Oh, I got hot sause all over my bazito!

You know what this is? It's a brain sucker. You know what it's doing? Filing its tax return

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent apple pie

The Adventures of Little Ed Brave

Tell airport security your name is McCannister because you can hide anything in a cannister.

You know what? Nobody notices when this changes anyway.

There are 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and STFU

What happens in a black hole stays in a black hole

The black hole draws you inexorably inward. Time slows. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

I'd diddle little umdidlie... if she weren't my half-sister.

Abortion prevents pedophilia. In more ways than one!
Get Firefox!
I wrote a haiku

which I was about to share,

but then I thought, "screw it."
Level 1

Notice to all users of the Holodeck:

There are safety protocols in place that cannot be deactivated without the approval of two commanding officers or the captain to protect users of the Holodeck from potential harm. However, every time the Holodeck is ever used in a nontrivial manner, no matter what the safety protocols say, the Holodeck turns into a deathtrap.

Unless you believe yourself to be adept at constructing a forcefield from your communicator and 19th century Earth tools, or you're at the very least not wearing a red shirt, you are strongly advised not to attempt to use the Holodeck until a designer comes up with a safety protocol that doesn't kill you whenever somebody looks at it funny. Even when you're not on the holodeck. Or in the same quadrant. Or time period.

In fact, if you are wearing a red shirt, Starfleet may not be the job for you


Category: Dreams of a phenytoin addict

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Aliens invade Earth... for real this time!

Permalink 05/02/08 at 09:12:03 am, by Ed, 96 words   English (US)
Categories: Dreams of a phenytoin addict

I had a dream last night. Epic. Dream. I had to remember it all, so I wrote down everything on the back of a page-a-day calendar including all the ideas I could in a short list so I wouldn't forget them before I got to the end of the list. I would like to recreate that list for you here now:

  • Dr. Who
  • De-magnetizer
  • Girl (dark)
  • Old Man
  • Stabler/Benson
  • Dixie Chicks
  • Hotel Across The Planet
  • Satelite to hear performance in china from Wisc.
  • Aliens
  • Thousands of Nasa Rockets
  • Tone generator

You figure that one out.

Vocal Jazz neural takeover

Permalink 04/07/08 at 06:52:19 am, by Ed, 371 words   English (US)
Categories: School, Work, Dreams of a phenytoin addict

My dreams as of the last two nights have been solely centered around Vocal Jazz. Perhaps because I have been seeing the Vocal Jazz Cabaret show for the past six nights, or perhaps it is a sign of horrible things to come.

Two nights ago was something about cleaning out John Miller's friend's summer house's attic, and the kids in vocal jazz were there to help, and there were watches... I don't know. It was strange.

But last night, I dreamed of the terrible reality of transporting vocal jazz equipment on an open-bed truck. I was not involved in this. I was in the car with Joe, driving past a park on the left, and I saw a microphone stand in the middle of the road.
"Turn around!" I said. "That's a vocal jazz stand. I might as well pick it up" So he did turn around, and I saw the true horror. There were mic cables strewn everywhere in the grass! Even the snake! The poor snake had somehow fallen from its box and gotten tangled up in a mess. I was ready to call the American Society for the prevention of cruelty to sound equipment. But oh, the horrors continue. The sound board itself! Not even in its protective case, just sitting there! It was just dumped on the corner like a baby with no diaper! And it was raining! I was about to hurl. I asked Joe for the phone, and immediately dialed TTG (which for some reason, Joe put in his phone as TTG Thielen-Gaffey). Unfortunately, her three-year-old daughter picked up, and said "Hewwo?"
"Is Tina there? Hello? Is this Tina?"
"My face is wed."
"That's nice, can I talk to Tina?"
At this point, somebody named Sue got on the phone.
"Who is this"
"This is... who is this? I need to talk to Tina." I don't have a clue why I kept calling her Tina. That's just strange. Everybody calls her TTG.
"This is Sue. What do you need?"

At this point, I woke up.

And when I went to the shop today to work, everybody ended up singing all kinds of songs from the Cabaret show. And I thought I was done with it!

My name on my underwear

Permalink 03/24/08 at 05:39:44 am, by Ed, 606 words   English (US)
Categories: Dreams of a phenytoin addict

In my drunken stupor of morning sickness, which isn't really that, but whatever you call it, I have to write this down now before I forget it in my drunken stupor of mid-afternoon sickness, which I usually just refer to as alertness.

My dream last night took place mainly at the Renaissance festival. I was there with at least Melody, Kevin Meyer, Joe, Jake, Ben, and other people who were too indistinct to remember. The first thing that happened was that I was going through a food line, and Ben was directly in front of me picking up mashed potatoes, and I then cut behind him in front of a stranger and picked up a large chicken leg (or some other kind of leg. It was large like the Renaissance festival, but crunchy like KFC) with mashed potatoes already set on the top of the ball part of the leg. I also got corn and gravy. Then I got to the checkout and they carded me... of course! I didn't have time to get my card out, so I left, without buying my food.

I came back later and said something along the lines of "I was here a bit earlier and I was gonna buy some-" and she cut me off incredulously: "Yeah, I've heard the story before."

"No," I said, "I have my real ID right here." I pulled out my wallet, and took out that picture of me from when I was in 2nd grade, and handed it to her, only then realizing that wasn't my ID. Flustered, I tried again. Another picture of me in 2nd grade! Dangit. She was getting annoyed, the line was getting backed up, and she was about to tell me to move it, but I finally got my drivers license out and handed it to her. She examined it for awhile, and finally said, "Alright, it looks good enough." to which I replied, "Yeah, I have a good printer." Suddenly we had begun an under-the-radar transaction of information. "I'll remember that for later," she said, as though she may want a fake ID some day.

So she handed me my plate, which they had kept in the kitchen thankfully, and my copy of Guitar Hero for the PC, and my desktop computer, which they had back there as well, all in a plastic bag. I lumbered around with it for awhile, looking at other video games and saw some mid-40's guy playing Dance Dance Revolution on the Wii without a dance pad, but instead holding a wiimote in his hand. I was continually looking in my bag, wondering if Jake would be annoyed, and if you can hook up a PC guitar to a Wii so he could play 4-player Guitar Hero (he already had 3). I was also hiding the fact that I had gotten a white guitar rather than the special "20" guitar.

Shortly after this, I heard, "Hey, Death." I turned around, because I used to be called Death in High School, of course, and saw Kevin Meyer (who in real life I have not talked to in four years) sitting there (he was the one who called out) and all of the other people I came with. He explained something terribly funny and coincidental about how everybody was just talking about death and then, there I was!

Melody looked down into her purse while explaining that we probably needed to leave pretty soon. Melody, I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have a prominent bald spot on the top-right of your head (your top-left, I suppose). At least you do in my dream.

Engaged and crap...

Permalink 01/25/08 at 12:25:05 pm, by Ed, 314 words   English (US)
Categories: General, Dreams of a phenytoin addict

So, more interesting news today. I am currently taking Dilantin every night before I go to bed. Usually, I have a dreamless sleep, or a dreamful sleep wherein I forget the dreams afterward completely. Since I started on Dilantin, I have had very vivid dreams regularly. It's a new and interesting experience. I can remember the dreams and everything.

The interesting bit about these dreams is that I came up with a musical last night, with the music and the rhymes and the story and everything. A man and a woman around the 1600's are in a kitchen fighting, and the woman is singing about how the man cheated on her and he's defending himself, and she says something like "A very hot kettle/is the perfect metal" for attacking him with. This rhyme came out of nowhere. I didn't make it up. But there were rhymes all over the place, like "You're lucky you're agile, 'cuz if you weren't/the wall would be fine, but you'd be burnt" after she throws the kettle at him.

I also dreamed that I was in a family of vampires and we were on a lake with large colorful mushrooms acting as lily pads that came right out of Alice in Wonderland. Another dream was that I was reading a book by Roald Dahl with a cover drawing like Shel Silverstein's and it was full of "sex poems". The book was titled "West Ottawa Middle School" which happens to be where my brother went to school. Where the information about the copyright is, it had a couple of contributor's names beside the author, and they were Seth Marty and Joe Marty.

Like I said. Very vivid dreams. I shall have to begin keeping a notebook by my bed in case I come up with a flux capacitor or something.

Oh, and I'm engaged now, too. To Bridget.

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