Sunday, September 27, 2009
Squids semper ubi sub ubi ubique.
After a very long, very uncomfortable and very dark ride on a Greyhound bus, I have arrived at college. I was quite put-out with my human, as she deigned to transport me inside of a duffel bag, but she permitted me my freedom as soon as we arrived in the room, and after a few exhilerating bed bounces I was restored to my normal good humor. I say "exhilerating," because I quickly discovered that one is able to bounce off of the distressingly high bed, across the room, and onto the even more bouncy futon, which springs the joyful bouncer right back onto the bed. I am absolutely thrilled with this new method of healthful exercise. Tomorrow I shall be squidding down to the library and immersing myself in some scholarly journals for a bit of light reading.
The human is growling at me that she "needs the computer to work on this stupid fys paper," so I believe I shall have to abort this entry in an untimely manner. However, expect more updates very soon on how Drake adjusts to having a squid on campus. They have no idea what has hit them.
Cheers,
Squidmore
The human is growling at me that she "needs the computer to work on this stupid fys paper," so I believe I shall have to abort this entry in an untimely manner. However, expect more updates very soon on how Drake adjusts to having a squid on campus. They have no idea what has hit them.
Cheers,
Squidmore
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Ars longa, Squid brevis
I have been immortalized! A human who lives near to mine drew this thrilling picture of me engaging in a squid adventure on the high seas. It is a stunning work of art, and not merely because I am the focal point! I do wish my human would draw pictures of me occasionally.Thank you, future neighbor human! I shall be placing this in a prominent place for me to sit and admire during my leisure hours. And now, the world can also gaze upon my handsome portrait.
Cheers,
Squidmore
Capillamentum Squid? Haudquaquam conieci esse...
The human requested that I extoll the virtues of possessing short hair. She went to have hers cut today, and is apparently pleased with the results. However, myself having no hair to speak of, I believe I would prefer to examine the benefits of being a hairless creature:
1) There is no need for periodic hair cuts. Especially since they cost $2.00 more in Des Moines than in Wheaton, which seems counterintuitive.
2) There is no need for hairbrushes, combs, razors, etc.
3) There is no need for shampoo, conditioner, gel, mousse, souffle, or any other products that sound as though they belong on a dessert table.
4) There is no such thing as a "bad hair day."
5) Hair dryers and straighteners become a moot point.
6) There is no disgusting coughing up of hairballs, a feline behavior which I have unfortunately been witness to on numerous occasions. I squidded through one once... hairball is a very unpleasant substance to clean off one's normally well-groomed tentacles.
7) Beards and mustaches are not possible.
8) By the same token, mullets are also not possible.
9) Nor is stubble.
10) Valuable time is saved each day by a wonderful combination of all of the above.
I do pity you poor humans, covered in the fuzzy stuff. Unfortunately, not everyone is able to achieve the sleek, aerodynamic look that squids are famous for. Wondrous though my human's short hair may be, it is woefully inadequate when compared to the hairless life.
Cheers,
Squidmore
1) There is no need for periodic hair cuts. Especially since they cost $2.00 more in Des Moines than in Wheaton, which seems counterintuitive.
2) There is no need for hairbrushes, combs, razors, etc.
3) There is no need for shampoo, conditioner, gel, mousse, souffle, or any other products that sound as though they belong on a dessert table.
4) There is no such thing as a "bad hair day."
5) Hair dryers and straighteners become a moot point.
6) There is no disgusting coughing up of hairballs, a feline behavior which I have unfortunately been witness to on numerous occasions. I squidded through one once... hairball is a very unpleasant substance to clean off one's normally well-groomed tentacles.
7) Beards and mustaches are not possible.
8) By the same token, mullets are also not possible.
9) Nor is stubble.
10) Valuable time is saved each day by a wonderful combination of all of the above.
I do pity you poor humans, covered in the fuzzy stuff. Unfortunately, not everyone is able to achieve the sleek, aerodynamic look that squids are famous for. Wondrous though my human's short hair may be, it is woefully inadequate when compared to the hairless life.
Cheers,
Squidmore
Monday, September 21, 2009
Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis quod Squid
My human provided me with some intriguing fodder for today's discourse, involving a post mortem annoyance that has crept unwelcomed into her dorm room. It appears that she is dwelling with a ghost. Now, before you dismiss this as a foolishly overactive imagination, brought on by an excessive love of Ghost Hunters, do appreciate two key facts: 1) whatever else she may by, my human is an exceedingly rational creature and nearly as intelligent as myself, so I hold her opinions in fairly high regard, and 2) a year or two back, Herriott Hall was investigated by a branch of the TAPS team right here in Iowa, and they found evidence of the paranormal. As for the rest, make of it what you will!
A few nights ago, at around 1am, the human was lying in her bed and falling asleep. She was alone in the room, the hallway was completely silent, and she believes that the two dorm rooms flanking hers were devoid of occupants. In any case, the two rooms are both female-inhabited. Her window was securely shut, all sound-producing objects (computers, phones, what have you) were turned off, and again, she was ALONE in the room. And yet somehow, the very distinct sound of a man coughing came from across the room, near her roomate's desk area. Naturally, she became very worried and jumped out of bed to turn the light on, but of course, there was no man anywhere (she looked in the hallway as well--no one). As I said, this human is not one to hallucinate or hear phantom noises...and there was no conceivable way this cough could have come from inside the room, and yet it did. A ghost? That is for you to judge, readers.
Last night, the human and her roomate slept peacefully in their beds, until around 5:30 in the morning. My human tells me that she was awakened by the sound of voices, which she initially thought was part of whatever dream she had been having. As she listened and noticed the moving light, she realized that it was the TV... the TV that had apparently turned on all by itself. Her roomate got up to turn it off after a minute or so, and the incident did not occur again. Still, TVs do not normally engage in such actions... did the ghost of room 413 strike again?
This series of unnatural events has greatly piqued my curiousity, and I am quite excited to move into a possibly haunted room in less than a week. I shall keep a keen eye out for other eery phenomena to report, so that together, readers, we may build up a body of evidence to prove once and for all whether or not Herriott is a haunted hall!
Cheers (and ghostly wails),
Squidmore
A few nights ago, at around 1am, the human was lying in her bed and falling asleep. She was alone in the room, the hallway was completely silent, and she believes that the two dorm rooms flanking hers were devoid of occupants. In any case, the two rooms are both female-inhabited. Her window was securely shut, all sound-producing objects (computers, phones, what have you) were turned off, and again, she was ALONE in the room. And yet somehow, the very distinct sound of a man coughing came from across the room, near her roomate's desk area. Naturally, she became very worried and jumped out of bed to turn the light on, but of course, there was no man anywhere (she looked in the hallway as well--no one). As I said, this human is not one to hallucinate or hear phantom noises...and there was no conceivable way this cough could have come from inside the room, and yet it did. A ghost? That is for you to judge, readers.
Last night, the human and her roomate slept peacefully in their beds, until around 5:30 in the morning. My human tells me that she was awakened by the sound of voices, which she initially thought was part of whatever dream she had been having. As she listened and noticed the moving light, she realized that it was the TV... the TV that had apparently turned on all by itself. Her roomate got up to turn it off after a minute or so, and the incident did not occur again. Still, TVs do not normally engage in such actions... did the ghost of room 413 strike again?
This series of unnatural events has greatly piqued my curiousity, and I am quite excited to move into a possibly haunted room in less than a week. I shall keep a keen eye out for other eery phenomena to report, so that together, readers, we may build up a body of evidence to prove once and for all whether or not Herriott is a haunted hall!
Cheers (and ghostly wails),
Squidmore
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Non ut edam vivo, sed vivam edo ut a Squid
I have become increasingly concerned about the quality/amount of food I shall be consuming at college. My human tells me horror stories about such things as "Hubbell Dining Hall," "the freshman 15," and "Spike's." Seeing as I weigh myself in ounces, adding 15 pounds to my delicate from would probably be akin to a flea swelling to the size of the planet Mars. Hyperbole though that may be, I truthfully have no desire whatsoever to become a Giant Squid. Apparently, when one lives on one's own and is left to one's own devices, one can be easily tempted into purchasing far more unhealthy edibles than is necessary. The human complains about this quite frequently. She does, however, mention the fact that one is required to do much more walking when at college, so I am hopeful that if I simply add an extra half-hour or so of bed bouncing to my regular schedule, my healthy constitution shall prevail. Not having to escape from cats at all hours of the day and night will surely put me at a disadvantage, but perhaps there is yet a greater horror lurking in the halls of Herriott for me to flee, thus improving my sprints and endurance.
I was quite pleased to hear that my penpal letter was well-recieved in California. I am also glad that the included pictures of me leaping to and fro on the bed provided some amusement for both Squidly and his human--I had a difficult time taking the pictures, as I was portraying myself mid-bounce and had no one to snap the shots for me. It is quite an enriching experience, having a penpal, and I do encourage everyone to locate one for themselves. I was lucky in having obtained a ready-made friend, as we are both plush squids, but a penpal can really be any sort of creature you like, as long as it is capable of writing back to you. I do not suggest, for instance, attempting to befriend a log or a piece of concrete, as these might prove unsuccessful.
Although I do not delude myself into believing that this blog has a very large audience, those of you who do read it may be asking yourselves "Does he ever have a point? Is there some larger conclusion he will eventually reach, or is this just the ramblings of a fleece squid?" I have the decisive answer to your questions. Naturally, I come to my own conclusions about things, but you are more than welcome to see whatever you wish to in these posts. As for me having a "point," I feel this should have already become clear: I am a squid. What other "point" could one possibly desire? Really, I was beginning to think you humans had some sense.
I feel that a pre-dinner nap is called for. I take my leave...
Cheers,
Squidmore
I was quite pleased to hear that my penpal letter was well-recieved in California. I am also glad that the included pictures of me leaping to and fro on the bed provided some amusement for both Squidly and his human--I had a difficult time taking the pictures, as I was portraying myself mid-bounce and had no one to snap the shots for me. It is quite an enriching experience, having a penpal, and I do encourage everyone to locate one for themselves. I was lucky in having obtained a ready-made friend, as we are both plush squids, but a penpal can really be any sort of creature you like, as long as it is capable of writing back to you. I do not suggest, for instance, attempting to befriend a log or a piece of concrete, as these might prove unsuccessful.
Although I do not delude myself into believing that this blog has a very large audience, those of you who do read it may be asking yourselves "Does he ever have a point? Is there some larger conclusion he will eventually reach, or is this just the ramblings of a fleece squid?" I have the decisive answer to your questions. Naturally, I come to my own conclusions about things, but you are more than welcome to see whatever you wish to in these posts. As for me having a "point," I feel this should have already become clear: I am a squid. What other "point" could one possibly desire? Really, I was beginning to think you humans had some sense.
I feel that a pre-dinner nap is called for. I take my leave...
Cheers,
Squidmore
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ars et Squid gratia artis
It is a thankless task, having Cec as my human. She has a complaint that she wishes me to express for her, and although I can think of a multitude of activities I would rather be engaged in, I am a kind-natured and generous squid and will comply. She tells me that while there are many annoyances in the world (an observation with which I must agree... just the other day I was attempting to extricate myself from the ceiling fan, as I had bounced a wee bit off my trajectory, when one of the feline nuisances happened upon my plight and began to bat at my exposed tentacles. It was awarded a sharp smack for its efforts.), the one that happens to be bothering her today is the phenomenon known as "art teachers." Not all of them, she assures me, but the ones who insist upon a set of restrictive guidelines to which a project must adhere else valuable points be docked from the final product. Being the knowledge-seeker that I am, I posed a query as to why this is such a negative thing--surely a set of rules can help with planning and execution. She let out a sort of squawking noise and proceeded to go on a long and tedious rant, which I have not the patience nor cruel streak towards my readers to relay in full. I gathered, however, that there is already enough restriction imposed with the amount of material permitted and the methods the class is allowed to use, without also putting in strictly artistic guidelines that force the piece to go in a certain direction. And yet, the professor seems to have done so. My human apparently must now redesign a project that she was very fond of and eager to create, simply because the professor was not enamored of the idea. I must say, that does seem a bit counter-productive to the "artistic process" as I understand it. Still, life must go on and art projects must be redesigned as necessary. I extend my sympathies to all other art students in this predicament and hope that your professors will see to reason someday.
I am certainly glad that I will not be required to attend any classes once at school. That is not to say that I shall not be popping in on one every now and then, but I intend to do most of my learning in the library. I have been told that there are many delightfully secluded little nooks in which a squid might comfortably settle down with a scholarly journal or classic work of fiction and not have to worry about bothersome humans poking their noses every ten minutes. Quite frankly, I doubt human students even use libraries anymore... certainly not paper-and-ink, academic ones. I am sure it will be quite suited to my needs and that I will be able to pursue a squid-driven education with no human professors to muddle things up.
Unfortunately, readers, I must cut this short. There is a cat eyeing me from the doorway and I feel that it is in my best interest to conceal myself until it removes its offensive presence.
Cheers,
Squidmore
I am certainly glad that I will not be required to attend any classes once at school. That is not to say that I shall not be popping in on one every now and then, but I intend to do most of my learning in the library. I have been told that there are many delightfully secluded little nooks in which a squid might comfortably settle down with a scholarly journal or classic work of fiction and not have to worry about bothersome humans poking their noses every ten minutes. Quite frankly, I doubt human students even use libraries anymore... certainly not paper-and-ink, academic ones. I am sure it will be quite suited to my needs and that I will be able to pursue a squid-driven education with no human professors to muddle things up.
Unfortunately, readers, I must cut this short. There is a cat eyeing me from the doorway and I feel that it is in my best interest to conceal myself until it removes its offensive presence.
Cheers,
Squidmore
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monstra mihi pecuniam...et Squid
I regret to announce that I have allowed Google to put advertisements onto my blog. I do not, however, regret the fact that this shall generate valuable income for my human--who, as I have mentioned, is a college student (self-explanatory). Ignore the ads if you wish, click on them if you are interested in what they have to offer, and keep the poor starving art student in mind.
Cheers,
Squidmore
Cheers,
Squidmore
Quid quid latine dictum sit per Squid, altum videtur.
Good afternoon, all. I was not particularly disposed to blog yesterday, but my human informed me that she had exciting news she wished to relay to the general world and so I shall oblige her:
A much-anticipated parcel from home arrived at the distinguished Herriott Hall in her name today, and when she unwrapped the loot in her room she found many delightful items. The best of which included a bag of shimmery, triple chocolate M&Ms that, upon their discovery, nearly caused her to topple out of her chair with joy. Personally, I cannot understand the human attraction to such things, but, as I may desire a care package of my own someday, I am willing to be open-minded.
I engaged in some healthful exercise today that involved repeatedly bouncing on my human's bed. I believe I nearly touched the ceiling after one of my more exuberant efforts! Leaping to and fro may seem like a rather wasteful use of one's energy, but I find that it is both physically and intellectually stimulating and therefore encourage the rest of the world's population to give it a try. I am told that such activities could prove unsuccessful at college, where the beds are lofted to unseemly heights in order to provide the humans some workspace underneath. Ingenius creatures you are, humans, but a squid does need his recreation time. The situation may require some adjustments. Nevertheless, I am eager to begin my academic journey at college and hope that my experiences will come close to rivaling my penpal, Squidly's, adventures, which sound enviably exciting and quite daring at times.
Judging by the sinister rumblings that have begun to pulse through my innards, the time has come for me to seek out some nourishment. To dinner, then!
Cheers,
Squidmore
A much-anticipated parcel from home arrived at the distinguished Herriott Hall in her name today, and when she unwrapped the loot in her room she found many delightful items. The best of which included a bag of shimmery, triple chocolate M&Ms that, upon their discovery, nearly caused her to topple out of her chair with joy. Personally, I cannot understand the human attraction to such things, but, as I may desire a care package of my own someday, I am willing to be open-minded.
I engaged in some healthful exercise today that involved repeatedly bouncing on my human's bed. I believe I nearly touched the ceiling after one of my more exuberant efforts! Leaping to and fro may seem like a rather wasteful use of one's energy, but I find that it is both physically and intellectually stimulating and therefore encourage the rest of the world's population to give it a try. I am told that such activities could prove unsuccessful at college, where the beds are lofted to unseemly heights in order to provide the humans some workspace underneath. Ingenius creatures you are, humans, but a squid does need his recreation time. The situation may require some adjustments. Nevertheless, I am eager to begin my academic journey at college and hope that my experiences will come close to rivaling my penpal, Squidly's, adventures, which sound enviably exciting and quite daring at times.
Judging by the sinister rumblings that have begun to pulse through my innards, the time has come for me to seek out some nourishment. To dinner, then!
Cheers,
Squidmore
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Ad Hoc Squid
If you are a reasonably intelligent human being, which, based on my observations, are not as rare as some people would insist, you may have noticed that I happen to be a squid. As squids are not commonly spotted living juxtaposed with the human population, the fact that a squid such as myself has the capabilities to blog may come as a bit of a surprise. It may call into question the basic nature and habits of a squid. This is quite understandable. As such, I shall elaborate on my own personal experiences and hope that I am able to shed some light on what I find to be a thoroughly enjoyable and enriching lifestyle.
I do not recall the exact moment when I ceased to be a heap of red fleece material and became a fully-fledged being, but I know that the process was a long and laborious one involving many needlepricks and tying of knots. I was glad to be finished. One of my earliest memories, which I believe to date from early on in my creation process, was seeing a pile of maroon fleece sitting beside me, undergoing a similarly difficult and painful process. It went on to become my penpal, Squidly, who lives in California and who is, I believe, the only other squid of our kind. We are a rare and intelligent breed.
I currently live at home, but in a mere two weeks I will be travelling to college with a human named Cec. She can be a strange one at times, but she feeds me and for that I am grateful and willing to overlook her occasional oddities. For instance, when she came to college nearly a month ago I was forgotten in her room and left to my own devices. Squidly's human was much more thoughtful in that respect. Still, being the generous squid that I most assuredly am, I shall be relaying any interesting anecdotes from her life by means of this blog, since she clearly does not have the time to do it herself.
Alas, dear reader, my bedtime approaches (I maintain a strict schedule to ensure my optimal health, which I am told will deteriorate rapidly under the influence of college food and sleep schedules. Let us hope I have been misinformed.) and so I shall be ending this post forthwith. Allow me to assure you that it has been a pleasure to share a small crumb of my life with you tonight and that I will be continuing to do so as often as possible.
For now, I shall leave you with an uplifting squid-related activity for your personal enjoyment:
http://squid.tepapa.govt.nz/build-a-squid/interactive
Cheers,
Squidmore
I do not recall the exact moment when I ceased to be a heap of red fleece material and became a fully-fledged being, but I know that the process was a long and laborious one involving many needlepricks and tying of knots. I was glad to be finished. One of my earliest memories, which I believe to date from early on in my creation process, was seeing a pile of maroon fleece sitting beside me, undergoing a similarly difficult and painful process. It went on to become my penpal, Squidly, who lives in California and who is, I believe, the only other squid of our kind. We are a rare and intelligent breed.
I currently live at home, but in a mere two weeks I will be travelling to college with a human named Cec. She can be a strange one at times, but she feeds me and for that I am grateful and willing to overlook her occasional oddities. For instance, when she came to college nearly a month ago I was forgotten in her room and left to my own devices. Squidly's human was much more thoughtful in that respect. Still, being the generous squid that I most assuredly am, I shall be relaying any interesting anecdotes from her life by means of this blog, since she clearly does not have the time to do it herself.
Alas, dear reader, my bedtime approaches (I maintain a strict schedule to ensure my optimal health, which I am told will deteriorate rapidly under the influence of college food and sleep schedules. Let us hope I have been misinformed.) and so I shall be ending this post forthwith. Allow me to assure you that it has been a pleasure to share a small crumb of my life with you tonight and that I will be continuing to do so as often as possible.
For now, I shall leave you with an uplifting squid-related activity for your personal enjoyment:
http://squid.tepapa.govt.nz/build-a-squid/interactive
Cheers,
Squidmore
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