I so very badly want to see this book made into a movie.

Today was spent watching Lawrence of Arabia and The Mummy, after doing some homework to the musical stylings of Faruk Salama. These last twelve hours watching people romping around in deserts have given me the direction in life that I have been seeking for the past twelve years, and I have decided that when I grow up I want to be a French scholar based in Ottoman-era Istanbul comissioned to study the history of Arab warfare. Oh, and I would like to be a man when all this happens, so I may don a neat-looking keffiyeh and change my name to Omar Sharif.

I realize a time travelling machine must be procured before all else. But surely this is nothing but a mild setback (I bought a flux capacitator from the black market), because the real problem now lies in my ability to pass for a Frenchman.

If I had one of those fabulously notorious Halloween parties to attend, I think I would don a simple black and white get-up and call myself The Dichotomy of Good and Evil. However, it is also highly tempting to go as a sulphur atom, then recruit two friends to go as oxygen atoms, douse ourselves with rotten eggs, and unite to be Sulphur Dioxide.

Unfortunately, I do not have a fabulously notorious Halloween party to attend, on account of my being neither fabulous or notorious. But fortunately for a handful of rambunctious party-goers, they are spared the grief of being on the receiving end of a lecture on dualism and covalent bonds.

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Someone has left a strange-looking something sitting atop a slab of aluminum foil on a counter-top in the communal kitchen. It slouches with the sadness of an abandoned baking project (a strawberry shortcake gone wrong, perhaps), but it could also easily be an invading alien life-form in utero, steadily aggregating strength while waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Either way, it must be destroyed.

OMG! OMG! OMG!