That iconic scene in the Transformers animated movie where Optimus Prime is cut down in his… prime shaped an entire generation into alcoholic shells of men who spot-weld their mom’s blowdryers into replica proton blasters and tape bright red and blue painted boxes together to emulate their fallen hero. It’s basic psychology. So look upon this man as a survivor and you will see the light I see. Now that you understand, what are you waiting for? Fucking transform and roll out already! *Ehnt-ehr-eoh-ahn-aunht*

Did you ever wonder what happened to that electronic music group The Prodigy from the 90s? Yeah, me neither.

Unp0ssible= The next MSN
Pablo= The next Mrs FWalken

Everyone in today’s society is so up-in-arms about racism and homophobia they overlook that sometimes people might have very real and traumatic reasons for such prejudices. What happened in this photo made this man a homophobe for life.

What happened in this photo made this man afraid of himself for life.

During my quest for comfort (which could be entitled: A Boy without a Seat) I somehow managed to wander into the Engineering building (somehow would involved a door the outside and another door) which is a nice enough place (save for the fact all outsiders summarily receive looks of scorn, I’m still puzzled how the Engineering Majors can smell my nonengineeringness) and found an exponentially less comfortable clime.

Upon awaking I found that every single part of my body had fallen into a deep slumber. Consciousness alone failed to rouse my incapacitated body I was forced to heave myself sideways in the chair. None of the busily working students paid me any notice, this continued until finally enough of me was able to move that I propelled myself out of the chair and down the hall in an attempt to find coffee.

This is about when I discovered that I was inside the Engineering building. This conclusion was reached when the door was no where near where it should have been. UTSA is not a particularly confusing campus, yet for the first time in 5 years I actually felt lost (this feeling was compounded by most of my torso still being parayalized).

Even though old people smell and can’t remember how to close their mouths sometimes, they have an order to their cliques all the same. You’ve got the leader who’s smooth as shit (his shit probably is smooth, too), the crotchety guy who will argue with you over ten cents, the slut and the nice chick. They’re all going to die.

This is the type of thing that can render entire civilizations infertile. Have you seen Children of Men? That screenplay was adapted from this image.

I write that mostly to get it off my desk, which happens to be littered with dozens of other needless objects. School can get to be very swamping at times (this semester seems to be especial) especially when Spring Break lurks around the corner. Apparently a Biology degree entails a certain amount of work, work I could perform.

Ahh the ides will soon be upon us.

Then another hot lazy summer stretches out towards brief winter.

Perhaps it’s the only way to survive in this world.

Seriously died a long time ago now. Unp0ssible was supposed to fill the void it left, it hasn’t even touched close yet. Being creative isn’t supposed to be a chore its intended to be a release (think sex).

Promises to write more often. Promises of funny to come. Promises to do more.

Empty or fulfillable?