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OK, here's how retarded bees are: they kill themselves just to piss you off. Think about it. . . . If you were a bee, would you commit suicide simply to sting somebody? I mean, all it would do is give them a momentary feeling of discomfort. Meanwhile, you, the bee, would die slowly and painfully. You know, if I was a bee, I think I'd just scare people a little, like by going in their hair, or landing on their arm. Just to teach them not to go near me when I'm pollinating a flower. Hey, I need my privacy.

Now I don't mean to come off so "anti-bee" here, but it's just that I've been stung one too many times. Bees can be alright, when they're chillin' in their hives and making me a jar of honey. But when they go into your car and sting you? I'm sorry, that's not cool.


I hope everyone's having a nice spring break. I know I am. It's not like I'm bored or anything. Why would I be bored? Dang, quit accusing me of being bored. 'Cause I'm not. On an unrelated topic, I will now make a pyramid out of dashes:


In conclusion, I like pancakes.


Well, it's Easter weekend. Allow me to offer a little advice: Before you sit down, make sure nobody hid an egg in your pants. Trust me, a little "egg in the pants" gag can turn into a serious situation if you're not careful.

Hmm . . . it seems the trend these days is to change up the appearance of one's webpage. Perhaps I, too, should change the design of mine. That would be bogus.


We call it a "bathroom," but, really, how often do we use those rooms to take a bath? Like at school, I mean, where there isn't even a bath to begin with. Yet we still call it a bathroom. "Restroom" is closer, but still a bit off; you don't take a rest in them, unless you're really weird. Then you have the "WC," or "water closet," which is actually the most accurate term to describe the room in question. Once again, however, it misses the mark--is it really a closet? In the end, we're going to have to change the name, perhaps to the "pissroom."

You know how every sitcom ever made has that one episode where a character, who apparently buys a lottery ticket every week using the exact same numbers, skips buying a ticket one week? And then, without fail, those same numbers happen to come up that week, and the character is left comically distraught? Well, personally, I've never understood that intention of these episodes. It's like, what, does this mean that we should purchase lottery tickets as consistently as possible? Those episodes were always kind of lame to me.


Please, whatever you do, DO NOT click on this link. It is not something you will want to see. And why would I make a link that people shouldn't click on? Well, frankly, I don't really know. I think it's a matter of me having too much time on my hands at work.

Hey, whoever voted yes in the "Can I borrow a dollar poll?" needs to cough up. I was serious. Simply e-mail me the money as soon as you can.

And by the way, nobody should be missing Red Wings playoff action. Even if you don't like ice hockey, you can still enjoy the Bell Tire logo saying "Bell Tire" every once in a while. I mean, there's something for everyone.


I truly, truly do feel sorry for the juniors. I mean, I had to take the MEAPs last year and can recall with distaste what it felt like to answer questions about weather balloons while everyone else slept in. That said, sleeping in an extra two hours next week should be very nice.

When finals week is over, hardly any med students will be coming to the computer lab and my job will be even easiar! Boo-ya!


It could be too late. Already owls have hacked into this website, changing eKarjala around in new and unexpected ways. But don't worry--I fully intend to get them out of here somehow. Perhaps then I won't have anymore nightmares about owls scratching my eyes out.

On a lighter note, at work we have these blue tubs called "Male GU & Prostate Exam Preparation Kits" that we're checking out to med students. So people are ringing the bell and saying to me, "Hey, do you have anymore of those male rectal kits left?" I don't know what GU stands for, but frankly I don't want to.


You know, I'm getting real sick of people who are all, "Oh, well I'm too good to put a Guestbook on my website." It's like, hey, take it easy and get the damned Guestbook, alright? Nobody is too good for a Guestbook.

Anyway, last night was pretty weird and fun. I don't think my cats were down with it all, though. They were like, "Dude, we are so bustin' your ass if anyone takes our cat food." I was all, "Why would anyone eat your cat food?" Then they were all, "Hey, whatever. All we're saying is that nobody better be takin' our cat food." My cats can be lame sometimes.


The internet, the internet, the internet! Whatever happened to robots?


That poll at the top of the page is not of my doing--the owl insisted he put it it. Just take a second to vote and he might not get angry (depending on which answer you give). Trust me, that bird can get vicious.

It's April Fools today, and you know what that means: Don't do any practical jokes. I mean, this is the one day you just don't do them. It's way too obvious.

Hey, none of the hippies and almost all of the high school/college kids aren't around today! Where did they all go? . . . Hmm, don't answer that.