To be honest, I'm still impressed I know how to log in...

It's been a while since anyone has touched this hump of crap, and though it's probably for good reason, I'm back with a stick. I imagine someone should tend to this malformed newborn, and as is my counter-part is often away working. What free time he can manage, I highly doubt he would be willing to invest in this, whatever this may be.So with that, I say I am a stay-at-home mother of this hideous brainchild.

I suppose I have no one to blame but myself for being stuck at home tending to this. Between Will and myself, I am the unemployed fucker turning a habit out of recreational naps. I am almost certain he has forgotten that we even locked this lazy-eyed mutant in the cellar in the first place, so it's no surprise that I am the one mercifully (read: foolishly) bringing a metal tray of dog food to the bottom of the basement stairs.

Regardless, like any good stay-at-home mom, I have my complaints. It's your father's turn to feed you. I'm tired of listening to you shiver and drag your disheveled, withered body across the stone floor of our basement to get to your food. I'm tired of not being able to even see because of the pathetic, single light bulb dangling from its own cord. You freak me the fuck out. Your father can huck a bag of dog food down those rotting steps if he wants you to scrape by an imprisoned life for a few more months. It's his turn! I'm going to go to the parlor with the girls!

"And so then I told that lazy man that if he wants to keep the miserable little monster alive, he should at least change the fucking light down there! I mean, it's sooo scary going down with a dish of shitty food in one hand, and my daughter's puppy flashlight that barks everytime you turn it on! I don't know what's more pathetic, the light bulb from the ceiling, or the one in that toy flashlight. I swear, Becky, I scream everytime I see that critter we keep down there curled up in his corner. It's just freaky how the light reflects in his eyes like that, ya know?  -That's good, Becky. Maybe a little longer in this bangs this time. - Anyway, I'm just tired of being the only one to take care of that...thing. It's so sad, you know? I think it tries to play when I go down, but it's so thin it just gives me the creeps. Besides, somebody needs to keep a closer watch on it. I think it's laying eggs, and I'm not sure if just rolling down a few raid bombs down the stairs took care of it's lice and mites. Aaah...But that's life, you know? How's Jason been treating you? He still asking for anal all the time?"

...

-Sean

Concerning the Effective Use of Resources...

The efficiency of our capacity to harvest our resources is consistently propped by the crutch of technological advancement. On a constant basis, the resources available to harvest are decreasing, and our singular capacity to see growth in resource development is in our ability to implement new techniques in order to access resources which were otherwise in-accessible, or too costly to gather.

Taking the United States as an example - oil production began, grew, and peaked in the early '70's. At that point, technological ingenuity and industrial capacity saw it's high water mark before being dragged back down by the simple fact that resources are limited. Oil is as limited a resource as any!

That is why I must propose that the global populace must adopt an unfaltering extremist approach to efficiency. No longer can time, effort, and materials be wasted on petty things.

Further, no longer can we let any singular resource slip through our hands, wasted. All must be used, and used to its absolute fullest. That is why I propose the following : We must cannibalize.

For years the thought of a zombie apocalypse has frightened and tickled imaginations. No one could have thought of the zombie apocalypse of which I now speak. We will not be running from the hungry undead. We shall consume them.

In the future, when food is difficult to find, and the majority of the population has been vanquished by hunger, disease, and war, we shall find salvation and full stomachs in the fallen. Let not the corpses of your loved ones go to waste. Be as carrion birds, and pluck from their sockets their swollen eyes to chew while you tread that dangerous, wind-swept road. Gasoline will not save you here, in this post apocalyptic future. The best survivors are the survivors who know an opportunity when they see one. I see one, and I tell you it is in the succulent and fatty fingers of our children. Breed, and breed them as cattle to be butchered either by war or by the biting teeth of the starved.

Store them, if you will, but be wary. Keeping children as we have kept cattle, in small stock-yards where they are poorly exercised and poorly fed will only produce poor quality meat. The best tasting and healthiest flesh has, and will always be derived from range fed species. Let the children run and play as they always have, and when they least suspect to be harvested, do so.

Take a lesson from the predators and scavengers that have survived for so long. Should a loved one fall ill, let not the disease spread to the rest of the stock, ruining a generation's harvest. Butcher the lame, the weak, and the slow. They will only tie you down to tasks outside of your personal survival.

In love, be as the spider. When sufficiently fertilized, kill and consume your male, so that while you nurture your young, you are well nourished. Then, when they are grown, either consume them for strength, or suffer your fate to be consumed by them.

Let us not forget, this world is no safer, nor is it any friendlier just because we may delude ourselves with such falsities. This is a dog-eat-dog-eat-human sort of world, and the seeds have already been sown. Look to your future - mate relentlessly, and consume your offspring.

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Also,

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-Sean


ps- I'm out of sunflower seeds, and that really bothers me.

This shit again?!?

I should probably be posting something with a beat more meat on its bones...but I'm not.

-sean

A change of minor...

I may be quite alone in grasping this one, but regardless I was amused. Philosophy seems to be my theme for the day, as it began by me official changing my minor from education to philosophy. Anyways, maybe posting this will give me good luck for my philosophy exam I'm taking in 20 minutes. *crosses fingers* lol.

-sean

My elevator is broke-dick...

I'm not entirely sure about building codes or laws involving residential buildings with so many stories...but I do know that if some fucker on the 8th floor of my building were to sustain some sort of injury or medical emergency EMT personnel would have one hard fucking time hiking their ass down to the ground floor when our elevators spend as much time broken and malfunctioning as they do working.

I just got back from my class, and both elevators are broke-dick. They are currently sitting on the first floor, doors wide open, all the buttons pressed. I'm tempted to just stab a motherfucker on my floor to prove a point. By the time those poor EMT's and other emergency response personnel got their asses and their gear up here they'd need their own EMT's to carry their exhausted asses down. It's one thing to dismiss broken elevators in cases of emergencies because they may be compromised. Earthquakes. Fire. etc. It's an entirely other situation when the elevators may actually serve an important role in a quick response.

I was actually just coming back to my room to grab a book before heading off to class...now I don't know if I actually want to even go. Hell, I guess I'll just grab my shit and meander back down the stairs in lackadaisical fashion to a class that teaches me jack-dick.

Fuck the elevators.
Fuck that class.
Fuck this. I'm out.

-sean

Mr. Joseph Ducreux

I think this is a little more well known Sean, them youngsters might be able to relate some event in pop culture to this. Yet somehow I think me and you are the only ones that'll get true pleasure from these.

-Will

PS: The Anne Frank of boners...wait, thats not right.

Bowflex

I added up another poll. I just read an article on it this morning, and had a good laugh. I probably should take it more seriously, but I can't take anything Steven Seagal does seriously.

And on a completely different note, I've found my favorite internet meme of all time. Wasteful Wombat!
Joseph Ducreux is pretty awesome too.

I know at least that Will will appreciate that Joseph Ducreux. "Old people burning! Old people burning! Put your hands up!"

-sean


ps: Wait, no...that just makes me sound racist.

If he's not the poet, I'm not sure who else posts here...

The poem was amazing, a true work of art
Every line grows, striking at the heart
Heavy your heart seems to be of late
The answer of why, I know it to be cruel fate.

Alone you will not be, upon this road you travel
Adventures renewed we shall drudge along the gravel
'Til at long last we find a peaceful stopping ground
Next we find a wall, on which our heads we pound

Our quarters be built, so near
That dew out of reach, is never a fear
Game we shall until the day, if luck be with us
That a lass for each happens to fall off the bus.


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Sorry Sean, I didn't want to poke fun at your poem (was really good btw) but you know me, couldn't help but throw this out there. I had to rummage through my things to get my log in info and the web address. Next time I'm home I'll see if there are any good poems I have, lying in that dusty high school binder. Oh and before I forget, Video = Awesome.


-Will

PS: Sean, I do believe we need a new poll, got any ideas?

Space Invaders

I added space invaders. It's not so much for other people's enjoyment as much as it is for mine. I contemplated adding the virtual stripper, the one which will follow whatever command you give her, so long as her daddy-issues don't leave her confused. Unfortunately, the bitch didn't know what a sandwich was, or how to make one...med-school my ass.

-sean

ps- if you are wondering where it is...scroll down.

Redemption, or something like it....

There are some pretty grotesque things out on the web. Shocks sites. Meat spin. 2G1C. Goatse. Tubgirl. You name it, I'm sure it's out there. Sometimes, though, the internet does something great to redeem itself. This is not one of those moments...but it's close.



-Sean

Also, Will needs to fix his fucking HD. That is all.

I am not the poet.

It's difficult to determine in exactly what format I should attempt to post here, particularly when my initial post was an establishment that there will be no consistent form, let alone function. What should I address? How should I address it? To whom will I be addressing? Should I make practical assumptions, or realistic ones? What is most appropriate? Should I speak with a certain journalistic or academic sterility, or fucking swear like I actually do? Its a bit of a bitch to lay so level and vague of a foundation, only to step back and realize its so plane (hah!), it doesn't offer a damn thing to grab onto.

With the fullest acknowledgments that I am not the poet of the pair, perhaps it may be the most endearing for me to risk it. To take and chisel an imperfection.

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Left to rot on that there cot lies a man that I once knew
His beard now thick as he lay sick while stricken with the flu
His hopes are dim and chances slim for all the medicine we've got
For though once strong his life's been long and now all for naught

With troubled breath before soon death he lay and dreamt alone
Of a time when young and what he'd done when the sun still shone
A soldier in youth when short in tooth he did what he'd regret
And now when old a heart less bold beats weakly for him yet

For as he waits to see the gates of Heaven close so firm
He holds to fears of lesser years and his consequential term
To Hell he's doomed as ever's loomed the queerness of his fate
For the bitter pay of war's day would not delay nor wait

And now he'll die too weak to cry too weak to even move
His body lean with time so mean a point of sin to prove
The price to pay of those cruel days of rifle and of shot
His mercy then what God's is when death is all he's got

Farewell good friend I knew you when you were more than just your bones
I'll know you still when Hell I fill with the presence of my own
For though you've sinned I knew you then and evil you were not
Twas just cruel hate that sealed your fate when hate was all you've got

So while you die to God I lie about your mislead deeds
Of commanding men way back when when we were only kids
For though we were cruel it was the rule of those horrid days
To survive it then way back when required wicked ways

So fear death not for what Heaven's got for though it's closed to us
We've lived through Hell and that's just as well for that's what awaits us

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And now I have posted something that isn't a cheap gag, not that all gags are cheap. Make of it what you will. I'm bored, too few on movies, too alone to chat, and too pent up not to write something.

ps: I don't really proof-read. So as per my usual, if you have spotted an error...fuck you. =p


-Sean

A solution

I have found an infinitely more cost effective means of attaining the same level of achievement which is sought at the university level. It took me approximately 5 minutes of time using nothing but Google. I did most of it one handed, and I am quite confident that had I been absolutely trashed, on fire, and being horribly mauled by a badger I could have still located it. It's cheaper, and when it comes down to the business of it, this is really what you are after.

Thank god there is a social aspect to college. I'd have hidden myself in my own mattress until I had starved to death and left evidence of my departure not only in the raucous smell which would permeate everything in the building for at least a year, but also the great maggoty mucus stain in the room which would be my final essence.

The Solution!

Thank me later. I'm busy placing an order.
-Sean

And so it has

I wish I had a rickity-raft, but nooo the college ripped me off for that too. It seems like all colleges are for anymore is, not for higher levels of education but to penalize those that struggle to find something they enjoy doing or at the very least could tolerate doing for the next thirty plus years of their life. I honestly don't know what I'd have done if I'd have chosen a college in the lower forty-eight, I'm already forty thousand-ish dollars in debt and I still have yet to find a career path that bring out the ambition and drive to excel at it. Every semester that passes it seems like all I'm doing is wasting my time taking classes that won't help me in a real world situation, all the while piling on the debt. In all seriousness, I've been in college for three years now and feel like I learned/did more during High School, it's ridiculous. If you disagree you're either a communist or you work for these soul siphoning organizations.

-Will

This has to start somewhere...

Ah, a place to "publish" the random generated thoughts and ideas of university students hellbent on...something, I'm sure. Anyway, the page is looking rather sparse, but hopefully in time (and with the boredom of spring break) this place will start filling out with ramblings, rants, poetry, art, comments, compliments, insults, jokes, tales, nursery rhymes, anecdotes, and maybe even something subtly profound.

This is a joint venture, so do not expect the greatest of consistency, nor agreement, or much of anything I suppose. It may die. Hopefully, given the copious amounts of free time available to a uni-student, it survives for at least a respectable period of time. With that, I send this rickity-raft along its merry way on this river we dub Life!

-Sean