"Mommy, where is the water going?"

"It's coming back even faster. Please run."

Here's how you can make a donation to quake relief:

Canadian Red Cross www.redcross.ca, or 1-800-418-1111 or contact local Red Cross office.

World Vision www.worldvision.ca or 1-800-268-5528.

UNICEF Canada www.unicef.ca, or 1-877-955-3111.

Oxfam Canada www.oxfam.ca, or 1-800-GO-OXFAM

Cdn. Tamil Congress at 416-751-8777

Cdn. Relief Organization for Peace in Sri Lanka at 416-429-2822

All Toronto police stations

courtesy of the Toronto Star

an excerpt from my diary journal sailor's log PLOG (paper blog)

dear diary PLOG,
i gotta get used to your new name. no more diary, no more diary, no more diary.
PLOG PLOG PLOG... mmm... blending. like smokefog smog. or taximetercabriolet taxicab taxi.
today was beautiful, and by beautiful i mean that she talked to me, for like, more than 4 minutes. that's got to be a record. and a voice in my head, sounding a lot like pierre macguire, echoed that sentiment. happy happy happy! and she was doing this casual, playful shouldercheck thing while we were walking, so we slowly pendulated down the sidewalk. it was a bit cold outside so i really wanted to put my arm around her and tell her then and there, but that might've ruined the moment. or open up the choir in my head that's been waiting since grade three for that moment. slowly, like a zamboni. the ground was too icy to kneel anyway.

SCRUBS: 3.11 "My Clean Break"

Turk: So, did you break up with her?

J.D.: I was going to last night, but then I looked in her eyes, and I realized how rare it is to meet someone who's actually willing to have sex with me.

Carla: How did you have sex with the woman you're about to break up with?

J.D.: Okay, you know how the, uh, couch in the living room has those high arms...?

Turk: Babe, you gotta understand, a guy will sleep with any woman he finds attractive, no matter how he feels about her. If Tyra Banks drove her car over my mom and then offered to have sex with me? I'd have to dial 9-1-1 in the nude because my pants would already be off!

Carla: That's sweet! While your mother lays there dying!

Turk: [to J.D.] Tell her.

J.D.: His mom doesn't die. Tyra uses her connections in the supermodel world to get government scientists to put Turk's mom's brain into Heidi Klum's body. She falls in love with me, we all move in together.

Turk: It'd be awkward at first, but I'd make it work.... 'Cause I love my mom.

J.D.: Mm, and I would love her, too.

Carla: [going back to work] New low.

tis the season...

it's just about that time of year again.
more than a few people are just kicking back and relaxing from exams,
or still studying furiously to finish up the last one or two.
probably feeling a little bit lonely because everyone else is together.
this will cheer you up, knowing that someone out there is much worse off.

(right-click, save as)
turn it up

-cheers

people think that i eat too many chocolate bars, or that i don't wash my face...

here are a few things i like with chocolate:
- milk. milk chocolate doesn't really make any difference to me. chocolate milk, however, is probably what Jesus would've turned that bath water at the marriage at Cana into, had it been invented yet.
- peanut butter. thank you reese's.
- nutella. ferrero roche knows where its at.
- nuts. white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. 'nuff said.
- caramel. the caramilk bar secret is not very well protected.
- nougat. i don't really know what nougat is but it sounds dirrty.
- marshmallow. sugar + chocolate = can't be wrong.
- pastry and other bakery store goods. all pastry and other bakery store goods goodness is multiplied 10 billion-fold by a drizzle of chocolate syrup.
- mint. york peppermint patties! girl guides' chocolate mint thins! oh baby. i wish i had a sister so that ggcmts would come my way more often than door-to-door. my only way in now is to date a girl guide. i think it's worth it.

Attack of the Clones

Lindsay Lohan, Jojo, Shannon Lucio (aka Lindsay Gardner, The O.C.)

who's mother is Marcia Cross (aka Bree Van De Kamp, Desperate Housewives)

The Hunting of the Snark

Fit the Second: The Bellman's Speech

"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.

"Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meager and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavor of Will-o-the-wisp.

"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
And dines on the following day.

"The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.

"The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes --
A sentiment open to doubt.

"The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
And those that have whiskers, and scratch.

"For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums -- " The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away."

a Prophet named Desire

Born around 570 into the Hashimite group of the Quraysh tribe, little Muhammad was raised as an orphan by his grandfather, Abd al-Muttalib. He was soon passed on to his uncle, Abu Talib upon his grandfather's death, and worked the caravan routes. As a young man, he was hired by - and a few years later, marries - a rich widow, Khadijah, to work in her caravans. The routes took him to many cities and afforded him great knowledge of the Arab world. But what he saw was abhorrent to him, as a hanif. Idolatry ran rampant, not only in the foreign towns, but at home as well. Muhammad sought sanctuary from the graven images in the caves of Mount Hira during Ramadan.

On one such retreat, while deep in his meditations, Muhammad felt strong hands clasp around him, binding him fast.
"Recite!" came the trumpeting voice.
Light poured through his closed eyelids, but he dared not open them for fear of blindness.
"I cannot read!" Muhammad stammered.
"Recite, in the name of the Lord who created, created man from a blood clot. Recite, for your Lord is most magnanimous - who taught by the pen, taught man what he did not know." (Qur'an 96:1-5)

Deeply afraid, Muhammad breaks free and flees into the night. As he wanders the Meccan hills, the sky lights up and a throne is emblazoned across the horizon. Upon it sits a heavenly being bearing a familiar voice.
"O Muhammad, I am Jibril (Gabriel), and you are the Messenger of God!"
Needless to say, Muhammad runs home to his wife.

This happens several more times, each time his wife consoles and reassures him that Jibril is no evil spirit, rather an emissary of God. Muhammad becomes fully convinced of this after recounting these events to Khadijah's cousin, Waraqah b. Nawfal, a fellow hanif, albeit Christian. He confirmed that Muhammad was the last Nabi, indeed the fabled Seal of the Prophets. With new resolve Muhammad seeks out Jibril in the cave where it all started.

Finding it cumbersome to relay the revelations revealed to him in the mountain by Jibril to scribes back home, Muhammad is accompanied by a retinue of scribes and scrolls, ready and waiting to transcribe the words he will recite. This was much more convenient as the rotation of scribes brought food and other good things. Thus the Qur'an was realized.

In the city of Mecca, the centre of Arabian trade and religion, Muhammad preached the One God, but was met with reluctance to change their ways of life.
"We found our fathers following a custom, and we shall follow in their footsteps." (Q. 40:22)
This new faith was not very marketable as there were no idols to sell and he was not heeded.

Among those that listened were his wife, his friend Abu Bakr and his freed slave Zayd b. Harithah. Word spread throughout the slaves and poor and a community began to form. Their moral uprightness and piety attracted the likes of Umar al-Khattab and Uthman b. Affan, prestigious men of wealth.

However, Muhammad and his followers did not have tribal protections, especially not following the deaths of his wife and uncle, Abu Talib, and were persecuted. Among his persecutors was his uncle, Abu Lahab. Homeless and under threat, Muhammad sought protection from neighbouring tribes, but to no avail.

In 622, Muhammad was invited to Yathrib, 400 km north of Mecca, to arbitrate between two feuding tribes (likely a standoff on contract details). He set off on his hijrah, his journey. So welcoming was the city of Muhammad and his followers that it was renamed Madinah. Built upon a desert oasis, Madinah was home to the Aws and the Khazraj (the two feuding factions) and a large Jewish community. Under Muhammad, Madinah flourished as a Muslim theocracy, with the Jews living with full religious freedom and equality.

he has always depended on the kindness of strangers.

heartbroken

it is over.
i will hurt for awhile.

fine.

fleeting glances and happenstances

one time, i saw this panda and it was sitting, and eating, and it hit another panda in the head with a bamboo shoot by accident. that panda got so mad, with glaring and paw wavings, he became unbalanced and rolled down the hill. that panda got so much madder that he put on a hat and had tea with a bunny rabbit. except that the cups were empty. the cups are always empty in the forest where no tea leaves grow. milk is rare, painstakingly farmed from squirrels. the appropriate pandas themselves are flappy and unproductive in mammal juice due to their diet (bamboo and empty cups of tea) and lack of pregnancies. it seems to be a lot of work to impregnate a panda for just a spot of milk. whereas squirrels are almost always on tap. just hard to catch and even harder to coax milk out of their mammaries. one must have the jeweler's eye for detail and the nimble dexterity of the professional nostril miner. sadly, the pandas are a rarity in these times and days. the empty cups have taken their toll on the sadly misguided panda. this is not a metaphor.

John Morgan (1930-2004)

John Morgan, who played the dim-witted Mike from Canmore on CBC's The Royal Canadian Air Farce, was remembered Tuesday as "eccentric, talented, prolific and funny."

Morgan died Monday of a suspected heart attack at his home in Toronto...

later mike. you can be with norm now. sit, norm.

my.

"my, what a strong grip you have."
"the better to ignore the pain of the Baby i'm trying to birth," she winced.
"you're doing just fine. just breathe."
"no, i think it'll be more comfortable if i just hold my breath."
"labour has made you sardonic."
"and all these people looking between my legs has made you jealous."

Of course her speech was punctuated with contractions and various huffings and puffings, and his was hushed and what he took to be soothing, but it would not do to transcribe it so. As far as birthing rooms go, this one was spartan. White dominated every angle, the lights yellow in comparison. Apparently it helps the mother-to-be focus her efforts, not that her vision isn't already blurred with tears and perspiration. speaking of which, he mopped her face with a sodden handkerchief.

"we have towels for that, sir," piped a Helpful Nurse.
"oh, it's all right. they'd probably be more useful for the mess on the floor."
she shrugged and continued her work arranging and rearranging the tools of her trade. the doctor, meanwhile, whispered coaxings to the unborn baby, urging him or her to come out and play.

"breach!"
"told you those towels would come in handy." she was too busy to reply.
"placenta. tugging time, boys and girls."
"darling, our Doctor seems to be a bit of a quack."
"keep pushing, baby. and you too, Baby."
through the pain, she beamed at him. he gave her a quick kiss before moving over for a better view. with the placenta now dangling uncomfortably, cradled by Helpful Nurse's outstretched gloved hand, he found good reason to go back to the kissing.

"the Baby should be coming out feet first now. what say you, Ultrasonic Nurse?"
Ultrasonic Nurse nodded her agreement and continued focusing the sounding pad. the Doctor's view of the screen was plenty clear.

Ominous beeping pierced the cheerful labour banter.
"Doc, we've lost the pulse!"
"now is not a good time!"
"we should induce."
"she's too close for it to have any effect. it's up to her."

tuning it all out, he prayed for deliverance and delivery.

- - -

it was raining. pathetic fallacy, he mused, the very heavens weep for us. turning back to the clipboard in hand he filled out the necessary paperwork, the bills, the request for the body. the family and friends had all, thankfully, been ushered out politely by the ward's nurses. there was only so much condolance one could take.

he trudged back to her room and crawled under the covers. she was awake. tears sprung anew, but out of courtesy they sobbed quietly to each other until exhaustion overtook their grief and whisked them off to sleep. but not before he wiped her nose.

- - -

sleep was but temporary escape, though still preferable to being awake, which was a rather rotten feeling. the sun shone brightly, daring us to be happy. fat chance, Gas Ball. as he rubbed the crust from his eyes he found his wife awake, ceiling-gazing, quite possibly counting the holes in the tiles.

"12 403."
"i got 12 437. good morning." she continued to stare at the ceiling.
"its not your fault."
"i know."
"want to get out of here?"
"yeah."
"home?"
"not yet."

- - -

parking, they climbed on top of the hood, side by side, just like the good old days.

"just like the good old days." he echoed his thoughts. her only response was to curl up closer.

the leaves had just turned and were beginning to drop. the wind nipped but the heat of the engine warmed them from below. cirrus clouds wisped the secret messages of the winds in the sky as the sun warmed them from above. they were at a favourite Kodak Moment spot, a little parkette overlooking the valley and the opposite face. there the trees waved trichromatically, deciduous reds and olds, coniferous greens. it was there they had their first date. it was there he proposed. it was where they went to escape to think, to talk. it was where they went to celebrate the good stuff, and deal with the hard stuff.

"it was a boy."
"i suppose we ought to name him then. i don't think 'the Baby' really holds much water with kids these days."
"did you have something in mind?"
"not really. just whatever fit the moment."
"how about 'Not Fair'?" he pouted.
"you're pouting."
"a great male model was lost the day i picked up those books." that elicited a smirk, the first emotion she'd shown other than sorrow. they had met as he stooped to help her pick up her texts.
"not lost. just monopolized."
"selfish, selfish, selfish," he chided.
"is it selfish of me to want our Baby back?"
"no. we're allowed to covet God's possessions."
"it hurts."
"a lot. i love you."
"that helps."
he kissed her forehead and they spent the rest of the morning in silence.

- - -

Shadows are falling, and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for a while
If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for a while
When you get up in the morning, and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for a while
There's a train leaving nightly, called when all is said and done
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heat for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while

Hold me in your thoughts
Take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next you

Engine drivers headed north to pleasant street
Keep me in your heart for a while
These wheels keep turning but they're running out of steam
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while
Keep me in your heart for a while

somewhere only we know - keane

i walked across an empty land
i knew knew the pathway like the back of my hand
i felt the earth beneath my feet
sat by the river and it made me complete

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

i came across a fallen tree
i felt the branches of it looking at me
is this the place we used to love?
is this the place i've been dreaming of?

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

and if you have a minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go somewhere only we know,
somewhere only we know...

oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
i'm getting old and i need something to rely on
so tell me when you're going to let me in
i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

and if you havea minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go
so why don't we go...
this can't be the end of everything
so why don't we go
somewhere only we know
somewhere only we know
somewhere only we know...

now you can be cynical too

happy movie
it's so happy!

bunny music video
piano bunny rocks!

its so simple...

The Curse of the Asian Man

hee. the asian man is bitter, but not, apparently, without reason.

The Truth About Asian Women

gee, i sure hope someone finds this offensive.

gumption

"Cee forty-three! Ayche sixty-six! En twelve, oh twelve! Ess two - Hike!"
The characteristic crush of bodies following the snap brought a cheer to the crowd. It was the opening drive of the season opener and the Bison were doing it in style.
The quarterback, Tom Orwell, biochem major, had a bit of a wry wit and wasn't afraid to use it. He liked to name his plays in obscure fashion, drawing on his extensive background in biochemistry.
He slipped into the pocket, the backs were holding the defensive line to the outside. He caught the eye of 14, the left wide-receiver, flitting between two greens on the crossover. He notched his arm back and let it fly. Stewart snagged the ball out of the air and took off, his man still trying to catch up after getting lost in the congestion. The rest of the greens converged on the ball carrier, moths to a flame, and in one slick motion, he flipped it off to 74, Garret, who was streaking to the left flag in the opposite direction, executing a perfect 'oxytocin' pattern.

"Hey, did you hear? Yasser Arafat died this morning."
"No way! What does that mean for Middle Eastern peace?"
"It will probably open the door for more Israeli-Palestinian peace ta-"
"Hey, I'm trying to watch the game here."

unencumbered

how to say 'i love you' in a hopelessly romantic schoolyard crush way: 'as i gazed upon you from afar... blah blah blah... i fell truly, madly, deeply... blah blah blah... enamoured by your beauty... blah blah blah... like the petals of the lily/the pedals of my bike... cannot live without you... something something... dream about watching you sleep... blah blah blah blah blah i love you blah blah blah blah blah...'

how to say 'i love you' just like in the movies: 'you complete me.'

how to say 'i love you' so that she'll marry you: sparkle, sparkle.

how to say 'i love you' in a fraternal/sororal way: 'you're like a brother/sister to me, but not, like, actual brother/sister, but the way black people mean it. i just think it's more meaningful that way.'

how to say 'i love you' in a cousinly way: 'yor so purdy, hyuck.'

how to say 'i love you' in a platonic way: 'i love you (platonically).'

mild disenchantment

Alex: "Male lions are the only cats to have these and they turn darker as they grow older."
Ken: "What are... whiskers?"

National Guard Fighter Jet Strafes School

Click title.

i'm sure we've all thought about doing something destructive to a school at one point or another, usually coinciding with evaluation oppurtunities. accidental as this incident may be, it was a bit surprising. you have to be a supremely incompentent pilot to strafe a school, even at night. there are several telltale signs that you are no longer flying over a firing range and instead deep in suburbia. rows of light standards, for example. frankly i would've expected more from the largest, most well equipped military power in the world, if it weren't for the ample evidence of US fighter pilot incompetency in Afghanistan.

Also:
Man Tries to Convert Lions

...okay. that's FREAKIN' AWESOME!

pseudo-sonnet of sand

drag a stick through the grains,
trace a pattern in the sand.
a deft twist, a looping whorl,
it all makes sense in the sand.

what if, what if, we could eat
all of this? all this sand?
it's perfect, don't you see?
loaves and cakes all made of sand.

crunchy and healthy it would be
if people could digest sand.
it'll pass on through your duodenum
and scrub you clean, it would, this sand.

squeeze it out in dollops or coils,
looks the same coming out, just like sand.
but covered in mucus and other good stuff
giving it the appearance of stickier sand.

mold it, shape it, roll yourself a ball.
with it you can make a castle of sand.
crenellations and merlons galore!
maybe even a portcullis of sand.

drag a stick 'round yon castle.
dig a deep moat in the sand.
that which was dug out be the food
for widows and kids yearning for sand.

subjugate your sphincter

"Civilization rests on two things," said Hitzig; "the discovery that fermentation produces alcohol, and voluntary ability to inhibit defecation. And I put it to you, where would this splendidly civilized occasion be without both?"
"Fermentation is undoubtedly science," said Gyllenborg; "but voluntary inhibition must be psychology, and if anybody suggests that psychology is a science I shall scream."
"No, no; you are on my ground now," said Stromwell; "inhibition of defecation is in essence a theological matter, and unquestionably one of the effects of the Fall of Man. And that, as everybody now recognizes, means the dawn of personal consciousness, the separation of the individual from the tribe, or mass. Animals have no such power of inhibition, as every stage manager who has to get a horse on and off stage without a mishap will assure you. Animals know themselves but dimly - even more dimly than we, the masters of the world. When Man ate the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge he became aware of himself as something other than a portion of his surroundings, and he dropped his last, carefree turd, as he, with wandering steps and slow, from Eden took his solitary way. After that he had, literally, to mind his step, not to speak of his Ps and Qs."

- Robertson Davies, The Rebel Angels (1981)

go, go gadget-goggles

normally i spend a lot of time with my head up, looking about. movement here, sparkly-something there. and that's fine and dandy. now and then i check up on what's going on under the surface, and truth be told, it's often more interesting, albeit murkier. lately i've spent a little more time observing the underwater life with the help of my goggles, which cuts the murk and blocks annoying particulates from irritating my eyes. things are getting busy.

meowth used thief!

i've been trying for awhile to appropriate a thick club for my marowak with my sticky pawed meowth. the annoying thing is that FireRed/LeafGreen doesn't have pokemon that learn thief naturally available, so i had to waste the TM.
oh, for those unfamiliar with what i'm talking about:
pokemon are allowed to hold one item each. the move 'thief' allows the user to steal the held item of the opposing pokemon if the user is not carrying anything. it also deals some damage (very little really).
some items are rare and can only be found held by wild pokemon. there are two ways to go about taking this item. a) thief and b) capture said pokemon. now i can't be bothered to fill my pc boxes with failed attempts, not to mention that each pokeball costs $200+.
thick clubs are one of those special pokemon-specific items. it DOUBLEs the attack of the CUBONE, or the evolved form MAROWAK, that is holding it. needless to say, that is generally a good thing. thick clubs appear only on a small percentage of wild cubone/marowak. there is also no indicator on the screen to show whether a wild pokemon is holding an item or not. thus it gets tedious. in addition, the only locations i have access to cubones or marowaks have them appear very infrequently.
compounded to this is meowth's pickup ability, allowing it to 'pick up' items while walking around. sometimes if i'm not paying attention and a marowak shows up, i try to switch to meowth only to find her holding an item already. this can be easily rectified by letting meowth evolve into a PERSIAN, who no longer has the pickup ability. but pickup has its uses and i'm too stingy to catch another meowth.

in other news, i caught a chansey (very rare!) in LeafGreen on the first foray into the Safari Zone, with only 1 safari ball (very lucky!). on top of that, it was carrying a LUCKY PUNCH (raises chance for critical hits by chansey)!! pokemon players reading this will curse me liberally for my good fortune. just like they cursed and revered that guy who caught MEWTWO without battling and with just a GREAT BALL or the guy that caught a chansey without trying on the first safari ball carrying a LUCKY EGG (doubles gained experience points)!!!!!!!!.

"Pujols has to be the worst name ever. might as well be named Anus." - Herman, on Albert Pujols' terrible last name.

Superman's Dead

oh why-e-i-e-i-e, is Superman dead?

Click title for the article.

phraseology

today we'll be looking at the phrase "half-assed".

let's start be disassembling the phrase into it's constituent words, courtesy of dictionary.com
half (hf, häf)
n. pl. halves (hvz, hävz)
1. One of two equal parts that together constitute a whole.
2. One part approximately equal to the remaining part.
[Middle English, from Old English healf. See skel- in Indo-European Roots.]


half is a fractional term: in dividing something into two identical portions, each portion is considered a half.

ass (s)
n. pl. ass·es (sz)
1. Any of several hoofed mammals of the genus Equus, resembling and closely related to the horses but having a smaller build and longer ears, and including the domesticated donkey.
2. A vain, self-important, silly, or aggressively stupid person.
[Middle English asse, from Old English assa, perhaps of Celtic origin, ultimately from Latin asinus.]

ass is the general blanket term for a group of animals mainly used in agricultural times as beasts of burden.

coined in the late 20th century, 'half-assed' is usually used to connotate a lack of effort. thus if one were to guage an unsatisfactory performance that fell short of the apparent potential of the performer, one would say, "that was half-assed."

back in said agricultural times, when the ass was a beast of burden, it came to represent effort. from that came this phrase to express that a hypothetical bar of effort, or ass, was only partially filled. now why wasn't the phrase 'part-assed' instead? well, the 'half' half of the phrase was a cheeky reference to the ulterior slang meaning of ass - that being the buttocks, or the glutamus maximus. as you may well know, the buttocks are divided into halves by a muscular fissure so as not to impede the movement of individual legs.

expect to see this phrase evolve in the future to encompass zero-effort performances.
"dude, that was so assless."
"no ass whatsoever."
likewise, for the full-efforted:
"i am impressed. it was very whole-assed."
"wow, total-ass!"
"good job. you were all-assed."
or even, "that was assed!"

MISSING: this tact of mine

a few weeks ago i lost my mouth filter. i don't know where it went.
not as limber as i used to be, i can't even put my foot in my mouth.
my knack for finding the most off-colour, most bohemian, and really
the most insensitive comments are now being vocalized glibly.
enjoy it while it lasts. it will be mostly boring once i find it again.

september

so that was september. the theme was sissy-girly-emo blogging. in case you didn't notice. i'll be back in october with manly stuff. articles on urinal picking strategies (vulcan logic II), avoiding zipper injuries, logistics of 'the man-hug', maybe even another 'hottie of the month' (volunteers?) etc. if you have any requests, comments or questions, feel free to spell it out. if you want to be featured in an article, i'm game for that too. if you like purple sunsets, long walks on the beach, conversations about the meaning of sand, and straw hats with ribbons call (***)***-**** and ask for "cookieshima".

the d-a-i-y-t-e

it was an interesting doorbell, brass, faux-gold embroidery in the usual frilly quadrilateral - an elongated diamond i guess - framing a little white button, grayed with use. probably has a cute little chime to go with it too, greensleeves, or a carol of some sort. four bars of pachabel. beethoven's ninth. or maybe even william tell. that would be ambitious. the English are coming! open your door!

i looked out to the street from the porch, from the steps, finger poised to leave my personal bit of grayness to the button. the coast was clear. the fewer witnesses the better. i looked at the doorbell again. this was supposed to be the easy part.

the flowers were a bit leaky, plastic not as waterproof as advertised, tinfoil perforated. i scanned the vicinity for something with hand drying potential. the brick wall was none too inviting so i opted for a pant leg. it was just water anyway. back to the doorbell.

i gave it a ring, briefly, and what i assumed to be beseechingly. the doorbell tolled as if i had hammered the button with a sheep, bleating its A flat, resonating through the interior. socked footfalls followed and the door clicked, easing open to reveal a stately gentleman of general middle age. he peered at me from behind his glasses with the scrutiny of a teacher, eying suspiciously the apple that was placed on her desk.

"are these for me? you shouldn't have."
"uh, they're for your daughter. sorry." i thought i saw him pout.
"hey, dad, thanks for telling me that my date is here!"

i looked up, and there she was, standing at the top of the stairs. my, what a big dopey grin you have, i berated myself. she took her time coming down the stairs, carefully, gracefully, toes lighting upon each step daintily. falling on your face in front of your date would have been demoralizing. oh yeah, i should probably close my mouth now.

her father helped her into a light denim jacket. one quick kiss and a promise to be back by 11 later, we breezed down the porch steps to the car. i raced to open the door for her only to find it conveniently locked. sheepishly i swung it open and she slid into the seat. hustling to the other side, i clambered into the opposite seat.

"so."
"i saw you investigating our doorbell. do you like it?"
"oh, heh, yeah. great doorbell. i like it very much."
"you're making me jealous."
"how wonderfully cheesy. i hope you're going to do that all night. hey! rules about playful violence: hit only non tender areas. and i get to fight back."
"i like the flowers."
"i bought them myself."
"so where're we going?"
"i thought we could catch an early dinner then hit the park."
"mmmm okay."

---

"i've never had sandwiches for a date before," she said between mouthfuls.
"i've never had a date before."
"you're doing all right for a beginner."
"ouch."
"don't screw it up."
"yes, ma'am."
"i'm not a ma'am!"
"yes. miss-ter?"

we were walking through the park, sandwiches in hand, since neither of us were keen on using utensils. the sun waned in the west and the clouds were splashed in vivid girly colours. the hill we came upon had a prime view of the setting sun and was surprisingly uncluttered with couples. we took to the western slope and settled down for the night to fall.

"so you finally got up the courage to ask me out."
"i hope the wait wasn't too long."
"only a few months."
"how many?"
"three, i think?"
"so you've liked me for three months?"
"no, i waited three months for you to ask me out."
"why didn't you ask then?"
"the guy should make the move. that's your cue to casually put your arm around me."
"how helpful."
"what about, 'i'm cold'?"
"but that would mean getting up from this very comfortable position to take off my jacket."
"well you should have brought a spare jacket for this very situation."
"how about i just pull you closer?"
"that works too."

---

"that was a good sandwich."
"yeah? mine was a little bit dry."
"i had a wonderful evening."
"would you like another?"
"yes, please."
"shall i call?"
"that's your job."
"what's your job then?"
"to look pretty."
"i like your job."
"i'm very good at it, aren't i?"
"yeah, you doll up nice."
"so will you be giving me a goodnight kiss?"
"for someone who thinks that the guy should make all the moves you're rather forward."
"well, i'm not too keen on waiting three months for one."
"i'm out of practice."
"excuses, excuses."

Harry Potter books don't impress women

Single men are being warned to bin their Harry Potter books if they want to attract the opposite sex while on holiday.

The fantasy novels are a big turn-off for girls, warns a new survey by publishers Penguin, who say Potter and The Lord Of The Rings books are the worst reads to pack in your suitcase this summer reports the Daily Star.

If men want to impress ladies on the beach, then Nick Hornby or Emily Bronte are the best bets.

Sex and relationship expert Tracey Cox said: "On a beach, with so little on, a book can tell you far more about someone than their choice of swimming trunks or a beach towel.

"Pick a classic and woman will swoon at your sensitive nature."

shoot. better not tell anyone about my cho chang shrine and crush on emma watson.

the circle of life

so the black papermate pen that i found just before my astronomy midterm last year finally ran out of ink. i feel as if i've lost a dear friend. it gave its lifeblood to further my foray into Academia. mr. pen, i salute you.

in other news, it's been a while since linwood barclay made me laugh. but he did today.

It's time once again for our regular feature that has never run before and probably never will again, Keeping Safe! This is the advice column that covers everything from smoke detectors to air bags. If it's about your personal security, you can be sure we'll cover it here!

Let's go straight to today's letter:

Dear Keeping Safe!: I like to be prepared for just about every eventuality, although I realize some things, like when a piano may fall on you, are unpredictable. But I've come to believe that my latest source of anxiety is a very real concern. What can I do if Britney Spears tries to marry me? She seems like a nice enough person and all, and her music is okay if you like that kind of thing, but I do not want to marry her.

Larry in Wisconsin

Dear Larry: Your fear is not as unusual, or farfetched, as you might think. Many men, and even some women, understand that it is in the realm of possibility that they may be stopped at random by the pop singer, and forced to marry her. Britney has already been married twice this year, and divorced once, and given that there is no official record of her most recent marriage despite the photos in People, she may not actually be married at all. She could strike again at any moment.

There are a number of things you can do if you encounter Britney Spears and she indicates to you that she would like to become your bride:

1. First of all, do not look upon her for too long. She is not without her charms. You may find yourself succumbing to her siren screech, even against your best judgment. Look away as much as possible.

2. Turn and run. This is not, we must warn you, a 100 per cent successful strategy. Just as a bird will sometimes feign a broken wing to outwit predators, Britney has been known to fake leg injuries to get out of concert dates. She may not look as though she can run quickly, but it is a ruse. Still, give it a shot. Run in a zig-zag, serpentine pattern. If Britney is wearing spike heels, she'll have difficulty with the sharp cornering, and may tip over. Try to run past poles (street lamps, parking meters). Britney may become distracted, and wrap herself around one.

3. If you cannot outrun Britney, you can attempt to be firm. Just say no. You have the right to decline. Just because Britney wants to marry you does not give her the right to do so.

4. We recognize that simply saying no may not be enough to dissuade Britney from pursuing her objective. One thing you can try is frightening her. You might think that nothing can scare Britney, but if you can ward off a bear by banging two rocks together (or so we've heard, but if you meet a bear, and this doesn't work, hey, don't come complaining to us), certain sounds or phrases may make Britney back down.

Chief among them is something we call the "current events quiz."

Let's say Britney has you cornered in an alleyway, cellphone in hand, talking to a caterer about organizing the big day.

You say, "Britney, I'll marry you, but only if you can tell me the name of the Democratic presidential candidate seeking to defeat President Bush."

After Britney says "President Who?" you may feel in a sporting mood, and decide to offer her a multiple choice response.

"Is it a) Carrie Moss, b) John Kerry, c) Stephen King's Carrie, or d) The Carry On comedy troupe?" If she gets lucky, ask her to spell "Falluja."

5. Shout: "No pre-nup!"

If all these fail, well, we're sure you and Britney will be very happy together. And be sure to replace your smoke detector batteries every year.

Pardon my language, but I'm a happy camper!

"I want to have a baby."
"Excuse me?"
"I want to have a baby."
"Yeah, I heard the first time, but you're standing in front of the game."
She plopped down on the couch and threw her legs over the arm, leaning back against him, draping his arm about her shoulders like some dead animal.
"So what do you think?"
"They've got line one out, but we have last change, so we'll probably match the checking line against them."
"About the baby!"
"Oh, yeah. Sure. Knock yourself out."
She sighed, conceding defeat. So this is why the birth rate is so low - hockey before procreation. Perhaps I can ply him with food and drink? she thought. She eyed the chips all over the coffee table, floating, sogging in spilled cola. He looked well plied already.
"What are you thinking?"
"I already told you, I want a baby."
"Boy or girl?"
"Girl, of course."
He winced.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, tell me. What's wrong with girls?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. Girls are great for the first 9 years."
"Oh? Then what?"
"Uh... Then the estro- oh, hey, commercial's over."
She was starting to get annoyed. No, she should be fully annoyed by now. Can't fault him really, he is in the middle of a hockey game. But this is important! Clock's a tickin'. She didn't feel like a spring chicken anymore. Come to think of it, she never has.

---

"Sanderson is coming up the left wing now. Dumps it in deep. Vochenkov picks it up behind the net, centering pa-"
"I want to have a baby."
"Excuse me?" He gestured towards the television set, neck craning to see around her.
"-and the low slapper hits a leg in front-"
"I want to have a baby."
"Yeah, I heard the first time, but you're standing in front of the game."
"-puck's loose in the blue ice! Darington pounces on it for the whistle."
"So what do you think?"
"They've got line one out, but we have last change, so we'll probably match the checking line against them."
"About the baby!"
"Oh, yeah. Sure. Knock yourself out."
"Rolfsson wins the draw- there goes the whistle."
"Now, what a way to kill a scoring chance."
"Too many men on the ice."
"Sloppy line changes lead to foul ups."
"Yep, here they are, one - two - three - four - five - six, and the goalie is still in the net."
"You're watching Hockey Night in Canada on CBC."

"What are you thinking?"
"I already told you, I want a baby."
"Boy or girl?"
"Girl, of course."
He winced. Make-up - 10 o'clock curfew arguments - $300 prom dresses - boys - yikes. He remembered what it was like to be a boy. Boys are bad. Boys caused the dads of girls to worry. No thank you.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, tell me. What's wrong with girls?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. Girls are great for the first 9 years."
"Oh? Then what?"
"Uh... Then the estro- oh, hey, commercial's over." Phew. Note to self, honesty clearly not the best policy.
"Face off to the left of the goalie. Stevens wins the draw."
Boy, I hope she wants to try to make a baby tonight.

"Sometimes there would be couples, arm in arm - laughing, happy, amorous. Victims of an enormous fraud, and at the same time its perpetrators, or so I felt. I stared at them with rancour." - M. Atwood, the Blind Assassin

manliness...

paraphrased from memory...
carl - how come you never talk about girls?
herm - meh. nothing to say?
carl - the only thing i've heard you say was something like dark magician girl is sexy.
herm - that's about right.

run - snow patrol

i'll sing it one last time for you
then we really have to go
you've been the only thing that's right
in all i've done

and i can barely look at you
but every single time i do
i know we'll make it anywhere
away from here

light up light up
as if you have a choice
even if you cannot hear my voice
i'll be right beside you dear

louder louder
and we'll run for our lives
i can hardly speak i understand
why you can't raise your voice to say

to think i might not see those eyes
makes it so hard not to cry
and as we say our long goodbyes
i nearly do

light up light up
as if you have a choice
even if you cannot hear my voice
i'll be right beside you dear

louder louder
and we'll run for our lives
i can hardly speak i understand
why you can't raise your voice to say

slower slower
you don't time for that
all i want's to find an easier way
to get out of our little heads

have heart my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess

light up light up
as if you have a choice
even if you cannot hear my voice
i'll be right beside you dear

what do you mean, 'that was fast'?

first day back at school. slight difference in layout with the construction of new student centre. looks hype. compared to what's in the back. not a difficult feat.
thursdays are my long days, but with all my interesting courses. first up, 'world religions: western traditions' @ 9:00 am. now i can get my sunday school on for marks. two hours later (12:00) i gots my 'solar system and intro to modern astrophysics'. this course looks like it will rip out my brain, wipe it's butt with it and shove it back into my head via some yet to be discovered use of a baseball bat. i like 4th year physics courses for 2nd year. and the book is $180 of 6 lb. goodness. without the pretty pictures =(. 3 hours after that (4:00) i have two hours of linguistics! yipeee! after this course i should be able to make up words with even MORE impunity and three times the authority. stick THAT in your ear, webster.

something old: i did the crossword and the jumble, as usual and i FINISHED IT! in about 30 minutes. that's sick.
something new: instead of taking the newspaper like i usually do, i just took out the section containing said crossword/jumble and put the rest back on the stand.
something blue: that would be my shirt. and jeans. and glasses. and 'fanny pack' - or as that woman at the ACC gate said prior to my watching the slovakia/russia match:
"Sir, can you open up that purse- i mean bag..."
*gasp*"I call it a purse too!!!"
"Okay, you're clear."
i wanted to hug her but there were other people in line.

once more with feeling

somebody told me that i should write more personal entries, entries with which to portray my feelings to my avid readers. true, most of my entries lean towards mundane and amusing, steering clear of 'feelings' and 'personal' items. i do so enjoy writing silly things in the guise of serious business. so i assume that this person wanted me to write about the girl that i feel affection for and would like to read some of my pointless repinings on the subject matter because it could potentially be a delectable piece of juicy gossip. here is a tidbit from my private stash of 'things i write/say to myself about the girl - nay, woman - that i like and/or love':

"the hairs of her faint moustache writhe like decapitated worms as she sips her tea. i presume that it is the convection currents emanating from the hot tea that cause the hairs to gyrate so. watching this makes my heart yearn to pour tea for her forever, to fill her cup until it overfloweth with the abundance of my warm, fuzzy feelings, to comb back her eyebrows into sleek, sexy, muskrat-tail arches. i think she's the one. i know she's the one."

i'm wearing white tomorrow

did i mention that i'm done working at the day care (for this summer at least)? no? that's because i haven't really blogged anything since... a few weeks ago.

and thus ends another chapter of herman being harassed by little girls and little boys pretending to be little girls. aware that my tenure at the daycare was coming to an end, the girls rallied together and ambushed me every morning with wrist-dragging, bum-smacking good fun. granted these girls don't get to see me often since i'm with the older group, so i let them have their fun. and this other less little girl, lydia, would defend me and try to pry the other girls off. i thought that was cute.

the other teachers teased me about my 'girlfriends' and the boys would 'ooh' and 'eew' jealously as well. i would complain how i had to add two or three of them together (age-wise) to even consider it. obviously my charms are mis-aligned to the wrong demographic.

~

i went to the russia/slovakia game last night, my very first live hockey game, courtesy of wilbiks and his cottaging uncle. eventful it was, 7 goals total. several of the beautiful variety, alexander ovechkin living up to some of his hype. throughout the night, someone in one of the rows behind me kept heckling Zdeno Chara with comments debasing his skills, yelling 'zedaaaaaaaaaaaayno' everytime he hit the ice, etc. that was funny. mildly drunken colour commentary always is. he also gave the same treatment to Ilya Kovalchuk. too bad we were way up in the purple seats where no player could have possibly heard us. or maybe they did. both played subdued games, but not quite as subdued as the crowd in general. intermittent slovakian or russian cheers went up in sparse pockets of the arena. fans with more beer in them would often start cheering the Leafs or start singing O Canada.

nancy drew - relient k

i've got this thing for Nancy Drew;
her hair is blonde, her eyes are blue;
yeah, i think i'm falling in love.

i wish she'd say she'd marry me,
and why she won't is a mystery;
yeah, i know it's me she thinks of.

Nancy Drew,
why, i love you;
yes, i do.

one time these criminals with their guns,
they thought it would be fun
to try and kill my Nancy Drew!

i jumped out and saved her life,
then asked her to be my wife;
she said, "no, i'll never marry you!"

Nancy Drew,
why, i love you;
yes, i do.
Nancy Drew,
why, i love you;
yes, i do.

it's a really big mystery,
i'll put the Hardy Boys on the case;
'cause no time in history
has someone denied my face,
has someone denied my face.

Nancy Drew,
why, i love you;
yes, i do.
Nancy Drew,
why, i love you;
yes, i do.

and i'll be true
to you,
my Nancy Drew

Barry on the bus

school bus, on the way back to the day care from wasaga beach:
Barry: oh man, i gotta take a big wizz!
Ms. Niki: too bad, you have to hold it.
Barry: *groan*
~ few minutes later ~
Barry: Ms. Niki! i gotta take a big wizz!
Ms. Niki: we're still too far away, go out the window.
Barry: i can't!
~ few more minutes later ~
Barry: crap! Jeff! finish your powerade! i need the bottle!
Jeff: i'm not done yet!
Bernard: here, Barry! [tosses bottle]
Barry: nobody look! i gotta wizz!
Ms. Niki: oh ew!
Barry: STOP LOOKING!
Herbert: EVERYBODY! BARRY'S TAKING A WIZZ!
Barry: STOP LOOKING!
Herman: you know, if everyone just keeps watching he won't go until we get back.
Barry: STOP LOOKING!
Ms. Niki: he's really doing it!
Everyone: eeew!
Barry: STOP LOOKING!!!
~ dootdedoot ~
Ms. Niki: i can't believe he actually peed into a bottle...
Herman: better, Barry?
Barry: oh yeah! [waves it around]
Herman: yo! keep that down! did you screw the lid on tight?
Barry: yeah [swirls]
~ LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL ~
Herman: hey, lets hook his bottle up with the two leftover ones and give them to Byron, Bill and Isabelle... "oh, why is there less in this one?"
~ LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL ~
Herman: powerade should rename the yellow one from 'lemon-lime' to 'essence of Barry' or 'Barry-blast'!
~ LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL ~
Jeff: here, Barry [hands Barry small brown lump of candy]
Herman: hey, lets pop that into the bottle!
~ LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL ~
Ms. Niki: oh my gosh!
Herman: what?
Ms. Niki: he put the wrapper in too.
Herman: that totally ruins the effect.
~ after disembarking ~
Herman: um, Barry threw out the bottle in the bus driver's garbage can...
Ms. Niki: [disbelief] what?!

super Jew!

ah. back from camp. i really enjoy not having wet shoes. alas, they were already on their way to the can and pond water just sped up the inevitable. adieu, my shoe(s).

R.I.P.
marshmallow airwalk shoes
(May 2003 - August 2004)
you took me to places
i've never been before;
spacious and comfortable,
i couldn'tve asked for more.

your tongue was large and puffy
and it had a zipper.
i thought that was weird;
i thought that was chipper.


did i find more God at camp? mm, can't say i did, not anymore than usual. however, a few things were reinforced and future considerations were... well, for lack of a better word, considered.

other than that, camp was fun, in a very impromptu sort of way, from midnight cabin dodgeball, to "canoeing" to pyramids. none of those things were scripted and that's the way things should be done. as a coordinator i thought i could have done more, but i think that if i did that, everything would have exploded, so i'm glad i didn't. megaprops to everyone that helped.

big pandas don't cry

you know what's great about hockey at day care, aside from various children getting high sticked, pummeled into the not-so-soft boards and blocking shots against their will (one of them, while tending the goal got a wrister in the nuts and he actually rolled around crying and moaning)? nothing. nothing at all.
hockey with children totally takes the hockey out of me. all the worrying, can't raise shots without fearing for a face, having to use a tennis ball because orange ball is too hard, etc.
however, i still managed to post 6 goals with a curveless stick the length of my leg. and one of them was a nasty mid-air, cross-gym centering pass that i tipped into the back post left-handed and on the run. and it wasn't by accident. that was dandy.

pointless repinings

nothing takes away a good night of sleep like hives all over. but if i ignore them they fade away like aquaintences and watercolour with too much water and not enough colour.

i had a neat dream, but i promptly forgot it after i remembered it this morning and reminded myself to blog about it because i haven't really blogged lately and i'm sure someone out there was thinking, 'hey, why hasn't herman blogged lately?', and if that person had asked me i would've said, 'work' or 'lazy' or 'run-on sentence' and that would have satisfied the curiosity of that person because the only people that would ask are the only people that would be satisfied by those answers of mine, brusque and random, like a lot of everything else that i tend to say in passing or out of context in my monotonically textured and barely audible mumble for which i blame on big lips and big ears because that makes the most sense to me in addition to making the least sense to anyone else, which is just the way i like it, great communicator that i am, proving it by mincing my words to noncomittal grunts, gesticulations and ominous staring, right eyebrow cocked to just above the "you're kidding" line and slightly below the "i am registering incredulous surprise at your blatant audacity" line, presumably in the "curious off-colour statement that should have recommended a round of cardiovascular exercise to prevent stamina failure" gray area that is rarely trod upon because everyone is so P.C. this, and P.C. that, while i consider P.C. to be a brand name of quality iced tea in a can that makes me wonder what the difference is between the President and the Master that both make choices, but not important ones, just which chicken pie, or which club soda would really 'hit the spot' of prospective consumers - heterotrophs, the lot of them - fishing in their pockets for discs of metal and rectangles of what appears to be paper but is actually cloth, pressed and inked and featuring 50 new security failsafes to prevent forgeries that would displease the queen who hasn't really been pleased with much of anything since those william and britney rumours flew to the ground in light of charles and anonymous male staff member rumours, which i'm sure was the real reason that mary-kate checked into rehabilitation with jean bennet and paris hilton's adopted arkansas cow.

Movie Review: The Boondock Saints (1999)

starring: willem dafoe, sean patrick flanery, norman reedus, david della rocco, bill connolly

irish fraternal twins are annointed by God to scour Boston of evil after killing two russian mob goons in defense. a masterful and and highly eclectic detective, called in from the FBI, trail the 'Saints' in their high-profile killings of organized crime members.

this movie was downgraded to an R after the initial rating of NC-17 called for some editting of very explicitly violent scenes. indeed, this movie is as violent and gratuitous in it's use of unkosher language as snatch and fight club and other crime/action thrillers blah blah blah who cares? i don't normally find ridiculous violence or swearing funny, but this was funny.

the crux of the movie is in the ethical dilemma of vigilante justice, particularly through violent means. now, the movie does not exactly present a thoroughly balanced case, so don't expect to come out of watching it a changed person. incidentally this was released just a short time before the columbine incident so it sort of got mashed out.

anyways...

cinematically the movie was fluid, employing interesting time jumps and replays that leave the observant viewer a sense of satisfaction when he predicts the next scene. the interplay between the killings and the investigation after (or before) is fluid and in one of them interlinked. dafoe is hilarious as the FBI agent assigned to the case, condescending, flamboyantly homosexual, eccentric to the t, the exaggerated eclectic genius, all performed beautifully. the brothers, connor and murphy macmanus, were masterfully played (sean patrick flanery, norman reedus).

with all the seriousness involved in gun violence, the movie is obtusely light and pokes fun even at the stylized movie gunfights. granted, the audience should be wary in endorsing any form of violence. and for a movie riddled with violence, there is a lot of love in it too.

while there are obvious Christian elements (the brothers are devout catholics) some of the more subtle references lie in the characters. the brothers compare to James and John, the sons of Zebedee while their partner in crime, Rocco, is obviously the stubborn and hot-tempered Peter (even the choice of name... peter=rock, rocco...), even though he looked like the popular depiction of long-haired, bearded Jesus. very fitting allegory as James and John asked Jesus to rain fire and brimstone upon a city that rejected Jesus.

notes: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA... willem dafoe is a little (very) disturbing. there are a few gay scenes that could have been omitted, but i suppose they were their to cement (bonk you on the head) the fact that he is a practicing homosexual into your mind. it certainly explains a lot of his 'displays'. i don't think i'll be able to watch spiderman the same again. this movie wasn't deep, but there was symbolism (symbology!!!harhar) all over the place. the guns appealed to my testosterone, much like the first matrix movie. 'aequitas' = justice; 'veritas' = truth.

rating: 4 out of 5

You Damn Kid: Gates of Heaven

Indians 6 vs. Jays 3

while doing "the wave"...
Justin: is this praising the Lord?

guess who's jealous?

Nathan: knock knock!
Elim: who's there?
Nathan: Herman!
Elim: Herman who?
Nathan: Herman kissing Jessica!
Elim: Herman, stop kissing Jessica from last year. i don't want to see that when i open the door.
Herman: i can't help it.

50 posts!

50 posts since pocketfish came into existence. we've seen some crazy things (vulcan logic, the girliest thing, gravitational distortions) in that time. ah memories and amusement.

now, some of you (actually, none of you) have asked, "what is pocketfish?"
today, on 50th post day, all will be revealed...

pocketfish is...
just what is a pocketfish? is it a portable species of fish? some handheld electronic gaming system that is not limited to boys or mammals? is it scaly? flaky? smelly? stitched? nay, fair gentle, pocketfish be none of these. it's just something silly i made up. the above three links are good examples of what embodies pocketfish.

there will always be fish in my pockets.

they jiggle quite enthrallingly, i can't help but watch

Ig Nobel Prize 2003: Biology

the first case of homosexual necrophilia in the mallard, anas platyrhynchos

On 5 June 1995 an adult male mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) collided with the glass façade of the Natuurmuseum Rotterdam and died. Another drake mallard raped the corpse almost continuously for 75 minutes. Then the author disturbed the scene and secured the dead duck. Dissection showed that the rape-victim indeed was of the male sex.

i wanted sunshine so you gave me a dandelion

i thought i was talking about hot dogs but then i wasn't and it was weird and the hot dog ate the bun like a japanese eater-man who ate 53.5 hot dogs in 12 minutes and that was gross. then again, japanese eater-man is the coolest, beating out american fat-mans in eating contest. if world war II had been fought on the competitive eating level, the outcome may have been totally different. innocent lives would have been spared, documentary companies will have gone bankrupt, as would miniature model shack and palm tree makers. then the russians would not have invented their own fat-boys and baby boomers would be less paranoid and bomb shelters would be made of hay or sticks and not of bricks.

use Secret Power to dig a Secret Base to house your pokedolls and furnishings. nincada used scratch! critical hit! it was not very effective. enemy cradily fainted! nincada grew to level 20! what...? nincada is evolving! nincada evolved to... ninjask! ninjask wants to learn double team but can only know 4 moves. what move should be deleted for ninjask to learn double team? forget harden? 1...2...3...poof! ninjask forgot harden! ninjask learned double team! ninjask wants to learn fury cutter but can only know 4 moves. what move should be deleted for ninjask to learn fury cutter? stop learning fury cutter? ninjask did not learn fury cutter. ninjask wants to learn screech but can only know 4 moves. what move should be deleted for ninjask to learn screech? forget scratch? 1...2...3...poof! ninjask forgot scratch! ninjask learned screech!

sausages and cupcakes

i feel off, disconnected from everything and everyone around me, for so long now that i'm not quite sure i can even recall what i felt before. my pendulum is longer than your's, baby, yeah. T = 2*pi*sqrt(m*L/g) therefore T alpha L^1/2.

as i go about doing the things that i do, it seems like my performance has dropped. i'm a little slower, a little dumber, and it all adds up. the pedal is down but the granny-on-walker is still faster.

maybe i'm not going on all 6 cylinders - i know i'm a 6 cylinder. maybe a few of them are stuck (peanut butter, a la magic school bus - but that was air intake). maybe everything around me is improving while i'm where i always was. short legs are great for acceleration, but in the longer haul it takes more effort i guess.

or maybe i've just begun to see the bigger picture, how inadequate i always was, how much further i need to go. jiminny crickets my ultimate super plan is hard to work up to. there seems to be too much time for commercials and there are no apparent fruits for my labour. so i'm working for an uncertainty, with nothing to show for it for quite a long time. at what point do i slip from patient to stupid stubborn? is there a give up point (not really an option)? or at least a place to rest up for the last legs of the journey? give me something to work with, i'm out of ideas.

cheese poodle

i hate it when i'm stupid.

---

OSAP status: on hold
reason: discrepancy in application information
details: according to the Ministry of Transportation, driver's license does not exist.

reaction: oh snap.

i was just about to get furious when i noticed that i had made a typo (reversed the order of the first two numbers after the letter) in my application. hoorah for hoimin. way to make more work for yourself. at least i got mail.

plus, i overnapped during lunch at work by 15 minutes =( hoorah for hoimin. way to be tired. at least my pillow was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

poombuugar

i don't think i've ever had spaghetti accidentally dumped on my head, but if it were to happen i'd be mildly annoyed. at least flustered. spaghetti stains only target white shirts.

waiting is hard. all that standing and not moving... it had better be worth it.

Movie Review: Dodgeball

Starring: Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, Christine Taylor, Jason Bateman, Rip Torn

an entertaining look at the true spirit of competitive dodgeball. there were many outrageous moments, a staple in a ben stiller movie. i thought the story was a bit lacking, the acting was a bit wishywashy and some of the gags were a bit low. the only saving point was ben stiller as white goodman, the over the top nazi, ex-fat, gym tycoon.

not quite up to par with zoolander and vince vaughn looks like tom hanks. ball in the groin happened so often that it wasn't even funny.
2.5 out of 5

what's after castlefrank?

Erica: psst, do you think that girl is cute?
Herman: oh, yes.
Erica: you have a crush on her!
rushes off to get Brenda.
Erica: Brenda! come! i have something to tell you!
Brenda: okay!
both scamper to where Herman is standing.
Brenda: what?
Erica: Herman has a crush on that girl!
Brenda: teeheehaahaa!

well, that was different.

mostly for the benefit of female readers, please be warned that the following is not kosher blogging material and is only written for it's obtuse hilarity. the following is in no way intended to make you sit with a straight face. on the humour scale of class, this is about as low as it goes (right down there with spontaneous combustion due to bowel gas and dropping soap) , thus i will try to spin it as refinedly as possible.
highlight at your own discretion:
you know how sometimes when limbs "fall asleep" you get pins and needles? i had the misfortune of having my penis fall asleep in that very same way as i was sitting. i can only attribute the cause to prolonged penile inactivity.
at first i thought a drawstring was positioned improperly within my shorts, but a quick mental check of the design of my shorts - drawstrings on the outside - spared me the checkup - or checkdown, as would have been the case.
generally the first reaction to any sleeping limb is to massage it awake. i opted for a discrete prod of the narcoleptic organ instead and found it to be oddly unfeeling. curiouser and curiouser.
before i could investigate further, i.e. visual inspection, i felt the urge to empty my bladder. in the process of doing so, the aforementioned sleepy-head (pun very much intended) was wakened and all was right with the world once again.

this is getting ridiculous

Tim: Herman, do you have a girlfriend?
Herman: Nope.
Tim:Yes you do. She goes to my church.
Herman: What?
Tim: How old are you?
Herman: 19
Tim: How come you don't have a girlfriend yet?
Herman: what do you mean, yet? Go eat your lunch.

i guess they don't believe that i'm going to marry avril lavigne anymore. i'm beginning to answer more snappishly regarding their nosing into my personal life. And since Tim only just got back from vacation for this week, i can only assume that someone informed him of Justin's declaration (see below) sometime before lunch. which means that there is some manner of rumour mill going on within the campers.
also...

Elim: Do you remember an Elisa?
Herman: Um... no?
Elim: She remembers you.
Herman: I guess we were juniors together or something. I don't remember anything from junior or senior.
Elim: Me neither. But she remembers you. She's got pictures.
Herman: "THIS is Herman" points
Elim: Apparently you were her boyfriend.
Herman: I guess it's not that good that I don't remember her then.

okay. that was weird. Elim is a co-worker, and also the girl that Tim and Herbert (see below) were referring to.

kids say the darndest things...

@ centreville, centre island
Daniel: where's Brenda?
Herman: on the Scrambler.
Eric: hey, Daniel, why do you want to know?
Daniel: wah?
Eric: you like Brenda, don't you?
Daniel: NO!
Eric: look, he's blushing!
Daniel: she's 8 and i'm 10!
Herman: so what?
Eric: even better!
Herman: haha
Eric: sings Daniel likes Brenda, Daniel likes Brenda...
Daniel: blushes furiously

***
@lunch
Herbert: hey, Herm, now's your chance!
Herman: wha?
Herbert: you know, to make your move!
Herman: uh...
Herbert: rrowr rrowr!
Herman: what are you talking about?
Herbert: look to your right... no, the other right... the girl in the white.
Herman: why?
Herbert: because you LIKE her!
Herman: who said so?
Herbert: Justin did.
Herman: you guys say that every year about whoever.
Herbert: true... but still!

green tea ice cream

there's something oddly comforting about making noxious cocktails after dinner with cousins. ah, japanese food, how hilariously you jiggle.

green tea ice cream + tempura soy sauce = ummm
green tea ice cream + wasabi = @#%&!!!!!
on a personal note: i am happied ^___^

just another day

incident: 138 lb.(!!!), 10 year old boy throws plastic/foam baseball bat at the head of fellow day camper at local day care centre, striking his mouth glancingly.
subsequent punishment: a long stay in 'the office', only one soft taco - heaped with lettuce, tomato and lacking the ground beef he so desires, the required completion of one grade 5 grammar workbook.
status: taco - eaten; workbook - 'completed': the first page was completely wrong and required a good hour or two to correct. the rest of the workbook is assumed to be equally incorrect.

thoughts: guh.

EDIT: mathematics --> grammar

finally!

"oh man, during the camping...my cousins and my brother kept saying your name..."herman" lol. my cousin (12 year old) played truth or dare with me...and he was like..."who do you like? honestly" i was like..."hmmmm..." then he was like.."herman isn't it?" then they chanted your name "herman. herman. herman. herman." getting louder each time. the adults were looking strangely at us, wondering who herman was."

it's true, i am that famous.

i miss...

engrish classes. really. fer rizzo mah dizzle bah shizzo. nizzo.
i've taken to analyzing movies. it does provide an added level of enjoyment, or disdain, depending on the movie. for example: spiderman 2. as i watched, i noted how dr. otto octavius and his wife quickly took on parental roles to peter parker, made especially effective since we knew he would become the villain of the movie. any more and i'd be giving stuff away. but seriously, watch that movie. it's flipping deep for an action movie. but not plot complicated like memento. unfortunately, i cannot analyze cinematically as competently as i would like to due to lack of knowledge and training in the field.
the same thing happens with books too, the noting of rhetorical devices, clever assonances, subtle metaphors that i would very much liked to have coined myself (yay atwood! - thanks jacqueline) and groaning painfully at any use of deus ex machina. seriously, the worst plot device EVAR!!!!1111oneone. even worse than "he woke up and realized it was all a dream. he climbed out of bed and went to brush his teeth." books with deus ex machina get dropped at that very spot. too bad it always appears late in the book.

people my age. for now, i hang out with kids who are always tittering or giggling about body parts and bathroom phenomena. like 'dildo pickle'. try explaining to a ten yr. old why that is inapporpriate. just try. and cry... "herman, why would anyone need a fake dick? is it for people who get their's chopped off?" guh. people my age usually also don't ask me, "do you have a girlfriend?", "who's your girlfriend?", "is she your girlfriend?". actually, i'm sort of glad i can say, "nope", "i don't have one", "nope". otherwise there would be, "can i see a picture of her? eww, she's ugly." then i'd get fired for beating a kid up.

our long midnight conversations.

slow goings

not much blogging as of late due to general busy-ness with work. i missed potw. i'm sure you all did too. in other news, i can see-see my playmate come out and play with me... so please, someone, instead of saying hi, hook a brother's pinkies up... my jamaican Jesus-fish friendship bracelet doesn't itch or chafe or ride up in the crotch.

note to self: drop out of school.
note to other self: sit down, play quietly, or get out.
note to self again: break up now and you can still keep the george foreman grill.

Movie Review: SPIDER-MAN 2

starring: tobey maguire, kirsten dunst, alfred molina, james franco

*mild spoilers*

this is how all sequels should be done. new and improved!

'spider-man', that blockbuster summer smash back in 2002 was charming, moving and way cool. 'spider-man 2' is all that and more.

there were some scary moments, some hilarious moments, some moments in which peter parker: the nerd shows up, the obligatory blurry glasses and burning house moments, a mini-shoutout to tobey's seabiscuit back injury, and some real tear-jerking scenes.

spider-man 2 is mainly character driven, complimented by improved CG (still obviously fake at times, but what are you expecting?). tobey plays the much-maligned geek to the hilt, catching no breaks - there is some serious pathos. kirsten dunst, i felt, did alright. james franco was looking all kinds of hot (!!!), but was a rather minor character (more of him in spider-man 3, of course). alfred molina, usually a background character, is put in the spotlight and he delivers, so whatever fame will now come his way now is much deserved.

things of note: glynnis from joan of arcadia makes a few appearances, korean guy on the board of directors of wolfram and hart from angel also appears. of course there's jockser from xena. are new yorkers really that friendly? awesome headline: "(New York) crime rate up 75% - the daily bugle". the first song played for the credits: vindicated - dashboard confessional!!!!

4 1/2 out of 5

heart up my sleeves

Jamaican Jesus-fish friendship bracelet

Pokémon of the Week

POKEDEX name: ARON number: 304 type: Steel/Rock height: 1'4"/ 0.4 m weight: 132 lb./ 60.0 kg characteristic: rock head - prevents recoil damage; sturdy - protected against one-hit KO attacks evolutions: aron --lv.32--> lairon --lv.42--> aggron Ruby: This POKéMON has a body of steel. To make its body, ARON feeds on iron ore that it digs from mountains. Occasionally, it causes major trouble by eating bridges and rails. Sapphire: ARON has a body of steel. With one all-out charge, this POKéMON can demolish even a heavy dump truck. The destroyed dump truck then becomes a handy meal for the POKéMON.

base stats: HP:50 AT:70 DE:100 SA:40 SD:40 SP:30

POTW was late and no one noticed...
cute pokémon get more commentary attention. cute pokémon it is.
ARON!!! the cutest ball of swiss metal and rock around.

unevolved pokémon are generally weak, yet aron boasts a formidable defense, coupled with the generally highly defensive rock and steel type, and a decent attack. alas, the hit points, speed and special defence are woeful to the max - or min, as it were.

its move selection is nice and diverse, generally offensive attacks. unfortunately it also learns all the good special attacks that are rather not useful on a pokémon with such a low special attack stat. however, it does have a nice surprise effect when a graveller is trying to earthquake him but gets wiped out by a water pulse instead. note: arons are all slower than gravellers, save for paralysis and quick claws.

you know what's awesome? the rock head characteristic. it prevents recoil damage from attacks that are saddled with recoil, i.e. take down, double-edge. and aron can learn both. take down blows, but double edge is totally sweet. 120 power, normal type, 100% accuracy, 15 PP, but deals 1/3 of the damage dealt to the opponent to yourself in recoil damage. but with rock head, recoil is negated! yippee!!! thus, rock head + double-edge is a must on aron and all it's evolved forms.

Movesets

aron @ scope lens
characteristic: rock head
personality: adamant (+ATT, -SPA)
double-edge, earthquake, aerial ace, metal claw
adamant is one of the most useful personalities, skewing offensive stats to one end (physical). which is why all the attacks listed are physical and run off the attack stat. double-edge has already been explained. earthquake is a solid and accurate attack (100 pwr, 100% acc., 10 PP, ground move). aerial ace is a reliable attack that never misses so long as the opponent is on the screen (60 pwr, 20 PP, flying move) to nail pesky fighting types that aron happens to be 4X weak to. metal claw (50 pwr, 95% acc., 35 PP, steel move) is the only attack that runs off STAB, multiplying its power by 1.5, and has a wonderful 10% chance for the side effect of an attack boost. scope lens raises the chance of a critical hit, which doubles the attack power of that move.

next week... mmm... i don't know. someone pick one.

short skirt/long jacket

i want a girl with mind like a diamond
i want a girl who knows what's best
i want a girl with shoes that cut and-uh
eyes that burn like cigarettes

i want a girl with the right allocations
who's fast, and thorough, and sharp as a tack
she's playing with her jewelery; she's putting up her hair
she's touring the facility and picking up slack

i want a girl with a short skirt
and a long jacket

i want a girl who gets up early
i want a girl who stays up late
i want a girl uninteruppted prosperity
who uses a machete to cut through red tape

with fingernails that shine like justice
and a voice that is dark like tinted glass
she is fast, and thorough, and sharp as a tack
she is touring the facility and picking up slack

i want a girl with a short skirt
and a long, long jacket

i want a girl with a smooth liquidation
i want a girl with good dividends
at city bank we will meet accidentally
we'll start to talk when she borrows my pen

she wants a car with a cupholder armrest
she wants a car that will get her there
she's changing her name from kitty to karen
she's trading her MG for a white, chrysler labaron

i want a girl with a short skirt
and a long jacket

roadtrip

all times approximate

1000: picked up by arthur + perry
1018: picked up jacqueline
1023: sweet pea hand sanitizer
1030: picked up daniel
1120: edgewood!
1124: edgewood tour; pond!
1203: sup, pastor fred?
1241: guelph-bound
1326: wendy's lunch: jr. bacon cheeseburger(X2), biggie coke, leftover frosty
1415: university of guelph
1441: residence microwave finds a penny on its turn tray
1456: guelph bookstore
1514: toronto-bound
1539: wheeeeeeeeeee
1600: stuck in traffic
1615: perry dropped off
1624: home

comments:
- sweet pea = :)
- frosties make cokes bland
- a full car with 3/5 of the occupants fresh from eating chili nachos = :- arthur's girlfriend is NOT sandra :'( poor sandra.
- daniel was traumatized by children running across a street willy-nilly
- where is enrique's mole now?

children

"Her-man. You should email [Avril] everyday. That's how you get someone to marry you. You should marry Avril. Then you could be rich... and when you need to wipe your butt you won't have to, you just get the maid to do it for you."

"Herman, what colour is your underwear?"

"Why don't you watch wrestling? I like it when the blood pours down their faces. Then I know how Jesus felt when he was being crucified. What is more painful, wrestling or being crucified like Jesus?"

the girliest thing

reading a maragret atwood novel while taking a strawberry kiwi herbal foam bubble bath and wearing a fruit extract-with revitalizing minerals and vitamin formulae-pore opening facial mask with a towel wrap on to keep the freshly streaked hair dry while resting your neck on a folded purple terry cloth bath towel.

bad dream

Pokémon of the Week

POKEDEX name: NUMEL number: 322 type: Numb height: 2'4"/ 0.7 m weight: 53 lb./ 24.0 kg characteristic: oblivious - is not affected by ATTRACT evolutions: numel --lv.33--> camerupt Ruby: NUMEL is extremely dull witted - it doesn't notice being hit. However, it can't stand hunger for even a second. This POKéMON's body is a seething cauldron of boiling magma. Sapphire: NUMEL stores magma of almost 2,200 degrees F within its body. If it gets wet, the magma cools and hardens. In that event, the POKéMON's body grows heavy and its movements become sluggish.

base stats: HP:60 AT:60 DE:40 SA:65 SD:45 SP:35

due to popular demand, i present to you, numel. the numb camel. this is the first potw featuring a pokémon from ruby/sapphire. numel is the unevolved form of camerupt, one of the few new fire types available in RS. it has an intriguing type mixture, fire/ground. it neutralizes fire's weakness to rock and ground's weaknesses to ice and grass. unfortunately it compounds their collective weakness to water.

for an unevolved pokémon, numel boasts fair enough stats, leaning more to attacking than defending. a high-ish attack and special attack lends itself to using attacks from both types for STAB. by sheer charity, numel learns both flamethrower and earthquake! the pokégods smile upon this dopey pokémon. and it can learn body slam through breeding (w/ torkoal)!

unfortunately the rest of the moves available to numel are somewhat blah, and considering his weak defenses, numel cannot be expected to last long, nor can camerupt. with such low defenses and speed in an attack happy RS environment, there isn't much chance for setup. numel is probably better off as a fun pokémon for in-game play, as the elite five sport both ice and steel types, both suseptible to a numellian assault. onto the movesets...

numel @ quick claw; body slam, amnesia, flamethrower, earthquake
personality: relaxed (+DEF, -SPD)
train for max attack, half max special defense and half max special attack.
quick claw to maybe correct that woeful speed and the chance for paralysis from body slam will aid that cause. amnesia will maybe help numel live a little longer, or survive a pesky bubble (any water attack more powerful will faint numel no matter what =P).

numel @ scope lens; focus energy, body slam, overheat, earthquake
personality: sassy (+SDE, -SPD)
train for max attack, max defense
scope lens + focus energy for boosted critical hit rate. overheat is more or less one-time use because of that special attack drop. probably saved for skarmories and other steel types with no special defense. body slam for a chance for paralysis and speed drop, earthquake for a solid STABed attack.

The Poopie List

GHOST POOPIE: The kind where you feel the poopie come out, but there is no poopie in the toilet.
CLEAN POOPIE: The kind where you poopie it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper.
WET POOPIE: The kind where you wipe your butt 50 times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear so you won't ruin them with stains.
SECOND WAVE POOPIE: This happens when you're done poopie-ing and you've pulled your pants up to your knees, and you realize that you have to poopie some more.
POP-A VEIN-IN-YOUR-FOREHEAD POOPIE: The kind where you strain so much to get it out, you practically have a stroke.
LINCOLN LOG POOPIE: The kind of poopie that is so huge you're afraid to flush without first breaking it into little pieces with the toilet brush.
GASSY POOPIE: It's so noisy that everyone within earshot is giggling.
DRINKER'S POOPIE: The kind of poopie you have the morning after a long night of drinking. It's most noticeable trait is the skid marks on the bottom of the toilet.
CORN POOPIE: Self explanatory.
GEE-I-WISH-I-COULD-POOPIE POOPIE: The kind where you want to poopie but all you do is sit on the toilet and fart a few times.
SPINAL TAP POOPIE: That's where it hurts so badly coming out, you'd swear it was leaving you sideways.
WET CHEEKS POOPIE (The Power Dump): The kind that comes out so fast, your butt cheeks get splashed with water.
THE DANGLING POOPIE: This poopie refuses to drop in the toilet even though you are done poopie-ing it. You just hope that a shake or two will cut it loose.
THE SURPRISE POOPIE: You're not even at the toilet because you are sure you are about to fart, but *oops* --- a poopie!

amsterdam

come on, oh my star is fading
i swerve out of control
if i, if i'd only waited
i'd not be stuck here in this hole

come here, oh my star is fading
and i swerve out of control
and i swear i waited and waited
i've got to get out of this hole

but time, is on your side
it's on your side, now
not pushing you down
and all around
it's no cause for concern

come on, oh my star is fading
and i see no chance of release
i know i'm dead on the surface
but i am screaming underneath

and time is on your side
it's on your side, now
not pushing you down
and all around
oh, it's no cause for concern

stuck on the end
of this ball and chain
and i'm on my way back down

stood on the edge
tied to a noose
sick to the stomach
you can say what you mean
but it won't change a sin
i'm sick of the secrets

stood on the edge,
tied to a noose
and you came along and you cut me loose
you came along and you cut me loose
you came along and you cut me loose

have you ever wondered what one gallon of Miracle Whip would look like?

i have. and it's beautiful.

i'm in love...

sunny days

a great and terrible woe has befallen me.
too crispy to be allowed to play hockey.

arachibutyrophobia

i had 8 peanut butter covered Premium(tm) soda crackers and she likes me.

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."
- Charlie Brown (Charles M. Schulz, Peanuts)

Pokémon of the Week

POKEDEX name: NINETALES number: 38 type: Fox elements: Fire height: 3'7"/1.09 m weight: 44 lb./19.8 kg evolutions: vulpix -fire stone-> ninetales Gold: Some legends claim that each of its nine tails has its own unique type of special mystical power. Silver: Its nine beautiful tails are filled with wondrous energy that could keep it alive for 1,000 years.

base stats: HP:73 AT:76 DE:75 SA:81 SD:100 SP:100

oooh, foxy. ninetales is hot. can i say that? i think it's the tails. or maybe because it's a fire type. ha. ha. haaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

ninetales is a special attacker, as you can see in it's stats. like all stone evolutions, ninetales learns nothing, so it'd be wise to train it as vulpix for the moves. unfortunately, fire types don't get too much support from other moves, and are weak to common moves like Surf and Earthquake and Ancientpower. as it were, ninetales is not built for stamina, but speed and to wreak a bit of havoc on any setups (i.e. scizor baton pass). for all its beauty, ninetales is a bit of a kamikaze. it is best used as a starter, or perhaps after you take out the earthquaker and surfer and rock slider and generally anything that uses physical attacks.

so we'll look at a few possible movesets. annoyance/stall and starter. the moveset section will now look a bit different. actually, it's looked different each time so, meh.

Annoyance/Stall:
Ninetales @ brightpowder: Confuse Ray, Attract, Flamethrower, Dig
confraction will give the opponent a 75% chance of being incapacitated. dig will dodge attacks and do a bit of damage if you're stuck against a golem or something. flamethrower for a nice and heavy attack. brightpowder for that little extra help in avoiding attacks.

Starter
Ninetales @ Focus Band: Fire Blast, Roar, Confuse Ray, Sunny Day
a nice way to ruin early baton passing chains. starter scizor? roar or toast him! starter alakazam? confuse ray and switch out! sunny day will boost fire blast and will halve any pesky water attacks. focus band for luck, so you can actually pull off that roar or one final fire blast before you kick the bucket.

Gravitational Distortions Slow Learning

Intriguing new evidence a new cause for worry over obese children

By now it is obvious that fat children are just as susceptible to all the woes of the adult obese. Heart failure, high blood pressure, diabetes, and chronic lower back ailments from supporting girth are just a few of the numerous afflictions the obese must deal with other than soaring fast food prices and the massive influx of new, healthy menus that are so unfilling that one must order in double digits to satiate the hunger pangs.

Now new research has shown, in a recent study of elementary school students in Gallup, New Mexico, that fat kids slow the learning curves of students in their vicinity.

Fat kids are no longer merely dangers to themselves (and the hands that feed them), but to their friends and colleagues around them.

"We can't consider these results to be completely conclusive until we've studied a wider sample group," comments Dr. Fatima Azibarjan, lead researcher in the study and expert on lipidous physiology, "but the initial research is disconcerting."

fat kids slow the learning curves of students
Research began as an attempt to quantitize the variables that lead some students to become potential spelling bee winners. Once they began to look into grade 1 students' learning environments, they quickly noticed that spellers were generally at least one or two desks away from a fat child.

"Basically, we figure it works like this: the brain, at this age, is constantly making new neural connections, learning. But the gravitational exertions of a nearby fat kid throws the whole process for a loop. The result is an extremely inefficient use of brain space," says Dr. Azibarjan.

In laymen's terms, fat kids make skinnier kids stupider.

[report card] comments such as "needs improvement" and "unsatisfactory"...
"I sat behind Wilbert," Karmel Poulk chimes, "and it seemed to take longer for me to grasp complicated concepts in class, such as cursive writing. Perhaps it was because I cannot see the board so well."

A petite, bright-eyed young girl, Karmel consistently finds disappointment in her report cards. Comments such as "needs improvement" and "unsatisfactory" really push her self-esteem down and she must find her consolation in buying mushrooms.

Fortunately for Karmel, there is still hope.

"Parallel to this study, we're experimenting with new desk positions to try to take advantage of this phenomenon," says astronomer, Pitor Selenovski. "Just as we can slingshot around planets, using gravitational energy to our advantage, the theory is that we can also 'slingshot' neural connections by arranging the desks in strategic locations. A sort of gravitational lensing, to focus the mind and speed the learning curve."

The results are promising so far.

"In my new seat, I can now see the board."

Hottie of the Month

time for a new gimmick blog post. hottie of the month! w00t! this is where we (i) sift through a copious amount of applicants and after rigourous interviewing, one is selected to be the hottie of the month.

Name: Delfina Cabrera (not real, of course)

H:describe the perfect guy for you.
D:LOL alright... starting from head to toe =P
"cool" hair (black with highlights and weird, yet cool stuff), glasses!!!!! =P, biggggggggg smile, not a giraffe neck, broad shoulders, muscles..harhar.., abs baby, boxers, low-riser (but not too low), doesn't wear short shorts, or pants that are too small for him and wears FAT shoes

H:what do you think of shoelaces?
D:hmmm, well...they're quite useless.

H:how about ice cream?
D:hummm, they're delicious. especially mint chocolate ice cream with bananas. *droooooools* however, FATTENING!!!

H:mm... fat. which body part on everyone is generally too fat?
D:the errr...stomach? or whatever that part is called.

H:if you could give that part a name, what would you call it instead?
D:ummmm... blubber? lol

H:cool. thanks for the interview.
D:anytime.