2




8 Days of Jewish Baseball
Day 1- Kevin Youkilis
Day 2- Brad Ausmus
Day 3- Al Levine
Day 4- Jason Marquis
Day 5- John Grabow
Day 6- Justin Wayne
Day 7- Shawn Green
Day 8- Gabe Kapler and Theo Epstein

the Story of Chanukah, Red Sox style
Part I: the cruel reign of Steinbrennochus
Part II: rise of the Soxxabees
Part III: the rebellion begins!
Parts IV, V, and VI
Parts VII and VIII


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Fun with Roster Photos
Note: Comments may not exactly correspond to images, as the images will change when the team puts up new photos. Adds a level of surreality, I think.
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if you are wishing to email the resident feline anarchist, you may do so at
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Wednesday, April 30, 2003  
Mmmmm. Endocrine. Delicious sweetbreads.

Math homework last night was one of the worst things I have ever had to do for homework. It was long. It was mind-boggling. It was depressing. And I know that it's exactly what I have to face for that stupid AP test.

In the Globe yesterday, there was an article about stem cells. Rather, there was an article about how stem cells can be gotten from BABY TEETH. My gawd. What a revolutionary breakthrough! We need fetuses no more! Just the teeth of your young children!

And just think, if there are poor parents out there looking for a little extra cash to get their bills paid, they have a ready source of money right there! I'm sure scientists and scientist-like folk will pay to get their hands on stem cells. So all that any poor parent has to do is pry out the teeth of their children! A ready source of income! And it's not like they won't grow back! It's perfect!

Gosh I love stem cells. If anyone happens to know where I can download the South Park concerning Christopher Reeves and stem cells, drop me a line. I finally posted my email on the side, and hopefully it will post properly, but it is there permanently so that you can email me whenever it strikes your fancy to do so.

I also put up a link to the Tourniquet site which I view on occasions. Sometimes it makes my soul hurt, because this woman can draw like you wouldn't believe. Well, maybe you would believe it, but it's damn good in any event. So it's there for your viewing.

A couple of days ago in bio, we were beginning a unit on the senses. So our teacher asked the obvious question, "How many senses do we have?", just to see if we were paying attention. A lovely girl who shall remain unnamed piped up, "Six!" She then proceeded to name them: "Seeing, hearing, touch, smell, feeling". OK. First of all I would like to point out that she only named five senses, after saying that there are six. There are five, just in case you didn't know, and I would also like to point out that touch and feeling are the same, and also that she seems to have ommitted taste.

Sometimes I get so happy hearing these things in class. I just want to leap up and give the person who said them a great big hug, and I want to say, "Thank you! Thank you so much for giving me just that much more knowledge today! Thank you for enriching my life just that little bit! Thank you so much!"

Then, of course, I would release them, and they would slump over dead from my powerful and treacherous hug of sarcasm. And all would be well in the world.

Once again, I have read every book in my house. This is slightly problematic, because it means that I have nothing to read. Alas. I think I shall reread some Dumas, just to amuse myself. We're supposed to be reading Pudden'head Wilson for english, but I'm already practically finished with it and I suppose I shouldn't get too far ahead of the class.

Ah, screw it, I'll finish it tonight.

Today our work in french (that being where I am at this very moment) was to check out the Maison Robert website, and see what room we wanted to eat in, and also to peruse the lunch menu. We are going there for french class. Of course, we are going to learn about french culture and to practice speaking french, obviously not to celebrate that we all got into college. Obviously. I love this class so very much.

And though I love it, it is a-ending, and I must drag mypoorlittleself down to art, where I will paint scary, black-skinned mermaids with blank, soulless eyes of death, in protest of the fact that we have to paint mermaids. Bloody stupid assignment.

And thus, I end.

9:36 AM

Sunday, April 27, 2003  
Ah. Another one of those enjoyable stretches of time in which I feel like horribly maiming, if not actually killing, certain people. People in general, yes, but certain ones in particular. The reasons shall remain where they are, which currently is the bottom of some of the danker sections of my warm and lovin' heart. No need to pull them up out into the open. Either you know exactly who you are and why you're bearing the brunt of my anger, or you're a very foolishly optimistic person and you'll probably be the first to go.

Ah yes. I do so love nights like this. This is when I especially like reading JTHM comics. At all other times I just like them for the artwork and the humor, but at times like these I enjoy them for their actual content, which should scare the lord-worshipin' merde out of anyone who's ever read them, and will probably confuse the rest of you poor sods in a sinister sort of way. You pathetically uncultured flange baskets.

In other news.

I saw Spirited Away the other night. Good stuff, good stuff. Lovely animation, lovely strange and inexplicable creatures, lovely Japanese architecture which is much cooler than our dull stuff, just a joy to watch. A culinary feast for the eyes, if your eyes happen to be starving for that sort of thing. Even if you think they're not, it's the sort of movie that, when you watch it, makes you realize that your eyes were, in fact, starving for that sort of thing, and you just hadn't noticed it until that very moment.

Also a charming little story, with charming little characters, about a third of whom have clear motivations. The other two thirds have entirely unclear motives and you're never quite sure if they're good guys or bad guys. I think I got it sorted out by the end, but how they expect little kids to understand it I do not know. I'm also pretty sure that, even with the dubbed-in-english version, there were things I would have understood better if I were Japanese. Nuances of gesture, why certain characters were what they were, that sort of thing. I mean, the radish spirit? Was it a radish for any particular reason? Was this some cultural thing I just didn't get? Was 'radish spirit' an unfortunate mistranslation of something that would have made more sense? Or did Miyazaki just decide that a radish was a cool/amusing sort of thing to have that particular spirit represent?

I know not.

But in the final estimation, a very good movie. I liked. Multiple paws up for this one. Go see it if you haven't already. See it even if you're not a fan of all that Japanimation business. I am very much not a fan, but this is good stuff. Miyazaki is the shining beacon of goodness in a sea of apallingly poorly done cartoons.

If you liked Hats for Clowns and all of the getting-stuck-in-yoour-head that it did, go check out the newest Weebl and Bob animation. I'm probably going to have nightmares about that clown, but you get lots more of that great music, so it's all worth it. Hats. For clowns. La la la la la la laaaaaa. I swear, if 'A Hand Washed Turkey' comes out on a CD, I am purchasing it with all possible rapidity. Screw Newbury Comics, we need a Lovely Lovely Records around here.

Weebl and Bob animations are generally inexplicable and often incomprehensible, but they're just so damn good. Also, Weebl's english is so bad that it makes me happy.

Sigh. Going to have a heck of a time readjusting to school-week time. Here it is, 12:40 in the am, and I'm blogging. Monday back in that building is going to be like Hell, only with slightly worse air quality.

Alas. Off to go watch more Weebl and Bob, and then maybe go to sleep. Or maybe maim people. Or maybe study biology. Maybe all sorts of things.


12:51 AM

Friday, April 25, 2003  
Vacation is drawing to a close. Sniffle. My sadness is unending. I have absolutely no desire to go back to school.

Hum. Lots of stuff has happened that I haven't blogged yet, because I kept going online and then not feeling up to blogging. You have to be in a certain mood in order to blog. Or you have to be bored. Or you have to have homework that you really should be doing but you're not because you're a bad person.

Anywho, a few nights ago Liz and I were just driving around, because we get bored and that is what we do. Before she picked me up, Liz was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up, and she was drinking a cream soda in one of those glass bottles. I guess she looked sufficiently like someone who was drinking beer while driving, because she got pulled over by a cop. Of course she started flipping out and of course the cop quickly realized she was acting in all legality, but ha. I thought it was funny.

Then we went and drove over these insane speed bumps in Beverly. They're enormous. You go over them and the car just soars. Peppito didn't enjoy it much, but we surely did. It was like a carnival ride, only less expensive.

Liz also purchased a Candy Spray. A cream soda Candy Spray. It was extraordinarily horrible. I may not know much, but I do know that cream soda is not supposed to be sour.

Muralling was done, thank cats. It would have been most upsetting to go all vacation without getting anything done. We did make some progress, but of course we're not finished yet. Oh no. That would be too easy, now wouldn't it? Hopefully we made a noticeable difference. I mean, heck, we know we worked on it, but cat only knows if the rest of the school will realize it.

A couple of days ago we went to see The Hours at Copley. It was quite the adventure. Chicken was grotesquely eaten on the T. Liz was pouring gobbets of sauce over hers, and Jason had accidentally ordered the entire bird, so he had massive amounts of fried chicken to work through. Corey binged his like a bulimic person and managed to bolt it down before we got on the T. I had already eaten dinner, because my family loves me and I get fed at home. Mwah ha ha ha ha ha!

Anyways, The Hours was OK. I was kind of disappointed by it. It wasn't a bad movie, per se, it just wasn't much compared to the book. The book was thoroughly glorious. The acting was pretty good all around, and the music was good, and it was sort of neat to see how they tied the 3 stories together in a movie form. But there were some things that pissed me off... too many Ophelia references, too much of a you're-not-a-liberated-woman-unless-you're-a-lesbian vibe going on. The lesbian angle with Virginia was defintely played up more in the movie than it was in the book. I also didn't like the little kid, but I guess that's because his character in the book was mostly revealed through narration, and they couldn't really do that in the movie.

The movie-going experience was also enhanced by the fact that we were not quite the only people in the theater. There were two groups of people in the theater.... us 4, and a lovely couple who sat in front of us. Now, common sense would say, 'If you are in a movie theater with only 4 people in it, and you went to this movie with the intent of expressing your love for one another, you should sit behind the 4 people already there'. Alas, this couple was not inclined to listen to common sense. They sat in front of us, and oh yes, they were expressing their love. Physically. Intensely. During the movie.

We raced out of the theater as soon as the credits came up, because they were, at that point, starting to get very expressive about their mutual love. As soon as we were outside we all burst out laughing. We were somewhat tempted to go back in and startle them in their, um, compromising situation, but we decided to be nice and leave them be. It was hilarious. I mean, really. The theater was practically empty. They definitely could/should have sat behind us, and then they would have avoided becoming a source of amusement.

But hey, maybe they enjoyed that sort of thing. Who are we to judge?

So on the way home, we were priviledged to ride in the single cleanest Green Line train I have ever been on. It was gorgeous. It looked like the Red Line. It was a new, specially handicapped accessible one, and it shone with cleanliness. We also saw three girls trying to maneuver an enormous box down the Government Center station stairs. It may have had a dead body in it. Then again, it may not have. On the last leg of the subway trip, a man with several bags sat down next to Corey, took out some sheets of music, and began tapping out an entire symphony with his own self. Feet, head, etc. He was very intensely into it. It was funny.

Then we drove home, and there was singing along with radio going on. It was very, very late, and the singing had a sort of drunken quality to it. We also went full circle with the Fisherspooner song (which I quite like), because we heard it in the car driving to Wonderland, and we heard it again coming home. Gosh I like circles.

There were mallard ducks in my backyard yesterday, which is weird, because there's no water in my backyard. Ducks don't really look right back there. But there they were.

The rockhopper penguins at the Aquarium are roosting! They showed them on the local news. They made little nests out of rocks, and now they're sitting on their eggs. They looked glorious.


i shall now hop upon some rocks


I hope that everyone had a glorious Passover, and an even more glorious feast of breaded products last night. Mmmm. Pizza. Cheesy bread. Doughy goodness. My life, once again, is complete.

Got shoes to go with the dress. Well, I got two pairs of shoes, and I'm debating between them. Should I go for the fancy sandals, or the cool sneakers? Input is welcome.

That is all. I must trot, my spider plant demands various homages, and I must go pay them.


2:33 PM

Monday, April 21, 2003  
Got me a prom dress. Hoop dee day. At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about anymore. It is very violently red. Other than that it's a normal dress.

Of course now I have to get shoes, which should be a pain in the derrière, since I hate shoe shopping almost as much as I hate dress shopping. I also have to get a bag of some sort, so that I have something to hold the massive amounts of film that I will of course be bringing. The opportunity to take pictures is, of course, the only reason I am going. I figure I should take... oh, say, about the amount of film that they put in military surveillance cameras. That ought to keep me for the night.

Anyways, this means I have to find some sort of acceptable bag. I wanted to bring my large black shoulderbag thing... you know, the one with all the pins on it. I mentioned this to my mother, who reacted with extreme horror. So I think I'll have to go for something else.

OK, that is enough prom-like discussion. Generally it makes me ill but I just know you were all just dying to hear about it.

Saw Phone Booth last night. It was more or less exactly what I expected it to be. I mean, it obviously wasn't a good movie. But it didn't kill me to watch it. There was a disappointing lack of hotness from Colin. Zut. He also tried to mask his very thick Irish accent, but it kept breaking through at points and he ended up sounding hispanic, which I don't think his character was supposed to be. (very poor sentence construction right there) Bits of the plot were stupid and bits were very, very funny (it was not supposed to be a comedy), but the movie was saved in the end by nothing more than its short running time. If it had been any longer than 80 minutes I think I would have started throwing things at my fellow movie-goers.

Passover is starting to drive me absolutely insane. I WOULD KILL FOR MOZARELLA STICKS RIGHT NOW.

Am I the only one sickened by the fact that Monica Lewinsky is hosting this Mr. Personality show?

Now taking suggestions as to what color I should dye my hair for prom. Bear in mind, red dress. I'm thinking maybe not red hair, because it might be too much red. But I am open to all suggestions. Let me know if you've got an idea.

That's all. Not much happened today.

Restfullness is key.

8:02 PM

Saturday, April 19, 2003  
Wow. Two posts in one day. I haven't done that since... well, not for a long time, in any event.

This will be a short one though, as I only have a few things to say.

Got ice cream, then dragged Jess down to the Audobon sancutuary in Marblehead, after we actually found it, which took some time (well, it's not near the water... and we're on the Neck... so it must be in the middle!). There we saw not one, but two herons! My friend the black crowned night heron was there, and there was also a small heron that a nice lady told us was a little green heron. This guy was much more interesting than the night heron, because the night heron just sat there, whereas this fellow was actually hunting. He was diving in the water to try and catch a fish, and this was COOL. Jess was very good-natured about humoring me in my insanity.

Then I went to see A Mighty Wind with the family. Damn funny movie. Not quite as good as Best in Show, but then, what is? I think this one was about on par with Waiting for Guffman. I wasn't too sure I wanted to see it, because I am not exactly a fan of folk music (reference links in the Music section on the side if you need proof). But you really don't need to like/know anything about folk music in order to enjoy this. A thoroughly amusing film. If you know anything about movies you'll go see every movie that Christopher Guest has ever done, if you haven't already. And you're a fool if you haven't.

Also, when you go see this movie, make sure you look at the sister in the Steinbloom family. If you attend my glorious high school you will undoubtedly see what I saw, which is that she looks a whole lot like Mrs. Oppenheim, the art teacher. Har de har har. I larfed, I did.

If you like Jhonen Vasquez (i.e. if you have good taste and are a smart, funny person), check out NNY's world or Vicious Grin. Yeah. Good stuff. Err... there are probably more sites out there, but them's what I gots. To put it illiterately.

Also! I upped the number of entries you can see on this here blog from 10 to 25, since the archives still aren't working properly and some people who haven't read in a while desire more of the 'back issues'. Those being older blogs. Anywho. I'm working on the archives, I really am, please don't kill me.

The point of telling you this is, with more blogs it is obviously going to take this page longer to load. Not a problem for me, with my magical, fantastical Cable Internet, but it might annoy you poor stone-age dial up kiddies. If this is an Issue (but only if it's an issue with a capital 'I'), then you may email me at thefelineanarchist@yahoo.com, since that is my email address.

Yesh. That is all.

9:31 PM

 
Well. It has certainly been an interesting few days.

I hope that everyone is having a glorious Passover so far! I had two highly entertaining seders, and then I promptly became ill. Damn colds. I am pretty sure that the temperature change is what did it to me. You just can't have an 80 degree day followed by a 30 degree one. It just ain't right and/or proper.

For your viewing pleasure, I mucked with the template and added some more sites to the side. I stuck a couple of new comic sites over there, as well as the Music sites for the Dandy Warhols and Porcupine Tree, and La Tordue. Excellent bands, all. Check 'em out if you know what's good for you.

I also updated the link to nosepilot, one of the greatest animations ever created, because the old link I had up there was no longer connected. So if you haven't seen it yet (and I've been plugging it for years, so you should have already) go see it now. When you click on that link, just hit the link that says 'animation' at the top of the page, and you're golden. And crispy.

So, Passover! For the first night I went to Newton, as dictated by tradition. We called ahead just before we got there, to let them know that we hadn't died in a car crash on the way in or anything like that. When we got there and unsuspectingly walked in the front door, we were met by an overwhelming wave of Michigan-ness. People were wearing University of Michigan tshirts, hats, scarves, and, in one case, boxers. The U. of M. fight song had been downloaded and was playing, and they were all singing along to it. I was very thoroughly congratulated. Pictures were taken (and they had better come out). It was terrifying, yet also absolutely hilarious.

But, of course, being in Michigan next year means that I won't be able to go to this seder! *sniffle* I am most upset. It is always a terribly good time, what with the people and the glorious food and all. Alas.

For the second night I attended the seder at Jess's house, which is also traditional. What was not traditional was that her oven caught fire just before people got there. So we had to cook the potatoes at my house. The annual acting-out-of-the-plagues took place, with Jon flicking the lights for darkness and showering us all with giant rubbery grasshoppers for locusts. The conversations were diverse and interesting, ranging over such topics as impotent yet adulterous dentists, a nice Jewish man in western Mass. who hung his wife's lungs from his mailbox because she overcooked his ziti (think of the poor mailman!), and the severity of the white versus red types of horseradish. This seder will also be sorely missed next year.

Last night the moon was yellow.

Yesterday I went with my mother to the Audobon refuge in Marblehead, in search of the black crowned night heron that was supposed to be there. We almost didn't see him, but then I spotted him. You see, they have this crazy way of standing where they hold their body entirely perpendicular to their legs, in other words, horizontally. And they're mostly white colored with darker parts on their dorsal (upper) side. So he looked just like a log among all the other birch-y sorts of logs there. The only reason I saw him was because he was sort of swaying back and forth in a way that was quite un-log-like. He was cool. It's breeding season, so he had these neat, long, white feather things on his head. You can sort of see them in the picture below, but not really. Anyways, he definitely made my day.


i am full of heron-y goodness


If you are interested in French comics, you can check out Cool French Comics. It is a sort of informational listing thing.

I finished writing my comic book! If it stays the way it is now, it should work out to about 20 pages, which is regular comic book length! Now I've started storyboarding the sucker and deciding on layouts, and then I can draw it! I am so proud of my productivity. Especially when that productivity would be better spent on studying for the AP Biology test.

A morula is a solid ball of cells. The picture of it in our bio book makes it look a little bit like a soccer ball. Hmm. I wonder if it's good for playing soccer with. Are cells bouncy when you kick them?

Last night I couldn't sleep, because I was waiting for the massive amounts of Sudafed I had taken to kick in. So I was singing '99 bottles of beer on the wal'l in my head. Only I was singing it '99 stations of Mir on the wall'. I have absolutely no idea why I was doing this. Sometimes the inner workings of my mind are better left alone.

Time to go git me some ice cream! Happy happy joy joy.

2:17 PM

Monday, April 14, 2003  
Yes-for-your-information I know I'm not updating every day anymore. I know this. But we haven't been online in French much recently, or else we've *gasp* been doing work. I know. Horrors. But I shall endeavor to blog when I may.

I now have the song 'Hats for Clowns' stuck in my head. Probably I will not be able to fall asleep tonight because I will be singing it in my mind. Hat. For clowns. La la la la. La laaaaaa. You can find it at the new Weebl and Bob animation, if you decide to brave the risk of getting it stuck in your head. The animation doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but then, nothing on Weebl and Bob ever does. I'm not sure how long it will take to load on your computer, it loads almost instantaneously on mine.

Mwah ha ha ha ha ha! Feel the evil joy of CABLE INTERNET.

If I ever start using large swaths of song lyrics for my away messages, I want you to kill me. Please. At the very least, give me a few good slaps about the head.

Today in psych we were discussing something or other having to do with people who were motivated by achievement. What this means, I know not. I was wisely using the time to make some fairly involved doodles on the backs of some worksheets. Anywho, we were supposed to have written down the name of someone we thought was motivated by achievement. Naturally I had not done this. I was, in short, not paying attention. So, of course, the teacher calls on me. This only happens, by the way, when I'm not paying attention. If I am paying attention, the teacher ignores me entirely. Don't ask me how it works, I just know that it does.

So. The teacher calls on me, in a sweet yet viciously passive-aggressive voice. "*insert my real name here*, what was the person you wrote down?" Surprising both the teacher and myself, I immediately replied, "Monet. He was intrinsically motivated because he wanted to create art for himself, but he was also extrinsically motivated because he wanted other people to appreciate his art."

The teacher said, "Oh, that was a good one," and moved on. I sort of sat there in shock for a minute. I mean, I wasn't paying attention at all. Not. In. The least. What the heck and tarnation had just come out of my mouth? My brain works in unfathomable ways. If only it would behave like that in math.

Hats. For clowns. La la la la la. La laaaaa.

Just because, here is an arctic fox, one of the cutest critters in the wild that is not a cat.


i am too cute for words


Sleep comes upon me with little arctic fox feet.

10:41 PM

Friday, April 11, 2003  
DANDY WARHOLS! DANDY WARHOLS!! DANDY WARHOLS!!! DANDY WARHOLS!!!!

The Dandy Warhols, that is. Great music. I always think of the band The Jaded Salingers when I think of the Dandy Warhols, 'cause they're being clever in the exact same way. Amusement and good times.

Today I learned about an art movement called Dia. Think very large, very minimalist works. Think Richard Serra. Think Joseph Beuys. Think De Maria. Think Dan Flavin. Think people who make things like Spiral Jetty.


This, by the way, is Spiral Jetty. Think very, very big.


I was surprised and disturbed to see, today in school, a large number of girls in my grade wearing 'Kraft Family Reunion' tshirts. So far as I know, only one of them is actually a Kraft. She appeared to have given the shirts out to her friends. I'm not sure if this was a symbolic sort of thing (my friends are like my family!) or merely asinine sheep-like behavior. I guess that in any event I would have been able to deal with the stupidity, but the shirts were all a heinous, violently pink shade of magenta. The sort of color that makes your eyes hurt. You know. Sort of a cross between this and this, only much brighter.

I was going to say, 'and not backed by orange like you're seeing it on this page', but that is plainly not true. You see, these girls are the sorts who tan themselves into orange oblivion. And I do mean orange. One finds oneself worrying about their obvious future skin cancers, but it's really hard to remain concerned when they're so damned orange. I laugh.

You, of course, should do the same.

We have been watching a movie in bio for the past two days. It is called The Miracle of Life. You can guess what it's about. Anyways, they had all these shots that astounded our class. For instance, the very beginning of the film is about, um, well, it's about what starts life. You know. Makin' babies. So there's a shot at the of the, um, first action leading to fertilization. Only, it was shot from inside. Er. Inside the woman. You do know what I mean.

But we were astounded. How did they get a camera in there? It was a shot from the side, so that you could see everything nice and clearly, but how was the camera there? And how did they get lighting? How?

Later in the film they had video of a fetus. The camera was practically on top of the fetus, and it must have had a pretty strong light, because you were looking at the fetus's head, and suddenly it would bring a hand up and smack at the camera. This happened a number of times. I do wonder if that much light in the womb is detrimental to fetal health, because this little fellow sure didn't seem to be enjoying it.

Then they showed a birth.

Our bio teacher told us some birth horror stories the other day, including one about a friend of hers who gave birth and then realized that some of her intestines were coming out. That, if nothing else, was enough to traumatize me for life. I mean, just imagine it. Your intestines are coming out. Oh holy cats. Ugck. Yet another reason to never, ever, EVER have children.

Also, pregnancy is parasitism. Think about it. You've got this little creature inside you. It's growing fat off of your nutrients and it takes your blood for its own nefarious uses. It isn't even a beneficial parasite, because what does it do to you? It makes you fat, and moody, and violently ill. Then it causes you infinite amounts of pain so that it can emerge from your body. Parasitism! It's like Alien, only worse, because this is an accepted sort of thing. Now, if the little buggers tore out of your stomach when they were ready to be born, maybe more people would recognize it for what it is.

I am going to go now, having given you all sorts of lovely things to think about.

7:13 PM

Tuesday, April 08, 2003  
Back in school. Phase two of French V is underway, and we're attempting to make a webpage. Lord only knows. We're fairly inept as webmasters. We haven't the slightest idea of what to do to get a webhost, and we only have the vaguest idea of what we're putting on this turkey. The discussion of possibilities is limited to Madame, who is scouring the web and muttering to herself, presumably in the hopes that one of us will actually be listening/searching for webhosts/doing anything french. This, of course, gives me time to blog.

We debated in psychology yesterday. Our topic was "Does Race Affect Intelligence?". I was on the side saying that it did. We were in the library researching it for a couple of days beforehand, and there are some crazy sites that you will hit if you type in that question as a search. There are a lot of very angry, white supremacist types out there. Yes indeed.

Anyways, we debated, and I got a little too violently into it, as is my wont. I can't help it. I like to do debate when I have facts I can hurl at people to crush their puny, inferior arguements. Hence my enjoyment of Mock Trial. Also, hence my inability to argue articulately when I haven't thought about it beforehand. Such is my nature.

Yes, so, debate, crushing remarks made by my side, etc. etc. One of the arguements brought up by my side (NOT, though, by me) was that, um, men of African American descent had, um, larger genitalia, and because of this they had more kids, and this somehow led to them being, um, less intelligent. I do not support/condone/agree with this idea. I did not create/announce this idea. It wasn't mine. I leave it to Jaime, who brought it up. Gutsy, yet ill-advised.

I didn't join in the arguement for my side when this came up. I just sat there with my head in my hands. There were a couple of other people on my side who tried to argue it, but when someone asked Jaime where her proof of this singular fact was, she said something to the effect of, "Well, I don't have scientific proof... I just know. Just trust me that I know." Hilarity, as you can imagine, ensued. Everyone was laughing very very loudly, except for Noah, who tried to bring up some facts about condoms in a brave attempt at counterpoint, and Dave, who appeared to completely lose control and ducked behind his desk.

Anyways, I think we won, but that's just because we were the more glorious team. Obviously.

We got 200/200 on the Book of Time! It shot my term grade up 5 whole points! Our teacher thinks it should be published. So, of course, I will be publishing it online, where you may all view this triumph of persistence. The illustrations are quite good. Not the ones I did, those aren't any great shakes, but the ones Corey did are most glorious. And, of course, you can thank Kate and Jess for the reams of information that will be entering your mind, should you choose to read it. I'll give you the link as soon as I finish it, which should be sometime this week, if the world is kind to me.

In other news, I finally got a good idea for a comic book storyline that maybe won't completely suck! It has to do with tardigrades, but if you steal my idea I'll track you down and kill you. Cat knows I've been long enough without a good story idea. I deserve this one.


i am tardigrade


I also deserve a snow day, but you don't see me getting that, now do you? It is April 8, and there are a couple of inches of snow on the ground. Snow! April! But the least they could do is give us a snow day. We've gone all year without one, and just when we had resigned ourselves to that fact, they go and get our hopes up again with news of more snow. Then they don't give us a snow day. The weather gods and the superintendent are in collusion.

Our psych teacher's apartment got broken into a few days ago. Her car has also been broken into twice this year. Boston is such a loverly city, non?

Ha, joking. I really like Boston. But I'm not sure why she keeps on getting robbed. Maybe it has to do with pheremones. They're the reasoning behind all previously unexplained behavior.

Got the second volume of the Sherlock Holmes anthology! Egads, that stuff is addictive. Massively good. So glorious. The masses of yore are once again vindicated in their good taste (the first vindication, of course, being Dumas. He's great escapist literature).

If you love someone, set them free.
If they come home, set them on fire. --George Carlin

Maddie's birthday was yesterday. Happy birthday Maddie! Sarah's birthday is today. Happy birthday Sarah!

Must hasten away, the class, it is a-ending.

11:17 AM

Saturday, April 05, 2003  
Well. Here I am. It is around 1 am on Saturday, and lo! I am awake. Not really sure why. But I am.

Normally I would not be allowed on the computer this late (or early), since my typing is violent and loud. But brother and father are at their annual fantasy baseball league draft, which means they won't be home until around 3. So I can be on the computer with impunity. Even at this unnatural hour.

In other news, AOL finally terminated our service, which for some reason also terminated my AIM screenname. I am most unhappy about that. I had had that name since 7th grade, and I had no intention of changing it. But necessity has thrust change upon me.

Damn you, necessity. DAMN YOU!!!

Why hello there, Mr. Whiskars.

Anywho, I got 3, count 'em, 3 Jhonen Vasquez comics. They are glorious beyond glory. Wonderful beyond wonder. Awesome beyond awe. They are hilarious. And well drawn. I am addicted. I need more of them.

I. NEED. MORE. SQUEE/JOHNNY THE HOMICIDAL MANIAC/ANYTHING ELSE BY MR. VASQUEZ.

My friend Liz is very, very ill. She has missed... err, I think it's 4 days of school this week. I hope that she feels better soon. School has been much less.... interesting without Liz around.

Ha HA! Mock Trial skillz YO! Mock Trial is like a god, only without the whole false idols sort of thing going on.

I am conversing on my new AIM screenname *insert wrathful sort of twitch here*. I tend towards loquaciousness when it's this late/early. Me use big word in IM. Me use complex sentence structure. My thoughts are hypercompressed into a package of glorious light!

Actually, I'm surprised that there are people online at all right now. There are 6. Well, only 2 don't have away messages on, but you know. 6! 1:15 am! That's a lot of people. 7, if you count me, which you should. Of course.

I am going to the University of Michigan!!!!

I have returned from washing my so-filthy teeth. I have millions of them, so it took me a little bit., you see. HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THE NUMBER OF TEETH I HAVE?!?!!

Socializing, it seems, can kill you.

Kids from the suburbs aren't backwater! They're just... distilled.

OK, I'm essentially rewriting a conversation I'm having right now, I need to stop it and write an actual blog.

So! We watched the movie Secretary today. It wasn't quite as disturbing as I had been worried it would be. I sort of felt at bits that I should be more disturbed than I actually was. Probably because a) it was a pretty good crowd to be watching that sort of thing with, b) it's been a damn long week and nothing is entering my brain as it should at this point, and c) I think I got the reviews I read of the Secretary mixed up in my mind with a review I read of The Piano Teacher, which I think was supposed to be a lot more disturbing.

Them's my reasons, they is. In any event, I ended up enjoying the movie. I thought the guy in it was kind of cute, and it was a funny movie, and oh I don't know, I thought it was well done and while I can write insanity this late/early, I can't analyze a movie. I just liked it.

2:00 am! 2:00 am! Here is my 2 am song:

It is two AM.
It is two am.
I am on AIM.
I am talking to someones.
I am asking if he knows anywhere boutique-y.
He doesn't really.
Parties are a good way to jumpstart your weekend.
I saw a movie tonight. It wasn't a party.
I wear randomness as a pendant.
Filtered water tastes less metallic.
That is because there is less blood in the water.
Slimy little gits!
Scare Tactics is not a good show.
And Ms. Doherty needs to put a shirt on.
No! NOOO!!! I don't want to eat the toasty souls of the damned!
I thought we were having Stove Top? I want none of this soul toast.
What is Doink? I mean, is it a noun? A verb?
Or some crazy kind of onomatopeia.
(spelling?)
I am missing my Farscape.
I am aching in my heart for Farscape.
You and your freakish gaming appliances.
Why was Vinnin Square on fire tonight? O, why?
2:10 AM!
Still on AIM.
2:10 am!

That was my 2 am song. I hope that you liked it. You should sing it, if you can. That makes it better.

I did it again, though. I used bits of conversation that I am having right now. I am a bad person. Vury vury bad. I need to write and not merely... transcribe. I also tossed a little Jhonen in there, just because it is so damn good.

So, I reluctantly abandoned my nefarious plot. Alas.

I am going to go, I don't know, do something slightly less insane. Yes. That's it. Sanity! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAGGGGFISH!

Hagfish, I say!

2:26 AM

Thursday, April 03, 2003  
Returned I am.

I mucked about with the template, hopefully everything worked in there. I added a number of new sites for your viewing pleasure. Mystical Ball is now up on permanent link, because it is just so unbelievable.

I added a couple new online comics. One is the Grimbles, a very elaborately and well-drawn comic, but it seems to be updated only sporadically. The other is Return to Sender, which has glorious artwork and is severely addicting. I highly suggest reading it through from the start. It appears to be on hiatus right now, but hopefully updates will return sometime in the foreseeable future.

I also posted up Borderwalker, which is a sort of online consortium of comics that is independent of the big online comic sites. This is good, because the only other big online comic group I've found so far is made up almost exclusively of comics that make jokes about 'gaming'. They may very well be funny jokes, but they are wasted on me. Anywho, Borderwalker is pretty good stuff, and the guy who draws Backdraft used to be my comic book teacher some 10 million years ago, which tickles my fancy to no end.

Last night my brother was complaining loudly about how his cell phone wouldn't recharge. He started loudly ranting about cheap phones and lousy batteries and worthless electric sockets and faulty rechargers. The phone was examined, and it was determined that he had plugged the recharging unit into the headphones jack. The recharger was removed and plugged into the proper jack, and the phone proceeded to charge normally. My brother is both genius and even-tempered.

I am going to go see if I can't play some TextTwist. It looks.. fascinating. Hopefully the template changes will take effect.

8:48 AM

Tuesday, April 01, 2003  
Joyeux

Poisson d'Avril!


Have a good one!


1:33 PM

 
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