The Defeat of the Grammar King

Well, it was a close battle, but the actual count (by my calculations) ended in a Sugue/Easterly tie. Caitlin made a valiant effort, and I expect her to be a fierce competitor should the Sugue ever regain his title. However, because of the close nature of the game, I decided to give Derek the choice of colors this week. He made two posts to the story, twice as many as everyone else, and I think it's better this way. He's a relatively neutral party outside of the top-three-feud and it'll be interesting to see what he does. I'll put up some interim colors until he posts what he wants (just google for hexadecimal colors or designate someone else as your choice; don't forget to find comment box colors too). For all you noble souls who tried so very hard to reign in the title, I hope you'll keep it up and take it back next week!

On another note, the riddle should be up sometime tomorrow, I've just been relatively busy today. Farewell until next time.

A Trial by Fire....But with Ice

I haven't made a general entry in some time, so I figured I'd give you a doozy today. Much of it should be real, but I'll probably hyperbolate some parts,which you should be able to pick out, and I may add some crazy ninja grannies on uranium powered scooters for good measure. Most of it is trivial, meaningless drivel that you're sure to be uninterested in, and none of it really bothered me all that much anyway, but I thought I'd plop it up here just to make up for lost time. I'm warning you, read at your own peril. This is long, often tedious, and possibly contagious. Proceed at your own risk.

Sometimes there are just days when you wonder why you even bothered getting up. I know this, you know this, that creepy monkey in the mirror behind me knows this. But I got up anyway. I suppose it all started three days ago (cue Wayne's World-esque flashback sequence with sparkly lights and flying goafers)....it was finals time and as usual I decided that all my hard work throughout the semster would pay of by me annihilating my relatively high A's in Accounting and Chemistry by not studying for the finals. The English final was a tad tricky, and my essay veered around like a drunk man trying to swat that annoying pink elephant who won't stop telling him to "Eat At Joe's." The Accounting final rivaled the Band final in easyness and repeating, making it a rather boring experience. And, of course, I enjoyed the Pre-Cal final. I may not be the best at Math, but I do enjoy a good Math test. But the things I do not enjoy are Chemistry finals. You'd think I would have learned from last year, but NNOOOO. I assumed I knew things I didn't (kinda like the Bush admini...er.. nevermind). So once again the blasted test is going to be hanging over me all break. Not literally, because I'd rip it off it's disembodied peg, tear it into pieces, toss it in the fire, take the fire outside, throw it in the trash, take the burning trash can to the Post Office, attach a note to it that reads "Throw this at someone you dislike slightly", mail it to Ralph Nader, yada yada. Needless to say, it wasn't an auspicious start. Well, I guess I said it even if it was needless. Hhmmm. Aaannnyyway...

So I start looking forward to that night where the Combined class was planning on meeting up for food, movies, and lots and lots of surly-teenager action (because there's nothing like a bunch of relatively intelligent people planning on watching a movie based on a highly acclaimed literary work to strike fear into the hearts of the innocent everywhere). So I get to the Olive Garden with a helpful assist from Rachel (I get lost too easily to bother attempting to go anywhere without a local familiar with the terrain as my guide, which, believe you me, is not so easy to find in the middle of Greenland on goat-back, but that's another story). Then we start waiting. And oh how we waited. What was supposed to be a few minutes quickly became twenty. Soon everyone became suspicious of everyone else. We checked to see if our handy can openers were stashed within our pockets, in case things got ugly, and glared at each other. We tried to break the tension by singing Kookabura (which is a wonderful round that should be sung much more often than it is now), but to no avail. The hunger pangs were obvious. Soon, we began to eye the small children and sick elderly people around us as possible prey. Rachel and Sarah attempted to try intimidation on some of the people who had decided to pitch a tent and stay the night, but apparently you aren't allowed to randomly wave a machine gun around and yell "Alright youse punks, get out before I gives ya an incentive!" They're Italian, I thought they'd understand. But no. So we're finally seated, albeit a bit behind schedule. The kind people at Olive Garden decided to try to compensate our wasted time with a free appetizer. I thought it was rather redundant, what with the free bread sticks and salad, but it was free after all... Anyway, I ordered my normal child's pizza which made me a tad embarassed, but is it so wrong to know your limits?...Oh...It is? WHY WON'T YOU PEOPLE TELL ME THESE THINGS?!?! Anyway, we finally leave and make it over to Sara's for some Catch-22. Now, Catch-22 may be the best book I've ever read, so I have high standards. But a blind monkey would be able to understand that it butchered the entire thing. Ironically, it did make me appreciate the novel all the more, but still; what was the point? Ah well, who knows what the point of anything is anymore? So after the movie, I headed home where my father subsequently got mad at me for not calling him even though I said I'd be home at 11. Eh, whatever takes attention away from the blood stains and the burnt, pig-like odor in the trunk.

So that was the first two days. Then yesterday came. It started off innocently enough. I was ripped from my oh so peaceful slumber by the knowledge that I had to go to the dermatologists. It wasn't something nifty like a foot that inverted upon itself, thus letting you walk sideways, or a thumb having a huge mole or something that talked to you and told you to kill everyone. Half of my body hadn't even changed aquarmarine or neon or orange or anything. I was just there for whatever skin blotches the big Artist o' Life decided to toss upon my face. So I get some pills or something and return home where I anxiously await the Divine Pleasure of driving my sister wherever her tiny, shriveled, cold heart desires. So after hours of tense waiting, I drop her off at Martha's, get something to eat, and start to head home. But Lo, what on yonder gas-meter breaks? It is the Empty, and Pilot is the Sun! In other words, I almost risked running out of gas, but cautious devil that I am, I stopped at a nearby pilot and got some in the pouring snow. I was obviously disoriented, what with the cold and the strange gas aparatus (3 types of gas from pump, what?!?), thus as I drove onto the bustling interstate my fuel-cap did not join me. I'd assume it's somewhere along Northshore now where it will begin a magical Christmas adventure that will end with it bursting into flames somewhere in Colorado during the 2078 Olympics. Don't ask.

But this all led up to Martha's big shin-dig of a box social. Now, for all my gloomy, boring ways, I actually don't mind going places and doing things. It's pointlessness that annoys me. So while I don't like Christmas nor do I like large, loud crowds (unless I'm in control of their every whim), it wasn't that bad. Of course it sort of divided into cliches, which I don't really like, but it was expected. I'm normally a drifter when that happens, but last night (due to my contacts which I'll get to in a bit) I just sat in a corner and played games. Once again I prompted us to sing Kookabura, and it worked with some success. It also encouraged me to make some sort of board/spades club of some sort at school that would meet on a regular basis. Then I realized I'm an unmotivated bum who never does anything he doesn't feel obligated for some reason to do, so I largely dropped the idea.

ANYWAY, (stupid Dylan, always getting sidetracked, he does this a lot, like this one time that he was talking and he kep...there I go again). AHEM. As I was saying, ANYWAY when I left was when the real fun began. I walked onto the driveway of Martha's and thought "Wow, this is kind of slick, maybe the roads will be this way too. Nah, you'll be fine; remember snow days? Ice and Snow are your friends!" So I sallied forth into the dark unknown. Oh how my once long-time companion and ally turned traitor! We (meaning Kelly and I, since I was doing my good deed for the day of transporting someone I wasn't family-like obligated to chauffeur) got to Kingston Pike and tackled the driving test of my life! Apparently, ice is rather slippery and cars can lose this thing called "traction." In retrospect, all of my hardships could have been avoided if I'd remember to chant my prayer "Friction Don't Fail Me Now!!", but alas I did not. So I went up the hill and got stopped. Or rather, the car in front of me stopped and I was forced to as well. After some random cursing and quick use of the rocket launcher I keep in my glove department, I was able to advance past that obstacle. Going down the hill, I swerved out of control, hit a passer-by, got arrested, and was executed the next day for not wearing a seat-belt. Ok, so I made it down the hill with only a bit of swerving, but it gets better! I arrive in West Hills with Kelly as my guide (see, I really do need a guide to tell me where to go in the town I've lived in for all 17 of my oh so long years) and we ever so slowly advance through the neighborhood. Now, on the way to the Olive Garden, I made an unfortunate comment about stop signs not applying to Rachel's superb driving skills. Well, I broke more laws last night than I care to think about, and needless to say, acted as if the Red Beacons of my Sure Demise were not there. So I get through West Hills, and Middlebrook is within my sight. Oh Joy! I am almost to safety! What's this?!! Why is that car stopped on this incline?!?! Why isn't it moving?!!?!?!?! Oh.....No.... So I too become trapped on a slight incline. My manual car soon becomes a bane to me once again. The other car moves onto middlebrook while I desperately fight the urge to kill the next pink fairy that tells me driving is a fun experience that everyone should enjoy. So after killing the car, sliding backwards a few times, and taking out my handy-dandy rocket launcher should the need arise, I get onto Middlebrook. Hooray! I'm on Middl-BAM! I hit the curb. But we're ok! I straighten up, aim for Bearden Middl-BAM! Another Curb. Well, this is fun. Middlebrook becomes blocked with cars, a wreck or something, so we pull into the BMS parking lot (strangely my first time there) and I wisely park. My grandfather lives not 15minutes away, so I'm fine. However, Kelly is another story (yes, I didn't kill her. The voices advised it, to get rid of witnesses, but I was still mad at them for suggesting I wear my contacts, so I didn't). So she calls her mother who heads over to pick us up. We gradually grow impatient and form ranks to march to the gas station and demand they treat us like the surly teenagers we clearly are (I mean really, how is a thin, pasty faced white kid who looks rather dazed and confused NOT the scariest thing you've ever seen?). We get to one gas station. Then two. By this time, the body count on my hands has just grown too high. I mean, even I have a random homicidal limit (we'd been brutally slaying every passer by we saw with frozen fish I just happened to have over from my underwater treasure hunt, but that's another story). So anyway, I decide to give up, so we head to my grandfather's home. On the way there we witnessed a peculiar sight. An SUV was stuck in the ditch on the side of the road at a 45 degree angle(at least). There appeared to be minimal damage, but you just don't see that sort of thing every day. Nevertheless, we ignore the bodies strewn throughout the countryside and all thier pleas for help or at least an end to their misery and arrive at my grandfathers. Somewhere on this crazy ride, Kelly's mother does not end up going home, so Kelly stays at my grandfathers as well. I sleep on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable, despite the man who kept hovering outside my window with a green gleam in his eyes and a silent but deadly icepick clutched in his bitter, cybertronic fingers.

The next morning I awake to an angry mob who demands my head. I don't know where they keep finding my address. So I do the whole "Oh no, please forgive me" routine as I send the signal for the Rapid Wombats to be airdropped on top of them. And I had to help some men working on the airducts with a powercord. I then prepared to put in my contacts (which I thought I'd placed in a ziploc baggy overnight) when I realized I had, once again, lost my right, expensive, stigmatismastic contact. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, it was gone. So after a failed attempt or forty and me almost losing the other as well, I give up and go without them. Thus, I have no corrective eyewear, but what do I care, I've got nothing to lose (Only high insurance payments to gain!). Somehow, I get Kelly home (despite the ice, snow, polar bears with lazer vision, and Eskimos with personal vendettas (Don't EVER ask if it's "Cold in here, or is it just your HEART!?")). I wait for the rest of the blasted stuff to thaw and then gratefully head home. That's when the crazy ninja grannies on uranium powered scooters arrived. I raced down middlebrook, but they were too crafty. They were gaining, I had little time, then it hit me. Shoneys. So I drive past the Shoney's on Western Avenue and they flock to it like flies to...um...dead stuff. Then I decide to go for lunch. What did I get? It had to be a Frosty.

And that's basically where I am now. I've spent an hour and 15minutes already writing this, even though it's really covered nothing of that much interest. Less is written about wars, violence, congress, carebears, why Huggies is the right diaper for you, etc. I didn't even write my rant about how contacts make me get anxious, annoyed, confused, dazed, and crazy. That'll have to come some other time. But for now, I leave you with this "Book" of my past few days. Some of you may have thought it couldn't be done. But I wrote the longest ramble this site has seen and may ever see again! So with that, I bid you Farewell. If you read through the whole thing then you must really have had some time on your hands. I'm so....proud. Until next time.

A Continuance of the Beginning

Inco Erent surveyed the carnage after the FBI had left. Dishes strewn everywhere, furniture broken, pictures slightly asunder, fishbowls rippling a bit. It was utter devastation. He only had himself to blame, though. He had known that his next door neighbor Cheryl's Lawn Gnome was special, he just hadn't realized how very special it was! The past 48hours were a blur, but he distinctly remembered a pair of piercing eyes staring at him through a dark fog of grey smoke. That was all he could recall of the past two days, but he knew something important must have happened.

How could such an innocent prank have gone so horribly wrong?!? He had to find what out had happened to him. Being an unemployed "Waste Disposal Management Expert", he had plenty of time, so he called his pet squirrel, Noy, grabbed his only money, $5.62, hopped in his Chevy, and set off to the first place he could think of to start his search: Barry's Blastinatin Bar.

((Well, there's your first prompt. Plenty of places you can go with it, and I don't care what direction you take. Read the next entry in its long, blathering entirety for an explanation of the rules before posting a response. Just try to stay somewhat within the confines of the intro, but be creative and have fun!))

The Slaying of The Sugue

Well, as it may be obvious to many of you (who can read through David's reign of Ter-olor(you do the math)), a post contest has begun the likes of which my blog has never seen! Brave new factions vie for the chance to change the colors into something prettifully magniferrific instead of The Grammar Kings Blending Blog Blotches of Blehdom! So I present to you, brave challengers, an arena to test your creative capacity and a chance for yet another dictatorial force to surface, one of grandeur, benevolence, magnificence, rhyming, and undead radioactive mongeese of DOOM. In other words, ME!!! So here's the plan. In Band, I started circulating a story that people would add one line to as it went along, for amusement purposes only. Well, I shall continue that tradition today!

Yes, you heard/read/telepathized right, I'm going to give you an introductory sequence and all your jobs are to continue it (I'll add in some extra tidbits along the way too, assuming any of you take it up). The rules are as follows:

1. Every post to the story must be 3-10 sentences with least 3words sentence (for example, no "Oh. No." 's).
2. You'll receive one point per post (as you would for any comment anywhere else)
3. When I see an entry I like, I'll give you extra points for it (And it'll be whichever comment(s) I want to choose, kind of in an evil dictator way).
4. All comments about previous entries or other people's entries not in context of the story need to have double parenthese's around them ((Like this)). These will count toward your final comments total of the week and you can make them at any point in the story.
5. You can only make one entry at a time (someone else has to add an entry before you can add another). You can make an entry after a ((comment)) if you wish. The "no three posts in a row period" rule still applies here as it does everywhere else.
6. If two people post an addition at the same time (for instance, if they're writing it at the same time and post it at the same time through some coincidence of time and space that Fate loves to torment me with), the next person should choose which one they're going to follow ((note)) it, and continue. The unchosen entry will still get credit for the post, but it won't be added on to.
7. You are allowed to add at most 2 individual characters to the story per post, 3 total.
8. Use your best judgement when adding on to the story. You can have dramatic twists or kill main characters or whatever, but do it tactfully. Add some randomness, but keep it cohesive. Add in distant events as a foreshadowing sequence of things to come. Create epic struggles between good and evil. But don't just summon an asteroid, kill off everything, and then say "Meanwhile, on pretty, fluffy, happy, evil world." Go with what other people write, don't arbitrarily wrest control of the story every single time you post. Add on the story, don't divide it into fragments. (Although you do have my full permission to abuse someone else’s character out of spite or revenge, just keep it tactful. Kapish?)
9. Anything else I say goes (I may add or subtract from the rules, I can do whatever I want, and I don't have to follow a thing!).

Depending on whether I'm feeling generous, I may let the previous week's winner choose which story additions get more points, if they will forfeit their right to add on to the story and not win the next week (These continued stories will be a weekly or so thing, if interest is there). I know this is a lot of rules and what not, but you're all smart people I have faith you'll figure it out. Except for David, but he's been stabbed with sporks one too many times. So have at it (For simplicity the story will be on a separate post, please post additions to that. Leave comments on what you think of the idea in general and any suggestions on this section.)

*pantpantpant* That's about all, for now. Let me know what you think.

An Overwhelming Onslaught of Absolutely Nothing

Well, finals are finally here. I suppose I should be studying this very moment, but if I don't make decent grades so I can brutally abuse them this time of year, why make them in the first place? (Ok, so that doesn't make a lot of sense. Neither does warm ice cream. You figure it out.) I may actually put a bit of effort into a few of them, just to make it interesting, but I want the test taking experience to be at least a bit exciting (I'm talking to you Accounting Final).

However, a more pressing concern arises as I sit here in my usual spot with nothing better than to blather on and on and on about how I'm blathering on and on and on about how I'm...well... you know the rest. I still need something to do that doesn't involve me and an actively sedentary lifestyle. So if anyone wants to go found a cult, plan an insurrection, go on a harrowing journey of life, death, and the American Cheese, or ,of course, kick a puppy, let me know. I'll be glad to consider it, and at the very least you'll get a sincere good luck followed by a sarcastic comment or two.

One thing I would really like to avoid is the giving and receiving of gifts. It's just so...aggravating. Not the aggravating of a drip-drip-dripping sink while you lie completely flat on a long, cold table as a pair of slightly mad orangutan prepare to remove your eyelids and short term memory in an admirable, but futile attempt to salvage any trace of sanity you may have after going through hours and hours of horrible, brain-squashing boredom at the hands of a vacation you ambivalently want and despise at the same time. (Try to say that three times fast in one breath...) Anyway, gift-giving and receiving is a custom I'm not all that fond of. Perhaps if someone specifically requested something that it was within my oh so limited power to easily aquire, I might go through the effort. Otherwise, the uncertainty and relatively good chance at failure deter me from trying. Ah well, it could be worse.

As you may have noticed, none of this is really all that entertaining and/or mindblowing. You see, as long as I can justify remaining online, I can put off trying to cram every single random fact of a subject I will not ever use again into my already fragmented and limited mind. But I'll spare you anymore of this, for I am a kind and benevolent rambler who knows when it is good to consider thinking about attempting to try to start stopping. I'm not evil, just...well...ok, so I am kind of evil. But evil in a good, fuzzy, bristly, "AH AH GET IT OFF, IT BURNS LIKE THE COLDEST ICE OF AN ACTIVE VOLCANO IN THE MIDDLE OF ANTARCTICA" kind of way. So until next time, Pleasant Dreams and Merry Studying.

Riddle #8

Enemy to faith and reason,
Bane to students of any season,
This is something we oft do fear,
Yet throughout our lives it's always near.

Without this We can’t progress,
But it still causes much distress;
If it’s too strong you won’t proceed
But for a great mind, it’s what you’ll need.

It irritates authority to no end,
To swift action it is no friend.
With your answer, this may be in tow;
You could be sure, but you just don’t know!

Well, there you have it. I'm not concerned whether it's too easy or not, you'll like getting it right regardless. Sorry for the delay, I was busy all yesterday and it's against my bum-like code to work ahead. Complaints can be directed to me through IM where I will forward them to "Loseyapointsnow", our Customer Service Representative.

As for updated scores, here they are Derek 12, The Sugue 10, Elizabeth G. 8, Kelly 8, Caitlin 8, Ellen 8, Elizabeth E. 6, Martha 6, Melissa 4, Amy 3, Rachel 3. (I've been having trouble keeping up with all the points you people toss at my face, so if you feel there's a discrepancy let me know).

Not much else to say at the moment, so I'll leave you with a much belated "Quote of the Week"

Derek: conspiracies: life's most flavorful seasoning

(Once again, The Plague of Color, or, as I refer to him, "The Sugue", has squeaked out enough incorrectly spelled responses to earn the right to color the blog again (if he chooses to change it). If you don't like the colors, post more! If you like the colors, good for you! Maybe they'll bring some pastel colored joy into your normally brownish grey life. Until next time).

That's Not Rain, It's Fluffy Snow!

Well, such is a typical "winter" in the K-town hood. Which, strangely, is fortunate for me. You see, now that I'm an old fuddy-duddy, I don't want out of school. Do Adjust Your Set, this is not a Test. That's right, other than Chemistry at the end of the day and usually History, I don't want to be out of school. I feel like such a traitor to the student mentality. You see, for the past few years (since Christmas of seventh grade), I've been addicted to online computer games. However, in August I decided I'd quit. Cold turkey, if you will. Well, now it seems as if I have nothing to do. With all my time not being devoted to the game, I still find myself online hoping someone will deem me worthy enough to talk to.

It's rather strange, because not wanting to be out of school really speeds it along. So, I've developed some ideas for getting me to actually do something. I'll probably bump some quote off my profile and include a topic to ask me about, no matter how strange, and see what happens (something like "What do you think about the Spanish Civil War? or "Are poisonous frogs really that good a side dish for a wedding dinner?). Perhaps someone will IM me, I'll say "hooah" and that'll be it. Perhaps we'll delve deep into the human pysche and discover the secret to pudding. Or we may just come up with some great plans for world domination. Either way, it'll be better than nothing! I think...

Not only that, but come next summer I'm going to start a routine. It'll probably involve me going to walk somewhere, walking around awhile, stopping to play a game of some sort somewhere (inside, outside, something), me reading a book, me trying to do something else of some interest, and me going to sleep. Now, the key for this to work is for others to know. You see, I'd start each day with a set plan. Other people would know where to find me, every day, and if they felt like it they could come along for the ride. It'd be like a mini-adventure every day, while everything was entirely routine. Ain't irony great? It'd be a walk in the park too! Literally!

Well, that's about all for today. The Daily Show, often the highlight of my night, is about to commence so I must bid you all Farewell. Until next time....

Getting Down in the Boondocks

Well, I hope you weren't too concerned after my ramble hiatus the past few days. I know you people have more than your fair share of insanity, so I think you'll survive. Anyway, I've got one for you today. I was thinking of ways to accessorize in the event of a hostile takeover. While a T-shirt and pair of jeans works everyday otherwise, it is often wise to have a distiguishable "style" of world dominating apparel. Foremost among such clothing is, of course, the cape. Now, the cape is an often overlooked item that is really quite necessary for any sort of Superhero/villain. Sure, you can do without it, but it's not everyday you get to wear a cape! Well, it would be if you had superpowers, but anyway...

So my idea for a nifty Super Villain would be "Society Man." For those who don't know, society is one of many forces that I have to contend with everyday (others being Vishnu, the word "should", apathy, insurmontable love, a manual car, trying to focus in chemistry, the continuing war of my mind vs. my heart, you get the point). But society holds a particular spot in my ever growing lists of things to give a severe fingerwagging too. Anyway, as "Society Man" I would dress in solid black, except for a white cape, or solid white except for a black cape. It would be satirical in that society sees too many things in black and white and won't change, but it would also look snazzy. At least I think it would. But I have no fashion sense or any sense for that matter, so...um...tough grahm crackers!

Once properly outfitted, I could woosh around telling people how wrong they are but then fly away without presenting any reason why at all. It'd be quite amusing. Did I mention I'd get to wear a cape too? There are plenty of other things Society Man could do, if you think of any post em. If you don't, then think of what superhero/villain you'd like to be and your kickin' threads(you can always change, it's not permanent...).

Well, that's about it for the day. You have something to do. I always have something to do. So with my mission accomplished, I'll run off into the sunset shouting "Watch TV! Books are for squares! Taxes are Bad! Escape from Life! AWAY!!!"

Riddle #7

It’s necessary for sanity, but it takes up too much time,
Stealing away so much of life just ought to be a crime!
We want it when we can’t have it, yet we delay it when we can,
We can rarely find enough, it just won’t fit our plan.

It’s a sanctuary from strife, yet it can create so much more,
In fact every time you enter it, you don’t know what’s in store.
Once it’s taken hold you won’t want it to end,
But obligation, life, and time will not let you extend.

We all need some eventually, you just can't do without;
If you don't get enough you're often prone to pout.
So go get some right now, since you've nothing else to do;
Don't worry, you can go, I'll be waiting here for you.

Well, there you are. Not hard, but none of em are all that difficult so I suppose I should stop saying it every single time(of course, I write em and I know the answers from the beginning!) Anywho, due to circumstances beyond my control (website errors, little computer commandeering sisters, monkeys with knives that feel surprisingly like butter(really really hot, low fat butter)), I was unable to post the riddle yesterday. I'm sure most of you are heartbroken and almost could not go on the next day, but take heart that there are archives and walls you can pound your heads into while you read them.

At any rate, most of you didn't answer last week's riddle, but two of you got it right. The updated scores are: Derek 10, The Sugue 8, Elizabeth G. 6, Caitlin 6, Ellen 6, Elizabeth E. 6, Martha 6, Amy 3, Melissa 3, Rachel 3.

That's about all for now. I've got some clones to initiate and some explosions to clean/cover up. Until next time.

(Well, by my most likely flawed calculations, The Sugue won the posting contest, so he gets to choose the color theme. I count the post counts from sunday-saturday, not the day I post the riddles, just fyi. Since you three people are probably the only ones to read something other than riddles, I give you all salutes. You really keep the posts counts hoppin! Except the Sugue, because no one likes the Grammar Police.)

I'm as Light as a Balloon and Twice as Fluffy

Ok, so that doesn't really make much sense. But today I decided that self-constraint and reason could go sit in time-out awhile and think about what they've done. The Dunce Hat is optional. But anyway, yes, I decided that using an "inside voice" and caring whether everyone around me disapproved Random Acts of Lunacy was not in the cards. There's just something about a Friday and the fact that I no longer had any projects looming ominously over my head that made me want to throw caution to the wind. Of course, it didn't help my efforts that I threw it directly into the wind and it subsequently flew back and smacked me in my face. Still, the desired effect was accomplished.

I also developed a new idea for when I have complete control of reality. Well, it's more of a continuation of an old one, but this time added on. I still think that it would be quite an interesting superpower to make everything in your near vicinity take the form of a dramatic musical. People would constantly sing instead of speaking and all sorts of things like triumphant marches, daring sword fights, elephant stampedes, massive overthrows of the reigning Overlord, you get the drift. So today I thought it would be nice to just form a line or procession of people and march through the halls on Fridays singing in choreographed movement. It'd be great if it started out with just a few and gained momentum until we reached the parking lot and ended with a huge dramatic note. Of course, the fire code breakage alone would be disturbing, but I can dream can't I? Oh. I can't? Well...umm...fine. I guess I'll......make a mad getaway in that idle winnebago(criticize spelling if you dare) and ride off on into the sunset! Away!

So Dylan hopped in that magical winnebago and travelled all over the country. Eventually he developed a whole highway procession and an army formed. He then set his sights on taking over all of Nebraska, hoping that with the fall of the heartland the rest would follow. Unfortunately, he had a flat on the way there, stopped in Kansas, and the wild chickenhawks that roam that barren land lit his gas tank on fire, creating a gigantic explosion and spreading a holocaust of flame across the countryside. By the time it was put out, Dylan had only one eyebrow left, and this loss left him bitter and inconsolable for the rest of his days. The End.

Well, I figured I had to throw some random nonsense at you. It's been awhile. Ok, so maybe not. Have a good weekend anyway.

You've Made Your Bed Now Lay In It!

Well, as instructed by the top poster last week, I've changed the colors to fit her criteria. If you don't like them, post more and maybe you'll get to change them. If you do like them I hope this tiny surge of joy sends you on a rocket to eternal bliss and happiness.

Well, today I tried a new strategy to get me motivated. Typically I'll go through school in a somewhat lively mood and then I'll be paralyzed by apathy and despair when I arrive home. So today I thought I may as well see if the opposite works. It wasn't all that enjoyable, being dreary and just dripping despair all day, but what goes down should hopefully come up, so I'll just have to see how the emotional rollercoaster goes.

Other than that almost masochistic experiment, I really didn't do much of anything of any note today. I did write a "Song of Myself" and found that whenever I try to write any poetry at all it has to include some rhyme or I just can't do it. I tried, but my mind kept trying to put rhymes in everywhere. At least I didn't get too wrapped up in it. I'll start trying to rhyme my thoughts if I try to rhyme too much, and believe you me, it ain't pretty. I can almost talk in rhyme, but since I can't warp time to go back and fix the rhythm mistakes I've already spoken it's largely a failure.

Speaking of failures, you may have noticed that I mentioned a game involving world domination and insignificant objects yesterday. So, as part of another semi-contest I've decided to force you people not to do, I'd like to see what you can do with a piece of copper wire, three buffalo, and 500 Canadian quarters. You don't have to use all of that stuff, but you must use at least one. As for other rulers, there really aren't any. I'll give a point for the best and a point for the funniest (assuming any of you do it, of course). Post them in the comments if ya don't mind.

Well, I've got poetry to find, history to read, and time to brutally murder with a rusty spatula, so until next time.

Digging My Grave with an Ice Cream Sample Spoon

Well, after further examination I've almost decided my answer for the riddle won't fit. I don't know, you'll be mad at me anyway (and some of you will almost certainly throw heavy objects in temper tantrums of colossal proportions). I figure you probably have nothing to worry about because the chances of something getting the correct answer are slim. If someone does get it "right" they'll get four points, but I'll burn that bridge when I come to it.

As for other news, there isn't much. I've devised a wonderful new mind game that I think most of you will find mildly entertaining. Take any object, however boring and mundane, and devise a diabolical scheme to use it in a world domination plot. You can try to think of things and peoples so obscure it's next to impossible to develop a way. It's like McGuiver and Napoleon mixed into a vat of acid with guinea pigs wearing maroon whigs. It should at least provide fodder for 5minutes of wasting time or getting any dull social event entertaining and/or over!

So that's about all for now. I would give you more of my oh so fragmented musings, but really, don't we all have something better to do? Well, I don't really, but I'm going to play the optimist and hope that you have kittens to save and elephants to protect. Until next time.

Riddle #6

It may be here, it may be there,
It could be round, it could be square,
It could be black, it could be white;
Do you have it? You just might.

It could be dead, maybe alive,
It could suffer, or it could thrive,
It could be silent or make a sound,
It could be nowhere or all around.

It may be common, it could be rare,
It might have feelings, it may not care,
It could be large, it could be small,
It might not exist at all!

What could it be, so mysterious and vague? Do you know the answer, or shall questions plague? Think outside of the box, if you will; perhaps you won't require help still.

Alright, well that's this week's riddle (the last paragraph isn't written in with the rest of the poem since it won't count in the scoring). Just remember to take chances and not over think it. I don't know if this will be easy or if it will confound you horribly, I'll just have to wait and see. If you're really stuck you're probably not going to like the correct answer, so I guess I'll just hope everyone gets it right (If not, I'm going to have to listen to a lot of yelling. Now where is my rapid attack cougar when I need it?)

Anyway, here's the updated scores (last week's only counted one point): Derek 8, Elizabeth G. 6, Caitlin 6, The Sugue 6, Ellen 6, Martha 6, Amy 3, Melissa 3, Rachel 3, Elizabeth E. 6, Kelly 1. (There are still a few of you who haven't done all the past riddles. Get with it ya bums!)

As for the posting contest, Elizabeth E. had the most posts this week, so she gets to make the call on colors (leave em in the comments box and I'll put them up). Until next time (or space).

The Triumphant Return of Cae..er..Dylan

After my brief hiatus in that dank, dark dungeons that are my grandparents lovely home, I have returned! It is so wonderful to bask in the glory of the radiant masses as they shower me with rose petals, cheers, and all sorts of shiny metal shrapnel. I then proceed on to my magnificient abode, wherein wait my trusty servants, Tom Pewter and Homer Werk. As I prepare to give the masses an encouraging speech to assure them that I shall remain with them forever and always, at least in my heart (as long as they don't start scrimping on their taxes), I hear a noise behind me. I turn, and there is Homer with a dagger clutched in his hand! Tom fights him off briefly but Homer eventually overpowers him, diving straight for me! "Y tu Homer Werk?" "Sorry Dylan, Spanish isn't til next semester!" he replies as he shoves the dagger in my heart!

Oh the inhumanity!!! Dylan, once King and Emperor of Procrastinatoria has been dethroned and annihilated! Why?!?! And on this, the Tides of Thanksgiving!

What I'm really trying to say is that, yes I am back from whereever it was I went, and no I will not spoon feed you mushed up asparagus for fifty years after your experiment involving nitroglycerin and cheese goes horribly wrong. Plus, I've got tons of homework. Will that prevent me wasting most of my time and having to rush frantically at 4PM on Monday for a way that I can extend the day 83 and a half hours? Of course not! But that doesn't mean I can't complain about it! (first one to complain about the double negative gets satirically or rhymically punished!)

So I'm stuck here, playing Risk II on the computer (which is surprisingly entertaining, although I can't play against real people) and, as usual, wallowing in despair. I may trying basking and/or surfing in despair if I get bored of wallowing, we'll just have to see. Well, I've got time to waste, and I consider this minutely productive! So away I go!...in a "I'm still right here" kinda way...

Waltzing Alone

Well, it seems the Plague is running rampant throughout the school system. The most likely cause is the incentive points, which seem now to be more of a Devil/soul-selling thing than an actual positive note for education. That's not to say I wouldn't hesitate to come to school and spread some sort of vile contagion even without the accursed points, because I'm just that kind of a fool.

But to cope with all the horrible tragedy (and idle time I thought I'd fill walking through the halls), I've decided to try walking 1 (or 3/4 time, whichever strikes your fancy). It's rather interesting and certainly entertaining. You can just walk along and as the time in the rhythm comes up, backpack permitting, you can twirl around, do a leap, or glide right in front of passers by in an attempt to create a pile-up for your own sadistic enjoyment. It rivals trying to tap out the percussion part to Mars, The Bringer of Mar and hum the main theme at the same time (If you want to drive yourself crazy, try it; 5/4 is just crazy!).

Speaking of my ever spreading insanity, as if I didn't have enough frayed thoughts roaming my mind in search of prey, my contacts apparently require mental power to sustain their incredible non-glasses-requiring-seeing-power-of-refraction. In layman's (and coherent people's) terms, according to the all-knowing optometrist different muscles are used in contacts than in glasses (or the same muscle differently), thus I have to condition my eyes. You'd think after all my years of sight, and there's quite a few believe you me, I'd be good enough at it to not need training. But nnnoooo. So instead, during this arduous process, my mind becomes foggy and I can't focus. Not that I do a very good job under normal circumstances, but you can see how this compounds the problem. Ah well, I guess now I have an excuse for eccentricity. Well, besides the malnourishment and mental scarring.

And that is about all the rambling I feel up to today. Remember to post if you want a chance to change these blasted colors. Otherwise, continue doing what you were doing before you got distracted. Unless it involves five surgeons, a miter saw, and a beautifully grotesque copy of Thomas More's Utopia.

Riddle #5

An incentive to act or an incentive to run
Regardless of which, it’s rarely much fun.
If you have too much, your life it may rule
Yet if you have none, you’re more of a fool.

Used by great leaders to inspire, yet divide
A more potent tool than love or pride.
Often irrational, with no reason why;
Still if you don’t heed it, you’re likely to die.

Overcome it you must, if you wish to succeed
But a healthy amount is something you need.
Without any, you can try what you will,
But I strongly doubt you’ll be with us still.

Well, I managed to waste an hour of time and put off all the mountains of work I need to do, but I managed to pump out another riddle. Not one of my better works, but I had to put up something! I think this one's probably an easier one, but I say that about all of em, so who knows.

Anyway, here's the scores thus far: Derek 5, Elizabeth G. 5, Caitlin 5, The Sugue 5, Ellen 5, Martha 4, Melissa 2, Elizabeth E. 1, Kelly 1. I'm still not enforcing any sort of time limit, but it would be nice to tie up the loose ends a few of you have.

On another note, I've decided to let whoever makes the most posts each week decide what colors the journal will have the next week. You can see a list of the possibilities by doing a google search for hexadecimal colors and clicking the first or second links (there's a virtual crayola box of choices). If you make the most posts, but don't want to choose, then just tell someone else to do it for you (or I'll make it black on black and ride into the distant laughing maniacly).

Well, I've got Chemistry to do, until next time.

Scandal Across the Board!

Big business took another hit today. Allegations against corporate tycoon and mass landowner “Rich Uncle” Pennybags were brought up earlier today. Charges such as money laundering, extortion, tax evasion, bribery, inappropriate relations with inanimate objects, theft, and more have all surfaced earlier today. Pennybags, known for his trademark top hat and shady corporate dealings, has been the source of many past charges, some of which the reader may remember, but this latest set may finally put the mad man behind bars for good.

Foremost of the new allegations is the charge that Mr. Pennybags has been printing his own money and using it to increase his property value and buying power. Pennybags owns a variety of land from run down shacks in the Mediterranean (already in clear violation of building and health codes) to elaborate estates in North Carolina, home of notorious mobsters and ex-Enron executives.

Also, expenses credited to Pennybags’s company, Pennybags Incorporated, are under investigation. Charges such as “Business Supper with Shoe”, “Thursday Night Thimble Meeting”, “Evening Entertaining Iron”, frequent trips to the “Boardwalk”, and others are especially concerning. Pennybags is notorious for his blatant abuse of his personality and power, swaying local beauty contest officials, stealing public funds, extorting illegal marriage taxes, using tax loopholes to gain money through unemployment benefits, holding a general monopoly over the Boarding District, and more.

Although charged before, Pennybags has used mysterious colored slips of paper to avoid any confinement within federal facilities. This brings up further charges against the local police force who are being called out for failure to cite Miranda Rights, arbitrary and completely random arrests, a flagrant speed trap apprehending even lawful individuals, not to mention bribery and poorly guarded prisons.

A tenant of Pennybags describes him more as a mad dictator. “ The man is clearly daft. He treats us as if we’re pawns in some sort of game! He sells our homes to his pet dog and luxury sports car and buys them back after they’ve decimated everything! His sports car for crying out loud! Not only that, but he uses his own personal cannons and battleships to wage wars for his own amusement on our front yards. He’ll buy houses and hotels, erect them in one day, and demolish them an hour later with no warning to the poor residents whatsoever! He’s a menace that needs to be stopped!”

Pennybags Inc.’s owner, the P&B Corp., said through a spokesman “We’re shocked at these frivolous and obviously unsubstantiated charges! Mr. Pennybags is a model citizen who is a staunch supporter of all things American. After conducting our own investigation we fully expect to welcome Mr. Pennybags back into the P&B family.”

Pennybags had this to say as being escorted to a waiting police car. “This is just another example of the liberal media trying to take trumped up, minor incidents and use them discredit and take down successful businessmen! It’s all part of a vast communist conspiracy to tear down all that this country is made of. Mark my words, this is just the beginning!”

Pennybags arch-rival “ Brother Comrade” Nocash Foreyu made no comment but only let out a deep, maniacal laugh as he jumped onto his solid black winged unicorn and rode into the sunset followed by his legions of yellow hatted leprechauns singing "Turkey in the Straw."

Pennybags is scheduled to begin preliminary hearings November 31.

Here and Here Again

Well, as the Model UNers prepare to go off on another voyage to try and save the world, I'm stuck at home (once again) thinking of what might have been. I've actually been doing it quite a lot lately. Regrets, mistakes, murders I didn't cover up too well, that hobo who still thinks I'm a leprechaun with the power to make him a real tuna sandwich (not those fakes kinds he sees in his dreams), these things and more plague my mind. The word that most comes up is "should". "You should have done this." "You should never have done that." "You should have used that rocket launcher three seconds sooner." You get the gist.

Perhaps I should have tried to go to the Model UN thing. Last year I was largely dissappointed, aside from my stint in front of the Security Council, but the needless formality and biased workings of the convention were only parts of my antipathy towards it. I suppose I expected more and, as usual when I raise my expectations, my ideas crashed and burned. Plus I got afflicted with my normal jitters and knowing how to do things much better in hindsight. Maybe I'll try Youth Ledge.

Ah well, what can you do? Other than create a time machine, go back (forward) in time, make the necessary changes, and watch reality and existence crumble in front of your very eyes. *Sigh* One of these days. Now where did I leave my How-To-Make-A-Big-Explosion-With-A-Toothbrush-And-A-Container-Of-Peanut-Butter Pamphlet....

A Day Like Any Other (except this one's worth noting)

Well, today was eventful in the normal uneventful way my life normally is. I raged against society a bit more today, and in finding one of those truths about life, I realized that it's moving closer to anarchy and Ayn Rand's philosophy (no, not all of it, and yes, I'm as shocked as you are). It really is rather disturbing, but I'll be glad to talk about it if you have no better way to waste your time. (As a Warning to Readers, I strongly advise against seeking the ultimate Truth and furtherance of man's understand of existence. It's not only depressing, but it can really kill a party).

On another note, I went to that farce of a initiation in the National Honors Society. I really don't understand the need for them, but I go along like the rest of the flock because it's not worth protesting (although I do regret not writing my typical "Washington Irving" in the sign-in book thing). On the bright side, I got to mingle with my homies, which I rather enjoyed. It was rather strange, seeing as how I was intoxicated on the atmosphere (I think; maybe Conatser spiked the lemonade). But it was kinda fun; just inspired me to pursue the board game thing more (much better than any stupid movie or other social event). I mean really; who can refuse an all night 4 player Stratego extravanganza.

Thirdly (yes, it's that kind of a day), I borrowed Weird Al's new CD (even though it's been out quite a few monthes) from The Sugue. I enjoyed it. I have a flair for the dramatically and ironically tragic, finding it strangely beautiful but still depressing. The music of a few of the songs was like that, but the words were quite satirical and humorous, making it all the better.

And finally, here's this weeks (and last week's) quotes (even though they both happened just now). Caitlin after getting the riddle wrong:
Caitlin: #$%&#$%&$%*&$%^%^$#$^#
Caitlin: %$&$%$*$%*^$%*$*^$%*^&%^$$@#@
IndubitablyDyl: wow
Caitlin: yep
IndubitablyDyl: You sound quite irritated
Caitlin: yep
Caitlin: you'd better run tomorrow
But things got better, and she tried to get by through flattery:
Caitlin: Dylan, you're such a hunk.
Then she rapidly degenerated into bribery and threats saying:
Caitlin:Winning is Fun.
Caitlin: But Cheating to win is delicious.
(These are barely edited, folks!) And there you have it.

Well, that's all for today. Heck, that should be all for the week! (You wish...)

Riddle #4

Frozen with no snow or ice;
A moment sold for a price;
Real, imagined, some of each,
Reality’s frame it does often breach.

All sorts of action, but of movement none;
It can render shadows brilliant or darken the sun.
Full of emotion, yet it never feels;
A deeper message it often deals.

What you see, someone else may not:
Life’s great meaning or an ink blot?
If ages old, it’s timeless still.
Know the answer? Then please tell Dyl!

Well, another week another riddle. I didn't get around to a very hard one (again), but maybe next week. Interest seems to be waning, which is alright, more glory for the three of you still answering! The scores thus far are Derek 5, Elizabeth G. 5, Caitlin 5, The Sugue 3, Martha 2, Melissa 2, Lee 1, Elizabeth E. 1, Kelly 1.

I'll delay the answer time limit again, just because I can. But at any moment, I may decide to enforce it (I'm tricky, ya know). Anywho, time for some Pre-Cal. Unenthusiastic "yays" for everyone!

Bored Games

On another note, now that West is out of the playoffs, I need something to do Friday nights. Well, actually I need something to do any night, but I particularly like Friday Nights more than most others. So I thought "What would be the best thing to do when bored?" Then, I thought "What is wrong with society today?" After the initial overload and feelings of hopeless for the future of mankind, I thought of the answer to at least one question. "I know, play a Bored Game!" I know, I know, you're groaning from literary pain. Sorry for the pun, but the point remains.

Now, unless I can find some dark alley corner or a phat pad, actually playing an actual game might be an exercise in hopeless futility. So it might be a nice idea to make use of this wonderful waste of time we call Al Gore's internet (yes, I know his quote is just taken out of context and he didn't say it, but it's still fun to point fun at). Using yahoo, or playsite, or whatever works, I'd like to at least get 4 people. If more doubtfully and foolishly show interest, we can have mini-tournaments. So, if you'd be interested in playing some sort of game online (ie spades, monopoly, Go Fish, what have you) or in whatever plane of existence you so desire on a semi-regular basis, speak up. If you don't know how to play anything, I'm sure you can learn.

Although most of my ideas like this fail miserably, I figure I can go ahead and give it a shot. I can't look much crazier and foolish than I already do. Right?

Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dead

Well I just thought I should inform those who don't know that I am, in fact, the Evil Twin. During elementary school and early Middle School, the Good Twin was the one making the calls. He was generally a happy kid, albeit often stressed. Rathey shy, liked to tell jokes, read quite a bit, ate at least two meals a day, had a few bursts of anger (a few homicide attempts), but that was just venting. Then, he got frustrated during middle school (That's a tragedy for another day). So, in a moment of his weakness, I knocked him over the head with a dictionary and tossed his body in the river (along with a bag full of kittens I just happened to have). Since then, I've been calling the shots. Cynical, foolish, on a purposeless hunger strike, sometimes downright odd, apathetic, evil puppy kicker extraordinare that's me.

Sometimes I wonder if Good Twin is still out there, trying to come back. Perhaps after I've gained full domination of the world, he'll show up in the whole hero-bravado thing and try to take me out from my perch of power (even though the world will be in a general utopia; some people are just silly like that). Then we'll have an epic all out struggle, judgment day, the apocalypse, yada yada, and then I'll win again. It's a vicious cycle.

Can you really blackmail the time-space continuum?

I wondered that myself this morning, as I rushed to school having woken up at 8:10 and left the house at 8:14. Now, normally it takes around 17-20 minutes to get to school. Still, I managed to get to school and would have been in the English door if they didn't have the side doors locked. So, even though I walked in 3seconds after the bell rang, I did not sign in on the principal of door redundancy (and because I didn't want to be late).

I was still shocked that I had made it on time (sorta). I can only conclude that the guys at the time-space continuum decided to lend a hand. Now, for those who don't know, the employees of "Time/Space Incorporated" (as they're sometimes called) are all real jerks. For instance, that whole watched pot thing, that's them. The whole "one more mile and I'm there" thing, that's them. They're just not nice. Some say it's because of the strain of the work, others say it's because they never get any recognition, most people just say "Dylan, there are no beings working the time-space continuum, now get back in your padded room and start throwing yourself at the walls again."

Now you may be asking "But Dylan, why does life exist?" If you are indeed asking that, then you haven't been paying attention. If you are paying attention, you might be wondering how I managed to get the time-space continuum distorted. Well, you see, I've got some dirt on the whole thing. My "radical ideas" seem so incredibly impossible, that they make perfect sense thus they have the ability to shake the very foundations of existence. So, they cut me a little slack to save their jobs and so they won't have to clean up the mess (How else do you think Neptune got created? Someone made a major mistake there, believe you me).

And there you have it. Until next time or space or plane or whatever.

Riddle #3

Ally of downtrodden, it gives the weakest a chance;
A much needed fuel for an optimist's stance.
It lends even the worst off a reason to live,
A chance for a better future is what it does give.

The young usually have it, but it fades after time,
It still provides quite a boost through life's arduous climb.
But the higher you climb, the greater your fall,
If you stake too much, you just might lose it all.

Alone it is useless, just the substance of dream,
With determination it forms a powerful team.
It inspires progress, improvement, success
You might need a lot, to interpret this mess.

Well, better late than never. Sorry for the delay; perhaps I'll eventually get around to writing them ahead of time. At any rate, I finally did get it done, and that's what matters. As a note, for the confused reader, "this mess" refers to the riddle not the answer and "with determination" means along with the idea determination, not how it forms the "team", (I know some of you have a tizzy about that sort of thing).

As for the standings, last week's riddle was worth 2 points for a certain answer, one point for the weaker, not a focused or concentrated answer (IM me if you're confused). So here they are, in no particular order: Derek 3, Elizabeth G. 3, Caitlin 3, Martha 2, Melissa 2, The Sugue 1, Lee 1, Elizabeth E. 1, Kelly 1.

It's still not too late to answer for this week's and last week's riddles. If you haven't please do so soon. I'll still accept the answers until next Monday, after which I'll start enforcing a week long limit (if you do answer after that, you can still get half credit).

That's all, for now.

The Rebels Went Down to Cleveland

Well, last night was rather interesting. I remembered to bring gloves so, unlike last time, my hands did not turn into the hands of Death itself and burn with the fires that can only be found in the coldest of cold (very minimal frostbite recovery pains, for those less dramatically inclined). And, of course, we won. For those who missed it, you missed a good game.

One of the strange things about High School games is that I don't pay attention to them constantly. Usually I'll pay attention through the first quarter or so, get distracted through the second, talk to the band in the third, and pay attention in the fourth. Last night was no different. I was summoned to Martha and Cathy's side to participate in "cute" "clever" word plays such as "My Little Chinese Take-Out", "My Danish Danish", "My Mexican Jumping Bean", etc. Now, I'm as much a fan as plays on words as the next guy, but after awhile even I have my limit. Apparently they don't. So, after numerous escape attempts involving flares, jail breaks, and a whole lot of confetti, a decoy presented herself and I jumped the razor-sharp, electric fence, got past the heat-seeking guard kittens, and evaded the Acid-shooting Helicopters to make my get-away into the bright horizon. Well, I may have exaggerated a bit, and it really wasn't that bad, but nevertheless, it's still based on truth I tells ya!

The Pep Bus was also slightly interesting. Now, most of you who come here can generally go along with whatever crazy, rambling, random, nonsensical conversations I come up with. To the uninitiated, I just seem crazy (no, I know what I said. You don't have to point out the flaws and or irony). I believe I've convinced Michael Winston (a former Northwestern, such as myself. Once you've been through that horror, you lose a piece of your soul!) that I am just that. Now, I can't be sure, but he gave me quite a few "Riiiiggghhhtttt" looks. I mean, I only talked about the right way to found and use a cult and the ethics of hobo killing (one is an accident, two is a public service, three is a serial killing, yada yada). He didn't go along with it as well as I'm sure some of you would have, but he didn't mace and/or maul me either.

Anyway, I should be posting a riddle later today or tomorrow (my sister created a violent take-over while I was writing this so although it was started Saturday, it's being posted Sunday). I don't want to make Sunday's post super long, we'll just have to see how things go. Until next time...

I can make titles?

Well, at the suggestion of The Sugue, I've decided to write about something that relates in no way to my day today. Keep in mind, I do realize that as soon as I start writing about it, it has taken a part of my day and therefore is void. Try to ignore the paradoxes, oxymorons, and giant waffles and you'll do fine."

After minimal deliberation, I've decided Ross Perot has had no affect on my day, up to this point. Yes, that's right. Ross Perot. For those who don't know him, he's the big-eared, Texas billionaire who ran for president in 1992 and 1996 as an independent and got 19% and 8% of the popular vote, respectively.

Now, one interesting thing about Ross is he's crazy. He's pretty much admitted it. He's obssessive, paranoid, and all sorts of cooky things you can find if you search google long enough (ain't unsupported sources fun!). Really, I'm rather surprised he hasn't expanded towards world domination. I wouldn't be that surprised if he has a secret volcano lair deep in the heart of Texas where he oversees his minions and plots our eventual Doom.

So Ross, from me to you, good luck. I'll be there to take over when the voices start telling you to polka with that pink wildebeast that just walked in the back door your car doesn't have.

And, for lack of anything better, here's this week's Best IM quote (you people really need to think out of the box more when you talk to me!):
Kelly: Whoa, setting off a nuclear warhead with a paw sounds like quite a feat.

Well, I must be some sort of prophet because it seems that I know myself entirely too well. Indeed, our rally was today and, of course, I had a subconscious panic attack. They amaze and confound me. Not only are they completely irrational, but they work in such strange ways. I falter over simple words, skip entire sentences, and my mind is a general state of confusion, even though I can't tell exactly what's wrong. Even despite all of my experience in the spotlight (albeit, not that much, but enough that I wouldn't expect such a radical reaction), I still have panic attacks. Derek and Zaq didn't appear to have that problem, maybe they know the secret to success. Go figure.

Anywho, not much else happened today. I did obtain a few good ideas for future rhymes (such as "Ode to the Parentheses"), and they may show up sometime soon. Or they may go the way of the passenger pigeon and deliver a few pizzas before venturing to the big bird house in the sky (and by that, I mean Big Bird's rooftop appartment). Happy Time Wasting!

Well, I suppose the band folks will be back today (barring any inexplicable warps in the time-space continuum or penguin air-raids[I Told You Not To Feed Them!!!]). I suppose I'll begrudgingly acknowledge their existence, (although I might pretend Carrie's not back for a few more days, just to maintain at least a semblance of tranquility). Anywho, I'm glad you guys are back (or will be, by the time you read this). Silence is alright for awhile, but eventually it gets rebellious and tries to get you to do things like go outside, clean house, or something else equally (and horribly) productive. For a supposedly mute idea, it sure does demand a lot!

On another note, tomorrow's the History rally. I don't really know the educational value of it, but someone's got to be JQ. So I'll go there, make my nervous, fumbling speech in my shoddy, impromptu costume, and then stand there awkwardly and wait for the blasted thing to end. How many times has that happened before? (And yes, that's a rhetorical question. You don't need to answer it). So that means I've been Baron Holbach, Thomas Jefferson, Napoleon, Blaise Pascal(sorta), the Artist Never Known as Prince, and now John Quincy Adams. There are probably others, but only so many ghosts can haunt me at once.

Well, that about wraps it up for today (other than a haircut and me getting examined/whatever you call it for contacts). Until next time...

Well, at least I got a riddle up. It seems that most of my riddles that aren't terribly flawed are either too easy or impossible. Go figure. As a score update, I've had two right answers and one half-right answer (since it's 12lines, the whole thing is worth 2 points, so I'm giving halfcredit for a certain answer). Ah well, maybe someday I'll make another difficult riddle (I've just had one thus far).

Anywho, I've been stricken by my approximately tri-yearly cold. They're rather annoying little devils, and miserable becomes a permanent state, temporarily. It's times like these where you are able to appreciate all the rest of the time you're not sick or injured or whatever. When you're feeling down and depressed, just think of all the agonizing, annoying, and downright terrible situations you're not in at that particular moment, it can really put things into perspective. For instance "Gee, this math test is tough! How can it possibly get worse? Oh yes, I could be naked, boiling over a molten pit while acid slowly drops onto my feet, and I could have a cold with a migraine headache, and spiders with sharp, itchy legs crawl all over my back, and I could have to listen to free form poetry all at the same time!" So see, it can always get worse. Except in one situation, but if I bring that up, it might just jinx it.

Well, I've got to go get some snot out of my throat! Later!

Riddle #2
Fuel for an intense fire that rages from within,
The source of many horrors, and the cause of so much sin
Yet still it's brought much good, when targeted at strife,
It's simply part of living, a part of human life.

Many try to stop it, and sometimes they succeed,
Yet to stop injustice, it's something we can need.
An obstacle to peace, this is to be sure,
Many think they're tainted, unless of this they're pure.

Although you may not think it, it shows you really care,
Still when you're the target, you'd rather be elsewhere.
It gives many a life a meaning, strange, and yet it's true;
So tell me what's the answer, and does it afflict you?

Well there you have it. Sort of late, but what are you going to do, fire me? This one may be tough because you may not agree with some of the lines I attribute to the answer. Just remember to look at your ideas from different perspectives, and I don't think this will be too hard. As far as the results for the first week, virtually everyone got it right, although I made one or two allowances since very shortly after I wrote the riddle I went back to change it to make it more specific. The ones who entered (and now have 1), for those who were idly wondering about such trivial things, were Caitlin, Martha, Derek, Lee, THE SUGUE, Melissa, Kelly, Elizabeth G., and Elizabeth E.

For those who haven't sent in an answer, you still have two weeks before I enforce the one week time limit, so send away ( DeepFriedDyl@comcast.net).
(The last riddle was on Friday, October 24 if you want to look in the archives).

Well, as an effort to make this thing a tad more entertaining, I'd like to start doing something on a weekly basis in addition to my riddles. So to start it off, I'll have a "IM quote o' the week."

IndubitablyDyl: I should do so many things
Derek: but then where would all the time you had planned not to do anything go?
Derek: you can't just break commitments like that

If I had a "should" for every "did", I'd be completely in control of the world by now. We're talking, to every minute detail. Well, except for my co-dictator. (You have to have a backup you know; flaming gerbil ninjas of Chaos are a real problem when you've taken over whole civilizations).

Speaking of co-dictators, one thing we did accomplish today at the Math Competition (other than me failing to do any superior feats of mathness, getting separated from everyone else (as is my custom, unfortunately), and resorting to doing Math Homework while not in school) was the brainstorming for a new number system/language. Some of you may not know it, but our 10-base number system isn't the only one available. Binary, a 1-base, only uses 0's and 1's to create a language. I.E., 101101101 is 365. So at the Math competition, we came up for the idea of a subliminal, world domanationish system. For instance, 1, 2, 3, Deanna (just cause it's Deanna), 4,5, OBEY, 6, 7, DYLAN, 9, 10, YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED, 12, 13, 14, THERE IS A MAN WITH A GUN RIGHT BEHIND YOU, DO EXACTLY AS HE SAYS AND NOTHING WILL GO WRONG, 16, 17, 18, 19, POISON BEBE GUN PELLETS, 20, 21... etc. Pretty inconspicuous, eh? Oh the ideas spawned in rambling, semi-nonsensical conversations....

Have you ever listened to a conversation that seemed completely over your head? I mean, we're talking about another plane of comprehension that you can't hope to understand? It just gives you a feeling of insignificance, that you will never achieve such a higher level of understanding

Then you remember that you're the one with the undead radioactive mongeese of DOOM, thus you're fine just the way you are. If you don't have anysort of army of amazingly enhanced creatures, by all means make one. It's rather an interesting activity...

That brings up another interesting subject. An interesting form of conversation is a pure nonsensical discussion. Both parties converse in a perfectly serious manner, but you're actually talking about things that make no sense, never will make sense, and could not possibly happen. You simply have a normal discussion about pure nonsense in the form of great ideas, made up events, or even, dare I say it, world domination plans (the latter probably being the best). No one says anything about it being pure nonsense, for it must treated as feasible. There's sort of a mutual bond, a link of mutual understanding unique to the participants. Try it (especially in the prescense of people incapable of such a discussion, confusing them to bits!).

(By the way, I realize my comments section is often on the fritz; my suggestion is to save what you write beforehand, especially if it's long, try it two or three times, then come back 5minutes later and retry. It'll eventually end up working. If the comments line isn't even there, just come back later. The blogspot site,for the actual log, and Blogspeak site, for the comments, are two independent functions, so one can be down without the other. Over and Far, Far Out.)

I have just about decided that the practice of English/poetical analysis is a scam and fundamentally flawed. For those unaware, this involves interpretting regular, mundane activities and objects into complex, dramatic views of Nature, man, and the purpose of existence.

While I've felt this feeling more or less for quite some time, it was never more apparent that today in Accounting. I reached into my pocket, out of boredom, and found a tootsie roll (no not from three weeks ago; I put it in there this morning so I'd have a sugar rush to be able to pay attention in Chemistry today after lunch). The tootsie roll had become a tad mushy and soft from being in there for a few hours. After thinking on it for 30seconds, I went over to my man David Lane and explained to him that the tootsie roll represented man. The wrapper of the tootsie roll represented society's constrain-ment of man. It smothered him and made him seem like something he is not, making him conform to society's view of what is right. If not freed soon, he would surely be destroyed eventually from the pressure and falsity of his predicament (aka it'd melt in my pocket).

Conversely, once freed of society's protective shell (wrapper), man (tootsie roll) is free to truely show himself and live to his full potential. However, with the shell gone, it was only a brief matter of time until he was gobbled up by the society that could see him for what he was, and either destroys him from admiration or abhorrence. Thus man's relationship to society was revealed.

There you have it. I just used a tootsie roll to demonstrate all of that. Now if that doesn't tell you that symbolism is just an abirtrary, highly opinionated hoax, then you have more faith in humanity than I. Until next time...

Have you ever had one of those weekends where, despite your best intentions, you can't see to get anything remotely productive accomplished? This weekend, I had so many great plans towards getting rooms cleaned, homework done, evidence destroyed, bodies buried, you know, the usual. But I never could get motivated.

Of course, that's the cover I give to the world. Here's what really happened:
So I was in my room, thinking "Gee, I really ought to clean this place up", when all of a sudden, my window is shattered and a burning gerbil is tossed in. The gerbil, obviously with a short time to live, explains in high, squeaky Gerbilease (which I had just happened to learn last weekend out of boredom) that the world was in grave peril. If I did not find the Unholy Wristwatch of Never-ending Annoyance, the world would cease to turn, thus creating a temporal disturbance, ultimately destroying all known life (and some death as well). So I set off on my quest. Little did I know that I was being followed. As I crossed the Atlantic, I was set upon by three ninjas armed with really, really big thumbnails. As they rushed towards me, I noticed that the in-flight movie was about to start. So, being the resourceful chap that I am not, I quickly bought a pair of headphones and staired intently at the screen.

Now, for those who are unaware, it is very bad etiquette to disturb someone watching an inflight movie. I mean, they've spent $10 for some crummy headphones for a dumb, censored movie, so they should be able to watch in peace. Unfortunately, the movie happened to be "101 Ways to Watch Paint Dry: A Documentary." I knew my life was on the line, so I sat through all four agonizing hours. Torture most foul indeed, but I survived and evaded the ninjas after arriving in my former capital, Luxembourg (another, longer story).

I immediately ventured into the slums, which in Luxembourg are the equivalent to your average cardboard box with a bay window and complete home entertainment system. In other words, pretty nice. I then found one of my many informants "Jehn "the Lawn" Maher." Jehn told me to "Go forth and Prosper." I punched him in the face. Then he told me to:
"Travel far, travel near, just please don't come back here!
What you seek cannot be found on this earth or any ground!
Venture to that place on high, Deep below the cloudly sky,
Filled with birds and twigs and such, koalas, lampreys nothing much.
There you'll find your watch and complete your quest, you'll have saved the earth and passed the test.
But heed my warning, heed it well, Avoid the river straight to Hell;
It only leads to fatty foods and Really Grumpy Attitudes!"
He then proceeded humming "Turkey in the Straw", whereupon I punched him once again and set out.

Now, as much as I valued my now toothless informant, I knew he told nothing but lies, half-truths, and trivial information that only impressed tourists. Therefore, logically, the Unholy Wristwatch of Never-ending Annoyance must be found under a rock deep in the belly of a nearby skunk ape way back in K-Town. I then used my magical "Teleportation Device of Plot-Holes" to find the ape, kill it using my handy-dandy "Spear o' Mint", grab the watch and set the time-space continuum back in order.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the long and short of why I accomplished next to nothing productive this weekend. Thank you.

Some of you may still be wondering "But Dylan, you're such a lazy, good for nothing, procrastinating bum; what's with the sudden burst of enthusiasm in writing, long, incoherent, babbling posts about nothing in particular?" Well, you anonymous voice you, let me try to explain a bit. It's widely known I'm a huge procrastinator. So, by writing in this silly thing, I'm wasting even more time in the guise of productivity, a win win. Also, I mentioned sharp and pointy objects aimed at vital organs. Well, that's not even the half of it. You see, although some people seem like nice, kind, caring people, they can be quite evil when they so desire. However, they have to be sneaky about it, so as to not give away their ruse. One such instance is Martha, the reigning champion and master riddle solver extraordinare. She's been one of the people hounding me about making more, but she tries to do it without seeming evil. Our conversations almost took on a second conversation... And here, for your reading enjoyment, is a dramatic reinactment of one such conversation (on AIM):

Martha: Hey! (Translation: You know what I'm here for.)
Me: Hello. (Translation: I don't have the foggiest idea!)
Martha: How are you? (Translation: Where's my freakin riddle!? Don't make me break out the baseball bat!)
Me: I'm alright, yourself? (Translation: Umm...Uh... Well, funny story that. I've been meaning to write a riddle, I've just...uh... been busy.)
Martha: That's good; I'm doing fine myself. (Trans: Likely story! I know where you live, and if you want to stay "alright" I suggest you make a riddle, kapish?)
Me: So, what's new? (Trans: You wouldn't dare! I'll get around to a riddle when it suits me!)
Martha: Oh not much; hey are you planning on making any riddles soon? (Trans: Oh, Wouldn't I!?! I want a riddle, I want it now! I'd hate for anything drastic to happen, like say, someone just "happening" to throw a big, explosive brick at your computer...)
Me: I've been meaning too, I'll do it soon. (Trans: Not my computer! You monster! Fine, I'll make you your accursed riddle, but leave my computer out of this!)
Martha: Well let me know when you've got it done! (Trans: That's right, just make the rhyme and no one gets hurt...)
Me: I certainly will! Bleh, look at the time, I've got kittens to save and homework to do! (Trans: *mumbles* I'll get to work right away! Just put down the tazer and everything will be fine!)
Martha: Alright, talk to you later! (Trans: Alright, bub, but I'm watching you! If you even think you can lie to me, you're in for a big surprise, and this kind doesn't involve The Publisher's Clearing House and thousands upon thousands of shiny metal butterflies, if you catch my drift!)
Me: Cya! (Trans: Yes, have no fear, I'm working right now, honest! I'll have it by next weekend! I'd best get to work *runs fleeing into the hills*)

Well, there you have it. Could you feel the cold, evil venom? And to think, that was the censored version! Well, back to the grindstone. I've got a deadline to make!

Do you ever feel so lazy that you just don't want to do anything at all? I mean, we're talking about "well, breathing is fun and all, but it just takes too much effort!" Well, maybe not that bad. But sometimes you just start watching TV and even though there is absolutely nothing worth watching on (Meaning you actually consider watching Fox News for more than a morbid laugh), and you don't want to do anything at all.

Anyway, I'm sitting in bed last night watching some stupid Comedy Central Show at 1AM(meaning any show that is not a SNL rerun, an episode of South Park that had good, quality satire, or ,of course, the Daily Show), and I start thinking "Gee, I need to go to sleep. But to do that, I need to get up and brush my teeth, which takes entirely too much effort. But I can't go to sleep without brushing my teeth. So, the only alternative, is to keep watching the TV until my eyes fall out, hatch open like eggs, and whatever corrupted spawn of evil that can be found within them comes alive, jumps out the window, robs three convenience stores, and hitchs a ride to North Dakota, where they aren't heard from again until 150 years later when it's discovered their secret Utopian society was destroyed by a rogue squirrel who somehow caught a rare strain of the West Nile virus." *Deep Breath*

Anyway, that is just an example of the sheer amount of apathy and immense laziness that can strike when you most expect it. You have been warned. The morals? Brush your teeth, don't watch Fox News, and never, under any circumstances, allow your eyes to become eggs in some sinister plot to create a Utopian society, especially if you're not invited.

Well, as I said that I probably would almost certainly do, here's the first of the continuance of the riddle contest! The Rules for the Riddle Contest are as follows:
1. Email me your answer at DeepFriedDyl@comcast.net . Under no circumstances post it in the comments section (I would suggest not even reading any of the comments sections until you've answered the riddle, just in the name of fairness).
2. When emailing me your answer, let me know what name you wish to go by when I post the standings. If you don't want to be posted, or you only want to be posted if you got it right, let me know.
3. In the comments section, post whatever suggestions etc. that you want about the "Contest." If you see blatant errors that you feel interfere with the riddle, let me know. I reserve the right to completely ignore whatever you say, regardless of accuracy, but you can always try. I'd also like to broaden it from just a simple riddle contest to spades tournaments, stories, reader submissions, whatever. So let me know what you think.
4. Anyone can enter at any time, as long as I know them (so if you want to tell someone about it and I know them, go ahead.) After November 16, if you enter a riddle later than the weekly allotted time, it will only receive half credit (unless you have a doctor's note).
5. Each riddle of 13-16 lines will be 1 point. 9-12 lines is 2, 5-8 lines is three and less is 4. If only 20% or less of the participants get the riddle right, it will be worth double points.

That's all, for now (I'll post the results next time I write a riddle). Here it is. (I think it's pretty easy, but then again, I wrote it.)

A simple object, used all of the time
Is the focus of this riddling rhyme.
Its uses are many, some grand others not,
You might be surprised by the powers its got.

Wielded by many, but mastered by few,
Such use dulls and can shatter, just hone to renew.
Scratching and scraping, always leaving its mark:
Not blood or ruin, just a deep slash of dark.

Blunt or sharp, it matters not,
A quite potent tool in many a plot.
Harmless in the hands of a fool,
In the grasp of genius, a powerful tool.

What it creates, it can also destroy,
The cause of great horror, but also great joy.
A mundane creation, yet amazing as well,
If you know what it is, don’t stop, please do tell!

((Just as a follow up to the riddle. I realize that brevity is not my forte. I know I'm not perfect, nor are my riddles or anything else I write. With that said, when writing most of my riddles, I have one set item or idea in mind. Occasionally, another can fit. However the most important thing you can do is to analyze each and every comment to make sure each one applies to at least some extent to your answer. For instance, a car and a truck are similiar, but are not exactly the same. I may decide to let both count, or just one, depending upon the riddle. Just in case, please look at every part of the riddle. Some lines may apply better than others, but generally each line will work. Until next time...))

Wow, what a night. I tell ya what, there's nothing like a dramatic finish to the regular season sending your team to the playoffs that gets the blood moving through your veins. (Well, my cold, stiff, fingers that couldn't point straight towards the end would disagree, but they deserved it, cheeky freaks).
Anyway, for those who missed it, West came back in the final minute or so of the game to kick a 30 or so yard field goal with :07 left in the game. It was quite exciting, especially considering our track record for field goals and extra points this year. Still, we won in dramatic fashion, and that's what matters.

However the game was just one part of my wild misadventure. I left home, thinking "Well, I've got this direction thing down, I've done my MapQuest, gotten instructions from my mother, and now I'm set." Apparently, I was horribly, horribly wrong. After getting in the general vicinity, I promptly ignored my MapQuest and set off looking for a "Wal-Mart" as instructed by my mother. Now, with Wal-Marts these days, one would think they'd be easy to find. But like money, fame, fortune, hand grenades, and the phone number of the nearest pizza place, they're never around when you need them. So I continued on to Union County. Somewhere along the road, I saw a building with the word "GUNS" in big letters. Just the sort of encouraging thing I like to see as a beacon of hope in strange territory. Over every rise, I though "Surely this next patch of civilization will have the fabled Wal-Mart and Halls shall be nearby!" But no. Anyway, after awhile, I realized I was chasing El Dorado, called my mother (who sort of set me straight), and rushed back to see the game.

Then, on the way back, I was innocently driving home (the right way this time) when one of my glasses lens burst out of its shell and rushed at my jugular. An epic battle ensued where three innocent bystanders were brutally murdered and I barely escaped by melting the rogue lens into a puddle of evil mush. Ok, so minus the whole psychotic thing, it was still rather disconcerting driving with one eye shut (I pulled over eventually and fixed it). That about convinced me then and there to go contacts. Anyway,I then I promptly made another wrong turn, took a ten minute detour, and made it home in one piece.

There you have it. Long? yes. Concise? no. Brilliant enough to revolutionize the way we perceive the very fabric of space and time? You bet your best friend's wallet! As this post demonstrates, I will indeed be posting "journal entries" when I feel like it. So if you have a problem with it, you know where the suggestion box is! (Right underneath this post, by the way). And with that, I'll end this rambling, incoherent journal entry.

F.N. I'm going to make a riddle this weekend, I really mean it! No really, I do! Really!

Well, I've finally gotten motivated enough to start/update one of these blasted things. Why? Well, I feel the need to spread my unerring wisdom, advice, and raving lunatical(if it's not a word, it should be) words of complete, and utter proposterousness (see the above). And also because a few individuals, who will remain anonymous at this juncture, aimed a series of increasingly horrendous sharp, pointy objects at some of my various vital organs.

Anywho, yes I will be posting some riddles in the near future, and yes, I'll be posting whatever else I feel like too. I appreciate any comments you have, any at all. I also don't really care who reads this, as long as I know them and they don't have plans in the near future to abduct me, horribly torture me during a brainwashing session of immense proportions, then leave me on the side of the road, deserted in the middle of the desert.

And that's that, for now *evil, ominous laughter*. (It'd be nice if you made a post to say you've been here and done that, or about how st00p1d I am, listing the reasons I should be tossed off a cliff ASAP, or just to say "Hello, dylan, it's about time you got working on this, you lazy bum!" Enjoy.)

This is a Test. This is only a Test. Do not Pass Go. Do not collect $200.