I'm Waiting for my Pets to Die

Not really, but I have your attention. The original title was "I'm Waiting for my Parents to Die," but I think they'd have a negative reaction to that. Then I was going to write "I'm Waiting for my Parrots to Die," but why should I limit myself to one subgroup of slave animals? I'm not like that though. I want my parrots to die from natural causes completely unrelated to my will for their death. Is that any different? Actually, I think it's more likely that my parrots are waiting for me to die. They're probably writing blogs right now. But these blogs are not as subtle as mine. You see, they're parrots; they can't handle subtlety. The big one's blog is entitled, "I'm Slowly Killing my Humans by Defecating in their Salad." The little one, on the other hand, wrote, "I'm Killing my Humans by Masturbating on the Furniture and Giving them Sexual Transmitted Diseases that Are Harmless to Parrots but Deadly to Human-Pig-Dogs." As you can see, parrots aren't very good with brevity either.

The little one actually does masturbate on the furniture. And this is another field where he's terrible at brevity. I often walk into the kitchen and see him humping a chair with one leg up in the air and his tongue sticking out. On the table are chewed up magazines, bits of food, and the larger parrot's feathers. Obviously, the little guy had a little too much stimulation, and had to relieve himself as soon as possible. Why not the kitchen chair? It's close by, and often has a nice, soft cover (conveniently put there for his pleasure, and not to prevent him from pooping on the furniture). As soon as the wet spot dries the humans will never know a thing. How could they? He only does it right in front of us. That lovebird has no shame whatsoever.

What does that say about us? My family is not really god-fearing. We don't fear that which doesn't exist. In a religious family, however, I bet you this sort of behaviour would not be tolerated. Bird humping your furniture? Swat him with a newspaper. Twelve year old son masturbating in his bedroom? Hide the Vaseline. That should solve the problem, provided that he's not one of the few privileged boys in the US who didn't get circumcised. Personally, I say swat the boy with a newspaper when he doesn't masturbate. Don't tell him why you're swatting him, just do it. He'll catch on eventually, or develop a fetish. And if you're swatting the the boy with a newspaper, you have to do something worse to the parrot. This is according to the natural order of things. Humans are more important than animals, so if you treat a human badly, you have to counteract that by treating an animal worse. That way everything evens out, and all is right with the world. I think anything short of placing mousetraps on all of the furniture is irresponsible and unmoral.

Some of you might think that I'm the kind of person who buys houseplants just to watch them wither away from lack of water. That's completely untrue. I don't even buy houseplants; they always wither away from lack of water. And despite my comment about swatting kids with newspapers for not masturbating, I think I'd be a pretty good father. I'd teach my children responsibility and ethics by making them water the plants and provide the birds with plenty of room to relieve their loins. Teaching the kids about sex is, as I hear, one of the hardest things about being a parent. But with all of the horny parrots flying around my house I think they'd get the picture by the age of three. And what would you rather have, your kids learning about sex from television or your kids learning about sex from cute, colourful animals that can sing well? Sure, they're no Barney, but they get the job done. And they usually do it without inducing nausea.

Until your kids die from STDs.

I Blame a Lot of Things on Caffeine; This is One of them

"Creativity"

Creativity is an apethetic young man;
He scoffs at what you learn
And makes you forget what you know.
His tastes change with the seasons,
But he holds equal the old and the new.
Sometimes he picks up a rock
And throws it at your head
To get your attention,
But more of then than not
He eschews the people who try to get to know him.

Those who have a more intimate relationship with Creativity
Are generally older and equally apathetic as he is.
But it is a wise, pragmatic apathy acquired
Over the years,
And they put it to good use in their daily lives.
Not Creativity.
He is opportunistic and selfish,
And he wastes his time waiting for people
To listen to his lies.

I hope you like it. One problem with writing poems about creativity is that it's really embarrassing for the author if the poem isn't creative. Good thing none of you know what I look like. Actually, I think it's more embarrassing that my audience consists entirely of people who do know what I look like. YAY CAFFEINE!

Speaking of Herpes: Something that Really Sucks

I'm supposed to be writing up my African Philosophy presentation on Communism vs Communitarianism (the second part of a three-parter on African Politics), but I had to say that somethings sucks.

What sucks?

Heads Up: Publishing Matters of the Mind. A Queen's University funded, student run collection of short stories and poems, and one image.

I don't profess to be a great writer, but I really think that if a publication is going to be this childish, it should at least be funny. I flipped to the middle of the booklet, and the first poem I read, "Undone" by Anna Maxymiw, really annoyed me:

undone.
maybe once we were raveled too tight.

now
we spew out brokenness and disorders like
compliments on bright blue eyes.

alienation.

it makes sense that
once, we were wholesome
and now
we should be able to create ourselves
back to complete
no disorders plaguing us.

to be bleak.

it is very grey here
unlike the lush tropicana full-bodied palette of my summer
it is very grey here
and in the libraries
the air rushes out of the mechanized vents
the air blocks our breath

it is very grey here
it is making me come
undone (Glozman, 11).

Words and phrases that piss me off in this poem include two instances of "undone," "raveled too tight," the entire second stanza, "alienation," most of the fourth stanza, "to be bleak," three repetitions of "it is very grey here," "mechanized vents," and the entire poem.

I might just be completely desensitized to depressing literature, but I can't really tell the point of this poem. Is university life finally getting to Maxymiw? But how is university life any more difficult than life at home? People who have a difficult time here usually had a difficult time in high school, and people who enjoy university usually enjoy life in general. Maybe she just doesn't like winter and writes a poem about it every year.

But the booklet has a few redeeming qualities. I like that there's an avenue for students to express themselves to the world--although I'd say they already have that with the internet. Natalie A Stechyson single-handedly changed my overall opinion of the booklet with her poem "The Wellington Street Outpatient:"

Old wheels groan with exhaustion;
the pedals are weary
with stiffness and pain,
their joints are streched tenderly,
patiently, by their caregiver.
Sitting atop that seat
with mannequin posture,
looking at no one,
willing his friend to carry him
one more block and back again.

He doesn't talk except when he screams,
pleading with demons, swearing,
assaulting the concrete.
The neighbors don't look from their papers
as they have grown tender for the man
in crumpled coveralls and a cap:
stray hairs like fine white wires
poking out of his neck
as he coaxes his rusted reprieve
one more block and back again.

The sun whispers on his bony shoulders;
he passes the parade of briefcases
and sandwiches in ziploc bags,
the moan of the wheels overpowering
the clicking of corporate shoes.
No one dares break the trance,
the timid calm in those weathered eyes,
so no one says hello
as he determinedly pedals
just one more block and back again (Glozman, 8).

You see, poetic devices such as free verse and metaphor and such aren't enough to create a good poem. A poem's goodness is in its content; how that poem is delivered is only secondary to what the poem says. Too often we're stuck with the same old themes of depression, despair, heartache, etc. that lend nothing to the poem except a tired sort of familiarity. This familiarity might be appealing to people who aren't used to seeing it in writing--teenagers, more often than not--but for everyone else a thought-provoking poem is more welcome than a familiar one. It is not enough to be have an unconventional style to be thought-provoking. WHO IS THE WELLINGTON STREET OUTPATIENT?!?!?

But what do I know? I'm only almost 21. WOO! This post almost turned into a serious critique of Canadian literature. WOO!

Take care and nobi,

Andrew

P.S. Correction: there are more images. I think there is a total of two. One is KINDA a poem, so I'll stick with one out of spite.

Cited Sources

Glozman, Jenny and Laura Paret, eds. Heads Up: Publising Matters of the Mind. Anna Maxymiw.
"Undone." Natalie A. Stecyson. "The Wellington Street Outpatient." Kingston: P&CC, 2007. 8, 11.

That should cover my ass. I can't bother to see if that's the correct form of citation.

My Cat's Herpes were a Reaction to Aus' Dog's Existence

Anagea is an antilie (antee lee? NEW WORD!). But I wasn't lying about losing something or another. I lost it, and it's gone.

On a happier note, I think that Katherine may or may not consider possibly joining this blogging experiment. I say experiment because I have absolutely no faith in any of us keeping a blog for longer than it takes to lose interest. In fact, this is probably the last post you will ever see for a long time, so I had better make this a good'n.

Ahem.

Once upon a time there was a delightful girl named Are. Are had brown hair and brown eyes, and was the sort of girl who could blend into any rural village in the north-eastern Indian subcontinent. Her handwriting was very neat, and she took pride in this fact. However, her writing hand was in a pitiful state, and she took hours to do what average Neisians (North-eastern Indian subcontinent-ians) could do in minutes. Try as she might, after a few hours her handwriting would gradually grow more and more illegible, until finally she looked as if she was writing in Chinese (this is not to say that Chinese is a sloppy looking language. It's just that if you don't intend to write in Chinese, and yet everything you write is perfectly legible Chinese, then you have a problem on your hands, or with your hands).

Finally succumbing to the pressures of her North American University final examinations, Are decided that she would seek some help. She first went to the local witch doctor, Rodentia. Rodentia was young and fickle, with white hair and one twitching eye. She took one look at Are and diagnosed herpes. Are protested, claiming that she didn't even have the symptoms of herpes. This was a likely lie, thought Rodentia, and Are would pay for it. Convinced that Are had herpes, and that Are should be punished, Rodentia prescribed sugar pills to Are. That way Are would think her herpes symptoms were vanishing, when really they were getting worse.

But Are didn't have herpes, and knew she didn't have herpes, and refused to take the pills because she knew she didn't have herpes. She threw the prescription in the nearest rubbish bin, which angered Rodentia. The witch doctor flew into a blind rage and began hissing and spitting; she bared her teeth and her hair stood on end. But Rodentia's cat-like fury wasn't very frightening, and she ran away as soon as Are took a step towards the door.

Are proceeded to the nearest guru. The guru, Austoga, knowing the dangers of medical malpractice, took the time to look at Are's hand before diagnosing a condition. His diagnosis was possible if not plausible: she broke her hand. What more, she must have broken it in a fight. To be more specific, she broke it in a bar fight against a one-eyed hooker on sleep medication. The only cure, Austoga said, solemnly, was to rub her hand in the massive forest of thick, black, curly hair on his chest. This, he said, would purify her hand from any traces hookeritus, a dangerous condition that causes hands to break. Austoga tore his shirt open violently and thrust out his sweaty chest for Are's hand. There was so much hair that Are couldn't see his nipples or bellybutton. Are was disgusted at the sight of so much hair, and fled for her life.

Are was depressed. Her hand hurt, and she had run out of people to see. It began to rain, and soon the streets were flooded with the murky runoff from the North American University's food recycling/bathroom facilities. All around Are were the usual signs of a sad movie. There even was a dead syphilitic badger on the sidewalk--very sad. But all was not lost, for in her efforts to avoid the rain and the dead syphilitic badger Are went inside the nearest building.

Are found herself in a dusty, old, badly lit office building outside the door of Sam Mok, Hero for Hire. That's just what Are needed! A hero for hire! But then she saw the yellow, foggy glass and the pealing stickers and began to have second thoughts. What could a hero for hire do for her hand? Sensing another disappointment in the quest to repair the pitiful state of her hand, Are slowly turned away and headed for the exit. But suddenly Sam's door burst open, and a magnificent light flooded the hallway, blinding Are with its shear unrelenting brightness. Are covered her eyes and cowered to the ground, not knowing what was going to happen. Sam apologized and turned the light off. He kept forgetting that not everyone was used to the eccentricities of a super hero, since most were too expensive to hire. His flashy entrance would have to wait.

Sam was no ordinary super hero, however. He was an econ super hero, and he calculated his prices for optimum affordability and market demand, adjusting for inflation every two hours, thirty-one minutes, and fifty-eight point nine seconds, using a model that took into account (a) the number of girls with hurt hands there are; (b) the number of cat-like witch doctors and hairy gurus there are; (c) how often it rained; and (d) how many badgers die of syphilis on any given day. He ate, drank, breathed and dreamed capitalism. His very sweat reeked of his vast economic prowess. He was capitalism incarnate.

Are swooned in the radiant force of Sam's capitalist aura. Her very composition began to melt, and she was puddy in his hands. "Sign here," he said to her, extending a clipboard and a pen. Are looked confused, but Sam's presence gave her strength, and she found that she could write well again. Not only that, but she gave the most beautiful signature she had ever seen. Every elegant loop, every exquisite letter flowed from her hand as if it was the natural essence of her being. She felt as if the paper was her own baby child, and she was feeding it the wholesome milk of her bosom, that was also the pen in her hand. And in that milk were the live-giving nutrients of Neo-Keynsianism. She wrote the last letter, conscious of every moment it took in its formation--the nearer the was to the end the closer she was to reaching an orgasmic climax that can only be reached through the awesome sexual attraction for a pure capitalist. Sam pulled away the clipboard. "Thank you," he said, "That is all." He pulled himself inside his office, smiling with the knowledge that he had done his job with the greatest possible efficiency imaginable. The form Are had signed was just a previously prepared bill.

Are left with a feeling of vigor in her hand. She could write again! She went outside and the sun was shining and birds were chirping and nearby midgets began to sprout wings and fly. But around the corner came Austoga and Rodentia. They were arguing about the cause of Are's hand problems. Austoga said that Rodentia was the one-eyed prostitute prone to fighting in bars, and Rodentia spat and hissed at Austoga. Translated, the spitting and hissing meant that Rodentia thought Austoga's hair was full of herpes-carrying fleas. Are, realizing her new found strength, walked up to Austoga and Rodentia and admitted to them that they were both right. The shear contradiction of this statement forced Rodentia to spasm and rub herpes-infected her eye in Austoga's thick mat of abdominal hair. She rubbed so hard that Austoga's hair began to fall off, revealing his nipples to the sun for the first time in years. Rodentia began to purr, and Austoga began to moan. They were in love.

The moral of this story is that you can't just sprout herpes in your eye if you don't like someone (stupid rodent-cat). YAY CAPITALISM!

The end.

I am supposed to be reading up on my African Politics right now, but I want to install an SSL library for GAIM on my Linux Absolute machine. This means what to you? Absolutely nothing!

Take care and nobi,

Andrew

Lies

Just wanted to let everyone know that Andrew was lying when he said at the end of his last post that there wasn't anything before that except for bar. This is because there was a floaty list of archives or something. It took two years for that to work on my laptop, and it was cool because at 2am some summer a few years ago it scared the shit out of me and I IMd Andrew, who said it had always been there. I think that's a lie too.

I'd also like to say that he has lost some email he claims he sent us a while ago. Despite the fact I remember getting it, I think that's a lie as well.

Yeah, so I'm supposed to write here huh? Well I just realised I have class pretty soon. I suppose I can write every so often, when I feel inclined to do so.

Don't worry, you'll be hearing from me if anything interesting (read - to do with music or science) comes about in the news. Or if I make the news after I launch myself on stage after one of my heroes. Either one.

~musicalsparks aka The Famous Anagea

PS- If you don't appreciate my humour... well...

Archive

Dear Randomhatians (ran dumb ha shi ans),

In order to clear up the front page a bit, I'm gonna post the archive hear. So, here:

|26 March 2007| RandomHat.Com has a blog! It is called A Random Rant! WOO! I'll probably end up using it exclusively for news and whatnot, but don't worry; you'll still find the front page useful. Did I say useful? Well, in any case, there the front page will stil exist and have things on it. What these things are, I don't know. We might call them images, or text, or links. Whatever. Anagea better write a lot! You too, Katherine!

|16 February 2007| Shirt orders are in! You can expect them in two weeks.

|10 February 2007| Gandhi Shirts for sale, again! Pre-order now, 'cause ordering ends March 15.

|11 December 2006| Rumana wrote this in a fit of divine inspiration.

|07 December 2006| In an letter to my friends:

Yalo guys,

Ua ua, I should probably show this to you guys before you accidentally stumple [sic] a little ambitious with my three comics a week plan. Sorry, but I have to reduce it to two comics a week, since my workload is, well, loaded. Or, I can spend the next few weeks drawing a cache of comics so that I don't have to worry about updating so much. Since no one is going to read this, I can do what I want. In my defense, I HAVE drawn the latest comics, I just haven't put them up yet.

|26 September 2006| Remember me? I'm back! Actually, I haven't been gone at all. I've been sketching and thinking and sketching some more. I've finally come up with a drawing style that I'm (fairly) comfortable with, and a storyline that I like. So, without further ado, I present CFR Pirate Hunters!

Oh, and I haven't forgotten A Random Hat. I'm going to be doing a new drawing style with that as well (AKA, by hand). It will update wednesdays.

Anyway, I hope you like what I have in plan. If you don't....

|25 June 2006| Sorry folks, the new comic was meant to have gone up on the 23rd, but due to something or another, it didn't go up. And due to a general lack of order(s), I am not selling Gandhi shirts any longer. If you want a shirt, find 23 friends who also want a shirt, and then we'll have a deal.

|22 June 2006| New comic! My god, I hate essays.

|21 June 2006| New comic! Essays still suck.

|15 June 2006| New comic! I hate essays.

|14 June 2006| New comic! Dammit!

|13 June 2006| New comic! Fine, don't buy a shirt.

|12 June 2006| New comic! Won't someone please buy a shirt?

|11 June 2006| New comic! Buy a shirt!

|10 June 2006| New comic!

Anagea and I are now starting a band. Because we have absolutely no music talent whatsoever, we decided that we would both be producers for the band. In fact, the entire band is made up of producers. This is going to be our first album. All we need now are a bunch of musicians who want to be told what to do!

|08 June 2006| New comic under way. Poem!

|05 June 2006| New comic!

|04 June 2006| New comic!

|03 June 2006| I was reading some late-night Questionable Content (it's one of my favourite webcomics), and I felt guilty for not keeping my promise with my comics. To make it up to you, here are three (link will take you to the first of the three, and the normal link will take you to the last). Actually, two of these are ones I did a long time ago, but never got around to posting. Heh.

Anyway, I hope you don't like indie rock. It's not that bad I guess. At least indie rocker women are hot. But then, nothing's hotter than a woman who likes metal. I'm automatically assuming that all of my readers hate rap and country, even though I know some of them don't.

I was going to use the word "chick" isntead of woman, but then I remembered that some women take offense to that. Actually, I was going to use girl instead of chick, but after looking up the meaning of both, I found that it's also offensive, apparently. How a word for "young female human" can be offensive, I don't know. I guess, like most things in the world, my male predecessors ruined it long before I was born. That's it, I demand that we have a ancestorcide! We'll round up all of the dead people in the world, revive them, then kill them again!

I shouldn't be so worried about my word usage. The only people who will ever read this are my parents and Anagea. My parents will be on here to buy some pity shirts for me, and Anagea will still be cackling at something I said earlier. I must be writing for those robots that scan websites for marketing purposes. Hi Mom. Hi Dad. Hi Anagea. Hi marketing robots.

If you're interested, I just explained the concept behind my new comics in the New Random Hat archive.

|29 May 2006| Anagea (Meaghan) and I are starting a company together. This company is called The Coffee-Stained Shirt and Revoluzzer Record Company. Originially it was The Coffee-Stained Shirt and Revoluzzer Vinyl Company, but I wanted to get that r-repetition in there. Our dream is to one day own a shop together somewhere in England. Her side will sell Vinyls and be called Coffee-Stained Shirts. My side will sell coffee and shirts, and be called Revoluzzer Records. I don't know how serious either of us are about this whole thing. We're going to try to sell stuff over Random Hat first, just to see how things work out. I might just get a MySpace account to promote the site. (Revoluzzer sounds like reh-voh-lute-zair). Here's ourLogo.

|23 May 2006| Here's a different version of my White Rose shirt idea.

|20 May 2006| I got pissed off again the other day. I was watching "Soliders in the Army of God," which is a documentary about abortion doctor killers. Killing always pisses me off, but what really got my blood boiling was how the Army of God affiliated themselves with the White Rose. For those of you who don't know, the White Rose was a group of five university students and a professor in Munich during World War II. Together they produced pamphlets calling for non-violent resistance against the Nazis, and distributed these pamphlets all over Germany. Eventually they were arrested and executed (with a guillotine), and their friends and family were either killed or put into prison. The Army of God is a loose-knit group of terrorists, so you can understand how I felt when I learned that they likened themselves to the White Rose. I got so pissed off that I made this shirt. I'm sure that within a few hours of this post I'll be targeted by these Neo Nazi zealot fuckheads. If you want to see what I'm talking about, go here. This site really scares me, actually.

|09 April 2006| Gandhi Shirts are up! If you don't remember what Gandhi shirts are, go away. Actually, go here.

Who wants to join a mass protest? I suggest doing it next year right before homecoming. For those of you who don't know, Queen's Homecoming caused quite a stir last year; and its repercussions are unfair to those of us who weren't involved (including myself and most of the partygoers). No, Dad, I didn't go to the party. I was sitting on my roof drinking tea with a guest at the time. Anyway... I think that a peaceful protest ending with a more orderly homecoming party will send a good message to the rest of the world. Email me if you agree or disagree or have no opinion because you need decisions to be made for you and have no ability to choose for yourself. I bet I'll only get one god damn email. It will be from Stasia: "You spelled antidisestablishmenttarianism wrong." The irony will be that I only spelled it wrong in the first place to make it so that she can say I spelled something wrong, but really she will point out some other word that I misspelled or some grammatical error that I neglected to correct so that she can have something to send me besides the obvious misspelling of antidisestablishmentarianism, which she doesn't really need to send me an email about because I've already proved that I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism twice, and because I pointed that out as well, the only irony will be if she emails me to point out something wrong at all, because it is no longer expected that she will since I've already pointed out that I know about my mistakes. "Your use of irony is wrong."

|04 April 2006| Sorry about the delay. Two new comics are up. Also, check out the new poems.

|27 March 2006| *Yawn* New comic. I don't really have much to say. It's 12:04 AM and I have German homework to finish. I'm studying "das Passiv." Die Arbeit wird gemacht. Der Mann wird von der Arbeit weh getan. Die Arbeit wird von dem Mann gebrannt, weil der Mann von der Arbeit weh getan wird. Ein Vogel ist exputiert worden. I will give you a prize if you can tell me what the last one means.

|24 March 2006| I killed the link in the last post. It's kinda pointless, seeing that I put the same link to the left. Guess which one it is. Go on, guess.

Anyway... I guess I should explain the idea behind the new strip. The first volume is called Random Hat Evolution. It's going to show the formation of the Random Hat universe and all of its characters, including mine from TOSOP and the others from Holy Stumpdom. The next volume will be called Random Hat Mythology. It will show the formation of Hatland and reveal the stories behind the resident characters.

New strips will be posted Mondays and Fridays. I've already drawn enough to bring us into April.

|20 March 2006| Here's the first comic, as promised.

|13 March 2006| Dear friends and loyal members of the Random Hat family,

First, I would like to apologize for the lack of comics, poems, and apologies for the past month. It has been a long month, and I'm lazy.

Second, I would like to thank everyone who bought a shirt. I'll be doing another round soon, and I might even set up an online catalogue through Pay Pal.

Lastly, I am discontinuing Holy Stumpdom and The Other Side of Princess. Shh. Hush. Don’t cry. Let me finish. I am discontinuing these two comics, but their spirits will live on in A Random Hat. This is because in addition to discontinuing HS and TOSOP I will be redrawing the Random Hat characters. In doing this I will incorporate characters from all three comics. I’m sure that you will like the effect, so long as you give me a few weeks to learn how to draw without using a computer.

I thank you for your patience and understanding.

Nobi,

Andrew Fassett

|17 February 2006| Two poems.

|06 February 2006| I fleshed out this poem a bit. I think I might have said that in my commentary as well. I can't remember those things.

|05 February 2006| OMG I HAVE THE BEST IDEA FOR SHIRTS!

|05 February 2006| Sex with Pigs is a poem. So is this.

|25 January 2006| Friends, my therapist said to let you know that I do indeed like you. I'm not going to do this, because my therapist also happens to be the lovebird dancing and singing in my head. Instead, I'm going to do something I said I would not do. Please take a look at this Gandhi PDF file and tell me if it is okay looking. The reason I am having you do this is because you suck... in the production process the picture has to be changed in order for the computers to read it. I personally like this picture more.

|24 January 2006| I'm going to New Zealand, Canada (This is a new comic).

|23 January 2006| Why do we live in a world in which you aren't taken seriously unless you say something that is negative in some way?

|22 January 2006| This poem is about the quest for houses at Queen's University.

|20 January 2006| All kidding aside.

|19 January 2006| I'm hoping that this is the last time I have to draw Gandhi. Tell me if I need to make any changes.

|18 January 2006| New Tosop Comic.

|16 January 2006| Can any tell me more about copyright laws?

|15 January 2006| This is what happens when you let me paint.

|12 January 2006| Announcement: Because I am getting a large demand for my Gandhi Shirts, I am going to make a deal with Oil Thigh designs. Eventually I will have a shopping cart with different shirts and maybe some cheese. Okay, no cheese. Take the beaten path. AA EE II OO UU and sometimes WHYY.

|10 January 2006| My lovebird is insane.

|09 January 2006| Everyone is to celebrate New Year's instead of Christmas, and Lubercalia instead of St. Valentine's Day. Thank you.

|03 Jan 2006| Matt sent me this. Happy new day!

|29 December 2005| This should look familiar.This is for my mom.

|29 December 2005|A little clean up is good now and then. Here is my new website. I'll put the link at the bottom under "news sites."

|28 December 2005| I painted this, because I am insane.

|22 December 2005| Meaghan is insane.

|21 December 2005| This is what I want for the Mass of Christ (only some people will understand).

|21 December 2005| Christina drew an awesome Tosop Comic for me!

|21 December 2005| Thinking of buying a Che Guevara Shirt?

|21 December 2005| Just, you know, promoting my mother's art.

|20 December 2005| The final product.

|18 December 2005| Are you a Tool? How about a Spas? Is your name Aus? Then read this.

|15 December 2005| I need help.

|08 December 2005| I did NOT take anything down....

|05 December 2005| Apparently I have to ASK people to send me stuff. Meaghan did the new Tosop Comic. Ovaries are funny. Emeli is hard at work... well WAS hard at work on a RHC (Random Hat Comic). Now I just need someone to do a HSC (Holy Stumpdom Comic). An HSC? Eh? Y! Aye. Oh... You! And sometimes why.

|05 December 2005| There will be no new comics until my exams end. Feel free to email me something. Spam me, and you will feel my wrath. Actually, your balls or ovaries will feel my foot or fist.

|03 December 2005| Do you consider yourself a Humanitarian?

|02 December 2005| So I randomly drove home a day early yesterday. I'll be in Virginia until the 10th. Here's a graph of my trip. And, for those of you who know what day it is today (it's not Friday), here's the latest Random Hat Comic.

|27 November 2005| Sorry folks, there's another placeholder this week for Holy Stumpdom. Take a look at Emeli's Creepy Barbie.

|23 November 2005| More Emeli poems.

|21 November 2005| "It's funny because it's funny." -Emeli, said of today's comic. "My fingers smell like Doritos."

|21 November 2005| Please read this.

|21 November 2005| Two New Toso Princess Comics!

|18 November 2005| Random Hat Comic!

|17 November 2005| So is this one.

|17 November 2005| New poem. This one is all mine.

|16 November 2005| We all love The Elf King. I hope you love German.

|16 November 2005| Only slightly lewd.

|14 November 2005| New Toso Princess Comic

|13 November 2005| The seemingly new feature in this poem is actually in all of my (Alec Satyr's) poems.

Something else by Emeli. She's on a roll!

|10 November 2005| Upon first reading it I didn't like Emeli's poem, but after reading is several times over I've come to the conclusion that it really does work quite well (AKA I like it).

|09 November 2005| We all love The Adventures of Pumpkin, and Poop?

|07 November 2005| New Toso Princess Comic

|05 November 2005| While on Christina's computer I noticed that Internet Explorer made the link bars to the left spread apart about a centimeter. I've fixed this for the most part. Instead of having large spaces between the links in IE and no spaces in Firefox (which is MUCH better than IE), I opted to have tiny spaces between the links in both browsers.

|05 November 2005| Because I want to continue making comics, but don't want to fall behind in classes, I've devised a cunning schedule. I will run "Toso Princess" on Mondays, "Holy Stumpdom" on Wednesdays, and "A Random Hat" on fridays. That gives me the entire weekend to do all three.

|05 November 2005| New Stump Comic

|05 November 2005| I have another comic for Toso Princess, but I'm going to direct you to the main page instead. I think you can find it from there.

|04 November 2005| Here is another one for Toso Princess. Enjoy.

|04 November 2005| I swear guys; I'm not becoming an emo. I don't do that stuff. Here's another poem.

|03 November 2005| Here is An Afterthought of Sorts.

|02 November 2005| A poem, The Truce, by Jess. Also, a claymation site, by Alex. Not Alec.

|01 November 2005| A poem, The Senses.

|30 October 2005| "The lines around the dates frigthen me." -Meaghan

|30 October 2005| Notice anything different?

<27> New comic! WOO!

<27> So I was thinking about stuff, and I get this crazy idea (big suprise). I thought, "Hmmm... fair enough, eh?" Then I thought, "Fair enough could be FE..." THEN I thought, "Fe is iron on the periodic table of elements." So from now on I'm going to be saying "iron" whenever I would normally say "yes."

<25> Seriously, today is the day for comiceers. Here's another one by Matt.

<25> Here is a new comic called The Other Side of Princess. There are a lot of run-on Queen's jokes in it. Well... two. Enjoy!

<25> Okay, it's not one of my most creative comics; I know it has a lot of recycled jokes, but you're insane if you don't laugh your ass off at that rat. I'm talking about the dangerous to society type of insane, not the kind that Meaghan and I embody. We're only a danger to ourselves.

<24> DOO DOO DOOM Finally! Some one had the balls to submit something to me.

<21> NEW COMIC! Ever wondered about the future?

<05> Yeah, yeah, it's been a long time. This should satisfy you.

<18> This happened to me the other day actually.

<13> In a staring contest between an Australian and a Canadain, who do you think would win?

<11> All you need to know about expution.

<08> La Comica is a word.. phrase.

There was nothing before this. Except for bar.

You can still visit http://www.randomhat.com/archives.htm, if you feel so inclined.

Nobi,

Andrew

TEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!