They are only replaced by clones...

The clones look different at first, but a mystical force morphs them into the exact thing they replaced....

The only people that should be in a council should be people who don't want to be there.

I know!

"Meet the new boss... Same as the old boss" - Pete Townshend

You will get fooled again... and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

necrophilia (Are there any female ones? How would that work? Where do they find mates? Do some like them fresh and some a bit aged? Is rigor mortis ever a problem or does that get them off more? Do some have certain fetishes flavored toward how the victims die? As silly as it sounds, I would be totally okay with someone dogging my corpse. I certainly won't have to live through it and for all anyone knows they'll get hepetitus or something. They wont have to break into a morgue or dig someone up or beat anyone to a crime scene. Of course I'm going to donate all of my organs so they would have to do the work while my meat sack is being supported by machine).

Dieing alone, and how I'm bound to.

I should write my essay. The rough draft is due in 2 hours and I haven't even started it. Yesterday my english comp/rhet professor said he found it disturbing that I didnt know what the assignment was which is due tomorrow, which I thought was an interesting word choice because things I find disturbing are like midgets throwing up on infants while riding horses diguised as unicorns, where one midget is tugging on a rope tied to the horse's penis while he stands in front of it, punching it in the face as hard as he can. Except instead of midgets maybe they're gypsies because there is nothing wrong with midgets, but dude f**k gypsies. My brother lived in a very secluded resort for a few years when he ran away and he basically lived with gypsies and all they care about is money and themselves, money coming first. Still, I kind of long to run away to live with gypsies because that would be f**king awesome. To learn their gypsy ways and such.

How horrible it is to live in an age where no one stops to look around. Most of the people in my philosophy class are middle aged middle class people who are going through their mid-life crisis and took the class because they are wondering why they aren't happy despite being "successful," and despite this dilemma most of them still can't see what socrates or heidegger were on about, speaking of being unrooted as human beings, chasing what they are running away from their entire lives until the day of their death bed. It appears I'm the only person who looks up or ant-watches.

Recommended reading: "The Curse of the Smalls and the Stars" by Fritz Leiber, one of the moody, dreamlike adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. I forget which collection(s) it's in.

I am thinking I'm glad I finally made a very short Cat5 cable to go from the router to the switch, and a longer one to go over into the office to connect a formerly isolated chunk of the Ellis Labs LAN. And that I'm glad there's no more crawl-space crawling to do today.

[edit] Ah, the story appears in "The Knight and Knave of Swords." Ask for it at your library and get readin'.

"crap - it's 2:04 and I have stuff to do tomorrow morning"

My thinking faculties shut down about an hour an a half ago. Should have been in bed for an hour, then.

Groet, Erik

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack and you may find yourself in another part of the world and you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife and you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?

Omelette... du... fromaaaaage!

Just Du It!

Groet, Erik

bright light is the true enemy of hungover man

deez nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutz

my butt itches

I hope I posted, this. With propper spelling: "and" punctuation?

I think I'm about to become famous