8.29

My room mate rambles, throughly dampening the walls with words. They splash onto every surface, coating it with slick, impenetrable goo. Everything I touch now slowly slimes me and I can't get it off my hands. I can't escape. I sit down to study and his words prick the skin on my back. I try to escape to the internet but his words bind my hands to the keyboard.

He talks too much.

(also: whatever, I don't care)

I didn't write this but it is brilliant.

NSFW 302-8a3

Hereby designated Specimen 8a3, it is a small example of an object classified as NSFW-302 under the █████████ Multi Level Catalog. Specimen 8a3 is a small 102x232 image retrieved from the browser cache of support personnel 821311 during the investigation that ensued after 821311's desiccated body was found in sub level B32.

Specimen 8a3 is known to induce violent bleeding in most test subjects from several orifices, most notably the eye sockets. In addition, some individuals may be compelled to perform acts of ████████, wherein pieces of clothing are ███████ and other bodily fluids forcibly ██████ █████. In all cases where the viewing time was enough for cognitive registration, subjects are either killed instantly due to trauma and/or excessive blood loss or otherwise reduced to a permanent vegetative state.

The nature of psychological hazard posed by Specimen 8a3 makes analysis difficult. Copies of the image exhibit the same properties. Color shifting and other image distortion methods prove ineffective in mitigating its effects. Based on data acquired from fragments of the image, Specimen 8a3 is known to be mostly flesh toned although some, generally from the central region of 8a3 have more reddish hues. There is also what appears to be a human ██████ in one of the fragments, awaiting the results of further analysis for confirmation. Histogram data from multiple instances indicate the image may be polymorphic as well.

Specimen 8a3 is currently protected by multi-factor encryption and stored in a ███████ thumb drive physically secured in Facility ████. Based on the circumstances surrounding the discovery of the specimen, it is highly likely that copies are still floating around the internet, although there have been no further reports of cases matching the effects of Specimen 8a3. The Foundation has enacted Protocol ███ in an effort to catch a copy in the wild, and proxy servers have been installed in major office buildings around the world that will attempt to recognize 8a3, but success is limited by the polymorphic nature of the subject.

8.28

I wrapped the gerbil tighter into my coat. Even if I wouldn't make it, Francis would still have a fighting chance.

I struggled through the waist-deep cotton candy until I made it to the wall. Sweat slowly crawled down my back, wetting the cotton candy already stuck there, weighing me down. I thought of the raisins in my pocket, and decided to wait until the opportune time.

I slowly snowplowed my way up the stairs, struggling to gain purchase with my novelty clown shoes. After 37 steps and an eternity of effort, I reached the top of the stairs, and a fairly clear area at the top where he stood.

"Oh, mighty wizard of enchantments and abjurations!" I cried. "I beseech thee, stop this plague and take the princess instead!" I beseeched. "You lay waste to our lands in the name of love, and we can scarce find the resources to fight you! Besides, the princess isn't that hot anyway!"
"ARE YOU SAYING YOU GIVE UP?" came the booming reply.

"Essentially, yes."

"HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHA HA. I wiiiin I wiiiiin! You lose, I win NANANANANANA NA."

The fact that he was a sore winner wasn't making this any easier. Slowly, I drew the raisins from my pocket. "Well, if you're going to be like that . . ."

I flung them at him and yelled "DRIED FRUIT!"

He stared in shock for a split second, caught inbetween two "HAs" and a triple "NA" stream. Then the raisins hit him in the face, and he shrieked in terror.

"YOU KNOW I HATE DRIED FRUIT! NOW IT'S STUCK IN MY COLLAR YOU STUPID IDIOT! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET IT OUT? GAH THIS IS WHY MY MOTHER ALWAYS TOLD ME TO NOT WEAR LACE."

I turned with Francis and ran down the stairs as the wizard slowly picked raisins out of his clothing.

I think I won.

8.27

New School Year

He walked down the long [stupid] hallway to his first [insufferable] class. He [wearily] took a seat near the front of the classroom [because teachers always watch the back]. He arranged four [boring][black] pens on his desk and shuffled [useless] papers around in his [undersized] backpack. He felt like [cursing] using the restroom, but he thought that [he would be kicked out] he could hold it.

The [Ponce] professor [slouched] walked in and [horrified] addressed the [menial mind slaves] class.
"My name is Professor [Prickworthy Pooppants] Lane, and if you [want to leave] have any questions, address them to [my rump] me. If any of you are [more intelligent than me] in the wrong [hellhole] class, now would be a good time to [hit me in the face with a brick] leave. I [eat babies] hope you all [shrink up and die] have [two guns to do the job] a [minor migrane] good [psychiatrist] year."

He [smacked the desk in frustration, stood and chewed out the teacher for arriving late, stormed around the front of the room, declaiming the school, professor, and program for instituting such a useless, idiotic class, with absolutely no viable positive effect on his skills or knowledge] smiled.

He was ready for class.

[Hardly.]