Umm...nasty.

My absence from school today was due to doctor's orders, because I've gotten Tonsillitis. Appearantly this is caused by strep throat bacteria which is why I can't swallow anything right now, and I got put on penicillin. Appearantly this is not contageous, unless I was misdiagnosed for another similar infection (but I wasn't! I hope.)

The initial problem is that my tonsils are already friggin huge. (If you go to the wiki link and look at the picture of tonsillitis, it's nowhere as...funky as mine.) I was floundering on the idea of a tonsilectomy since summer, since one parent is a supporter and one is a nay-sayer. I made my choice today by shining a flashlight into my mouth today and seeing what their size is. Usually smart tonsils have atrophized by now, but mine want to be special.

Delusional

Wikipedia still proves to be too cool.

Erotomania

Fregoli Delusion

Martha Mitchell Effect

Restless Legs Syndrome

Passion of the Tryst

The unclothed man you see was actually doing some serious RP-ing in the game. As in, role-playing the role of Mr. Honey-Tongued. He was using strange Victorian vocab and speaking style and putting the charm on the white dressed lady you see, who was obviously so amused she just had to play along. When she finally shook him off he too departed with a resounding, "Good bye, my sweet love."

Me plays the violin sadly.

BTW appearantly "tryst" is pronounced "trist", although it was a result for a rhyme of Christ. The internet fails me!

Sai Kick

Wow, silly projects.

So I recently found out the English ISP proposals were due this week, and so I decided to start finding books yesterday at 9pm. Luckily, something with a possibly workable theme came up so I wrote them down and snagged from the library today snazzy copies of Hunting Fear by Kay Hooper and Visions in Death by J.D. Robb. Reading the first chapters of both makes me more confident that they're both bearable books to read.

From what I can tell, Visions In Death is the rebel-with-no-real-cause-protagonist type book. I've named the protagonist, Lieutenant Eve, the Testostogen Lady, whom is the stereotypical: "Grrr me no like green dress hate being public with it want kill criminals now." Hunting Fear on the other hand is the intense gruesome crime story, with things like: "Her eye sockets pierced into my head, and from their pitch black centres a gharlish shadow dripped slowly and thickly down her face."

Also I was flipping to some random page near the end of Visions in Death to see how many pages it had, unaware it had a few pages at the end reserved for a preview of the next installment in the series. So the first thing I see on page 364 is:

"You and Mr. Speegal had a relationship. An intimate relationship."
"We fucked like rabbits all summer."

I demand the same calibre of writing in the real parts of the book.

Sooooo we'll see how they turn out.

He finds no door, only windows. Small windows.

School hurts real bad. University application pours salt all over open wounds.

I will not eat pickles for a long time. Not that I usually do anyway.

I really need to get going on my ISP proposal.

Only thing to look forward to is VGL in November.

Fair enough

That is the coolest thing ever, or also a typo of Kangaroo. Haha.

Courtesy of Laurier University's Viewbook.