Just Believe


Halloween rocked the jeezy fo’ veezy.

I swear, I wore the best costume ever today, but barely anyone noticed how awesome it was. They were all taken by the girls who dressed up as prostitutes. But I’m getting off topic – let’s talk more about costumes.

At lunch, there was a costume contest, and James and I actually went to it. James even participated. His costume was a paper taped to his chest with the word “CANADIAN” written on it. Of course, he was still wearing clothes under it. Anyway, he entered the contest along side the belly dancers, pimps, and angels, and came out in FIRST PLACE. That’s right – he won. The entire school was cheering for him. I hope that made his day. Just don’t tell him that I actually fixed the whole contest – I gave the ASB president a few weeks of my salary and consequently James won a Fun Size Three Musketeers bar – knowing that would just break his heart.

Nick was Elftor.

Then my sister wanted me to “accompany” her while trick-or-treating… this means tagging along behind her while she and her friends talk shit about all the un-popular kids in their school. Fortunately, I was exempted from that activity.


After about an hour of wondering what plans would be, 80’s Guy, J4V4 and I found our way over to Hannah‘s house where she, her friend Lindsey (?), and us three went trick-or-treating. People found J4V4’s antics pretty amusing… he was the main attraction. I got some Peeps and a few Crunch bars, but it was nothing compared to the ENTIRE BAG OF CRUNCH BARS (not exaggerating) that Hannah got.

Then we watched the beginning of RHPS. Overall, a very good Halloween… seeing that I didn’t do anything in comparison last year.

captaincanada231: Blog?

Dammit, Giants, and you were doing so well…

I went to the Oasis finally, but a lot of no one was there. At least I got to hang out with a few old faces… a few Terra Linda grads and other people I haven’t seen in years. James and I also asked to be offered drugs so we could JUST SAY NO. We also played a lot of DDR as always (time to freestyle it / don’t kick the can-baby) and Chris was there.

Next day – wow, that’s today! – I “went to the gym” which really consisted of going to a nearby Tully’s to pick up one of their amazing Espresso Shakes and Marble Pound Cake, and then spending ten minutes on a treadmill. Hell, I had to get back to play Kingdom Hearts. That’s a good enough reason.

Then I went to see Sale of a Deathman put on by my school’s drama department. Acting- and tech- wise, it was probably the best performance I’ve ever seen them do. And let me tell you, the kids at my school can act. Specifically, the people who played Biff (Ben Muller) and, uh, Willy’s wife (Veronica Mannion) were simply awesome – they both brought me to tears (OMG I AM SO GAY).

And then I DIDN’T watch Bowling for Columbine like I originally had intended. I wanted to see the latest creation of what Pom Pom dressed up as, because I just recently saw his “Roger and Me” and that got its point across pretty damn well, although I totally disagree with his viewpoint.

Instead, I played Kingdom Hearts for 5 hours. Woot, Dan Castellaneta and Gilbert Gottfried are both in it. People complaining about Disney’s lack of advertising budget for KH should at least be happy about Disney’s voice actor budget.

The Watch Who Lost Track of Time

Sounds pretty dumb, eh? Well, I had a week to write a 3-page story for English about anthropomorphism, so I threw this together at the last moment. I’m sharing it because I like how I just started writing the thing, and ended up with a moral that mostly makes sense. Also, it sort of retells my stories from Europe. Have a read.

I was put on display on November 20 at exactly 7:34 AM. I was a new model, so I was placed at the window of my store. I could look up at the giant building across from me, where people entered, spent about 10 hours of their day inside, and exited. I watched them enter and exit along with the sun for 32 days, 3 hours, and 16 minutes.

On December 22, 10:50 AM, a man rushed into the store, yanked me out of the display case, slammed me onto the counter, paid for me, and ran out the door, stuffing me into his pocket. This man, a 38-year- and 2-month-old man, had promised his son the Illuminator RX600 watch with a digital hour- and minute-hand display and a separate date window. I am that watch.

He threw me into a box and tossed me under the Christmas tree before anyone could see him do it – he was a bit late in his Christmas shopping. On December 25, 6:54 AM, I heard someone stomping down the stairs. 7 seconds later, my container was lifted high into the air, and I heard its exterior being ripped to shreds. Light filled my container, and as my liquid crystal adjusted to the light, I saw the face of a 10-year- and 2-month old boy gazing at me in wonder. He reached in and swung me around by my wristband.

He burst outside into the snow and spent 58 minutes running from friend’s house to friend’s house obsessing over me. After he was content that the whole neighborhood had heard about me, he took me off complaining that the wristband buckle irritated him, and tossed me onto his night table. I slid across the table, smacked myself against the wall, fell into the gap between the two, and found myself in the corner of the room under the table. I thought that this boy who I knew just loved me would come back in a few minutes and retrieve me.

2 years, 7 months, and 8 days later, the 40-year- and 9-month-old man who bought me reached a hand under my night table and found me. He smirked at me, realizing that his boy had not worn me ever since a short time after he opened my box, held me in front of a fellow clock to see if I had the right time, and set me forward an hour – daylight savings time, of course.

The man looked me over more carefully. He noticed the four – count’em, four – buttons on my side, as well as my backlight and versatile stopwatch mode. He looked down at the analog watch on his wrist, and then back at me. Sighing, he undid his watch and put me in its place. I finally had an owner.

This man, I found out, was an airplane pilot. He usually made international flights, to places like Paris and Italy, so he changed my time display almost every day – so much that even I lost track of the time. At least he paid attention to me and made sure that I was accurate to the millisecond. I had a great time in my travels, living a life as a watch, careless of how much time passed by.

The man spent time off in popular places, and I was given time to see the sights. There was the time when my owner clumsily adjusted me while leaning over the side of the Eiffel Tower. I remember looking up into the night sky in London and seeing a giant face, boasting extravagant hour- and minute-hands against a decorative roman numeral display – that was Big Ben. Italy, though, was the place where it all ended.

My owner had taken his family on a trip to Venice. It sort of tickled to have pigeons land on me in the grand San Marcos Square, and I felt honored to serve as the flashlight as we made our ways through narrow, rustic alleyways. I was dipped more than once in the tomato sauce of the exquisite food that my owner dined on, and I even got a taste of the original Italian gelato. But on a gondola ride, I felt my buckle coming loose from my worn-down plastic wristband, and – plop! I fell off the side and into the canal, and as I sank to the bottom I saw my owner looking back at me, fruitlessly attempting to retrieve me.

This was my second time that I was lost and forgotten, but I was able again to do what I was made to do – to count the time. 15 years, 4 months, 16 days, 8 hours, 28 minutes, and 22 seconds had passed when my batteries finally died out. I cannot say whether it was an eternity or just a few more months until I was found again – all I can say is that I spent the best days of my life without a care in the world – not even my own reason for being got in my way. I think that everyone and everything should have a chance to experience those kinds of moments.

I guess I can give this sort of an epilogue that ties in to real life. I think that the reason that I chose a watch for my anthropomorphic object was because I wore a watch for about a year that I had I found in about 3-foot-deep water in Lerici, Italy, a small city off Italy’s west coast. Just like in the story, it glowed and stopped working, but mine stopped working in less than a year. Oh well.

100 Votes and Maybe More

Almasy Marquis’s new site design is friggin’ awesome. Check out that shiznit.

As you can see from today’s comic, I am slightly peeved about what gets the attention of most internet users out there. And I was just thinking… of course the art style could be totally co-incidental, but I’d like to see a pencil-and-paper drawing by this Mr. Furious character. Then we’ll see how much of an artist this guy is. Of course, I shouldn’t be talking.

DDRty last night – we modded our two cheap pads to perfection. Medium-density fiberboard, thick vinyl floor runner, double-sided duct and packaging tape, and one whole lot of thapleth. (The ones we put in were too far apart and most came out, so I came back the next day with my dad’s electric staple gun. WHEE HEE!)

The pads work perfectly, and the decision to put an extra layer of floor runner underneath the buttons worked out perfectly – they’re probably the best pads I’ve danced on, even off the arcade. Our club will now rock.

Unfortunately, I can barely fit them in my car, so I think they’ll be staying at school. Fortunately, they’re too heavy to be stolen.

Anyway, the party was complete with some awesome music CDs compiled by James, lots of pizza, soda, and brownies, DDR 3rd and 5th Mix, and some Newgrounds classics.

This picture is so ninesome.

Then I had to drive Sophie all the way back to Woodacre (read: far away in the middle of nowhere), but that was fine since I picked up a giant piña colada slushee and we got very close to running these racers over (people running 300 miles for the cure through the freezing night, ugh).

Time to do homework. I also should get to drawing a lot of scantilly clad girls for tomorrow’s comic.


A lot of exciting events are coming up this weekend. I’ll just mention them here so I don’t forget about any of them later.

Tonight I see my drama and choir teacher, Ms. Stroeh, sing at a local bar. She’s started a singing career last year and already has her second CD in the works, and has become an international sensation (that is, in San Rafael and some pub in London that she sang in). She goes under the stage name “Moxyblue” and composes, writes, sings and plays all of her own music.

Tomorrow, James is throwing a DDRty at his house… sorta. We’re inviting people from our DDR Club to come and modify some pads with us so they’re more durable and stationary (the process involves plywood… wackiness ensues). I heard we might also be watching a movie. Maybe the Lion King or the Little Mermaid to please, ahem, the entire audience.

And on Sunday it’s my currently unpaid teacher’s aide position for a while, and then I go to my school’s Senior Girl Car Wash, which will definitely be the source of at least one comic.

That’s all, Jeffrey. I hope you remember to go to all of them.

Thanks, I’ll try.

New design

You probably haven’t noticed since you still take pride in visiting designs that I made about a year ago, but I’ve got a new site design.

And it is CAR.

I update CAR much more than I update my blog, because of this phenomenon we call time – I put CAR at a higher priority, so I spend most of my time on that, not leaving much for this blog. It’s not a big deal, you should enjoy CAR if you enjoy reading my blog. Besides, v5 may not be far off – I have never promised myself that I will continue my comic for a certain amount of time – if I run out of ideas or my enthusiasm wears out, I will discontinue it before it starts to really hurt.

So for those of you that want the old site back, and those that fear change: I am change.


I, friends, am an optimist.

No matter how bad the situation, I will always try to make it better. No matter how trivial the situation, I will blow it up to such a degree that I can make it better. And I am very persistent in trying to solve things.

Feeling bad? Don’t. I’m here. I won’t let you feel what comes naturally.

Want to keep a secret? Don’t worry, if everyone knows it, it’s not such a big deal. Chin up.

Will everything be okay, no matter what? Yes, it sure will. No one will get hurt just as long as everyone is positive. No matter how grave the condition, everyone will come out feeling happy. Will they come out better than when they started, though? That’s not the point.

Stop it. Now. Do what I say. I am an optimist and I will not rest until I have changed things.


Today I took the SAT IIs in Writing, Math II, and French. It went okay.
I did my best in writing. Although I couldn’t give my essay (on consciousness) the conclusion it deserved, I completed all the questions and could find a good answer for almost all of them.
French was… all right. I didn’t get to a lot and there was much more reading comprehension than I thought… and vocab was a bitch.
Math II? I curse my dad for convincing me to take it. It’s not completely his fault, though – the awful Peterson’s Math I and II prep book was so inaccurate that it made the Math II look like a piece of cake… which so goddamn wasn’t. I’m going to have to take the Math I later, I guess.

Right after the SATs, James, Omid and I went over to the mall, where I picked up my long-awaited copy of Kingdom Hearts. I’ve gotten as far as being able to take control of the Gummi Ship, and it’s AMAZING. All the Final Fantasy characters simply excite me. I have yet to see Cloud or Sephiroth, though. Oooooh.

I went DDRing with JamesBryanAdam. James did Rhythm and Police again and GODDAMN STOP THAT IT HURTS. Because it’s good. And then we sang about vaginas KoRn-style on the way home.

…your period and…