I'm just working for the weekend. Time in, time out, day in, day out. Is that all there is to life?
Speculating cause and effect,
~Chiko;
PS. Happy birthday to me tomorrow.
Reflective Metal Ball 5x7
5 years ago
June 20, 2009
June 14, 2009
WARNING: Reading this will give you Cancer
By Dr. Augustus Ignatius Peruvio-Vilanculous (AKA Chiko)
DISCLAIMER: THIS ARTICLE IS HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH. MULTIPLE STUDIES HAVE SHOWN THAT READING THIS ARTICLE IS A DIRECT LINK TO CANCER. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
“Cough. Hack, hack, wheeeeze, cough!” A lengthy list of symptoms; fever, persistent cough, swollen glands, difficulty swallowing, hoarse voice. A brief diagnosis concludes you are inevitably dieing from your currently undetermined ailment. Originally we hypothesized bovine spongiform encephalopathy, but tests results returned a solid negative from the lab. After a second, more precise examination, we speculated the chances of your illness being the globally feared severe acute respiratory syndrome. Again, further analysis yielded negative results. A third series of evaluations revealed a shocking conclusion, having tested positive for malignant neoplasm. We regret to inform you that yes, you have infectious cancer teaming under your skin.
This article has been designed to provide acute information covering the pandemic of cancer to the world. This disease causes groups of cells in your body to display an uncontrolled growth. Non stop, they are dividing beyond the normal limits of human cells, intruding and destructing the adjacent tissues. There is a possibility the cancer cells will spread to other sections of your body via lymph or blood.
Any organism, not excluding humans, animals, or even plants, will acquire cancer. As detrimental errors build up in the cancer cell and its progeny, the cancer gradually arises. Cancers are caused by abnormalities in the genetic material of transformed cells. These abnormalities are due to the effects of carcinogens, such as radiation, infectious agents, tobacco smoke, or chemicals. Errors in DNA replication may also result in randomly acquired cancer-promoting genetic abnormalities. There is a high probability your mother purposely transferred her genetic errors into your DNA when you were conceived, aiding you to inherit the cancer from your father. The shame to think they loved you so!
According to multiple studies done nation wide, almost anything you partake in will lead to the developing of dreaded cancer. A large quantity of artificially produced beverages, instant meals, and superfluous activities have a high rate of cancer exposure. Processed meats contain traces of cancer cells buried deep within the layers of delicious, fatty goodness. When consumed, your body herds the genetic abnormalities and imbibes them with your own erroneous cells. For each can of red bull you ingest, thirty eight cancer cells transfer into your human body, decreasing the time until you contract cancer by one point three percent. Tobacco products increase the amount of cancer within your body by a total of ninety percent. Tobacco smoke contains over fifty known carcinogens, including nitrosamines and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. It is estimated to be responsible for one in three of all cancer deaths in the developed world, and approximately one in five over dramatic deaths worldwide. The other four are a result of attention-starved drama queens. Each cigarette contains fifty eight percent cancer contaminants affecting your lungs, larynx, head, neck, stomach, bladder, kidney, esophagus, and pancreas. The tobacco companies are practically pumping you chalk full of cancer. The tobacco epidemic, a rise in the number of smokers worldwide, is an organization striving to promote cancer through tobacco related purchases. A recent University study also deduced that microwaved movie popcorn will give you cancer. The micro waves emitted through the front door of the machine during the heating process pierce through your skin, heading like torpedoes to your cancer cells, activating the dormant cancer. The popcorn kernels are infused with cancer while being heated, and ingesting the popped corn embezzles the cancer further. Harmful UV rays are as harmful as described by scientific experts. Sunbathing, tanning beds and picnics all include over exposure to sunlight. A ten second trip from the front door of your homely home to side door of the van is a cancer exposure beyond fathomable proportions. Not a single aspect of human society, culture and life is free from the risks and dangers of cancer. For your protection, a state law is being enforced entailing each product that contains cancer to bear a disclaimer stating so.
The opinions of inadequate journalists on medical research papers have led countless to believe that numerous entities are 'not direct links' to cancer, providing society with false hope for survival. This is a government issue article backed by very accomplished experts. Any and all statements produced by media stations are hereby declared incorrect. Cancer is terminal. I repeat, cancer is a fatal disease with zero chance of avoiding and a negative twenty nine percent cure rate.
We have devised a solution to combat the viral spread of cancer. Composed of specially designed air filters, virus resistant nanofiber material, and stylish UV protective Plexiglas, the Cancer Hazard Suit is the sole protection against Cancer. The Cancer Hazard Suit has more perks when contrasted to the common cold-resistant Life Bubble, as sported by Bubble Boy. This splash guard coverall has serge seams, zipper front closure, attached hood and everything proof gloves, mask and boots. When worn properly, the Cancer Hazard Suit is completely air tight with permi-lock zippers to prevent cancer from leaking into the suit. Once closed, nothing can enter and nothing can get out, protecting not only you from outside cancer elements, but quarantining your variations of cancer from loved ones. All Cancer Hazard garments combine the toughness of TYVEK fabric with a quality coating of polyethylene.
Containment plans have been put in place, for your safety, and are in effect immediately. Each person, upon completion of this informative pack, is to transport to their designated Culture-Dome. Bring only what is needed, as this will be your new quarantined residence. Persons have been grouped based upon the characteristics and severity of their cancer. Thereafter, each person will enter the decontamination room for a total wash down. Following those instructions they are to don their numbered Cancer Hazard suit. Upon completion of these specific safety protocols, each person is free to operate on their own conduct within the confines of their Culture-Dome.
- END TRANSMISSION
DISCLAIMER: THIS ARTICLE IS HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH. MULTIPLE STUDIES HAVE SHOWN THAT READING THIS ARTICLE IS A DIRECT LINK TO CANCER. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
“Cough. Hack, hack, wheeeeze, cough!” A lengthy list of symptoms; fever, persistent cough, swollen glands, difficulty swallowing, hoarse voice. A brief diagnosis concludes you are inevitably dieing from your currently undetermined ailment. Originally we hypothesized bovine spongiform encephalopathy, but tests results returned a solid negative from the lab. After a second, more precise examination, we speculated the chances of your illness being the globally feared severe acute respiratory syndrome. Again, further analysis yielded negative results. A third series of evaluations revealed a shocking conclusion, having tested positive for malignant neoplasm. We regret to inform you that yes, you have infectious cancer teaming under your skin.
This article has been designed to provide acute information covering the pandemic of cancer to the world. This disease causes groups of cells in your body to display an uncontrolled growth. Non stop, they are dividing beyond the normal limits of human cells, intruding and destructing the adjacent tissues. There is a possibility the cancer cells will spread to other sections of your body via lymph or blood.
Any organism, not excluding humans, animals, or even plants, will acquire cancer. As detrimental errors build up in the cancer cell and its progeny, the cancer gradually arises. Cancers are caused by abnormalities in the genetic material of transformed cells. These abnormalities are due to the effects of carcinogens, such as radiation, infectious agents, tobacco smoke, or chemicals. Errors in DNA replication may also result in randomly acquired cancer-promoting genetic abnormalities. There is a high probability your mother purposely transferred her genetic errors into your DNA when you were conceived, aiding you to inherit the cancer from your father. The shame to think they loved you so!
According to multiple studies done nation wide, almost anything you partake in will lead to the developing of dreaded cancer. A large quantity of artificially produced beverages, instant meals, and superfluous activities have a high rate of cancer exposure. Processed meats contain traces of cancer cells buried deep within the layers of delicious, fatty goodness. When consumed, your body herds the genetic abnormalities and imbibes them with your own erroneous cells. For each can of red bull you ingest, thirty eight cancer cells transfer into your human body, decreasing the time until you contract cancer by one point three percent. Tobacco products increase the amount of cancer within your body by a total of ninety percent. Tobacco smoke contains over fifty known carcinogens, including nitrosamines and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. It is estimated to be responsible for one in three of all cancer deaths in the developed world, and approximately one in five over dramatic deaths worldwide. The other four are a result of attention-starved drama queens. Each cigarette contains fifty eight percent cancer contaminants affecting your lungs, larynx, head, neck, stomach, bladder, kidney, esophagus, and pancreas. The tobacco companies are practically pumping you chalk full of cancer. The tobacco epidemic, a rise in the number of smokers worldwide, is an organization striving to promote cancer through tobacco related purchases. A recent University study also deduced that microwaved movie popcorn will give you cancer. The micro waves emitted through the front door of the machine during the heating process pierce through your skin, heading like torpedoes to your cancer cells, activating the dormant cancer. The popcorn kernels are infused with cancer while being heated, and ingesting the popped corn embezzles the cancer further. Harmful UV rays are as harmful as described by scientific experts. Sunbathing, tanning beds and picnics all include over exposure to sunlight. A ten second trip from the front door of your homely home to side door of the van is a cancer exposure beyond fathomable proportions. Not a single aspect of human society, culture and life is free from the risks and dangers of cancer. For your protection, a state law is being enforced entailing each product that contains cancer to bear a disclaimer stating so.
The opinions of inadequate journalists on medical research papers have led countless to believe that numerous entities are 'not direct links' to cancer, providing society with false hope for survival. This is a government issue article backed by very accomplished experts. Any and all statements produced by media stations are hereby declared incorrect. Cancer is terminal. I repeat, cancer is a fatal disease with zero chance of avoiding and a negative twenty nine percent cure rate.
We have devised a solution to combat the viral spread of cancer. Composed of specially designed air filters, virus resistant nanofiber material, and stylish UV protective Plexiglas, the Cancer Hazard Suit is the sole protection against Cancer. The Cancer Hazard Suit has more perks when contrasted to the common cold-resistant Life Bubble, as sported by Bubble Boy. This splash guard coverall has serge seams, zipper front closure, attached hood and everything proof gloves, mask and boots. When worn properly, the Cancer Hazard Suit is completely air tight with permi-lock zippers to prevent cancer from leaking into the suit. Once closed, nothing can enter and nothing can get out, protecting not only you from outside cancer elements, but quarantining your variations of cancer from loved ones. All Cancer Hazard garments combine the toughness of TYVEK fabric with a quality coating of polyethylene.
Containment plans have been put in place, for your safety, and are in effect immediately. Each person, upon completion of this informative pack, is to transport to their designated Culture-Dome. Bring only what is needed, as this will be your new quarantined residence. Persons have been grouped based upon the characteristics and severity of their cancer. Thereafter, each person will enter the decontamination room for a total wash down. Following those instructions they are to don their numbered Cancer Hazard suit. Upon completion of these specific safety protocols, each person is free to operate on their own conduct within the confines of their Culture-Dome.
- END TRANSMISSION
June 11, 2009
And Otherwise...
(this is the post script I wrote for my Writers Craft anthology)
It seems the joy of writing our wonderfully satisfying parting message has befallen the likes of one such as myself. I shall put forth my most sincerest efforts to avoid your cliché post script of “We had a fun year, will miss you all, hugs and kisses, yours truly.” No, that is not at all my style. Its mud icing on a dirt cake, nothing appealing or excitingly tasteful about it. Also, it would be a stain on my reputation as the sardonic student who consistently returns the gibes to our witty and nonetheless caustic teacher. Perhaps I lack the inspiration or the proper mindset to write a heartfelt postscript piece. But, it almost seems befitting that I am the master behind this particular work. I like to call myself a human thesaurus, but words might not be enough to describe the many adventures of my fellow linguistic entrepreneurs. From chatting to composing, our individual minds, as unique in physical and alike in essence they are, synced to create masterpieces such as the one we devoted to our beloved Curtains.
We endeavored to aid our teacher in discovering the miracles and anomalies of his newly acquired iPhone. The shiny black electronic inspired the theme for this very anthology, as you may or may not have noticed. Despite the passion, even the greatest of inspirations can lose to the vicious monster we dubbed Writers Block. For every obstacle set before us, from sestinas to villanelles, we worked independently and cooperatively to accomplish victory. On a side note, I believe Writers Block is attempting to squirm into this very masterpiece, but I digress. We suffered confusion in disrupted environments; apparently other English classes thought not of us as they rearranged our desks on multiple occasions. But no challenge was too great to heed our creative writings. Through sleet and snow, sun and storm, we weathered up hill both ways!
The white horse’s leap over the fence lead us on our journey through the course. Rather than telling our stories, we showed our stories to our audiences through words. We could spin a tale in as short as 55 words, or produce satires whose length numbered in the thousands. As your stereotypical class would, we gawked and booed over every amounting assignment, but fulfilled each task with originality and dedication. Now, I shall avoid any concluding statements; such as “Let’s continue to follow the white horse on our path to becoming wonderful, successful, creative writers!” Why follow the white horse when we can follow the white rabbit? He has the time of day, if you are quick enough to catch him. So let us leave him alone and come forth from the rabbit’s hole to break the barriers of ingenuity!
Yours Truly,
Chiko.
It seems the joy of writing our wonderfully satisfying parting message has befallen the likes of one such as myself. I shall put forth my most sincerest efforts to avoid your cliché post script of “We had a fun year, will miss you all, hugs and kisses, yours truly.” No, that is not at all my style. Its mud icing on a dirt cake, nothing appealing or excitingly tasteful about it. Also, it would be a stain on my reputation as the sardonic student who consistently returns the gibes to our witty and nonetheless caustic teacher. Perhaps I lack the inspiration or the proper mindset to write a heartfelt postscript piece. But, it almost seems befitting that I am the master behind this particular work. I like to call myself a human thesaurus, but words might not be enough to describe the many adventures of my fellow linguistic entrepreneurs. From chatting to composing, our individual minds, as unique in physical and alike in essence they are, synced to create masterpieces such as the one we devoted to our beloved Curtains.
We endeavored to aid our teacher in discovering the miracles and anomalies of his newly acquired iPhone. The shiny black electronic inspired the theme for this very anthology, as you may or may not have noticed. Despite the passion, even the greatest of inspirations can lose to the vicious monster we dubbed Writers Block. For every obstacle set before us, from sestinas to villanelles, we worked independently and cooperatively to accomplish victory. On a side note, I believe Writers Block is attempting to squirm into this very masterpiece, but I digress. We suffered confusion in disrupted environments; apparently other English classes thought not of us as they rearranged our desks on multiple occasions. But no challenge was too great to heed our creative writings. Through sleet and snow, sun and storm, we weathered up hill both ways!
The white horse’s leap over the fence lead us on our journey through the course. Rather than telling our stories, we showed our stories to our audiences through words. We could spin a tale in as short as 55 words, or produce satires whose length numbered in the thousands. As your stereotypical class would, we gawked and booed over every amounting assignment, but fulfilled each task with originality and dedication. Now, I shall avoid any concluding statements; such as “Let’s continue to follow the white horse on our path to becoming wonderful, successful, creative writers!” Why follow the white horse when we can follow the white rabbit? He has the time of day, if you are quick enough to catch him. So let us leave him alone and come forth from the rabbit’s hole to break the barriers of ingenuity!
Yours Truly,
Chiko.
June 3, 2009
An Old Flickering Theatre Reel
I saw a red ball cap.
No one else wore a red hat, or any hat at all. I thought that peculiar. With your back to the screen, I sat on the very top right of the theatre, fourth seat from the right wall. Facing the screen, my friend sat on my right and two and a half empty seats to my left (my empty bag of popcorn sat taking up half a seat). During the course of my over enthusiastic, popcorn-infatuated gobbling, a few pieces missed their target and fell to the floor. I laughed at the poor fools whose duty it is to clean this mess. I pondered tossing a few more pieces on purpose, it would help keep those theatre workers employed. I am a sincerely cruel person. I watched an odd, oldish couple sit in front of me. How awkward they looked, I guessed they were re-enacting dates from their teen years. I mused myself, although partially agitated, with the pairs and groups of people pondering the availability of the three vacant seats to my left, despite the rows of unfulfilled seats beneath my particular location in the theatre. One intriguing girl positioned herself in the middle most of the three empty seats. She leaned over and found it necessary to interrupt my important conversation to inform me of how her two friends would be joining her shortly and how the other two empty seats shall be designated to them; I vaguely recall her insinuating the relocation of my depleted popcorn bag, but her friends failed to show and to my left the Empire Theatres bag remained. The lights dimmed and I discovered myself wishing I could go to a movie where the lights turned off (when there was actually a difference between on and off, not these fancy dimmers) and the movie projector made loud reeling noises and flickered momentarily like a bug colliding with a a bug zapper. The projected movie on the canvas would flash 5-4-3-2-1-0 and the movie would start. Oh, how it must have been in the olden days. But I'm stuck in this would-be-then sci-fi advance theatre, how boring. I leaned my head on my hand and my eyes traced lazily down my silhouette to the blue-cushioned arm rest of my theatre seat. A pang of memories came flooding back. Months ago, myself and him sitting in a theatre not unlike this one. His hand entwined with mine. His excuse: he’s cold. My thoughts: a lame excuse. My pathetic attempts to disguise my overly-happy smirk fell beyond me. I can still remember the contrast in temperature between his hand with mine, each of his cool fingers resting firmly in the grooves between my knuckles. Our arms, twisted in a vine-like embrace, oddly comforting to have the warmth of his soft skin touch mine. I remember the innocent actions which sparked fire within us; a squeeze of a hand, a movement to close the already nonexistent gap between us. Now, I think inwards of myself. I want nothing, miss nothing, love nothing. I do not feel regret or remorse, upset or disappointed. The void that is not a void within me is neither broken nor empty, and definitely not full. My mind loops like an old movie reel, “I miss him, I want him to return”. But honestly, I do not understand why. Why would I think those thoughts if I feel infinitely nothing?
I hate movie theatres.
~Chiko.
No one else wore a red hat, or any hat at all. I thought that peculiar. With your back to the screen, I sat on the very top right of the theatre, fourth seat from the right wall. Facing the screen, my friend sat on my right and two and a half empty seats to my left (my empty bag of popcorn sat taking up half a seat). During the course of my over enthusiastic, popcorn-infatuated gobbling, a few pieces missed their target and fell to the floor. I laughed at the poor fools whose duty it is to clean this mess. I pondered tossing a few more pieces on purpose, it would help keep those theatre workers employed. I am a sincerely cruel person. I watched an odd, oldish couple sit in front of me. How awkward they looked, I guessed they were re-enacting dates from their teen years. I mused myself, although partially agitated, with the pairs and groups of people pondering the availability of the three vacant seats to my left, despite the rows of unfulfilled seats beneath my particular location in the theatre. One intriguing girl positioned herself in the middle most of the three empty seats. She leaned over and found it necessary to interrupt my important conversation to inform me of how her two friends would be joining her shortly and how the other two empty seats shall be designated to them; I vaguely recall her insinuating the relocation of my depleted popcorn bag, but her friends failed to show and to my left the Empire Theatres bag remained. The lights dimmed and I discovered myself wishing I could go to a movie where the lights turned off (when there was actually a difference between on and off, not these fancy dimmers) and the movie projector made loud reeling noises and flickered momentarily like a bug colliding with a a bug zapper. The projected movie on the canvas would flash 5-4-3-2-1-0 and the movie would start. Oh, how it must have been in the olden days. But I'm stuck in this would-be-then sci-fi advance theatre, how boring. I leaned my head on my hand and my eyes traced lazily down my silhouette to the blue-cushioned arm rest of my theatre seat. A pang of memories came flooding back. Months ago, myself and him sitting in a theatre not unlike this one. His hand entwined with mine. His excuse: he’s cold. My thoughts: a lame excuse. My pathetic attempts to disguise my overly-happy smirk fell beyond me. I can still remember the contrast in temperature between his hand with mine, each of his cool fingers resting firmly in the grooves between my knuckles. Our arms, twisted in a vine-like embrace, oddly comforting to have the warmth of his soft skin touch mine. I remember the innocent actions which sparked fire within us; a squeeze of a hand, a movement to close the already nonexistent gap between us. Now, I think inwards of myself. I want nothing, miss nothing, love nothing. I do not feel regret or remorse, upset or disappointed. The void that is not a void within me is neither broken nor empty, and definitely not full. My mind loops like an old movie reel, “I miss him, I want him to return”. But honestly, I do not understand why. Why would I think those thoughts if I feel infinitely nothing?
I hate movie theatres.
~Chiko.
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