Friday, June 13, 2008

Pants down for freedom! The United States is going old-school and not imprisoning people without a trial. Sort of. Most of us have at least agreed that we shouldn't.

Mr. President doesn't seem to care for it. If the government were Las Vegas, the man would have been branded a jinx long ago. Already, anything he opposes gains the virtue of not being supported by him. If he bets against a horse, I would bet on that horse to win. If he bets on a horse to win, I would bet on that horse to somehow cost the United States billions of dollars and thousands of American lives, which is worse.

I wish our President would quit gambling and just go back to drinking.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Werewolves cannot become zombies because it would be too awesome

I am a firm believer in Hru-doo, which is kind of like the Voodoo my older brother studies but firmly entrenched in science. Some time ago, I began a ritual to create a new being. My Hru-doo manual outlined the procedure. Relatively simple, as sci-thaumatics goes. It is technically a sacrifice, but I didn't have to make any ridiculous symbols or chant any magic words.

All I had to do was kill every monk seal in the world. Now that that's taken care of, I can claim my reward.

In hindsight, I should have specified what new being I wanted. Ah, well. At least I don't have to worry about those damn seals knocking over my trash cans. Still, I got myself pretty excited for a cybernetic monkey army.

One of my other esoteric studies, as of two days ago, is the Way of the Samurai. Technically I am a ronin, since I have no master. So far it's going okay. The Way of the Warrior touches upon a variety of aspects of daily life that might seem to have little to do with wildly swinging a sword around and shouting made-up Japanese (the cornerstone of my previous experience).

Cleanliness is important. Getting up early is important. Not losing my temper. Seeking improvement in all things, never protection. Be prepared for death; live as if already dead.

Which reminds me, when I die I need my brain destroyed so I don't come back as a zombie. And maybe shoot me with a silver bullet so I don't come back as a werewolf. Oh, and a stake through the heart so I don't become some weepy brooding vampire. Most importantly, bury me in a speedboat so I don't come back as a manatee.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Tee hee. Shunning my cell phone now makes me invisible in Europe as well as the US. Well, except for all the video surveillance, I mean. But I welcome video surveillance because I can bring back the old-tymey disguise kit.

No one ever suspects the organ-grinder.

I also hope to employ modern technologies. My buddy Scott has promised in a legally binding Facebook wall comment that he will build me one of those monkeys with brain-controlled robotic arms.

This is only a few steps away from my dream: to implant four robotic arms onto my body and then two, longer tentacles. I will then terrorize crime under the moniker "Graduate Student Squid".

Evildoers beware.