Kenji Murakami

I have now tasted dark chocolate coco; it's good for when you want something less sweet than normal coco, but I wasn't quite in the mood for it when I had it. I have plenty of normal-type coco, however, so life is good.

Mom and I went in person to get the I.D. We both prefer to do things in person whenever possible.

Jesus through the eyes of an Atheist: It's something to think about, at least. Personally, I think it's a more plausible interpretation.

This is my official Last Post Before Bed; Goodnight all, and I hope those of you in the Pacific, Mountain, Central, and any other timezone where it's night, have a good night sleep. I'll see you guys later.

Sitting in the helicopter with all the Hyper Zoanoids that had been assigned to protect him, Kenji wondered what was going to happen to all his stuff. He also wondered if there was something wrong with the Guyver who had been talking to him. Dad had always said that Guyvers were evil and couldn't be trusted, but that one had seemed almost nice. It was really weird.

Well, the I.D. debacle is over and done with, I'm happy to say. I'll have the card in about three to four weeks. I'll get it in the mail, so I don't even have to worry about going back to Santa Cruz to pick it up. I like that.

I tells yah, if hes be trying to eats me, I killings his ass real goods. Why am I talking like Skwisgaar?

I just say that the newest member of the forum calls themself EatKen3. That's kind of... creepy. Makes me glad my names' not Ken, though.

I'm currantly rewatching the last last eight episodes of the Guyver TV series. I like seeing Alkanphel kick ass.

Cool; I didn't quite feel confidant enough to bring it up in the 90s topic. Thanks, Durendal.

I love Galaxy Quest; it's one of my favorite movies. I can't quite remember if it came out in the nineties, though it did come out on video. Still, I love it and really enjoy watching it. I should really get to bed now, though...

Congratulations, Toku. I'm glad your project is going so smoothly.

I didn't know about the penalty. Still, it might not apply in my area. I'm in California, where are you from?

Looking from the Guyver standing in front of him to the splattered remains of his chocolate cake, Kenji glares at the Guyver responsible. "Hey!-" he manages to get out before Jose covers his mouth. Yanking down on the offending appendage, Kenji continues to shout. "You smashed my cake, you big jerk!" Mortified by the little Zoalord's apparent disregard for his own safety, Jose pulls him to his feet and hustles him out of the cafeteria. Pounding on the door controls, Jose locks the door behind them and turns to a pair of high-level Standard Zoanoids. "You two, sound the general alert, make sure the Zoalords know that we've got a Guyver in here," he orders. "I'm going to get the little guy out of here, and make sure he keeps out of trouble." "You don't think he'll be coming into my room, right?" Kenji asks. "I mean, a lot of my stuff is there, and I don't want it to get wrecked." "If he messes up any of your stuffed animals, I'll buy you new ones. Same with your books, kidlet," he says, trying to be reassuring while preoccupied by getting the youngest of Chronos' Zoalords to safety. "Right now, we just have to stay out of sight."

It's my first California identification - my passport's expired - so it's important for banking and other stuff of that nature. I don't drive, so I don't have to worry about tests or getting a liscence, but I do need I.D.

As he hears the approaching footsteps of the Hyper Zoanoid carrying his plate full of cake, Kenji turns to him with a large smile. "Thanks, Jose!" he calls, as the takes the offered fork and begins to have at the cake in earnest. "I'm glad you like it, kidlet," Jose grinned, reaching over to tousle the young Zoalord's hair. Kenji, his mouth already filled with cake, nods and makes a muffled happy noise.

I can definately attest to it being great to have something you've been putting your heart into posted in a public forum. Congratulations on the fruition of your hard work, Toku. There's really no feeling that can quite equal knowing that people like your work.

I have a tale of farce and woe: my continuing attemps to get an I.D. First, the closer DMV office was closed for renovation. Something it would have taken four words to say on the website, but somehow they didn't mention it. So, Mom and I had to take a trip all the way down to the other one, which wasn't even in the same city, and then when we get there, it turns out that they didn't take credit cards and neither of us had remembered to bring any cash. Then, when we get home, I end up finding out that I'm half an inch shorter than I thought I was. I certainly hope Thursday turns out less weird, we're going to be trying for that I.D. again.

What are unassisted dips? Outside of a vegitable or dancing context?

Finishing his salad, Kenji started to stand up and take his plate to be washed. Before he could even get out of his seat, one of the other Hyper Zoanoids took the plate, patted the boy-Zoalord's head, and headed over to deposit it with the other dirty dishes. "Thanks," Kenji said, smiling and waving as he sat back down. "No problem," the Hyper said, grinning. "You want I should pick you up some cake?" "Yeah. Thanks, Jose." Smiling back at the little Zoalord, Jose heads for the dessert counter in the cafeteria.

Well, she's here - and at the moment she's taking a walk with my mom - and so far it's been good. We had some salad together, she petted my sister's cat, and she seems like a generally laid-back and easy going person. She doesn't even seem to mind that I'm just in my PJs, so that's another point in her favor.

No, I've only heard mom talking about her. I don't know a bit of what she's like. Mom knows her from class, though, I think.

Biting down on his fork as he sensed more and more bad things starting to happen, Kenji looked down at the floor. "Can someone go down there and see what's going on?" he asks, tapping the side of his salad bowl with his fork. "It's starting to get really scary down there." "I'll go," Talvoss says, rising from his seat and pushing his food toward the center of the table. "Don't eat my burger." Leaving the table, Talvoss heads for the elevators.