Tutankhgeek

Take a deep breath and hold it. Now dig this hip cats. The atmosphere is a closed system. No air leaves, no new air comes in. Realizing this, you can have a lot of fun with statistics. The air you now hold in your lungs has been in the of lungs of Kings, peasants, dinosaurs, a few of the particles even have a high likelihood of having been in the last breathe of Caesar.

I was woken this morning by an ungodly bird outside my window, who was apparently trying to find a mate. Every seventeen seconds -- without FAIL -- he would screech HWEE, WHEE! Worse and stranger still, the noise found it's way into my dream before I woke up. You see in the dream I was ... (wait for it) ... reviewing a porn spoof of Star Trek. Here's what I could remember of my critique: "Kirk, the male lead, while handsome and able to do naughty things with the best of them, moaned like an overly-emotional woman. Worse yet was the second female lead (who for some reason only started when the male lead stopped) who's insipid hooting was ann

I was making this comic, and I had roughly two and a half out of the four panel done and they were so beautiful! There were clouds and feathers and red armor and purple fabrics and I was so proud! But thank to my stupid fucking computer with it's stupid fucking battery life and it's stupid fucking adapter (and I suppose stupid fucking me for never saving) I HAVE NOTHING!!! Sombody please make me feel better.