That's still not good, @Ludmila Schneeflocke.

I am more worried that they'll lace drinks with Mean Jugs. Mind you, this 'Larry' guy from the Cygnus extraterrestrial lab is currently developing a stronger kind of Mean Jug. There is no stopping that madman, really. Well, careful, folks.

My roommate just brought in yet another not-so-delightful creature; it is a talking sponge he purchased from some exogenetic backyard bargain. The sponge is incredibly foul-mouthed and it cannot stop talking about the Lunarite formula. If this chattersponge won't shut up within the next few hours, I'll be soaking it in a bucket of antiwater.

So many absences recorded today in my Rigellian Mechanics class. Only Hank Strangeform and Tina Thaumaturge attended class today, including me. I think everybody's starting to hate Rigellian Mechanics.

And someone's pet spiral - the spiralis barbatus - went on a rampage; nobody knows its whereabouts. Dude, that thing's a hemovore!

Does anyone know about Matilda Magistra? She's a witch who enrolled in the Kepler-X Academic Society. I don't know much about her, but she's an interesting fellow. Something about the way she talks gets me thinking. She's a peculiar one, let me tell you. Her mother's also a Psychic High School alumni, and I heard her mother's got quite a queer reputation too. I don't know much about Matilda; I've only interacted with her maybe once. She's also apparently the Genius Wizard Society acclaimed witch of the district. Nobody really knows her since she's got a protective veil over her psyche. Hell, even the telepaths don't know much about her. You just see her roaming by the halls every now and then. Heard she's part of Covener's class.

I just got a diabolically low score on my Intergalactic Languages test. I know I've got the reputation of being the class laze, but I think I did well in my Intergalactic Languages class, so why'd I have low marks on my test now? There were no written remarks included; the professor just crossed out my answers and he didn't leave no nothing... How am I supposed to know what I got wrong? It's tearing my luck to apply for an Orion scholarship. I'll be whipped at home the moment my parents know about this! Who else has the Grammatica Linguarum Intergalacticarum textbook? I lost mine, but that wasn't an excuse to get low marks on the test - I swear I studied anyways! I think I'd also need the Linguae Obscurae Extraterrestrium textbook too. Anyone?

I noticed the sudden influx of new spirits by the eastern corridors, why's that? They seem to be guarding the rooms. Are the witches brewing up some malicious stunt again that they don't want us to know about? Next thing you know, there'll be a stampede of bipedal glorby ziggies running down the hall; those things can't be domesticated, it's a horrible mess. My roommate had his ziggy urinate on the carpet. The smell was so foul, I couldn't believe it. We couldn't wash it off for days. I told him he'd better get rid of that ziggy or I'll have to pour him some Mean Jug.

I also built a little microphone for my snobby old battleaxe of a music teacher. I told her it was a birthday gift. Oh, the laughter of the whole class when she tried to use it! It's supposed to look just like any other microphone, but instead of just amplifying your voice, it actually dictates all your current thoughts in over a hundred decibels. I gave it to her just right before the lecture. "Thank you, David. I'll be using it this lecture..."

She turned the microphone on.

"What is this? I don't like this. That witty little David and his gimmicks..." the microphone amplified.

She became visibly flushed and embarrassed. Not knowing where the sound even came from, she barely opened her mouth!

"What the heck is going on?! Who's speaking? What the-" the microphone amplified again.

She tried turning it off, but her efforts just sent the whole class to laughter.

And then she got fed up. She screamed on top of her lungs: "David!"

It was so loud that it produced visible sound waves that shook us all, making our heads elongated by a metre for about an hour and a half. All of us looked at her in awe. Her fingers grew by several inches, her eyes protruded way out and doubled in size. She also turned hot purple. Everybody laughed again, and that was it, she left the room. I got a little citation after that. Her robotic clone had to substitute for her.

Man, when's fair day coming in again? My buddy and I were planning to make a little booth for the folks. We call it the Terror Hall. It's essentially just a portal that'll teleport you to the 'Terror Realm'. How does it work? Well, once you step in the portal, the portal frame actually emits a sub-spectral ray that collects your psychic data. Where does the psychic data go to? We've built a little box that functions as a hidden mental-astral space. The psychic data will be imported there. So, what's it going to be like in the Terror Realm? It's like stepping into your nightmares, but everything is tangible and corporeal! Do you fear the extraterrestrial rats? Well, guess what, you'll be met with a swarm of extraterrestrial rats chasing you down in the Terror Realm. Don't worry, there's also a portal out.

In short, it's just a portal to your nightmares. Except, it's all kind of real. Not really, it's kind of more virtual. I think it'd make for a good little horror booth, eh? Or was the whole idea too far? Either way, it'd be fun to get some scares out of folks.

Do you guys remember when some kid, whose name I don't even remember, laced some folks' NeuroJuice with a shimmery golden substance some time ago? Me neither. Apparently that shimmery golden substance was a hyper...what now, I'm too dumb for those words. It apparently works as some sort of hallucinogenic ultra-depressant. Man, how does that even work? I heard a certain 'Larry' from the Cygnus extraterrestrial lab mixed in random Martian saps until he made a concoction that he called the 'Mean Jug' - the shimmery golden substance. When consumed, it takes about only 20 minutes for the effects to kick in. At first, you'll experience severe cosmic hallucinations reminiscent of a non-Euclidean geometric psychedelia. I don't know, I've never tried a Mean Jug, and I doubt I'll ever wanna try it. After the psychedelia, you'll enter a really bad catatonic state for a minimum of maybe two earth years. My good buddy told me that the vials of the Mean Jug were caught by the wrong hands, and so a group of kids started lacing fellow schoolmates' drinks. They targeted the new fellows. What a weird one. Where are they now?