Question: on a scale of one to oh-my-god, how bad is it that I've taken advice about my love life from an episode of 'Frasier'?

Yesterday I went to the students union (despite not being either a student or part of any union[1]) to get some lunch and there was a vegetarian convention on in one of the conference rooms. They were playing really awful "world" music to try to lore people in to join the fandango[2]. I didn't realise "appreciation" of such "world" "music" was a pre-requisite for being “veggie”. I feel the sudden need to eat a whole cow, perhaps even an entire herd[3]. The vegematarians amongst us are obviously really letting the side down: I haven’t checked too closely but I strongly suspect there is not one panpipe CD between them.[4]

[1] This is actually a lie. I am a part-time student because I go to night school and am member of the students’ union for all the discounts and freebies that it brings. I just lied to distance myself from godawful students that usually frequent such places. I’m not one of them. I hated them even when I was one.
[2] Upon entering the hippy world that is currently ‘Conference Room B’, I presume you would be strip searched (including your stomach lining and lower intestinal tract) to check you didn't have any meat or meat products on you. They wouldn’t just let you join the fandango willy-nilly you know. There are RULES.
[3] But only if I could be sure I was taking out whole families and friendship networks to ensure that there was no one less to mourn the loss.[6]
[4] and if there is I’m doing to open a can of beans, pork sausages and whup-ass on the owner of said CD ASAP.
[5] there is no number 5. It is just an illusion.[7]
[6] I’m paraphrasing edward’s philosophy towards prawns here and maybe mocking it just *slightly*
[7] and it is an illusion that ensures that the footnotes to this diary entry are double the length of the entry itself. It’s madness I tell you, sheer meat-free madness.

Oh God, I think I'm turning into my mother.

Actually, I think I'm turning into your mother, which is slightly worrying since you've just been staring at my breasts, you sick mother-boob-staring-at pre-vert.

Now tidy your room.

Humans really are so predictably similar and moronic that it's hard to tell if I can be bothered with them any more.

I should plan to kill them all quite soon.

On a lighter note, whilst writing this entry (approx 1 minute):

[1] Of course, there is no way of accurately knowing how many people are dying and going to hell. Only God knows for certain. This numbebr is based on the world’s population, mortality rate and an estimated number of true believers*

* This is an actual quote. I tell only the glorious truth that is our Lord. See http://www.biblehelp.org/signal.htm

I love autumn

Leaves on trees turn gold and brown
And fall and fade away

Warm sun gives way
To cold and wind and rain

That blows around my knees
And finds my fingers cold and flayed

Pretty girls with cheeks that glow
Pressed hard against the winters cold

In my snowy footsteps she did lead
Full is her mouth with my salty seed

Now I know I started it but really, I think it is time that all this talk of nakedness should stop. I want to be able to read these things without feeling the need to rinse out my mind's eye with bleach just to make the mental images go away. (That's more difficult than you might think, btw, rinsing out your mind's eye with anything. Or sticking a Tangfastic Haribo in it. It needs both practise and perseverance. And stupidity. Yes, perhaps a little stupidity.)

ANYWAY, so no more talk of nudeyness.

*looks around Peter Griffin styleee* Boobies.