The author is an unpredictable, disillusioned biologist who has long since quit hanging around supposedly sterile environments, processing icky bodily substances from humans, and turned to teaching students to release icky bodily substances from frogs. When not making a hell of a lot of noise on an oversized metal slide whistle with delusions of grandeur, the author entertains hallucinations of becoming Supremely Evil World Tyrant of Pink Bunnies (which is occurring on a disturbingly regular basis). The Surgeon General has determined that this post may be detrimental to your ocular and mental health. If you experience dizziness, migraines, shortness of breath or temporary insanity, please report to the nearest hospital for medical aid.
The author would also like to state for the record that the author is *not* a crazed, romantic
serial killer who keeps the heads and body parts of victims on display in various rooms of the house.
[At biology class, discussing photosynthesis and leaves]
STUDENT: Teacher, why doesn't this look the same as the onion cells we saw in school? Don't onions have chloroplasts?
ME: No. Okay, think. Where do onions grow?
STUDENT: [thinking] On trees?
[At a recent massive political dinner, where the VIP is a major political figure]
POLITICIAN: I was here recently to officiate the extension of [the local] airport. This is the first time I've seen an extension that's even LONGER than the original! [audience laughs]
MY DISGRUNTLED PARTNER: [muttering] Yeah, we use it for our rocket launcher.

... To spring clean my gallery again. I got into another of my "I hate everything I did!" moods and threw out more than 60 drawings, fractals and photos, including a whole bunch of popular paintings and four chapters of Project Garrity (because not even that is spared my wrath). But they're still in my scrapbook if you want to see them (and they're still archived in my numerous folders). I admit that I'm that weak in actually throwing stuff
away.

[ I'm stealing this idea from you,

]
Ever had a question you wanted to ask me, but never had the chance to? Want to know what coloured socks I wear, if they match, or if I ever wash them? How I can claim to like the durian, a fruit that tastes like heaven but smells like hell? Leave a comment at this journal and ask away.

I'll answer all questions. If I feel they're improper, you get smacked in the head with a frozen mackerel. Or worse, one of my unwashed socks.
For all you know, I may even archive some of the more entertaining Q&As in my next journal entry.

...

~
The-Blonde-Vortex,

's completely random sister, to Deviant Art! She's only 16, but she already has her own distinctive style (and mind you, they're very good paintings). Check out some of her deviations here:
You took your ID down...
--
"You spell like a retarded monkey!" - ~Mira-Jade to ~The-Blonde-Vortex
--
"I know you're not Garrity, but you're not exactly sane either." - Maquaii.
=DA-Networking | ~SDS-PAGE | *sw-KotOR
--
"You spell like a retarded monkey!" - ~Mira-Jade to ~The-Blonde-Vortex
--
"I know you're not Garrity, but you're not exactly sane either." - Maquaii.
=DA-Networking | ~SDS-PAGE | *sw-KotOR
["To look for garden fertiliser" lol is that a euphemism for 'human matchmaking' or mere fun nonsense?]
--
"Let us meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beggining of love"
- Mother Teresa
And er... the "garden fertiliser" bit is a joke referring to my Garrity diaries.
--
"I know you're not Garrity, but you're not exactly sane either." - Maquaii.
=DA-Networking | ~SDS-PAGE | *sw-KotOR
I'm into gardening as well, (though I'm nothing to do with murders) and right now I'm trying to harvest pumpkins. I've already seen the dotted big leaves of it. It's satisfying, indeed.
--
"Let us meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beggining of love"
- Mother Teresa
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