| The Stench of Failure and Meat |
[Oct. 19th, 2006|02:29 pm] |
The start of my day consisted of a field trip to a sausage manufacturing factory. Everything was just fine and dandy. Probably except for the smell of sausage has some how seeped into my clothes. I feel like i'm some type of random sausage. I smell like all kinds.
Not pleasant.
But on the brighter side. I did get a free lunch. Which consister of -_- different types of sauages and bread...
I am certain that i'm off of eating sausages for awhile. I think I may have consume as many as a week's worth of sausages. Some of my classmates brought them home as well.
Right after that glorious field trip of grinding, mixing, extruding the meat mixture into casings I was faced with the invetiable.
The midterm exams. A lab component and a lecture component.
I quickly flew by each question like there was no tomorrow.
It was till a certain question that stumped me. "was it suppose to be a pelagic fish? of demersal? (for those that do not hold god like intelliect of bio. pelagic fish are normally out in the ocean by the surface while demeral fish like to stay on the bottom."
I guessed it must be demersal.
As I packed my bag and went to my locker. I realized that I answered it wrong. It was either because it was the wrong defintion.
*ahhh frick. frick.... there goes 1 mark... that could possibly make or break my marks. and I know the answer to it too.
next time i'm staying for the whole 2 freaking hours. just to make sure I don't do that kind of careless mistake.
Funny because I did read it over incase of any stupid errors.
But enough of my rant. |
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| Origins of Purple Yams |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|05:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | peaceful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Godly humming- computer | ] | Long before the second Bush was inaugurated into the White House, long before tamagochi's ver.1 were out...
There were the simpler days. When hop scotch would rule over boy-bands and bratz. And a tattered soccer ball meant more than just a kicking buddy for a 10 year old.
Those were the days of my prime.
The days when my purple yams would thrive in the beating sun waves and thirst on the clean mountain water.
....
....
Testing. =)
First entry. |
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