I already went to sleep, but then, in a sudden twist of spontaneity, decided to come back and post this entry. You see, as I lay there, cold and naked, on my straw mat of a bed (on a raft floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean), I had a revelation...

Since I've started working, I ride the elevator a lot. The elevator can lead to very awkward situations -- ESPECIALLY if you make it so. The following is a short list of 10 simple things you can do to ensure that your elevator experience is as awkward as possible. (These situations obviously require the existence of others in the elevator.)

1. Stand very close to the other person. Not only stand close, but face towards him or her, and breathe heavily.

2. Slowly, but surely, hit all the floor buttons. Do not make eye contact w/ any of the riders, but make it seem like you know what you are doing.

3. Shout "I KNOW!" as loud as you can.

4. Shoud "WAH!" (duck noise) as loud as you can.

5. When others are having a conversation, politely tell them, "Please be quiet. I am trying to study."

6. When others are having a conversation, kindly smile and interject "That's not funny."

7. Stand near the door and make no effort to move when people enter or leave the elevator. If they push, call them assholes.

8. Make eye contact with a fellow rider. Ask him or her how it's going and after he or she responds, tell him or her to stfu.

9. Cough up phlegm and spit it on the floor.

10. Last but not least, flatulate loudly and persistently.



I hope reading this entry will help you make your elevator ride as awkward as possible. Good luck!

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If you haven't yet, please read The Migration of Data (Part 1) first.

Next to his body, written in blood, were the words "Fellow baboons beware, the hairy protistas are attacking!!"

And then it happened.

The hairy protistas returned for their second ambush. There were thousands of them, armed with the most malicious and inhumane of weapons. They attacked from all 8 sides, each side led by a different protista general.

And then it happened.

We won the battle. We.. won.... the battle.

The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful, though most tiresome. After all the lemons were all properly set up on the pineapple trees, correctly configured to the exact angles between the sun and moon and Saturnic satellites, and properly balanced in mass-juice ration (MJR), we grabbed dinner at the local Chilis. Check out the group pic I took w/ my camera. (I'm not in it, because I'm the one taking the picture.)



At the end day, though, we mustn't forget the tragic loss of our beloved colleagues. These courageous baboon warriors died for a better NuTang. The hairy protistas will pay for their terrorism. Mark my words: "The protistas will pay!"

A moment of silence, please, for the courageous baboons that died in battle:

Yenakilagoya

Amesaogoya

Goyahoya

Jaeerhaboya

Makilagoya

Malaboya

Jakilahikizaoya

Mamahikizaoya

Tapahikizaoya

Jalagoya

Yenalachoya

Halachoya

Yenalahikizaoya

Lalagoya

Yenakilachoya

Jakilaboya

Malachoya

Hapaboya

Lakilaboya

Hamaboya

Makilachoya

Malaboya

Lazachoya

Hakilahikizaoya

Tamahikizaoya

Tapagoya

Maeerhaboya

Takilagoya

Yenaeerhachoya

Yenazahikizaoya

Hapahikizaoya

Lazaboya

Halachoya

Lakilaboya

Maeerhachoya

Mapaboya

Lazagoya

Yenazagoya

Yenazaboya

Lalahikizaoya

Mapachoya

Mapachoya

Mapahikizaoya

Lamahikizaoya

Haeerhaboya

Makilachoya

Yenalachoya

Tapachoya

Lapahikizaoya

Hamachoya

Yenamahikizaoya

Yenakilaboya

Haeerhachoya

And last but not least, Yenazaboya

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The past 24 hours have been brutal, to say the least.

As the final phase of our xPPGY server upgrade, we had to migrate all the data from the database to the southernmost tip of the Island of Ishbu, Huihuizone, where the soil was more fertile and soft to the furry feet. Everyone knew this was a most treacherous and formidable journey, one that required not only endurance of the utmost superhuman and superbaboonian strength, but also wit as sharp and caustic as the sarcastic verbal fibers of Sir Wilten Darmah.

The length of the path was 49,873 billion miles. The baboons had to transport all the data there at lightning quick speed. All the data meaning, yes, all 298,298,298,298.298 bushels of waxed lemons. (According to a recent publication from Papagoya's research lab, waxed lemons are one of the most efficient ways to store and manage data, because of the organic memory fibers prevalent in the sour molecules of lemons and the relatively inexpensive maintenance required to wax the epidermal, telemecules tenenbaumic layer on the outside skin of the lemon.)

Anyway, the trek began on the 280th day of 2006. The first baboon battalion left when the moon was still shining it's cucumber-laden shoes. They bid Mr. Mushroom goodbye and paid their respects to the Shrine of the Silver Monkeys. These were some of our finest baboons, great warriors of speed and meticulosity. They were expected to reach Huihuizone in 29.8 seconds and be back by the drop of a goose feather from the sacred lemon tree.

Two hours passed. The baboons did not return. Papagoya was getting worried and started to create origami muskrats to sacrifice to the Oracle of Boracle of Borealis. Then it happened. The Oracle of Boracle of Borealis exploded like a giant stone popcorn. This was a terrible sign! A MOST TERREBLIS SIGNALIS!!!

Immediately, Papagoya called the Knights of the Hexagon Table: A7, Dwighter the Fighter, Squareface, ~~~~~~~>>>o, Fernando Sucre, The Palisadian, CoyBoy, Belle le Poissone, and myself. Unfortunately, of the KotHT, I was the only one not dead or sleeping. I quickly took my private business jet straight to the Island of Ishbu.

The flight was only 5 seconds. It was fast. Too fast. In fact, due to the incredibly high and unbearable velocity, my lungs imploded causing my rib cage to rupture and consequently crush my spleen and faligma nagilis. As you can imagine, the pain was incredibly bad. But, anyway, I digress....

As soon as I got to the island, I attended a meeting with Papagoya and the almight baboons of the strategic counsel to discuss the current conundrums. We decided to just take all the lemons and move as one cohesive unit to the Huihuizone.

Yea, yea, I know what you must all be thinking... and I'll admit it...
Yes, this was dangerous.
Yes, we could've all died and lost NuTang and xPPGY forever within the infinitely large Island of Ishbu.
Yes, I did get a new cell phone last weekend. I like it a lot. It's the Samsung t519.
Yes, I do not know how to use my phone, unfortunately.

But, despite all those yesses (sp?), the migration of data must go on.

Then it happened.

The migration of data began.

The beginning of this courageous journey was swift and easy. We were moving faster than the winds of Narnia and the sands of time combined. Then it happened.

We found the first baboon battalion. They had been completely massacred. It was brutal. The grass was painted red with baboon blood and baboon brains. I saw Yenakilagoya's legs hanging off a tall Oak tree, but where was the rest of his body? Amesaogoya was skinned alive and then his bones pulled out from beneath his muscles. Oh man, it was bad. It was soo bad. I couldn't bear it and began to throw up immediately. The worst part was the smell of warm blood still thick in the air.

After 24 seconds, we found and buried all the baboons from the first battalion but one. The body of Goyahoya was not with the others. We only found his legs. We sent out several search teams to find him. Finally, several nanoseconds later, his body was found.

He had crawled 3,098 miles from the slaughter site with his bare hands. When we found him, he looked barely recognizable. However, next to his body, written in blood, were the words "Fellow baboons beware, the--

Oh man, I can't bear to go on. Please forgive me. I need to rest and recover my emotions. I will publish another entry shortly to report the rest of how the migration of data went. Should you have any questions or concerns, please leave them as comments and I will try to address these issues in my comments, as well.

Plugs: Papagoya, Yenamaboya, Yeti

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I woke up this morning with a hundreds of tarantulas crawling out of my mouth. Not even thinking, I clenched my teeth and bit into the crunchy shells of at least a half dozen of these monsters. The taste of tarantula poison, one of the most dangerous chemicals known to man, quickly filled my mouth. It was quite acrid and bitter. I felt like I bit into crunchy taco filled with warm phlegm.

Needless to say, I was about to barf. However, using the chi that I had developed through years of training, I calmed myself down and proceeded to take my morning piss (to piss out the viscous tarantula poison).

I was quite delighted. "A mouthful of tarantulas," Confucious once said, "is a good omen."

I then went to throw out the trash. Please observe.

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I have come across an incredibly baffling mystery. Or is this magic? I will let you, imaginary reader, be the judge of that.

It seems that when I cook, despite reproducing the exact steps my mom uses, my food comes out to look incredibly ugly. (Taste-wise, it also is quite lacking--typically quite bland.) I am quite confused, as I had followed the exact same steps. See example....

My food:


Intended result:


I must do some research to get to the bottom of this. I already have a hunch that it has to do with the molecular bipolepsic peptide RNA fragmentations indigenous to the Californian oxyglobinous air frametations, but we will see.

As the famous food scientist Confoodius once said, "So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last days of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by when they're busy making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost barely enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door."

Plugs: dave, nutang, myself

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As a desperate means to generate a secondary source of income, I decided to start even more worthless sites. Check 'em out dud0rs!

OurOddWorld.com
Check out weird news from around the world. There's currently an PPS opportunity promotion for this site. Check here.

SEO-Forum.org
This is a double first... my first forum-only site.. and the first site I ever bought. It cost me 20 whoppin' big ones -- damn, I had to sell a lot of sperm to make that juicy money.

RapScoops.com
This is actually run by my bro, Dean. Download instrumentals, watch music videos, and more! It's kinda like the rap analog of RockThirst.com.

RememberAllThat.com
This site is essentially empty right now, but feel free to submit stuff to it.

After visiting those sites, if you still want to waste your life, check out my other sites: AUDIOcious (podcasts directory), HiBOT (flash games and movies), Tabpole (guitar tabs search engine), RockThirst (rock news and downloads), IceMelon (PHP tutorials and stuff), Google (my shitty hobby site).

Man... posting this entry makes me realize that I have too much free time. It reminds of a story I heard when I was only as tall as a grasshopper.

My friend, Running Deer, would bring me by the brook and have the chestnut tree tell me the stories of his old days of glory. One of his stories stuck with me all these years. It's essentially a fable.

Once upon a time ago, there was a cheetah that ran faster than the winds of fortune. He would run past the bear and tell the bear to go screw himself. One day, the bear cried, but the cheetah kept on running. He ran so far and so fast that he disappeared into the horizon. No one ever saw him again. Three months later, all his possessions, including his collection of DVDs, were then distributed amongst the community of wildlife.

The lesson? If you run forever, you will disappear and lose all your life's possessions. Therefore, don't waste your life running like the cheetah that ran faster than the winds of fortune.

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