Friday, April 29, 2005

Backstreet's Back, ALRIGHT!

Much to my dismay and nausea, the Backstreet Boys are coming out with a new album together and not as solos. It is supposed to be not as boy bandy, but I heard a clip and it is exactly what boy bands are today- reflective emo-whiney horseshit. I preferred the old boy bands personally because I could at least tap my foot and dance a little to them. Who knows, you may like it. I swear they are like herpes. You think you got rid of them, but then they come back, annoying as ever (the title of their new album is 'Never Gone').

Friday, April 22, 2005

Buckle-Up Beer

While searching for non-alcoholic punch recipes for a school function banquet, I came across an insurance page with recipes for non-alcoholic punches with names such as "No Crash Splach" and "Roadwise Suprise". Sounds like a happening party.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Is It Wrong

Is it wrong to feel very angry when you are laying in bed with a strong urge to vomit and two working girls, one of whom doesn't live there, are taking a dump in your bathroom?

Sad day, my piercer got fired for giving away a free piercing. Happy day, he's from Bowling Green KY and is opening up a shop there abouts. I hope to have pics of my on-going back project up soon.

Monday, April 18, 2005

CPU Music

Since the printer prints 27 pages of wingdings when I print a 9 page scientific journal article, I have resorted to saving all articles I find to a floppy for later viewing pleasure on my own computer. This is quite a lot of saving as I have found many articles on factors leading to the development of type-2 diabetes in obese mice. The floppy drive makes a lovely beat when I am saving. I believe I could write a song around it. Chh.dun.dun.dun.whir.dun.dun.dun.chh.dun.dun.dun...

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Just like on Office Space

I'd like to take a brief break from my studying and paper writing to write a poem to the stupid printer on the third floor of the AgScience building.

O, how productive I have been.
I have many papers I have written.
I many more yet still to write,
and the research is out of sight.
And yet you hinder me at every turn.
I'd like to see you explode and burn.
You eat my paper and cover me with ink.
I always feel a big urge to drink.
I try to de-jam you all day long,
but you won't un-jam out if one isn't strong.
I hate the way your stupid lights flash,
and how on my papers there is always an extraneous dash.
One day I will graduate, what do you think about that?
And when I do I will beat you with a ball bat.
I will throw you out a window you fucking ink filled bastard,
and go out afterwards and get absolutely plastered.