Slashdot Mirror

go to This site. because it's dying soon.

Not first post. Go to Ablabla.org for all of your racist needs!!!!!11

While slightly off-topic, I'd like to call attention to my prom pictures located at this website.

They include some nice 69ing.

I think slashdot has disabled linking to Ablabla.org. Call me crazy, but maybe my stupid assed trolling finally got to them.

Does it work?

I think slashdot has disabled linking to Ablabla.org. Call me crazy, but maybe my stupid assed trolling finally got to them.

Does it work?

I salute you sir, for being a high-karma logged in troll.
As it stands now, my account is worse than using anonymous coward, since slashdot editors deem fit to declare a secret war on ablabla.org .

Attention: trolls! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: trollz! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: tholls! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: trollses! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: trulls! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

In case you can't tell, we're quite bored right now.

Attention: trols! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: trollax0rs! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content.

Attention: trolls! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content

Attention: trolls! Click this link to be directed to the blog of a stupid narcicistic teenage girl who needs attention. Especially negative attention! Please, insult her. Deride her. Make fun of her. She relishes it!

In other news, visit Ablabla.org for more quality content

Ablabla.org owns.

I guess it's better than him trying to wash the blood of 13 year old boys out of his underwear.

And while you're at it, visit this site for more entertainment and horrible humor.

Dear Father Spazntaz.
Yes, I do have something to confess.

I come to you now, my heart heavy and my outlook on things around so sad.
I...
It feels like such a terrible thing to say.

I'm a dirty, rotten Troll.
A filthy, garbage mouthed spouter of bile and other inanities.
Where I go I cause pain.
Where I write I leave anguish.
The World Wide Web was large so they said.
Large enough for everyone to grab a space to make their own.
Why Father!?
Why do these people with their VAC servers and home LANs congregate on Slashdot,
Kuroshin and The Linux Game Tome?
Is it to taunt meeeeee!?

They know I'm weak - that I can't resist.
"Fool," they say! Not one of us he is.
And now they have a Troll amongst them.
I will have my revenge I say!
I will WIPO my ass with the very discussions they seek to enlighten themselves with!
We all know that the Macintosh is for the homosexual elite.
Only a half-man could enjoy the sight of pastels and beige.
What kind of people rally around a man who is afraid of his own true name - this RMS?
Or hold aloft a fucking bird from the Antarctic?
William Gates is the only truly respectable figurehead for an operating system - nay a
computing movement.
His glasses and suit say - I did this!
I changed the world and I'm proud of what I did...

I am proud of what I do Father!
I find myself in their filthy twisted jaws. Teeth turned this way and that!
Onwards I say!
Father - only you can help me.
I need ablution.
Tell me I am doing right.
I am not a dirty fucking animal - am I?

This was an excerpt from Ablabla.org.
Your support is needed. Ablabla.org is a registered Troll aid charity.
Cases like this one are a frequent reality at Ablabla.org.
Father Spazntaz and his team of Troll support workers work hard to give time to each Troll
that comes to them in need of support - but time and supplies are limited.
Just one comment or reply a day at Ablabla.org could give hope to as much as eight bottom-feeding
troll posting scumbuckets.
Thank you.

I found Ablabla.org' write-up to be more informative, and less full of the typos inherent in any Slashdot article.

Trolling4Turd is only 13. It is a Sunday morning and already Trolling4Turd is making
his way to Slashdot and other news/technical sites in search of the perfect first post or
scathing comments to his previous postings. Sunday is a very slow news day.
Trolling4Turd may eventually arrive at the Interweb only to find 10-48 comments on hours old
news postings.
There may not be opportunity to grab a first post for as much as 5 hours.
Trolling4Turd is too young to figure out the workings of a Perl script - his place might be
taken by a Troll only a few years older than him.
But there is a way to put an end to all this suffering.

Ablabla.org is a registered charity that has been in operation since 2002. Begun as a small
Troll hospice by Jesuit priest Father "Ricer" Spazntaz, Ablabla.org has since become home to as many as
five Trolls in a single day.
Without the hard work and dedication of Father Spazntaz and his team many young trolls such as
Trolling4Turd would have nowhere to go after their posts are marked "-1 offtopic" or "0 flamebait".
To become a registered supporter of Ablabla.org all you have to do is visit Ablabla.org
and register your details. For as little as one reply a day your support at Ablabla.org would give
Trolling4Turd and other young Trolls like him hope when posting derogatory/inflammatory comments on
the Interweb.

Please - register your support now - show that you care.

Trolling4Turd is only 13. It is a Sunday morning and already Trolling4Turd is making
his way to Slashdot and other news/technical sites in search of the perfect first post or
scathing comments to his previous postings. Sunday is a very slow news day.
Trolling4Turd may eventually arrive at the Interweb only to find 10-48 comments on hours old
news postings.
There may not be opportunity to grab a first post for as much as 5 hours.
Trolling4Turd is too young to figure out the workings of a Perl script - his place might be
taken by a Troll only a few years older than him.
But there is a way to put an end to all this suffering.

Ablabla.org is a registered charity that has been in operation since 2002. Begun as a small
Troll hospice by Jesuit priest Father "Ricer" Spazntaz, Ablabla.org has since become home to as many as
five Trolls in a single day.
Without the hard work and dedication of Father Spazntaz and his team many young trolls such as
Trolling4Turd would have nowhere to go after their posts are marked "-1 offtopic" or "0 flamebait".
To become a registered supporter of Ablabla.org all you have to do is visit Ablabla.org
and register your details. For as little as one reply a day your support at Ablabla.org would give
Trolling4Turd and other young Trolls like him hope when posting derogatory/inflammatory comments on
the Interweb.

Please - register your support now - show that you care.

You could volunteer your time in a more productive fashion by doing any number of self-gratifying things, including, but not limited to Looking at porn, Hanging out at this site, or Turning off the internet. All interesting and fun activities that don't require you to send money to anyone.

But there's a mirror available here.

Check out this site. They seem to know some interesting stuff that the article doesn't cover.

Here's a mirror.

this gets me a lot of hits. Yay. It's a fucking good website too.

It's user feedback day at ablabla.org so why don't you goofballs, who happen to be users of ablabla since you're slashdot (L)users, come along and let us know what you think.

just use the ablabla mirror. It may be horribly offensive, but it has the story.

please MOD original post down.

Use this link instead.

Thank you.

This site has a mirror of the article up. No registration required.

This is the site for all your trolling needs. Follow this link and free your mind! Hurry on over to:

Oh, and CmdrTaco rapes his hand

Yeah, every time I post a link to my website in a troll I get lots of hits. So I'm going to keep doing it until no one comes to my site.

But our site looks like a fucking joke! It's layout is horrible, and our rape porn pics are all super low quality.

Hell, even our preggie porn is low qual, and you wouldn't think pregnant women would be able to struggle enough to get away that fast.

Oh well. Visit my site. It's better than the shit that was linked to in the Slashdot article.

And... BSD IS DYING!!!!!!!

Ayeka Muyou:
A Tale of Ayeka and Ryouko

The first thing I learned, when I awoke, was pain. My lungs were
on fire, my skin was frozen, every muscle seemed to aching, and it was far
too bright to open my eyes more than a slit. I wanted to curl up in a
ball and quietly die.

"Ayeka. Ayeka, come on. We don't have time for this. They're
going to come for us, and we gotta get out of here before they get here."
The voice was harsh, but it did not seem angry, as such. More ...
concerned.

I forced my eyes to open, gasping in pain, and stared up into the
golden ones that were glaring at me. I tried to speak, but all that I
could manage was a hacking cough as the liquid in my throat forced its
way up.

"Are you able to walk, or am I gonna have to *carry* you out of
here like some mewling infant?" the voice, which I knew had to belong to
the eyes, demanded. I knew, from the tone, that the speaker was expecting
me to insist that I was able to walk. I tried to push myself up from the
ground, and my arms gave out as soon as I tried to put my weight on them.
Something at my back kept me from collapsing all the way down, however. I
shook my head to show that I couldn't walk.

The eyes closed, and a profound sigh ensued. "Damn spoiled brat
princess," the voice muttered. "All right."

The pressure on my back increased, and I felt a new pressure
sliding underneath my knees. Then my body left the ground completely. I
found my head resting against something soft, and I closed my eyes
completely.

Then there was a whooshing noise, and I heard the voice mutter a
short expression that I couldn't understand. What followed it, however,
was very clear. "ESCAPE!" another voice, angry, bellowed, making me wince
and curl up even more.

"Time to go!" the voice proclaimed, and in an instant we were
moving at great speed. I heard several things breaking in the wake of our
passage, heard alarms going off, screams.

The arms that were holding me were very strong, much stronger than
I was. I knew that no matter how fast we were moving, no matter how many
twists there were in our course, that the person who was holding me
wouldn't let go. I was safe. I didn't know how I knew that, but I knew
that I was safe with this person.

After a while ... I couldn't be certain how long, perhaps minutes,
perhaps an hour, the voice spoke again. "Okay, this should be good." The
bright light beyond my eyelids had dimmed, and I opened them again as we
slowed to a stop.

We were within a cave of some sort, and the darkness that allowed
me to open my eyes also kept me from making out many details. We were
moving slowly downward, and I heard the crunch of a footfall. Then I was
being lowered even further, placed down on the ground.

And I finally got a look at the person who had rescued me.

She was tall, with (as I had realized) golden eyes and long, spiky
light blue hair, that flowed down to her waist, with two long locks that
dangled past her ears. There was something exotic about her features,
something that I couldn't quite understand, given that her face was no
more nor any less unfamiliar to me than my own. She was dressed in a ...
tight-fitting uniform of some sort.

"Okay," she said, "we can rest here for a while. Not for a *long*
while, but for a few hours." She took a deep breath. "So, you wanna tell
me what all happened?"

My lungs no longer felt like they were on fire, and my throat was
no longer filled with liquid. Still, I hesitated before I spoke. I was
not sure how she would take my reply.

"I would gladly explain all I remember," I said, slowly, "if you
will but tell me two things."

"Shoot," she said.

"Who are you? And, for that matter, who am I?"

She stared at me, unblinking for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"The first thing that I recall is waking up, in extreme pain ...
back there," I indicated, vaguely gesturing. "I cannot remember anything
before that --"

"Ah, *shit*," she said angrily. "They've doped you up with
Oblivio!"

I nodded. Given that I had no idea what she was talking about,
she seemed so certain that it convinced me.

She turned away, tapping her foot anxiously, thinking about
something. Her legs were very long, I noticed, and the uniform she wore
emphasized their smooth muscles.

"Okay," she said suddenly, "here's the scoop. Your name is Ayeka
Masaki. You are a princess of the Jurai Star Kingdom, the aunt of the
ruler of that Kingdom, and the ambassador to one of its few allies. A
week or so ago, while you were taking a vacation to the planet Mars, you
were kidnapped. The Imperial Security Agency immediately started to
investigate, and they determined fairly shortly that the men who had
taken you were in the employ of a certain Duke , who had been courting
your hand in marriage for a few years a while back, before you finally
told him to get bent. Anyway, this same Duke, about two weeks ago,
seceeded from the Kingdom. Some of the nobles in this sector do that on
the average of about twice a year, but the fact that he'd done so just
before you were seized was a big indicator that he was responsible.
Unfortunately, this tied Tenchi's hands."

"Tenchi?" I asked. "Who is Tenchi?"

She seemed to be rocked by the question. After a moment, she
replied, unsteadily. "He ... he's your nephew. The Emperor." Another
moment, in which she seemed to be collecting herself, followed. "Anyway,
like I said, the fact that Duke Jorashi has seceeded from the Empire tied
Tenchi's hands. He could send in the whole damn fleet to get you out of
here, but it would be an act of war against an independant power. It'd
give all the other currently seceeded nobles an excuse to unite against
the Empire, and fighting *them* would give the Empire's *other* opponents
an excuse to invade ... and the weight of galactic opinion would be on
their side.

"So," she continued, "I volunteered to go in and rescue you
myself." She avoided meeting my eyes when she said that.

"And ... who are you, exactly."

"I'm Ryouko Ma-- just Ryouko. I'm Tenchi's bodyguard ..."

"Then ... why did you abandon that duty to come get me?" I asked,
confused. "Surely protecting someone as important as the Emperor is more
vital than rescuing one of his aunts."

She glared at me. "Typical, Ayeka, typical ... I come all this
way to do you a favor and --"

"Are we friends, then?" I eagerly pressed. "Or --"

"No," she said shortly, "we are *not* friends." She looked away
again. "But Tenchi ... he still cares about you ..."

`Still'?

"... and I can't stand to see him upset or worried. I never
could."

With lacerating clarity, it came to me. "You love him, don't
you?"

She flinched, but still did not look at me.

"You and I were never friends ... because we were rivals for his
heart, weren't we?" I continued, sadly. "And you won --"

"No," she said shortly. "Neither of us won."

"But then --"

She turned to look at me with an impatient expression. "Look, I
don't have time to go into all the reasons you usually hate my guts. Back
to the situation at hand. I slipped past Duke Jorashi's defenses easy
and found out where you were. For some reason, he'd stashed you in
coldsleep. I broke you out of the tank you were in, and now I find out
that he also pumped you full of enough drugs to give you complete amnesia.
Great. So you don't have the ability to help me in our escape."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't make ex... cu... ses ..." she trailed off. "Uh. Well,
it's not all your fault. It'd be nice if we could use your powers as well
as mine to get out of here, but ... we can't. No biggy. I can handle
it."

"I'm sure you can."

She looked at me oddly, then shook her head. "Okay. We're far
enough away from their headquarters that we can take a few hours to rest.
I'm *so* sorry that I couldn't bring a change of clothes for you --"

I looked down and realized that I was naked. I wondered why she
thought I'd be bothered by it. Perhaps when I had my memories I'd be more ... modest, but it didn't really bother me all that much. I decided to
sit up, and covered my nipples and vulva, in case they were bothering her.

"-- but I *did* bring a blanket so you won't freeze your skinny
little butt off." She produced a small package from her belt, and it
unfolded into a large blanket, which she flung at me. I caught it, and
began to wrap it around myself. "Right. Try to get some rest, but don't
sleep too soundly."

I nodded, and began to lay down ... then paused. "Where will you
be?"

"Huh? I'm not going anywhere."

"No, I mean, where are you going to sleep?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I'll keep watch."

I laid down. It was a warm blanket, and I had carefully wrapped
it around me to protect myself from the hard floor of the cave. Still, I
could not make a headrest out of it, so I was doomed to sleep uneasily.

Before I nodded off, I heard her yawning. "Are you sure that you
don't --" I asked.

"I'm fine, I told you. Don't worry your pretty little head over
me." There was a faint hint of anger in her tone.

I sighed, and closed my eyes again. Just before sleep took me, I
found myself wondering if she truly thought that I was pretty.

* * *

I awoke from my dreamless sleep an immeasurable time later, to the
faint sound of snoring. A brief flash of irritation consumed me, but it
fell away as I saw her, curled up in a ball a little ways away.

I knew that she was cold, somehow.

So I stood up, still swathed in the blanket, and went over to her.
It was not that hard to spread the blanket over both of us, and curl up
behind her. She was not very warm, and the floor was hard ...

But it felt good.

"T'nchi ..." she muttered in her sleep. I blushed. She was
obviously having some sort of dream about the one that she said that we
had both loved, and lost.

She began to twist around beneath the blanket. For a moment, I
believed that she was trying to steal more of it for herself, and I
resisted, pulling it so that she couldn't do so. That was when she rolled
over from where she was lying on her left side to lying on her right.

Facing me.

Our lips were only an inch apart.

"Tenchi ... atashi no Tenchi ... daisuki yo ..." she whispered.
Words in a language I couldn't understand. And then she leaned forward
and she was kissing me.

Her tongue moved inside my mouth, caressing my teeth for a moment.
Slowly, I reached out with my own tongue to brush against hers.

Then her eyes opened a fraction.

And *then* they opened all the way.

She jerked back, spluttering. "Uh. Uh. I. Er." A deep breath.
"Wotinsamhilld'youthinkyou're DOING?"

I swallowed, still feeling her tongue in my mouth. "I ... you
fell asleep, and you looked cold, and so I came over with the blanket and
you were dreaming and --"

"Oh," she said, backing further away, out from under the blanket.
"Well, that's okay then, all my fault, terribly sorry, don't do that ever
again, I mean I'm not cold, I can take interstellar temperatures for
crying out loud, of course I'm not cold --"

"Why are you running away from me?" I asked quietly.

She visibly shuddered. "Be-because I ... "

I let the blanket drop to my waist. "Do you find me disgusting?
Is that why --"

"No! I mean, hell, it's nothing I haven't seen before, well a
couple times, and besides I'm a lot better built, so --"

"When you were sleeping," I continued, "you said a word. Daisuki.
What does it mean?"

She was silent for a long moment, and for a second I imagined that
I saw a single perfect tear trickling down her cheek. "It means love. In
Tenchi's native language." She was silent for another moment. "Did. Did
I say ... your name, when I said ..."

I shook my head. "You spoke of Tenchi."

She closed her eyes, and smiled a sad, quiet smile. "Of course.
The one time I was with him, he spoke of someone else like that."

"Of the one who did win him?" I asked.

"No. Of someone we all lost ..." She shook her head violently
again. "It doesn't matter. It's ... it was a mistake, don't worry about
it."

I stood up, letting the blanket pool about my feet. "I want to
worry about it," I answered her quietly. "Why were we never friends, even
after we had both lost?"

There was something of a cornered animal in her eyes. "Because ... too many years of bad memories," she managed to make out.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I stepped close to her. Every step
brought me a little closer. Finally, I was standing with my breasts
against hers, staring deeply into her eyes. "I don't have any memories,"
I said, and kissed her again.

This time, my tongue moved into her mouth. I was startled but not
truly surprised to find her sharp teeth. In the short while that I'd
known her, I had always sensed something of a wild beast in her.

I hoped that the wild beast would be wild for me.

There was a momentary pulse and she was naked against me. I
pulled back, startled. "How --"

Her eyes were on fire. "A simple trick," she murmured and kissed
me again. Now our tongues were duelling ... no, were engaging in a dance
complex beyond imagination.

Before I knew what was happening, she was pulling me too the floor
of the cave with her. "Wait," I said, "the blank--"

"I don't want to wait," she said, and kissed my left nipple. That
made my mind, which was exploding from the sensations of her touching my
skin everywhere else, detonate in a whole new fashion. I didn't even feel
the grit of the cavern floor pushing into my back. I was too far gone
from her fingers, from her lips, from her ...

And then one of her fingers moved down to brush against my vulva,
and she paused. Her eyes were wide. "You are ... you're a ..." she
whispered. I nodded.

She bent down and began to kiss me there. It was beyond
imagining. And then after a moment, she looked up at me. She met my
eyes.

She pushed her fingers in.

It hurt, a little.

But what came after made the hurt fade into a distant memory, and
I gasped and cried and in the end I screamed as she gave me the gift.

And what I screamed was her name.

We kissed again, and then I decided to give her my gift --

"Well isn't that cute?"

Her head whipped around, and too late I saw them standing there.
Hard faces, twisted in amusement and contempt. With weapons pointed at
us.

She could destroy them, I knew. But while she was destroying
them, they could slay me.

And she could not let that happen. She lowered her glowing hand,
and the glow around it faded. "All right," she said quietly, "you win."
Her clothes reappeared around her as she snatched the blanket and flung it
around my shoulders. "We'll come peacefully, won't we, Ayeka --"

She stared, baffled, as the squad leader laughed viciously. "Sure
you will. Right. After you put these on," he added, and tossed a set of
bracelets to her. She looked at them, shook her head -- more in annoyance
than in anger -- and clicked them on. She was looking right at me when
she did so, and she winked.

We were marched through the caverns for what felt like hours. My
feet were bruised and bleeding within minutes, but whenever I stumbled she
was there to catch me.

At last we came to an door in the wall, through which we were
pushed. The lights came on a moment after we were inside and the door
closed.

A cold eyed man with slate gray hair was seated on a throne inside
an almost palatial suite. He smiled cruelly at us. "Well, the rumors are
correct, then. His Imperial Mongrel sent his official pirate to spy on
us, and to steal my property.

"Go consort with goats, your Grace," she said, sneering.

"Now where would be the amusement in that?"

"They suit you more than Ayeka ever will," she hissed.

He blinked, as though she had said something he hadn't expected,
then laughed uproarously. "You ... you think that I ... oh, Guide, this
*is* amusing!"

"Huh?"

"Lady Ryouko," he asked, drawing out every syllable of her name,
"do you actually think that I would keep such a prize as Princess Ayeka in
cold sleep, where all I can do is look at her charms?"

He tapped a button on the side of his throne, and a section of the
wall to his left slid open, revealing a clear, glass wall. Behind the
wall was a young woman with purply black hair, tied back into a pair of
pony tails, dressed in a formal kimono. She had an outraged expression on
her face, and she looked as though she were about to start pounding on the
glass ...

And then her eyes met mine, and the young woman froze.

She looked back and forth between me and the young woman with a
terribly confused expression. I couldn't understand why.

"Ayeka?" she finally murmured while gazing at the young woman.

"Given the remarkable potency of the power of Jurai that runs
through the Crown Princess' veins, I would have been fool indeed to
attempt to force myself on her. She would probably have annihilated me.
But a clone of the Princess ... a clone possessing all her physical
qualities without the annoying power ... that was much more to my taste."

I gazed at the back of her head, for she was staring at the Duke.
I whispered her name.

"And while the clone was being grown, I decided to make some
modifications. A female who cannot enjoy what is being done to her, for
the simple fact that she is biologically oriented towards other women ...
I have always yearned to rape such a one. 'Tis a dream of mine."

"You son of a bitch," she said in an extremely quiet tone.

He looked speculative. "As I recall, yes, I am. Now then. You
stand accused of trespassing on my property. How do you plead?"

"You're gonna die, you sick fuck," she said in the same tone.

"I'll interpret that as guilty. Therefore, we sentence you to
death. Executioner!"

I turned to see the leader of the guards step forward, carrying a
heavy beam rifle of some kind. Behind me, she lifted a clenched fist and
began to concentrate.

Nothing happened.

"It wasn't easy to build a set of restraints calibrated to your
power level, you know," the Duke commented offhandedly. "But it's worth
every credit."

The beam rifle in the guard's hand began to hum with power, and he
leveled it at her.

At my ...

In the instant that the weapon flashed, I stepped between her and
it.

I learned more about pain in that moment, and then I collapsed. I
did not scream.

She did though. She screamed what she had thought was my name,
and dropped down to grab me. She was all but incoherent, and I was in too
much pain to say anything. But one thing I did say as the darkness rushed
upon me.

"Dai... daisuki ..." I whispered.

The first thing I learned, when I awoke, was pain.

The last thing I learned, as I died, was love.

Epilogue.

AYEKA:
I felt a sudden stab of pity as I saw Ryouko bending over the body
of my clone, sobbing as intensely as she had when Tenchi had announced
that he was to marry her mother.

I didn't understand *why* she was carrying on like that, though.

"Abominable marksmanship," Duke Jorashi said shortly to the
guard. "Well, here's your second chance. Don't miss this time."

"Don't even *think* about it," Tenchi's voice snapped.

Almost involuntarily, my head turned from where it was gazing.
Tenchi, his moustache resting over a flat, angry mouth, was standing only
a few feet behind where Ryouko was. I gasped.

"How dare you!" Duke Jorashi shrieked. "This is an act of war,
oh Emperor!"

"Oh?" Tenchi replied. "Then what about this? Screen."

A holographic screen, like the one Washuu uses, appeared beside
him. The image of Duke Jorashi was on it, with a look of contrition on
his face. "Lord Emperor Tenchi, I most humbly recant my recent secession,
and regret deeply our dispute. I further invite you to visit my world at
your earliest convenience, that we might discuss certain strategic
matters."

"That is a lie!" the Duke shouted. "A fabrication!"

"You'll have plenty of time to try and prove that at your trial
for kidnapping. Ryouko --"

"Trial?"

Ryouko's voice was more quiet than I'd ever heard it, even on the
horrid day nearly a thousand years ago when she'd thought that she'd lost
Tenchi forever, to Kagato. In her eyes was a new level of berserk fury.
I stepped away from the glass, and began to build my personal forcefield
up to maximum.

"HE DIES NOW!" she screamed as she raced towards the Duke. The
restrainer bands shattered and fragmented as she drew on more power than
she'd ever pulled before. Her sword manifested, and the glass wall before
me shattered from the backlash of the power.

In the twinkling of an eye, Tenchi was standing between her and
the Duke. "NO," he said in his most authoritative tone.

"LET ME PAST, TENCHI! HE IS MINE!" she screamed, swinging a fist
through his head. Immediately, I realized that he was here only as a
holographic projection.

"No, Ryouko! If you kill him now, you're a murderer. We're going
to use the system this time!"

"HE --"

"I know what he did! And I'm *sorry*. But this is the way it has
to be!"

"He ..." she was finally starting to break down. Tenchi lifted
his arms to try to embrace her ... then realized the impossibility of it.

"I'm sorry," he said again. Then he turned to glare at the Duke,
who was cowering behind his throne. "But rest assured, your Grace, that
Imperial justice will be *very* swift in your case."

The Duke was too terrified to say a word. There was a faint hint
of urine in the air.

"Ayeka," he turned at last to me, "are you all right?"

"I am quite fine, Tenchi. That craven never dared to lay a finger
on me."

"All right. I'll be down in a shuttle very shortly." He turned
to look at Ryouko, who had once more bent over the body of my clone. He
closed his eyes. "I wish ..." he said ... then shook his head. A moment
later the hologram dissolved.

I stepped gingerly out past the wreckage of the wall, just as
Ryouko lifted the clone's corpse up, wrapping it in what remained of the
blanket she'd been wearing, and began to slowly walk towards the door
leading out of the Duke's bunker. "Ryouko?" I asked, startled. "Where
are you --"

"I have a grave to dig," she softly answered, and teleported away.

And I wondered.

RYOUKO:
I spent the entire trip home in bed, locked in my cabin on the
throneship. No one, not even "Mom", who had come to help with the phony
broadcast from the Bastard, was foolish enough to intrude on me, until the
day before we were to arrive back on Jurai.

The door to my cabin swished open. Of course, only one person on
the ship had the authority to enter any room on the ship. I stayed where
I was, waiting for him to start chastising me.

Finally, the silence became overpowering, and I spoke. "I was
wrong. I shouldn't have --"

"I didn't come here to argue with you ... but I think that you did
the right voice.

Her voice was so much like *hers*, but there were a double handful
of differences in the way that she spoke. So my heart only stopped
beating for a second. I rolled over to look at her. She was standing,
elegant as always, near the door. And I wondered, as our eyes met,
whether I would always remember *her* taste whenever I looked at her.

"I came," she said slowly, "to thank you for what you tried to do.
For invading Jorashi's homeworld to rescue me, without Tenchi's
permission, so that he could avoid a war. I am grateful, Ryouko."

I looked away. "I didn't do anything. I barged in head first and
managed to get ... to get someone killed ..." I would not let the tears
come again. I *would* not.

"And I grieve for your loss," she said.

"What loss," I choked. "I was dumb enough to fall for someone who ... hell, I thought she *was* you, but now I find out that she was all but
*programmed* to fall for me. Something as stupid as that doesn't deserve
to be called a loss."

There was silence for a moment.

"I will say only this, Ryouko. Duke Jorashi had to make changes
to her biology, to make my clone a ... lesbian.

"But not many."

I whipped around and stared at her standing in the doorway, not
looking at me. "What?" I hissed.

"Do you know what frightened me the most when you raided Jurai?
Not the damage you caused. Not Yoshou running after you. But one very
simple thing. It frightened me that someone so beautiful could be so
vile."

She stepped out of the door, and it closed behind her.

And I wondered.

"AYEKA":

I paused as I walked towards the light, and saw my beloved's heart
beginning to heal. And smiled. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?"
I asked the Presence who walked with me, holding my hand.

OF COURSE.

We began walking again.

Author's Notes

The characters of Tenchi Muyou were created by Hiroki Hayashi and
Masaki Kajishima, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. This
story, while incorporating aspects of this motion picture held under
copyright by others, is copyright 1997 by Chris Davies.

Nobody sue me, okay?

Chris Davies, Advocate for Darkness, Part-Time Champion of Light.
"Damn it all, how am I supposed to sit here and wallow in self-pity and
disgust with all this racket going on?" -- Yuusaku Godai, Maison Ikkoku.

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Well, it's that time again. Time for fresh faced youngsters to pack up their precious belongings, moms to break out the tissues, and dads to finally figure out how big a hot tub will fit in your old room. And since it's that time of year, I figure it is the perfect time to share my year of experience in that most important of college experiences--booze.

Below is a list of drinks I have imbibed upon frequently and experimented in making recently. I have compiled them in order to let others go into the college year a little more educated on the wonders of alcohol, and its mixing. Of course, these are only the mixed drinks and hard liquors. Beer and wine will have to come later.

Absinthe
Illegal in this country since 1912 because it was found to cause permanent dementia, but available from any resident Greek (he'll call it Ouzo, Frenchmen (he'll call it Ricard), or other European, just follow your nose to this refreshing beverage. No, the drink doesn't smell, but the foreigner you'll be getting it from will! Absinthe isn't alcohol, but more related to a narcotic. It is clear, but when you add the obligatory water and ice, it turns into a color remarkably like semen! The taste is entirely unique, but I don't suggest drinking a lot if it. You might become French.
Smoothness: 2 (out of 5)
Fuck-upness: 4 (out of 5)

Amaretto Sour
1 shot amaretto
Country Time Lemonade to taste
Serve over ice
Perfect for all those tipsy ladies that you love to grope, this drink is candy in a glass, but don't think that it wont get you drunk. This drink is good for freshmen and girly girls (Anna) and anyone wanting to warm up for a good night out or wind down from a hard day in class. I really like this one and stock its ingredients often. Shut up. I'm not a lush. I can quit anytime I want to...
Smoothness: 5
Fuck-upness: 3

Black Russian
2 shots vodka
1 shot Kahlua
Serve over ice.
This drink makes Russians cry. Not just the cute little Russian girls, but the scary Russian men too. Mainly because in the Russian world of snow and capitalistic dogs, there is no such color as 'black.' Stalin banned it in 1952 along with newspapers, Ukrainians, and fun. But name aside, this drink will fuck you up. Fast. As a rule, booze mixed with more booze will do that, but the black Russian is a drink I recommend only for those men already with hair on their chest (Nick) or a death wish (Seok).
Smoothness: 0
Fuck-upness: 5

Cognac
The highest of the high class, Cognac is a special type of brandy (distilled wine) made only in the Cognac region of France. It's expensive. It's best served at 98 degrees. It's stronger than Seok on Creatine. I don't suggest trying to get f'ed up on Cognac, since there are much cheaper ways to go. A lot of people try to make mixed drinks (Café Royals, Cossacks, Chicago Cocktails) with this fine after dinner enjoyment, but I suggest waiting until you're rich enough to not worry about coughing up a lung and spilling $200 on the ground while begging for enough water to put the inferno in your throat.
Smoothness: 0
Fuck-upness: 5

Cointreau
This liqueur is a brand of Triple Sec and is the perfect ingredient for Margaritas. By itself, and with a few ice cubes, this drink taste slightly of orange. Like any specialty liqueur, this is not for getting f'ed up with. I recommend it for impressing chicks with your knowledge of alcohol and an excuse to say "liqueur" a lot.
Smoothness: 4
Fuck-upness: 3

Cosmopolitan
1 shot vodka
½ shot Triple Sec
Cranberry juice
Dash of Lime
Serve Shaken
This is a trendy fru-fru drink that is common to old women who would sell their souls to be young again. It is pink and appeared on Sex in the City and therefore, is damn popular with people who want to be cosmopolitan. But, don't let the clientele fool you. This might be what Doctor Bob calls a "watered down martini," but this pink lush-water does pack a wallop. It's a lot of vodka, especially if you get my luscious Mom to make it.
Smoothness: 4
Fuck-upness: 4

Dominican Devil
2 shots gold rum
Lemonade to taste
Serve over ice
The Dominican Devil is named for my fiancée and is named appropriately. The only time I ever got puking drunk was after drinking these. Well, and the 10+ shots of gold rum. But she took care of me afterward. This is a surprisingly tasty mix that is sour with a sweet aftertaste of molasses. The warmer you serve it, the more molasses in the after taste. Also the more ass in the foretaste. For an extra kick, use Bacardi 151 and light it on fire.
Smoothness: 3
Fuck-upness: 4

Fog Horn
2 shots gin
Juice of 1 lime
Ginger ale to taste
Serve over ice
Yeah, yeah, funny name. But this sweet little number is a nice way to drink when the only thing available is gin. For those of you not in the know, gin tastes like giving head to a pine tree. The strong lime and sweet Ginger ale are a nice way to hide the gin, and still get smashed enough to actually think about seeing if that simile was apt.
Smoothness: 4
Fuck-upness: 4

Gin
Do yourself a major favor. Don't try to impress anyone by swigging this bottle back. You'll only look as foolish as Irish did. The best brands are Tanqueray, Bombay, and Bombay Sapphire.
Smoothness: 0
Fuck-upness: 5

Gin & Sin
2 shots gin
2 shots Orange Juice
2 shots Lemon Juice
Serve over ice
Yet another way to hide gin. This doozy is a good one to remember because the two most common mixers at parties are OJ and Lemonade. They are strong flavors, but remember, so is gin. Just drink it fast.
Smoothness: 2
Fuck-upness: 5

Gin & Tonic
2 shots gin
Dash of lime
Tonic to taste
Serve over 2 ice cubes
Ok. This is a personal summer favorite of mine, but I have to give you a word of warning. If done wrong, this is the worst drink ever. The problem is that gin (as we have established) is awful and tonic taste like rancid monkey ass. The only way they are potable is when they arrive in perfect harmony with a little lime. I'd love to tell you how to balance them right, but I can only tell you it's all practice. I've had a lot, and I'm pretty damn good at it, but I'd suggest getting a seasoned bartender to make this one. And use only the best gins (I use Bombay Dry Gin). One final note on prep--don't stir!! The beauty of this drink is that the tonic bubbles and movement of the ice stir the mix for you. Done right, this drink is one of the reasons to become a lush. Just ask my parents.
Smoothness: 4 (done wrong, 0)
Fuck-upness: 5

Grapefruit Cocktail
2 shots gin
Grapefruit Juice to taste
Serve over ice, or shaken
Irish's favorite (and his grandmother's), this drink will fuck you up good. The gin is amazingly close to the taste of grapefruit juice and it is a pretty good combo if you are sick of drinks that are too sweet or too sour. Grapefruit juice is a rare mixture at a party, but if you're ever hanging at Irish's place, ask for this one. I can't say it hides the gin. It just makes you feel like you're giving head to an old woman instead of a pine tree. Your call.
Smoothness: 5 (Irish made me write that)
Fuck-upness: 5

Long Island Iced Tea
1 shot tequila
1 shot rum
1 shot vodka
1 shot gin
1 shot triple sec
Lime juice, sugar, cola to taste.
Damn.
Smoothness: 3
Fuck-upness: 6 ½

Margarita
1 shot tequila
1 shot Triple Sec
Juice of ½ a lime.
Serve over ice or blended
Another personal favorite, this drink is a must with spicy Mexican food. The salt-rimmed glass, while it may look disgusting, is the key to this drink. It is salty, sweet, and sour with that unmistakable tequila kick. Interestingly enough, it is also the most popular mixed drink among women dining out. Which makes sense; the flavor is as complex as a woman. And, it will fuck you up and make you do as much stupid shit as a woman.
Smoothness: 1
Fuck-upness: 4

Martini
2 shots gin
Serve shaken
This little pretentious number is one of the fundamentals of any mixology. While I (and most) prefer vodka in our martinis, this classic is still popular with old heiresses and people out to a bar for the first time. But don't let these primary customers fool you; this drink is among the highest in fucked-upedness. The martini lover is one of the manliest of men. Just ask Doctor Bob. I'm sure he'll tell you all about how great he is.
Smoothness: 1
Fuck-upness: 5

Pina Colada
2 shots light rum
2 oz coconut cream
3 oz pinapple juice
Blend with ice
This a rum delight that is good for nights out, but I don't recommend it for getting f'd up. There's just too much other stuff in there that you will get full before you can sleep with that ugly sophomore with the lazy eye. Pina Coladas are classified under girly drinks for a reason. They are easy on the tongue and easier on the liver.
Smoothness: 5
Fuck-upness: 1

Rum
Rum is strong, but there is a great, sweet aftertaste that comes from the molasses that it is distilled from. You can sip it, since it's not great for shots, but I prefer mixing it in girly, fruity drinks. Unless its 151 (i.e. 151 proof) which I suggest lighting on fire because burning stuff is fun. Plus burning it burns off most of the alcohol and leaves only the sweet, sweet innards... The best rums I know are Black Seal, and Bacardi Gold, but if you want a fun night out, use Bacardi 151.
Smoothness: 1
Fuck-upness: 5

Screwdriver
2 shots vodka
Orange juice to taste
Serve over ice
This is a very overrated drink that has become very popular for no goddamn reason. It is too thick to enjoy the whispy, angelic properties of vodka and too thick to cool down enough to nullify the burning nature of the alcohol. It's even too thick to drink it fast. I'd liken its flavor to gasoline-soaked snot.
Smoothness: 2
Fuck-upness: 5

Stevotini
1 shot of frigid Grey Goose vodka
5 ounces Minutemaid Lemonade
Serve shaken
This is the drink that I pick when I want to get tanked with the woman I love. It is tangy but with an airy texture that will delight even the most avid pessimist (Robert). Drink it fast, because it is best when Antarcticly cold. It is my favorite Thursday night treat and I can't stress enough how wonderful it is. Drink it with someone you love and make sure you are wearing clothes you can get out of quickly.
Smoothness: 5
Fuck-upness: 5

Strawberry Daiquiri
A few shots of light rum
A pack of frozen strawberries
Blend with ice until desired texture
Yeah, its not an accurate recipe, but I was pretty drunk already. This is another girly drink that's not good for getting drunk off of, but you can speed up the process by taking shots of rum while your girlfriend works the blender. I honestly don't remember the taste...
Smoothness: 5
Fuck-upness: 1

Tom Collins
2 shots gin
Juice of ½ lemon or lime
2 pinches of sugar
Club soda to taste
This drink is also often ordered by heiresses and Mr. Montgomery Burns. It is like a gin and tonic but harder to screw up because club soda isn't that bad. Like monkey ass versus rancid monkey ass. And the sugar really helps. If you are going to add too much of something, add too much sugar.
Smoothness: 3
Fuck-upness: 3

Vodka
My favorite distilled beverage, vodka is the shit. Of course, if you buy the cheap vodka, that is what it will taste like--shit. The best stuff on earth (and all I drink) is Grey Goose. Store it in its own freezer, because this stuff is so incredibly pure, the smells from other food with ruin it. Best served ICEfuckingcold and with a heavy air of pretension.
Smoothness: 0 (Grey Goose: 5)
Fuck-upness: 5

Vodka Martini
2 shots vodka
Whisper of dry vermouth
Serve shaken
Little hint on the best way to mix this one up: fill the shaker with ice, then pour a generous amount of vermouth into the shaker and shake vigorously. Pour out the vermouth, but keep the ice in. Now add your 2 shots, shake and serve. The vermouth remaining on the ice is just enough to make this heavenly concoction. But don't try explaining it to a bartender, unless you like the idea of living your life with a limp.
Smoothness: 2
Fuck-upness: 5

Vodka Tonic
2 shots vodka
Tonic to taste
Serve over ice
No. Just, no. Smoothness: 0
Fuck-upness: 5

Whiskey
This is the liquor of men. Not just because it tastes awful, but because it doesn't taste as awful as gin, which is the liquor of Irish. Men as a whole are smarter than Irish. And they choose this harsh distillate. There are many preferences on whiskey, but I recommend any bourbon. This is whiskey that is made from 51% corn mash, which makes the whiskey sweeter. Jim Beam and Wild Turkey are good bourbon, but my favorite is Maker's Mark. The wax cover is fun to play with and looks damn cool.
Smoothness: 0
Fuck-upness: 5

Whisky Sour
2 shots whisky
Country Time Lemonade to taste
Serve over ice
This has a little more oomph than its amaretto cousin, but is still pretty smooth. Serve this to women who want to look like hardcore boozers, but just aren't up to the task. Also good for lightweight men who have mocked the amaretto sour, and want a little more from their liquor. Garnish theirs with a kick in the head.
Smoothness: 4
Fuck-upness: 4

White Russian
1 shot vodka
1 shot Kahlua
Cream to taste
Serve over ice
This tamer version of the infamous Black Russian is a nice drink if you skipped lunch. It is heavy. And by heavy I mean Seok-in-a-lead-jumpsuit heavy. This drink will fuck you up, but you have to really try. I can never drink more than one and even then it's more than I want. I switch to Stevotinis fast.
Smoothness: 4
Fuck-upness: 1

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[09:03:03] Scabies Vector: Do you hate the white man?
[09:03:37] ciaograzioso: what did you say?
[09:03:45] Scabies Vector: The white man. Do you hate him?
[09:04:16] ciaograzioso: no
[09:04:20] Scabies Vector: Oh.
[09:04:29] Scabies Vector: Then what do you hate? AZNs?
[09:04:53] Scabies Vector: They have super kiki-pride in their rice, women, and slow but stupid looking automobiles.
[09:04:56] ciaograzioso: AZN?
[09:05:12] Scabies Vector: You know, AZN PRIDE!!##%#
[09:05:26] Scabies Vector: LOLOLOROOFLES
[09:05:45] ciaograzioso: no i don't know what you're talking about

[09:06:28] Scabies Vector: OK, well if you had to pick a race to hate, what would it be? Messicans?
[09:06:34] Scabies Vector: Those bastards are LAZY.
[09:06:36] ciaograzioso: no..
[09:06:40] ciaograzioso: they are you not
[09:06:54] ciaograzioso: you obviously don't live around farmers
[09:06:56] Scabies Vector: I had one try to wash my windshield at an intersection.
[09:07:08] ciaograzioso: so
[09:07:10] Scabies Vector: He didn't get out of the way quickly enough when the light turned green, so I ran over his foot.
[09:07:11] ciaograzioso: they're not lazy
[09:07:15] ciaograzioso: i don't hate any race
[09:07:24] ciaograzioso: that was mean
[09:07:32] Scabies Vector: Well, he didn't get out of the way...
[09:07:46] ciaograzioso: well, you coulda been patient
[09:07:49] Scabies Vector: Messicans are almost as lazy as canadians, when you get down to it.
[09:08:04] ciaograzioso: they are not, they're very good workers
[09:08:12] ciaograzioso: where are you getting your information
[09:08:13] Scabies Vector: But canadians don't even get out of my car's way...
[09:08:26] ciaograzioso: what do you just plain run them over
[09:08:34] Scabies Vector: sometimes
[09:08:40] Scabies Vector: Not out of spite.
[09:08:45] Scabies Vector: Well, ok, sometimes out of spite...
[09:09:32] Scabies Vector: Have you never run anyone over?
[09:09:36] ciaograzioso: no
[09:09:38] ciaograzioso: that's mean
[09:10:01] Scabies Vector: The first time I did, it tore the crap out of my tire.
[09:10:07] ciaograzioso: good
[09:10:12] Scabies Vector: One of their bones lodged in it, and popped it really badly.
[09:10:17] Scabies Vector: not good!
[09:10:20] ciaograzioso: that's sick
[09:10:27] ciaograzioso: i don't wanna know all that
[09:11:00] Scabies Vector: I had to pay like 130$ for a new tire...
[09:11:04] ciaograzioso: good
[09:11:12] Scabies Vector: Well...
[09:11:16] Scabies Vector: I found the guy's wife.
[09:11:17] ciaograzioso: well what?
[09:11:26] Scabies Vector: and beat her until she gave me the money for the tire...
[09:13:42] Scabies Vector: That was satisfying.
[09:13:55] ciaograzioso: i don't wanna know all that stuff
[09:14:00] ciaograzioso: i don't think it's funny either

[09:37:10] Scabies Vector: People are generally worthless...
[09:37:17] ciaograzioso: they are not
[09:37:26] Scabies Vector: Prove it.
[09:37:26] ciaograzioso: people have a lot of value
[09:37:36] Scabies Vector: OK, all I ask is you to prove it to me.
[09:38:06] ciaograzioso: if people were worthless, Jesus Christ wouldn't have died for them, not for you, for me, or for anyone else, but He did
[09:38:23] Scabies Vector: Jesus was a fag!
[09:38:31] ciaograzioso: prove it
[09:38:34] Scabies Vector: OK
[09:38:48] Scabies Vector: He told everyone that a man should never have relations with another man.
[09:38:50] Scabies Vector: You know why?
[09:38:57] Scabies Vector: So HE COULD HAVE ALL THE MEN FOR HIMSELF!

[09:39:56] ciaograzioso: so you're saying that Christ was gay
[09:40:11] ciaograzioso: you need more than logical reasoning to present something as a fact
[09:40:12] Scabies Vector: Well, he sure wasn't interested in the womenz.
[09:40:23] ciaograzioso: He was without sin....
[09:40:41] Scabies Vector: He was just desperate as hell to get laid, but nobody would do him.
[09:40:44] ciaograzioso: which means He couldn't have been a homosexual or heterosexual
[09:40:53] Scabies Vector: So he went gay.
[09:41:03] Scabies Vector: Gay guys will do anything... women have standards.
[09:42:03] ciaograzioso: men have standards too
[09:42:09] Scabies Vector: Not gay men.
[09:42:17] Scabies Vector: Fags will bone anything with an anus.

Do you like working hard at school? Do you really feel fulfilled when you put hours of work into a project and get back nothing more than a few streaks of ink crudely scrawled on it? Perhaps sometimes you feel like it wasn't worth missing that new episode of The Simpsons just to finish your Chemistry homework. Sometimes, you might even hear a small voice in the back of your head saying, "Screw this English project! Let's go dirt biking!" Well, guess what. That little voice is absolutely right. As a society, we put too much emphasis on doing well in school and don't spend enough time enjoying life like we should.

One of the most obvious problems with pouring our souls into school is we don't have time for anything else. Any student can tell you that school takes up too much of his free time anyway - what with all of the homework assigned and all of the tests students must spend hours studying for to do well on. Any students who puts enough time into their studies to do exceptionally well don't have time to hang out with their friends. Students are also left with no time to do other things that help us relax, like watching TV, reading a book that hasn't been assigned as an outside reading assignment, or maybe even playing with our dogs. Another activity limited by hard work is sleep! If students start doing their homework at a normal hour, say between seven and eight, they are often stuck with enough to keep them working well into eleven o' clock - when many students would rather be asleep than up doing school work. Often times, staying up too late leads to chronically sleepy students who don't get grades that truly reflect their potential because they can't work well enough on a sleep deficit.

A common argument heard by students all over from their parents is that they will have free time once they graduate, but we need to put every ounce of free time into getting good grades right now, so we can get a good, high-paying job. Our parents say once we graduate from college, we'll have plenty of free time to do as we please. There is a glaring problem with this thinking, though. Almost any sort of a high-paying job has a demanding work week and is highly stressful, leading to little or no free time for the worker, leaving no free time even into our adult years! The only free time someone is allowed is in the pre-kindergarten years, and, provided you live long enough, post-job years. Retirement. So people have to wait until they're 60 something to enjoy the fruits of their labor and finally live a (hopefully) stress free life. Life isn't supposed to be that way! These are the years of people's lives in that they are most physically capable, and they should not be spent in a cramped space in the library studying a subject which they will never use again in their lives. The time should be spent active: running, playing sports, biking, and having fun.

Another problem with working hard at school is the intense psychological stress it places students under. The students' minds are taken over by thoughts of when they should start on their paper, which test they should study for first, and that bad grade they made on the last quiz. This mental pressure leads to tons of stress placed on a still immature mind and can lead to many undesired side affects. One of these is even so common, it is generally accepted as a natural occurrence. Many people know it as teenage angst. Student gets irritable and hard to get along with and will often feel like some teacher is out to get them, or that nobody understands them at all, and they can't get help. Some more serious problems can also develop, including depression. Students can get depressed when they do everything in their power to do well in a class, and nothing seems to work. All of their efforts come to naught when they receive a less than satisfactory grade, and their failure almost shatters his self esteem. Students place too much emphasis on a meaningless number, and it breaks them.

The answer to this argument is becoming very standard, but it is faulty. Adults will argue that negative emotions and teenage angst are just a regular part of being a teen. Well, unless the problem is just drugs that are messing with a kid's mind, anger and frustration CAN be prevented by a simple thing: apathy. Obviously, too much of it is bad, and it can lead to a student flunking out of school and messing up his life in a whole other kind of way, but some apathy is needed to make it through school with sanity intact. Another common defense used by adults these days is we can just chemically fix a seriously depressed child. We have all sorts of wonderful mind altering drugs now - Prozac and Xanex among the more well known - to help teens cope with the stresses of everyday life. Well, isn't there an obvious problem with this solution? Drugs shouldn't be needed just to make someone happy; nothing should be needed to keep a teenager happy besides a few shiny things and a positive environment.

The most important reason NOT to work hard in school is your academic success in no way guarantees you success later in life. A good example would be my dad. He made it through high school making good grades, "Only when I wanted to." He graduated from Auburn University and is now making a 6-digit salary flying for a major airline. On the other end of the field, Dr. Mark Carleton was a self-described academic genius, making straight A's throughout school. He is now a neurotic, bitter young man making a lowly teacher's salary and having to work long hour weeks putting up with irritating adolescents who taunt him to no end. Which situation sounds easier? My father's, obviously, and he made it without working very hard at all!

At this point, most adults who want their children to work in school have a tough time coming up with a good counter-argument. Usually, they simply try to lie to their kids, convincing them they need to make good grades to make money. The adults try to steer the argument away from examples like poor old Mark Carleton and point it towards the rare exception: a man who worked to get rich. The problem with this point of view is it purposely ignores the majority of cases, using a few to make a point. One of the most overwhelming testaments to the invalidity of the argument is that the world's richest man is a slacker. That's right, Bill Gates dropped out of Harvard. Unfortunately for the adults, there is no substance to this argument saying we must work hard to succeed.

Obviously, our schools aren't going to change. They expect students to put in six-hour school days, then three hours extra of homework every day. The only way to combat this all too idealistic view on education is to... not fight back. Stop putting forth as much effort, enjoy the best years of your life. After all, after reaching eighteen years of age, the human body enters a gradual degradation that leads to our ultimate destruction. Why not enjoy the few years we have of peak strength, agility, and stamina to the fullest? After all, you only live once.

Do you like working hard at school? Do you really feel fulfilled when you put hours of work into a project and get back nothing more than a few streaks of ink crudely scrawled on it? Perhaps sometimes you feel like it wasn't worth missing that new episode of The Simpsons just to finish your Chemistry homework. Sometimes, you might even hear a small voice in the back of your head saying, "Screw this English project! Let's go dirt biking!" Well, guess what. That little voice is absolutely right. As a society, we put too much emphasis on doing well in school and don't spend enough time enjoying life like we should.

One of the most obvious problems with pouring our souls into school is we don't have time for anything else. Any student can tell you that school takes up too much of his free time anyway - what with all of the homework assigned and all of the tests students must spend hours studying for to do well on. Any students who puts enough time into their studies to do exceptionally well don't have time to hang out with their friends. Students are also left with no time to do other things that help us relax, like watching TV, reading a book that hasn't been assigned as an outside reading assignment, or maybe even playing with our dogs. Another activity limited by hard work is sleep! If students start doing their homework at a normal hour, say between seven and eight, they are often stuck with enough to keep them working well into eleven o' clock - when many students would rather be asleep than up doing school work. Often times, staying up too late leads to chronically sleepy students who don't get grades that truly reflect their potential because they can't work well enough on a sleep deficit.

A common argument heard by students all over from their parents is that they will have free time once they graduate, but we need to put every ounce of free time into getting good grades right now, so we can get a good, high-paying job. Our parents say once we graduate from college, we'll have plenty of free time to do as we please. There is a glaring problem with this thinking, though. Almost any sort of a high-paying job has a demanding work week and is highly stressful, leading to little or no free time for the worker, leaving no free time even into our adult years! The only free time someone is allowed is in the pre-kindergarten years, and, provided you live long enough, post-job years. Retirement. So people have to wait until they're 60 something to enjoy the fruits of their labor and finally live a (hopefully) stress free life. Life isn't supposed to be that way! These are the years of people's lives in that they are most physically capable, and they should not be spent in a cramped space in the library studying a subject which they will never use again in their lives. The time should be spent active: running, playing sports, biking, and having fun.

Another problem with working hard at school is the intense psychological stress it places students under. The students' minds are taken over by thoughts of when they should start on their paper, which test they should study for first, and that bad grade they made on the last quiz. This mental pressure leads to tons of stress placed on a still immature mind and can lead to many undesired side affects. One of these is even so common, it is generally accepted as a natural occurrence. Many people know it as teenage angst. Student gets irritable and hard to get along with and will often feel like some teacher is out to get them, or that nobody understands them at all, and they can't get help. Some more serious problems can also develop, including depression. Students can get depressed when they do everything in their power to do well in a class, and nothing seems to work. All of their efforts come to naught when they receive a less than satisfactory grade, and their failure almost shatters his self esteem. Students place too much emphasis on a meaningless number, and it breaks them.

The answer to this argument is becoming very standard, but it is faulty. Adults will argue that negative emotions and teenage angst are just a regular part of being a teen. Well, unless the problem is just drugs that are messing with a kid's mind, anger and frustration CAN be prevented by a simple thing: apathy. Obviously, too much of it is bad, and it can lead to a student flunking out of school and messing up his life in a whole other kind of way, but some apathy is needed to make it through school with sanity intact. Another common defense used by adults these days is we can just chemically fix a seriously depressed child. We have all sorts of wonderful mind altering drugs now - Prozac and Xanex among the more well known - to help teens cope with the stresses of everyday life. Well, isn't there an obvious problem with this solution? Drugs shouldn't be needed just to make someone happy; nothing should be needed to keep a teenager happy besides a few shiny things and a positive environment.

The most important reason NOT to work hard in school is your academic success in no way guarantees you success later in life. A good example would be my dad. He made it through high school making good grades, "Only when I wanted to." He graduated from Auburn University and is now making a 6-digit salary flying for a major airline. On the other end of the field, Dr. Mark Carleton was a self-described academic genius, making straight A's throughout school. He is now a neurotic, bitter young man making a lowly teacher's salary and having to work long hour weeks putting up with irritating adolescents who taunt him to no end. Which situation sounds easier? My father's, obviously, and he made it without working very hard at all!

At this point, most adults who want their children to work in school have a tough time coming up with a good counter-argument. Usually, they simply try to lie to their kids, convincing them they need to make good grades to make money. The adults try to steer the argument away from examples like poor old Mark Carleton and point it towards the rare exception: a man who worked to get rich. The problem with this point of view is it purposely ignores the majority of cases, using a few to make a point. One of the most overwhelming testaments to the invalidity of the argument is that the world's richest man is a slacker. That's right, Bill Gates dropped out of Harvard. Unfortunately for the adults, there is no substance to this argument saying we must work hard to succeed.

Obviously, our schools aren't going to change. They expect students to put in six-hour school days, then three hours extra of homework every day. The only way to combat this all too idealistic view on education is to... not fight back. Stop putting forth as much effort, enjoy the best years of your life. After all, after reaching eighteen years of age, the human body enters a gradual degradation that leads to our ultimate destruction. Why not enjoy the few years we have of peak strength, agility, and stamina to the fullest? After all, you only live once.

[09:03:03] Scabies Vector: Do you hate the white man?
[09:03:37] ciaograzioso: what did you say?
[09:03:45] Scabies Vector: The white man. Do you hate him?
[09:04:16] ciaograzioso: no
[09:04:20] Scabies Vector: Oh.
[09:04:29] Scabies Vector: Then what do you hate? AZNs?
[09:04:53] Scabies Vector: They have super kiki-pride in their rice, women, and slow but stupid looking automobiles.
[09:04:56] ciaograzioso: AZN?
[09:05:12] Scabies Vector: You know, AZN PRIDE!!##%#
[09:05:26] Scabies Vector: LOLOLOROOFLES
[09:05:45] ciaograzioso: no i don't know what you're talking about

[09:06:28] Scabies Vector: OK, well if you had to pick a race to hate, what would it be? Messicans?
[09:06:34] Scabies Vector: Those bastards are LAZY.
[09:06:36] ciaograzioso: no..
[09:06:40] ciaograzioso: they are you not
[09:06:54] ciaograzioso: you obviously don't live around farmers
[09:06:56] Scabies Vector: I had one try to wash my windshield at an intersection.
[09:07:08] ciaograzioso: so
[09:07:10] Scabies Vector: He didn't get out of the way quickly enough when the light turned green, so I ran over his foot.
[09:07:11] ciaograzioso: they're not lazy
[09:07:15] ciaograzioso: i don't hate any race
[09:07:24] ciaograzioso: that was mean
[09:07:32] Scabies Vector: Well, he didn't get out of the way...
[09:07:46] ciaograzioso: well, you coulda been patient
[09:07:49] Scabies Vector: Messicans are almost as lazy as canadians, when you get down to it.
[09:08:04] ciaograzioso: they are not, they're very good workers
[09:08:12] ciaograzioso: where are you getting your information
[09:08:13] Scabies Vector: But canadians don't even get out of my car's way...
[09:08:26] ciaograzioso: what do you just plain run them over
[09:08:34] Scabies Vector: sometimes
[09:08:40] Scabies Vector: Not out of spite.
[09:08:45] Scabies Vector: Well, ok, sometimes out of spite...
[09:09:32] Scabies Vector: Have you never run anyone over?
[09:09:36] ciaograzioso: no
[09:09:38] ciaograzioso: that's mean
[09:10:01] Scabies Vector: The first time I did, it tore the crap out of my tire.
[09:10:07] ciaograzioso: good
[09:10:12] Scabies Vector: One of their bones lodged in it, and popped it really badly.
[09:10:17] Scabies Vector: not good!
[09:10:20] ciaograzioso: that's sick
[09:10:27] ciaograzioso: i don't wanna know all that
[09:11:00] Scabies Vector: I had to pay like 130$ for a new tire...
[09:11:04] ciaograzioso: good
[09:11:12] Scabies Vector: Well...
[09:11:16] Scabies Vector: I found the guy's wife.
[09:11:17] ciaograzioso: well what?
[09:11:26] Scabies Vector: and beat her until she gave me the money for the tire...
[09:13:42] Scabies Vector: That was satisfying.
[09:13:55] ciaograzioso: i don't wanna know all that stuff
[09:14:00] ciaograzioso: i don't think it's funny either

[09:37:10] Scabies Vector: People are generally worthless...
[09:37:17] ciaograzioso: they are not
[09:37:26] Scabies Vector: Prove it.
[09:37:26] ciaograzioso: people have a lot of value
[09:37:36] Scabies Vector: OK, all I ask is you to prove it to me.
[09:38:06] ciaograzioso: if people were worthless, Jesus Christ wouldn't have died for them, not for you, for me, or for anyone else, but He did
[09:38:23] Scabies Vector: Jesus was a fag!
[09:38:31] ciaograzioso: prove it
[09:38:34] Scabies Vector: OK
[09:38:48] Scabies Vector: He told everyone that a man should never have relations with another man.
[09:38:50] Scabies Vector: You know why?
[09:38:57] Scabies Vector: So HE COULD HAVE ALL THE MEN FOR HIMSELF!

[09:39:56] ciaograzioso: so you're saying that Christ was gay
[09:40:11] ciaograzioso: you need more than logical reasoning to present something as a fact
[09:40:12] Scabies Vector: Well, he sure wasn't interested in the womenz.
[09:40:23] ciaograzioso: He was without sin....
[09:40:41] Scabies Vector: He was just desperate as hell to get laid, but nobody would do him.
[09:40:44] ciaograzioso: which means He couldn't have been a homosexual or heterosexual
[09:40:53] Scabies Vector: So he went gay.
[09:41:03] Scabies Vector: Gay guys will do anything... women have standards.
[09:42:03] ciaograzioso: men have standards too
[09:42:09] Scabies Vector: Not gay men.
[09:42:17] Scabies Vector: Fags will bone anything with an anus.

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