HOT LESBIAN ACTION!!!

I think you know what I mean. This. The not posting. The practically criminal negligence of our audience. The inappropriate amount of time spent in the bathroom. I don't know what is wrong with me. In my previous post I hadn't posted since... well, I don't remember what I said. Because it's just so long ago. And you know what else? It's been longer since that post, than it had been before that post and... you see. Now, normally, I would have something to say, some news about my life, something that pisses me off. But I don't. I'm pretty much just writing to mantain some semblance of an active website and to keep the nasty Man from shutting down this website which I, admitedly, pay nothing for and was required to learn no code in order to maintain. Not paying and all is fun, but no code? I'm a disgrace to the nerds, which, unfortunately, does not automatically make me popular with non-nerds. But that's okay. Who needs them anyway?

And it's okay that I don't have anything to say. Most of the time I post I have no idea. But something comes to me. It's human nature, that if you talk enough in your life, you get to the point where saying anything is like jumpstarting a car: it just rolls on from there, and it may bring you to, say, an award ceremony, for you, or you may accidentally run over a hitch-hiking swimsuit model. My point is, you can't stop me. In fact, you'll probably accept anything I have to offer, because despite the veritable treasure trove of attractive websites I have offered to you, you just can't get enough of me. Or those sugar puffs.

So, I've been playing a lot of Deus Ex lately. And by "lately", I mean for the past two months. Because this is a LONG game. And by "a lot", I mean, "xclusively. Because it's the only game I own which I haven't beaten, not because I have some sort of prodigious skill with games so much as that I can only get games as quickly as my two mac frineds can buy them and pirate them to me. So we got about one every six months or so. If you are familiar with computer/video games or are, you know, alive, this game will probably ring a bell for you. For those of you who've been living in a cave, on mars, with your fingers in your ears, while chanting tra-la-la-la-la, well, tell me how those Mars rovers have been doing. And for these same people, I'll explain that Deus Ex is pronounced "Day-Us Ex". Besides which, it's one of the most popular games of all time, a first-person shooter known for its story, extremely open-ended gameplay, and cool RPG elements. And it is great.

It's just annoying as hell. And abusive. This is the first game I can really remember (and there have really been very few I've known well) that has an abusive relationship with me. I feel like that woman who keeps getting smacked around, but then I come back anyway, because I love my man. You know, the man representing a... computer game. And the slapping is... like... being frustrated.

Okay, I'm done with that part. Anyone who's left, tell the rest they can come back now. Oh just great. They're all gone, aren't they? No, maybe they aren't. After all I'd say at least a third of my readers are gamers.Yep, five of my readers are gamers. At LEAST. At least five.

As you may know if you're the kind of person that reads every one of these posts, I'm watching you through your monitor. What I meant to say is, you may know I have both a tablet for drawing pictures into my computer and a scanner, for scanning "analog" drawings. Turns out, neither of these things made me more creative than I was before I got them. Turns out, that number 4 pencil my dad got me for 70 cents has gotten way more usage than this other stuff, and I'm no closer to churning out my brilliant webcomic than I was, although looking back, the characters are much prettier and more refined. But they still look like I ripped off Penny Arcade, a site which I will refer to in every post until everyone who has even a chance of liking it has been there. And I know it's not for everyone, so don't feel guilty if you don't like it. Just give it a try. Also take a look at Mac Hall (machall.com). It's some pretty decent sheessel. Anyway, I'll continue looking for art technology, until I have so much I can't turn to one side without accidentally drawing something or sculpting a statue (the latter may be quite difficult on a computer), and then I will have reached my goal of 100% art-tivity! When people ask me why I got Laguardia Highschool as a drama major and not an art major, I tell them I don't want to risk improving my skills too much and becoming a being composed entirely out of energy, thus accidentally destroying the universe. It's a serious concern!

At said school, we've just begun our second term. For those of you living in said cave on mars with said fingers in ears and singing said tune, (aka, private school goers) this means big trouble. Sort of. See, at my school we have two terms per year, meaning we take two course for each subject. That means twice a year we get new schedules, new teachers, and new classmates. It's a frightening world out there. That also means we get two midterms and two finals every year. This may seem somewhat complicated, but when you take into effect the fact that this system was devised by a crazed monk who sealed himself into a wine casket over 1,000 years ago, it could have gone much worse. That monk is still around. We think he's in the air ducts now.

Okay, I think I'm about done here. And regarding my whimsical habit of waiting for two weeks and then posting several pages-worth of desperate ramblings, I propose: a POSTING SCHEDULE. I just noticed this at Maddox's site (maddox.xmission.com): What he does is, he has a scheduled post date for when his next posting is. That lets people see when to expect something new so they won't all wet their pants in anticipation and then get extra pissed when they realize they have to walk around for a week with dirty pants until their mom does the laundry. Plus, I need to stop mixing figures of speech with metaphors with anything else. And this is a good idea for me too, because it will force me to write more often or risk your tiny, impotent, wraith. And see? This helps you guys too, because you can keep me in line by IMing me (Jake Aimer is the screen name. Don't ask or I will become super pissed and take my Zandeath cyanide pill [side effects include drymouth, chest pains, and life side effects are similar to those in placebo cyanide pill] and die) and going, "Yo, Dude, what the hell?" To this I will respond, "Oh yeah, I've been meaning to post. I'll get to it." Then I'll mutter "After I'm dead," very quietly. But I probably will write something because the thought of alienating my fans (most of whom, or all of whom, I know personally) makes my tiny heart feel mild discomfort. Anyway, it's just a trial.

So until my next scheduled post (or, let's say, anytime before that date), Monday, 2-10-04, I'm your captain, Nicky E. Young, and if you look out your window, you may see two black & white men merrily rowing a rowboat. Don't mind them, as they'll soon plummet to their doom anyway.

NEXT PROJECTED POST: 2-10-04

MY E-MAIL! Okayeahwhatever@yahoo.com.