“Well, do you?”
“No, sorry, forgot mine in the car. Would you excuse me while I go grab it?”
So all of a sudden all these “Soul Inside” T-shirts start showing up, and there’s little signs and chalked letters on sidewalks and things saying “Do you have a soul?” and such as that. Funny how I don’t notice this until Suzanne mentions it the other day, but I’m me, I guess. Best I can make out, this is part of the Vast Christian Conspiricy to Convert the Masses. Which, when you get right down to it, is fairly offensive. Not just in the religious sense, either. I mean I get pissed whenever I see anything spammed to that degree. It’s actually sort of sad when it’s religion, because it seems to me that it demeans the beliefs of the believers to have to advertise in such a manner. OTOH, it’s sort of a step below the Jehovah’s Witnesses coming to the door every week. Annoying in either case. Which isn’t to say I’m against advertising the faith, just I’d rather it was done nonintrusively. Oh well.
Enough on the Advertising Front. On the Academic Front, socialist competition has led the shock brigades to make great strides in achieving perfection. Or rather, I sat down last night, read 300 pages of Soviet propaganda from the 1930s, and wrote a paper on it this morning. Very tired and in need of nap now.
Just ’cause I’ve always wanted to do this.
Nothing, nothing, nothing but the one thing
Someone said my words are out of balance
nothing to say, you’ve got nothing to say
dying words I bury every day
nothing to say, I’ve got nothing to say
nothing but the one thing
you’ve got nothing, nothing to say
nothing but the one thing
big bad word, spell it with four letters
nothing to say, you’ve got nothing to say
Oh my God, your words are out of balance
nothing to say, you’ve got nothing to say
nothing but the one thing
nothing, nothing
You’ve got nothing, nothing to say
nothing but the one thing
nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
And there you have it. And that one thing is, Soundgarden rules.
So I’m doing a fighter sweep mission in a P-47D. These usually mean kill 4 random Fw-190s and go home. I run into 4 Fw-190s, watch my wingmen cut them down because I can’t fight Fw-190s for shit. And I’m thinking “Hey, I’ve got tons of fuel left, and I’ve still got a full bomb load. Extra credit, dude.”
An unsuspecting German flotilla just so happened to be right there. So we start bombing the hell out of destroyers and cargo ships. About halfway through, 4 Bf-109s show up, so I kill 3 of them, and my wingmen kill the other, then I go back to sinking stuff. ALMOST through with that, 4 MORE Fw-190s show up. This time I manage to get one, while flunkies take the other 3. The last ship dies, and I’m like “Yeah. Intense mission. Now I can go home.” Hit the warp button. “Why am I going towards France?” Those first Fw-190s weren’t the droids I was looking for? No, it appears, as 4 Bf-109s show up, and we’re having intense dogfights in the middle of German AA flak.
So I’m diving after this -109, and I’m going so fast I exceed max design speed, and I’m like a pinprick from blacking out, and I’m going straight towards the water at intense speed thinking “Oh. Shit.” I manage to pull up TEN FEET before slamming into the water. As they say at RBCiv, it’s sometimes better to be lucky than good. In the end, I end up taking 3 of the -109s by myself. Then I went home, and got back with 10% fuel left. Still on adrenaline from that.
And on another note, in an earlier mission I was dogfighting with a Fw-190, and I cut one way and he cut the other, and the next thing I know I’m out of control. I bail out, and notice that his wing went right through my tail, cutting it off. He died, I lived. The fact that my tail actually flew off was excellent, though.
Yay for CNN.
“Mohammed Imran, Mohammed Hanif, Mohammed Sharib, Mohammed Ashraf were named in the indictment.”
The joke has the ring of truth, as it were. Everyone really DOES have the same name. ;)
Well, that’s that. A not-quite-3-page summary of an article entitled Soviet Perceptions of U.S. “Positions-of-Strength” Diplomacy in the 1970s. 25 pages. Serious stuff, though sort of…dated at 1979. At any rate, it was a sort of hard assignment, but not as hard as she made it out to be. OTOH, I haven’t got a grade on it yet… It seems, though, that if one reads with an eye to the main points, it’s not all that difficult. Could just be me.
At any rate, it’s 4:30 in the morning, and I’m starting to lose the effects of the massive caffiene ingestion. I may sleep yet. All I know is, if I never see the interior of MS Word again, it’ll be too soon.
And so, after having class for 3 hours just now, and 1.5 earlier, I now need to read a fairly large journal article and write a summary on it, which is harder than it may sound, all by tomorrow. I have yet to start. And I’m way way tired. Argh.
So on a whim I was up last night until like 2am reading Civ 3 SG reports. So now I’m exceedingly tired today, and I have to read 30 pages and write a precis summary of it ’cause it’s due tomorrow. Had two midterms Monday/Tuesday, ruled over them. Got my paper back from Friday, turns out I wrote on the wrong topic, didn’t do it in the exact style he wanted, and he gave me a B- anyway. Rule.
And MS Combat Flight Sim 3 is fun, even if I suck at it harshly. Then, I haven’t played a flight sim since, oh, F-15 Strike Eagle III in like, 1993. Didn’t REALLY play em after F-15 II and Their Finest Hour back in like, 1991. Those were the days. Oh yes they were.
*yawn*
So I randomly fell asleep last night at 9pm. Woke up at 12. Then I proceeded to catch up on homework until like 4:30. Accomplished what I thought would take two days in like 4 hours. I rock. I’m tired, but I rock.
Easter ruled. Got food, got candy, hung out with the parental types. All the good stuff.
And we all know about the keyboard entertainment now. *grin*
Friday was, uh…yeah. Fun, of course, since Suzanne and I DO have a good time together, and I did finally get her over here on her own initiative. How I feel about this exactly is something I’m still trying to figure out.
And along those lines, I do believe I’ve run out of girls I know who haven’t seen Bourne Identity. Tali, Suzanne, Mom, they’ve all seen it now. *snicker*
And way on the plus side, Suzanne hooked me up with like all of Led Zeppelin. Score.
We come from the land of the ice and snow…
as_does_typing_with_character_map.stupid_pop_spill.RRG!
So he does this of his own free will. And I quote:
Whir plays with barbies.