Darth_Rob

@ SOCL- Now you have some nice classes that are even more nit-picky than mine. The Augustin art one sounds pretty interesting. @Tofu- For some reason, I'm one of those weirdos who thought you were a senior. In fact, I'm sure you've said it at some point in time. DAMN YOU!!!!!

The electoral college is a selection of people that each state assembly selects to represent in the elections. The number of people varies, but is equal to the state's members of congress (house and senate). So if a state has 8 reps and the 2 senators, then they have 10 electoral college people. The electoral college is "supposed" to vote the way the majority of the people vote. And like Mad said, that makes the US more of a republic than a democracy. The only reason the electoral college was put in was because the founding fathers did not initially trust the people, and didn't want them to elect a "demi-god", so the college is there incase some nutjob with a heck of a lot of charisma wins the people over...then the college can put a stop to that.

The author was Sir Ian Fleming. And I steer clear of all the new Bond movies. After Connery and Moore the "franchise" went downhill... (though I must say that the Goldeneye videogame provided much, much multiplayer fun back in high school...)

I love Vader's horn and lava face!!!!!!!!

I dont know what came over me. I just had this random need to reply to as many topics as I could before I went to fail my test. VIVA LA RESISTANCE!!!

I am his father

TOFU!!!!! What happened to the web-comic?! You said I'd be in it, but you never made it!!!! Am I that bad?!

Google is not the devil. It represents all that is good and right and wholesome in the world

Thanks to the powers of the internet, encyclopedias are a thing of the past. Thats sad.

I hate going to the theatre when theres a bunch of old ladies in there. I'm like "hey lady, why are you watching horror movies?"

The starfish is the only animal that can turn it's stomach insideout

They used to call me...Mr. Glass...

Some dang kids egged my house on Halloween night. So I chased them down the street and stuffed marshmellows down their pants. That tought them a lesson.

It's gonna be Judgement Day! The machines will eventually become aware, and attempt to enslave all mankind. Then, 20 years from now, I'll be sent back in time to stop the machine from ever being created

He's out there, somewhere, and he'll eat everyone you care about and then eat some dirt and leaves to get some much-needed fibers

Cain, I haven't seen you around in forever, then you magically appear bringing news of this game. It does look pretty sweet.

BLAST HIS HIDE TO HADES!!!!!!!!

Did you know that Americans spend more than $630 million a year on golf balls?

I have a test in Oceanography today at 10am (its about 8:15am now). I really should be studying, but instead I seem to be surfin' the net...

That was mad awesome Tofu. And now for one of mine, written about a month ago... Eris I can’t get those eyes out of my head. Those deep, golden eyes. Those sharp, intelligent eyes. When I think of them, my body lets loose a natural shiver, one which leaves my pale skin covered in a forest of goose bumps. The memory of those eye are forever embedded within my brain, always haunting me, even as I sleep. Even now those eyes are upon me, glaring at me from across the room. Judging me, weighing me, ridiculing me. Those unblinking, unwavering eyes. Suddenly, like a brief flash of lightning etched across a summer’s night sky, the eyes are gone from the room. But they are still with me, in my mind, like a constant nightmare. The eyes of Eris. I give a start at a crash from downstairs. It sounds like it came from my study, one of my last sanctuaries; now it was lost to the menace of Eris. Even now I hear the dull thud as my precious books come toppling down from the shelves to the cold floor. Books on gardening and game, two beloved activities I have since been deprived of, since Eris. I can not recall the last time my skin, now as white as bone, took in a bit of sunlight, nor the last time I inhaled the refreshing sweetness of a spring day. I have been a prisoner in my own home for countless time. A prisoner of Eris. As suddenly as she is gone she reappears, her black coat a taint in my bright-lit bedroom. But no number of lamps and lights can dominate the shadow of Eris. She gracefully makes her way through the ruins of my once quaint room, stepping over a broken vase here and around an upended table there. She paces over to the stool in the corner, the corner from which she surveys the entire room, taking it all in with one glance. She has such a commanding presence, sitting on that stool as if she were the Queen of Sheba, atop a golden throne, surveying her domain, and her subjects. For her eyes are once again upon me, measuring me. There is a growing fear in the pit of my stomach, festering upon me with every waking hour of day and night. This terror is feeding off my body, mind, my very soul, indulging itself in my horrid fear. A fear of Eris. For countless minutes, hours, days, I am trapped in the stare of those eyes. Time no longer holds a meaning to me, its laws no longer rule me. There is no time, no here or there. Just myself, and Eris. Then suddenly Eris is gone, racing out of the room. Several moments pass, and then I hear it; the shattering of glass tells me she has decided to return to the dining room. I shudder at each smash of plate, each clatter of silverware as I picture a rainstorm of forks and knives falling to the once-spotless floor. As the wreckage continues, a rational thought comes to mind. My fear suppresses it, tries to hold it back, but at last it breaks through my fright, and actually makes it past those glowing eyes in my mind. My last hope before madness engulfs me. A gun. A gun for Eris. My hand trembles uncontrollably as I reach across my four-post bed to the nightstand. It takes several minutes for me to grasp the brass handle. It takes a few moments more for my arm to draw back, opening the top drawer. My hand ventures into the darkness of the drawer, feeling past The Good Book and pens and countless other knickknacks that have accumulated over the years, until it comes to rest upon cold steel. Still shaking, my hand retreats from the drawer, reluctantly dragging the gun with it. Finally free, I stare down at the pistol in my hand. This is my only escape. The only way I will be able to rid my house of this chaos once and for all. The gun seems to bring enough hope to me that it actually fights back the fear, burying it inside me, suppressing it. For the first time in countless days, the fear is gone from my mind, and with it, the eyes. I am free from those deadly, menacing eyes. I have but one thing on my mind, all other thoughts and emotions thrust aside. The death of Eris. My head floods with rejoice at the return of reason and sanity. I would finally be able to escape this tomb which Eris has erected for me. I sit on the edge of the bed, steeling my nerves, awaiting the eventual return of Eris. Before long she returns, picking her way across the damaged landscape of my room. As always, she makes her way to her corner, to perch upon her stool so as to gloat at me over the wreckage she has caused. I stare back into those eyes, those knowing eyes, my mind working to keep the fear and madness help back for the next few moments I need with which to act. I inhale sharply, and a bit of madness escapes as I laugh aloud into the fact of Eris. I compose myself in time to notice how much this sound startles Eris. It is the first sound I have made in weeks, and it caused her to flinch ever so slightly. If I had not been studying her when I had laughed, I would not have noticed that miniscule reaction she had. But it was enough to give me strength. I raised the gun and aimed it at Eris, sighting in on her cocked head. I take a deep breath as my prepares to press the trigger in. But as I aim at her head, I look into those eyes. Those vast, uncanny eyes. Those eyes blast past my dwindling strength and invade my brain yet again. Hope tries one last attempt to rid those eyes from my mind, but it is beaten back. I nod my head as I slowly raise the gun to my head. Eris continues to watch intently as the cold steel of the muzzle makes contact with my temple. My index finger tightens around the trigger of the gun as I understand Eris’ intentions. She is hungry, and I am now nothing more than a meal. A meal for Eris.

Welcome! Can't wait to see your work.

I always wanted to get into miniatures gaming. I think Warhammer is the big one. Theres one called Heroscape. I'm contemplating about getting. I think it's for beginners, and it seems to be geared more towards younger gamers, but it still looks pretty cool. Apparently from what I read, its loosely based around the Norse religion, and I think the actual game is battling during Ragnorak (one of the coolest things in any ancient religion, in my opinion).

That is quite a big switch. Did that put you behind?

That is so true. This technology will change the very core of warfare. It's truely amazing, but scary at the same time. Soon there will be robotic tanks and jet fighters...it is truely scary.

I think they go around spreading the word in an attempt to "save" the non-believers