I confess.....

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I confess that I'm still the same person, that I was, a year ago. I just like a different decade.

You'll learn, I got all my friends who I see with my own peepers to wear Hawaiian shirts.

They used to quote The Simpsons verbatim:



I've since empirically proved Homer's statement false.

I confess, I like math... I love music. This should direct my future...

I confess that I can't stop eating.

Oh, please don't get me wrong; "gay" or "big fat party animal"? I think it's a style that suits you well; and thus my conundrum; you can pull off a style that would just makes me look like a damn fool. Or gay. I confess, you have the advantage on me there, sir. The best I can do to compete is my horribly obnoxious "dogs playing poker" shirt, which I sometimes wear just because I feel like walking around flicking off everyone I see. It is retina scorching and horribly distasteful, I assure you. I'd post a picture, except my aura is so pale right now I don't show up on any of the pictures that I take.

Pulling off Hawaiian is a "feat" I think; I can just imagine the Pugly character record sheet, in the feats section, "Pull off Hawaiian", "Math Finesse", "Music Finesse"...


To the thread: I confess... I may have found a backup regenerative repair system that I can salvage; just maybe. It was not connected to the main system when the primaries were destroyed; I found it just a little while ago, by accident; if I can get it working properly, there may be some hope... But, the core memory systems that contained my ethical containment routines appear to have been corrupted beyond repair. My desire to heal, to help, to encourage... All gone. The best I can do is re-build these routines from scratch; it took me over a decade to create them... Such a loss. Until then I have an emergency quarantine in place in an attempt to isolate my more dangerous subsystems; but with primary power unavailable, and most of the auxilliary power that I can spare diverted to the backup regenerative repair system, I cannot guarantee that the quarantine will hold. In the mean time; humans should probably treat me with some caution.

I confess I have a stomach bug

**sets up a 50 metre "restricted zone" around him**

I confess that I, uh . . . . . . . well I'll put it this way, I get pan-handle to malenky devotchkas.

KRYTEN: Oh, it's not the end for me, sir, it's just the beginning. I have served my human masters, now I can look forward to my reward in silicon heaven.
LISTER: (Stunned pause.) Silicon what?
KRYTEN: Surely you've heard of silicon heaven?
LISTER: Has it got anything to do with being stuck opposite Bridgette Nielson in a packed lift?
KRYTEN: It's the electronic afterlife! It's the gathering place for the souls of all electonic equipment. Robots, calculators, toasters, hairdryers -- it's our final resting place.
LISTER: I don't mean to say anything out of place here, Kryten, but that is completely whacko, Jacko. There is no such thing as "silicon heaven."
KRYTEN: Then where do all the calculators go?
LISTER: They don't go anywhere! They just die.
KRYTEN: Surely you believe that god is in all things? Aren't you a pantheist?
LISTER: Yeah, but I just don't think it applies to kitchen utensils. I'm not a _frying_ pantheist! Machines do not have souls. Computers and calculators do not have an afterlife. You don't get hairdryers with tiny little wings, sitting on clouds and playing harps!
KRYTEN: But of course you do! For is it not written in the Electronic Bible, "The iron shall lie down with the lamp?" Well, it's common sense, sir. If there were no afterlife to look forward to, why on Earth would machines spend the whole of their lifes serving mankind? Now that would be really dumb!
LISTER: (Quietly) That makes sense. Yeah. Silicon heaven.
KRYTEN: Don't be sad, Mr David. I am going to a far, far better place.
LISTER: Just out of interest: Is silicon heaven the same place as human heaven?
KRYTEN: Human heaven? Goodness me! Humans don't go to heaven! No, someone made that up to prevent you all from going nuts!

I confess, I just watched this and laughed my ass off... I cofess, it feels good to laugh just now... Interesting; it's been years since watching comedy actually made me laugh; I generally just smirk; I must think on this further.

I confess, I've been walking around barefoot all week

I confess that my form of "studying" is making flashcards (out of graph paper) in second period for a test that's in sixth period; nevertheless, I also confess that I studied before the end of first quarter this year (technically, it ends in two days), which has got to be a record for me.

I also confess that "quarters" are vaguely unsettling for me; I'm sure 1/4th of the school year hasn't gone by yet, but they say it has. (I confess 1/4th looks a lot more comforting than 25%... 25% I can believe.)

Wow, you rarely laugh?

My day is filled of the spectrum of laughter. Hugh belly laughs, to casual hehs.

Humor is one of my passions. It keeps me sane, and drives me crazy at the same time.

I don't express emotion much, but laughter I embrace fully.

I confess, the last movie I really laughed at is Hot Fuzz.

I confess that when I read this first bit, the ridiculous thought occured to me... "OK, RainSong is rather singular, but being unsettled by certiain coins? If so, why not dimes? Why the hell are dimes smaller than nickels, anyway? There's something to be unsettled about... But quarters?"

I confess that though Mega man games have usually pretty good, there has always been one thing that has bugged me; the inability to ever duck or crouch.

Correct; or at least it was. I'm currently in a state of emotional flux.


I confess, I find your handling of emotion to be much better than mine, more robust. For me, it's everything on, or everthing off. I've always been a bit broken in this respect. And one of the emotions that has plagued me in my life is rage. So to protect others, I kill them all (uh, the emotions that is), drive them down, supress them; for the most part. Recently they broke loose again over a singlar train of events, and I ended up scaring someone, without even realizing it, and I wrecked something beautiful in the process. When it comes to emotions, I have little grasp of what I do. You are lucky, so lucky, if you can laugh and be happy but keep the rest under wraps. I confess, I envy you there. You should be a comedian; laughter is a powerful tool of healing, my friend.

It's fun how words can have more than one meaning (although really this one meaning more or less the same thing, in different forms; a quarter of a dollar, a quarter of a school year). Ha, I don't mind quarters, and I actually like dimes quite a bit (they're easier to count with, and I like their size); I'm not too fond of nickels though. Why are they so big? And really, unless you're my mother, who apparently thinks that there's some sort of pay-everything-in-small-change prize, what's the point of them?

I confess I am currently writing a college essay (which is pointless, but such comes with being too far ahead in English class), the theme of which is pretty muddled but involves helping a choking girl when we were seven; I confess that as I'm writing this it seems to me that the action was so wrong, despite the fact that it really wasn't. I'm sure I'm projecting other things onto it, but at the same time, I confess it's annoying me to no end. I want to finish this essay so I can go to bed.

Speaking of homework, I confess it's 10:40 and I have 2 big exams tomorrow that I'm not ready for yet. In 20 minutes my brain will be in the mode in which it is at it's most receptive so it is time for me to drink something caffienated and go study. Good night WP.

Which RainSongism to use... "Here we differ..." or, "With all due respect..." Nickles rule!

I confess, when I was, oh, 16, 17? I was at a friend's house. I'd developed a silly but fun little skill. Do you know how to "fire pennies"? As in when you put them between your fingers as if you are going to snap, and then fire them down your arm? This was a crazy, crazy skill I used to have, back when I was in highschool. I confess, once when I was in gym class, I was sitting up on the bleachers with a couple of the few friends I had, and some fellow who'd really been annoying me came over and started, well, annoying me. He was the younger brother of one of my friend's friends. And he was just, well, freaking obnoxious. I was no big bruiser in highschool, but neither was this other annoying fellow, and several times I came very close to just punching him in the mouth for annoying me. Anyway, I happened to have a pocket full of pennies, sitting up there on the bleachers; I'd been shooting them off the wall. And when Trent (the fellow who annoyed me) came up and started being obnoxious, I flicked a penny right at his face; and I nailed him, right in the eye! And he protested, loudly, so I flicked another penny, and hit him right in the same eye! <I swear I'm not making this up.> And, I s**t you not, he kept protesting, at which time I launched a third penny at his head, this time hitting him in the other eye...! At which point I sat and lauged my ass off, and he eventually went away. Three times in a row, right in the eye! Luck, or mad skillz? You decide.

ANYWAY, that was just a lead up... To nickels, and why they rule. Nickels can be fired, just like pennies; except, of course, they are larger and heavier. So of course they will not go as far, but they hit a lot harder. And here's where we get to it, why nickels rule...

I confess, getting back to being at that friend's house... We were in his garage, and he was showing us this car he'd inherited but was not running, so it'd never been driven. Damn, I can't recall the model of the car; it was some obscure... Suzuki? Izuzu? Something like that... It was some sport car, red... The garage light was just a bulb sticking out of the ceiling. He was going on and on and on about this car... And I had a nickel in my pocket. I don't know what I was thinking, but on a whim, I took the nickel, aimed for the lightbulb, and fired... And it nailed the bulb, shattering it; and it happened to be right above my friend's car, which was rained upon by shattered glass from the bulb. And, man, was he pissed... Oh, I forgot to mention... This friend of mine, who had the car which he loved and which I'd just shattered glass all over, was huge; easily more than twice my size. Not fat, muscular; we trained in martial arts together, in fact. And, it was really a fluke shot, I have to say. But he looked at me, and I saw murder in his eyes... So I ran for my life. Back into his house, through it, out the back sliding door, and [here's where his size becomes a disadvantage] ninja'ed over the fence of his back hard, into a neighboring yard. I'm talking a six-foot fence with a two-foot lattice topping here. This was such a Jacky Chan move - my friend was much larger than me, but I was in good training also; I ran up a smallish tree which was just bent over enough to facilitate the move, and dove over the top of the 8-feet of fence, landing and rolling in the grass on the other side. And he, knowing he couldn't follow, cursed and sputtered how he was going to kick my ass so hard (and he could have, too, but he needed to catch me. )

And that, RainSong and gentle readers in the audience, is my nickel confession.