Despite the flawless plans contrived by several senile bastards to ruin me, I am still alive and breathing. This week has been quite painful. I've spent over 20 hours debugging an "unpipelined" processor, which resulted in several side effects such as the metamorphosis of the brain into a sponge, among other almost unspeakable things.

I learned a lot this week. First, I realized that I usually have no idea what I'm talking about it or, for thta matter, what other people are talking about it. Also, the remainder of -7 divided by 3 is not the same as 7 divided by -3 (just remember, you thera, the sign of the remainder and the sign of the dividend are the same). And lastly, I've learned that life, like a dead butterfly drowned in bacteria laying on the asphalt on a hot, dry summer mid-afternoon, is brittle. This came to me when I saw a squirrel commit suicide by jumping into the gorge around 9 in the morning. Nameless squirrel, I'm sure your life must have been difficult.

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Time sure flies when you stick dead anchovies into the shell of a sleeping turtle. It's already senior year—of college!!

So, today was the first day of classes. It always irks me to see the freshmen roaming the campus with the air of optimism and ambition. It just makes me wanna fill their brand new northface backups with eraser shavings.

Well, 1 day down, don't know how many more to go..
I need to buy some groceries and rent a fridge-micr0wave set..
I'm hungry..
I could fight against a hyena for food right about now....

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Llamanama seemed to be the perfect place, a true utopia. But, soon after my arrival, I learned that all this was nothing more than a mirage hiding the terrible reality that was soon to present itself in the dead of the night.

That night, I woke up to a terrible shriek, one so loud that it triggered several moonquakes. Still dazed and groggy, I stepped outside—onto a severed head! Poor Telemachos. It was clear; we were under attack.

As a survivor explained to me the morning after, each night the predators and aliens prey on their civilization.

And so, for the past couple weeks, I've been carefully hunting down these two evil tribes. Through brute force, I have killed off 2048 of them, including the alien tribe's queen Neferlinka.

So anyway, I've taken a break. My back hurts and my nipples bleed profusely every morning when I urinate. School starts in about two weeks, so it's time to make my way back to upstate NY. Soon, I will be learning about how things work again..

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The journey oversea turned out to last much longer than 15 hours, and on the fourth night after we set sail, I became a bit agitated. I had already questioned the captain several times as to why the trip was taking so long, but he deftly avoided providing me with substantial answers.

On my way to question him once more—this time set on obtaining some satisfactory answers, our dinghy met a dark and menacing ship. It was a pirate ship. Well, so it turned out that our captain had sold out his tribe (MCT, as you remember). These pirates, part of the Walrus Tooth Tribe (WTT), had been paid by the king of Mountain Eyes Tribe (MET) to murder me. (Why? I may explain that in another entry.)

And so, a mighty battle ensued. The Californians, though wusses at heart, fought a brave battle by my side. We fought for 4 days and 5 nights straight without breathing through our mouths, and I'd say 40,000 men had perished in this time. We had caused much commotion&mash;so much so, in fact, that we had awakened the great leviathan (Azumoria) from his thousand year slumber.

Azumoria stirred up the entire ocean, exploding the WTT's pirate ship, killing all its men, and killing my remaining comrades. My ribs shattered, my skull melted, and my legs turned into roses. I was on the brink of death, and all I could taste was blood and salty water.

In such an extreme situation, any sensible person would've just drowned himself to spare the pain. But I had never considered myself a sensible person! Mustering up the last of my femto-strength particles, I replaced my broken bones with those taken from the dead corpses drifting by.

Sometime after then I must've fallen unconscious, because the next thing I knew, I was lying naked on the shores of Llamanama. In my childhood, I have heard tales of this mysterious land, where camel humps are made of cheese and wood is 98% sugar. They say once you reach this land, you will never want to leave. Well, we will see, I guess; and I'll let you know of everything that happens here.

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So for the past month, I've been feverishly fighting crime. "The case of the missing squirrels" seemed to trigger a whaleful of interesting new cases, none of which stopped short of amazing. "The case of the lost leopards," "the case of the stolen genitalia," "the case of the camaflouged ghosts," the list just spews on.

Anyway, my fame and reputation quickly spread throughout the lands and certainly preceded me by thousands of kilometres. And so, two mornings ago, a courier from the Maroon California Tribe (MCT) came to my office.

"Our king is in need of your service. A giant has arrived and he has been eating our men and livestock. Our women are now without husbands, and our king without turkey. We desperately need your help and will pay you with our pride" he stammered.

"Speak no more!" I said. "Your distress is my comfort, but, nonetheless, I will help you. Lead the way!"

Since that conversation, I have been travelling with the warriors of MCT. We've just set sail off the coast of Manimalia. According to the Californians, the entire trip should take no more than 15 hours.

The Californians have been quite gracious to me, feeding me owl nuts and dried snake skin. They are a beautiful tribe, and it does worry me much to know that a giant is eating their people. The vessel we are setting sail on is a giant dinghy, so it is cramped to say the least. However, 8 warriors have already drowned themselves in the waters to allow me more room. Plus, there is internet access, so I can't really complain.

I will let you know of my success!

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I started work this week, down in the small, quaint town of Mosquitoes of Poison. To tell you the truth, I don't even know what state it's in. But, if you keep heading south, this is the only town located beyond the Mountain of No Return.

So, anyway, I'm working now as the sheriff of this town. Being the mighty warrior as I obviously am, I feel this job suits me quite well. The first two days went by painfully slow. I must've drank 4 gallons of "old-fashioned lemonade" (aka: dead horse's urine), as there was literally nothing else to do.

On Wednesday, though, at 7 in the evening, after mostly everyone had already gone to bed, a courier from the Orange Squirrel Tribe barged into my doors. He reported that 1023 warriors from his tribe had disappeared within the last 24 minutes. Then, he promptly vanished into thin air, thus increasing the missing count to 1024.

After hours of brilliant detective work, I finally traced this mystery to Gellibooma, the 8-stomached giant hog. Of course, that sly bastard denied everything. He even retorted with such lame lines like "You are accusing me with absolutely no evidence!" Well, duh, I thought, of course I have no evidence. I'm not a fl00ging magician.

Well, in any case, I proceeded to repeatedly smash its head with a basketball-sized rock until all the flesh became a pink, pasty substance (kinda like melted strawberry ice cream). Lo and behold, stored in his stomachs were the missing squirrels. I then hypothesized he held the squirrels captive in his stomach so they would eventually ferment into the nectar of invisibility.

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