huk

ergo

knowing your bong angle.

i graded 180 general chemistry exams from noon to 8pm. by 6pm i really sympathized with a student's 109.5 deg H-C-H "bong angle."

Somehow i managed to get a lab section full of 18 y.o. girls.

The Australian social spider:

After giving birth to about a hundred hungry spiderlings, Mom's body literally liquefies into a pile of mushy flesh. The babies then completely consume the gooey mess and begin life with some real home cooking in their bellies.

Do you and your genes have a conflict of interest?

still haven't decided.

Walked around town where it's cold and snowy. saw my friend Yosuki, who repeated everything he said twice like usual. I didn't see much snow in Arizona, so this is really nice.

so i have to choose what i'm going to work on for the next 4 years, and I have to do it by the end of this weekend.

As a procrastinator, i have no equal. Or, maybe I've just had more good opportunities than any other of my kind. Regardless, i have to choose an advisor.

My top two choices are polar opposites...maybe that's why...
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i rode up the elevator with my department's Nobel laureate today. For another scientist, a Nobel laureate is sorta like an old rock star that you probably don't listen to much, but you respect their work nonetheless. Like Mic Jagger.

Anyway, i see him around once in awhile but i've never had such a good opportunity to talk to him.

I must add that yesterday...
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innocence is a funny subject just dying to be exploited.

finished my other quantum midterm today at nine--- a event that, in the past, would have warranted a little binge drinking.

But i feel like my head is filled with all this goddamned knowledge that I had to slave over... and that if i might tip my head even a bit, that it would all pour out.

now i'm going to go and sleep with...
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the love song of c. heston.

a lukewarm revolver and settling wisp smoke constitute the remaining bits of motion in the bedroom of our dear friend c. heston.

acending this embalmed body of bitter bitter hands grasping. Flowing in sinewy cold dead tendons, arms and shoulders and head of our stubborn stubborn man Moses.

God of guns savior took a too too long lapse from...
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