lie detector test:
2005-08-26 - 11:47 p.m.
...if you're innocent, it may incriminate you. if you're not, it's not going to set you free.
i'm fairly sure im being poisoned. i bought what i thought were Ranch(TM)Pringles(TM) from the mobile station near my work, and they're a little...different. they smell like vinegar and have an aftertaste of ground beef, which, i note, is indistinguishable from the taste of small kidnapped ground children. which reminds me that there are several G-rated television shows airing these days for which the main plot is all about captured, stolen, missing, unfound or otherwise_not_where_they_should_be children. hopefully its just another phase the media watchers are going through. but this leaves me thinking, what is going on in the minds of the younger actors/actresses of these shows? will they grow up with an oedipus_style_complex of being captured, trying to reclaim their childhod memories as present experiences? will they learn about sadomasocism as part of the role of their character? or are they really children kidnapped by the Pringles(TM) corporation, forced to act as kidnap victims on national television [so that if they were to tell the cops, the cops would think that they had somehow gotten the television show and real life situations mixed up] for a couple episodes, before they're ground up and added as a secret ingredient to the new Ranch(TM) chips? even the pakage is different. the pringles dude is winking, and holding an ominous sort of kitchen utensil. do not buy these chips. i repeat, do not eat the liver of polar bears...save yourself...its too late for me...ive already popped...and now i cant stop...Tip#356: there is a reason why there is a floatation device in my car. a damned good reason.dream of running for president, part 2. so last year sometime i had a dream in which several students were running for the president position of their high school student senate. i remember it so vividly that it very well might have been a movie i watched at the NOCC while i was half-alseep. its a huge high school so that competition for this position is really feirce and actually quite poriftable. i think i remember some rule where you only had to spend 5% of the total funds on your speech agenda but i'm note sure (and anyway thats more than 0% for presidents of the united states). So anyway last year the last three people to go (and it seems to me they were all juniors at that point) were the most popular couple at the high school who had made it their lives to be popular, competing against one another, and that kid at every high school who is singled out as the kid you have to hate because he's the most weird. so the_weird_kid gets up, and says "hey, lets all be serrious, none of you are going to vote for me so instead of doing a speech i prepared this dance.". and thus he starts to dance. the mob looks at itself until it decides that the cool thing is to boo and throw things at him until he leaves the stage, which they do, and he does. then the popular_chick gets up, and says a bit about some animal rights organization (maybe PETA) that she wants to help. from the opposite side of the stage comes an animal care specialist and a wounded animal of some sort, i think it was a small dog. she works herself into tears and the crowd starts to follow, slowly. popular_hunk didn't really have a speech prepared but comes off with some bullshit improv about true love and honesty which really is more of a publicity stunt to ensure he and his girlfriend place as prince and princess(respectively) of that years prom. jump ahead to the dream i just had. it fades in durring a particularly borring speech from a transfer student whose father is a head_honcho_dentist. he's offering free toothbrushes, toothpaste, and floss to each student at the high school, in addition to one nearly free check up. its a kid-sized dental plan of mass proportions, and is pretty well planned. the kicker is that for that its not entirely free; his father would offer a reduced price for high school students (low enough so that the other dental practices in town would be starved out) and after the health plans of each and every student was applied, there would still be a tiny portion of funds to be accounted for, resulting in a hidden raise in activites fee halfway through the year when he would have pretended to be suprised because his plan was based on the assumption that everyone had health insurance that would cover it. near the end of this speech, popular_hunk reaches over and touches the cheek of popular_chick, and straightens out the star-flower on the choker he gave her last week. he realizes then that he's really starting to fall into the trap, really falling for the girl when he was only supposed to be pretending to. he asks her what her speach is on this year, sure that they've lost this round becasue their competitor is actually offing something to the student body. she responds that this year she's going for the starving_kids_in_africa routine. the_weird_kid gets up and does the same speech as last year, different music. this time, the mob has just been bored to the point of extreme boredom, and really gets into it before they realize that the_weird_kid is the speaker. theres a standing wave and everyone's dancing and singing along to the lyrics "count...1...2...10" that just basically repeat. end dream.last night i was doing some reading for my CCNA course and was disturbed by a wasp burr-burring in the kitchen. don't get me wrong, i get along with most ugly size T animals, but wasps (and vicariously, killer bees) have been an enemy of mine since childhood. each year, we would fight it out for possession of my poorly insulated room. some years i won and was permitted to hold the fort for another year, waiting for the return of the junebugs (which at the time, i called nyhms or nyhmphs) that signaled the war had begun anew. though i was never stung, it is entirely possible that i am allergic to their sting, and so i cannot give my enemies the slightest chance to strike first. on too many occasions have i woken up with a wasp sitting on my windowsil, two inches from my nose [after the first war i learned to place my bed in the center of the room]. on several occassions i have had to remain calm while my adversary gained footholds on my arms or face. even years later, the flashbacks of those battles, from the sound of their wings will haunt me terribly if try to go to sleep. for one hour, i stood near motionless in my kitchen, waiting for him to take the bait; a puddle of warm, flat coke. eventually he did land long enough to provide me with an opportunity to attack, but he dodged and zipped by the edge of the chinese food container as i slammed it down. we both went instantly to our defense modes, with him darting back and forth at me in an attempt to chase me off, and i slowly withdrew into the hallway. thinking that he had time to hide, the drone fighter flew into a tunnel in the frigerator door gasket to wait me out again. with lightning speed, i brought down my Oven_Mit_of_Bogadan, +1 versus wasps, and cleanly removed my enemys head. i was so amazed at this manuver that i was making ninja_noises for the next half hour.tip#347: everyone is capable of singing country. no one should.dream. the black rat. third person, about a young irish girl who isnt so young anymore. it starts with a voiceover as she is describing a dream to someone. i have forogtten all the dialogue, but in her dream she is a little girl, and a squirrel crawls in the window while she sleeps. it has something in its mouth, a small rat with its head bitten off. the squirrel is a stark contrast to the rat, ethereal and almost cartoony. of the rodent, not much is seen, except that it is small and headless. this scene repeats, and im not sure if it repeats becasue i woke up and went back to sleep or becasue the squirrel was dropping off two dead rodents. at any rate, the squirrel leaves and the dead rodent(s) start runing around on the floor. at some point, there are two rats, one brown and one black. the black rat has a pair of very long incisors, also black, and by the looks of its hair it has been covered in oil and dead for some time. the eyes are also black, visible only because of the white part of the eyes. the woman talks to the psychiatrist, and they argue about the significance of the symbols in the dream. she is used to pschiatrists by this time, she's seen enough of them to know their lingo, and to know what they are insuinuating, the direction they are thinking, when they want you to answer a question. the psychiatrist suggests that she try to replace the rodents in the dream with other symbols. for example, a turtle and a feather (trying to find out if it is a pair of male/female symbols). this she does, with marginal success, and through a process of trial and error they get a good idea of what the symbols in the dream represent, which is of course, that they represent two fighting rats. the brown one, less defined, means her struggles as a person, and vicariously, her. the black rat also represents a person, male. the dream continues then for a while longer, mostly as she (the girl) tries both to fight off the black rat, and run from it. the woman goes home for the day, and in her bathroom mirror she sees the black rat. then she is talking to the psychiatrist again, about how she (the girl) was going to take a picture of it, and then she just tried to grab it with her hands. how it wriggled and bit and clawed, as it tried to pull her into the mirror. her hands are bandaged, the shards of glass having been removed. after a serries of these sessions she starts having other dreams, again of her as a girl. in some place that could only be a city in the UK, there is a party, something like the New Orleans MatiGras. it gets out of control with rape and violence. she is wearing a black and white stripped shirt and lying on a car with a goon between her legs. he's wearing leather and one of those token touh guy hats that looks like a leather berret that one often sees at sexpistol concerts (which might have been the reason for the party). the goon on her left has white powdered makup on and a hat that looks something like a new generation of boller cap. he and the goon on the right (unseen) make snide remarks about her while she is raped. a cop comes along, knocking down goons left and right, insisting that people head home immedietly. when he gets to her he stops in a moment of shock, and the crowd takes this opportunity to tackle him and inject him with something (morphine?). his facial expression changes from stone cold to absolutely pshychotic, and he yells into the crowd something like 'yea, lets do it!', so that it is clear that he's switched sides. End Dream. still no sign of a black rat, though i'm sure this was only the first in a series of the woman's flashbacks, and its a dream i would rather not return to.my laptop (toshiba A70) went into bluescreen mode and died. after talking to the toshiba service people, i was informed that i needed to take it to a local certified fix-it place in order to keep the warantee, and that there is only one which is within 100 mile radius of my house. so began the quest to Atec Group. i made sure to read the fine print, a newly learned skill from my experience with Toyota. the fine print included such comments as "if the product is under repairs or not picked up after 60 days or recieving it, we have the right to sell it [aka: its ours now]", and "if there is dust in the product and that is the only hardware problem, an additional fee of 70$ will apply". fortunately for me, the issue was much worse. after 17 days of calling them up every day to see if they were going to start on it, they informed me that they needed to replace the motherboard. after another 3 days, they informed me that they needed to replace the processor, since it still wasnt working properly. all in all, it was 22 days before i saw my laptop again. i used it for another 6 days before it returned to their work bench, for a similar if not identical problem (again, blue screen of death followed by improper boot). this time, they repartitioned my hard drive and gave it back to me the next day. alas, the day when car mechanics only worked on cars, that day is over.Related Sidenote: when in doubt, you know less than you do. if so, when not in doubt, do you know more? if not, the phrase should be shortened to 'you know less than you do'.i was driving around in massachusetts, trying to find out if my license had been suspended yet for that fine that i payed for, but evidently not in time, and for the fees that i payed for the first fees being late that i also payed, but which also might have arrived late (thus incurring exponentially higher more fees), when i figured out that bulletproof cars do not have bulletproof paint. i was driving through an empty gas station doing a U-turn at 15 kph, and tryig to sqeeze into a ATM-sized slot between the curb and the pump, when i brushed the back driverside wheelwell with one of the pump guards. no explosions, though i did get a look of shock_and_confusion from one of the cashiers, smoking a cigarette out front.not long ago, the word 'intent' was defined by learned men in such a fashion that it could be easily attributable to not only living and dead beings, but innanimate ones. the classic example was the lock and key. the lock had the intent to stay locked until the intent of the key changed it, as it was the intent for keys to change the intent of locks, whereupon it would have the intent to open. rocks had an intent to return to the ground when thrown, trees and plants had the intent to grow toward the sun, and people had the intent to unobjectively observe intnet. from this premise, it was a logical conclusion that if a lock was broken, it meant that it had a wrong or different intent than was excepted of a lock, or an inappropraite intent for its purpose. this so-called mal-intent was the precursor of the theory of vundun. the idea that an object with malintent may, through contact or contagion, produce malintnent in another object. -Nemo, "Sorcerers Inkorporated".
