The Teracat Chronicles

A downbeat beat down

Sat, 02 Jan 2010 00:30:45 GMT

New Years:

Happy 2010, all.

The Meme: Compile a list of the first line of the first entry of every month for the past year.

December: I'm tempted to blame my slow evolution (de-evolution?) into a shut-in entirely on this year's theme of "Let's get sick as often as possible", but that would be leaving out my instrumental role in this retraction.

November: Borderlands is a FUN game. Like, I didn't know what to expect, but it is a game seemingly hand-tailored for me and my friends (and, apparently, a hell of a lot of other people).

October: Lettuce review the facts. You've mustard up olive the worcester jokes you had, yet you still relish yourself a hero.

September: Outside, nothing is going on lately. But inside...

August: Boarding a plane back to NYC in about 20 minutes or so. Full report still to come, but...

July: FOOLED YOU.

June: I don't know what I'm supposed to write here anymore. Nor do I know why I refuse to sleep even though I really should get a decent night's sleep before tomorrow.

May: Wow, Sly Cooper is actually beating out Persona.

April: The best thing is, Naoto requires no change whatsoever.

March: I feel much better about the upcoming day now.

February: SATURDAY WAS THE DAY

January: Happy new year, everyone.

Okay, 4 hours of work and then I sleep like a muthafucka.

oh my god uncharted 2 is fun. why did i doubt you, naughty dog??

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 21:11:04 GMT

There are times in a man's life when he must flee.

And there are times in a man's life when he must pack as many guns as possible, and end up running into the fray like a madman and punching everyone in the face, emerging brutally victorious.

HAWK
EGGPLANT
ARIIISE MS. SAKAKIIIII

Door Matt

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 01:33:41 GMT

So we have Uncharted 2: Among Thieves and my first impression of Uncharted 2: Among Thieves is that I haven't gotten to play Uncharted 2: Among Thieves. I saw a bit, and it seemed okay, but I think the Uncharted 2: Among Thieves experience is best enjoyed when actually controlling the game. All I got to do was play as Robotnik in the Winter Olympics, and that's kind of a rip-off when looking forward to the visual and gameplay orgasm that Uncharted 2: Among Thieves is supposed to be, as I've been told by many people and a few inanimate objects.

Things I did today:

Bought

Things I didn't do today:

WRAP

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckThE TIME IS RUNNING OUT

malkovich

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 08:44:25 GMT

operation Go To Bed At 2:00 AM could be going better

crassmos

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 06:30:15 GMT

stolen from

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 04:14:22 GMT

Writer's Block: James Cameron’s AVATAR

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 20:26:51 GMT

James Cameron’s AVATAR is in theaters today. What about this movie interests you the most?

Sponsored by AVATAR. In theaters December 18. Buy tickets now.

View 254 Answers

FURSECUTION

Hatcha~

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 09:58:55 GMT

So close. So unbelievably close. 2/3 done with the essay that will, in all likelihood, be the last essay I ever write for Suffolk.

Sleep for five hours. Wake up, finish, present to teacher 4 days early...hopefully win.

My friend at work quit today, which kinda sucked.

WHATEVER

I GOT NO TIME FOR THIS SHIT

I SLEEP THE SLEEP OF THE JUST!

WHY CAN'T I MAKE MYSELF DO WORK THIS SHOULD BE EASIER

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 07:43:20 GMT

The song made him laugh.

It wasn't really funny, but it was such a bizarre reminder of another time. Another life, really. Something he'd cried over a long time ago. What else, then, was he to do but laugh?

His feet twisted in the grass, and he raised his arm to the sky. The moon shone off of his skin as his body flowed in harmony to the rhythm that rose from the town. The song was in his blood, and he was a part of the song.

Finally, he bent his head back and shouted. It was deep, primal yell that seemed to echo into the stars as the music faded away.

He fell on his back, panting. For a moment he laid still, feeling the song recede into his memories.

He picked himself up and walked home.

...

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT??

GODDAMMIT I AM SEETHING WITH HATRED RIGHT NOW

Placement on the B&N playlist has confirmed that I can never get tired of Ocean Eyes.

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 04:53:25 GMT

I AM GOING TO FINISH A FIRST DRAFT OF MY FINAL PAPER TONIGHT GODFUCKINGDAMMIT

No amount of ~~animalcrossing~~ distraction can keep me at bay!

HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

oh hey look some fossils c:

ALSO:

Everyone needs to listen to this: http://www.jonathancoulton.com/2006/01/27/thing-a-week-18-dance-soterios-johnson-dance/

I decree it so.

ALSO ALSO:

So is the nook a format, or a player?
Actually, it's ䷒䷓䷋䷞䷒䷀䷂䷅䷛䷘䷞䷊䷆☴䷋𝍒𝌿𝍌𝌁𝍏𝌿𝍊𝍋𝍌䷦䷪䷩⣞

My hair is too long.

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 03:49:35 GMT

But the rest of my life right now is starting to look pretty GROOVY.

I have to write one final paper, comparing and contrasting any two things. I don't want to do any more research, as I don't have a lot of time to finish this paper. So what do I do?

Write a paper comparing Preacher and The Sandman.

oh my god yes

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 10:39:00 GMT

Quick as the wind and as still as the forest
HOTTER THAN FLAMES AND MORE MAGNIFICENT THAN A MOUNTAIN!!

I have finished this paper. My professor said I couldn't, and I did. Fuck yes.

I'm still kind of afraid that there's going to be one tiny thing or another that he's going to trip me up on, and that all of this stressing out would be for naught, but...

Well, fuck that. I have seven goddamn pages of pure pet care brilliance, and a nice, professional little bibliography at the end.

Just one more essay to stress out over after this one, and as soon as that's done, I can apply.

Tomorrow, I come back with my spirit soaring or face down in the dirt.

IT'S GO TIME!

RESTRICTION 37 RELEASED FROG MODE IS NOW BOOTING UP

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 05:07:22 GMT

What the fuuuuuuuck

Last night I was riding a wave of adrenaline that seemed to be lasting for hours. I felt freaking unstoppable at work, and all that was going through my head was "HOT SHIT I'M GOING TO GET MY ESSAY DONE TONIGHT FUCK YEEEAH"

That died right after I got home. I went to sleep at 3. Woke up at 1 PM, went to work at 2, and here I am.

IT DOESN'T MATTER NOW! All of those false due-dates I made for myself don't matter, because A) They have already passed and B) IT'S REALLY DUE TOMORROW.

Diagram
You see, a minimum of four essays is required for a C in this particular freshman composition class. I have two completed essays. The essay that has been giving me trouble will be the third, and I will still need enough time to both work on the fourth essay and have all of these essays reviewed by my professor, before the semester ends.

In other words, the preliminary stages of my ambitions are reaching a climax. I don't get this done, I am looking at another year at home. I may not get sleep, I may be wrecked as shit for work tomorrow, but I will finish this tonight.

NOW OFF I GO!

Are you kidding? It's impossible for me to not take things personally!

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 01:43:27 GMT

I'm tempted to blame my slow evolution (de-evolution?) into a shut-in entirely on this year's theme of "Let's get sick as often as possible", but that would be leaving out my instrumental role in this retraction.

Every once in a while I make desperate attempts to branch out, but these hardly ever change things. In the end, I am spending most of my days at home, doing passive things and generally killing time between cradle and grave. I make vows and wishes to wake up tomorrow as not someone who is automatically better, but someone who has the drive to make himself that way. Tomorrow, I'll start exercising again; Tomorrow I'll do my work; Tomorrow I'll try to work out my problems with people and people's problems with me.

Obviously, I'm expecting something to happen with no effort. I mentally call people out for doing this so often, and naturally it is what I do all the damn time.

Yes, I know what I have, and I'm grateful for what I have. I'm employed and paid well, I am pretty certain of what I want to do in my life, and I have family and friends who love me and who I love in return.

What I lack is motivation. Motivation to climb the first steps toward my eventual future. I know I can't give up, but I feel like I can't move forward. And the thought of staying with my family for more than a year, even if I do just have to stay just one more year, gets my stomach churning fiercely.

oh yeah and something about wine. Look, I'm just a little peeved that I get singled out for complaining about my troubles on my Livejournal account. That's the point of the damn thing. Okay? Okay HOly shit I forgot my speakers were behind me. God. Thought I was dying.

FHUN FHAK

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 00:59:26 GMT

So apparently people aren't even tested for swine flu anymore. IF one's general flu results come back as type A, the response you get is "You might have it".

I do, however, feel like shit. Mm-mm-mm.

And I still have a boatload of essay to do.

This is adding up to a whole bunch of fucking stupid.

The Pinot Noir worked excellently with the turkey

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 06:58:35 GMT

So, family gathering kinda sorta. Woohoo let's go awkward powers.

POINT ONE: The dogs that my dear aunt and uncle laughably describe as "well-behaved" actually weren't so bad. I have known quite a few dogs in my lifetime, and I know very well how utterly excited dogs can become when company arrives. That being said, these dogs get abnormally excited over just about anything. When you enter their household, you see these two beasts running, jumping, lashing their tails and indeed their entire rumps back and forth, bursting with so much mirth that they seem inches away from heart attacks.

Fortunately for them, they are gigantic muscular fucking powerhouses who will not expire from such activity, allowing them to beat the shit out of you (which is their innocent way of saying hello).

Thrpoint flive: Oh yeah, and apparently a cousin of mine is gay, and currently lives with her girlfriend. Discovered this when my Uncle, Aunt, and Grandpa spoke about it like she had just fucked twelve sheep on a densely populated subway.

We had a dry white 2006 wine with the appetizer (Pizza Rustica), which complimented the various cheeses and meat perfectly.

you know the trouble with savignon blanc's you can't tell them apart

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 08:18:02 GMT

Quest: Don't be such a socially awkward loser

Overall Progress: A shrug and some numbers.

Tonight's Progress: Not so bad at all.

Tonight's Wine: 2001 Tobin James Merlot

dear everyone

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 07:53:23 GMT

FUCK
FUCK
CFUFKC
FUCKFUY
HFIUC
AAHG
GICUFKCUFKC

AFUCK
A
FUC
KA
YYESHHHNFGDSMNO!

this is why
you are not
in charge of
your virginityy

ARE YOU PREPARED
\OPENOING
#
!@
GO!
And the rave is reaching its conclusion as Doctor Jimmeny is doing the stray cat strut sideways to the square route of negative finish line coming up in close twenty third is your lover and everyone's F5 key the F5 key and finisdhing in right now is my wwater bapottle tghis is my hero

LET _S GO

my hairtis prewtty gy and it's long.

HARD
AND THEN
YOU ALL
HAVE A WERY WERY NICE FIVCTORY PARTY

suddenly i'm all self conscious
and they generally think the US is a very bad country

SEE YOU IN FOUR HOURS!

65.6

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 08:06:08 GMT

pretty much.

WAAAGHH I'M FREE NOW

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 07:26:13 GMT

The first words of the poem still echoed in my head, long after they had escaped my classmate's mouth.

"Bring me the sunset in a cup", she said, pronouncing ever consonant crisply and carefully. English seemed more like some sophisticated art form than a language when she spoke it, expertly releasing phrases and passages that most would cough up in a slurred, shameful manner.

Though I tried to understand some of the things she said after that, none of it really made sense. Still, I could have listened to her speak all day, carrying me away with visions of middle-aged retail workers, college dropouts, and kings demanding the sunset in a cup.

Although if you asked me who she was, the most you'd get from me is a blank stare.

emily dickinson makes me feel really, really stupid

I was listening to a Portal song for two minutes and figured it was a really long Enya intro.

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 06:28:40 GMT

Borderlands is a FUN game. Like, I didn't know what to expect, but it is a game seemingly hand-tailored for me and my friends (and, apparently, a hell of a lot of other people).

Okay. Essay tonight. I'm going in tomorrow with a completed draft. Enough fucking around. I will pass this class, goddammit.

SHOOT YOUR SHOT
ROUND 1
FIRE!

Yeah. Yeah? Mwah! MWAH! Heh. Wah! Sweeeet.

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 03:49:03 GMT

~Requirements~

Jean-Shorts: Check.
Trophy Belt Buckle: May be more difficult to find than I had figured.
"#1" Bling/Gold Chain: See above. Also may be expensive as shit.
Ears and Tail: Check. Collecting dust anyway.
Aviators: 15 bucks. Easy.
Haircut/Blue Hair/Gelled to maximum spikiness: The sobering reality of this costume has just hit me.
A wonderful Halloween costume: HOPELESS

Lame. I hate my lack of Halloween spirit. I do so wish I had more.

ON THE PLUS SIDE

I am actually feeling much better about myself as a person.

OH BUT I AM STILL A LONE SQUIDDLE SEARCHING THE BRINY SEAS FOR MY ONE TRUE TANGLE BUDDY

the search shall continue
I MUST NEVER LOSE HOPE

ADDENDUM

It would be so awesome to run a real Reaper's Game. Er, well, not real. Like, collect players' cell phone numbers, give out missions requiring players to solve puzzles, beat certain Reapers in some form of sport or game, etc. I don't know how Noise would be simulated, and how players would be eliminated...

Oh, wait. Reapers live off of the points they earn from erasing players, so perhaps it could be sort of like Zombies in that respect. After a certain day, the GM could recruit a bunch of people to be Reapers and have them assault players somehow...

HURR HURR NEVER GONNA GO TO A REAL COLLEDG o _ o

mm HMM.

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 05:09:03 GMT

Last night I got scared shitless.

I was in bed, trying to fall asleep, and that's just when I remembered that my days are numbered and sooner or later this consciousness that I call my own will slip into oblivion. I figured it would be rather like falling asleep, but I'd never wake up, never dream, and never have another thought.

Those blank spaces in between my dreams and reality would be stretched into eternity, and I will never exist again.

It's definitely time to start branching out again. Existential quandaries are the number one symptom of too much time alone with oneself.

Trophy Thomas Trophy

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 03:11:04 GMT

I can't think of anything anymore.

la la la la lalala la

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 21:33:27 GMT

lalala la la la la la