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The Deadly 'Punk Kiss'
April 9, 2002
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Wow. So stuff and things, and junk even, and lookit this, the 50th comik of dis faire strippen is approaching at rapid, nay, *light* speed, and will be upon us before you can say Jack Robinson. Which, in like, *technical* terms, is roughly next week. So try not to bite your fingernails down to the painful part while waiting, that just wouldn't be cool. Plus it looks REALLY gross.
Dammit, I'd really love readership in this beloved little cyber-rag I've got here to grow - not for the sake of more faces peering in disgust at this pathetic drivel of mine but a chance to do what those of Penny Arcade do regularly - which is to say, give away lots of free FUN shit and stuff like that. Right now I know I'd likely end up giving it to someone I know: not because I'm a favoritist, but only because my readership is so SMALL that it seems I *know* everyone out there. If I'm mistaken, and have never talked to you before in my life or seen what you even LOOK like, drop me a line and tell me how wrong I am, and in the meantime I'll just keep quietly assuming that nobody loves me. ::sigh::
So contests, yeah. Love those things. Because I'd be offering to give something away that was COOL in exchange for something random and COOL from you, likely something easy to cobble together, and then you'd *get* the aforementioned COOL thing. Like, I could very well offer to give away a brand new T-shirt, or even my dear little not-available-any-more W00t Bear (I currently call him "W00tie." I know, I'm not creative. Aren't I just suck), for something like your best rendition of a hymn that you've altered to involve cheese. But see, I CAN'T do that, not only because of my previous reasoning, but because, as from the last rant, my dear friend Helen seems to have shown us all that *she* is the lyrical queen when it comes to hymns involving cheese, so yeah. If you wish to challenge her crown, whoopee-yay send me your submission, but in the meantime I'm still gonna sit here and sigh. ::sigh:: Yeah.
All right, so I hate Daylight Savings Time, right? Have I told you this before? Because I *know* I've told everyone else. I hate it, it's stupid, and it sucks. I don't want to know any good reasons for why it exists, all I know is I lost an hour on Sunday and goddammit, I want it BACK. Oh, sure, somewhere in there I *gain* an hour, but the weird thing about an hour is it isn't so much to gain one, but it's a gigantic pain in the ASS to LOSE one. It's early versus late, and when the choice comes down to it the former is ALWAYS the best option. But I just want to vent about it, be a bitch here and say damn you, Daylight Savings Time: you are worthless, I don't like you, and you suck. Take that and smoke it. Bleah.
Unless my ocular orbs deceive me, this Saturday is the beloved Mac Con, when all the Macalester Gamers take over the Olin-Rice building here on campus and partake of all kinds of gaming goodness, consoles and roleplaying and even a bootyload of precious, tasty anime. I've got an essay due on Monday, but by Bob, I'm finishing that sucker PLENTY early so I can get me a piece of this crazy action. Hoo boy. Yippee, happy, and all sorts of crazy funness. If you're in the Minneapolis / St. Paul area on Saturday and want a share of this action too, drop me a line and be gratified with a reply and directions, or summat. Either way it's gonna be nifty and great, and I eagerly await its outcome. Booyah.
Oy. I gotta get out of here, but take care, kick it old school, keep it real. You know, whatever floats your boat. See you in a few.
None other,
Annie "Blue" VM
This is Bach and it rocks
It's a rock-block of Bach
That we learned in the school
Called the school of hard knocks
- Tenacious D
"Rock
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