I don't know what I'd do with a semester system; as it is, my motivation always runs out about two weeks before the term ends. With two finals and one possible homework set left, I'm starting to really look forward to going home and having my wisdom teeth pulled. Vicodin, Harry Potter, no physics, and soup - what more could I ask for?



Meanwhile, I'd like to train the feminist ray gun on an anti-drug ad - it takes something special to piss me off when I'm eating pickled herring and drinking a good beer to celebrate the end of my complex-analysis-homework-doing career, and this had that special something. Two teenagers at a house party, one girl, one boy, both taking hits off a circulating pipe. Girl is obviously, gigglingly stoned, boy is less so; girl falls down on couch next to boy, who promptly puts his hand down her shirt. Cut to boy's hand putting the pipe down on the table as girl mumbles "nrrgh" and text appears on screen reading Marijuana can impair your judgement. Harmless?



I mean, fuck. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure having sex with someone who is obviously too stoned to say anything more than "nrrgh" constitutes rape. If you interpret "nrrgh" as a clear refusal of consent (hey, it sounded like "no" to me), then it's really, incontrovertibly rape by any loosely sane definition of the term. Being raped is not something you ask for when you smoke a joint. Lacking the strength to say more than "nrrgh" is not an error of judgement. I mean, fuck.



Sure, it's a stupid move to get that stoned around people you can't trust. But the girl's moment of impaired judgement happened at the very beginning of the ad, while the text doesn't appear until the end.
I guess it's just the social conservatives consolidating their agenda - irrational fear of drugs and irrational fear of sex, all in one professionally produced package! Hurrah!



I mean, fuck.

Meanwhile, my web host decided to do a few "upgrades" - and by "upgrades" they mostly mean "move directories around for no good reason, screwing up everyone's scripts". A few things are back in order, and hopefully that's enough to carry all y'all crazy addicts through the next two weeks; updates and maintenance will be slim to none until I'm done with finals.

I had the nerd-trendiest Thanksgiving ever: drove to San Jose Wednesday night, ate non-stop turducken on Thursday and Friday, and went geocaching on Saturday. Geocaching was very close to perfectly wholesome, except I ripped a big hole in the butt of my pants and went around
for several hours showing my underwear to the world.
Today I learned once more that California is a really big state that takes a long time to drive through. I am thankful for candy corn, organic carrot juice, duck fat, thimbles, felt-tip markers, the word "finagle", nail clippers, and vanilla. I am not thankful for finals, George W. Bush, books about why women should be submissive in marriage, or quarters that have been too munged-up to fit in the washing machine slot.



The great and powerful Rasmus is now safely ensconced on my living room couch; watch his blog for hijinks and catty remarks about the filth in my kitchen.