Journal Entries

None... none whatsoever...

Posted Mar 23, 2002

I need desperately to update my journal, as I haven't done so in over a year, but I unfortunately have nothing to say, so I've decided to make the longest, most drawn out, poly-compound (is that a word?) sentence I possibly can, even though I have no good reason for doing it, and despite the fact that it's awkward as hell to read, but it at least gives me SOMETHING to make an entry about, which, as I said earlier, I desperately need to do, the current "most recent" journal entry being related to Douglas Adams' death, which happened over a year ago and really isn't news to anybody at this point (besides which, I needed to push it down in the list because it included a promise to add some REAL entries to the guide, a promise on which I have yet to deliver, and thus could not just leave at the top of the page, for all to see, bearing testimony to my failing on this point).

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Latest reply: Mar 23, 2002

Zeb is even LESS happy!

Posted May 13, 2001

Waaaaaaaaaah! Douglas Adams is dead! Why? Why?! He was 49. He should have had at LEAST two or three more good decades in store for him. Curse the demon spectre of heart disease! CURSE IT!!

In tribute to DA's memory, I may have to turn over a new leaf, ie: write some actual ENTRIES for the Guide, as opposed to just mucking about the community. USEFUL entries. Said entries will probably NOT be under my "Zeb" persona, however. It is far more likely that I will write them as "Emar"...http://www.bbc.co.uk/h2g2/guide/U139621

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Latest reply: May 13, 2001

I am a primordial killing machine...

Posted Apr 28, 2001

Yessir, folks; It's eat or be eaten in the natural world, kill or be killed. And I have just taken life in self-defense, right here, at this computer in fact. And I feel no remorse.

I was surfing the web, minding my own business, when suddenly I realized I was being stalked; that literally breathing down the back of my neck was one of nature's most deadly, bloodthirsty creatures. The deer tick. Before this savage arthropod could sink its feral mandibles into my jugular, my lightning reflexes took over. I snatched up the wriggling nightmare. My fingers fought for dominance over legs strong enough to lift many times the creature's own weight, and won. I was able to overpower the thing before slamming it to the ground (or surface of my computer desk, anyway). While it was down, stunned, the intelligence that served our ancestors so well on the prehistoric savanna came into play. I knew my soft, padded hands would be useless against the beast's armored plating, so I did something only a human, or possibly a chimp or finch, would know how to do. I brought a weapon to bear. Down came the ballpoint pen, again and again, not with panicked adrenaline, but with cold effeciency.

A foe capable of ending my life is reduced to cracked chitin and red, non-toxic ink by my own hand. So don't mess with me, folks...

Discuss this Journal entry [9]

Latest reply: Apr 28, 2001

I am a primordial killing machine...

Posted Apr 28, 2001

Yessir, folks; It's eat or be eaten in the natural world, kill or be killed. And I have just taken life in self-defense. Right here, sitting in front of this computer in fact. And I feel no remorse.

I was surfing the web, minding my own business, when suddenly I realized I was being stalked; that literally breathing down the back of my neck was one of nature's most deadly, bloodthirsty creatures. The deer tick. Before this savage arthropod could sink its feral mandibles into my jugular, my lightning reflexes took over. I snatched up the wriggling nightmare. My fingers fought for dominance over legs strong enough to lift many times the creature's own weight, before boldly slamming it upon it's back. While it was down, stunned, the intelligence that served our ancestors so well on the prehistoric savanna came into play. I knew my soft, padded hands would be useless against the beast's armored plating, so I did something only a human, or possibly a chimp or finch, would know how to do. I brought a weapon to bear. Down came the ballpoint pen, again and again, not with panicked adrenaline, but with cold effeciency.

A foe capable of ending my life is reduced to cracked chitin and red, non-toxic ink by my own hand. So don't mess with me, folks...

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Apr 28, 2001

How does one meet a potential girlfriend, thus turning their life into something other than the cesspit of lonliness it currently is?

Posted Mar 24, 2001

Yes, the title says it all. I go to a relatively small magnet school, which allows me to take some extra-curicular classes, expand my horzions, and most importantly avoid the straw-chewing, football-worshipping, nerd-beating, hard-drinking redneck high-school I'm currently zoned for. On the downside, with such a small student body, the dating opportunities at this alternative school are fairly slim. So I'm forced to look elsewhere.

This wouldn't be a problem if I had any skill at meeting people whatsoever. Unfortunately, I don't. Oh sure, I have social skills, but they only apply to casual friends. I can talk to girls at my school quite easily, but it never moves beyond the self-deprecating jokes and chit-chat I throw up as a shield. Besides, I can't say I feel any sort of emotional connection to those at my school. We know each other as friends, and nobody I know wants it to move beyond that. There's just no chemistry.

So I'm forced to look in the outside world, a place where I am totally hopeless. I go out to cafes and bookstores and the like, only to come home hours later having talked to no-one, and fighting the urge to literally beat my head against the wall out of frustration. I can't approach anyone.

It's a long, somber drive back home after each of these failed excursions. I have nothing to show for my spent time and money except maybe the memory of that cappuchino I bought just to have an excuse to sit at a table by myself. If I was feeling REALLY bold that day, maybe I've got new a CD, too. Ooh, impressive. You ever notice that when your driving in a really depressed sort of mood, it takes a certain effort of will to do commonplace things like braking or turning away from that oncoming cliff? It would be so easy to let the wheel go, wouldn't it?

I went to Paris and London over spring break, as part of this tour my art class signed up for. It was going to be great, with museums and 17th century palaces and great scenery. More importantly for ME though, it was going to be a chance to meet new people, to sit down at a sidewalk cafe and pray that you would soon find yourself at the beginning of some cliched movie relationship. Kinda hard to do, though, when you get led around on a metaphorical leash by the chaperones. And when you can't eat lunch alone. Oh, no, you have to hang out in groups, in the company of the bunches of idiots society refers to as your peers because they are roughly the same age as you (as stated before, there is no chemistry between myself and any of the females amongst said bunches of idiots). Yeah, safety in a foreign country is important. And I bet a psychologist would tell me that friends (previously reffered to as "idiots") are necessary for healthy development. But they also have killed my possibly nonexistent shots at contentment.

I hate being me.

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Latest reply: Mar 24, 2001


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Zeb (Viva Something-or-Other! And the Zaphodistas!)

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