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
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