The magicest part is the fungus

Fungi are the best things ever. They really and truly are. for example: http://waynesword.palomar.edu/slime1.htm

learn about slime mold! admire the pictures!

someday, i shall wander through the forst with a camera, and poke about, and find lots of mushrooms and molds and fungi and moss.

Having finally doled out point for the contest, i figured i could update too. but it will be short. (yay! nay?) alrighty. so, fully ensnared in the grips of nostalgia after watching animaniacs and the bump in the night opening song, i have added some aqua songs, and am in the process of adding some blondie songs (although they have much less to do with my childhood). and if the songs are causing my blog to lag horribly for anyone else, sorry. i love them, and i'm keeping them. cept i think i'll begin to cycle through them, and get rid of the christmas ones after said holiday. which is sooo close.....yay!

LALALALAAAAA

i had a cool dream. i dreamt i was using heroin. and i totally knew how to do everything, and i was so suave with it, but i had, like, 5 times the amount of equipment i needed and i wasn't actually sure it was heroin. i don't think i ever got to the injecting myself, cause i kept fumbling around. and then i woke up, went back to sleep, and this time i shot up at least three times in the same amount of minutes, but nothing ever happened.
hey, in case you were wondering, the materials i used in my dream (or attempted to use) were cotton ball, spoon, lighter, shoelace, water, needle/syringe thing. and "heroin". (which may have been flour or icing sugar or baking soda. definetly not a rock.)
which leads me to belive i read too much. cause i definetly read about how to do heroin, and then i dreamed about it several months later.
speaking of scary things, there is this display in the atrium by the campus women's group, and it is the most psycho thing ever. i think it's supposed to be a tribute to battered women, or something. it consists of about 30 of these: take an overlarge piece of black paper. with chalk, like at a crime scene, draw the profile of a woman's head. then, proceed to liberally splatter the whole thing with dark red paint. the effect: very creepy. i don't know what point they are trying to shock into people. because the people who would be shocked wouldn't beat up a woman in the first place.
i am supposed to get christmas songs to put on here for hermy. i should get on that. hey, if people have song requests, i'll do my best to fill them.
a new contest for people, as has been demanded: describe a cure for poverty. can be ridiculous. will be "pointed" on grounds of logic, viability, verility (kidding) and political appeal.

Alrighty. It is three o'clock in the friggin' morning, and I have been lying in bed for over an hour. But my brain has decided it needs to have it's profound thoughts when I would much rather be sleeping. Thoughts like "if dirty means covered in dirt, then grubby is a very disturbing word." And now, this latest revelation apparently needs to be shared before I can get any sleep. Here it goes:

I am not happy. Generally, I am content. But I am not happy. this is because things annoy me. things like homophobia, and rape, and white supremacists. only when there is no more hate, no more rage, no more intolerance, fear, pain, or hunger, only when no-one is ever cold, or alone, or despairing, or sick, will i be happy. until there is just love, love, love and the world is full of it, can i be really and truly happy.

so guys, when you read this, i fully expect you to go "man, is alison sure sleep deprived and crazy." but i also expect you to go "but she is also right." people, and if, by some miracle, a stranger happens upon this, i mean you too, the next time someone is crying, talk to them. the next time someone needs a hand, carry their bags, or walk them across the street, or call a cab. pick up litter. buy fair trade coffee. volunteer. educate. Love with everything you've got, and i'll do the same.

you know that commercial, for the tv, with all the superballs? how they released 250 000 of them? well, i realized that that isn't even enough for everybody in san fransisco. at first, this depressed the heck outta me, but now, it gives me a whole lot of hope. if just one in four people picked up a bouncy ball in san fran, they'd be gone in no time. so if one in four people in the world chooses to make a difference, one in ten, one in a hundred, we'd still be gettin somewhere. somewhere better.

thanks fer listenin'. or readin'. whichever.

F is for Friends who do stuff together.

Alrighty. so i am extremely pleased at how large our little blog community is. in my head, anyway.
i also had something very profound to say, but now it's gone.
hey, you know those motion-detecting hostile-shredding sentry guns from Aliens? (suuure ya do). well, this fellow built one out of a bb gun, an old computer, a web cam, and some other stuff. here's a video of it, if you wanna check it out: http://cs-people.bu.edu/aaron/turret/small/short.mov

the link on my picture blurb, btw, is of a personal helicopter. not the Airscooter, some other japanese type. they cost about 31 000 and are apperently going to be released next year. or so i hear.

One last entertaining link: www.phoenixmasonry.org/masonicmuseum/demoulin/index.htm
Who knew it was such a big deal?

SO, being as i have no life, i spent my weekend on this blog (which i am unhealthily obsessed with), watching clips of stargate, an old 21 jump street episode, and doing marginal amounts of studying and extraordinary amounts of sleeping.

should each contest be closed after the next post goes up? i should give this consideration. but for now, i shall leave last post's contest open until further notice.

i have rediscovered my calculator. the respondents who, er, respond within 24 hrs will be given a number and a number will be randomly generated. the person whose assigned number gets picked will recieve 3 points, and the next two generated will get 1 each.

(as i really get into this contest thing.)(i need to get real good prizes.)

Alrighty, so i had a very uneventful day. i got up late, and am probably staying up late. and there are loads of things i should be doing, but aren't. so i hate myself. but hey, it's contest time! let's start with some light iq type thingies:

if a splokett is a wrench, and a wrench is a hooha, but a hooha is also a splokett, how insane is wulf?

All better now.

I have sobered up from my rage binge, and am all better. plus, mostly everybodies christams shopping is done. (i spent 60 dollars on posters.)(which makes me sound cheap and lazy)(which is okay, cause i am).

i was thinking about changing my picture blurb, but decided against it, because everyone needs to experience. (okay, maybe the rage isn't quite all gone. but at least it's not lethal anymore.)

plus, people need to admire my songs. yay, so swell. (an idea which i freely admit i stole. points if you guess who from.) hey, points! gives me a super grand idea. i shall make a side bar, and occasional contests, and people who leave comments with the best or correct answers arbitrarily get awarded points. and i'm sure there'll be prizes occasionally.

Bitchinest Day ever.

Oi had this huge ramble all planned out earlier, but now it's gone. i haven't forgot it, persay, it just seems particularily ridiculous now.

i keep having urges to censor myself. i'm not sure why. i feel like typing, so i am gonna type and ramble goddammit, and if you don't like it you can skip to the interesting parts, but WHOOPS, THERE AREN'T ANY!

my life is so boring. they should make me a saint, cause i've been martyred by it. or a knight, cause i ain't religious. but i'm not a man either, and i haven't exactly performed great services on behalf of britain. phooey. there goes that plan.

i wanted to go to sleep at five. but then i decided that was ridiculous. why i am so sleepy all the time? i generally get at least nine hours of sleep a night.

i have concluded that the people in university have the emotional maturity of 7 year olds with their first crushes. 7 year olds who curse like sailors. or truckdrivers. (sailors and truckdrivers curse because they are also emotionally immature and deprived of physical pleasures, which frustrates them sexually, which they repress and makes them stupider)

wow am i in a bad mood. there is a cloud of evil hovering around my head. i am freakin pissed, baby.

i really don't have anything against truckdrivers or sailors. i like sailing. (not so much truckdriving, but i can't please everybody)(especially right now. sod off, truckdrivers, if i've hurt your widdle feewings.)