As an avid fan of the discovery channel and a viewer of at least 4000 documentaries on the sex life of bugs, bats, and wildebeast....I've got to say, this is soo fucking cool. I am bedazzled by nature's wonders. Thank you RL for bringing the vampiric sexual practices of deep sea angler fishes to my attention.
Besides working way too many long hours recently, trying to "review" (aka screw over) the Army and Navy and find source documentation for the word "actual," I've been dreaming about my upcoming trip to San Diego and LA. Although I've managed to stay in post iron curtain Budapest for 2 weeks, in all my 27 years, I've never once visited either of these very awesome and overpopulated cities. The sibs will keep me on track with the tourist bits, and I'm looking forward to checking out the zoo (pandas, polar bears, and apes, oh my!!!), but any suggestions out there for other cool and/or hilarious fun?
If Munkeigh were with me, and not the conserva-twins, I would surely track down my strange little man and challenge him to a foosball game...
3.23.2004
3.22.2004
Thank you Mr. Coffee for never letting me ever again have a normal sleep schedule.
I remember how I used to like just the smell of coffee. With lots of sugar and cream it all became liquid hot ice cream coffee goodness. Then came the Irish coffee and the long nights hanging out at Meridian with Heathen, Special Sauce, Jim, and Ducky (I'm sorry..."Dave"...) writing really insipid poetry on the walls with black marker. And then, 10pm sugarspressos with the ultimate frisbee guys to keep up with the games and late night grocery shopping. Now the fun new coffee grinder, super toasty roast, and grande buonissima macchina pull at my insides to make a tasty few cups at midnight. Oye. Damn addictions.
Anywho, since I'm up, let me rant about something that's been bugging me like a repeated sharp jab in the eye. Someone please explain 311 to me. Why do they suck so much? Is it the stupid amber song? Is it the fucking joke of "reggae/funk/alternative/pop/rock/rap/metal" crap that they spout? Oh, no. Sure, they suck because of these reasons, but they didn't hit the earbleed level of suck until they 1) redid the Cure's Lovesong 2) with a bad imitation of a trippingly happy Robert Smith (this isn't Love Cats, people!) 3) sold it to the media moguls of "let's create a romantic movie with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler AGAIN" and last but not least 4) convinced indiscriminate (aka deaf) radio listeners to request it because they just love that song. ARGH.
I know that covers are a dangerous thing...
- They could be exactly the same as the original--making them nostalgic or lame (It's My Life - No Doubt, Boys of Summer - The Ataris);
- They could be done in the style of the new band--making them refreshing or an afront (Hurt - Johnny Cash, Landslide - Dixie Chicks); or
- They could be mixed into another new song--making them a rap song (take your pick).
Your best bet is to choose one of the three styles and go full force. That's where 311 shows their suckage. They try to mold their pothead dippiness into the depressing earnestness of Smith's style, copying every inflection of the original vocals, but to a melting waxy bop that is full frontal 311 bad.
That's it, Tori version (purrfectly excellent) to the rescue, 15 times daily to wash out the ears, and to rediscover the meaning of good covers.
I remember how I used to like just the smell of coffee. With lots of sugar and cream it all became liquid hot ice cream coffee goodness. Then came the Irish coffee and the long nights hanging out at Meridian with Heathen, Special Sauce, Jim, and Ducky (I'm sorry..."Dave"...) writing really insipid poetry on the walls with black marker. And then, 10pm sugarspressos with the ultimate frisbee guys to keep up with the games and late night grocery shopping. Now the fun new coffee grinder, super toasty roast, and grande buonissima macchina pull at my insides to make a tasty few cups at midnight. Oye. Damn addictions.
Anywho, since I'm up, let me rant about something that's been bugging me like a repeated sharp jab in the eye. Someone please explain 311 to me. Why do they suck so much? Is it the stupid amber song? Is it the fucking joke of "reggae/funk/alternative/pop/rock/rap/metal" crap that they spout? Oh, no. Sure, they suck because of these reasons, but they didn't hit the earbleed level of suck until they 1) redid the Cure's Lovesong 2) with a bad imitation of a trippingly happy Robert Smith (this isn't Love Cats, people!) 3) sold it to the media moguls of "let's create a romantic movie with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler AGAIN" and last but not least 4) convinced indiscriminate (aka deaf) radio listeners to request it because they just love that song. ARGH.
I know that covers are a dangerous thing...
- They could be exactly the same as the original--making them nostalgic or lame (It's My Life - No Doubt, Boys of Summer - The Ataris);
- They could be done in the style of the new band--making them refreshing or an afront (Hurt - Johnny Cash, Landslide - Dixie Chicks); or
- They could be mixed into another new song--making them a rap song (take your pick).
Your best bet is to choose one of the three styles and go full force. That's where 311 shows their suckage. They try to mold their pothead dippiness into the depressing earnestness of Smith's style, copying every inflection of the original vocals, but to a melting waxy bop that is full frontal 311 bad.
That's it, Tori version (purrfectly excellent) to the rescue, 15 times daily to wash out the ears, and to rediscover the meaning of good covers.
3.21.2004
Tag game. My ass.
Mr. Cheese, or is it Tao do Queijo, I truly appreciate you even paying attention to this blog. As I don't want to turn away my loyal readers with my pet peeve of chain letters, forwards, and the like, I will play...my way.
Queijo Rei, eu etiquetei este blog. I've now passed on the funness of your game to the Portuguese world.
Mr. Cheese, or is it Tao do Queijo, I truly appreciate you even paying attention to this blog. As I don't want to turn away my loyal readers with my pet peeve of chain letters, forwards, and the like, I will play...my way.
Queijo Rei, eu etiquetei este blog. I've now passed on the funness of your game to the Portuguese world.
3.20.2004
Just when I thought I was getting more serious....the highlight of my evening was to have my ass squeezed by a cute (albeit very drunk, possibly high, and spitting) art teacher. Oh yeah. Need new forms of entertainment.
So now, I've hit munkeigh heaven--radiohead blaring, ben affleck lusting. I say, goddamn.
So now, I've hit munkeigh heaven--radiohead blaring, ben affleck lusting. I say, goddamn.
3.18.2004
so strange
woke up to a world
that I am not a part
except when I can play its stranger
Sometimes I wonder what happened to my insatiable interest in arguing all the ins and outs of current events and the philosophical repercussions. It used to be fun finding the truth, twisting around the logic, and formulating theories at 3am.
But I went down the wrong path---I went to law school. Now, as much as lawyers get stupid jokes thrown at them and most really are gross specimens of human, the law profession is not inherently terrible. It's supposed to be profound, defending the right, helping the helpless (great now I sound like Doyle)....but law school is completely different. If you revel in finding the truth, discussing and criticizing other viewpoints, law school is not your calling. However, if you love to tear up people's egos, feed off the blood of the weak, blow up your already oversized ego, and hear yourself talk loud and long....law school is the place for you. Lawyers are trained to be the scumsucking assholes they are through pure survival. Kinda like bootcamp for the mind and ego. They will break you down just to build you back up into the strong nasty lawyer you never thought you could be.
Law school is full of those like I was back then--argumentative, articulate, and passionate about all things that affect everyone. Then the competition and fear settles in, and all sense of fairness and agape are swallowed up by a cloud of compulsive cigarette smoke. Everything you say is wrong or maybe a little right, but basically wrong. The classmate you think is your friend will kick you to the curb to get into law review. Classes are vocal WWF matches where the biggest, loudest, and most annoying triumph. Getting a job for $100,000 is peanuts. How can you pay for that new H2 with that?
Luckily, some graduates can go on to be stronger, louder, and more sure that if they insist long enough, they will be right. They, after all, have picked up lots of great offensive and defensive ploys that speed them right through a layman's argument---such as pointing out "logical fallacies," biased sources of fact, and, inter alia, lots of supercilious application of obscure and archaic terminology. They've also picked up drinking habits and a complete disregard for anyone that doesn't benefit them. Others, like me, are still fighting the law school training, avoiding long drawn out debates and distracting ourselves with creative blissful ignorance. But basically unhappy because we once loved intelligent discussion, but like a beaten puppy, now flinch and dodge once it gets ugly.
Anyway, the point behind this tirade is that I was wondering where my passion for the world went. It got buried by a jaded point of view way too early. No wonder most good lawyers are old and the eye-gougingly annoying young whippersnappers are just that. And yet, I still feel very guilty that I haven't gotten my license and received the badge of super-jaded but rich. So, here's the plan:
--I will get that damn license. And then figure out if I want to become that hard-nosed DA I wanted to be and be really scary, or use my knowledge to help out those that can't help themselves (our president excluded), or continue as I am, happy that I finally got to beat that bitch down.
--REinterest myself in what's going on and fight the law school training to avoid arguments altogether or chew people out in fits of competitive righteousness.
--Ignore the guilt if none of this works.
woke up to a world
that I am not a part
except when I can play its stranger
Sometimes I wonder what happened to my insatiable interest in arguing all the ins and outs of current events and the philosophical repercussions. It used to be fun finding the truth, twisting around the logic, and formulating theories at 3am.
But I went down the wrong path---I went to law school. Now, as much as lawyers get stupid jokes thrown at them and most really are gross specimens of human, the law profession is not inherently terrible. It's supposed to be profound, defending the right, helping the helpless (great now I sound like Doyle)....but law school is completely different. If you revel in finding the truth, discussing and criticizing other viewpoints, law school is not your calling. However, if you love to tear up people's egos, feed off the blood of the weak, blow up your already oversized ego, and hear yourself talk loud and long....law school is the place for you. Lawyers are trained to be the scumsucking assholes they are through pure survival. Kinda like bootcamp for the mind and ego. They will break you down just to build you back up into the strong nasty lawyer you never thought you could be.
Law school is full of those like I was back then--argumentative, articulate, and passionate about all things that affect everyone. Then the competition and fear settles in, and all sense of fairness and agape are swallowed up by a cloud of compulsive cigarette smoke. Everything you say is wrong or maybe a little right, but basically wrong. The classmate you think is your friend will kick you to the curb to get into law review. Classes are vocal WWF matches where the biggest, loudest, and most annoying triumph. Getting a job for $100,000 is peanuts. How can you pay for that new H2 with that?
Luckily, some graduates can go on to be stronger, louder, and more sure that if they insist long enough, they will be right. They, after all, have picked up lots of great offensive and defensive ploys that speed them right through a layman's argument---such as pointing out "logical fallacies," biased sources of fact, and, inter alia, lots of supercilious application of obscure and archaic terminology. They've also picked up drinking habits and a complete disregard for anyone that doesn't benefit them. Others, like me, are still fighting the law school training, avoiding long drawn out debates and distracting ourselves with creative blissful ignorance. But basically unhappy because we once loved intelligent discussion, but like a beaten puppy, now flinch and dodge once it gets ugly.
Anyway, the point behind this tirade is that I was wondering where my passion for the world went. It got buried by a jaded point of view way too early. No wonder most good lawyers are old and the eye-gougingly annoying young whippersnappers are just that. And yet, I still feel very guilty that I haven't gotten my license and received the badge of super-jaded but rich. So, here's the plan:
--I will get that damn license. And then figure out if I want to become that hard-nosed DA I wanted to be and be really scary, or use my knowledge to help out those that can't help themselves (our president excluded), or continue as I am, happy that I finally got to beat that bitch down.
--REinterest myself in what's going on and fight the law school training to avoid arguments altogether or chew people out in fits of competitive righteousness.
--Ignore the guilt if none of this works.
You know it's sad when you have to end your night disregarding food for computer time. But I'm trying to catch up with my email, since I've been so freaking absentminded and writer's-blocked. Damn my job. I write reports all day and creativity just dries up when you have to figure out if the proper term is "appropriated" or "adjusted designated." So, my night is full--the kitties are locked in heated battle and I'm moaning along with Tori.
I snagged this off of Heathen's site--survey me this:
1.WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
(as translated) Queen King Noisy Woman
2.CAN YOU SING WELL?
I'd like to think so, but I'm probably delusional. I do like to sing in the car, especially when others are looking at me funny.
3.WHERE IS YOUR FAVORITE SPOT ON YOUR BODY TO BE KISSED?
Nape of my neck. It makes me way too easy.
4.WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BREAKFAST FOOD?
Homemade sweet rolls--the ones with 4 kinds of sugar in them. Yum.
5. DO YOU EVER DANCE IN THE MIRROR NAKED?
Way too much fun not to. But hey, I could never control the boogie.
6.WHAT DO YOU WASH FIRST IN THE SHOWER?
My hair. The question is: which shampoo?
7.DO YOU FLOSS?
Nope.
8.DO YOU PLACE THE NAPKIN ON YOUR LAP WHEN YOU GO TO A RESTAURANT?
Yes. Must protect the napkin in the lap :)
9.DO YOU KISS ON A FIRST DATE?
Depends if I like him.
10.WOULD YOU HAVE SEX ON A FIRST DATE?
Usually not.
11.HAVE YOU EVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE?
Yes--men can be wusses.
12.HAVE YOU EVER DONE IT IN YOUR PARENTS BED?
Um, yes...
13.MICHAEL JACKSON OR MADONNA?
Argh, I have to choose? That's like asking me to choose between my children...wait we are talking about "worse" right?
14.IS YOUR BELLY BUTTON CLEAN?
Most of the time.
15.DO YOU EVER TALK TO YOUR ANIMALS LIKE THEY ARE A REAL PERSON?
If I talk to people like I talk to my cats, I'd live in a padded room.
16.WHAT WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOUVE EVER DONE FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND?
Took him out to dinner...in Venice. Then, we listened to the string orchestras in San Marco's square.
17. CAN YOU COUNT ON BOTH HANDS THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE YOUVE SLEPT WITH?
Try one hand.
18. A LOT OF TONGUE OR LITTLE TONGUE?
Usually, lot of tongue = sloppy, so no. But when done right...
19. DO YOU LIKE YOUR FEET MASSAGED?
It's nice, but I'm ticklish.
20.DO YOU LIKE FOREPLAY OR JUST GET RIGHT TO IT?
Foreplay is always good, but not necessary. I mostly just like the sex.
21.HAVE YOU EVER FED A GIRL/GUY FRUIT DURING SEX?
Yes.
22.HAVE YOU EVER HOOKED UP WITH ANYONE ONLINE?
No. Yes. I forget.
23.LEO OR BRAD?
Who the hell is Leo? DiCrapio? Definitely Brad, then.
24.DO YOU READ OR WRITE POETRY?
Yes, both, but I still hold general scorn for most poetry, mine included.
25.WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SAID I LOVE YOU TO IN A ROMANTIC WAY..NOT INCLUDING AN ANIMAL OR FRIEND?
My ex-boyfriend G---.
26.SHOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH AN EX?
Usually, yes. As long as you don't want them dead that is.
27. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A NYMPHO?
No, but I think I think like one or at least like a man. It's entertaining when bored.
28.HEARTBROKEN OR BREAK HEARTS?
Both. Argh.
29.WOULD YOU LICK THE DIRTY GROUND IF SOMEONE ASKED U 2?
Ick no.
30.HEAVEN OR HELL?
According to who? Purgatory all the way.
I snagged this off of Heathen's site--survey me this:
1.WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
(as translated) Queen King Noisy Woman
2.CAN YOU SING WELL?
I'd like to think so, but I'm probably delusional. I do like to sing in the car, especially when others are looking at me funny.
3.WHERE IS YOUR FAVORITE SPOT ON YOUR BODY TO BE KISSED?
Nape of my neck. It makes me way too easy.
4.WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BREAKFAST FOOD?
Homemade sweet rolls--the ones with 4 kinds of sugar in them. Yum.
5. DO YOU EVER DANCE IN THE MIRROR NAKED?
Way too much fun not to. But hey, I could never control the boogie.
6.WHAT DO YOU WASH FIRST IN THE SHOWER?
My hair. The question is: which shampoo?
7.DO YOU FLOSS?
Nope.
8.DO YOU PLACE THE NAPKIN ON YOUR LAP WHEN YOU GO TO A RESTAURANT?
Yes. Must protect the napkin in the lap :)
9.DO YOU KISS ON A FIRST DATE?
Depends if I like him.
10.WOULD YOU HAVE SEX ON A FIRST DATE?
Usually not.
11.HAVE YOU EVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE?
Yes--men can be wusses.
12.HAVE YOU EVER DONE IT IN YOUR PARENTS BED?
Um, yes...
13.MICHAEL JACKSON OR MADONNA?
Argh, I have to choose? That's like asking me to choose between my children...wait we are talking about "worse" right?
14.IS YOUR BELLY BUTTON CLEAN?
Most of the time.
15.DO YOU EVER TALK TO YOUR ANIMALS LIKE THEY ARE A REAL PERSON?
If I talk to people like I talk to my cats, I'd live in a padded room.
16.WHAT WAS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOUVE EVER DONE FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND?
Took him out to dinner...in Venice. Then, we listened to the string orchestras in San Marco's square.
17. CAN YOU COUNT ON BOTH HANDS THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE YOUVE SLEPT WITH?
Try one hand.
18. A LOT OF TONGUE OR LITTLE TONGUE?
Usually, lot of tongue = sloppy, so no. But when done right...
19. DO YOU LIKE YOUR FEET MASSAGED?
It's nice, but I'm ticklish.
20.DO YOU LIKE FOREPLAY OR JUST GET RIGHT TO IT?
Foreplay is always good, but not necessary. I mostly just like the sex.
21.HAVE YOU EVER FED A GIRL/GUY FRUIT DURING SEX?
Yes.
22.HAVE YOU EVER HOOKED UP WITH ANYONE ONLINE?
No. Yes. I forget.
23.LEO OR BRAD?
Who the hell is Leo? DiCrapio? Definitely Brad, then.
24.DO YOU READ OR WRITE POETRY?
Yes, both, but I still hold general scorn for most poetry, mine included.
25.WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SAID I LOVE YOU TO IN A ROMANTIC WAY..NOT INCLUDING AN ANIMAL OR FRIEND?
My ex-boyfriend G---.
26.SHOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH AN EX?
Usually, yes. As long as you don't want them dead that is.
27. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF A NYMPHO?
No, but I think I think like one or at least like a man. It's entertaining when bored.
28.HEARTBROKEN OR BREAK HEARTS?
Both. Argh.
29.WOULD YOU LICK THE DIRTY GROUND IF SOMEONE ASKED U 2?
Ick no.
30.HEAVEN OR HELL?
According to who? Purgatory all the way.
3.17.2004
There was a time, not so long ago, that an overabundance of happiness around me would have produced loads of self-doubt over my own happiness...
But fuck that...(umm, let me clarify for some of you and your dirrty selves--not "butt fuck"--"but, fuck")
Anywho, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by giggles from the peanut gallery:
I just love when people are in love. It's just so damn cute!
Maybe it's just the time of year or the time of my life, but tons of people are getting married--possibly 6 weddings I might be attending soon--and I'm truly happy for all of them. The idea of weddings was a funky thing for me, given that I've always hated their gagging insipidness--the dramas, high expense, bad music, and quick turnaround in feelings that seem to be the standard. Oh, jaded me. I blame it on what my generation has seen of love...think about it:
I was born in the 70s--the "porn" era--when disco, sappy a.m. radio love songs, sex with consequences, and polyester clothing were all about wanting sex (or at least looking like it). Bad start. What I learned--love is quick sex, sex is fun, and by having fun, you will die.
I was raised in the 80s--the "shiny consumerism" era--when spending was high, debt was a way of living, drugs were for the yuppies, and victorian collars and ill-fitting clothes were fashionable. Again, sex...but hidden behind money, propriety, and more materialistic trappings of love. Those who still dressed for the part were misfits and punks. What I learned--love is the appearance of happy, the expensive wedding, the shiny cars and big houses; sex is for the immoral and bad, Jason will kill you for having sex.
I was a teenager in the 90s--the "grungy down with the iron fist" era--when we believed everything sucked, but it was cool that it sucked so bad, and even the flannels we wore were sad. What I learned--love rips through you and leaves you the shell of a person, love is pain, so we might as well have sex, get drugged up, and die, since real love only hurts.
So far, in the 00s, I've just been plain confused. Sex is still fun but bad and shouldn't be had until there's love, but you need to look like you are getting paid for it. Love is still pain and celebrities profit off the image of it, but everyone should need it to live a good life. Now, I've accepted the confusion--I own the confusion--I will have sex when it'll be fun, fuck the morality issue, and when love comes to me, I will bask in it...and check for any hidden cameras.
But fuck that...(umm, let me clarify for some of you and your dirrty selves--not "butt fuck"--"but, fuck")
Anywho, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by giggles from the peanut gallery:
I just love when people are in love. It's just so damn cute!
Maybe it's just the time of year or the time of my life, but tons of people are getting married--possibly 6 weddings I might be attending soon--and I'm truly happy for all of them. The idea of weddings was a funky thing for me, given that I've always hated their gagging insipidness--the dramas, high expense, bad music, and quick turnaround in feelings that seem to be the standard. Oh, jaded me. I blame it on what my generation has seen of love...think about it:
I was born in the 70s--the "porn" era--when disco, sappy a.m. radio love songs, sex with consequences, and polyester clothing were all about wanting sex (or at least looking like it). Bad start. What I learned--love is quick sex, sex is fun, and by having fun, you will die.
I was raised in the 80s--the "shiny consumerism" era--when spending was high, debt was a way of living, drugs were for the yuppies, and victorian collars and ill-fitting clothes were fashionable. Again, sex...but hidden behind money, propriety, and more materialistic trappings of love. Those who still dressed for the part were misfits and punks. What I learned--love is the appearance of happy, the expensive wedding, the shiny cars and big houses; sex is for the immoral and bad, Jason will kill you for having sex.
I was a teenager in the 90s--the "grungy down with the iron fist" era--when we believed everything sucked, but it was cool that it sucked so bad, and even the flannels we wore were sad. What I learned--love rips through you and leaves you the shell of a person, love is pain, so we might as well have sex, get drugged up, and die, since real love only hurts.
So far, in the 00s, I've just been plain confused. Sex is still fun but bad and shouldn't be had until there's love, but you need to look like you are getting paid for it. Love is still pain and celebrities profit off the image of it, but everyone should need it to live a good life. Now, I've accepted the confusion--I own the confusion--I will have sex when it'll be fun, fuck the morality issue, and when love comes to me, I will bask in it...and check for any hidden cameras.
3.15.2004
3.08.2004
OK, instead of physically retracting that last blog, I'm going to suck up the bitterness and take it back.
I will not resort to a hermetic life to avoid communicating my feeling to others. My bad for blaming him for all my issues with men. Will learn to have more pointed, logical arguments and less scary defensive haranguing.
It's so hard being more emotionally mature. I would so rock in high school right now. :)
I will not resort to a hermetic life to avoid communicating my feeling to others. My bad for blaming him for all my issues with men. Will learn to have more pointed, logical arguments and less scary defensive haranguing.
It's so hard being more emotionally mature. I would so rock in high school right now. :)
3.07.2004
3.05.2004
I guess that bout of depression can never be truly diagnosed--it is spring time, 70 degrees outside, sunny, windy, and it's a Friday (officially the weekend in my mind). Whether it's the spring, the day, someone slipped me a happy pill without me knowing it, or Munkeigh is in a bad mood--I'm one happy girl today! Yay the world.
Anywho, lots of seduction plans in the midst recently - 2 of these have worked out so far for my friends. One though troubles me....How does one gracefully grab a guy into the house, pull down his pants, and give a blowjob, without scaring him away? Very difficult, for the slow and smooth kind of seductress, so this would have to be an M.O. shift.
Anywho, lots of seduction plans in the midst recently - 2 of these have worked out so far for my friends. One though troubles me....How does one gracefully grab a guy into the house, pull down his pants, and give a blowjob, without scaring him away? Very difficult, for the slow and smooth kind of seductress, so this would have to be an M.O. shift.
3.03.2004
Yay! I can even play Pathetique Sonata!
You are Schroeder!
Which Peanuts Character are You?
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You are Schroeder!
Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
3.01.2004
I had an epiphany sometime around 3am this morning--I am extremely tired of being taken for granted. As much as I spout my evil ways and how much I hate people and how they should all die a resoundingly painful and drawn-out death, I'm really a nice person and go out of my way to help out my friends. But I need to watch out for the ones that are manipulative without even thinking about it, the bastards.