Fantastic! As hit-or-miss points out, The Hero Machine is even cooler than StorTroopers. Check out my badass self over there! That’s Blaster Web-Goddess, in case you’re wondering. (You can click on the picture to see the enlarged version.) She lost an eye a few years back during a shootout with her mortal enemy, The Weaver. She’s sworn revenge, of course, and now she stalks a post-apocalyptic I.T. universe in pursuit of the vile miscreant, only pausing to help out HTMLers in distress along the way. Ennio Morricone is composing her theme song as we speak. 🙂

The Observer finally published my letter to the editor!

That young boy, Scott Delgadillo, the one that came to the Purdue game with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, died Monday night. *sniff*

The Observer published my letter!

Holy cow! Next Wednesday is officially “Sex Day” on Dawson’s Creek! Check out the trailer for the episode.

Dilbert.com apparently unveiled a new design for their home page sometime during the last month. I like it, but I wish they’d move all the interior pages over to the new format.

I just suddenly remembered the craziest dream I had last night. The Weasels (including me) were playing interhall football against Siegfried (who are now male, in case any alumnae don’t know) in my high school gym. The stands were full and there was a solid division down the middle between the sea of purple on the left and the sea of red on the right. (Are Siegfried red? I have no clue.) Anyway, the Weasels were winning 20-7 and the crowd was going nuts. Our side kept repeating this cheer that went something like, “We are the Weasels, and you can kiss our ass! Yes, you can kiss our ass!” Lizzie was quarterbacking and the Siegfried defense had pushed us back to one corner of the gym floor, and our backs were literally against the wall. So we were huddled up trying to figure out a play to call. I was in favor of a Quarterback Draw (or as we used to call it, “Get the Fuck Out”) where the line would push everybody to the left and Lizzie would scamper down the sideline (i.e. the front of the bleachers). But we were also debating whether we could protect her long enough to throw a long bomb down the floor to Kel, who then needed to scamper to the out-of-bounds line to score the touchdown. Faced with this quandry… I woke up.

The Observer officially sucks today and I refuse to link to a single article. And they didn’t print my letter yet. Bastards.

Matt at Scrubbles links to an excellent article by Christopher Kelly of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram about the “herd mentality” of most movie critics when it comes to picking the best films of the year. After reading it I immediately went back to read Ebert’s Top Ten list, and I was disappointed to see that his choices mostly lined up with everybody else’s. He does mention some more obscure and interesting titles in his “Special Jury Prizes” and “Honorable Mentions,” though. I still like the Eeb… His taste in film, while perhaps sometimes pedestrian, is very similar to my own and I always enjoy his sense of humor, especially in his Movie Answer Man column.

Remember that Republican ex-boyfriend I mentioned? In a stunning example of Conservative smugness, waste, excess, and hubris, he spent nine dollars Fed Ex-ing me a stack of pro-Bush articles he printed off the Internet. In color. All the way to London. And he prefaced it with the letter he received from Jeb Bush thanking him for his support. Can you believe that? (Don’t worry, Mark. Liberals like me are usually very forgiving, so you may be able to atone for this crime someday.)