Wow, it's late, and I'm feelin' zany. I also get the feeling no one will read this, yet I am compelled to post it to the web wound awound ze wowld. It occurs to me at this particular juncture that I haven't given myself more than four hours any night in a week, yet I have not yet begun to hallucinate--perhaps this is indicative of some superhuman ( Read more... )

This one hails all the way from the Oxford Spanish-English Dictionary ( Read more... )

I swear I see more of the inside of the night than the day.

I propose a poem to mark the occasion:

Fruit salad,
Fruit salad,
Salad as a rock?

Feelin' a little woozy.

You get ten points for the source of this little ditty.
Or perish.

click click click click click,
click click click click click click click,
click click click click bang.

Wow, I'm doing the same stuff I've been doing all day, but it's suddenly stopped being interesting. I guess it's time to think of a prank to play on my roommate. Maybe I'll set his bed on fire...

My friend Kevin called me this morning (does this sound like a lie?) drunk as usual, and demanded that I join him in a game of croquet. I protested, of course, it's cold outside, and I haven't played since early middle childhood, at which time I jokingly lofted a ball at my cousin at the exact moment he looked away and hit him in the side of the ( Read more... )

I spent four days and four nights in the wilderness, but I let the Australian farmers eat the locusts and so did not learn anything. Although thanks were given by many and turkey enjoyed by all, warming my heart with that familial glow, I was chilled to the bone and lost my warm center when I stepped off the plane into the balmy, seventy-one-degree ( Read more... )

It just occurred to me that I don't really feel it's worth it to post quick little affirmations like, "wow, Porkuie, your writing is genius." I guess I have the impression that my friends know they're brilliant, or maybe I just feel incompetent answering brilliance with cerebral insipidity. On the other hand, I never really feel like donating the ( Read more... )

So I just got back from Sixth Street where I spent about two hours talking to a girl who was hitting on me pretty hardcore. Funny thing is, of the first six words that came out of her mouth, the last three were, "I'm engaged." Resisting the temptation to force her to tell me ALL about her fiancee, I instead told her my sob story about how I'd been ( Read more... )

grad school, GRE,
medical insurance blues:
workaholic's get