* Grab the nearest book.
* Open the book to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post the text of the next seven sentences in your journal along with these instructions.
* Don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.

It empties the water from this area. A second yank on the chain refills the area. A ( Read more... )

Three of my friends made posts today about school and I don't want to be left out.

That is all.

Stole the zombie quiz from Courtney.

Courtney, who is apparently some kind of insane zombie-annihilating-berserker, able to destroy entire hordes of brain munchers while being curled up in the fetal position ( Read more... )

The more I think about, the more pissed off I get about the little anti-dedicated stagehand slips that happened while working on the chess match. I find that I would really enjoy getting the entire cast together and yelling at them about it. It was only a few times and it was only a few people, but that kind of shit should not happen. Especially ( Read more... )

Okay, peeps of G-ville. This is a reminder to myself, and by some odd extension a reminder to you to remind me to remind you...or something, that we need to cement some plans for Janicon fairly soon. According to this page on the convention website ( Read more... )

I refuse to blah my personal problems all over the internet, but since my Jessica is currently somewhere in the middle of the Carribean I think I'll make an exception this time.

BLAH!

There, that's all I'm allowing myself.

So, as I sit here with a decent bout of eye muscle soreness I contemplate the trip to the eye doctor that's going to occur in roughly 30 minutes. I plan on telling them my eyes are sore and then I wonder how would I respond if they asked me "How much does it hurt ( Read more... )

You know who's a badass mother f$%^ker?


( Read more... )

THE GLORIOUS WORLD OF ADVERTISING

Yay! Once again Google brings us a one-of-a-kind ad banner, although this time I don't think the fault lies with them.


( Read more... )

You're not even worth a Snickers.

Though apparently I stride across tarmac, and carry a crowbar as I grunt apocalyptically. Clearly I'm Gordan Freeman.