Also there's this webdesigner controversy going on right now about the sponsors for the reboot project. Basically, at the bottom of each reboot screen, there are links to these sponsors. Not just on three oh, who are the organizers of reboot, but on every site that's participating-- assuming they all follow the "do not alter" guidelines.

My smart ass take on this whole sponsor thing...honestly, I think it's wet, warm bullshit for threeoh to make everyone keep the links to the sponsors on their site. This should be optional, at least. If you'll notice on my reboot splash, I took off the links...ooh I'm such a rebel...

But seriously. I would embrace the whole sponsor thing more if those sponsors maybe gave each reboot participant a cash prize or something. Maybe a crate of gummy bears for kaosboy...mmm gummy bears...

The more I think about this, the less excited I am about the whole thing. I mean, I'm still gonna redesign my site or whatever, and I'm REALLY psyched to see all the new stuff everybody's gonna poop out...not to mention, threeoh has provided me with endless creative inspiration...yet at the same time, I can't help but question the intentions of threeoh in dealing with the issue of sponsorship in the art form that is webdesign. (note to self: you're such an artfag...)

Phew. I can just hear people telling me "well, if you don't like it, then why'd you sign up, jackass?" Well I dunno what to say. I'm not like slamming a hammer into the wall 'cause this is pissing me off so much, by all means. And I don't have the time right now to make my own "reboot my web designing shithole" splash image of rebellion.

Err ok I'll shut up now. Check out the always inspirational factory512 for hot FUCK.REBOOT action, or read this to witness the thrilling, dramatic world of internet controversy. Man, the emotion & intensity is so hot in there, it almost stings my skin...

"I work for four years and can't even afford to buy the shoes… and Mia Hamm gets rich by only wearing the t-shirts I make with my sweat."
- 22-year-old female Nike factory worker

My dad teases me for not wanting to buy any Nike products. I tease him for his slightly watery lasagne. :)

Uh oh. It's those little tiny things at it again.

poke poke poke...give in, already.

I spent as much time alone as possible, but I already miss everybody and everything.

Yet just when the cookies are crumbling (not looking so good), I open the refrigerator and see the jar full of grapefruit sections she evenly sliced for me. My face lights up. "I'm not a kid anymore," but I know I love it. I appreciate it, embrace it. Every section of fruit is effortlessly sliced with unconditional love and devotion; each three-dimensional triangular grapefruit section is beautiful and appealing in its own way. She smiles through the shadows even when the clouds seem so thick; I wish I knew how she does it.

This is very cool, and much love to Avid @ Rocketsheep for posting my gorilla rhymadoodle. PS: The gorilla's name is "Sam."

Shifting in my seat while reading about the struggle and studying many extremely disturbing / amazing photos, such as: one, two, three, four, & five.

Found on a butane lighter: "Warning: Flame may cause fire."

star fruit = starfruit = carambola = five-angled fruit = five corners = Chinese star fruit = tree melon

Notes: Star fruit have a clean, crisp texture, and they make terrific star-shaped garnishes when sliced. They're also easy to use, since they don't need to be peeled or seeded, and they're slow to discolor. Some varieties are sweet, some are sour. Try to avoid ones that have brown spots or streaks.

Substitutes: melons OR lemon slices (as garnish)

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Ah finally figured out an efficient way to eat my sliced grapefruit without squirting all the pulp and juice all over the place. goddamn now that I think about it, I've eaten like 80 grapefruits since I've been sick (middle of last week). My mom used to always say, "if you eat too much of (insert food product here), one day you're gonna wake up and be (insert food product here)!" I think she referring to the superhuman amounts of watermelon and strawberries I used to -- and still do -- eat.

oops I think I just jinxed myself. My grapefruit just splashed onto my shorts.

You know you enjoyed it today. You were all nervous at first, like everybody was looking at you and pointing like "what the heck is he doing" but you got over it after about 10 minutes. You repeated to yourself, "nobody is watching" over and over and it seemed like I was almost invisible. Yet that's impossible, you could obviously hear the people walking around you and the birds chirping in all directions. You are strange. You are ashamed of this passion. Something you have never experienced in this light before. Let your muscles go limp, your mind believe in being "one with nature."

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"I Love Black Holes"

how much intervention can you circumvent in this hyperspace teleportation when reality is invented in a forcefield shimmering with silent exploration? silence is prominence is peace and happiness in this vibrance of intergalactic dimension of three patterns of intelligence and dominant effervescence. creatures of two dimension seem agnostic in nature as a picture of gravity and humility from observations of illustrated propagation and time-projected black hole static. shy and still and climb the hill towards an escalator of magnificent inward curvature which in turn moves simultaneously explosively as musculated particle juice squeezes my pulp until legs are stretched and eggs are hatched. in darkness and in archangel mathematical theory which is patched by statistical observation and effortless unexpectancy of the increase of birth rate in the magnitude of escape fire determinants to the negative square root of endless extremist passion.

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not found but still functioning correctly, in fact, even better than the previous state. Little patience these days for randomly bumping into them and hearing about the awesome keg party (dude I was so fucked up, I don't even remember what happened. ain't this the life?). Hey I have an idea let's reduce ourselves to unquestioning predictability and then complain about the other redundant lifeforms like they owe us their souls.

Instead I stay focused on what I think results in the special goodness. Growling and howling at the moon, watching silently as the fragile old woman on the bus carefully combs her hair with the My Little Pony brush. It is getting hotter and hotter outside, yet her hands are still shivering.

And today I was able to tell two people I don't know too well that I'm gay. My friend. woohoo. One of those people was this sweet girl in my class, a native of Trinidad. I was the second gay person she'd ever met. I smiled and said "I dunno. Expect the unexpected."

It's weird how much more comfortable and open I feel with people after they know about my stinkin sexuality. As much as I'd like to believe my sexual orientation should have nothing to do with that kinda stuff, it's like a breathe of fresh air, or like I'm blowin off steam or something when I let em in on my umm...secret? err.

boy "b": eh, not much. school school school. work work work. ha!

........ . . .