She Has a Robotic Hand

I just had a super fun weekend. There was bowling and we almost saw Gay Beast — except that Gay Beast’s myspace site listed 9pm for the show at the Triple Rock, and Triple Rock’s site said 6pm. Of course, I didn’t see that until 8, so when we got there, all there was to do was buy the Gay Beast EP. Dan (the singer and keyboardist) recognized Cake Woman and I from myspace, which is ridiculous and marks the two of us as internet nerds. Well, me at least, because I’m not memorably cute like Cake Woman.

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Free Time!

Apparently I arranged my schedule too well, since I used up my 20 hours of work time by one pm today. This rules! Maybe I should have bought books or submitted that form to my advisor before leaving campus. Oh well.

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Do You Believe In Magic… Numbers?

I’m gonna dance the night away

I made a terrible joke about vi and emacs in CSci 4131 (Internet Programming, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA — that wasn’t the joke) today, which was probably unwise because class ended only moments later, and then I had to ask Professor Sturtivant for permission to join his late night evening class. He took me to the CSci office, where I acquired the number 108634, which I used to get into 5403 so I could drop 4061. That’s the 411 on my schedule, and it completes the first stressful week of school, to be followed by additional stress as I figure out how I will pay for my books. Oh yeah, and tuition. Hooray!

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What Did That Sign Say?

You know the street — 19th, or 10th, or whatever the hell eventually becomes Johnson. It goes across a bridge from the West Bank to University — right by the Amoco. There’s a sign that you can see when you go Northbound on that bridge that says something like “treat your suicidal depression or die!!!”


Anyway, I thought that it looked more like it should say:
“If I weren’t so depressed, I’d ask you to take your finger out of my ass.”

At least Cake Woman thought it was funny. That’s why I like her so much, because she pretends to think that I’m funny, even if you don’t.

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Push It

Zach and I were just dancing to Push It. I told Cake Woman over the phone and she almost crashed her car to get the image out of her mind.

Push It

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I Don’t Know What To Tell You

Yesterday was a long day which ended in the promise of a magic number for me. Unfortunately I missed the start of the other class that I was trying to get into today because I thought that it started at 4:30 instead of 4:00. Since the professor is in the hospital, his replacement didn’t hang around, so I didn’t get a promise of a magic number this time. So, some stress went away, some didn’t. I still don’t know how I’m going to pay for my books.

About five am I woke up this morning with a pain in my right eye as though something were in it. This happens from time to time, and I know that the only real solution is to blink a lot, try to clear anything that might be in it, and then go back to sleep so that my cornea can heal. It just has to do with my eyes drying out. However, this was plenty of excuse for me to go back to sleep after Cake Woman called to wake me up — I find sleeping through literally blinding pain to be easier than getting out of bed and making my own coffee.

I should mention that I fell asleep to Law and Order SVU, and woke up a while later to some sort of Island of Girls Gone Wild thing. Those two things blended in my brain to produce very unsightly dreams. I don’t recommend following that particular course of action, or inaction, as it were.

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I Don’t Really Do Comics Anymore

I was never that great of an artist, but I know how to just draw shit and call the results “my own style” or whatever. I sent one comic (the Big Book of Starboy Action) to Factsheet Five and the entire review was “Very rough. Loves trades.” I don’t know where my copy of that FS5 issue went, but I do have the final issue of FS5, which came out in 1998.

Anyway, I was looking for a big art pad that I used to have to cram my doodles into. I might be getting rid of a lot of stuff, but there’s stuff that I want to keep, too. While I was looking for that pad I came across a spiral notebook with some photocopies jammed into it. Those photocopies were of a comic that I was writing a script for — two guys I barely knew were drawing it. One of them was named Chris, and I don’t remember the name of the other. They moved, or at least said that they were moving, and I stopped work on the script.

I have a whole album of what they finished:

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I can’t say that I snapped into consciousness like some sort of evil robot, but my eyes are open and I am not in bed. If it weren’t for having received a wake up call I could almost claim adulthood. Now let’s see how well I wake up in a month or two.

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Mah Na Mah Na

Mah Na Mah Na! Doo doo doodoodoo!
Mah Na Mah Na! Doo doo doo doo!
Mah Na Mah Na! Doo doo doodoodoo doodoodoo doodoodoo doodoodoo doodoo doo doo doooo doo!

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This Kid Is A Genius

Noah: Knock knock
Me: Who’s there?
Noah: Boo
Me: Boo who?
Noah: Boobies!

He came up with this all on his own!

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