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Friday,
February 13, 2004
Depressing and/or snitty Ambrose Bierce quote of the day: Instead of a mere quote, today we have a depressing and/or snitty quiz! Take it, yo!  With what appropriate and relevant quotation can my fish, channeling Ambrose Bierce, advise you? Quizilla seems to be operational for the moment, but it's liable to go down at any point. Sorry if this doesn't work. It's all them. - declared by Liusia @ 8:11 PM Thursday,
February 12, 2004
Depressing and/or snitty Ambrose Bierce quote of the day: 
- declared by Liusia @ 6:04 PM What, I had nothing interesting to post today, shut up, let's see you make a better blog now, eh?  Which Historical Lunatic Are You? From Rum and Monkey.  Which Survivor of the Impending Nuclear Apocalypse Are You? A Rum and Monkey joint.  I am Syphilis. Don't Screw With Me, Or I'll Give You Dementia. Take the Affliction Test Today!  Which Evil Criminal are You? - declared by Liusia @ 6:01 PM Tuesday,
February 10, 2004
Depressing and/or snitty Ambrose Bierce quote of the day: 
- declared by Liusia @ 11:39 PM Dude. Partake in the awesomeness. First of all, RuPaul has a blog. Having a message of enlightenment is like yelling "soylent green is people!" at a cannibal convention, they just don't care. I would so hang out with RuPaul. In other awesome news, there is this website, which warms my WWII propaganda-lovin', Homeland Security-hatin' heart. I'm particularly in love with the corporate news poster and the Fahrenheit 451 one. Once I start getting paychecks, I just may have to order them. - declared by Liusia @ 4:08 PM It's time to christen the fish! Final tally: 2 for Ambrose 1 for Tertullian 1 for Archiebald 1 for Begbie 1 for Melkior 1 for Sammael 1 for "Mr. Happy" You people are so damn clever. Any one of these would have been great. Anyway, I was inclined to ignore the voting and just go with Sammael, which makes me giggle, but unfortunately, Sammael is also a Wheel of Time character, and I have renounced Robert Jordan and all his works. Hence, I will obey the mandate of the people. Thus I present you with...Ambrose the Betta. 
I think I'll make "Ambrose says" a daily feature here. Every day, a new Ambrose Bierce quote! Until I get bored with it. - declared by Liusia @ 12:03 PM Update: 
Aaaaaaaaaughhhhh! The "four/dollar sign" key has popped off my laptop's keyboard! - declared by Liusia @ 11:20 AM Monday,
February 09, 2004
Huzzah huzzah huzzay! I'm gainfully employed! Granted, not all that gainfully, but I finally have a job, which means I shall be able to keep body and soul together for a few months more. (And, apparently, that I shall begin channeling my potato-famine'd ancestors. Jeez. "Body and soul together"?) I've been looking for something part-time, on the busline (for I am car-less), possible to do while still attending classes and not, if possible, tremendously sucky. My search continued in vain until Jess pointed me toward an opening she'd heard about, pushing paper for an animal research facility. Since I, typist and copy-machine cajoler extraordinare, have an excessive amount of experience pushing papers, it seemed like the job for me (i.e., not McDonalds). It's only 12 hours a week, so I'll need to find another small occupation, tutoring, perhaps, but at least now I'll be able to pay the rent. Huzzah! And that leads us to the sticky sticky issue, now, doesn't it. Animal research facility. Dudes, I do not like animal experimentation. It smacks of immorality and God-playing. It is icky. But what is ickier, to my mind, is people dying of horrible diseases needlessly. I exist because of animal experimentation - my mom is a diabetic. She was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes in her early teens. Just a few decades earlier, that would have been a death sentence. My sister is alive because a bunch of pigs gave up their lives so we could learn how to treat heart defects. I'm prone to respiratory infections - many of the drugs I'm reguarly prescribed were developed with animal research. It's a bad deal, but I look at it this way - should a few guys die, if they save thousands, even more as the lasting effects of their deaths echo through history? Maybe, huh? Okay, what if those couple of guys are actually lab mice? It's an almost unequivocal "yes" for me. Oh, there are circumstances. I mean, lab animals must be treated with the upmost respect, and not put through any unnecessary pain. And there are certain animals that I don't feel should be used unless there is no possible other way - animals that suffer greatly under confinement, like apes, monkeys, dogs. And I want research to continue on alternatives to researching on live animals, such as using cultured and cloned organ and tissue samples or computer simulations. But for now, I think, the research must continue. So I won't feel guilty pushing some papers around. - declared by Liusia @ 2:08 PM Sunday,
February 08, 2004
Alcohol = Taun-tauns Man, I do not want to write one of those ridiculous college-aged journal entries that goes something like "hur hur hur we gotz drunk this wkend and it wuz fun!!1!", but the fact of the matter is...we got drunk this weekend, and it was fun. Hur hur. For some damn reason, Saturday night Jess, Jessie, me, John and Liz were all sitting in my living room...doing homework, pretty much, except Jess, who has graduated, and was therefore eating my ice cream. It was disheartening. We're getting so old, man, we're like, in our twenties. I think John is 24, for God's sake. We're ancient. Fogies. (Sarcastic fogies, by the way. Of-friggin'-course 20-something isn't old.) Anyway, I was pretty much like, "Ah, Lenin's been dead for 80 years, he can damn well wait for me to read State and Revolution until tomorrow, I believe I shall partake in that other wonderful bastion of Russianness, vodka." (What I actually said was, "Christ, I need a drink," I think.) Anyway, because I am a friggin' trendsetter, the evening quickly degenerated into us playing idiot drinking cardgames like Egyptian Ratscrew and Asshole. Despite the five shots of horrible Candian whiskey (with beer chasers) John somehow mostly refrained, this time, from calling me a "scurvy mick," so I was not forced to bust out the one Irish phrase I actually know ("pyg mo thyn," kiss my ass), and the atmosphere of levity was maintained. Eventually, it came time to walk Jess home, as she lives a few blocks away, in her very own grown-up apartment. Picture, if you will, an unnervingly upper-class "planned community"-type set of apartment and condo complexes. That is our neighborhood. I'm still not sure how this happened -- frankly, I'd feel more at home in a trailer park -- but with five of us stuffed into our apartment, the fact that the complex is in the middle of nowhere, the special deal we got on the lease for looking pathetic, and the free parking, it's actually about a third cheaper than living on campus. Anyway, so, you're picturing this swanky neighborhood, right? Now, picture a bunch of sodden, motley college students running down the middle of the road, pretending to be taun-tauns, shoving one another into snowbanks, and dodging around building corners 007-style with pistols made of index fingers and thumbs. Now sodden both literally and metaphorically, Jess safely delivered, we returned home to play Mario Kart and make pizza. The pizza was significantly more sucessful than the Mario Kart, although between the two of us, Liz and I must have checked the stove about 12 times to make sure we'd turned it off. This is what happens when compulsive, uptight people drink. Screw this entry. Suffice it to say, Saturday was much for fun for me than it is for you to read about, so I'll stop here. I'll end with a little obnoxious moralizing: Area Youth Falls Prey to Narcissistic E-trend recommends that if you're going to drink, go ahead, but do so when you're happy, and do so in good company, and legal. Alcohol makes you stupid, but what kind of stupid is defined by the situation and your personality. It's much better to end up pretending to be a taun-taun than having to be talked down off a bridge. The end. - declared by Liusia @ 1:12 PM |
