Kevin: boo
Vanna: *half-hearted shriek*
Vanna: too tired… ^_^;
Kevin: i wanted to thank you for being responsible for the 1000th SantaBearCam visit
Kevin: you are the winner!
Kevin: ::fanfare::
Kevin: ::balloons::
Kevin: ::confetti::
Vanna: am i?!?
Vanna: *gasp* WAHOO!!!
Vanna: *rolls around in confetti* YIPPEE!
Vanna: what glorious fun!
Kevin: lol
Vanna: ha ha
Kevin: =)
Kevin: yeah, i see that a Covad user was visitor 1000
Kevin: and you’re the only Covad person I know of
Vanna: covad?
Kevin: isn’t that your internet service provider?
Kevin: oh, doh…are you comcast?
Vanna: yeah
Vanna: awww… does this mean i’m not the one?
Kevin: ::quietly sweeps away the confetti::
Vanna: you cruel cruel man… getting a girl’s hopes up for nothing
Kevin: ::stops the music::
Vanna: i still have confetti in my hair…
Kevin: ::vaccums vanna’s hair with a flowbee::
Vanna: *softly cries*
Kevin: sorry =(
Vanna: :’(
Kevin: 1001! yeah!
Kevin: ::confetti::
Kevin: ::balloons::
Vanna: >:o
Kevin: ::fanfare?::
Kevin: lol
Vanna: you suck, zing

Posted by KZ on 10/25/03

A new pet peeve of mine that’s been gradually developing over the years is when people in their early twenties proclaim to be old every time they yawn in the evening before 10pm. Whatever happened to enjoying your youth? People are so eager to shrivel up and bury themselves long before it’s their time. Let’s not be so quick to point out every little loss that comes with age, shall we? Instead, I think we ought to be celebrating the things that we’re still able to do, without all of the silly complaints. I mean geez, you know? I shouldn’t have to remind young people that there’s life after nineteen.

Posted by KZ on 10/22/03

It’s not really my place to broadcast my big brother’s affairs, but I feel compelled to say something.

My brother and his girlfriend of six years recently broke up. It’s a damn shame because the girl really grew on me, and I naturally assumed that this was the one. Maybe my brother did too. I’m not very sure of much because he and I don’t ever discuss our personal lives. We get along famously, have epic debates that digress into shouting matches punctuated by laughter, and we even rough house on occasion—but for some reason, we’ve never been very good about sharing our feelings. But even so…although I don’t know him as well as I should, I can plainly see that he’s hurting. Last night, he came by my room to talk. And though I had a dozen things to ask him, to say to him, I just stared at him stupidly and blundered through a few minutes of small talk before he resigned back to his own room. Don’t say a word, I already know. I let him down.

I love my brother. And trite as it is to say this, I really would take a bullet for him. But good intentions aren’t nearly enough. Real men don’t stand idly aside while the people they care about look for support. It’s time for me to set aside all that prideful, feeling-concealment bullshit and to act like a brother.

Posted by KZ on 10/16/03

Here we go again. As first reported by Fucking Duh magazine, researchers are reminding us yet again that obesity rates in the United States are increasing. I read about all of that in a Yahoo article last night. Then this evening, while eating dinner, I noticed that the newscaster assholes had caught wind of the latest study, and were happily employing all of their old tricks. Am I the only one that has a problem with the way the media is handling this whole thing?

Posted by KZ on 10/13/03

Dude, why is it that the cutest girls I meet are usually wholesome, churchgoing Christians? It’s not as if I have something against them. In fact, I’m under the impression that quite the opposite is true. I never feel “good” enough to chase after a nice Christian girl because I don’t think I could ever live up to her expectations in a man. By that, I mean I don’t go to Church, and I’m not totally sold on the Jesus thing. But goddamnit, sometimes you meet a really great girl who’s intelligent, who shares your interests, who carries conversation well, and who happens to be cute, but who also happens to be a dedicated Christian, and you can’t help but think to yourself, “Christ, if only I could believe again.” No such luck, though. Girls like that will forever remain miles out of my league.

Posted by KZ on 10/12/03

So I walk into work at 5pm and start going about my business. A few minutes into my shift, the head store manager passes by my department and gives me a puzzled look. “I thought you were supposed to be in today at 5 in the morning,” she says. I’m struck by a sudden wave of embarrassment and guilt, and I quickly apologize. “That’s funny,” she says simply, giving me a half smile and walking away. Thank God I’ve accumulated enough goodwill at work to get away with crap like that.

Posted by KZ on 10/10/03

The following is a reproduction of some of the more interesting bits of graffiti scrawled on a particular carrel in Santa Clara University’s Orradre Library:

“I study here because I am afraid of people.”

“I study here because I hate the world.”

“I study here because I have to or I can’t play!”

“SCANTRON NOFX!”

“I shit on ignorance.”

“People who write on stuff give me something to read. Thanx.”

“This wood grain pattern effectively simulates the radio wave intensity pattern of the universe.” (written in response) “My Ass.”

Posted by KZ on 10/08/03

• Insomnia is my friend since lack of sleep apparently enhances my test-taking abilities. I took the LSAT without having been able to sleep at all the night before, and I think I did as well as I ever could have.
• When clubbing in San Francisco, you shouldn’t leave your Louis Vuitton scarf laying around unattended in the same spot for two hours, because there are people like Mel out there who can’t resist the temptation to snatch it.
• Speaking of the city, San Francisco cab drivers are awesome.
• One day, my car will kill me. Did you know that when you drive an American car, sometimes “Drive” means “Neutral,” or sometimes even “Reverse?” Like, duh Kev. You can’t always expect your car to move FORWARD when you shift to D.
• Again, while clubbing, the world you experience as a male is so different when you’re accompanied by two attractive women. People (mainly guys) treat you a lot more kindly in the hopes that you’ll say, “No, it’s cool. She’s not my woman.”
• The same guys that approach you to ask about said attractive women are usually full of themselves. “Oh, so you two aren’t dating? What’s her problem then? When I talked to her, she wasn’t down.”
• When you wake up Monday morning, and the things you did on Friday afternoon seem like they happened a week ago, you’ve done something right.

Posted by KZ on 10/06/03

I spoke to Nichole. As it turns out, two different species of salamanders are not able to reproduce. The eggs that Pinkerton laid, Nichole assures me, are duds. Freaking nature. It’s a wacky thing.

Posted by KZ on 10/03/03

Last month, I inherited two salamanders: Pinkerton, the fire salamander, and The Green Album, a spotted salamander (both affectionately named after Weezer album titles). I keep them in a tank lined with soil and moss. I’ve always liked Pinkerton more since she’s the only one of the two that I ever really see. The Green Album, being a spotted salamander, has a propensity for burrowing into the soil and staying hidden. Nobody had ever sexed the salamanders for me, so I didn’t know for sure if I was dealing with two males, two females, or a mixed pair. Seeing as how they belong to different species, though, I figured none of that really mattered. You can see where this story is heading, I’m sure.

Over the past month, I thought Pinkie was merely fat and overfed thanks to her previous owner. But tonight, Pinkerton left a large gray sac floating in the water dish, which I can only assume contains a crapload of salamander eggs. Needless to say, I was blown away. It wasn’t overly surprising to learn that Pinkie is a female, nor was it all that odd to find out that she had been impregnated by a male of a different species. What did surprise me was the fact that Pinkie actually got it on with Greenie. I mean come on, Pinkie…he’s totally not your type. He broods all day in his hole and pouts during every meal.

Right. Anyway, I’m freaking out. I’m so not the kind of person that ought to be caring for animals to begin with, but what the hell am I going to do with 10-20 baby salamander mutts skittering around in this modest tank of mine? From what I’ve read, the eggs hatch “soon” after they’ve been laid. Way to provide me with useful information, fucking internet. It’s too early in the morning to call her now, but I’m hoping that Nichole, my pet shop friend, will be able to help take the eggs off my hands. If not, then what? Am I supposed to throw the eggs away? That seems really harsh somehow.

Posted by KZ on 10/03/03