Quick summary:
I'm a douche, my friend isn't, and I won a 'grand-prize' at an art show.

So. *cough* I'm not bragging. But. I won the grand prize with "Purpose" this Monday, at a little astrophysics art competition at Penn State. "But Dudy! You don't attend Penn State", and you're right! It was my roomie who printed it out for me and took it to the showing. And HE was the one who told me about it, and then egged me on to finish the artwork cuz he thought I'd win something... even then, I only entered because there were four prizes and only two other entries were placed and I was all "Oh yeah... no-skill wins are my style... since no-style wins take skill". It turned out there were 20 other entries. Astrophysicists like to carry decimals, I guess. And so he paid the 40 bucks for the print to be made. And this is after I forgot his birthday a week ago. And I had to borrow the money for his cake, which I sent him only a day ago, from my parents... since I gave my birthday money to someone else recently. For something else, which I feel I owe them.

So no. I'm not bragging. About how good at am at being lame. But I'm just that good. *bobs head*


The prize was small, so no biggie there. And of course, I blame God, who a) gave me the inspiration a week before my G-father passed away... and b) already knew the supermassive blackhole in that galaxy would give me the opportunity to enter the contest (which I had no idea about!), and lastly c) I'm pretty sure only God could have given me such an awesome friend as my old roomie at penn state... who still doesn't seem to be trying to avoid me (That said, he doesn't lie. Reminds me all the time how totally weird I am... which is strange, cuz when I tell him how black he is, it comes off as sounding racist. Wait... *cough* moving on). Actually, my other roomie... the Jewish one... he was awesome too, but he's all off designing auto-pilots for helicopters at Lockeed now. Which is probably a better relationship with benefits, as it stands. I mean, for one... neither of us were or are gay, and I couldn't navigate worth anything. And auto-pilots tend to not ramble either... though I'll totally make an auto-pilot one day that rambles, and it'll be for space ships.

*cough* anyways... that comment about rambling *gag* totally isn't *cough* a segue or anything *ahem*


Bon bon, if you're reading this... then you know who I'm talking about. Yes. He's practically my brother now. And I told him he's got two lifetime subscriptions of daily reflexology from me. And I think he's going to haggle me into including parafin baths and pedicures too . ( You have no idea how many lame, unmanly skills I now have attained... all in the pursuit of... of... I have no idea).


So there you have it.

OH! And I've decided to confess things. Not necessarily in that order.

Things to confess:
1) What was just said
2) I'm probably going to make Fyel's walk-cycle so overdone that there will be blood stains on my mouse. Or, if there were hypothetically already bloodstains on my mouse from proofing this journal to remove more condemning clauses about myself, there will be additional cakings of blood on my mouse



and now...

CHURROS! *flies into the poor, baked, mexican forms like a giant border policeman's orca on a Portuguese seal who forgot to check the second definition of visa, which was very different from a credit card... although both equally describe itemized forms of rapidly deflating 'trust' these days*


Yes... who would have thought that visas and Visa would ever come to hold so much in common. That's why economics is like booze in a *finally goes to sleep*

I cannot believe you actually read all of this journal. Wow.