So like... ok. I've been gone for a really, really long time guys. Seriously. But I do have a good reason: it's... no, I don't have a good reason at all. Recently there was Nerdly Shenanigans Week 2k2, but that was like, 8 days or something. I've been away nearly a month. First a few quick PAQ's (probably askable questions) and then Nerd Week in summary.
- Whats with the link on Validate? I don't know what it is, but it probably is fqwhgads.
- Are you back for good? No, I'm starting L'androide.com in a few days/weeks/nevermaybebutprobablyiwill
- Will the comics still be up? The DQ ones will stay here and I'll link them. I might give L'androide its own comic. Or I might validate the existence of my site in some other way. But I won't take them offline totally.
- Will L'androide have a domain? I guess I kinda answered this indirectly already but yes.
- Other questions... [email protected]
About that Nerd Week thing. Here's how it went.
Friday: I drove to CT to pick up Joe. We drove to NJ to meet with Katy. Joe, me, and Katy hung out in NJ at went to a bunch of diners. Katy went caniptional with coffee and salted a ton of ice to the table. We tipped too much and ran. We also watched Donny Darko during a storm, which ruled.
Saturday: We went into New York but it was really hot and sucked, so we went home again. We later met up with some of Katy's friends and stole/burned an american flag. We also went to some more diners.
Sunday: We were supposed to see an UCB show free but Samn didn't show up in time. Katy kicked Joe and me out of the house so we went to the 2nd largest mall in America. It was closed, mostly, but we did some stuff. We came home and hung out with the newly arrived Samn and Jocelyn. I think we may have gone to another diner.
Monday: We picked up Brandon. His bus was over an hour late. He rode home lying across the laps of 3 ppl in the back seat. Probably illegal. Probably. He regaled us with tales of Iowa and masturbation. Samn and Jocelyn left that night. No diner.
Tuesday: We went to NY with B-dog. It was pretty ok, and he got some trinkets to remember it by.
Wednesday: LOTR, some food, then Joe, Brandon, and I went back to CT.
Thurs-Sat: We hung about in CT, had some laughs, ate out once or twice, failed to make it to the beach, then I left.
Not at all disappointing for a first time.
Hoo Hah!! 7/17/02
Voltron1181: woo!
adamdst: meh?
Voltron1181: wermbl!
adamdst: florgin!
Voltron1181: GLAVIN!
adamdst: LAVEN!
Voltron1181: FORNLAVEN
adamdst: MAVEN!
Voltron1181: FELLFROSCH
adamdst: SKITITCH!
Voltron1181: NARF
adamdst: POINT!
Voltron1181: WEEEEEEEEEEE
adamdst: GONADS!
Spine and Penis Are Anagrams 7/9/02
Voltron1181: that bleeding vagina magic picture is like.. the kind of weird that changes you
Voltron1181: in scary ways
adamdst: ...the "it turns me on but i dont want to say it out loud" way, right
adamdst: ...
adamdst: ...
adamdst: right?
Eh.. - 6/29/02
Sue me if I get in a shitty mood sometimes. I mean, when I get the same amount of traffic when I don't write as when I do, and when the great majority of said traffic consists of incidental hits from idgets trying to figure out what a queef is, I ask myself what I'm doing here.
I need a domain. That'll happen, but it'll happen faster if someone writes me to tell me where I can get a good domain for a reasonable price. If you can't find a "reasonable" price, I'll settle for "really cheap."
I need more publicity. That I'm not as clear on what to do about. I guess I had better start using the posting accounts I have on other sites. Not to whore myself, mind you, but rather to make people see my name. And my vest. Made from real gorilla chest.
I need to make comics again! I've got a hairbrained scheme going where that's concerned. I drew a few chars by hand, I think I may very well scan them and make them my main thing. The boob people were good because they didn't take long to draw, and their relatively unique, so I might just keep them around too. It depends, queefster, oh how it depends. It depends like your incontinent grandmother. Except that... well it doesn't depend on prunes and bran muffins as much as like how lazy I turn out to be.
So Yeah. Consider this my rainbow, you one or two waterlogged Noahs of the internet that deign to grace this humble HTML heap, (alliteration makes me hot) and if you know what's good for you stay away from www.goldencalf.com.
In other news...
- My =W= ticket makes me horny
- Still shooting for weekday security hours
- Looking forward to vacations with interweb friends and at Ocean City with the fam. (I can barely stand 40% of the fam, but I love ocean city.)
Well, It's Not Quite a Mop, and It's Not Quite a Puppet.. - 6/21/02
It's payed off at last.
The pining, waiting, rending of garments (not my own, that would be stupid), the yearning, the hating Bioware with the hate that kills, the searching, the hoping, the hours and hours of loveless tantric sex, the nightmares, the daymares, the mid-eveningmares (thosed were the most fucked of all), the frustration, aggrivation, anticipation, masturbation, and most of all the phone calls from angry dwarves were, and every single one of them, worth it; for now, after at least three delays, it's all about...
NW-FUCKING-N, BABY
The game is so intense that it comes with a sort of cloth napking map. Because it is my belief that in life we must either laugh or lose our minds, I choose to believe that this is a sign of hardcore-ness. Whats more, the manual is spiral-bound and accounts for a good 60-80% of the package weight. (Bigger is better. *wink*) I'd say the only bad thing about Neverwinter is the fact that you guys just won't see me much anymore. I get immersed like that. Shit, kids. Look on the bright side. How could I possibly update any less than this? Being off the net, or on it with a shitty "computer," has made me long all the more for the dorms. Yes, dorms sweet dorms. You're noisy, dirty, overcrowded, and piss drunk at 9 am 3 days out of 5, but you have a t3, and I love you. Fuck you, Lennon; all I need is broadband. I may tie off with a 10/100 cable and shoot up sweet luscious bandwidth, but in withdrawal I'm as feral as any heroine-happy toothless street jetsam that ever vomited on your tombstone in a stuporous carnival of jonesing.
But let us not project our anger onto those, such as John Lennon, who have literally nothing to do with anything we're talking about. Let us rather blame the guilty: puppies. Those sonsofbitches. OMGROFLMAOLOLOLKTXEGLEAUIGH;EFART.
Now its time to say "konyets" before I really lose it utterly. It's one of those things that you get more afraid of when you realize you haven't seen it yet. Good night, Hubert. Amber is the color of your urine samples, now and forever after, amen.
More Fun Than a Barrell of Plague - 6/21/02
adamdst: i dont know how to spell the damn thing
Voltron1181: that makes you less of a man
adamdst: no, what makes me less of a man is the fact that my penis is only 2 inches
Mead Is For Alcholic Bees - 6/20/02
Voltron1181: lets make fun of other english-speaking nationalities
Glovebox Joe: god damn fucking spain
Glovebox Joe: SHIT
Glovebox Joe: STUPID STUPID STUPID
Dead Birds - 6-8-02
Here I am at work on my own. Goin down the only- yeah so anyway. It's a pretty sweet job if you can get it. Do veritably nothing. Make a highly competitive wage. Read and fart around as 8 hours of leisure pass you by. Pilfer snacks. Aaaah, the life of the graveyard shift security guard.
I'm learning JavaScript. I may or may not have some big plans. You'll see. Or not. It depends.
Amusing things I saw/overheard today:
- A midget grandmother telling her granddaughter "Don't cry, we're doing BIG GIRL stuff today!!"
- A bearded Mucko-esque looking man explaining the concept of a were-mouse to his friend outisde Borders
- A Jesus pamphlet on the urinal at borders. On, not in, which would have been better by far.
NEPACheese... I think...
Shine on you crazy diamonds, whatever light it is you're refracting.
Strips when I'm online at home again. Soon, but I don't know when.
Hindsight's 20/20, but I really ought to have peed on that brochure.
Rabbit-Rabbit, Motherfuckers - 6-01-02
So I moved home. Just for the summer that is.
One disheartening consequence of this has been the unuse of my personal computer, and the subjecting of me by others to the family Mac, which has stood resolute in the darker corners of our den since the halcyon days of pogs and slap bracelets. Even the Shelob and her bulbous brood had abandoned the beige monolith, forsaking their once-great city of web for greener or at the very least more fly-blown pastures. Now I do that which, from a mac, I may; that however is precious little. I don't have the tools to make strips on it, and I refuse to update my page from one.
How then am I writing this, you might ask. If you cared I mean, that's all. Well the answer, unbidden and unwelcome, is that I'm at work now. Which is a tidy segue into (somewhat) more important news: I got a job that pays $3 more and involves a mere fraction of the work. Case in point, here I am updating my page on the job. If I can get more shifts, then may the loose bowel movements rain down upon Filenes, as I roughly violate its mother.
I'm starting to make some gay/bi friends. Yes, believe it or not the addition of companionship in my life may for once not be summarily out of the question. Hello Paul. ^___^
Wish me well, oh gentle reader.
I have considered learning to cook things. I don't want to go into detail on the net (IM me and I'll tell you all about my bowels, for for garwsh sakes not here!) but my all pizza and pizza by-product (pizza rolls, pepperoni hot pockets, et al) diet isn't doing wonders for the day to day function of the far too-well oiled biomachine that is m to tha e, not to mention my already sub-exemplary figure. Well back to the point. I love Indian. I thought I might by some premade sauce and try my hand at it.
Are there too many diarrhea references in this post?
"Frankly, one is too many sir."
Amen Smithers. Among the many things I roll around in my head lately is things to do with leisure time. I've got ever so much of it, and nothing to do unless you count all that stuff that I really ought to be doing. Instead I focus my thoughts on opportunities to waste valuable time. Both of the vacation and the in-state nature. Weezer is coming. And so is Area 2 (Moby, David Bowie, Blue Man Group). Its expensive stuff though. Cheaper is hitting the gala Joe/Katy/Brandon/Samn/Joz/Eleventy-nine other webmeistros extravaganzal fantastaglorium late this summer. Unfortunately, the scheduling doesn't work for me; I'll be in Ocean City Maryland, one of the sexiest little resort towns this side of some other sexier one. And I did so want to meet you all, too. Damn it all. Well maybe my friend Scott's birthday shebang? If I can get ahold of the little bastard anyway. He lives in Ohio. Like a little bastard. Who lives in Ohio. And of course there's always the constant search for "that special someone." *coughjimmyhoffacough*
Whatever the fuck! Life goes on in spite of me. Stupid life. And frankly, at the end of the day that sentiment is probably the universal common denominator of the human experience. It's like a friend of mine used to say: "Life is like a gestating fetus: it makes your breasts tender and then its father leaves you and it takes three hours to suck it out of your birth canal with a hoover shop vac." I bid you good-morrow, denizens of the web. It's time to check in once more.
Sad News, Glad Tidings - 5-08-02
Yet another legend passes into the annals of history today. The once and former PLIF has been canceled. It was a tearful day, as many of the worlds webniks mourned the passing of what was easily one of the most hilarious things on the whole entire internet. The archives are to remain up indefinitely, so that we can still look pack of posts of yesteryear and remember. I, for one, wish they had ended with something a little more quality than the weird existential sock puppet drama. Something that belittled a cherished institution or made light of suffering, tragedy, and depravity; and above all, something that was subtley frightening in a brazenly hilarious way. Something PLIFFY.
With that said, today is also the day that I go back to my roots and start writing comic strips again. I've done some thinking and I've decided that they're the only reason this pathetic site has any right to occupy space or attention on the web. I know what your thinking: is this guy so presumptuous as to imply that he's the phoenix rising from the ashes of PLIF??! Well... YES. Yes I am.
No I'm not.
But I do think that new and improved comics are good and important news for my site. And that, if anything, is the sort of thing that belongs on my writing page. (I feel bad about calling this a blog now; I always labored under the delusion that I was E/N, and realizing that I'm just a weblog makes me feel dirty and wrong inside.) At any rate, go forth and read of them. They are new in a way, and old in a way, and funny in a way.
Supplementary Post - 5-07-02
Glovebox Joe: his power would be bacon.
Voltron1181: bacon tendrils encompass the enemy
Voltron1181: he'd still kick mati's ass
Glovebox Joe: yeah
Voltron1181: but then, a guy with the power of "puppet immolation facility" would kick mati's ass
Voltron1181: "All I can do is burn puppets, but at least I didn't get 'heart.'"
Glovebox Joe: hahaha
Voltron1181: it'd be just like regular captain planet, except he'd occasionally go "ohmygod, a puppet!" and set it on fire
And It Turned Out There Was A Guy Under All That Hair.. - 5-07-02
Hey hey hey! Who likes mental telepathy? Fat Albert gonna do his thang tonight fo y'all, so just sit back, chill a minnit, and enjoy the show, dawg! Now y'all might not know it, but Fat Albert got all sorts 'a extrasens'ry perceptions 'n voodoo 'n magic and shit that just cain't be explained. And ta' prove it to y'all, t'night I'm gonna focus on the ladies in the audience, and I'm gonna use my arcane occult-like powers ta' lookit they panties.
Mm-mm, Tanice! Baby you got them frilly thangs on, all cottony and light blue.. that's right girl, Fat Albert kin see it all. Lookit how they hug yo booty; lookit tha booty roll aroun', all supple and tender like a cow heart fresh from tha butcher! Aaaw, you like black butta', shug. An' not like the kind I found in the fridge the other day and ate and almost died.
Ooh, baby! Latonya you got it goin ON with that pink satin thong! Unf-unf-shabomp-shabayazz, if ya' get ma' drift, baby. Fat Albert sees how they ride up yo' sweet sweet boo-tay; Uh huh, you all that an' a bucket a' honey barbecue chicken: sweet, dark, and I could eat you all up on my couch at three am during a Battlestar Galactica Marathon.
Oh ma gawd... I see right throuh you, Shaniqua, an you ain't got no panties on atall! Woooooo darlin, it's like a cherry pie down there sweet thang: crusty on the outside, red 'n sticky on the inside. Girly girly GIRL! Take a bath, baby. Fat Albert see all, an' sometimes he see too much!
Movin' right along, I can see- uh oh, Fat Albert sees the po po comin to arrest him for doin his lewd an' disgustin' act. That means it's time ta' sign off boys n girls. It be time ta' run, if I can do so without explodin' ma' clogged n' shriveled heart. Later y'all!!
Date:
Time: 5-8 pm
Place: Hatch Shell, Boston
Lineup: Patti Smith, Susanne Vega, TMBG
Cost: FREE, MOTHERFUCKERS.
The name of the game is Riverfest 2002. Don't miss it.
While We're Nostalgializing... - 5-04-02
Well I'll be damned. Check out the old and improved VT. It reminds me of the old days, it does. When men were men and women were also men. And the children? They were Were-Donkeys of some kind. Not the finest hour for human offspring, but certainly the finest and then some for my E/N Alma Mater. It got me to thinking about how I used to write for schmeckle.com back in the day, (That's right, no link. It got voted of the internet by the Tribal Council.)and in the midst of my remeniscence (I refuse to look up the proper spelling.) I found a piece I did on the Weekly World News. A piece so very bad that it was deemed unfit for Schmeckle when it was still up and running. But now I am the High and Holy Aardvark, goo goo gajoob, of this little flea circus and am under no obligation to consider the feelings of anyone else in any way whatsoever when I make decisions. I like it that way. But then, who doesn't. With no further ado, I give you a homebaked slice of hindsight with whipped retrospect topping.
"CANNIBAL COOKOFF: JUNGLE CHEFS SERVE UP THE WORLD'S MOST REVOLTING RECIPES!"
In Port Morseby, Papua New Guinea an elderly cannibal chef named Sami Tanjung has just won the grand prize at a cookoff for cannibals held by some unnamed Australian TV production company. Jungle savages from across the world came to compete, but Tanjung swept the judges with a unanimous vote for his honey glazed rump roast. Yes, HE COOKED UP SOME ASS. And he won a fine little bounty for his culinary prowess. A trophy, $10,000, a year's supply of barbecue sauce, and an eleven volume set of cookbooks. Odd, you'd think that the winner of a cooking contest wouldn't have much need for cookbooks.
Apparently the bum-bum is quite a gourmet treat. "They say a lot of the entries basically tasted a bit like chicken," says executive producer Dan Masterson, "while Tanjung's was really lip-smacking." Oh, I'll bet. "The buttocks, which are rich in tasty fat," Tanjung claims, "have always been a delicacy among my people. The glaze was my idea." So... if he pours honey on someone's ass it's a prizewinning delicacy, but if I do it it's a sex crime? Talk about injustice.
Not everyone is amused by the idea of a cannibal cookoff. Sister Josephina, a Spanish missionary, says that "The producers are exploiting indigenous peoples and encouraging parctices we've been trying to eradicate for decades." Masterson, however, claims that there was no wrongdoing. The contestants supplied their own meat for the occasion and were allowed to simply "do their own thing." "It's educational and great entertainment," he says. Thank goodness we live in a world where we can appreciate the educational value of cannibalism. Pretty much anything a kid can memorize and repeat later passes for educational these days. Snuff films, Cheech and Chong movies, seizure-inducing poorly-animated japanese nationalism-inducing mythical creatures that kill each other [not sure what I was referring to. --ed], all these things are obviously educational as well, and worth exposing the children of the world to. If any of this remotely resembled anything that has ever happened I might be outraged by that comment.
Ok, now for what you know damn well is the only reason you read this article:
THE RECIPE!
- Slice off buttocks. (It's that easy!)
- Mix 2 cups of honey with a pinch of ginger and 1/4 cup of orange peels. Squeeze in one lemon.
- Coat buttocks generously. (As difficult as it is, I'll let that pass uncommented upon.)
- Cover, place in oven.
- Cook at 450 degrees for 90 minutes.
You have every right to ask when strips will start being made again. That doesn't mean I'll answer you, of course....
In all seriousness, soon. I just have to get off the lazy arse and make it happen.
Do Svidanya, Don't Get Any On Ya'.
PS: If you saw a secret Disney reference in this post, email me and I'll make my site one big link to yours for a day.
My Hatred of You Burns Like the Oceans of Petrol that Lap the Shores of Hell - 5-3-02
In the year of their Lord two thousand and two, on May the third at approximately zero hundred hours, the following conversation transpired, and if I lie to you may my scrotum be filled with carpenter bees:
- Dickhead: (after a great deal of obnoxious sighing and loud rolling around in bead) [Volty] am I gonna have to tell you every night to turn that tv down?
Volty: Its the same volume it always is. [which is very low --ed]
Dickhead: If you had any common courtesy you wouldn't even be watching it!
- "Do I have to TELL you every night to turn that tv down?" - No, indeed don't bother.
- It was just fucking turning midnight. If I read his statement correctly, I apparently am rude for watching Seinfeld and the Simpsons at 11 and 11:30. If there's anything about my daily routine that no fucking way will I give up, it would be my 7/730 and 11/1130 showings of Seinfeld and the Simpsons. No amount of bitching can ever change my mind about that. Stick it where your head is, roomie. I hope you read this too. Those of you who really know me know that I'm wont to stay up each night until about 9 am the next day, but nonetheless. It was only midnight. If he bitched like that at around 1 or later, and even 1 is kinda early to go to bed, then I might consider his words. But by telling me its "common courtesy" to have lights out at 12 o-fucking-clock, he lost any respect I might ever have had for his position on any subject. Because the guy just has no perspective at all. No one in college goes to bed at 11. No one.
- Last and finally, I am kind of torturing him and he ought to have noticed by now that when he whines like a little bitch I don't listen. Those of you who need to know why I would want to make him miserable already do, and its not something I want to discuss on the internet.
So instead how about this: they arrested Shanley! Wooters to those who are trying to stamp "KONYETS" on this whole affair. As for Shanley himslef, well to put it succinctly: "In prison he'll be the pie."
As part of my little effort to use humor to assuage the pangs of anxiety people are feeling over the recent unocovering of this massive sex abuse tragedy, I have created a limited edition piece of humorous apparel to commemorate these trying times. Behold:
THE SHIRT
Did I go too far?
I think these recent events just go to show people what I've always believed, and that is that organized religion is wrong, whether you believe in Christ like I don't or not. Why? Because the tendency is for church officials to focus on serving the institution and not the deity. Look at Cardinal Law. If he were truly a man dedicated to the service of God he would have exposed the horrible abuse to protect the children. Instead he looked to what was best for the church, as nearly all members of it do, and now we have this mess. Personally I hate any religion that calls upon its members to convert others and to fight for its glory. This means Christianity and Islam, mainly. Yes, Christianity is bad news kids. Read the book where your truths of love and justice are supposed to be found. You just might find something like this, this, or this. Oh yeah, words of wisdom.
It should be noted that while I hate the religion, I don't hate Christians, except in a Swiftian misanthropy sort of way.
Man this was one long ass post.
Glomp : 5-1-02
Well damned if it didn't happen just as I said it would. Bill said Big Gay Phil was a bit miffed at my not-thereness, but I still work at Filenes. My question to you, oh loyal reader, is: knowing this, did it turn out well or didn't it?
Speaking of that, a coworker got arrested and fired recently for cruising the Dooberbloob Highway in the parking lot (You wacky stoners. Will you ever learn?) and... AND... AAANDDD... they found gism in the fitting room from where a couple got their fuck on, wiped it up with some merchandise, and ran. Classy.
You know what pisses me off? Homophones. What the fuck is up with them, anyway? Where do they get off? I hope no one really thinks they can get away with that shit in modern society, cuz nobody's going to fucking put up with it. That kind of hate just doesn't fly. Knight and night? Bear and bare, what the shit is that helling fuck?? Fucking homphones.
I'm plenty accepted into the school's art program, I just have to ditch the advising flag and call in my classes. Sweet sweet corn on the candy cob. My god, I've just created the best phallic metaphor ever!
Fnort : 4-29-02
I did something interesting these past 2 days. I slept through work. Didn't call in, didn't make up some lame illness, didn't go. They never called me. I mean, sometimes they ignore when I'm late but when I don't show up alltogether? That's a bit odd. I can only guess that my role at the company is SO insignificant, and my wage SO PATHETICALLY INCONSEQUENTIAL, that as long as they're not paying me to stay at home they don't really give a crap if I show or not. I'll put this to the test when I go in tomorrow. I might just be fired. Shit I hope not. Heh.
I expressed an interest in Katy's get-together internet webmaster conference thing. Now that it's been expanded to include five states worth of goons, that is. Heh.
I had some interesting times tonight in chat with Katy, along with Brandon, Lemur, and America's sweetheart, the one and only Jeebs. We got right down to the deep issues of society as we know it, such as vaginas full of centipedes and stores called Dykes Lumber. We never got around to D&D, but really, who ever does? It takes so friggin long just to make characters. Once you have the group of friends together its only natural that we'd get a little.. sidetracked. Eh, twas fun.
Just When You Think You're Down.. : 4-27-02
Ok, well I saw Mr. Lewis Black Thursday night, as I may have told some (all) of you. Let me say that it was absolutely kick ass for two big buttery voluptuous sexy reasons: 1) The guy, obviously, is hi-goddamn-larious. My favorite line has to be "touching the penis of the hound." The other more material reason is that I was able to get this:
A damp atm receipt may not summon a large fee on auction, but my plan is
to keep it as memorabelia anyway. Good fucking stuff.
More good news for me: I talked to the chair of the art dept. and putting my portfolio
together won't be any big deal. It's pretty informal, they just want to see where I stand
in terms of artistic ability. Talk about a load off.
In other news, the L in TLC and America's favorite little arsonist Lisa Lefteye Lopez is
diggty dead. She died in a car accident while vacationing in Honduras. Yes, you heard
correctly, VACATIONING... in HONDURAS. Who vacations in Honduras? What is there to see?
Where do you stay? What brings you there? Is it the siren-like call of squalid tenament
housing? Is it the prevalence of gastrointestinal disease? Blatherskeit, Queefsters. Her
"vacation" was obviously a last dance with Mary Jane. Well not to sound too
evil, if there is such a thing, but to her death I say "Meh." Yet another bad
artist has died. It's sad when anyone dies, but I certainly hope this won't spark another
situation like the Allyah debacle that VT had to put up with. It does concern me a little to see musicians
dropping off like flies. This is a bit much right after Layne Staley's fetid corpse, whose
music fyi I have no problem with, was discovered. Live hard and die sloppy, that's the
motto of the entertainers of our time. Fine, fine, rockstars, you silly gooses. But some
of you have to live, you know. Kinda hard for us to rock on when all the rockers are dead.
Seems to me you live your lives like magnesium fires in the wind. Ya burns hot and fast,
and all too soon ya runs outta fuel and leaves us hanging, sometimes literally. Nirvana
had some pretty ardent fans, after all. My bottom line? A lot of us, albeit not me, will
miss the recently departed a lot, and I'd like to take this opportunity to invite all our
great, or frankly in the case of Lefteye not-so-great, musicians to stick around. We need
you guys. We do. To get through our days, to make the songs that we indentify ourselves
and the times of our lives with, just to entertain us once in a while. Now seriously, stop
dying, you fuckers.
New Layout : 4-24-02
All right guys. Here's my final draft of the Donkey Queef Official Website Layout for the
time being. Of course being me and all I'll get sick of it in a few months and change it
again, but what matters is that I like it now.
Well fuck the universe. Yes I'm having some problems, so nice of you to ask. Here it is
plain and simple, like the cotton sundress I fuck your mom in. I'm trying to switch my
major to graphic design from MIS so that I can build me a portfolio with which to transfer
to RIT. The problem? I need to already
HAVE some sort of portfolio just to transfer. Sucks ass all right. I don't know what I can
do to make it work out, but I had best find something pdq since well, you know, EVERYTHING
depends on it. :S Hopefully this turns out to be the good kind of stress that gets you off
your ass and not the bad kind that makes you depressed and anxious. I'll be funny when
next I update; obviously right now I'm not in the mood. Enjoy the layout, and again I'll
be less of a downer when next you hear from me.