The Et cetera Network

****The Et cetera Network****Bedroom Inventorium****The Best English Words****A Bit of Prose****Brief Biographies of My Peers****A Chain of Links Worth Visiting****Chronicles of An Employee****Click Here to Waste Your Time****Commentary On Statements I Hear Sometimes****The Evolution of the Species****The Funniest Things I've Heard This Year****Imoods That Should Exist But Don't****Mock Dictionary****Quips and Quotations of My Own****Quotables****Silence is Golden****Some Random Blasphemy****Succedaneum Fairy Tales****Survey****A Variety of Images****Visual Conundrums****The WebCam****The Worst English Words****

Introduction, etc.
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  1. Let me tell you about this little webpage. You may have already noticed that it is quite sloppy and unpleasant to look at. And you know why that is? Because even though I did learn HTML, I care not to include it here, for the results of all that work have cons which outweigh the pros. Sure, I might decide to change that later and throw in some minor HTML just for organization value, but other than that, it will be a sloppy page that no one will want to read because of their initial impression.

    Now, about the actual content of the page: I have no clue what I'm gonna write in here. I figured et cetera to be a decent name, because there really isn't much better a title. Perhaps I'll make it out to be like a journal. A date every once in awhile distinguishing when I write. Actually, no. That's not a good idea at all. Instead, I will just put a line or something like that to separate entries. Yes, that sounds fine. All in all, it will probably be loosely based on the "some ramblings" section of Lindsey Wiebe's page. I would put a link to it here, but I explained what I feel about HTML today, yes?

    Well, gee, I do think it would seem a little more proper to have a teensy-weensy section of this article that at least tells something about who I am. And because the contents of the page are pretty random, it would most definitely fit no matter where I put it. However, I'm not going to write much about myself. There's an e-mail link at the bottom, written in white, that can easily be put to use if anyone is truly that curious about who I am. In fact, that address doesn't even distinguish my being male or female. Which is good. I like it that way. I greatly prefer an intriguing deception over the standard "a/s/l" internet that we live in. Of course, there are easy ways that you, the reader, could find out about who I am. One would be to run a search on ICQ for that particular e-mail address written in white. You'll end up with user 20235766 and a bunch of information. Then, using that information, you could just as easily search for that same screen name on AOL Instant Messenger. You're bound to find some more information there. Or, like I said, you could just send an e-mail questionnaire if you're that curious. Actually, in all likelihood, the person reading this already knows who I am and this entire paragraph was a worthless, time-consuming mess. Take Lindsey, for example. For some reason, I believe she'll read this before anyone else I know. Not to mention before anyone else I don't know. In fact, I would be greatly surprised if a random someone stumbled across this page and actually read it. There's so much wasted internet space as it is. There's no way someone will accidentally find this page. It's not even that interesting. Well, at least not yet.

    I'm sure that after this entry, there will eventually be several more and slowly my identity's deception will be revealed. Not that it matters if the only people reading the page are those that I am already acquainted with. Originally I thought that this deception was a waste of time if no strangers would read up on my entries. Then I thought logically and figured that this deception means that I don't have to bother with telling people about myself. Less work. People oughta do this more often. The world wide web would be a whole lot more interesting if nobody knew who anyone was.

    Now, about the formatting of this page (even though there is virtually none). What I have is a very simple mess of words. Occasionally there is a page break which indicates a change in paragraph. I'm just not going to bother with indentations; if it bothers you that much, copy, paste and do it yourself. Now, as for the indication of a change in entries (these changes occurring for any piece of writing not done in one sitting, but not necessarily on a different day. I may write another entry later on this evening and then two page breaks will appear, thus leaving a gap in between the two entries. So, whenever there is a gap in this monster block of text, you'll know that the content of that particular entry has ended, and begun once again at a different time.

    This is the part of the page introduction that is going to sound very strange. If you are a perfect stranger, or someone I know for that matter, and you happen to catch a typographical error on my webpage somewhere, let me know. It seems obscure coming from a person who refuses to format their own website properly. It's just that grammatical errors, spelling errors and typographical errors really bother me. Paragraph indents and proper page breaks, however, do not.
  2. These past few days, I have been on the internet a great deal more than my usual habits. Which is strange, because as of lately I keep thinking that there is very little consistent entertainment on this vast web of absolute crap. It must be the communication. I do enjoy such dandy little programs as ICQ, but in all honest truth, I prefer the telephone. It's a shame that these people can't just phone me without some kind of long distance charge. It makes communication a whole lot simpler and easier. Of course, the last time one of them did phone me, it ended up being an exuberant explosion of inimitably entertaining fun fun fun!! (kinda like watching paint dry) But I suppose that it is because there was really no subject line to the conversation. She just phoned for the sake of phoning. That's a mistake right there. Perhaps it would've been more valuable had there been something to talk about. Like a pre-planned conversation. Well, not necessarily planned, but at least having a reason for the call. Of course, I'm being a little bit contradictory to my own theory because I come on the internet to talk to people lately, but I have no idea what to talk about.

    I just threw in a CD that I didn't expect to recognize the sounds of: Heart-Greatest Hits. I wasn't too clear on this band's music until the first few songs. Greatest Hits albums tend to do that a lot with bands you don't know existed. Anyway, the first track "Barracuda" was easily recognizable. I would describe it in text, but that's a really inefficient form of communication. Then that second track, Silver Wheels is about 1:20 worth of some excellent acoustic guitar. Then "Crazy On You" and "Straight On." That fourth track is playing now. So I'll proceed with writing and let you know if I recognize anymore of this strangely foreign album.

    Ever had sparkling Jello? It doesn't sparkle, but it has that carbonated taste. I just thought I'd mention that. I had a dish the other day and it's really quite good. A little more complicated to make than the standard Jello in a box, but worth the minute extra effort.

    Hmmmm...don't think I recognize this one. "Dreamboat Annie." Seems pretty strange. Reminds me of Simon & Garfunkel's "I Am A Rock." Don't ask me why, because truly everything reminds of that song lately. Most of the time, I don't put my thoughts into a duo like Simon & Garfunkel. I really should get that checked out.

    You know what I am really tired of? People on the internet who seem to think they're insane. In all of their transcripts, people are constantly mentioning how messed in the head they are. People! Get it through your heads! You're not crazy. Insane people belong in pillowed rooms. I swear, some people are gonna trick themselves into believing it if they say it one more time.

    While on the subject of strange people, I feel I should mention my idea for a university course. Maybe if I post it on the internet, someone might pay attention and give it some credit. Stalkers 101. Think of what people could do with a course like this! It's revolutionary. Stalkers get plenty of jobs on the streets of your standard American city and are paid well. I say, why not make a course out of it? I'm sure it'd be packed with willing students. What better way to get them interested in education than fancy spy equipment? Plus, it could be upgradable to Stalkers 201 and Stalkers 301. After all, there's plenty of things to learn.

    Here's an interesting song by Heart. "Magic Man." Perhaps you've heard it. That whole 'try try try to understand' bit is quite recognizable. I just noticed something about this album. They have a live cover of "Long Tall Sally" by Robert Plant, and a Led Zeppelin song in their tablature of Greatest Hits. They say it's a tribute to John Bonham (Zeppelin's drummer; died of asphyxiation in 1980). It's a fitting tribute I suppose because it certainly sounds challenging to play.
  3. Why do I even wake up in the morning? I know that sounds strangely suicidal, but that's not what I mean. I mean that there is truly no logic in waking up in the morning. Why don't I just wake up in the afternoon like everyone else? I'll use today as an example. I just got up about a half hour ago, roughly 9:00, had a shower, came downstairs, had breakfast and then stood up from the table thinking, "Now what do I do?" None of my friends are up yet. That makes it really boring in the morning. I have to wait till after 12:00 to find anyone to do something with. Oh, but wait! Summer school!! I just about forgot about that...They have a break at about 10:00! Well, geez, maybe I'll pop over there. When I get back, I'll continue to bitch and complain if you have no objections.
  4. I just thought of what this page might be good for. Suppose someone comes on-line looking for me (fat chance!) and they're trying to figure out where I am (fatter chance!). Well, perhaps they'd take the time to come to this page (really packin' on the pounds now!) and check what I have last written and that may very well indicate where I am. It won't work all the time, or even most of the time, but hey, I've had worse ideas. Today, I'll probably be right here at the computer doing nothing if anyone is wondering (boomerang now required to put on belt).
  5. Good news: I have pretty well finished completing my ability to play Supertramp's "Crime of the Century" on the piano. Took quite some time and there's still a few bugs I have to work out. Like that fingering on the weird part right in the beginning; I swear it just can't be done smoothly. Anyway, if you don't know what song I'm talking about, I do recommend it. In fact, if you really want, send me an e-mail and I'll give it to you. Not that anyone will because those who would care will never ever stumble across this page.
  6. Moron! Moron! Moron! I think I'm gonna have to correct myself on the above comment of Heart's supposed live cover of "Long Tall Sally" by Robert Plant. Robert Plant never sang that song. I'm getting it confused with "Tall Cool One." Geez, where was I on that one?

    Bored! Bored! Bored! Nobody's around right now. Friend at an eye appointment, friend at work, friend at amusement park, other friend at amusement park, friend in Victoria and friend in 'I have no idea.' That's all I need heading into the weekend: all my friends decide to waltz their way into the Bermuda triangle. Makes for a boring Saturday afternoon.

    For some reason, I feel like telling bits and pieces of the Andrea & Richard story. Nothing too significant, because in all likelihood, the person reading already knows the Andrea & Richard story. Actually, it is more commonly referred to as "Toast." So if you ever hear me talk about Toast, that means the Andrea & Richard story and/or situation. Actually, I don't feel much like telling the whole story; just the rose bit from yesterday. You see, Richard and I were on the bus and he had mentioned quite some time ago (long before Toast) that he wanted to buy a single long-stemmed rose for someone, but he didn't know who to give it to. Well, since Toast arose, the answer was obvious, although he didn't have any money on him at the time. Reluctant to take the twenty-dollar bill I had handed to him, it did take quite a bit of convincing before the stubborn little bastard would actually take the money. So I guess on the grander scale, I bought the rose, but don't tell Andrea that. Ruins the significance. Anyway, there was actually a lot of trouble in finding a single long-stemmed rose. The florist at that grocery store didn't have it and we couldn't find another florist anywhere. You know where we ended up getting it? Mac's convenience store. I mean really now. I suppose there could've been a classier purchasing place, but with very little options and very little time, it was ideal. The rose went over well, yada yada yada, I don't feel like talkin' about it anymore.

    Now what do I about nothing.
  7. I'm gonna throw in some HTML here. Ever take's purity test? It's an excellent little questionnaire. Anyway, this is what thinks of my purity:

    No beef? Try upgrading your browser.

    Hey, at least I'm passing.

    Oh, and by the way, those little captions on my lovely award there are NOT things I have done, but they are random answers to Question 100 of the test, which asks you to sum up the craziest thing you've ever done. You'll come up with some interesting answers if you refresh this page a number of times. ;-)
  8. Extremely tired today. Since I last wrote I've worked about 21 hours in the past two days. Yuck. However, during this time, I've been thinking about this worthless webpage and how disappointed I am in it. It's definitely not funny enough. There is no way that someone will look at this and stay interested without a dosage of humour here and there. I think it's been quite boring so far, although I've been told differently by a somewhat unreliable source. Anyway, I was comparing what I have on this webpage to the random ramblings I wrote on graph paper in my excessively boring Tourism course. Those things were only funny because I complained about stuff in them, though. It seems that the greatest hits of comedy come out of bitching about life. How do you think racism got started? Some guy from Detroit was jealous because of this other guy's unfathomable tan so he made fun of him until each and every one of his race ran away down to the south. And they're still there to this day...

    The CD I'm listening to is almost over. That really pisses me off. I have to take that CD out when it is over, which is not a problem at all. However, I also have to put in another CD because no music drives me up the wall sometimes. In order to get this other CD, I would have to get up from this oh so comfortable chair. No! I won't have it! I'll stick around here for least until the disc is done. Which is in about 1˝ songs away. Then comes the next paradox: what do I put in next? I don't want something too heavy, or too light. I want to stay awake but I want to be able to hear myself think. I'm thinking Collective Soul--but they can be pretty heavy at times. Supertramp would be really good but that's all the way upstairs and forget that. It's hard enough to crawl over to the other side of the basement without crying about how tired I am right now. Maybe I just need a diaper change. I'll get back to you on that.

    To my left is an incredible waste of money, not that money really concerns me, but my mother decided that she needed to make some certificates on the computer for her piano students. So she decides that it would be nice to decide upon some paper for these certificates. Then she decides that maybe some fancy paper would be the right decision. So...she decides to purchase 800 sheets of certificate paper. Most of which are multi-coloured. They look like a stack of two-dimensional easter egg rectangles. It's gonna be years before all those are used. We don't have eggs at breakfast often enough as it is.

    The pencil is an amazing invention. I credit this guy Mr. Pencil for his works. Have you ever actually thought of the ingenuity of this structure. A cylindrical shaft of graphite runs down the centre, surrounded by a similar protective coat of wood. Seems simple enough, but it does seem useless. Enter the sharpener. The sharpener is like a small "cone-tainer" for the pencil with a similar radius as that of the pencil as a whole. Except, because the blade and container of the sharpener is cone-shaped, the twisting of the pencil against the blade causes the cylindrical writing utensil to take the shape of the sharpener very slowly. As the cylinder is twisted further and further, a cone forms at the end of the pencil which is as large as the depth of the sharpener. When it reaches the lowest point in the cone sharpener, you are left with a sharpened pencil. Because the graphite cylinder is in the centre, it is what forms the very end of the cone shape left on the pencil, followed by the wood. Therefore, the wood does not interfere with the graphite writing. That's amazing! What an incredible invention! It's got more complicated mechanics than a ballpoint pen. I could compare the two, but I don't want anyone sitting at their computer to try hanging themselves or something out of sheer boredom. (If you've done so already, I feel I should let you know that you can come down now)

    Well, I put in Eric Clapton Unplugged. Pretty mellow. He's playing Layla. It just doesn't work on an acoustic guitar. Wait a minute, this isn't Layla! Aw hell, it doesn't work anyways.

    Damn I wish there was someone to talk to online right now. It's boring to have to sit here and rant on and on about the mechanics of pencils and certificate paper and other insignificant melodramatic shards of absolute crap. Ah, there's Layla. Well, I feel like leaving the computer right now, even though that will be equally as boring. Somebody phone me! Hey, that's not a bad idea. I'll leave my phone number for any random stranger who feels like phoning me right now. I don't care what time it is, just give me a call. 403-607-9173. Wait a minute, you'll have to pay long distance charges...geez, there's always a catch. Ah well, I'll leave my number anyway. Of course, you'll have no clue who to ask for if you're a perfect stranger so it'll be that much more confusing. I'll just answer the phone, how about that? Wait a minute, why am I even making this offer? Oh yeah, I'm bored. Well, whatever. The number's up there. I'll probably be hanging myself if you call. [Phone the stranger offer valid only on July 27, 2000...That means, if you phone me tomorrow with this offer, I'll hunt you down and kill you. Actually, I probably won't be home. But my mom will take the message and I gave her the key to the weapons cabinet]
  9. Well, it's August. Hooray! August actually is my favourite month. It seems very "grey" in colour to me. Don't take that expression wrong either. I often describe things in colour. This doesn't mean that everything black is evil and dark and everything pink is fluffy and pretty. It's just a way I describe things. For example, I find that "Bowfinger" is an extremely orange film. Sort of brown, but it's a light shade of brown along side the orange. "Romeo and Juliet" is multicoloured. Lots of colours apply to its diversity. My computer is being quite teal lately. Why does it have to be so teal? I don't know. My telephone, although white in colour, is described as an interesting variation of French Green. Banjos are a wood colour, cell phones have a striking touch of yellow to them and I really can't think of how to describe the characteristic hue of sunglasses.
  10. Wow, haven't written anything on here in awhile. Well, at least I haven't written anything wholesome on here in awhile. Okay, I've never written anything wholesome on here. Anyone who has read it all has not learned a thing I'm sure. If I knew anything about quantam physics, I might try to teach you something on this page. Well, not likely. Right now I feel like typing something on here but I'm not sure what to do. Oh well. I find that the most interesting material comes out of improvising a text entry.

    I know what I need to do right now. I need to put in some CDs. Of course, I don't think my parents would approve. They dislike it when I turn off their radio. While on the subject of radio, I'm sick and tired of really fake songs. Wait a minute, did I already write something about this? Oh, I don't care. Actually, I don't want to talk about that anymore. I've grown weary of having to compare the Backstreet Boys to the traditional throat singing tribes of Uganda.

    This website sucks. I'm not liking it at all. I didn't exactly create it for it to be a great webpage or anything but I expected that I could at least come up with some worthwhile content. It seems that every time I try to write about something remotely creative, however, I lose the ability to dispel interesting information. I have to get into the swing of things and make this webpage better. *thinking noises*

    Just so I can get this off my back, I will have to start by saying that, assuming that the Infinite Universe theory is fact, there is no time. There is only time relative to change. That's a two-sentence summation to about a five hour conversation. I just felt as though I needed to write that down somewhere before I go insane with the possibility of it being wrong.

    So, do you know who screwed up? I am now changing the subject, by the way. The way I see it, some time early on in the history of the human race, possibly even in the Great Rift Valley where it all began, somebody screwed up. We're so stupid--this being just the human civilization in general. Individually, I have no problem with anyone. But on that general level of thinking, I dislike my own species. As a friend of mine once put it, "I'm not a racist. I just hate everybody." Now, I don't want to be misunderstood for an environmentalist or something when I start complaining about the human race, but how stupid is it to dump our garbage and toxic stuff into the ocean. That's wonderful. This is the kind of stupidity that I am positive came up early on in the human race. Look at religion. It's been around for thousands of years and the only reason it is still around it because it warped people early on in humanity's history. Stupidity back then is passed on in a sort of hereditary manner. Steadily, we have gotten smarter...but not by much. Jehova's Witnesses are a good example of this.

    Occasionally, I do like to look at some of the smarter things that we have come up with over time. The drum set is a fine example of a good invention by human beings. I think that it is put together qutie nicely. The combination of stretched canvas and cymbals for percussion make a wonderful instrument. And while on the subject of instruments, the guitar, and any other string instrument, is extremely creative. I'm positive that the first form of music was singing, be it good or bad. Someone decided to give each level of pitch a name and thus came the introduction of music's note system. So, when the idea for the guitar came up, they found out that by holding down the string at a different point along its length, the pitch gets higher. So, they made the frets on the guitar so that there would be something for the string to press against. A few careful measurements, and each fret could be representative of a note used in singing. Instruments steadily became more and more complicated and then they decided to combine them. Since then, there have been orchestras and bands and all of it is extremely complicated. Music is one of this civilization's good points.

    Now, onto something a little more stupid that spins off of the music industry. 8-track tapes. Do you know how stupid these things are? I mean, god!! How dim was the fool who made them up? For those of you that don't know how they work, the name of them pretty well says it all. Imagine an album with ten songs on it. Now, let's say this album has to be recorded in 8-track format. 8-track tapes work like this: There are 8 tracks and every single track has to be the exact same length. So, let's say that the set length for the tracks are 5 minutes each. Now, our ten-song album has to be divided into eight tracks somehow. That means that the ninth and tenth songs will have to be squeezed onto the eighth track somehow. That means that you'll have to fit tracks 8, 9 and 10 onto the eighth track, which is only five minutes in length. Well, that probably won't work out. Geez, what if track 10 is 8˝ minutes long? Then what? Well, then track ten will have to be divided between the 7th and 8th tracks on the tape, having five minutes of the tenth song on the seventh track and the remaining 3˝ minutes on the eighth track of the tape. Of course, this means that the ninth song has been bumped back to the sixth track on the 8-track tape. Before I erally complicate things, let's look at this from another point of view: if each track is a maximum of five minutes in length, these eight tracks add up to a forty-minute album. Well, what if the total length of out ten-track album is longer than forty minutes? You know what those geniuses who made the eight-track system decided on doing? Well, if that's the case, the album will simply be two tapes in length. This applies even if the ten-track album of ours is about forty-two minutes. So there is a full forty minutes of music on one tape that belongs to the album, and the other tape consists of the remaining two minutes of the tenth song's 8˝ minutes, which has now been spread into three different tracks (7, 8, and 1 on the second tape). Of course, the sixth track on the first tape which had the ninth song probably now extends into the first few minutes of track 7 where the tenth song begins, and finally ends on the second tape, two minutes in, where there is 38 minutes of complete silence and seven other wasted tracks. Get it? Didn't think so. Anyway, that should at least give you an idea of what geniuses made the 8-track tape system. They obviously knew their math...

    Now, back to a good invention. Back in 1886, Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone (Minutes later he receives a call asking him to switch long-distance carriers). The telephone, although often overused, is one of the better ideas our race has had. Taking it back a little further, it is actually language that is the better invention. Language is the best form of communication and the ability to use language over lengthy distances is extremely useful. Well, unless you're deaf-mute, in which case I soon exepct to be giving credit a TV-Phone where sign language is extremely prevalent.

    Want another stupid human invention? Deely-boppers. Isn't that what they're called? Those queer little springy ear things on headband that people wore to parties in the fifties and for some reason they are still being sold?

    Maybe I should just a list a bunch of good inventions:

    -QWERTY Keyboard
    -shelled peanuts
    -cordless telephones
    -ballpoint pens

    Of course, you'll find that the above things are far outdone by the number of stupid inventions that we have come up with:

    -overhead projectors
    -beef jerky
    -Duke Nukem
    -The Antique Road Show
    -Dvorak keyboard
    -bottled water
    -the tutu
    -hair gel
    -The Canadian Antique Road Show
    -fish sticks
    -cowboy hats
    -slef-help programs
    -support group jargon
    -devil worship
    -purple shoes
    -purple hats
    -purple clothing
    -the product formed when mixing red and blue
    -grass skiing
    -the can-can
    -decorative feathers for darts
    -books on tape
    -oxygen bars (why we need them is our own bloody fault)
    -modern feminism
    -Pauly Shore
    -air horns
    -tracing paper
    -the acoustic guitar amplifier
    -the phrase "wannabe"
    -the fish bowl
    ...and many others.

    If we continue coming up with inventions at this level of stupidity, we're going to end up killing ourselves off. If I ever meet anyone who owns something called PowerAbs, I will personally strangle them until they admit to me that the shipping and handling wasn't worth the product itself, nevermind the 14 easy payments of $16.95.

    While I'm still on the computer here, I think I've discovered what it is that I find to be the most depressing thing on the planet, at least to me. Unrequited love. Definitely the most depressing thing there is. And there's nothing you can do about it. It drives me nuts. Anyway, there's the thoughts from my deranged cerebellum for the day.
  11. Well, I've decided on making this website a little more complicated. I'm in an HTML mood and that doesn't happen often. So I'm taking advantage of it. I've never actually made a webpage that I followed through with. This one seems to be working the best of them all so far. So I'm going to complicate things. This is going to confuse people who read the first entry and it talks about how I don't want any HTML to be involved here. Ah well, you can all go to hell if it confuses you. Even then, I haven't had any perfect strangers read about this yet, have I? No. Exactly. That's what I thought. Shut up.
  12. I've decided that this website means virtually nothing to me. Most people have their websites all nice and decorative so it looks good to people who come by and hopefully spread the word about the page. I think there is enough damn advertising owebsite address shows up in the middle of their message board without any description as to where the link will go, people get even more curious. And they will click on it and they will go to your page, just because it's a weird thing to see a link show up like that. That solves the problem of getting so few hits. But again, if you're looking to spread the content of your page, that's pretty well useless, although I'm sure there are some who will find what you have interesting. So, it's hardly a total loss.

    Let's experiment, shall we? I haven't done an experiment on this page yet. I'm going to put up a counter just this evening and I will "advertise" just a link to my page on several message boards. Let's see how many hits we can come up with, alright? Alright. I'll be back.
  13. Hooray! I just worked out all the little bugs in the HTML of this thing. Cool. Now it looks better for the millions and millions of loyal viewers I have weekly.

    That reminds me, how is that experiement doing?
  14. Well, I took the counter off. It is now about 24 hours since I put the counter up and posted a link to this page on various message boards. I came up with about 20 names which works out to about one new visitor every hour or so. Not bad at all for one day's work. Anyway, those are the results of my experiment. I have an ambition to do some writing.
  15. Well, one of these days, hopefully in the near future, me and a few of my friends will try to fit ourselves into the frame of a digital picture which I can then put up on this page. I don't see anything wrong with that. It's not like it doesn't fit the website.

    Would someone please explain to me what the term 'soul food' means? I don't understand. I know it was a movie with four or five Halle Berry-esque characters in it or something like that. Well, maybe that was Waiting to Exhale. Oh, while on the subject of movies, have I mentioned Pi? If I could do the little pi symbol on here I would but I can't, so you'll have to settle for the word. Anyway, there's this film called Pi and I rented it because pi is undoubtedly my favourite number (3.1415926535897932384626433832795). Plus, the movie was rated at a bold "Five stars" in my handy little movie guide. Now, this movie is easily the weirdest motion picture I have ever seen. I don't know what it's about. I don't know if it's good or if it's bad, it's just weird. I believe the plot has something to do with this intelligent math freak who is looking for a pattern in the stock market and attempts to decode it. Something like that anyway. It was extremely bizarre. So, the other day I bought it. I now own Pi. I might watch it later tonight. See if it makes any more sense the second time.
  16. Well, now I have a number of pictures that I can put on this page so I'll probably add an images section just to put these up and maybe some of the other interesting things I can conjure up from my computer's rusty insides.
  17. Provided anyone comes here anymore, you may notice that the new link to a variety of pictures doesn't work. This is because I started making it and then decided on being lazy and stopping. I still haven't fixed it. But that's okay, because nobody really cares.

    Lettuce is starting to bother me. Don't get me wrong, I like lettuce and all, but I just don't understand why we DO eat lettuce but we DON'T eat grass. Well, I eat grass, but that's not what I mean. All that lettuce is is leaves, right? Of course. Whose idea was it to actually eat these leaves? Same people who came up with bottled water and 8-track tapes, I would think.

    Speaking of which, whose idea was it to eat any item at all? I'm beginning to think that all those movies about extremely stupid cavemen were documentaries. "Hey guys, see this yak meat?! Why don't we put it in the speaking hole and, systematically crushing it with out mouth bones, we could swallow it like we do air!" It's so stupid. It makes me wonder how many other holes they tried to put food in before finding the right one. "What about that one, Bob?" "No, it doesn't fit--however, it is quite pleasurable."

    Speaking of classmates, there's an extremely large amount of BARELY literate people in school. It's alarming. When the teacher askes someone to read out loud, they always stumble on every sentence. That, and they read as though the only punctuation is a period at the end of each line.

    Speaking of difficulty in school, can someone please tell me why it is that the three angles within a triangle always add up to precisely 180 degrees. I can draw any random triangle /_\ (something like that) and I'll bet if I had a protractor, there is just no way that it'll add up to 180 degrees. Well, maybe it will. But my question is why!

    Speaking of triangles, I could go for a pizza right now. A Ton of Fun pizza. They're pretty good. Not worth $2.99, but that's what my 20% employee discount is for. :^)

    Speaking of changing to a completely unrelated topic, I think that pictures of an old Amish guy holding a fried salmon is just hilarious. Same goes for homeless people who eat fish bones. No, it has to be salmon bones.

    10% of 10% is 1%. That's a fascinating equation. Also, 1% of 1% is 0.01%, which is the same answer as 1% divided by 100. Ah, but get this: 100% of 100% is 100%.

    On the subject of mindless truths, why does Pythagorean Theorem work all the time? a˛+b˛=c˛. Okay, that seems logical until you find out that it's all about triangles. Now I'm back on the subject of triangles--why is it that mathematics about triangles don't make any sense?! Take the cone, for instance. In order to calculate the volume of a cone, you use the same formula as you would to calculate the volume of a cylinder and then multiply that by 0.3(repeating). This means that three cones could fit inside a cylinder as long as the radius of the circular face of the cone is equal to that of the cylinder. Now, when I look at a cone and a cylinder with identical circular faces, there is no way that three of those cones are going to fit in one of those cyclinders. It simply wouldn't fit. I know it does...but I swear, it doesn't work that way.

    Michael Ondaatje hasn't taken much credit for writing The English Patient. He was Canadian, but I'm no patriot so his place of birth is irrelevant. I'm just saying that his name never came up in the Oscars or anything like that. I think that happens far too much. Writers of the stories to great films aren't often credited unless they directed the damn thing.

    You know what would be a good course? Cauliflower 101.
  18. OKAY!!! Here we go. Where to begin, where to begin.

    Alright, the previous entry was written months ago, okay? First I want everyone to be clear that this is not because I have abandoned my page or not updated it for awhile. In fact I have been updating it quite frequently. You see, there has been a little bug in the system. Here's the story:

    Just days ago, there were a total of 29 entries on this, the main page of Et cetera. Understand that, first. Now I decided that it would probably be a good idea to check in and see how my page was doing and maybe add another entry. Well. I log in and everything seems normal. I go to the editing page for this main section and scroll to the bottom of this enormous amount of text that I had at the time. I think everything's okay and I'll be able to add the 30th entry with no trouble at all. I get down to the bottom, I see a whole bunch of bogus formatting that I had never entered before. It was a bunch of bizarre HTML and links I hadn't even considered putting in there. And I'm thinking "Whoa! Where's all my stuff?" I scroll up a bit to discover that most of my entries on Et cetera were no longer there. I exit the editing page and type in my URL to come to the page that you are viewing now. I scroll to the bottom and sure enough, halfway through the 17th entry, the page cuts off completely, thus bringing me to the conclusion that everything below entry 17 had been deleted. It was replaced by several Angelfire support links and feedback links and some Lycos copyright links and all kinds of worthless links.

    I submitted a bug report to Angelfire but that got me nowhere. They claim that my problem is that the index.html file of this page is enormous and that no HTML files should be over 20k. Sounds like bullshit to me. Think of how many art gallery sites and other sites with pictures and online bibles and online encyclopedias and online guides to improve a peech inspediment there are. There's no way that all of these pages that don't screw up are under 20k. Anyway, now I've lost over 50% of my work on this page. I guess I'll have to start over. Perhaps emulate some of the missing work.

    Ladies and gentlemen, this sucks!
  19. I was experiencing some nostalgia earlier by scrolling through some old topics on the message boards and I stumbled across a great quotation:

    You know what I hate? Midgets! Especially those tall ones! What are they called again? Oh yeah! People!

    Oh how I wish I could take credit for that...
  20. New marketing ploy: Reverse Aroma Therapy Candles. Specifically designed for depressed folks who just happen to be suicide potentials. They never make products for the negative side of things. Why not start here?

    Basically there are three different types of Reverse Aroma Therapy candles. The first being the most obvious, is Death by Scent. A very simple concept whereby the user lights the candle and just sits in the room for awhile until the stench is just so terrible that you die. They come in a wide variety of different scents including: Dead Fish Soaking in Raw Sewage, Metling Plastic Under Sulphuric Rain, Pakistanian Football Team Dressing Room, Overcooked Platypus Eggs Marinating in Fermenting Dog Sweat, Post-Game Footwear of the Entire NBA and Burning Human Flesh.

    The second variation on Reverse Aroma Therapy is the Quick And Painless candle. Commonly referred to as dynamite, lighting this one up is sure to solve all your problems.

    The third and last form of my idea is known as the Extended Wick Candle. It's basically a standard candle with a fourteen-foot string that has been presoaked in kerosene. Simply light the end of the candle and the entire thing will ignite into a big ball of fire which should eventually catch onto your furniture and walls. Be sure that you have blocked any emergency fire exits before enjoying your candle. Soon enough your entire room will be filled with toxic smoke and hot flames. Then you will eventually die and be engulfed in the fire, letting the stench of your corpse seep out through the windows and all over the neighbourhood. Your neighbours will say, "Jesus! For a second I thought someone was dying in there, but it must be one of those new candles."
  21. So I was sitting on the bus one day and because I had no handy walkman and there were no interesting conversations taking place to eavesdrop on, I just decided to think for awhile. I think often, it's a passion of mine but not very often do I think of something that I consider truly intelligent and unique. This, however, is the best example of my thinking that I have come up with yet whether it's a bit deranged or not. Introducing, the hermaphrodite paradox:

    Okay, by definition a homosexual is one who is attracted to another of the same gender, correct? Correct. And by definition, a bisexual is someone who is attracted to members of both genders, right? Right. Now, suppose you're a hermaphrodite and you're only attracted to other hermaphrodites. Are you a bisexual or are you a homosexual? *ominous silence*
  22. I have just read the first third of the first part of a four-part collection of journal entries by good ol' Thomas, the webmaster of, which I have decided is a close contender for being the best website on the internet next to Anyway, I intend to read all the journal entries on this guy's page because all the other content interests me immensely. He's a fascinating human being, I find. The entire website is an abstract account of who he is and is about as personal as you can get. Which is good, because I am a supporter of blunt communication. I think that it's the only way we'll ever be able to understand each other properly is if we quite burying the point you're trying to get at under useless, unnecessary jargon.

    However, I am a bit hypocritical about that.,I can't say that I enforce blunt communication, but I do believe in it. I would enforce it if everyone else was able to accept it. The biggest problem is that most people are unable to handle hearing things that they're not used to hearing. I hope that some day I will be able to talk to someone who is willing to accept hearing blunt communication and use it as well. That way I could have a simple, honest, direct conversation with just one other person who would be simple, honest and direct with me. Do you have any idea what a relief this would be? If someone would finally start doing all these things that are considered "unacceptable," then maybe the trend would spread and everything in the world would make more sense. But no, that won't work. People insist on continuing to live in a comfortable little cocoon where nothign that is societally unacceptable can get in. Do you know what happens when something does get in? Chaos, absolute chaos. Is anybody following what I'm saying here? Not likely. I need to paint a clearer picture.

    I'm going to bring everything down on a smaller scale version of today's social world. School. Most people who read this website will be able to directly identify with school and how socialization works at school. Alright, now nearly everyone at school besides the social rejects and the really popular people do have a group of real friends that they spend their time with. We'll call this the Friends Group, very simple, let's hope you can remember that. Then there's another group of people that can be referred to as just acquaintances. These are the people in school that you consider decent people, sociable people and you can talk to them without being the least bit shy. Then there is a group of people that you dislike, and most of the time, they dislike you. There is the odd person who thinks you're a friend of his but in fact you want to spear the bastard with a fishing rod, but we'll not associate this explanation with these people. The people you dislike are usually in abundance as opposed to those people you are acquaintances with and the Friends Group I referrred to earlier. In fact, the numbers get increasingly bountiful. The group of real friends is usually fairly small, ranging from 3-12 people. The acquaintances are a fairly large group of people, usually consisting of the people you sit beside in class because they just happened to be nearby and you know that you at least have one thing in common. These numbers vary so I can't really give an average range, but you get the idea. Then, the people you dislike are usually high in number. However, nobody undesrtands the basis on which you are hating these people. (By the way, I'm using the word "hate" occasionally here. If you say 'I don't hate him. I just dislike him,' don't bother disagreeing with me. To me "hate" is not much stronger a word then "dislike" because they both imply negative connotations. The hate group is the same group as the dislike group. Just listen to me rant and don't argue about that) On what grounds do you dislike most of these people? The thing is, most people have no real grounds for their dislike for someone else. It's usually based on comments they have overheard in class or just ways that some people act. But is that really a just reason to dislike someone? You don't know these people, you just assume they're idiots. To me, the actual group of people you dislike is small. The remaining people are part of a group of peers that isn't normally discussed: the people you don't know. People are hated because of a bizarre prejudice that is drawn from trivial things. I don't expect everyone to get rid of this prejudice, that's impossible. Even I share the prejudice but it just can't be helped. I'm only sharing with you what I believe in, not what I enforce.

    Of course, that entire paragraph got way off topic and now I have to regain my train of thought to develop more complaints about the lack of blunt communication. Actually, I think I've set a nice understandable scenario for you readers to work with now. Nevermind, the above paragraph wasn't a waste after all. Now imagine these groups of people: your group of friends, those you consider friendly acquaintances, those people you hate, and those people you don't know. For the people that you don't know, there is no way to determine how they would react to something you might say. If you decided to comment bluntly on something that is considered unacceptable by everyone else, you can't predict the reactions of the people you don't know. You can bet that the people you hate will shun you for the comment and make fun of you and think of the worst possible ways to degrade you for what has been said. Your acquaintances will be shocked by the comment and probably change their perspective on who you are. Your real friends will probably be more shocked that you told everyone than they will at the comment themselves. For example, imagine standing up in class, getting everyone's attention and saying, "The only reason I pee while in the swimming pool is because it doesn't seem that dirty when you're underwater. Why use the washroom if it seems logical right in the pool?" This is a highly unacceptable comment. It is something you will never hear because people are afraid of saying it. Everyone else is afraid of hearing it because they're not used to stuff like this. Unless someone was joking, nobody would say this because they can predict what the reaction would be. This would cause chaos for everyone if someone was actually gutsy enough to say this comment. I'm sick of the fact that if someone wants to admit to something that people "just don't talk about" they can't do it without being shunned collective by everyone else. Did you know that almost nobody will admit to picking their nose? "Do you pick your nose?" "No." Bullshit! I'm sick and tired of this social way of life where there are some thing that you can't say simply because people don't want to hear them or believe that they "shouldn't be talked about." Everyone's afraid of the truth and it's pissing me off! Picking your nose is the best example of this I can think of, whether you consider it a juvenile subject or not. It's something that everybody does, but nobody talks about. Why not!? If everybody does it, why is it so bad to talk about it? Suppose you answer "yes" to the question. People react differently. "Do you pick your nose?" "Yes." "Ewwww! Gross!" More bullshit! It's not gross! You people have to think like an extremist once in awhile. It's a better way to think. Something so trivial as picking your nose is considered to be such a disgusting thing! NO! You people musn't have much of a stomach if you think it's that gross. You know what is gross? People who consume their own fecal matter is gross. Fucking an unconscious cat is gross. Large tapeworms eating away at the entrails of a living horse with an external digestive system is gross. Picking your nose is not gross. Okay!?

    Blunt communication, only way to go. Think of that same classroom that just got shocked and appalled by the swimming pool thing. Suppose that the next day, the same guy writes up a survey for everyone in the class. Somehow, everyone is persuaded to answer honestly. Everyone writes anonymously and then tehy discuss it afterwards. There is only one question: "Do you ever put shampoo in your pubic hair?" Oh! Now THAT is a risky unacceptable term! It's a vile, direct reference to potential topics of conversation that simply are NOT topics of conversation. People don't deal with things like this. But I'll bet the survey results would be almost unanimously "yes" when everyone had finished. Then the guy who wrote this unacceptable survey would sit down and look through the results. We'll say that he found 3 of the answers to be "no" and 27 of the answers to be "yes." Then, standing in front of the class, he picks four people at random and asks them to tell the rest of the class what they put for their answer. I will bet you that all four of those people will say "no" because everyone likes to pretend that certain things are bad and people try to make sure that everyone thinks that they don't do any of these bad things. This is a bad thing just because it's not talked about. Therefore, nobody will give their honest answer because that is them willing pointing out a so-called flaw in their behaviour. People love to admit that they suck at Tetris or that they have bad handwriting. But nobody will admit to picking their nose. See, in school, people refer to handwriting and Tetris skill as something that you don't HAVE to be good at in order to be considered a good person. However, nobody admits to picking their nose because everyone else in school puts on this act that deems such an activity as something only engaged in by people who are disgusting. You know, those disgusting people who actually look at themselves when standing nude in front of a mirror. Those grotesque human beings who actually get sexually aroused during school hours. And let's not forget the terrible, disgusting bunch who scratch wherever it's itchy.

    C'mon people! Give it up. Do we have to keep living in this stupid social world where things that everyone does are shunned when they come up in conversation? Human behaviour has been gravely misrepresented because of these fucking hypocrites who pretend to want to vomit everytime someone discusses an elaborate fantasy. Fuck you! If you can't handle simple, honest, direct language that deals with things that you yourself relate to somehow, then stay the fuck out of the conversation you goddamn pussy! If you're afraid of words because they relate to something that only you and your right hand talk about, get away from me. I have no interest in listening to people shudder everytime you mention something that is "personal." Shut up, I'm sick of keeping things to myself. I'm sick of secrets. I'm sick of people telling me lies because they're afraid of what my reaction might be. If you have something to say, say it! If you truly find my conversation unacceptable, don't participate! It's very simple. Learn to accept what I'm saying or get outta here!

    Which brings me back to one of my original points, which seemed a lot more likely before I explained the contents of blunt communication. I just want someone to talk to. Someone who sees my point and isn't afraid to say things because of how I might react. Why can't there be someone like this? Isn't there anyone I can talk to who can be blunt and not be afraid of what I say? I don't care what you tell me. Tell me anything, ask me anything and I'll give you an honest answer as long as I can expect the same blunt responses from you. Sadly this site doesn't serve as very good advertising for me to find someone who would enforce blunt communication with me. I just want to talk to a real human being for once.

    Well, that's not all I want. I want a girlfriend. I feel rather depraved but I don't think I have the right to complain. Lots of people don't have a girlfriend. But most of those people are just hopeless ugly guys who will date ugly girls some time in their early thirties. I don't want to be one of those people who stay single until retirement. I want a girlfriend. I don't really know why. I think it's probably because it's something I've never had. Sure, there was Erin, but I've finally brought myself to the conclusion that she doesn't really count. Why? It lasted too long to break off. Erin and I met when we were nine and the idea behind a long-distance relationship wasn't even thought of. I didn't know what it was when I was nine. We just sent our letters back and forth and that's the way it was for three years with the occasional phone call. We met again when we were twelve and that's when I noticed the problem. Meeting her in person again was very high-tension for me. Not so much because I was nervous or anything, but because I was rushing things. There was a lot of pressure to spend as much time with her as possible before I had to leave again. Everything was crammed into a couple of weeks and it was so busy and cluttered with things to do that I never had time to enjoy most of it. The same thing happened again at that campsite in the summer of '99. We were fifteen by then and again we tried to cram all these things to do in the short short time we had to spend together. Four days I think it was. And again, I never even thought to enjoy the time I spent with her. There were only a few moments that I truly savoured. Everything else is just an excuse to be there. With her. There was no meaning. Ever since the second time we met, it had always felt strange anyway. Hanging around with this person like it was something I did daily. It was always weird. Those last two years conjured up a lot of thoughts that I never thought I'd have. And after all that thinking, I'm positive that if we had met at the age of fifteen, we would've broken up a long time ago. The only reason I had a five-year long distance relationship is because both of us thought that it was just too long to put an end to.

    So now I want a girlfriend. Something I've never had before. Something like Richard had with Andrea. Why not? I'm not one of those ugly slobs who will eventually grow up to marry an ugly woman they meet at a Bingo. I'm not. Frankly, I think I deserve a girlfriend. The trouble is, my personality characteristics appeal to a very select group of people. Opinionated, cold, cynical, friendly, lighthearted atheist. Not something you see to often in the Personal Ads. But over the last year or so I have also realized that the dawn and maintenance of many relationships is based far more on physical appearance than anyone is willing to admit. Now, I don't think my physical appearance matches my personality. Well, that's not entirely true. It matched my social personality, but that side of me has nothing to do with how I think, and ultimately, that's the important thing. But I'm just listing my characteristics and explaining how that appeals to a very narrow female audience. That seems like a one-sided block of evidence in my quest to get a girlfriend.

    What am I looking for? What personality characteristics appeal to me? I used to care. Now I don't care and I have reached a point that I disagree with and once believed I would never reach: desperate. I am desperate. Everywhere I go I'm thinking stupidly and hoping in some outmoded fashion that maybe I'll get a girlfriend if I buy some stranger lunch. It's so stupid! I can't stand thinking this way and having such a stupid mentality but I can't help it either. I'm just this pent-up fool who can't get a girlfriend because he's a social failure due to the lack of enforcement upon the doctrine he believes in. Blunt communication. It all comes back to that. I'm so afraid of how people will react to something I say. I'm afraid that someone will take something the wrong way and that causes severe damaging to my self-esteem. This is why I have this dumb mentality of desperation. I have such stupid thoughts that I almost want to hit myself for them. For example, today at school, we filled out this survey that the Student Council uses annually to help raise funds. It's a Matchmaker quiz thing where everyone in the school fills out the form, puts their name on it and then by some illogical reasoning, a computer lists the top five members of the opposite sex whose answer's were closest to your own. The survey itself is so stupid with its stupid questions and failed attempts at trying to be funny. But, my desperate mentality did something to me that I never would do if I was thinking rationally. I took the test seriously! I carefully constructed my answers to each question and made sure everything was good and honest and when I finished answering all the questions I actually HOPED that this Matchmaker quiz would help me get a girlfriend. IT'S PATHETIC!!

    Another example, several months ago, before I was this desperate, Jonathan, Richard, Chris and I went over to the vending machines during lunch hour. They were depositing their change into the machines while I stood back and waited for them when someone tapped on my shoulder. I spin around and there's this girl standing there, looking rather embarrassed. This was a happy day for me so I assumed my irrational, friendly personality and questioned, "Yes?" She said, "Um, my friend who sits over there wanted me to ask you if you would go out with her?" She pointed to some table in the cafeteria. I didn't even look. Almost immediately, I said, "Nah, that's okay." I think she said something else after that, but nobody seemed unhappy. My comment was not to degrade anyone, and was, in fact, said with a cheerful tone. A thanks-for-the-offer-but kind of tone. My response makes perfect sense to me. I, for one, am against using your friends to ask someone out. It's very impersonal. It's even more impersonal if neither you or your friend know the person in question. Which was the case here. Whoever it was that was sitting at that table asked her friend to ask me out for her and neither of these people knew me beforehand. The question was obviously based entirely on physical appearance, which is also not right. At least know the person first. Relationships can't exist without relations. So I simply dismissed it as an illogical question and said, "Nah, that's okay." But you know what? I was thinking about this a few days ago and I REGRET TURNING HER DOWN!!!! What the hell is wrong with me!? Am I so desperate that I'm actually regretting not going out with the person that I haven't even seen before!? It's so pathetic! You'd think I'd have more brains than this but this desperation really gets to me. It distorts the way I think. I want a girlfriend. I don't care who. But I don't particularily want an ugly girlfriend. Sounds pretty mean, but it's true. We can save most of the ugly girls for the ugly guys to meet in about fifteen years. I think I deserve more than an ugly girlfriend. But at this point, it doesn't even have to be a person that I have a remote attraction to! I don't care! I'll make a relationship first and develop an attraction later.

    But it's not about that, either. I don't want a girlfriend because I want something attractive to look at. Unlike most members of this dispicable gender, my reasons for this desperation are not purely sexual. Granted, I'm getting tired of masturbating to the ceiling at one o'clock in the morning but it's not my motive here. I just want a girlfriend. A companion. A girl who enjoys my company; I don't see that too often. And why is it so hard? Why can't I get a girlfriend?

    Because all the good girls are taken and all the best girls are shy. Like me.
  23. So here I am, writing out a bunch of crap in pencil on a roughly torn sheet of looseleaf. Naturally, by the time you read this, it will be nicely typed up and mean a whole lot less soemhow. Anyway, back to Pencil Land. It's about 5 in the morning and everyone but me has stopped physical activity and is trying to get some sleep. I, however, sit here with a pencil and paper on the top of Richard's deep freeze. In the room adjacent, Jonathan, Richard and both the Chris's I know are passed out on the bed due to mass consumption of alcohol. Further down the hall, Andrea lies by herself, feeling sick like myself. I wish I could do something but it is apparently "against the rules." All the girls have to sleep in one room, the guys in another. Screw that, I sure wouldn't sleep. I'd be sitting by the bed making sure she doesn't turn the wrong way and asphyxiate on her own vomit. Is there something wrong with that?

    By the way, whether or not this letter makes sense is mildly irrelevant. It is written at a time when the influence of alcohol is just trying to wear off.

    Anyway, I should probably apologize for that last entry. I doubt its bluntness will be appreciated by everyone because, well, people just don't accept things like that. Nobody really wants to hear someone else complain, do they?

    I keep thinking that I'm actually trying to make a point by writing this entry. Especially in pencil. Maybe it'll help dillute all the other demoralizing thoughts that keep running through my mind. Maybe I'm writing it to vent the pent-up frustration of the evening. Or maybe I'm writing it in the hopes that someone will see me writing it and assume that I am somehow more intelligent because while everyone else is--no! What the hell!

    *ten minute pause*

    Richard's mother came home. I just ate breakfast with her upstairs. I guess she works the night shift.

    God I'm desperate. I don't feel like writing anymore. Go to hell.
  24. Even though I really don't have to, I feel I should apologize for the previous two entries. Anyone who was reading this page and came to that entry will feel awfully strange. Most of the entries are very lighthearted and at least somewhat joyous in tone. Then you come to that heap of text and the whole balance gets thrown off. Sorry about that. It wasn't my intention to do that, but it just came out that way. Everything fits according to the title of the page so it's not a faulty presentation of my theme. There is no theme.

    So anyway, yeah. Dice.
  25. There tends to be a lot of immaturity everywhere I go. Most of this is due to the general lack of respect for otherpeople. Since I spend an unfortunate amount of my time at school, this is where I see most of this behaviour. However, my recent observations have led me to the conclusion that it occurs among even the ultra-mature adults. The way that some people react to things is quite drankly idiotic. The biggest problem is likely the fact that nobody tries to understand the other's perspective. This can't be done perfectly of course because we couldn't begin to imagine what everyone else's mantality is like. But I still think we should at least make the effort to look for any possible reasonin in the other person's actions or statements. If for just awhile we could think like this, I suspect a lot of people would change.

    I'm planning on adding a profiles section to this website that showcases my peers, the occasional mortal enemy and possibly the mail delivery guy. I quite like the idea, however I always get confused as to what I'm doing concerning the uploading of pictures. You see, every picture that I have uploaded thus far is posted on the Images section. Now, for the profiles, there should be a corresponding photograph for each. I don't know, I'll just find it strange to upload an image that doesn't go in the Images section. I'm left with even more confusion when it comes to mine and Richard's profiles. Both of our pictures are already in the Images section and if they are in the profile and the images section, why would everyone else's profile pictures not be in the images section? I don't know, I'll figure it out eventually.

    I'm also thinking of making a small topical index of all the Et cetera entries. That probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense but I know what I mean and just can't explain it very well, sorry.

    Another idea that I had was to have a small little box containing my most recent addition, edition or deletion to the page. I had a neat little java idea for that but it didn't work for some reason. Ah well. I think there's probably better ways to do it anyway. It's almost like a "What's new" section, but I just don't keep record of the old "What's new" updates. I've never understood that. Why keep something that's old in a "what's new" section? Mine would just be a small little box in the corner or something that tells you what I did last on this page. A popup window would be effective actually, but nobody likes popup windows. Maybe if I could make it really small...

  26. I truly think that "plaid" should be pronounced "playd." It just makes more sense that way. Look at other examples: maid, braid, aid; it's not mad, brad and ad! A similar conundrum arises from the word "said," because going along with common theory, "said" should be pronounced "sad," just as "plaid" is pronounced "plad." But "said" is weird. They even throw an E into the pronounciation. I would think a better past tense word for "say" should be "sayed." Imagine reading that in a book somewhere: "Don't get maid," sayed Clara saidly as she and Braid plaid in the park.
  27. I still haven't worked out my dilemma about uploading pictures but I think I'll just go with the flow and leave everything as it is. I don't really need to add profile pictures to the images section because if you want to see them that badly, it's only one extra click to the profile section itself. I may eventually take mine and Richard's pictures off the images section and just put it in the profile instead. Why have the same picture twice?

    I think the band Semisonic would still be around if they didn't choose to release "Closing Time" as their debut single.

  28. Wow, I had a very interesting dream last night/earlier today. I'm pretty sure it was about an earthquake. It was all very cinematic, possibly in widescreen, and I was a part of a family of four that I had never seen before. I'm pretty sure the sibling was a sister, but I remembered my parents distinctly. Especially my newfound father. Now, I can't really remember where we were going but I seem to remember walking up some stairs when the earthquake began. I know we were downtown, but I wasn't too clear as to what city it was. In fact, I still have no idea what city it was, as you will discover below.

    So anyway, we're walking up this wide outdoor staircase and somewhere in the middle of this trek, me and my father separate from the other two and I believe we ended up in an elevator somehow. Now, it turns out that my father is a sinister little bastard in this dream. A "bad guy" character in a way. I can't quite remember what he did first, but I do remember that he stole someone's wallet by "accidentally" bumping into them at one point. But anyway, in the elevator, he pulls out a small blue revolver. It was really blue. It looked like a toy but somehow I knew it wasn't. Then he decides that we should go into the casino. Under his breath he was conspiring something that I couldn't quite make out. Anyway, I told him, "You're not actually going to go into a casino with that, are you?" referring to the blue revolver. I think I talked him out of it somehow but we ended up going to the casino anyway. As it turns out, the casino is where we were going in the first place with the wide staircase. My sister, if it was in fact a sister, had disappeared somewhere. My father did executed some more random petty crimes, all things that my mother certainly wouldn't approve of and I guess I could've told her, but by then I didn't have enough time.

    We reach the top of the staircase and the earthquake start. Now, this was really fascinating, I'm serious. The special effects in this dream were amazing and all on an extremely low budget. I'm pretty sure the huge casino building at the top of this wide staircase collapsed and the glass doors in front of us exploded. Buildings began falling down left and right and people were running everywhere. This is happening at night, by the way. Anyway, it's just chaos in these downtown streets. Looking off into the distance as buildings are falling down everywhere I see the CN Tower and I think "Okay, I'm in Toronto." Somewhere in the middle of all this chaos, a building lands on my father and something goes severely wrong with my sense of proportion in this dream. Somehow, the building that lands on my father is smaller than he is, if that makes sense. It crushes him like a vehicle landing on someone's back. So my father is still visible, but there's just a building on top of his back. Does that make sense? I don't know, but it was weird. Of course, it seemed perfectly normal in the dream as though people can always support the weight of a building on their back.

    So my father is still alive, wounded here and there and he's sort of trying to ask for help as I just stand there and watch a couple more building fall on top of the building he is already beind crushed by. My father is such an ass in this dream that I really don't care what happens to him and certainly don't feel sorry for him. I'm sort of glad there's a building on top of him. Somewhere near my father, there is a revolving door just sitting in the middle of the street with a big beam on top of it. For some reason, this is significant.

    Okay, so my father gets out from underneath the buildings that are on top of him somehow and he's following me as I just walk around looking at the chaos. The earth is still shaking but I hardly notice. Some of this chaos is really quite fascinating. Some of the explosions from these buildings is truly amazing. Like I said, great special effects. Anyway, so there's my father traililng behind me with broken bones left and right. Not too far from the revolving glass door, I turn around and look back up at the CN Tower and it is beginning to collapse. This was easily one of the coolest things in this dream because it was just a nice night sky and the revolving restaurant in the tower was all lit up and I'm sure lots of people we're just enjoying their dinners when the building begins to fall over. I suspect it broke off at its base and began falling towards me and my father. So then I glance at my father, he screams and the CN Tower lands on top of him. It was classic. Just like all the other buildings had crushed him before, the proportion was way off so I could somehow still see my father and the CN Tower on top of him. He was taking his last breath with his tongue hanging out and a lot less blood around than there should have been. At some point he just died as more buildings exploded and fell down all around me.

    Here's the weirdest part. The earthquake stops and I see my mother and possibly my sister, I'm not sure, come through the revolving glass door with the beam on top of it in the middle of the street. So we meet up and I think I was explaining something about how the loss of my father wasn't a really big one because he was actually just a stupid criminal. My mother didn't seem disappointed at all. Then there was a brief pause in the dream and all of a sudden it was daytime again. All I could see was a downtown building, the daytime sky and then, out of nowhere, the top of the Calgary Tower falls on top of the building and causes a lot of damage. Just the top, just that revolving head of the building. It was interesting that it just seemed to fall out of the sky and land on a building. Then, suddenly, it was nighttime again back in Toronto with my mother there and my father's corpse having been crushed by the CN Tower. Everyone in the streets seemed a little more calm and there was the general post-earthquake chaos with destroyed buildings left and right. Then the dream switches to a shot of the casino with the wide staircase where it all began. It appears to be intact, but there's nobody around. Then the eight or nine glass doors that make up the main entrance just remove themselves from the building and are floating side by side in midair over the staircase. Then they all fold together like one of those wallet inserts where people put pictures of their family. They just all folded up like an accordion and exploded in the air, sending tiny shards of glass everywhere. Really tiny pieces of glass. This thing really exploded. It happened very fast and after the glass doors exploded the rest of the casino appeared to be destroyed again. And that was the end of the dream.

  29. Wow, it just dawned on my that "bittersweet" is a contradiction in terms...
  30. Last Saturday was a horrendous day at work, primarily because there were 26 birthday parties, which equals about 234 children plus there is adults and all the walk-ins who thought the weekend was the best time to come and "play." Yes, it was hell. I was looking at the schedule last week and it turns out there were 27 birthday parties for the upcoming Saturday. Yuck. However, on the plus side of things, I wasn't scheduled to work next Saturday.

    Now that Saturday is here and as I have sat at home bored for the entire week, the phone rings. I was going to enjoy a peaceful day of solitude today, but hey, if there is a friend of mine who actually is phoning to do something social, fine. I'll go with that. Nobody seemed up to it for the rest of the week so why not now? My dad brings me the phone. "It's for you," he says, "I think it's Ton of Fun." *dies*

  31. Somehow it's difficult to picture a penguin sitting on the toilet. This came to mind several weeks ago, but I'm only adding it now. I don't recall why I was thinking about penguins, but I find it rather interesting.
  32. Just to give myself more work to do, I'm almost considering making an Et cetera newsletter. I have no idea what I would put in it or anything, it just sounds interesting. I'd do my best to, at the very least, make it unique and not quite as boring as most newsletters. Nothing stupid like links to an FAQ section or 'Sign up for your own private free e-mail at..." because those things just bother me. This is assuming I would be the only author of the newsletter which seems to make sense, because I am also the only person in charge of this page. "Webmaster" sounds nice and powerful and I like using it even though it doesn't really apply here. Makes it sound like I'm spending every waking moment of my leisure time "working" on this page, which I am certainly not. Randall Morrison, Webmaster. Tee hee, I am God...

    Anyway, back to the newsletter idea: the biggest problem would be that I don't think I would be able to write a newsletter without posting it on the page as an archived thingamajig. This, aside from defeating the purpose of e-mailing it to people, is because I always like saving everything that I write. Chat transcripts and e-mails and ramblings and pretty well everything that I type is something that I want to save just so I will never read it later, which I usually don't. However, I'm a fan of nostalgia and therefore I don't like to be missing out on the opportunity to get my fill later.

    When I finish the profiles I just realized that I'll probably want to go through everything I've written here and find every spot at which I mention someone's name and then link to their profile. There's always consequences it seems. I think it's worth it for the profiles, though, because it's a section that has helped me distinguish this page from all the other ones that I copied off of already. At one point, Et cetera was very much like the ramblings section of Lindsey's page, which I believe I mentioned in the first entry. By now I have certainly distinguished myself from that and after doing a bit research, it turns out that ramblings and online journals and the like are not all that rare, anyway. All of them are different in terms of content, but they aren't hard to find. Many homepages consist of nothing but ramblings. Whether or not they are entertaining is up to the reader, I guess. I would think that something so great in quantity on the web would consist of primarily poor content, but everything that I've read so far of the genre is pretty solid.

    I think I just trailed off topic there, didn't I? What was I talking about? I guess I could scroll up and look for myself, but I probably won't. I'll just talk about another new idea of mine. Well, it's not that new, but it's new to the page, at least. I don't think I've mentioned it yet. You see, I would like a companion site that would be identical in format to this one, but written by someone else. It's called: DiEt cetera. Is that not a cool name? Anyway, the trouble is I don't know of anybody who would write the page. My first thought would be that Timothy La Rocque should be the author of DiEt cetera, but I think that one page is difficult enough and I really wouldn't be able to maintain it myself. R.C Allen was a good choice as host, too, and he seemed half-interested at one point. I'll have to ask some more people. I wouldn't want it to be just one of those homepages that people abandon after three months. So it would probably have to be someone who enjoys rambling on and on like I am doing now. This doesn't give me a very broad selection of people to choose from already. I've got a couple of people in mind and I'll probably ask them tomorrow if I can.

    Another complete waste of time that I, for some reason, am considering is an Et cetera message board. This would really complicate things. I'm sure I could handle it, but I'm not sure if I really think it's appropriate to do something like that to a page such as this which gets maybe five hits a day (three of which are probably me). Actually, I'm going to do some advertising. I like the message board idea, so maybe if I advertise a bit I'll get more people who read this thing (not likely).

  33. Well, I did it. I added an Et cetera message board. Lately I've been adding a lot of things that are completely unnecessary. In fact, a lot of it I don't even like. I never liked counters, but I put one of those up for some reason. A message board is a big thing to be putting up I think, so it's really irrational for me to do that. As far as I know, my website has a regular viewing audience of 3 to 5 people that I can think of. If there is anyone else, well they're reading secretly because I certainly don't know about it. So anyway, as I was saying, what's the point of a message board for a site that never gets any visitors? It's stupid! In fact, I take it back, I don't like the message board idea. It makes me feel guilty of "commercializing" this thing, even though that doesn't make any sense. I don't think I'm going to make any more additions for awhile now. But I'll leave the message board up. Why? I surely don't know.
  34. I expect that there's going to be a whole lot of these entries added during school now. I'm in a computer class for the first time in two years now and apparently, every Friday is basically a free class. Even then, I assume that I'll get through this class fast enough to earn collected hours of boredom while everyone strives to type at 20 words per minute. Trouble is, I don't always have things to write about and I don't always have things to update the page with. Especially not at school, where my resources are limited.

    The folks down at the office are calling people down for course corrections and textbook collections. I got the textbooks yesterday and I believe I'm next for course corrections. It seems that they can never get the schedule right. Although, this semester, it's all about indecision. I just didn't know what to take so I picked things I would regret later and then need to change and yada yada yada here I am.

    My my, this is going to be a boring class. Five months of doing nothing. Fun fun fun. Plus I'm in a classroom of Grade 9 and 10 students. That's not necessarily a problem but there's still nobody to talk to. That's fine, I guess. There's never anybody to talk to anyhow. I don't know why it is that I end up in a bunch of classes where the only "sociable" people turn out to be storytellers and morons. Andrew is a prime examples of a storyteller. Actually, I should make an entire section for Andrew alone. Nah, it would take to long for me to write all about his Kendo training in Japan. Not to mention his strategies of pyrotechnics and plans to bomb certain teacher's cars.

    I need to read some books. I should've brought one today. Maybe I should do that during my free time in here, rather than adding entries to the website. It's much more productive, I suppose. These things ultimately mean nothing and are rather boring to read when I don't know what to talk about. Then I find myself looking around to find things to comment on but it's a computer room, you know. Not much to talk about. To my left, there's a computer. To my right, there's a computer. All around me there's computers. Let's see, what's on the walls? Hmmm paint...interesting.

    I'm going to die in here...

  35. This has been the least productive afternoon I have experienced in a long time. Guess what? Aside from adding entries during class in the computers course, I have "Expanded Opportunity" every single day where I am not required to do anything. It's basically a study period and seeing as I never study and there are internet-accessible computers in here, I'm spending an even more unhealthy time online. This is really bad, you know. I have got to get a life. Well, I don't necessarily have no life because I certainly spend more quality time than my brother who sits in front of the TV all day.

    In case you haven't guessed, I'm still at school for the last period of the day. 80 more minutes of doing nothing and adding more garbage to this page. Looking over it, I do notice that a lot of it is garbage. I don't always have realy content in these entries. In fact, most of the time, the only thing I'm writing about is how terrible the other entries are. Therefore, I will now shut up and think of something worthwhile.

    This classroom is crowded. Apparently, most people choose ExOp (shortened form) just because there's nothing to do. Then they realize how boring it is and don't bother adding it to their schedules for the rest of their time at this school. I thought most people had clued in to this and the class would be much smaller. Oh well. That's fine. I've been enjoying far too much solitude lately. I feel awfully weak lately. Maybe I should do those chinups again.

    That probably makes no sense. I don't think I've mentioned the chinups until now. At one point I did about eighty chinups a day in sets of ten followed by five hundred situps or so with Richard. It was rather hard but worthwhile I think. Then we just sort of forgot about it and never kept up the routine. At one point, we were doing 1000 situps a day all in on sequence. It was...time-consuming. I'm losing my athleticism. That's not good. I like being athletic. I like being able to do a back flip. Especially in mid-conversation with someone else. You'll be talking with someone and all of a sudden WHOOSH! back flip in mid-sentence. Good fun.

    I'll probably be back.

  36. Holy crap what a waste of time that was! Not school, that is, but the past few hours I've been attempting to fix things. I converted all these documents on this page to "Advanced" mode just because, well, it's better off that way really. Then I thought that it would probably be a good idea to get a new server because Angelfire won't be a good host of any of my pictures or anything if I choose to use them on the message board or wherever. The first place I looked at was Crosswinds, Lindsey's new server. It didn't seem to screw up too many things on her page plus it has that unlimited space feature, so I signed up there. I've spent the past three hours or so setting it up and uploading all these pictures and transferring this entire page over to there. Of course, I notice the problem after I've done all this, 2˝ hours later. It turns out I am unable to edit the main page. I couldn't figure out why. All the other ones had their nice little Edit button beside them, except the main page. I tried uploading the page under a different name and it still didn't work. I basically read over the entire HTML code to see if there might've been something faulty in there that somehow would've caused this. There was nothing. It seemed fine. Finally I went to a realtime help chatroom that the crosswinds staff has (which is extremely handy, by the way, I was impressed by the service) and I explained to them my problem. So what do they tell me? "You'll have to edit your page offline and upload it again everytime you change something. The online editor only works with pages 32k or less." Well shit! I can't edit this page offline all the time. I update this thing frequently. It just doesn't work that way. So now I have this useless crosswinds account. The only thing it's giving me is a place to put my Et cetera message board banner. I guess that's a plus, but if I'd known that that's all I'd get out of this I wouldn't have bothered uploading the rest of the crap. It took me three hours to get a banner. Yay me.
  37. Well, it's been done. I have completed the DiEt cetera project. The new link can be found at the top of this page. I am not hosting this page, it is in the hands of Mitchell Duncan. The similarities between the two sites are only in formatting thus far. I've done the whole inverse color thing just like Diet Coke does on the colours of their cans. I'm not sure if I've wholly explained what DiEt cetera is or not, but whatever. In fact, he may explain it in the first entry which hasn't been written quite yet. Anyway, I'll probably build a DiEt cetera forum as well on the message boards, but that's work for later. I should probably just add a 'member sites' category or something. So that's the news, I guess. Not much more to talk about. At least I can't think of anything.
  38. Do you ever hear a song that you just wish would never end? Not necessarily because it's really good, but just because the coming of silence is depressing. Aw crap the song just ended! I WAS listening to Candy Says by the Velvet Underground. I also have a Blind Melon cover of the same song, but I think they're so different that it's not really worth comparing. The Velvet Underground version is very peaceful. I need to find another peaceful song like that. I'm going to search for more of their stuff. Maybe they're always like that.

    It looks like DiEt cetera is running smoothly despite some speed bumps in the road of progression. His format appears slightly different. The main page basically stays the same for the sake of conformity, but all the linked pages have the DiEt cetera banner on them that links back to the main page, which I don't have. Actually, I've never had a link back to the main page on any of mine because I always figure people just use their Back button and that's the end of it. Maybe one day I'll go through all this and put in some links like that. I'll have to do that once I finish up the profiles anyway. I've probably said that already, but I do plan to have links to the profiles of people who I have mentioned anywhere else on the site.

    I think I'll get to bed at a decent hour this evening. It's approaching nine thirty; I'll make it a mission to be in bed by 10.

    Later on I think I'll add an Et cetera survey, since I have been meaning to write one for some time now. I haven't really looked into how I'm going to do it yet, as I am sure there are several ways and one won't be hard to find when I'm inspired. I've always been dissatisfied with other surveys written by a cheap staff from some sort of thematic free e-mail service. If you can't fix the problem, I might as well write my own. Most of these surveys don't cover enough things that interest me. A lot of them, but not enough. For example, they never ask if the writer likes their middle name or not. That stuff interests me.

    I've got to think up some more good content for these entries. I'm running short here. Even more vocabulary is weakening lately. Sometimes I forget to put commas where there are supposed to be commas and it drives me bananas (I only use the banana thing because nobody uses it unless there's some sort of childish monkey picture beside it and they think it's a creative pun. If that made any sense.) 9:36 pm. I'm now downloading something called The Goodbye Song and it's like 15 minutes long. I'm really looking for something that seems like it goes on forever. As long as it's something pleasant to listen to.

    The message board is doing better than I expected it to. I doubt the post count has hit triple digits or anything, but people do actually go there and post stuff, even if it is only people I know. I expected I would have to shut that thing down several days after putting it up. I guess I'll keep it. I added the section on Visual Conundrums, finally. I've been meaning to do that for a long time. I had this Mr. Wolf picture in my binder for a few months and thought that would be a good excuse to start that section. I'm actually running out of ideas for new sections too. My creative veins have just been running dry lately. I can't imagine the crap that would turn up if I actually sat down and tried to write something again. Maybe I should and get those juices flowing. It's not much of an occupation if I have lost the ability to think of creative things and write them down in a half decent way. This past month or so I feel that I've been getting steadily stupider and less creative and just not as good a person as I was awhile ago. I try to strive to be the best I can, but it's just going backwards lately. I don't know why. It's like I'm really bored. I haven't had anything to do. No that's not true, I could've been writing. I don't know why I didn't. I need initiative again. Somebody needs to give me initiative. I can't do it myself. I should make a promise on the Et cetera message boards that I'll finish a story by a certain date. That seems to work sometimes. But that's only if everybody is anticipating it. And how can they anticipate it if...actually, I could post a plot summary. But it would have to be an interesting one. Maybe Fountain Orange. I like that story, it's turning out alright.

    I should also put the stories section back up for this page. And finish the links thing that I've left dangling. Ack! I keep thinking I've got so much to do! I really do need to finish the profiles, too. But I need digital pictures. I need pictures of everybody. I should do the text part first, I guess. The pictures can always be added afterwards. I'm listening to The Goodbye Song now, by the way. It seems pretty peaceful--Oh god!!! Heavy metal?! That piano thing was nice, now there's a bunch of unnecessarily loud punk music! I didn't want that. Crap!! I can't take fifteen minutes of this!

    Now three and a half minutes into it, the piano starts again. Now there's some silence. What is this? I'm confused. Is it just another ten minutes of silence, or is there more content here? Well, I scrolled to about nine minutes into it and they're now just fooling around on the mike. Something about pudding and incessant singing. This is weird...

  39. I hate computers. I hate all of them. Especially this one, at the moment. Right now I am in school, but I said that already in my lengthy entry that I was writing before it crashed on me. How troublesome. I could really go for the destruction of all human technology right about now. It would make things inimitably less frustrating. I expect that the computer will freeze once again in the middle of this entry somewhere so I expect that yet another mundane dosage of ramblings will be lost to the viewing public. I'm not sure what to do in this ExOp if the computer will not cooperate with me. Since it is my last class of the day, it is the perfect time to do homework. But my schedule this semester is so easy that I'll never have any homework. This is futile. I love the word 'futile;' I've been using it lately.

    Anyway, back to hating stuff, I should probably add to my passionate hatreds subtitle in my profile that I really really really hate having to write something over that I have already written. This entry is a good example of that. Although, I haven't really mentioned many of the same things I did before the computer crashed on me. Whatever, I don't care. There's nothing that siginificant anywhere on this board. Nearly everything that I find important I have saved on the hard drive somewhere. Not this one, of course, because I wouldn't trust one of these computers with something of value to me.

    I think I'll end this and save it before it tries to disconnect me again.

  40. ARGH!!!!! This page is driving me nuts. THe survey won't work and everything else is starting to fall apart because the banners on the message boards don't work because crosswinds shut down my other page for no apparent reason. I'm going to kill something.
  41. In school again, with nothing to do but sit here and tell you about some more interesting thoughts I've been having. After reading the second entry on DiEt cetera, I feel rather deprived of writing skill. Mitchell has done a fabulous job with this, I suggest every human being on the planet read it. You might learn something. I think I should make an Et cetera Connection hall of fame where all the good entries can be stored such as that one.

    I'm trying to understand exactly what the story is behind the lyrics of Kashmir. It seems to be telling a story of some sort. Something about going to Kashmir, apparently on foot, because there seems to be a lot of sentences dealing with walking and the heat of the sun and eyes filling with sand, etc.

    I'm also trying to remember what the original colors were on Et cetera. Maybe I'll ask everyone on the message boards if they remember. I changed it twice I think, coming up with this finished product. (just in case I change it again, the colors right now are #191970 and the text is #f5f5f5, and I don't think the text has ever changed)

    I'm getting angry again because some smartass thought it was cool to switch all the number keys on this school keyboard around so the one key has the symbol of the backspace arrow and all the other ones are scrambled. And my walkman's batteries are still dying on me so it shifts in and out of key because the motor slows down sometimes thus screwing up the sound. It really bothers me. At least I don't have to listen to the conversations going on elsewhere in the room. Actually, I have this music playing pretty loud. Maybe the guy next to me can't hear the conversations going on elsewhere in the room either. Okay, it's not that loud, but I can't even hear the clicking of the keys as I type.

    I should buy some more batteries. Actually I think I have some. I'll check...yes, I still have two of them in my bag for when this thing really starts to screw up.

    Some laminated letters stapled to the bulletin board above me:

    QUIET thinking in progress
    RESPECT yourself and others
    PREPARE bring materials
    FOCUS stay on task

    Are those supposed to be definitions or something "Focus means 'stay on task,' children." No, really? I thought it was the dial on my friggin' camera! I hate it when posters and the like try to state the obvious. Of course, this varies from person to person. Maybe those things aren't so obvious to some people. "See those posters," I might say, "those are statements of the obvious and I hate that." "Oh then you must hate all of these kinds of signs then," one peer may or may not say (probably not). "Well yes, I don't like any of them, but not because they are statements of the obvious. Most of them are either staing something that is true and obvious or something that is false and stupid. Like the one on the far side of the wall over there: 'Do your best and leave the rest to God...' Is that a statement of the obvious? No, it's just stupid and opinionatively false. Why is God going to give you a helping hand if you do your best? If you do your best, I should think that God wouldn't see it necessary to make you the victim of divine intervention and improve you even further. If I were God, I would not honor such a quotation. I'd be more concerned with helping the people who don't do their best because that makes the world a better place collectively. It's like rich people writing their opinion on the economic situation and living conditions of the city they live in. Will they comment on the slums that they live so far away from? No.

    Oh geez, I'm starting philosophical conversatoins with an imaginary classmate. I need to find something to do in this class.

  42. I just ingested 625 ml of Fruitsations® Raspberry Apple Blend stuff which is basically a digusting abominance of mankind consisting of raspberries, apples, water and sugar. This atrocious concoction bothers my mind just as much as my stomach. See, I'm tired of stupid advertising ploys. Unless they're REALLY REALLY stupid like on the old radio shows. Fruitsations?? What the hell is that!? Fruit doesn't even rhyme with 'sen' of 'sensations.' What kind of gimmicky, stupid, callow play on words is that! It doesn't even rhyme, pshaw!
  43. Computer class, oh joy! These entries are getting boring. I need to find some real content to put in them I think. Or maybe I just need some more subsequent sections to make the page look more complete. Blecch, I have nothing to talk about. This is going to be one weak paragraph.

    I will therefore change it. Great, now there's two weak paragraphs. I considered making it three but too much use of the background blue in one entry is rather tiresome on the eyes. Not that pages upon pages of white text isn't, but still; it looks way out of form. I certainly wish I had something to do in this class today. Every assignment that has been assigned is done. At the moment everyone else is working on their keyboarding which is something I really need practice on (shoot me). Dave also said he loved his old Volvo. Sorry, I'm just reading off the screen next to me. These typing programs just have some terrible sentences to help build your skills. How about something a little more common, rather than "Jade's flask as a lad's fad eghad!" That's the trouble with computer programs that are not designed for entertainment. Everything produced for these machines are either entertaining and mindless or inefficient suppliers of information and teaching. Typing programs are likened to the Encyclopedias that they somehow fit onto one CD. At one point in time, I'm sure the people who typed out all the encyclopedic data used another computer-based typing program to gain their speed. It's all connected. But where did it begin? I sometimes wonder about the origins of these things. What's a good example? How about a photocopier? Let's see what kind of interesting chain of events I can pick up from spontaneously babbling about photocopiers.

    Let's say you have a little application form or something that you need to photocopy. You take the form and you put it on the machine and you press the little button (which always happens to be green, by the way) and it does the work for you, giving you a brand new copy of the original document. But mayhaps that original document was, oh say, several hundred years old. But wait, this isn't the original document! It's a copy of the original document! How did it get here? The sheet of paper that you have just photocopied is actually just another copy of the original one. Where did the original come from? Well, judging by the quality of the print, it was probably printed off by a computer at one point. So what we are left with is the copy of a copy of a printed document. Wonderful. But they didn't have computers several hundred years ago. Who entered this data into a computer? They must have typed it up from some other really old piece of paper. Probably from a typewriter. So the original sheet of paper that was entered into the computer when technology began to shine was something that was typed up by someone else on a typewriter. But wait! Where did that come from? Sure, typewriters are old, but not as old as the original sheet of paper. The person who typed it up and entered the data of the document into the typewriter was obviously copying off of another sheet of paper. Where did that paper come from? Well, probably a printing press. There isn't really any other alternative. So the typist on the typewriter was copying off of a sheet of paper that was originally printed on a printing press. Naturally, the person who entered the data into the printing press was probably copying off of the very original sheet of paper having been written out by hand. So what's the final product? The copy of the form that you now have is actually a carbon copy of a carbon copy of a computer-printed document copied off of a typewritten paper that has been copied off of the product of a printing press whose data originates from a handwritten sheet of paper. Actually, technology these days and the laziness of man leads me to believe that the typewritten document wasn't typed into the computer; probably just scanned then printed, then copied then copied again by the person in question. This being YOU.

    Well that was a fun ramble. I'm enjoying this class, though I can't imagine why. doesn't seem to want to load on this computer and it's rather depressing. I wish I knew of some other dictionary website. I'm sure Webster's has one. I'm attempting to load it now but it seems to be pretty hopeless. What is it? I just don't know and I'm far too lazy to run a search engine for the sake of one teensy-weensy insignificant adverb. Hey it worked!, that is. Wow, these people bought the domain name. Interesting. I should pay attention to the Word of the Day. I thought I typed in an e-mail subscription to that, but I have never received anything from them. I'm going to try and do that again now.

    DiEt cetera is officially kicking ass. It has just over 200 hits now, whatever that means. I urge everyone to download the Visual Basic Slider 2.0 because it is, after all, the very last 3x3 sliding puzzle game you will EVER NEED! For the complete infomercial, I refer you to the link placed mischeviously in the middle of the previous sentence.

  44. Am I supposed to understand the fashion trends of the everchanging civilization? If I am, don't test me on it because god!! Granted, every generation has their decent-looking styles of apparel but most of them, no matter which time frame they spawn from, look really really bad. For example, I liken the styles of the 1950's to the look of the cowboys of the latter 1800's. The outfit doesn't exactly look that bad but the bottom of a bell-shaped dress with the circumference of a skating rink is just not necessary, and I'm sorry but tight jeans are just ugly. Another thing about the fifties and the infamous overuse of hairstyling products, namely gel, makes it appear as though every guy is walking around with a bird's nest glued to their scalp. Was that really necessary? Look at John Travolta's hair in Grease. What an ugly looking do! If I were a bird, I wouldn't even want to live in there.

    Actually, the main reason I began ranting about styles of clothing is to point out all the "evil" people I associate with. There is an entire genre of clothing and related apparel devoted to three types of styles that I don't understand at all: punks, goths and the girls with all that makeup. I might be defining these terms incorrectly when I place certain individuals into these categories. First I examine the 'girls with all that makeup' section because I have the least to say about it. One of the biggest problems I have with it is that some guys even fall into this category. Cologne is the best example of this little mix-up. Anyway, as I was about to say, the first person that comes to mind when I think about this category is Ashley Vay a rather plump, arrogant, pompous human being whose actual face has not likely ever been seen. She is buried under makeup constantly and insists on layering it whenever she has a spare moment. Stand within a metre's radius of this person and you will be choking on perfume and quite possibly swimming in it if the room is humid. The use of makeup is one thing and I can tolerate it when the amounts are moderate. And as much as it is against a typical respectable cynic's way of thinking, makeup does in fact improve the appearance of many people. But when used in excess beyond even the most outrageous hyperbolic number, it begins to make these people look like action figures! Why would you want to look so plastic and so fake? It's just ugly, for lack of a better expression. And then you insist on damaging another of the five senses by marinating your clothing in Chanel No. 5 every night!? And then, oh lord, these people try to speak! Ow! My Ears! It hurts, it hurts. How can you say things that are so stupid? It's a good thing I don't have to touch and taste these freaks of artificial nature. The mere thought of it is repulsive. And then they have the audacity to stop working in the middle of class, reach into their bag and draw up an entire mannicure kit with thousands of shades of eye shadow and blush and a collection of whatever the hell those pencils are forming a distinct parabola defining frequent color usage along the side. And while everyone else pays attention to what the teacher is saying (if that were only true) they sit their and embellish themselves even further to the point where the actual gender of this person under the makeup is completely indecipherable.

    Then we have the complete opposite, in my eyes. The "punks" as they are sometimes referred to. This particular fashion style of the modern day teenager consists of extremely baggy pants. Although I think tight pants are rather ugly, the same theory can be taken to both extremes. Anyone who wears jeans that consist of enough denim to carpet the school gymnasium does not belong in this civilization of walking people. Oh, but this isn't my biggest slab of beef towards these people, no. I'll stay on the lower body for now, though. No need to venture into rants on body piercings yet. Instead let's examine these "cool" people who think that it's "cool" to have your "cool" wallet attached to your "cool" carpet jeans with a "really cool" chain. Holy Christ this pisses me off!! Is that really necessary? These people have their wallets sitting securely in the back pocket of their pants, and they decide to attach a series of small steel links to hook to the belt loop in the waist. Why!? Some of these chains are huge. Absolutely huge. I've seen small chains before and wasn't bothere by it, but geez, some of these things people are sticking to their wallets are thick enough to drag a fuckin' horse trailer! Some of these people actually use industrial chains to attach to their wallets. And for those somewhat "cool" sissies who can't handle the extra weight, why not just have a really long chain? Say maybe twice your height? Sure, no problem. Instead of having the burden of dragging around fifty pounds of titanium alloy, you're just not allowed to walk anywhere. Worse yet, many of these people make combinations. Although I haven't seen very many industrial-strength copper chains that are fifteen feet long, I do see some people with multiple chains attached to their wallet? Some are heavy, some are long. Some have little grungy stuffed animals hooked onto them by a novelty keyring stolen from their parents' first trip to Leon's. Maybe a light-up toy here and there. This is an ugly ugly ugly addition to your clothing. Does it look good? Does it look cool to have sixteen paperweights dangling from a cheap dog collar all the way down to your ankles? No. Explain the logic by which someone would come to the conclusion that this is a visually pleasant fashion statement. I haven't heard anything sensible yet and until I do, I'll assume that everyone understands how stupid it looks and ask this: WHY! Why would you want this? I have actually heard people talk about it being a "security issue." What the fuck, man! "Think about it, dude. If someone tries to take my wallet, they won't be able to 'cos it's attached to the chain which is locked securely to my belt loop." Oh there's a good reason you stupid shit. This way, you'll be left with no wallet and no pants lying bleeding in the Zellers parking lot with only some broken pieces of chain to cry over. Hell, if they're really determined, they'll use the damn chain to strangle you or something. By wearing this chain, you're asking for a good old fashioned mugging. Pickpockets are usually unsuccessful in their attempts because while they are very good at reaching into someone's pocket without being noticed, the trouble is guessing which pocket contains the valuable item. So you're walking around with a chain on your belt loop that forms a distinct metal trail into your back pocket that's just begging to be slipped into. ["Damn, I've tried three times now and no luck guessing the right pocket. What about that guy?" "No, not him, let's just go down to the local high school and find one of those freaks with the chain hanging out of their pants."] Please, if anybody has any rational reasoning behind the use of nine or ten chains connecting your wallet to your paints, please e-mail me! I'm confused.

    Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes, moving on to the grunge look I associate with punks. Perhaps I'm the only one who has noticed this, but every single person coming from this particular fashion movement wears clothing that is dirty, old, faded, ripped and/or destroyed in some way. I'm not picky about clothing at all, but it's as though these people intentionally ruin perfectly good clothes just to look more punk-esque, if I dare grace that word with the glory of the suffix "esque." Maybe the entire punk fashion is made up of a lower economic class and their revolution to get noticed in today's popular world. Maybe the very first punk was just some guy who wanted to dress normally but couldn't because his parents worked for minimum wage in an adult bookstore while struggling to maintain a steady income with the less than substantial assistance of welfare. Maybe that's how it all started and perhaps this kid was popular for reasons that make sense (like a good personality, for instance) and everyone thought it would be cool if they could be as popular as him. So they started to dress like him and it's turned into this wretched ugly collection of potheads who do terrible in school because they always have to borrow someone else's pen and all they can think of is "Shit, I should've attached a chain to my binder and my pen. That way I'd never lose it. Plus, nobody would dare try and steal it!" What's wrong with you people?

    This brings me to hairstyles of the punks, though I can't imagine why. Do you know what appears to be common in these publically shameful citizens when it comes to hair? Imagine this. Squirt a gob of gel into the palm of your hand. Whether or not you choose to spread it out a bit before applying it to your scalp is basically optional. So anyway, you just take the gel in your hands and attempt to mess up your hair as badly as possibly, intentionally trying to make it look like a disorganized mess of spikes and valleys and perhaps coincidentally shaping it into various geographical locations around the world. It looks stupid and just...messy. It's like using a towel to dry your hair after a shower and then leaving it that way for the rest of the day. Assuming that it would stay that way without the aid of some bottled products.

    And now I'm onto the body-piercing fad. While not exclusive to punks, it seems to be a popular addition to the chain-wielding, gel-wasting cool people. First I'll make it clear that I'm not picking on a certain form of body-piercing, but rather all of it. Ear-piercing included. Most people who are against things like tongue rings and eyebrow rings and all that have absolutely no problem with ear-piercing, and I think this is a biased judgment from the baby boomer generation. My beef with ear-piercing is not as deep as the others of course, because it has been around for so long. But trust me, if I was around when the ear-piercing fad came into practice, I wouldn't have approved of it at all. Time has passed though, and I have gotten used to it against my will. I suppose this will one day happen with all the other weird body-piercings, assuming they stick around for a few generations, but right now, I can express disapproval justly. As with all of my fashion ranting, my question is why you would do this to yourself? Why would you want an ugly chrome bar implanted along your eyebrow? Why would you want some ball bearing on a stick hanging out of your tongue? I just don't see how something like this could possibly be advantageous to your appearance. Is there actually someone in the world who looks better with a colourful bar hanging out of each nostril while a distinct rainbow arch of rings decorates their eyebrows? No. People just look better without these things. Even if there are people who look good with these miniature radio antennas protruding from the surface of their skin, they will most definitely look better without them. It's not an improvement. It's like alcohol. Sure, there might be some alcohols that taste good, but can you imagine how much better they would be if there was no alcohol in them?

    I've decided not to form an elaborate rant about goths because now that I think about it, I just look at these people as a "classier" version of punks. It's the same fashion group without the ratty clothing and they generally have long hair without an extreme overuse of gel. Sometimes you get those extremist goths who go with all the white makeup to further their attempts to make themselves look evil. What is this fascination with evil lately? Everyone wants to look evil and depressing and dress in all black and everyone's favourite color is black. I just don't understand. Why be like this? Why not try to be happy? Happiness is certainly a more pleasant way to live. How could you draw so much pleasure from having everyone else go out of their way to avoid talking to you? I won't even start on the queer black nail polish that they all love, regardless of gender, because boy does that ever piss me off. It's just that this fascination with darkness and evil and death and all that is completely impenetrable. I couldn't possibly convert these people to a pleasant way of life if I tried. They're all just trapped and there's nothing I can do about it, though I wish I could. Lighten up for a change, please.

  45. I'm adding this entry in the middle of computer class just for Chris Wong, who seemed to be marginally disappointed that I didn't have anything new since the above fashion rant. He should be reading this next period. So I hereby dedicate this entry to you. "HI CHRIS WONG!!" Ew...

    I've only got about three minutes here so I'll have to think of something quick and type it even quicker. The teacher has inadvertently closed the previous copy of this entry causing me to have to re-type everything and I hate typing things that I've already done. Re-doing stuff sucks. I probably won't add another in-school entry for awhile. At least a few hours. Actually, I might try to do something academic. I have a couple of things I can do. I still need to pay these schoolish ingrates to get my religion course. Again. Blecch, that's such a bother. I've grown weary of mandatory spirituality lessons where you sit in the class and watch the half-educated instructor talk about her stories as a social worker and the really moving tale of the kid whose father turned a screw into his hand. Show me a picture and maybe it'll be more entertaining. Otherwise, I'm leaving.

    Uh oh, the clock says it's 10:10 and that means the bell is supposed to ring. I'd better be fast on the save. Good thing I don't really have any books or anything to pack up. That's the great thing about these computer classes is the extreme lack of necessary materials. Well, maybe I'll put my project thing into my folder and get out of here. Toodle-oo.

  46. It has come to my attention that there is a whole flock of human beings who are hated by everyone simply because of the way they behave, and they know this, yet they don't do anything about it. If I was hated by everyone because of my personality, I would change it. Does that sound selfish to you? No, I don't think so. That's what personalities are all about; interacting with other people. What's the point of having a personality if you don't talk to anyone? It's useless. So why is it that these social outcasts don't change the way they act? You know everyone hates you and you know exactly why. If you don't know why, you're even stupider than you look. Why can't these things be spotted? Why don't you change? We would be an immeasurably better species if people stopped giving others reasons to hate them.

    Chris Broughton was passing around a booklet of seemingly random content during the lunch hour today. I believe it is supposed to be a journal or a personal organizer or something but when you open it up it certainly defies the plethora of office etiquette that I see on the title page. It's full of small musings by Chris and others whom he passes the book around to. There is some magazine clippings and little quiz questions and various little "colouring book" activities for the simple-minded. And it's rather good. There is very little intelligeble original speech in it, but that can be expected simply because the book has made the rounds and not everyone is capable of such an ideal perspective. The book is entertaining though and I found myself scanning the pages and realizing that it was actually quite similar to this website. I don't think my Et cetera idea is all that original after all. Sure, the specifications of it are unique but the concept of having a page of randomized content is not new at all. Well, this is just a book I'm comparing it to, but the content could easily be extracted from there and uploaded onto a website and appear to be similar in content as this Et cetera mini-network I've got going. Fascinating stuff. It always turns out this way, too. I think I'm doing something original and it turns out that it isn't all that new. In retrospect, the same law of creativity is applicable to, which I once considered a very unique page. Who woulda thunk it? Someone posting an online journal of their deepest darkest secrets for all to read. But you'd be amazed at the amount of online journals there are. Left and right, run a search and you'll find thousands of pages that focus on only that: the online journal. is rather lengthy in comparison, but the concept is not really unique despite the distinctly individual webmaster.

    I have no idea how to advertise. If more people read this, I would be a lot more comfortable with adding all kinds of stuff to it. These entries always seem pointless when I think that I get about twenty hits a day. How many is that a year? 7400? Something like that? Yeah, something like that. Yet, did you know that the Ty Beanie Babies website got close to 3˝ billion hits per year? That's a frightening statistic and I don't understand how such a commercial site gets such a huge volume of readers? I don't even want to think about how many annual visits hit the popular search engines. But those are tools, I understand that. The Beanie Babies website?? Is it that exciting? I've purposely avoided visiting it to find out myself, but geez, how entertaining could a page about inanimate embalming be? I read the interesting things on the internet, despite the extreme difficulty I experience in finding them. Doesn't anybody else take the time to look for something worthwhile? The web is just one very very busy wire of junk and even though there's a lot going on, it's all just dead air in the end.

    Take this gun and beat up the wall behind me using my brains as a weapon."

    Yay! I made up a suicidal, depressing quotation! I'm not really feeling that dour but I though it was an alright quote so I'm posting it here so I don't forget it later. That's the great thing about web-based page editing. No matter where you are, provided there is a several thousand-dollar piece of machinery and a monthly bill for the internet paid by the landowners of the local address, you can always write something down when you need to. Or you could just carry a pencil and a small sheet of paper in your pocket.

  47. I didn't expect to ever dedicate two entries to Chris Wong but that's just the way it works today. You see, the individual in question is having a little bit of fun with these special mushrooms that are highly illegal but he doesn't seem to care. Anyway, the purpose of this entry is certainly not the text. I somehow doubt he can read right now (or rather at the time of his attempted reading). Anyway, let's hope the visualization is a little more applicable to his comprehension:

    Congratulations. It's the second image to be embedded into an Et cetera entry. Good stuff. And much prettier than the last one I must say. That purity certificate way back in number 8 or 9 or something like that is rather ugly. Just in case Chris can't read this small text I'm going to post a rather large link to a page that might very well kill him in that condition:

    Click here, Chris! And explore!

    Oh that's gonna be brutal.
  48. As I suspected, the above entry was just a grand waste of effort as the peers in question didn't acquire their drugs during today's school hours. I believe the event is rescheduled for tomorrow but I'm not certain that will go so smoothly either. This seems like a weekend adventure, if anything. Does this sort of thing have to be done in the middle of a school? Of course it does; that's conformity.

    Anyway, onto more interesting matters. I just emerged from my creative writing class under the newfound discovery that I have to hand in a complete piece of writing by Friday. I was a little bit stuck there. I have spent this past month in a creative writing class and I have completely forgotten that I actually do write stories. What an astonishing discovery! I haven't sat down to really write anything since Christmas Eve when I finished the novel and that was the end of it. For some reason, I just haven't had the incentive to stretch out those flamboyant finger muscles and type like there's no tomorrow (which there isn't, but that's another generic theory I happen to agree with and don't have to explain). So anyway, I got the teacher's permission to initiate a small excursion to the classroom next door so I could use a computer to write something. I had had an idea going for awhile based on the theory of the Earth having once been nothing but a molten mass where there was constant rain, or something like that, but I had no idea how to construct a story out of it. So I basically just sat down and started writing. This seems like such a backwards thing to do after a month of literary abstinence. As I was writing, it came to my attention that what was appearing on screen was a story about raindrops that were capable of conscious thought. Sort of. It's just a couple of background paragraphs followed by some more brief sentences dealing with raindrops and what raindrops would say if they could talk and how raindrops would feel and think if they were forced to do the same thing over and over again. In short, it was really fuckin' weird. But not all that bad. Reading over the content of my brief snippet to the story, I wasn't disappointed with the construction of any of the sentences like I usually am. Could it be because I took this break from writing and now I'm refreshed? Or could it be that I took this break from writing and now I have forgotten what a crappy sentence looks like? I can't decide.

    So now I've stumbled into ExOp again and weasled my way out of that terrible classroom into the library where the computers are considerably better and don't usually crash in the middle of an entry. It's very relieving to be able to safely write an in-school Et cetera entry without opening notepad and copying and pasting and all that other crap into the webpage editory. Ugly process. I wonder if I can go to the library every period. That's not a bad idea, I'll look into that. That would probably mean at least one new entry every school day not to mention anything additional that I throw on here on the weekend or during the period of leisure time I have before and after school on weekdays.

    Speaking of adding a lot of entries, I expect that there will be a point when this main page just gets too huge. Then I'll be forced to actually create a new index with the entries on it. I'm very uncomfortable with this because, well, it's just not proper to what I had in mind for the page. But again, it's ultimately necessary to have subsequent directories to store these on. I'm sure many of the readers will appreciate it, but I always liked everything on one page. The question I'm facing now is "when should I create a second page for entries?" I thought maybe Entry #50 would be a good time to do that, but it's really not all that big yet. Of course, the size of the page varies with the size of the entries as well. Just for organization, though, I'll separate it based on the number rather than the size of the existing data. Oh what a terrible situation. I'll have to look into how I will format the numbers for a separate page. I'm not really sure how to start a list at a number other than 1. Maybe I'll break it off at 60. Then #61-120 will be shown on the following page. That seems reasonable. Of course, I'll double check when I reach sixty to see if I can cram anymore on here without any trouble, but you catch my drift.

    I'm looking at the cement pillar standing about a meter adjacent to this computer desk. All the rocks and stones are plainly visible in the concrete, as it is with most concrete things. Except for sidewalks. Why is it that they pave the sidewalk so well that the rocks and stones aren't even visible unless you take a sledge hammer to it and examine the innards of the block. Seems kind of pointless. Why not just use asphalt? I think it's equally smooth. But why is smoothness an issue anyway? When I fall off a bike and slide headfirst into the concrete of the sidewalk, "wow this is smooth" isn't the first thing that comes to mind.

    Wow, this is a really boring selection of minutes I'm taking part in here. I certainly have added a lot of stuff to this page in the past 24 hours or so. I should probably get to work on some more peoples' profiles. Three of them are up now. I can't really call them complete, because they are always subject to change. Okay, well, that's enough from me.

  49. I'm thinking that maybe all of these entries should have a small little picture to them. Maybe. But maybe not. I don't know. It was just an idea I had to maybe attach a theme to all of them, but some of these entries are so short that there's no way I could enhance by adding a photograph. Ugh...I hate starting entries that seem like there's a lot to say about a certain topic but then running out of stuff to talk about.

    Is it just me or is Claire Daines ungodly attractive? I've questioned this many times before but I've discovered that it definitely requires a smile. I ascertained my opinion on the matter while looking at a small picture on the back of the Brokedown Palace video which I purchased several minutes later. In fact, I'll scan that and put it right here after I finish the entry. Actually there's not much more to say. I might as well end it now.

  50. While attempting to do a Microsoft Excel assignment here at school, the program has mysteriously froze after attempting to save. Internet Explorer however, has not. So now I have this frozen excel in another window and this trusty Angelfire editor in another. I figure if I can't do any real work, I might as well waste time on Et cetera. This is entry number 50, by the way. Woo hoo! More wasted space on the internet. Actually, I've come to the conclusion that this isn't entirely a waste. Apparently there are some people enjoy reading this. A couple of strangers have come around to this site recently, actually. I recently got a survey submission from a one Cassie. I think her name was Cassie, yeesh I hope I didn't screw that up otherwise my memory is really failing me. So anyway, we'll use this entry to say hello to Cassie, a candy raver who owns a considerable amount of plastic jewellry as the pictures on her website seem to suggest. I would link that right now, but I can't quite remember the address so you'll have to take my word for it.

    I've got about twenty minutes to waste here so I might as well bring up DiEt cetera Entry #7. Although I am glad someone else noticed all the atheists who listen to satanic music because it's "cool," the whole rant seems a bit perturbed. I much prefer to tralineate to the positive sides of it, however. Especially the opinions on "God-bashing" as the pasttime has been so eloquently dubbed. Though I occasionally participate in this ritual, I get tired of hearing things that these atheists say to purposely disrepute religion whose principal argument requires that the speaker believes in God. That's just like people who talk about the bible being contradictory to argue in support of atheism. I don't like hearing things like, "How can people be so stupid that they believe in God who has obviously let them down so many times?" Especially when it's the self-proclaimed atheists who say this. Why would you say something like that if you're an atheist? The argument assumes that you believe in God and believe that God has let these people down time and time again. No, that's not right. Being an atheist, you should never argue against God himself, but the existence of God. Arguing against God himself is antitheism which is a far cry from atheism, I can tell you that despite the confusion the two unwillingly participate in sometimes. I know I'm sort of being nitpicky with what people say here but I'm the one who purposely goes out of his way to avoid saying "bless you" when someone sneezes simply because of religious connotations. I sure wish I were agnostic. That would make things so much easier.

    Five minutes to go. Time to sneak in something interesting. Here's an idea! Nonsensical delineation!

    So the purple cows just won't leave me alone until the Y calls back with their bank statement and the freaky chicken with no eyes gives me back my oil pants. The shorts haven't come back from the drycleaners yet, by the way, even though I opened their dog food bag for them. You'd think someone might show me some respect around here but the frickin' banner man and his stupid underwear won't leave the sanitation plant without falling off the ass. Jackass, that is. Ha ha. That would be funny. Can you picture an Arabian guy or a cartoon with a turban riding through the desert on an ass? Ha ha. Anyways, the red humanity won't be political until I eat the froth from the theologist's bathtub-shaped croissant. Forks just won't do, I need to have a fork instead so the squirrel will leave me alone and quit eating all that grub sitting at the bottom of the vomitous pig feed. It was forbidden to be a big coward around the dean of the choose-land forthright mink big chicken claws. Too bad, huh? Hehe...ass.

  51. ExOp: The class where people get stupid. Which is what happens around here. This is not a neutral learning environment. People don't get anything out of it, but somehow they manage to decrease in intelligence over the eighty-five minutes spent in the room. It really seems that way. I sit here typing away some nonsensical babble and subconsciously listen to the conversations around me and it seems as though the ubiquitous intellect of the students has dropped to an all-time low. People who were once smart say things that make no sense and are bound to understanding through quackery. Wow, I never thought I'd use THAT word in context.

    For reasons of consonance, I actually have a small bracelet of cheap plastic scented pearls around my wrist. I don't expect I'll keep this up for long, but it's just one of those things that everyone seems to do. Yuck, I hate conformity. Especially when it involves things that I would otherwise object to. Like thieving potato chips from the broken vending machine. Yes, that's the big news at lunch today. Someone smashed the vending machine glass and soon a mob gathered to take as many free food items as possible before the janitors and teachers got in there. Apparently the change machine had also been opened due to the force of impact and now it's empty too. It amazes me how fast people react to things like that. Well, the speed not so much as the direction of their advertency. People are quick to react, but the thing they're reacting to is the ability to receive free food. Not something insignificant like, say, the person lying on the ground in a pool of blood because of the broken glass. I'm sure that would have received attention had it been the case, but I can bet that the vending machine comestibles would not remain untouched.

    I admire actors. In fact, I admire anyone who can entertain someone else by stepping out of their own character even if it is just briefly and they don't consider themselves actors. It is beyond me how some people can so effectively re-enact scenes or past matters without the slightest bit of nerve. I can't even say the hermaphrodite paradox to someone if another who has already heard it is present. What kind of thinking is that, I wonder? Could that be some bizarre form of selfishness and self-doubt blended into one heinous concoction of unsavoury traits? Grr...I don't like doing that and I do it all the time. Everytime I think of one of my traits that submits to the overall product of being a social failure, I always assume that it is selfishness of some sort. But do I really value myself so much as to put my own needs on a pedestal above everyone else's? I don't think so, but maybe I don't know for sure. Now and then I confess that I become an elated, self-righteous prick, but I do it around people like Jeff Vander Elzen so as to try and prove to him that he might not be the coolest, funniest guy in the world. There are people that just need to get a clue and take some of their selfishness out of their system. I doubt I've mentioned Jeff before, but he's basically a Grade A moron who dresses all "punk" and what not with his neato wallet chain and takes every opportunity available to say something stupid that he finds absolutely hysterical. See, today, in art class, I decided to see just what would happen if someone would give him a clue. I'm not one todo this too often, but I do enjoy the occasional slap-someone-in-the-face-with-word. Chris Broughton has a little booklet where people write things and paste magazine cutouts or whatever; it's aptly titled the "shit book." So anyway, I decide to start a new section titled "Insert Your Opinion of Jeff" and I did. I simply wrote what I thought of him and expressed it as best as I could using words. Of course, he reads this book quite frequently and I wasn't hesitant to let him review the new section. I can't decipher whether he was hurt or not but he was affected by it enough to write a response that was about as typical as you can expect from a pompous, egotistical pothead with an IQ comparable to his shoe size. Here's an excerpt (mind the spelling and grammatical errors):

    Randall: A witty, smart ass. He 'blends' in with the crowd and is afraid to make the step from computer nerd to man. He waists his time making un-constructive critisism and thinking up new ways to 'insult.' Oh, big words. Well, we'll see who gets laid first.

    That's probably not verbatim, but you get the idea. Yeah, it was fun. I should borrow the book from Chris and scan that page just to show everyone the unique little magazine cutout photo that he glued to the side of his response as a hypothetical portrait of me. It was a desecrated drawing of Robin Hood and apparently it was appropriate. After all, being the computer nerd that I am, I'm constantly spearing dead cats with Friar John's trusty pike. I'm smiling. His stupidity is rather enlightening.

  52. I've decided to quit debating whether or not I should write this entry and just sit down and do it. This will be my last attempt to get it through the one-track minds of my friends that this fascination with alcohol and drugs and several other things that you think are so cool, is not a good thing. The trouble is, where do I begin? Where do I start so that my points won't be completely ignored? Or maybe that's what I should do, is that it? Maybe I should bring up a whole bunch of things that you will refute immediately just so I can maybe make it clear how narrowminded your perception really is. Did you know that there are possibly hundreds of different things that I have tried to bring up with you people before and even though you think today that those topics are dead, believe me, they're very alive in my head. I think about these things all the time. Good example? Once upon a time I had the aplomb to actually mention to two of you individual--actually, screw anonymity; I refuse to honor you with aliases--to Jonathan and Richard on a brisk walk down 17th avenue that I felt as though my opinions were not respected. That you didn't find them valid. I told you this. This is a direct dispersion of an emotion that bothered me a lot. Yes, I told you that you didn't find my opinions valid and that my opinions weren't respected. But wait! Who am I to tell you what you think? As can be expected, both of you, well primarily Richard being the one who spoke, responded with a fine re-assurance that you do value my opinions and respect what I say. After all, where could I get such a ludicrous idea? Maybe you were being honest about that. Maybe your mentality tells you that, yes, you do respect Randall's opinions. Could be. But still, this just means that you don't realize what you do all the time. Nearly everytime I express my opinion which happens to be contradictory to your own, I get a harsh offensive rebuttal that nobody seems to notice. Of course, these are just descriptions; just words thrown together for me to try and sharply define what it is I'm talking about. But nobody will understand what I'm talking about until I offer an example, so here goes. Hmm, musical taste comes to mind. I really hate to bring Mitchell into this but he's the only entirely sensible one who can be used in this comparison. So anyway, I'm using musical taste as my example and even though it is trivial, insignificant things in large quantities develop massive stress. I'm always getting put down, especially by Jonathan, for my taste in music, which is very broad and that seems to be the problem. (By the way Jon, you're not going to be the only one who will be pissed off by reading this entry) Now anyway, I've conducted tests on how your actual musical taste affects the musical taste that you want everybody to think you have. I mostly associate this comparison with your fascination with rap and rave music as opposed to bubble gum pop music and anything that's old enough to be categorized as "classic rock." I realize that people have different tastes in music but everytime that I suggest something that I think you might enjoy it is for the sake of that one image of someone who listens to primarily rave and rap that you won't value the song. I mentioned Pink Floyd once and you expressed disinterest in that immediately, yet later on found out that one of their songs was cool because the lyrics included "I need you babe, to put you through the shredder in front of my friends. Why are you running away?" Murder is cool isn't it? Yes, murder is cool these days and killing things is cool and shooting up the school is cool and violence is cool blood is cool knives are cool all weapons are cool death is cool destruction is cool and anyone who cleans up the garbage that all of you stupid fucks throw all over the place at lunch is not quite as cool as them. Why is it, Jonathan, that you purposely go out of your way to develop the social image of someone who is evil, depressed, morbid and again, I emphasize evil? You are not evil and morbid as your social personality indicates. Just because you talk about killing all the ugly people and shoving grenades down peoples' throats and drowning cute babies and puppies in the blood of your victims, it doesn't make you evil. Anyone can say these things, but whether or not you could do them is the question. Could you actually go through with that shit? Of course you can, of course you can. I've heard it all before. I've heard the reasoning. But the really evil people are not like you at all. Take your survey response for example. The question asks "Can you think of a more efficient way to communicate data to large groups of people (other than a whiteboard or chalkboard)?" Your answer: "put a gun to their heads and explain to them how far the their brains will fly into the wall if they dont shut the f*ck up and listen." That's some evil shit right there, especially the part where the letter U in "fuck" was bleeped out by an asterisk. But believe me the censoring of the word is not my argument against how morbid you really are. It's the message itself. You might think that threatening people with a gun and gory messages is the best way to present them data, but the point is, you listen to your mother in the morning when she tells you to take your vitamin in the morning. That is not exemplary of an evil human being. I can already imagine the kinds of things you're thinking to contradict what I've said but you know, if anything your thinking is true, it is only because you've misinterpreted what I typed here. Everything I am writing is correct as I see it everyday. Getting back to the idea that my opinion is not valued, I will return to the thing with musical taste. Actually, I'm not going to go on about that right now because I know I can't convince you.

    Now to get going on the activity once referred to as "social drinking." My idea. My idea entirely. I take full credit for it but I am ashamed at what it's turned into. There are three things that you guys talk about nowadays. There are only three. You're either bashing religion, talking about killing something or talking about drinking. That's it, I'm serious. I watch for these things. I'll focus on the alcohol for now. Keep in mind that when I first thought of the idea of social drinking, I was watching my father and my neighbour sitting at the kitchen table at about three thirty in the morning getting drunk and talking about angles and the mathematics of a certain piece of woodworking my neighbour was doing in his house. Every once in awhile, my dad would stand up and go over to the counter and mix a rum and coke for himself and my neighbour. And they would casually drink those while talking. That was the whole idea of social drinking. It was just a social event. Fine, that's not a problem at all. At this time, Richard didn't drink and didn't smoke and didn't do drugs and didn't want to touch any of them. After all, wouldn't want to turn out like your father, huh? It was on the bus one day that I told him about my social drinking idea and convinced him that the drinking wasn't so bad as it might sound. Whether he remembers this conversation or not, this is how it happened, trust me. So my best argument was that I have no problem with drinking because at least it is legal. I wouldn't have "social drugs" because well no matter what age you do those at, it's illegal. The consumption of alcohol is fine. At least they can sell that in a store without getting busted by the cops. It can't be all that bad. And that's what I used to convince him that social drinking was an okay idea. Plus, it would be fun. And it was. Oh, but Richard you don't know how much you've changed. You don't even have a clue. Your basic morale has stayed the same, but everything else is different. Be nostalgic for awhile and maybe think about how you used to be. You won't notice that drastic change because you see yourself on the inside. I, however, see you on the outside and I see how you treat people today as opposed to how you treated people back then. At one point in the history of social drinking, you introduced Colts, the small branch of cigars as an enjoyable festivity to top it off with the 'no smoking' rule of thumb you held for awhile. And drugs, well, drugs. Do I even have to talk about this!? Drugs are the very thing that I used to turn you into a supporter of social drinking. I simply said "at least it isn't drugs." And you seemed to see the logic in that and came to the social drinking ritual of long ago. Fine, but what now? One day, pot became okay. It was okay to get high. It's only weed. It's legal for medicinal purposes in some regions! What the fuck!? When did this come about? When did it become okay? Don't get me wrong, I'm not some paranoid, overprotective peer with a college major in Iknowwhat'srightandyoudon't. I don't particularily care if you do weed or not, but I'm wondering why it became an okay thing. What changed you? I'm going to skip ahead a bit here and backtrack when necessary. About...oh three months ago or so, I haven't really been keeping track, there began a rather large drinking spree. Richard and Chris Broughton set out to break a record, I guess. Anyway, it became a weekend ritual to go and get drink. Often. Too often. Every weekend that was the first thing that came to mind. "Hey, want to come get drunk with us?" All the time. So it got to a point where for Richard and Chris I believe it was 6 weekends IN A ROW, where you got drunk everytime. Now here is my big chance to quote something in my ICQ message history with Chris Wong who participated in several of these adventures. You see, they were "cut" from alcohol for awhile. 'Because you know, they just had a little too much. So I thought, "good, they have been having too much. It's about time they took a break." So, the very next weekend, they all went and got drunk again! I was distressed but not really surprised I guess. Shortly after this, the SEVENTH weekend in a row, I had an online conversation with Chris Wong that contained this snippet of text:

    Chris: Cool. you know, blue 100 is not near as bad as Rich and Chris said. And my new nichname is noodle now.
    Randall: Oh I have no interest in any of that. Richard's seventh weekend in a row was a stupid stupid idea. It's getting out of hand.
    Chris: We're done for now. At least a month or so. We have it on video, so we won't forget.
    Randall: Forgetting isn't the issue. It's denial. Richard himself claimed to be "cut" after the sixth weekend there.
    Chris: Yeah, but we will this time. Seriously. We will.

    I put heavy emphasis on that last line. He was serious. And I trusted him, I believed that. This conversation took place on a Sunday. THE VERY NEXT DAY, during lunch hour AT SCHOOL they spontaneously decided to SKIP the afternoon to go buy LIQUOR and get DRUNK! THE VERY NEXT DAY!! I thought I could trust my friends. They had it on video so they wouldn't forget! I told you forgetting wasn't the issue. You people deny your little promise to stop drinking for awhile just so you can skip school to do it the day after your mini-pact. So what happened then? The beginning of February, you all created a pact. This big, ultra-significant pact that everyone promised they would abide to that nobody will go drinking for ONE month. And that was good. That was okay for awhile. But this goddamn temptation that everyone is feeling screws everyone up. At a certain point during February, that became all they could talk about. Alcohol. Drinking. Liquor. Can't shut up about it. You people are fucking alcoholics and I hope you're proud of it. Oh you think I'm wrong already, don't you? Let me rephrase that then. TO ME, you are fucking alcoholics. You know where I get that from? Here's my logic accompanied with a bad analogy. To me, an alcoholic is someone who has an extreme obsession with alcohol. Imagine some kid who went around the school telling everyone about Britney Spears. This kid knows all about Britney Spears, her background, her song lyrics and everything. Suppose you talked to this kid who talks about Britney Spears constantly for awhile. You talk to him for, say, two weeks. It gets annoying because he just can't shut up about Britney Spears. But secretly, he has made a pact with all his queer friends that he can't listen to Britney Spears for a month because he's just had a bit too much lately. So you know how he remedies that situation? Well, he just talks about Britney constantly with everyone and listens to Christina Aguilera B-sides to get his fill of cute pop music for the day. But even though he hasn't listened to Britney Spears for a full month, you would look at this kid and identify him as a person with an extreme obsession with Britney Spears. This is EXACTLY what is happening with alcohol. Substitute Britney Spears with liquor and Christina Aguilera B-sides with drugs and the story of the month-long alcohol-free pact has been told. All you talk about is alcohol and occasionally you talk about drugs while you aren't doing them. INSTEAD of alcohol, everyone involved with this pact has agreed that DRUGS are a decent substitute. "Oh it's okay if we do drugs as long as we don't get drunk or anything." What the fuck kind of stupid pact is this!? Why do you bother having a pact at all!? What good does it do you to stop drinking for a month? Tell me that. Especially if you're just going to do drugs as an alcohol substitute. The pact was fucking worthless and meant nothing. It meant that you can stop drinking for a month as long as there is some sort of illegal substitute. And what problem does it solve? Nothing. It gets you nowhere. You've stopped drinking for a month just so you can go back to drinking every weekend and the occasional schoolday again! You've solved nothing! What was the purpose of the pact!? And just for the record, the pact didn't go so well anyway. Two people broke pact and Chris Broughton got everyone excited about doing mushrooms when he got really whacked out on those one day during school. So now everyone is really desperate to try mushrooms just because they saw how much fun he was having. And of course, everyone has planned this huge "end of pact" celebration and you've bought so much alcohol that you might die consuming it. It's all planned out real nice and a bunch of people are coming and you're all going to get really plastered to celebrate the newfound ability to drink again on March the 2nd! Great, good for you! But please, try to remember who you really are for once.

    Richard, do you remember who you were when we talked to Deanna about the milkman? Do you remember who you were when we talked on the phone till late at night to develop ideas for a novel? Do you remember who you were while talking to Andrea Marasco on the bus? Look at yourself then and look at yourself now and tell me what these people think about your transformation into what you have become, especially the person on the other end of the phoneline?

    Chris, do you remember enjoying playing through Pokemon on your translucent purple Game Boy in math class with your level 100 Scyther? Do you remember where you used to sit in the cafeteria? Have you improved? I think you have, but you have to see that. See who you are now and be glad that people change because you're getting to be better everyday and you can't afford to let that slip anymore.

    And Jonathan, do you remember Junior High? Do you remember standing behind Jayson and Chris Newland as they had a laugh pushing me backwards making me trip over another person and somersaulting backwards to my feet? And do you remember watching Fairfield make her promises about paintball in Bragg Creek? Do you remember riding our bikes home during the lunch hour and tuning to Power 107 in the hopes that that Robyn song would be on? Do you remember playing badminton afterschool often till late at night over by the small patch of grass by the sportsplex? Do you remember the Coral Springs Youth Council dance that we helped coordinate and how much more attractive Kelsi Vescarelli became that day? Do you remember looking at the clouds at seeing some things that were truly frightening at the time? Remember biking around Coral Springs to find elastic bands for the elastic ball? Remember that one sleepover with Val, Mitch and Grand Theft Auto? Remember frisbee in the lake? Beating Metal Gear on Halloween night? I Know What You Did Last Summer at the moviedome? That was a scary movie, wasn't it? Yes, yes it was.

  53. Excuse me one moment. I can't think while this terrible music is playing....

    Ah much better. I was attempting to get through the entire Mission Impossible 2 soundtrack. Don't do that. It's terrible with the exception of maybe...five tracks? Three of which are good. One of which is okay to listen to while writing a long overdue entry. Not good thinking music at all. Not that I put a lot of thought into these entries. Most of them don't really have a subject right from the start. The trouble is, I'm usually walking around in some place where there couldn't possibly be a computer (like the Gobi desert, for example) and I have all these great ideas for entries (like ways to avoid getting lost in the Gobi) but no place to write them down. It's unfortunate really, because then when I finally do get to a computer, I've forgotten all those ideas and am forced to write about reasons why I can't think of good ideas for entries.

    I do intend to finish that complicated story section that I keep rambling about in the scrolling status bar update message within the month. Hopefully sooner. Maybe I'll get one of those motivationl HTML highs that are everso productive. Hmm..I hoped I might get more done on this entry but I think I'll just go work on other things that need attention.

  54. Everything seems really dead all of a sudden. I'm so lacking in terms of things to talk about that I seem to think starting a chatroom with two online peers will help me get ideas that are worthy of being posted on the internet. And you know what? It worked!

    So here we go as I begin to rant about unnecessary commercializations of store-bought items. The subject drawn from the chatroom is about deodorant because I guess there's this new peach deodorant available, as well as three other fantastic flavours. This drew my attention to lip balm. Have you noticed the extreme fascination with lip balm in teen culture these days? In one of my classes at school, there is a small quartet of classmates that sit directly in front of me that discuss lip balm on a regular basis. One of them owns 20 different kinds of this chapstick and they spend half the class just passing around their cylindrical vials of pasty, scented lip moisturizer! Then, get this, then while the females are fascinated by using different flavours and applying new scents at hourly intervals, the only male association with this shit is EATING IT!! Jesus Christ don't your parents feed you! Do you not have the aplomb to trouble someone for a freaking jolly rancher!? You don't eat lip balm, it's the most unwholesome violation of popular medical trends since the recreational use of rectal thermometers! So many flavours, too! Yeesh, if it does the trick who cares what it smells like. Your lips aren't supposed to smell like Strawberry Passion Fruit Guava, okay? "But I like that smell!" Yeah me too; do you also buy socks that reek of Mango Black Current Citrus? Is it really so bad to have the seemingly malodorous stench of a person anymore? Cologne and perfume are both taboo in my books, but when you start wearing lip moisturizer simply because it smells good, there's a problem.

  55. There are so many better things I could be doing with my time right now, but instead I think I'm going to write an enormous entry. You see, it's 2:02 PM in ExOp, though I left that room in refuge for the library. I have until approximately 3:22 to write an entry and you know what? I think I'm going to spend the entire eighty minutes right here. This could get very lengthy. I'll probably run out of things to talk about by 2:30 but that doesn't matter. I'm going to keep on writing and writing and writing and writing until the bell rings. Hmm...this might cause immense formatting problems. I think I'll save the source code of this page right now just to be sure. It seems that whenever I make a significantly large change to the main page, the HTML screws up and well, it's just a mess. I'd better start a good train of thought here, because if I talk about programming code the entire time, it just might be a tad wearisome.

    Screw that! I'm going to talk about it anyway. Actually, more specifically, I'm going to talk about my bizarre spontaneous fascination with learning CGI script. As my regular readers would have undoubtedly noticed, I maintain an account at and there is a small indicator at the foot of this page which displays my current mental (and sometimes physical) diathesis. Anyway, I was casually looking at the HTML code for's website and although most of it was completely foreign to me, I made enough sense out of it to decide that I might be able to manipulate this code to form a much more customizable imood of my own. Everyone's favourite DiEt cetera host Mitchell, for example, will concur that imood's services are limited, and in this case inappropriate, as one cannot select "dicohtomous" as their present state of mind. Granted, imood provides the account holder with a selection of nearly 500 moods to choose from, but as you can imagine, they don't always have what you're looking for. So my idea which I spontaneously came up with in mid-conversation with a one .antithesis was to pilfer them of their source code and manipulate it to include all the moods you could ever ask for! This became more complicated than I originally suspected. See, at first it seemed simple enough to just paste their entire code onto a new html file and go to the little section at the bottom where all the moods are listed and add in the necessary moody oversights. So I did that and added "dichotomous" and "mortal" and a few others and then viewed the file I had created. Sure enough, those moods were now available to choose from in the neat little drop-down menu they have so graciously provided. However, when you choose one of these moods, it doesn't quite work. I was foolish to think it would be that simple. It turns out that choosing a mood that imood doesn't have in their database is inefficacious action. It just brought me to a page saying, "the mood you have selected, dichotomous does not exist. Please hit the back button on your browser and try again." Damn!! What should I do now? Well, I guess I should give up.

    Being the foolish overdeterminate chowderhead that I am, I didn't give up, of course. So now I have actually taken this so far that I am learning CGI script in order to make my own mood selection site from scratch. It's insane! I had a small bit of worry about copyright laws as well, but when I looked at imood's policy, it turns out that if I get this done fast enough and get it copyrighted officially, I could sue them! Read their copyright policy and see for yourself! The only thing they can do as of yet is call me a meanie for taking their stuff. After all, that would be rude.

    Six minutes until 2:30 hits. Hm, maybe this won't turn out to be as long as I thought it would be. Though I have a lot of time yet. If I actually get onto some interesting subject I would probably be typing a lot faster. The problem with these rants that I do on this page is that once I cover all the interesting topics, there's nothing left to say. I don't come up with new things to say as quickly as I used to. In fact, the fashion rant and the thing about lip balm are just things I had to talk about because I'm running out of gas here. I often envy Mitchell for this reason. If I only had 10 entries on this page there'd be a hell of a lot more to talk about. Of course, then it would just fill up again and I'd be on entry #55 again and I'd be talking about how I wish I didn't have so many entries. It's an endless struggle.

    Maybe I should include more pictures and comment on them. This takes long enough to load already, nevermind the addition of more photographs. Spontaneous dead topic, time to stop and switch paragraphs.


    Okay, I'm back. Not that the reader noticed that I left. Although I did intend to write this entry for the duration of the entire class, I was slightly sidetracked as Andrea "the Ice Queen" Plug stumbled into the library and proceeded to converse until now, 2:46. And then there were a bunch more people from her biology class that began to be enraptured by the features of this page. Primarily Gustav. He is undoubtedly my greatest form of advertising.

    Anyway, getting back to a more interesting subject, Nightly.Net is in danger of being shut down. These stupendous message boards are hosted on a server which is paid for by the owner and occasional administrator chris. And it seems that Chris Sherman's financial straits are noxious enough to threaten the existence of the site. So now the members are all pitching in to keep it alive and what not and there's donations flying left and right. It looks like it will stick around for quite some time, actually. Fortunately, a tight enough community has been established between everyone there that all kinds of people are willing to contribute to its survival. I hadn't realized it, but to run a website of that volume, the monthly server costs are nearly $350.00 which runs up quite a bill by the end of the year.

    Wow I'm not really paying attention to the progress of this entry. I was just wondering off to the recent thread I posted at The Dark Side of the Monkey that features a prophetic screenshot. The thread is here if you're interested in seeing what I do with my spare time. Actually, if you've made it this far on this damn page, you've probably got a pretty good idea already.

  56. The weather is truly supreme today and here I am sitting in front of a computer so I can look at pictures of the wonderful scenery through the freaking National Geographic official website! Actually, right now I have very little choice in the matter. I am indoors and when I say indoors, I mean in school. Unfortunately, ExOp is not an outdoor class. Sure, the teacher will let me escape to the library if I want, but not to, say, an elementary school playground. Or an outdoor beach volleyball court on the other side of the city. I sure hope the bell rings soon. I want to get outside. Even then I won't be outside for very long. My parents went and signed me up for guitar lessons, though I seem to be doing fine on my own. For an update on my guitar progress, which I am making now for some reason, click here. I just decided to create that directory now. I'd better go do that. Uh oh, I'm not going to have time to finish it. Oh well.
  57. For the past few days, my internet access has been rather limited. In fact, it is limited to only the brief time I get online in school. Okay, it's not that brief, I guess, what with ExOp and every other boring class with a computer in it, but still. Anyway, I figure I might as well explain what happened. You see, my computer gives me problems all the times in varying degrees of severity. It crashes 2-3 times a day, which is above average so far as I can tell. Anyway, on Friday or Thursday, I'm not sure which, I experienced the Ultimate Freeze. Sure, my computer freezes all the time, but I've never seen anything like this. It's rather surprising because I have experienced every kind of crash imaginable except for this. That includes that one time where every single application stopped responding. However, THIS was truly the Ultimate Freeze. I woke up in the morning, went to the computer, and it had crashed as it does every morning. No surprise there. So I restart it, as I usually do. Then it brings me to that stupendous Windows startup screen with the pretty clouds and all that, like it usually does. This is where it freezes. That's not really unusual, as that does happen from time to time. It freezes on the Windows startup screen. Trusty ctrl+alt+del does nothing as usual, so the only option I am left with is to turn the power off. I pushed the power button.

    Turns out the power button was completely nonfunctional. My computer froze to the point where I couldn't turn it off. I pushed the button and nothing happened. That flying windows symbol just kept staring right back at me no matter how many times I pushed that button. "OFF DAMN YOU!" But no, it just stayed on. The only alternative was to unplug it. So I did. Then I plugged it back in and pushed the button to turn it on. Can you guess what didn't happen next? That's right, it didn't turn on. So I have this power button that doesn't work. Got it taken in to some computer repair place the following day and I should be getting it back tonight, but it seems weird to just not be online in the evening. Probably beneficial, but as I told the folks at the Dark Side of the Monkey, this experience has just been way too healthy for my liking. I look forward to once again mutating into a lethargic, simple webmaster with a depraved and limited social life.

  58. A couple of things to cover here. It just dawned on me that I've actually had my computer back in my possession for awhile now but never announced it on this page. It's inevitable anyway so I don't really have to say anything, but hey, it's too late for that. Anyway, back to the topics not yet at hand:

    • I was being my quiet, observant self in T/A the other day and I was stunned to see the behaviour of people. Well, stunned isn't the word, but I'll get to that momentarily. In case I haven't explained it before, T/A is the euphemistic equivalent of "homeroom." So anyway, my Teacher Advisor, being the kindhearted individual that she is was jubilantly handing out chocolate bars to all those people who didn't skip any classes that week. My reading was interrupted by someone handing me a mint Aero and I thought, well okay fine. But I can't believe the pathetic rationalizations that I heard from all the people who did skip class that week. "That absence wasn't my fault, Miss! I had a doctor's appointment." "Oh c'mon, Miss, I'm always in T/A! Can I please have one?" "But Miss I was there that class!" Jesus Christ people give it up and quit your whining!!! It's only a chocolate bar. The things people will do for a frickin' candy bar is absolutely astounding.

      Unfortunately, then my T/A felt bad for not getting enough bars for everyone who came up with a pathetic excuse because that's just the way it is. Don't you people have the teeniest bit of respect for her? She was nice enough to bring everyone chocolate bars and you have the audacity to pretend that you earned by meekly getting on her good side. It just pisses me off, that's all.

      In the same class, there was some guy fiddling around with someone else's cell phone. I honestly can't believe that these little things provide people with so much amusement. Worse yet, the only thing he was playing around with was the multitude of musical ringers. Please, shut up. I have a vehement hatred for any small device that thinks it's cute to beep to the tune of the William Tell Overture. And if I hear another digital interpretation of that Mozart song while minding my own business on the bus, I'll be tempted to kill someone. Namely the prison reject who chose to set his phone to play an arpeggio or two everytime his homosexual lover needs him to bring some more eggs home. Okay, that's pushing it. Not all euphonic cell phone-wielders are playing on the wrong side of the field.

    • In religion class later on that day, I was doing my independent study where I basically read the textbook and answer the questions in the accompanying activity booklet. Anyway, one of these exercises required me to read one of the "inspirational" stories that the textbook provides every once in awhile. Now I know they are all poorly written and have very little value of any kind, but I nearly laughed out loud at this simile: "Danny's stomach was churning like a concrete mixer." HA! That's great. It's so bad I just had to put it on this page.

    • Recently while playing the guitar, I was thinking about moisturizing hand lotion and my Grade 10 gym teacher. Now, my gym teacher obviously used a lot of this lotion because I remember being forced to Fox Trot with the instructor during the dance unit last year and her fingertips were's difficult to describe without using that whole "soft as a baby's butt" thing. But it was softer. Almost liquid. And anyway, I was thinking about that while playing the guitar, and then I imagined the damage that playing the guitar would do to her fingers. I mean, holy shit! My fingers have taken a beating, but if you gave her a steel string guitar and told her to play constantly for three hours, yeesh! It's like a new kind of leprosy. Her fingers would be so tender that the thin strings would probably cut right to the bone on the first chord.

    So that's my rant for the day. Time for...looking at the clock.

  59. I'm beginning to wonder if I would still be an atheist if such a thing was unheard of. If there were no other atheists in the world, would I still maintain a disbelief in God? I think so. I had no associations with religion at all before I even knew what atheism was. This came to mind while halfheartedly listening to the weekly prayer in the morning announcments today. I can't believe how narrow these people are. T/A is boring as it is; the absolute thrill is only further damaged by these weekly prayers. As far as I know, maybe 2% of the school population pays attention to them. 50% of which are staff and 35% of that is the guy who has to read it. So anyway, as my mind scattered to other topics in T/A this morning (I'm in computer class, by the way) I overheard a comment that quickly caused me to digress back to the preceding entry about chocolate bars. The minute that my T/A walked in the door with a bag of vegetables, a student, upon sight of the bag, said, "Miss, I was here in T/A all week, do I get a chocolate bar?" Ay me! The week hasn't even started yet and they're badgering her for candy as though she "owes them" from last week. Which is what it came down to. She explained that the bag contained vegetables for the Foods Studies course and that she owes him a bar for last week's absent-free adventure in school. It's very sad to see her submit to something like that.

    I had this other thought lingering in the back of my mind that I really wanted to put into an entry on my way to this class but I think I've forgotten it. I hate it when that happens. I've made it a mission to carry a small piece of paper and a pen with me for when I get these ideas. Hopefully the quality of the entries will substantiate. Entry #58 is a product of one of those sheets of paper, in fact. That's the biggest problem. I get good ideas for entries all the time, but I don't have a computer just sitting in my back pocket during the day. Hopefully the paper will alleviate that problem. The other option, to stay "technologically hip," would be to purchase another of those delightful electronic organizers and use the memo function to list my ideas. I'll consider that. I may or may not still have one sitting in my house somewhere. But the spacebar fell out and it really slows down typing speed when you have to dig into the plastic crevace and run your finger along the small metal flat.

    This site has officially crashed more than one computer worldwide. It's getting too long, meaning that I have to do the inevitable and create a second index page of entries. Yuck, I don't like that at all. Gotta move some time.

  60. Just now, just tonight I made a huge spontaneous addition to the Et cetera Network. The idea had been boiling in the back of my mind for awhile now. R.C Allen hosting QuiEt cetera; what a concept. And guess what? We did it! Just today. It took quite some time, as it is now 2:30 am and there's school tomorrow. Oh well, minor sacrifice I suppose. I'm also working on a network page. I'm not sure if I've mentioned that. But it would be the main page of the Et cetera Network (duh!) where they are all linked from. Sounds like a good idea but I'm having a hell of a time accomadating for people who have crappy resolution settings. Grr.

    I probably won't make this entry too long simply because I have very little to talk about other than the addition of QuiEt cetera. For those of you who don't know our conglomerate's new webmaster, R.C Allen is an individual from the Nightly.Net message boards with whom I have associated with for probably close to a year and a half now. He was the second candidate behind Timothy La Rocque for DiEt cetera until I decided that Mitchell was the best choice for that. Now that I've gone and initiated another person into this network, I feel considerably more powerful, as though I have some degree of control over the happenings of these two sites which I hold in my fingertips. :-) Actually, I myself manage two sites entirely, this and the message boards. However, I hold enough influence over the other two sites to prevent a rebellion I think. What am I talking about? I'm really getting tired here.

    So naturally, I'm going to start a third paragraph. You know what? I'm sixty entries into this page an not once, NOT EVEN ONCE, have I quoted Yoda. What better time than now?

    "Look at me! Judge me by my size do you!?"

    Oh, I am so going to bed right now...

    But first, even though I didn't intend to do this, I will make the announcement that this is in fact the last entry on this, the main index page where I have spent a great many months spilling my ramblings. You'll find in the entries links list at the top of the page there is now a link to a second index that will cover entries 61 through to 120, assuming I get that far. I've rather enjoyed the massive length of this page, but it's time to move on.

    Bye everybody!! I'll miss you all!! *walks across the street*

    I am presently Mooderoo! according to the services of

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