It's been a year - iz bak!

It's been, like... 370 days since I posted on the Cult, and it's about time that sitcheeyayshun was remedied. No worries, I'll be going into my college experience thusfar in excruciating detail. But it can pretty much be summed up like so:

Bleeeeegh

I got the news that I've been accepted to Missouri State University in Springfield. Finally. My major is Pre-Law, but I'm not sure I'm going to stick with it. Who knows.

I have to choose my living arrangements now, but it doesn't really matter since privacy is out the window anyhow. I'm not sure whether I want a two-person or four-person dorm room.

I'm so tired of trying to plan this out.

We've been dating for four months, and he wants to marry me. And not in the sense that that's the eventual long-term goal... he won't stop talking about the ring he's picking out. It's making me more than a little nervous. I love David, and I have every intention of marrying him someday - but I don't want to be a teenage bride. I don't know how to talk to him about this. He's considerably older than I am and it's much more reasonable for him to get married than it is for me.

Bah, to hell with it.

It's all fun and games till the mother of three dies

A radio station in Sacramento is facing some serious charges after holding a water-drinking contest (dubbed "Hold your Wee for a Wii") which caused water intoxication in Jennifer Lea Strange, who was found deceased in her apartment mere hours later. What makes it worse? The people responsible for hosting the stunt knew the risks - even the risk of death.

Judy Linder, a registered nurse, was listening to the program and was so alarmed that she asked a colleague to call and warn the station."She told them you could die from water intoxication," Linder told ABC affiliate KXTV in Sacramento. "He [the disc jockey] pretty much blew that off and said they signed a release so, so what? Then he said why don't your guys come down here and do it, and we said because we don't want to die."

According to a tape of the show, the disc jockeys appeared to joke about the possible dangers of consuming too much water and alluded to a college student who had died during such a stunt in 2005."Yeah, we're aware of that," one of the disc jockeys said. Another disc jockey said: "Yeah. They signed releases, so we're not responsible. We're OK.""And if they get to the point where they have to throw up, then they're going to throw up, and they're out of the contest before they die, so that's good, right?" another disc jockey said.

And staff at the radio station knew Mrs. Strange was in pain.

Disc Jockey: "Jennifer, I heard you were not doing too well."


Strange:"My head hurts."


Disc Jockey: "Aw."


Strange: "They keep telling me it's the water. It will tell my head to hurt and that it will make me puke, but."


Disc Jockey: "Who told you that? The intern?"


Strange: "Yeah. It makes you. … It hurts, but it makes me feel lightheaded."

10 staff members - including the DJs - were fired as the result of this tragedy. Here's the big question: Should they have been fired, or was Mrs. Strange to blame for her own voluntary participation? Should the staff face legal charges and/or jail time for this tragedy?

The good bishop Katie

On my 18th birthday I went into the nearest Bank of America and got a checking and savings account made up with the help of a sweaty, nervous-looking man in his 30's who obviously didn't much like his job. I gave him a lot of information, he did a lot of typing, and when all my paperwork was finally printed out, there was a damn typo. Where it should have said "Katherine J. Hartman," it said:

Bishop Katherine Hartman

This, I maintain, is divine intervention; but unfortunately, my bank account pretty much has to have the right name. So I told the kind man to fix the problem, please and thank-you.

So, a week later, my debit card and checks show up with "Bishop Katherine Hartman" all over them, and I'm a little pissed.

Ironically, the bill for the checks came today. It was addressed to "Katherine J. Hartman." Go figure.

Cuuuute.

I'm usually not a huge fan of ecards, but these animated ecards for dog lovers are really cute. They have a unique creation process for the cards - you select which you would like to send, and then you pick the dog(s) to "star" in it. They have dozens of different breeds to pick from (I was able to find a beagle to represent David's dog, Trip, and a black lab for Ducky, my dog) and you can enter the dogs' names along with a message to the recipient. The service costs $9.95 per year, but you can create and preview your cards for free. I've already spent about half an hour playing with it... yeah, I'm a loser.

I'ma kill that boy.

Recently, I returned from a trip to go visit my loverboy, David, to find that the headphones for my computer were gone.

Sort of.

The cord was still plugged into my computer, but it had been severed and the other end (where the headphones should be) was completely missing. The nice, unassuming side of me guessed that one of the dogs had gone and bitten the cord, but... well, I would have expected to find my headphones in several hundred pieces scattered about the room, like I find every other thing near and dear to my heart that the dogs take it upon themselves to destroy. Weird.

Over the past few days, this has been brewing in my mind. So I'm talking to mom today, and I just blurt it out:

"My ass-of-a-brother ruined them. I don't know why. I don't know how. But I know he did it."

She didn't even look up from the spreadsheet she was working on. "Well, I know his headphones got broken."

He broke his headphones, took mine, and then had the balls to plug in the useless severed cord from his pair.

And, you know, I can be unassuming. Even forgiving. But this isn't the first, or second, or even third time he's done something like this.

Gonna KILL that boy!

Are you prepared for the gallery of never-before disclosed cell phone snapshots? You've been warned. Scroll down... if you dare.

	"Couch Squirrel" The Panhandle Couchdwelling Squirrel, known in the scientific world as the 'fat bastard' of the animal kingdom, is a rare sight to behold in these parts. The appearance of this rare and elusive beast is often heralded by the exclamation, "Dear God, that fucker BIT me!"
"Dashboard Jesus" Jesus, Son of God, begotten of the virgin Mary, comes to you today fresh from the sweatshops of China, ready to free you of your sins in the convenience and comfort of your own vehicle. You'll think twice about going 70 on a 65 highway when dashboard Jesus is your guide.
	"zomg teh bunnys" These two beloved cottontains (known to friends and family as Spike and Not-Spike) were released several months ago into the wilderness of Central Texas. Since then, local landowners have noted a rapid increase in the deaths and disappearances of livestock and several young children have been reported as missing. If you have any information about the whereabouts of these alleged 'bunnies,' please call your local law enforcement office.
"My Little Fix" I don't care what anyone says, My Little Ponies are dangerous, addictive motherfuckers. Crack cocaine for your inner child, if you will.

Peace = War, 1984-style

I haven't really commented on this lately, but I'm not particularily impressed with Bush's plan for the Middle East. ModernOpinion's editorial on the troop surge outlines an opinion that I strongly disagree with, which is that the best way to bring about peace is to escalate the war effort. Time and time again we've seen Bush push for more troops and more money for Iraq, and time and time again we've seen him turn down peace talks and refuse good ol' fashioned diplomacy. Troops have been redeployed, funds have been reallocated to the war, and guess what? We're still at war. The insurgency isn't faltering. This. Isn't. Working.

First off, Bush needs to start listening to the central recommendations of the bipartisan Iraq Study Group. The problem is that the committee and the President have different goals for Iraq: Bush wants to create a smashing military victory that will give him a 'graceful exit' from his altogether-crummy presidency, and the Iraq Study Group wants to soothe the violence in the Middle East and bring the conflict to an adequate close before more Americans and Iraqis lose their lives, whether or not that means a victory that will leave Bush in a favorable light.

Secondly, the President needs to recognize that engaging Syria and Iran in the negotiations surrounding Iraq is a much better idea than threatening them and ignoring attempts for further communication. Iraq's neighbors will play an important role in determining the country's future, and the last thing we need is for them to be pissed off at our occupation as we roll another twenty thousand troops in.

Sir Crab, your Suite awaits.

The other day I brought home a pair of hermit crabs (lovingly dubbed Hermie One and Hermie Two) from a neat little shop in the Rivercenter mall in San Antonio. I was not informed that they would be picky little bastards, or that mom would develop an unhealthy interest in meeting their every little need. So when she came home with a good $80 in "supplies for a better crabitat," I was a little put off.

"10-gallon aquarium? Thermometer, sand, 'bed-a-beast'? And what the hell do they need more shells for?"

"They like a selection."

"What's wrong with the shells they've got?"

"What's wrong with them? Oh, please. Look at this: their shells have oval openings. They like them to be circular. And do the insides seem anything like mother of pearl to you? They want mother of pearl. Not to mention that their shells are way too thin. They're practically naked in there, Katie. Naked!"

Hermie One briefly tried on one of the new shells before returning to his old residency. I'm told that he was impressed with the quality but feels hesitant to relinquish the ambiance of his current home. His people will call our people.