oh shits the sun is up.

ah well.

paper flies off my fingers.

They'll check my wrist.
I'll faint a pulse
I'm not the human
You thought I was.

The new mars volta album makes me want to implant a chip in my head that plays Cedric's sweet rhythms and vocal orgasms into my brain all the time.

Or i could buy an Ipod....

the context of speech and language in the realm of acadamia, specifically in the realm of scienfic journals relating to physchology and social trends, is so utterly confounding that I would like to die.

This is going to be a good year.

The news makes me not sleep. Are we that stupid?

World War Three.

I fucking hate veggie tales.
Never let me get to a point in my life where I would ever require my kids to watch it.

The environment is too important to be left to environmentalists.

Well I guess I got accepted to cornell. Now lets see if I can pay for it.