STATUS REPORT!

• Social: I've started drinking, and it is a secret from no one except the legal authorities. Thus, drunken antics may be transcribed intermittently, and I'll be going to many more parties. Also, hijinks (drunken-type hijinks) are like as not to ensue, albeit with as much safety as possible. We'll keep it to, say, calling Dan Hansen at 1:30 in the morning because I couldn't remember his middle name. Turns out, it's Coleman... I think. My memory is faulty, even at me most stone-cold sober, so it's not all that odd that I have no recollection of, among other things, talking about nachos.
  Status is 90% rocking, which is the theoretical 'not getting kisses' maximum.
• Internet: I've created a LiveJournal account, under the name Murdersaurus. This does not signify a switch over to that damnable web utility, mind you! I did it because... well... basically I do anything pretty girls tell me too. It lets me see the lockèd posts on the weblogs of those friends of mine who do such a thing, as well as conveniently collecting sundry posts of them in one place where I can easily see them. I have no idea what to do with the space otherwise though... ideas are appreciated. Also, pictures of dinosaurs I can edit into a proper murdersaurus.
  Status is awexome to the MAX.
• Health: in light of my newfound fondness for imbibing empty calories, and the fact that that weight I lost be sheer virtue of not being in High School any more has tapered off, methinks it's about time to put myself on a proper d-d-d-d-d-diet.* Nothing harsh, but I'd like to lose this gut before I graduate. I guess step one will be to figure out how much I weigh now... I'm gonna need to get me a bathtub and a gold-plated replica of myself... I think. I should have payed more attention to Archimedes.
  Status is determinately indeterminate.
• Engines: they canna take much more o' this, Cap'n! Half the plasma conduits've ruptured, we're leaking tachyons like nobody's business, the warp field's unstable, the warp core's on fire, and our supply of antimatter seems to have been replaced with a tasty garlic hummus dip. That's not even likely!
  Status is critical. Warp core breech in five, four, three, two...

TO BE CONTINUED...

*That would be a Scooby-Doo "g-g-g-g-ghosts" stutter, not a 50¢ "g-g-g-g-G unit" stutter. Also, how often do those two appear in one sentence? I guess rarely, except with really lame inner-city youths.