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Someone is on the way to fix the errors.

Someone is in the. way to fax the errors.

Someone esta en la way to faq .el errors.

Sumwon izon thewai tu phix la errors.

Somon is .on de ve to vex ve erros.

Someone is on the way to fix the errors.

Someone is in the way to fax .the errors.

Someone esta en la way to faq el errors.

Sumwon izon thewai tu. phix la errors.

Somon is on de ve to vex ve erros.

System Failure Imminent

It is now quite clear to me that the Eater Blog has fallen under the power of some kind of malevolence force, possibly a wandering techno-spirit bent on reaping revenge on me. This started with the vanishing blog titles. Today was even worse: photoshop had the electronic equivalent of a heart attack while I was in the middle of banging out today's drawing.

I managed to hit the 'print screen' button in the middle of the program crash, and as you can see from the image that I managed to capture proof of the supernatural forces that have declared war on this blog.

I may have to contact a few experts to see who will defeat this evil menace. You can help out by posting a comment to let me know who you think would be best suited to expel this evil: Applicant A, Applicant B, Applicant C, or Applicant L.

Choose wisely. The future of the Eater Blog depends on you!

Where Have All My Titles Gone?

Yes, exciting question-title today. For some reason, blogspot has decided to eat some of my more recent blog titles. This is problematic for me, a person who takes pride in his zany title wordplay. What has caused these mysterious disappearances? Who is to blame? (and so forth with the questions...)

Be assured that the Eater of Small Things will get to the bottom of this mystery. Until then, I'd just like to profess that I had an amazing weekend visiting my family. We had an awesome time with my dad, saw the new Star Trek movie, and ate many country-style breakfasts, and drank a lot of chocolate milk.

Went to my mom house for a Mother's Day cookout. Very relaxing day. Got to see my new nephew, got to eat many hot dogs. My brother Matt seems happier than I've ever seen him, and I thank his wife Bridget for that fact. All in all, a very good weekend.

Today, Today, Today

Today is better than yesterday by default. Yesterday featured a math homework marathon that ran about ten hours. Why so long? I'm relearning the basics, and unfortunately it takes quite a bit of time for me to figure things out. Though I must admit that math is pretty cool.

It's just too bad the special "OSU" edition of the Intermediate College Algebra is next to worthless. I've borrowed the standard college text that it was derived from, and I was surprised to see how much better it explained the different problems encountered in every section. So now I hop between the two texts as if deciphering some dead language with my own personal Rosetta Stone.

Tonight we are flying the coop for dearer pastures. I wasn't able to escape as far as the beach, but this is the next best thing: visiting my family. Should be fun, I just hope I can get everything done before we leave. I may try to do homework on the ride down, but even the thought of staring at equations on a bumpy road makes my head hurt.

Yesterday, Yesterday

Today: I am angry, frustrated, exhausted.

Stick a fork in me I am done. Or I'd like to be done.

I will never be done.

God I'm so tired.

I want to go to the beach.

I want a cigarette.

Or discernible purpose.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow.

Another Wednesday has cropped up on me unexpectedly and I realize I've been neglecting the Eater Blog this week due to various distractions.

Our friends invited us to hang out with them last weekend to drink some beers and play Wii Fit, an amazing application that makes exercise fun and social (waah! impossible!). How'd I do? Not good. The Wii accessed my body's (fake) age at around 37 and that I'd need to eat a banana to make up for my lack of physical activity.

Most of the exercise activities the Wii Fit offers are pretty neat, and we had a lot of fun trying them out. I seem to perform poorly at everything except for dodging soccer balls, though that may be a case of beginner's luck. I look forward to the next time we play (because I've got some records to destroy).

Our friend Clayton was recovering from jaw surgery yesterday so we trekked out to Patalaska to shower him with Frosties and love. And since it was Cinco De Mayo, we celebrated by getting some Taco Bell. Sometime later in the evening Clay, Brandi, and I formed a cheese pact that would keep us bound to follow Esther out of the room when the day comes that we no longer want to see obscene things on television. (last night it was determined that Esther has some internal survival mechanism that protects her from bearing witness to some of the more horrific aspects of reality. I have labeled this newly discovered genetic trait the "accidentally prudent" gene.) She is now our designated canary in the coal mine.

Dimensional Rambler

Today's title is a play off of the Dimensional Shambler from H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, a being that walks between worlds and eats people. A web search for Dimensional Shambler reveals some pretty interesting information.

In life nothing is really constant. Things change, seemingly for the worst in today's case. My favorite college dive, Larry's, has closed down. Honestly, I hadn't been through the doors in a couple of years, but it was something familiar that I walked by every day to class. I had a lot of good memories in there. It was the 'art kids' bar, a place that secreted some kind of special aura that kept away some of the more obnoxious bar-goers.

Me and the other grad students in the Painting Dept. would all go over to Larry's to lick our wounds after those long, painful critiques. Drink ourselves into oblivion and take turns buying the rounds. I also have fond memories of losing games of pool, content to hit the cue ball as long as someone was willing to go break dollars to feed the table. Good memories, carefully retired to a shelf where I could remember them.

What broke my heart today was seeing them take down the neon "Larry's" sign this morning. I sighed in resignation when I saw the sign they were putting up in its place: The Sloppy Donkey Salon--- Surely, an idiot's bar based on that name. I fear there's going to be no genuine character left in this place. Who names these places? Why such stupid names? Is there some new handbook that dictates that you can only name new establishments based on adjective + animal + salon? We're being taken over by Madlibs.