Hey baby, is that a mirror in your pants? That’s kind of narcissistic isn’t it?‏

Have you ever done that thing where you go to pull a door handle but you miss with your hand and wind up stumbling backwards instead? It’s fun having to explain to other people in the bathroom that I’m not drunk.

I want to create an animal with the heart of a lion, the spirit of a lion, and the body of a lion . . . Come to think of it, I kind of want a pet lion I guess.

Beatnik is a word that I haven’t seen/heard in a long time. Maybe it’s due for a comeback?

So what are you all up to this weekend?

Living Art.

So a theme that we’ve seen in various stories is of that regarding an artist who can paint/draw something and have it come to life. But what if that power was in the hands of someone who draws rather poorly?

All of those poor bees, jeeez.

Wait, let’s talk about something else for a minute here. People who try to barge into bathroom stalls without knocking first when they see that the door is already closed. Why wouldn’t you at least tap the door a few times first? I don’t understand how people can’t see how rude they’re being when they slam into the door or try to pull it open without checking. Being scared while on the can isn’t cool.

Anyway, so having your drawings come to life is a power that can indeed be wasted on somebody with no talent. Trying to draw weapons be effective because your guns wouldn’t work, your blades would be blunt objects at best, and anything that’s hastily drawn with no skill would likely fall apart upon use anyway.

And the food thing. How would that work? Can you draw nutritional value? If a piece of food is poorly drawn does it become rotten/stale/etc upon its arrival to reality? Oh, and forget about transportation altogether. Any vehicle created would be more likely to kill the driver rather than provide any transportation whatsoever.

Lastly, I shudder at the thought of all the new and terrifying creatures that would be drawn into existence.


The following picture was drawn by Kenneth using Gimp, and he calls it the open source poorly drawn bee. Thanks Kenneth!

A double header of notes I wrote four and a half years ago.

“An unbiased review of Diet Pepsi Max.”

So I had the new Diet Pepsi Max the other day. After drinking half a litre I must say the following:

There truly must be a divine power up above, for what was once perfect is now even more so. Twice the caffiene (sp?), more taste, less bite and all around awesome. I could seriously live on this stuff.

In fact, if I had divine powers, I wouldn’t turn water into wine. Wine makes people sleepy. I would turn it into Diet Pepsi Max so that my followers could rock and roll all night and worship me every day.

I highly recommend this stuff for you, your children, aunts but not uncles, the goldfish and your lawn. This is truly the greatest thing to ever happen to mankind, and I wish to share it with you all. So drink some today and POWER UP TO YOUR FULL POTENTIAL AND THEN SOME WITH A BIT LEFTOVER!

That is all.


“I have a recipe for disaster. Stupid dollar store cookbook.”

So I had went to the local dollar store the other day to go shopping, because I am all hardcore and shit. I was having a look around while reminding myself not to pick up the poisoned Chinese toothpaste when I saw it. “The Only Cookbook You Will Ever Need.” Well, with a title like that how could anything possibly go wrong, right?

On my way to the cash I had decided to browse through the music section, because you can never have too many poor quality Mozart CDs. Approaching the cash, I felt a twinge of excitement. Man, is trying out some new food really supposed to affect me this way? Sad. I paid for my stuff with debit (yes, debit), and then walked home.

I had raced home, and as such my heart was racing whist I put on some Speed Racer. Opening my cookbook, a certain recipe had caught my eye. A recipe . . . for disaster. And I had all the ingredients.

With much haste I put everything together in a bowl and mixed on high for 10 minutes . . . by hand. Boy did that ever hurt the wrist. Thankfully I was used to it. Anyhoo . . .

So I poured my creation onto a baking sheet and cooked at some random temperature (it actually called for that in the book) for as long as I felt. After three hours I had taken it out. After tasting it and puking promptly I had realized that I had been misled. It didn’t cause a major disaster that could destroy cities. It just tasted like one. Stupid dollar store cookbook.

I cried myself to sleep that night . . .


The following bee was drawn by Steve who’s okay (I guess) at Marvel vs Capcom 2. I changed the text to reflect his true feelings about Megaman.

I don’t really write about bees that often now that I think about it.

There were no items in the room, save for a picture of a fox on the wall. This was clearly the final destination for an individual suffering from some sort of psychological melee with exactly 26 personalities, with a few of them being similar to each other. I know because this was carved into the door, which was brown in both colour and diameter. I guess this is what happens when your best friend is a green T-Rex who stomps on the same log house every day for years on end and often has private talks with God.

Right. I should probably start from the beginning and stuff. You see, one day I was trying to catch a bee. I wanted to remove its stinger and rub the bee between two fingers out of curiosity. However, the bee ate me. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention . . . this bee was as large as a student loan and almost half as dangerous.

So anyway, I’m inside this bee. Except this bee is apparently made of furnished condos and billy goats. One of the condos was labelled with the name ‘Billy’. He seemed important, so I took a billy goat and used the billy goat as a billy club on Billy’s door to try and bully Billy into helping me.

The door opened and I was greeted by an utahraptor. He beckoned me in and I followed, for I was already eaten once today. He led me to his bedroom with a promise of gingerbread men and classic literature. I was led into the room I mentioned before. He left to grab the latest issue of Popular Mechanics. This is when I got bored and noticed everything I mentioned beforehand. Since I was bored, I left the condo and then left the bee via blood cell surfing after which I went home.


The following was drawn by my former roommate and current friend Ansel. Yes, that is the best way I could’ve worded it in my mind.

Have you ever been so tired that you were too scared to fall asleep?

The sense of paranoia that happens when you reach a certain level of over-tired is pretty scary at the time (while it occures), although it can be amusing after the fact. That fear of never waking up doesn’t happen any other time. Well, maybe after a day of eating donair(s) and pizza(s) as is absolutely necessary from time to time.

I’m severely disappointed by the lack of hallucinations that happen when I’m this tired. Actually I’m quite thankful because the mere concept of hallucinations is something that I’m afraid of, but on the other hand I figure such a thing would make for some interesting writing material y’know? Maybe I should go back to abusing NeoCitran.

Oh man, that stuff was awesome! One time had this dream that hot dog wieners became illegal somehow and on the way to school (I would’ve been 16 or 17 at the time) I walked by an alleyway where a sketchy guy was dealing illicit hot dogs cooked on a secret barbeque. Then the next night I had this other dream where the police busted some kid’s birthday because his parents were serving hot dogs. It was hardcore. They were driving their police cars through the lawn table things and everything. Man, had I kept that up I could’ve written some sort of novel . . .

But no . . . Instead here I am just debating on if I should go to bed three hours early tonight or not. Lame.

Hollow victories.

Ever since I had seen that tall tree standing along in a clearing that I found in the middle of the forest as a child I knew I wanted to reach the top of it someday. After weeks of unsuccessfully trying to climb it I brought a chainsaw one day. Having cut down the tree I simply walked over to the top of it and I had finally achieved my goal. The view from there wasn’t really as good as I was hoping though.

I am the master of the 2 meter sprint. I think.

I’ve always wanted to ride a horse but I was too poor to afford proper riding lessions. So one day I worked up the nerve and rode the merry-go-round with all of my savings. Wheeee . . . ?

The pride that comes with a hard day of work done at the office.

Purchasing and eating an entire cake or tub of ice cream. An empty victory with plenty of empty calories on the side!

Winning arguments with Santabot on a regular basis. I’ve also sat through 6 1/2 hours of Leekspin. Online arguments are generally hollow victories as well. Maybe victories on the internet in general are ultimately pointless for the most part.


All credits regarding this video’s content are in the video description.