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Messages - Cainad (dec.)

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July the Twenty-Second, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

Why do marshmallows come in such large packages compared to the graham crackers and chocolate bars? The marshmallows are probably the one thing I am least likely to consume on their own. I suspect some nefarious design behind this, but I do not know by whom or for what purpose.

The sixth and seventh s'mores flew by. I can hardly remember them even know, mere minutes after their consumption. This frightens me more than the gooey horror that were the third and fifth s'mores on previous days. Am I becoming acclimated to what I am doing? Does this make me stronger, or weaker?

I have moments of clarity, but only feeble ones in which I can but observe myself moving inexorably forward in time. The s'mores still await me for some horizons to come.

The local grocery store chain has put the ingredients for s'mores on sale for most of the summer. These items are usually placed right next to each other, so that your tiny consumer pea-brain will quickly put the puzzle together and realize that yes, you are an easily-manipulated glucose-burning protein engine and are conditioned to desire things rich in simple carbohydrates.

What I'm trying to say is that I live alone and I impulse-bought a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and a package of the sugary soft wax that most will recognize as Hershey's chocolate.

July the Twenty-Second, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

I do not believe that my landlord would approve of my lighting even a small bonfire in the backyard. Even if I did, it would only highlight the fact that I purchased these items without any plans to share them. (For those unfamiliar with s'mores, I should clarify that the items used to make them are only generally available in large packages and are traditionally consumed at summer gatherings).

I also do not wish to use the microwave oven, as that would require me to go downstairs and possibly interact with the other people in the house. They wouldn't understand.

No, they would understand all to well and think themselves superior for not succumbing to the same circumstances which ensnared me in the grocery store. In the absence of dignity, discretion will suffice.

I have elected to roast the marshmallows over a candle, using a fork.

I have eaten three s'mores this night. I can't recall what I actually had for dinner.

July the Twenty-Third, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

I have eaten another s'more upon getting home from work. There is a second marshmallow skewered on the fork, ready to be melted and applied to the other ingredients I have set out on the plate.

I suspect that the mere notion of having control over one's life may be the greatest of humankind's vanities. My fifth s'more in two days lies just on the edge of the Future, and I shall soon find myself reaching past that edge and tumbling into the Abyss of all meaning.

Damn, that REALLY sucks. I'm sure you all will be able to figure something out. I'm located on LI right now, so if there's something I can help with let me know.

Thanks for the congrats, everyone. Self-deprecation aside, it does feel pretty cool.

And I'm sorry to hear that, Suu. It's definitely weird realizing all your grandparents are gone; my maternal grandfather finally passed away yesterday.

Passed my first level Kung-Fu test yesterday, for white sash. I definitely need to stay on top of my cardio for the future, because I was getting the "heart trying to break out of ribcage" sensation long before my limbs got exhausted.

But far more interesting than my baby-tier test was the kid's tests, specifically the girls working toward their higher-level stuff. I'm not sure I've ever watched a person, much less a kid, work through that much exhaustion.

I quit RPing in Skyrim after I tried to put Mehrune's Razor on a display rack. It vanished, and I thought it was gone forever, until I turned around and saw it floating in midair pointing directly at my head.

This thread made me uncomfortable.


Probably the best approach would be to just go ahead and ban certain words.  :lulz:

That might be a good way to get everyone on board with a STRICT POLICY OF CONDUCT that will be adhered to and use of such words deemed improper would lead to an immediate ban from this board as well as permanent excommunication from The Discordian Society.

The fuck was that about?

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: My Girl Friday
« on: July 11, 2014, 07:31:44 pm »

More like base-ASS mathematics

Why Am I Still Alive?

Related to the more common, WAYSA?

I heard back from my advisor this morning, and I'm eligible to pursue my major under the new requirements.  :banana:

It says something about my school experience that my gut reaction is to advise you to check with three other advisors, sacrifice a goat on the dean's lawn, and hold the university president's pets hostage until you see a transcript, scribed on a tungsten plate, verifying that your credits are all in order.

But of course you already have that all taken care of. You're the last person I need to be advising about this.

This is so inept it's poetic.

I have been trying for two days to adequately express how I feel about what's going on ITT.

This is it, precisely.

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Oh, Oregon!
« on: July 09, 2014, 07:51:39 pm »

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