<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:03:00.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Four-Legged Moose</title><subtitle type='html'>Thoughtmeats, randomosities, and other nonsense.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-7644145491447160055</id><published>2010-05-19T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T21:11:56.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Tales of the Weird</title><content type='html'>As the title indicates, tonight's short post centers on the magazine Weird Tales. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://weirdtales.net/wordpress/wp-content/themes/options/images/masthead.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Founded in 1923, Weird Tales has featured the work of those artists and writers whose focus lies in the area of the abnormal, often terrifying world of "weird fiction". Sci-fi, horror, mystery, etc. Weird Tales has published stories in genres across the spectrum for nearly a century. Though dismantled from 1954-1970s/80s, the magazine has been revived numerous times, and seems to be rising in popularity and commercial success moreso as of late. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I recently discovered the Weird Tales &lt;a href="http://weirdtales.net/wordpress/"&gt;official website&lt;/a&gt;, which led me to discover that it was still in publication. I have admired the magazine for quite a while because of its publishing of some of my favourite authors, namely &lt;a href="http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-95-fucking-degrees.html"&gt;H.P. Lovecraft&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suggest anyone who calls themself a fan of weird fiction, sci-fi, horror, or even just Lovecraft fans, check out the site AND possibly buy themselves a subscription (this &lt;a href="http://www.wildsidepress.com/product.asp?itemid=3527"&gt;trial pack&lt;/a&gt; is a pretty good deal for those not sure they want to subscribe).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 394px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.wildsidepress.com/thumbnail.asp?file=assets/images/weirdtales355.jpg&amp;amp;maxx=300&amp;amp;maxy=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will be looking into submitting some of my fiction work to the magazine, as I have been exploring different outlets for publication this summer. Above all, I am happy to see that such a monumental magazine has survived to this day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-7644145491447160055?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/7644145491447160055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/weird-tales-of-weird.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7644145491447160055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7644145491447160055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/weird-tales-of-weird.html' title='Weird Tales of the Weird'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-7838364730687759732</id><published>2010-05-17T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T06:37:08.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signspottings</title><content type='html'>Today's post is going to be a semi-short one, because I have to go to the store and buy hamburger meat before I go to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I would like to introduce you to the world of &lt;a href="http://www.signspotting.com/"&gt;Signspotting.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was something I was introduced to by my younger brother, who has a fondness for humourous books and such. It's a series of books filled with pictures of funny, strange, or just plain wrong signs from around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of these signs feature ridiculous translations from their native language to English, though not always because the people of the region cannot translate. English is a pretty wacky language in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The books can be found at Barnes and Noble and other bookstores, and, for those of you who don't ever leave your couch, can also be purchased online (Amazon, eBay, whatever you want).&lt;br /&gt;And for those of you who are really cheap and don't want to buy their own copy (like me), you can go to the &lt;a href="http://www.signspotting.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; and look at some signs there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm off to buy some cow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-7838364730687759732?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/7838364730687759732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/signspottings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7838364730687759732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7838364730687759732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/signspottings.html' title='Signspottings'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-5401459180266276432</id><published>2010-05-14T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T20:00:33.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can See Russia From My House</title><content type='html'>I have rediscovered an old love from way back in 2008. Think back to November of that year, and the months preceeding it. That election that everyone is still talking about. Everyone in America that is; I can tell you that there are a few billion Chinese people who probably couldn't care less. There are probably even some Norwegian mountain-men that have no idea who Barack Obama is. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Regardless of my political views, I have a very open mind and was delighted to find numerous websites springing up around election time that, while initially aimed at bashing Obama/McCain/Ronald McDonald, served to provide me with endless hours of amusement. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favourite of these, and the topic of tonight's bloggposssttt, was &lt;a href="http://www.barackobamaeatsbabies.com/"&gt;Obama Eats Babies&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 169px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471322449344173074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-4Kx4THlBI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5Jol9cGXVR8/s320/eatbabies1.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, my friends, that is Sarah Palin holding up a wee lil' bee-baby to the left of that Obama-head with the creepy look.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The web-game is simple: click on Palin to throw a baby into the giant disembodied Obama head's mouth. When you throw it, Sarah pipes up with "eskimos" "Russia" "you betcha" or another word/phrase in that Palinesque accent we've all grown to love (or hate). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I managed to get a huge combo of "Russia"s, which was funny in itself, but augmented by the fact that I was also watching a video of Soviet soldiers dancing. Sarah knows what you do when you're online, folks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471325187241887442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-4NRPwzRtI/AAAAAAAAADA/Gof4EX9Ts80/s320/babies2.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are other little details you might notice as you're tossing babies to the disembodied Obamahead, which prompts you with "MORE!" and "BABIES!" as you throw the little ones to their doom. Did you notice the baby with Hilary Clinton's face? How about the McCain baby?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471325870113445922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-4N4_qEWCI/AAAAAAAAADI/JTz0JWez1_g/s320/byebyehilary.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bring this to you not so you can judge it or me for favouring it. I am not promoting an "anti-Obama" stance by sharing this with you. I don't think that the creators of the game even wanted to promote that type of idea. It's supposed to be funny, and if you can't take a joke, then I feel sorry for you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(By the way, what type of accent does Palin have anyways?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-5401459180266276432?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/5401459180266276432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-can-see-russia-from-my-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/5401459180266276432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/5401459180266276432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-can-see-russia-from-my-house.html' title='I Can See Russia From My House'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-4Kx4THlBI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5Jol9cGXVR8/s72-c/eatbabies1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-288085415924006980</id><published>2010-05-10T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T19:28:35.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Postrant: Store Reward Cards</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;See, whoever told you that I'd be sticking to a schedule of blog-posting (me) was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Today I rant about stores who try to persuade you to sign up for their "INSERT STORE NAME HERE"&lt;br /&gt;BONUS CARD! Why? Because they bug me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yes, I'm sure that if you have done any sort of shopping that is not via the internet, you have probably encountered these situations too. However, I've had enough of it. I don't even want to go in stores anymore because I'm so tired of it. Let me illustrate my reasoning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469830532915624786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-i946gFe1I/AAAAAAAAACo/jBcW6ilot84/s320/bubl-showing_drawing_to_ed.gif" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;There, I illustrated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost every time I go to a store, be it a clothing store, shoe store, gadget store, pet store, whatever, I am first greeted by four or five people asking me if they can be of any assistance. While this does make me a bit uncomfortable, it's tolerable, and I usually politely tell each person that no, I'm fine, I'm just looking, as I gradually make my way through the store. Then, as I reach my destination, I am often greeted by another employee (who knew tiny little stores could employ so many people in these tough times?) asking me if I want a basket to hold my things or if they can start a fitting room for me. I usually decline, on the grounds that 1. There's no way in hell I will EVER buy enough of something from a specialty store to need a basket, and 2. I hate trying on clothes. By the time I finally get what I want/need and make my way up to the checkout queue (yes, I say queue, get over it) I am so thouroughly irritated with the store that I just want to pay for my items and run away screaming as fast as I can. Then comes the tip of the iceberg. As I place my items in front of the register, the employee ringing them up starts with, "And did you find everything alright? Good. Now, do you have a "INSERT STORE NAME HERE" Bonus Rewards Card? You don't? Well do you want to sign up for one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk90/HouseSavvy/Spring%202008/Rewardscardimage-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I do not. Generally, with any store that is not Target, Publix, or another chain-megastore, I do not shop there enough to get any real reward from using one of these cards that racks up "points" for each thing you buy there. Places such as American Eagle Outfitters, ULTA, etc, I usually only visit a couple of times a year, and only buy things ONCE a year if that; why would I need a card for a store I don't shop at? However, when I tell the employee this, as politely as possible mind you, they usually counter with, "Oh well you could always use the rewards from the card whenever you DO come in, they don't expire."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that would be nice if I had a computer and a printer glued to my ass, so that when I do spontaneously decide I need a new cardigan/eyeliner sharpener/other I can log onto my email and print out that AWSUM coupon I got from the rewards program. I get to save 10% on an already-overpriced item, yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 281px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469832468138567266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-i_pjxMJmI/AAAAAAAAACw/E_1oV9W61_s/s320/41Fg8q0sLPL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'll use this to glue the computer and printer to my ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Then there are the "sign up for our credit card and get a free t-shirt/ten dollar giftcard/tub of Parkay" stores, but I won't even get into that. They generally leave you alone after you say "no" the first time, unlike the rewards card people who just keep GOING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not trying to bust your balls, specialty stores. I have to do the same sort of "suggestive selling" in my job EVERY DAY. But the difference is that I work at a resturaunt, and we sell food. Food benefits you NOW, not three months from now when you finally get your coupons printed out and bring them in to the store. I offer cookies with your meal so that you can buy them and give them to your kids that are running around the dining room. But I understand that, if you are an employee of said establishment that pushes their "service" on you every time you walk in the door, it is only your job to do so. Yes, I know you really don't want to be annoying, but that doesn't change the fact that you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one of the CEOs of AE or ULTA (or Icing. Please let it be Icing! I miss shopping there.) will read this and realize that they are LOSING cutomers because of their service policies, and they will change them. Then I'll shop there again. Until then, I'll stick with online shopping or Target. I love you, Target.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-288085415924006980?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/288085415924006980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/postrant-store-reward-cards.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/288085415924006980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/288085415924006980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/postrant-store-reward-cards.html' title='Postrant: Store Reward Cards'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-i946gFe1I/AAAAAAAAACo/jBcW6ilot84/s72-c/bubl-showing_drawing_to_ed.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-8846917774254093865</id><published>2010-05-03T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T19:25:37.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S 95 FUCKING DEGREES</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yes it's that time of year again. The time when I complain about the heat every waking moment of the day, all the while laying on my couch and refusing to turn ther air down out of sheer laziness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It is also the time of the year when I get a lot more time on my hands, and thus decide to do something extremely time consuming (and usually stupid). So, for the remainder of the summer, I have decided that every other day I will post a different blog centering on something that interests me. Be it a book, a person, an art style, a movie, a fictional army colonel, a pair of socks, a bee, etc, etc, the theme possibilities are infinite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today begins the first of the posts, and the theme is Lovecraft, because I'm reading Lovecraft and because I feel like typing words about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c98/Droneerievil/Lovecraft-and-Felis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howard Phillips Lovecraft was an American writer of the early 20th century whose stories, "The Call of Cthulhu", "At The Mountains of Madness", "The Colour Out Of Space", etc, have held a massive cult following since the 1940's. Though generally thought of as a horror/science fiction writer, Lovecraft's gothic tales often feature a keen, psychological horror, rather than an intrepid, obvious threat. That being said, his themes often center around what &lt;em&gt;may be&lt;/em&gt; instead of &lt;em&gt;what is&lt;/em&gt;. There are also beasties. Wonderful, grotesque beasties such as Cthulhu, the Shub-Niggurath, Nyarlathotep (probably misspelled that), freakish fish-people etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467976769044713282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-In5p7_j0I/AAAAAAAAACY/ETSw89Ci3wk/s320/sal-innsmouth.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Lovecraft has a massive cult following (and probably an actual &lt;strong&gt;cult&lt;/strong&gt; somewhere up in Rhode Island...) and there have been numerous adaptations of his works; movies, comics, socks, etc, not to mention works directly influenced by dear ol' Lovecrafty (including &lt;a href="http://zudacomics.com/node/1839"&gt;ELDRITCH&lt;/a&gt;!, the comic I was pimping out for nearly a month).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467975812462525442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-InB-ZBvAI/AAAAAAAAACQ/unotRPzjGQQ/s320/Lovecraft-lol.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Did you know that Lovecraft was also a Scrabble master?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Though there have been criticisms of his work on all levels of the critic-sphere, I for one haven't found a single piece of literature by H.P. Lovecraft that I dislike. My own comic and writing style has been profoundly influenced by my personal favourites, namely "The Colour Out Of Space", "At The Mountains Of Madness". This is one of the reasons why, when I happened upon &lt;a href="http://www.die-farbe.com/index.htm"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; I was absolutely thrilled. "Die Farbe" (German for "The Colour") is a 2010 film based on "The Colour Out Of Space", and though it is only one of many movie adaptations of Lovecraft's works, it is the newest adaptation that I have found, so it should be interesting to see what the World of 2010 does with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those interested in the realms of H.P. Lovecraft, I suggest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.ectomo.com/"&gt;ECTOPLASMOSIS!&lt;/a&gt; A site dedicated to strange ephemera, particularly that oftentimes related to Lovecraft or Lovecraftean art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.hplovecraft.com/"&gt;The H.P. Lovecraft Archive&lt;/a&gt; Exactly what it sounds like. Site for everything Lovecraft; info, books, movies, etc, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.cthulhulives.org/toc.html"&gt;Cthulhu Lives!&lt;/a&gt; Also known as the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society. Information, merchandise, etc. Buy me a sticker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post a comment if you want more links. I'm tired. I have to get up at 4am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, there's oil on our shores! Does this mean all the tourists will go home? Not that I go to the beaches anyways, but it would be nice to be able to drive through them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more posts; I guarantee they will be better than this one. I just can't go that far into the Lovecraft-ness without writing a full-blown research/autobiographical paper, and seeing as I just finished doing five of those, I'm not exactly interested in doing so right now. Tomorrow's theme will be: MUSIC?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467975067248817298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-ImWmQO9JI/AAAAAAAAACI/txRtbjMdJnY/s320/rightmer-spawn-scaled.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-8846917774254093865?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/8846917774254093865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-95-fucking-degrees.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/8846917774254093865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/8846917774254093865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-95-fucking-degrees.html' title='IT&apos;S 95 FUCKING DEGREES'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/S-In5p7_j0I/AAAAAAAAACY/ETSw89Ci3wk/s72-c/sal-innsmouth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-1063924495240718895</id><published>2010-04-14T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:01:23.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons Why I Never Get Anything Done</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;(Hey, before you read, make sure you go to &lt;a href="http://zudacomics.com/node/1839"&gt;http://zudacomics.com/node/1839&lt;/a&gt; and vote for ELDRITCH!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, really, the title explains itself.&lt;br /&gt;What exactly prompted me to explain this often-encountered dilemma of The Life of Dee? Absolutely nothing, probably. Maybe. I don’t know. All I was doing was sitting in front of my glaring computer monitor eating an ungodly amount of cheap Mexican candy, when that little bug called ‘INSPIRATION’ smacked right into the screen on my computer. So, after wiping it off and thoroughly Windex-ing my screen, I decided to give a little explanation of the top reasons I never get anything done (until the last minute). I will start by giving an example of recent procrastination revolving around writing a paper on JFK’s foreign policy (YAY, HISTORY!). Because we all know you really want to know what I do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:00pm: Decide to work on paper. Pull up rough draft, read over.&lt;br /&gt;5:01pm: Read over paper again. Think. Type words.&lt;br /&gt;5:05pm: Start iTunes, put on random music (Currently listening to: Phish).&lt;br /&gt;5:06pm: Look for snacks. If any found, eat snacks. (Note: It’s a rare occasion that I don’t have snacks, but usually if I don’t I’ll make a quick run to 7-11 for some at this point.)&lt;br /&gt;5:10pm: Type more, rewrite previous sentences, glare at them for a minute, then decide to rewrite the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;5:30pm: First paragraph rewritten, decide to reward myself with GIANT CUP OF BIG RED.&lt;br /&gt;(Notice at this point I’m still not online. Just wait, it gets worse.)&lt;br /&gt;5:31pm: Mess with keys on keyboard. Spill soda on floor, panic, soak it up with pants.&lt;br /&gt;5:32pm: Write first two sentences of second paragraph. Forget which president JFK was, decide to look it up on Wikipedia. (He was 35th, by the way.)&lt;br /&gt;5:33pm: Search “dancing Soviets” on Google, watch hilarious video of USSR soldiers dancing. Laugh, giggle, cause Big Red to shoot out my nose. (Hey! I’m watching “reds” and drinking Big Red! Coincidence, or CONSPIRACY?!)&lt;br /&gt;5:38pm: Retweet link to dancing Soviets on Twitter, giggle.&lt;br /&gt;5:40pm: Go to StumbleUpon. Now begins the Armageddon of my productivity.&lt;br /&gt;6:40pm: Retweet “HILARIOUS” website from Stumble. More internet.&lt;br /&gt;7:40pm: Stand up, walk around, try to restore blood flow to lower limbs. Watch stupid commercials on YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;8:20pm: Finally go to bathroom after waiting for hours.&lt;br /&gt;8:25pm: Type another sentence.&lt;br /&gt;8:35pm: Watch the commercial of John Lydon selling butter.&lt;br /&gt;8:40pm: Check Facebook, delete 40 new messages, become fan of group “LOLOLOLOL I JUST ATE A STICK OF BUTTER”&lt;br /&gt;9:00pm: Watch Foamy The Squirrel cartoons, giggle.&lt;br /&gt;9:30pm: Order pizza, groan for the next 35 minutes that it’s “NOT THAT HARD TO MAKE A GODDAMN PIZZA, WHY THE FUCK THEY GOTTA TAKE FOREVER TO GET HERE WHILE MAH BELLY IS EATIN’ ITSELF”.&lt;br /&gt;9:35pm: Make macaroni and cheese, eat it, then remember I ordered pizza.&lt;br /&gt;10:30pm: Pass out on the couch from eating too much pizza.&lt;br /&gt;11:00pm: Drag my massive pizza-inflated buttocks off the couch, grumble about how “I really need to get this paper done.”&lt;br /&gt;11:10pm: Watch Dr. Tran videos.&lt;br /&gt;11:45pm: Write another sentence. Get more snacks; not for eating, but for surrounding myself with in order to make my SNACKFORT.&lt;br /&gt;12:00am: Encyclopedia Dramatica. Oh God, I’ve reverted back to acting like I did in high school.&lt;br /&gt;12:45am: Watch FLCL.&lt;br /&gt;1:45am: Start drawing comic about a man with no legs, then realize it looks like an episode of The Oblongs. Scribble out comic, draw Michael Phelps eating crayons instead.&lt;br /&gt;2:00am: Go to the FC-Bayern site, deciding that I’m “finally going to buy that jersey”.&lt;br /&gt;2:10am: Decide to buy 5-pound box of Haribo frogs instead. Giggle manically as I imagine the UPS man delivering a huge box of gummi frogs.&lt;br /&gt;2:30am: Eat SNACKFORT. Rebuild it with snack wrappers as SNACK ISLAND.&lt;br /&gt;2:35am: HUGO STIGLITZ.&lt;br /&gt;2:36am: Pass out on computer keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;9:00am: Wake up, frantically manage to get a shower, write the rest of the paper, and not run into any walls in the process.&lt;br /&gt;10:30am: Rush to class, vowing that I will write the paper sooner next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, I am A HUGE PROCRASTINATOR. But it’s not all my fault. No, I’m not “ADHD” or whatnot, but I do like to be distracted from things I’m not interested in doing. Really, it’s nothing against JFK, but I dreaded doing that paper all semester.&lt;br /&gt;Thus I come to the conclusion that I will NOT be productive if allowed anywhere near my favourite distractions, which include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. THE INTERNET &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 357px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 390px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i838.photobucket.com/albums/zz303/the_boo_is_evil/internethighfive.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;High-five, Internet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet is a terrible, terrible place. Former U.S. president George W. Bush once described it as a “series of tubes”, and to be honest, anything described like that would terrify me. Thus why I never take the underground/subway/U-Bahn. But in all seriousness, the internet it probably the number one reason nothing gets done around here, whether it be writing an essay on JFK’s foreign policy or cleaning my couch (which, believe me, is quite a project). Though I like to think I've grown as a person, I oftentimes find myself giggling like a maniac over the massive amount of crap on the interwebs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. SNACKS &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 357px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 390px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp191/apuleuis/SDC10074.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;What exactly is this?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not THE Snacks. This is referring to ACTUAL snackfoods you eat; not a person.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, snacking is another thing that prevents me from getting anything done. Or rather, the pursuit of snacks. I can never seem to find THE RIGHT SNACK when I want it. For instance, right now I really want Funyuns, but I have none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s really it. Right now, at least. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;And to further my immaturity...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU JUST LOST THE GAME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'M ALMOST DONE WITH CLASSES. For the time being, at least. I can't even begin to express how happy I am. I think I might cry.&lt;br /&gt;This not only means I have more time to SLEEP (one of my favourite hobbies) but also that I have more time to DRAW. Expect new artworkstuff and comics by sometime in summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It won't all be fun and games, though, because this summer I am MOVING. Yay, yay, bla bla bla and all that. Expect long absences from the internet due to travelling and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-1063924495240718895?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/1063924495240718895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/04/reasons-why-i-never-get-anything-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/1063924495240718895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/1063924495240718895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/04/reasons-why-i-never-get-anything-done.html' title='Reasons Why I Never Get Anything Done'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-3853247201107375132</id><published>2010-03-08T12:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T12:46:45.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Creepylurkygirl and Noodles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Sup? Yes, this is the real Dee, the living, breathing Dee, here to discuss proof of my continued existence despite being away from the internets for some long period of time. In truth, I was never gone, simply hiding, lurking in the shadows, as is my nature. See, I am one of the last remaining beings from the ancient culture once known as CREEPY LURKY KID.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i742.photobucket.com/albums/xx69/Captain_Tripudio/creepygirlandbread.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Lurkygirl loves bread and jam!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I intended to postpone my return to the immaterial world until I had something actually WORTHWHILE to post about, however it appears this did not suit the internet monster and, after having it bite my leg off above the knee, I am here to post about some RANDOM SHIT THAT INTERESTS ME. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And, because I am hungry, I have decided to dedicate this post to FOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Fact: Did you know that in WWI &amp;amp; WWII they used REAL carrier pigeons to transport messages sometimes? Not fake pigeons, but REAL ones. The word "REAL" is in all-caps to emphasize the REAL-ness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anywho, yes, I am still alive and drawing horrendously deformed blobbythings that serve the sole purpose of amusing me as I doodle them at 3am-ish after watching really bad TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And speaking of hideous blobbythings, I have found a new possible favourite show that I feel the need to promote on my seldom-read blog. It is so called "ADVENTURE TIME WITH FINN AND JAKE" and it is also written in all-caps to emphazise its important place in my life. Not because it's all that great of a show, necessarily, but because of the art style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 487px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 364px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/b/b4/Adventure_time_lincoln.PNG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Adventure Time...with Abe Lincoln!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It's hard for me not to love the idea of something with such a quirky style; quirky being code for "not bulbous and bulgy in the way most cartoon-styles I've seen on TV are". Don't get me wrong, it's still a cartoon, but it has a signature style about it that makes me giggle. So, even though I don't get Cartoon Network in my area, I will be attending private viewings of this show at Cinema du YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In other news, I am making noodles. Not just any noodles, but käsespätzle, the food that has kept me alive for the past week while I was slugging around on Spring Break. So, I will leave you with an image of what I am eating, as you sit there with your bag of Doritos, cursing the fact that your mother never taught you to cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 410px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.deliciousdays.com/wp-content/themes/dd/images/2006-03-29/060328-kaesespaetzle11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The food of CHAMPIONS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-3853247201107375132?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/3853247201107375132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/03/creepylurkygirl-and-noodles.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/3853247201107375132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/3853247201107375132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2010/03/creepylurkygirl-and-noodles.html' title='Creepylurkygirl and Noodles'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-7124390543623320619</id><published>2009-10-25T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T11:40:48.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweater Song</title><content type='html'>I bought a really warm sweater today, and immediatly upon leaving the store I purchased it in I became depressed, because I realised that I probably won't have a chance to wear it for a while. It's so fucking hot here. It's October, for the love of God! This is MY MONTH. Well no, actually, NOVEMBER is my month, but October is usually a good month too. But no, instead of a reasonable temperature/humidity I am given this sticky, sweaty...schlocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I purchased the month of November, making it MY MONTH. I was going to re-name it "SOOPERMONTH" or "TURKEYFEST" or something to do with cranberry sauce, but I decided "NOVEMBER" fits quite nicely indeed.&lt;br /&gt;I am actually looking forward to the next month more than this one. Yes, Halloween is "the best day of the year" according to my friends, but I'm really not into it this year. I personally think it's because I can never get into a holiday when it's hot outside. The heat saps my secret festivity reserves and turns me into a lazy mofo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND SPEAKING OF LAZY MOFOS....&lt;br /&gt;I am listening to Nirvana right now. That really has absolutely nothing to do with lazy mofos, but I'm sure you could make a correlation somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lucked out with my choice of courses for this semester, because I have NO MIDTERMS in any of my classes. So while my peers are running around trying to study for the first time in months, I get to sit upon a pile of thrones (not just a throne, a whole PILE of 'em) and watch in amusement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-7124390543623320619?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/7124390543623320619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweater-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7124390543623320619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7124390543623320619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweater-song.html' title='The Sweater Song'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-6499966095796456266</id><published>2009-09-11T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T08:46:51.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Candy and PAIN</title><content type='html'>Hang on, this is gonna be a big one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so it's been a while since I've updated this thing, yeah? By 'a while' I mean 'longer than a week'. And yes, anything longer than a week is a long time. Yes, because I said so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tempted to just lock myself in my house for the next week so I can actually do some work for ME for once. But I won't do this, no, because that wouldn't appease anyone, save MYSELF of course. I hate this. I am bawling like a baby now because I really want to finish a few projects I started back some-odd weeks ago, but instead I'm writing essays on 'WHAT I HOPE TO GAIN FROM THIS UNIVERSITY'. I hope to gain a giant, steel-toed boot, which I will promptly shove up the posterior of whomever devised such a stupid writing topic. I really want to watch Leprechaun, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not all bad in the world of all-you-can-eat cafeterias and thirty pound Calc. II books, though. I've finally managed to convince my peers in the Tuesday/Thursday BS class I have (which, by the way, is the one where the ridiculous writing topic came up) that I am a rabid, antisocial young lady who does not want to join in their conversations about whether or not they should go to ULTRA tomorrow night. Leave me to my note-taking and doodling. I am a nerd. And ULTRA is the worst club on the face of the planet, anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not antisocial, no, not at all. I just haven't got the will or the patience to hold up a conversation with most people, seeing as most peoples' conversations are incredibly stupid, in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever heard a portion of someone's conversation as they walked by and just thought to yourself, "What the fuck?"And afterwards, didn't you want to go shove your head in a blender? Exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other nooz, I am once again spamming up my Twitter page with links to ridiculously stupid/funny Youtube videos. I'm thinking of setting aside a special day every week to do this from now on, so everyone can get their fill of poop all at once.&lt;br /&gt;I have a strange obsession with finding these types of videos. It is an all-consuming obsession. If I had the ability to sleep like a normal person, I would have lost it after the first hundred-or-so videos. But I don't sleep anyways, so no problem there! Tally-ho, into the land of candy and PAIN!&lt;br /&gt;Only An'W would get that, so I'm not even going to bother explaining myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really interesting writing this...thing, seeing as the first half (more like 1/4th) was typed about a week before this portion was. Man was I pissy last week. Pissy pissy pissy. But now I'm HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY, because I have found the portal to the land of Candy and PAIN. But it's nice pain, not very hurty at all. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Let me end this paragraph right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I..was going to say something else. But I don't remember. I'll update this post later. For now, I'm out like a pregnant woman's belly-button.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-6499966095796456266?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/6499966095796456266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/09/candy-and-pain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6499966095796456266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6499966095796456266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/09/candy-and-pain.html' title='Candy and PAIN'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-6870148227195073770</id><published>2009-08-31T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T22:07:19.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.heyquiz.com/quiz/cat_kill"&gt;&lt;img alt="Is your cat plotting to kill you?" src="http://www.heyquiz.com/bimage/14_89.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And I don't even have a cat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Welcome, internet, to &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;DEE'S DAY IN REVIEW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Seeing as 'today' started about an hour ago, let's see what I've got so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;First off, we have the lovely 'IS YOUR CAT PLOTTING TO KILL YOU' quizzola at the top of the page. If you don't have a cat, just answer the questions as they pertain to someone else's cat, i.e., your neighbour, friend, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The site that hosts this quiz is &lt;a href="http://www.heyquiz.com/"&gt;HeyQuiz&lt;/a&gt;; for those of you into the whole quiz-thing, you may want to mosey on over there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now, nextly (Is that a word? Probably not.) we have lovely importantcies (also not a word) in the name of all that is sacred. Or maybe just in the name of this can of Beefaroni sitting next to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;According to my own knowledge, and the fountain of wisdom that is Wikipedia, today (meaning '1 SEPT' not '31 AUG') is the 35th anniversary of the birth of the lovely &lt;a href="http://www,questionsleep.com/"&gt;Mr. Scolex&lt;/a&gt; and his decadent thought processes. Now, as some of you may know, I'm not particularly fond of ANY holiday, including birthdays. However, seeing as I had a bit of free time last week, I doodled up a wee portrait of an alien, named Randolph, in a box, wrapped up all nice and purdy for High Inquisitor Vasquez and his Jolly Minions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Randolph can be found &lt;a href="http://twitpic.com/g1ym2"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and somewhere on my &lt;a href="http://synthase.deviantart.com/"&gt;deviantFart&lt;/a&gt; account. As with all of my art, you steal it, you suffer the wrath of the rabid shrews that live behind my wardrobe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And yes, Jhonen is lovely. In a demented, sick sort of way. But isn't that the best kind of lovely?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpypFnQepJI/AAAAAAAAACA/aYrUm1prIuY/s1600-h/Sarris2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376357969076069522" style="WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpypFnQepJI/AAAAAAAAACA/aYrUm1prIuY/s320/Sarris2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Sarris is quite lovely as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;AND NOW...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3jFTzhdZF4"&gt;I'VE GOT A BIG BAG OF CRABS HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That is all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as with all good things, this journal too must come to an end. Too. Tootoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This isn't me speaking, it's the shrews. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Pleasant daynightsleepthing, folks. I'll be up at dawn's asscrack, heading off to make sandwiches for all the crazy little old ladies in this part of the state.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Trust me; we have a lot of little old ladies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-6870148227195073770?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/6870148227195073770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-i-dont-even-have-cat-welcome.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6870148227195073770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6870148227195073770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-i-dont-even-have-cat-welcome.html' title=''/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpypFnQepJI/AAAAAAAAACA/aYrUm1prIuY/s72-c/Sarris2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-1159568331219906665</id><published>2009-08-29T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T20:35:39.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feedbacks</title><content type='html'>So, I'm sitting here watching this really dumpy movie on Syfy, when I happen to glance at the TV and see that one of the chicks is sitting on the beach reading Harry Potter. And that sends me into a giggling fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, folks. Seriously. Seriously seriously seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on a few things right now, one of which is a design for Infectious (which can be found &lt;a href="http://www.infectious.com/critique/kdee/phantasee/3989"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;) and I would be one super slap-happy monkey if you would head on over there and give me some feedback. Or just look at it until your brain explodes out of your skull or something.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as I do most of my painting with the body fluids of people who have exploded while looking at my stuff, I DO advise this. That stuff ain't cheap, ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALSO: I JUST WATCHED MEGA SHARK VS. GIANT OCTOPUS. That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D More later. Or maybe not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-1159568331219906665?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/1159568331219906665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/feedbacks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/1159568331219906665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/1159568331219906665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/feedbacks.html' title='Feedbacks'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-7086612185755485957</id><published>2009-08-23T12:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T19:21:55.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stanky College Kids</title><content type='html'>*I have left my doodles in at the bottom of this post. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I start today with a statement for you all:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;DEODORANT: IT'S A WAY OF LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now, my explanation as to WHY this is so important that I just HAD to share it with you, INTERNET PEOPLE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Have you ever been walking down a hallway, twiddling your thumbs and whistling a merry tune (maybe showtunes) when suddenly you were assaulted with a stench like that of a fat man's grave left open in the summer heat? Or maybe just something else really stinky? Probably so. This was the case at my school today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My immediate thought was, "Oh my God, someone must've left their Taco Bell under a chair and stepped on it with a dead rat and some rotten eggs." I quickly glanced around, surveying the area, looking for what could be causing the stench. I looked to my left, and no such luck. I looked to my right, and there was a really tiny squirrel outside the window, but nothing that could be causing the stink. Then I looked in front of me, and saw nothing but a girl with really heavy-looking sandals on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z240/bluishpig/280507%201B24%20School%20Uniform%20Day/DSC00182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 201px" alt="" src="http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z240/bluishpig/280507%201B24%20School%20Uniform%20Day/DSC00182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Look! This sandal has a shoe glued to the bottom of it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As I walked on, the stench grew stronger until I was swimming in an ocean of odour from no apparent source. Then a thought hit me, and to test this newfound theory, I walked a little brisker until I was right behind the sandal-girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bingo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What had I unveiled? A classic case of nasty college B.O., or as I prefer, 'Stanky Girl With No Sense of Personal Hygeine'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;IN SHORT, THE GIRL I WAS WALKING BEHIND ON THE WAY TO CLASS SMELLED LIKE SOMETHING HAD DIED IN HER HAIR WEEKS AGO AND SHE HADN'T FOUND OUT YET.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That's one of my biggest peeves: I hatehatehatehatehatex1000 bad hygeine. I don't care if you're a 'poor, starving college student' or not. Do you live in a box behind Best Buy? Do you have no arms or legs to wash your hair with? Exactly. Unless you're a hobo, or some horribly deformed amputee (or a combination of the two) with no way to wash yourself, you have no excuse. Trust me: Buying that bar of soap might not give you the immediate satisfaction that a super-sized box of Reeses Cups would, but it'll work out much better in the long run. Unless you plan on rubbing the peanut butter cups all over yourself; in that case, knock yourself out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i943.photobucket.com/albums/ad272/j3rr3my8/sweets-reeses-elvis1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px" alt="" src="http://i943.photobucket.com/albums/ad272/j3rr3my8/sweets-reeses-elvis1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;My krew rides wit' da banana creme, yo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On another note, I have rugburn on my elbow from riding a mechanical bull today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373244712771398738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpGZmPv8LFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/DAO4zCGZWVg/s320/IMG_0694.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Mm...toast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpGZPoEiG3I/AAAAAAAAABo/PEeIzrrlsDs/s1600-h/IMG_0737.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373244324163230578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpGZPoEiG3I/AAAAAAAAABo/PEeIzrrlsDs/s320/IMG_0737.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;My tribute to the King of Pop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373244506380539266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpGZaO4hlYI/AAAAAAAAABw/Hk_G303rwBI/s320/IMG_0795.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;What happened at last year's Christmas party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-7086612185755485957?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/7086612185755485957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/well.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7086612185755485957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/7086612185755485957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/well.html' title='Stanky College Kids'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i195.photobucket.com/albums/z240/bluishpig/280507%201B24%20School%20Uniform%20Day/th_DSC00182.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-3783995280986372938</id><published>2009-08-22T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T12:00:58.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inglourious</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpBPYFOtW_I/AAAAAAAAABg/kdS7BUTTQTc/s1600-h/IMG_0911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372881630592326642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpBPYFOtW_I/AAAAAAAAABg/kdS7BUTTQTc/s320/IMG_0911.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Worm-bees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am really starting to feel that lack of sleep I got last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But I did get to see Inglourious Basterds (there! I spelled it right!) in all it's three-hour-long glory. It was surprisingly good for such a long movie; normally anything over two hours just can't hold my interest. Which isn't to say IB wasn't without it's flaws; I would say there was a &lt;em&gt;little&lt;/em&gt; too much exposition for my liking, especially in the early 'chapters'. I'm not saying it was chock-full of unneeded exposition either; I won't deny that all of the (numerous) early details were definately necessary for the final outcome. I just don't like exposition very much, needed or not. I prefer the story to unfold quietly save for a few soundtrack fiestas throughout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed the music in the movie. I have always liked the music Quentin Tarantino chooses for his movies, and this one was no exception. I am listening to 'Un Amico' right now, in fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Drawing a lot of octopi right now for some reason. I'm a little miffed because of the events of today's open house at CLHS. That combined with the frustration of scheduling at FGCU is driving me mad. On top of that, I brought the wrong sketchbook with me today, and thus haven't been able to draw anything save for some doodles. The worm-bees, though, were drawn a while ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I just...need to relieve some frustration. Which is why I need my sketchbook. When I'm stressed, I either sleep or draw. Most often I draw, and after a while I'm so focused on whatever disaster I'm creating that I loose all of the excess frustration that formerly plagued me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I CAN say, however, that my life would be a lot more complicated and a lot less productive than it is now if I was still the way I was last year. I've changed a lot, as my IRL acquaintances can tell you. Hell, I don't know how it happened, but I'm glad it did. I am disappointed to say that until this year my life revolved around being exactly the type of person I hate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I HATE PEOPLE WHO ACT STUPID FOR THE SAKE OF ACTING STUPID.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I also think that as some of my 'friends' (and I do use the word loosely, seeing as some of you make me want to beat myself over the head with a frying pan) will see that what they are doing now isn't going to be relevant in the next few years when it comes time to move out of the nest, go to college, get a job, etc. I don't know about you, but there's no way in hell I would lease an apartment next to an 18 year old in a purple wig who shouts out anime quotations at random in the middle of Publix. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm not pointing fingers (I'm pointing TOES!) at anyone, but if you read this and think "Oh wow, that's just like me!", you may want to take a long, hard look at yourself and think: Am I being an obnoxious meat-sack?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I really have nothing against anime or manga or anything pertaining to that type of stuff (save for the fact that IT ALL LOOKS THE SAME, which bothers me) but that doesn't mean I'm going to look at the person who comes up to me and says, "OMG DRAW ME SASUKEEEE!!!!SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!!!" and decide to become their best friend. In fact, I would probably slap ANYONE who came up to me screaming for me to draw fanart. I hate fanart, and the entire reason why I stopped drawing for so long is because of that, and people who would ask me to draw things for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I also hate the use of the word 'squee' in general. Just because you're excited doesn't mean you have to stomp all over the face of proper grammar. Plus, it makes you sound like a moron. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Leave the squee-ing to Squee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm not sure what triggered this banter. I don't like ranting; it makes me sound like one of my other 'friends'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;IN OTHER NOOZ....I sat in B&amp;amp;N and read the book-compilation of Ctrl+Alt+Del webcomics today. I enjoyed this greatly, and considered buying the book when I remembered- I spent my last $20 on movie tickets and a huge Slurpee yesterday. It was a delicious Slurpee, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am going to eat soup now, and hopefully head home soon so I can get back to working on those lil' octopi/squiddies I was talking about yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-3783995280986372938?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/3783995280986372938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/inglourious.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/3783995280986372938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/3783995280986372938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/inglourious.html' title='Inglourious'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/SpBPYFOtW_I/AAAAAAAAABg/kdS7BUTTQTc/s72-c/IMG_0911.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-2516643160616531827</id><published>2009-08-21T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T12:38:32.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughtsplatter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So there I was, sitting in my comfy chair at my less-than-interesting college orientation, doodling on the back of rather important documents, when suddenly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;SOMETHING HAPPENED!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;What, exactly? Well, I'll leave that to your imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Anyways, as of right now, I'm sitting in the library, eating Fruity Pebbles (all sneaky-like, of course), while tearing my hair out as I try to compose a schedule that won't leave me drowning in work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i267.photobucket.com/albums/ii293/trizzle816/fruitypebbles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Mmm...pebbles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to drown in work anyways, though. It's inevitable, especially since I'm virtually committing suicide by taking on two social science classes, one composition class, and a pre-calculus class ALONG WITH two online courses. This, combined with my drawing deadlines, acapella group concerts/rehearsals, ACTUAL JOB (i.e. the thing that gives me money so I can pay my bills and not starve), other groups and club meetings, makes for one impressive cyanide cocktail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN NOT-SO-BORING NEWS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM GOING TO SEE INGLORIOUS BASTERDS IN A FEW HOURS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also managed to finish the basic inking of some adorable little octopi (haha, geddit? INKING? OCTOPI? Oh wow, that was lame.) while waiting for orientation to start today. Will have picture once I stop being lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God it's cold in here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-2516643160616531827?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/2516643160616531827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/thoughtsplatter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/2516643160616531827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/2516643160616531827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/thoughtsplatter.html' title='Thoughtsplatter'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1296066388392344243.post-6507684439514805896</id><published>2009-08-20T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T13:24:45.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, it's a blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have created this webpage in hopes of finding a new way to convey my...Dee-isms to the rest of the internet without subjecting myself to things like the dreaded FACEBOOK or the weenie-infested MYSPACE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I do have a Facebook and a Myspace, but I don't use them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;FOR THOSE WHO KNOWS DEE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Uhm, good for you. Yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT KNOWS DEE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am Dee. That's short for K. D., aka MY INITIALS. I am a full-time college student, full-time artist, part-time cashier at Panera Bread, and full-time wonky person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I do freelance work, tattoo commissions, photography (by commission as well), and comics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will have (more) pictures as soon as I figure out how to use this thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2wCCX4DnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NAh7hm9aGrQ/s1600-h/23841571.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372143479566110322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2wCCX4DnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NAh7hm9aGrQ/s320/23841571.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;An example of A Thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1296066388392344243-6507684439514805896?l=fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/feeds/6507684439514805896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-beginnings.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6507684439514805896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1296066388392344243/posts/default/6507684439514805896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourleggedmoose.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-beginnings.html' title='New Beginnings'/><author><name>K.DEE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01630603675986595353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2yvkXpO0I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZSvcT3bSHZc/S220/IMG_0666.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2OaV2qejbU/So2wCCX4DnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NAh7hm9aGrQ/s72-c/23841571.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
