The Giant Pink Mutant Baby is Dead!

It has only taken me 13 years to beat the 2nd(!) last boss of Playstation game, Parasite Eve 2. Though in fairness to myself, for the majority of those 13 years I had discontinued playing PE2 (or any video games) in the belief that I would never be able to kill the hideous pink baby. But a restless spirit and a desire to kill fictional mutant babies have led me to triumph. Persistence, incredible skill, and advice from the internet, have paved the way for my glorious victory.
(Gameplay hint: When the creature's core opens keep shooting at the core with grenades, and keep maxing out Aya's health - blasts from the core are deadly).

I have documented my greatness below-

Giant pink mutant baby at beginning of battle:

The battle has been bravely fought and won. Victory (and Ringer's Solution) is mine:

Giant pink mutant baby is toast. Or, more correctly, it's a puddle (the white-pink area at bottom right of screen is what remains of the baby):

Now I just have to kill the super final boss, Parasite Eve... gah!...see you in another 13 years...

The Owl and the Pussycat

Owl whispers secrets into Willow's ear:

Willow takes those secrets into her slumber, as Owl keeps watch:

Caught in a Dream Weaver Loop

The recurring dream-mares (they're more disconcerting dreams than actual nightmares) always place me in an educational institution, either secondary school or university. Mostly the dreams occur at university, where I seem to be doing a Science degree, even though I already have a Science degree - both in the logic of the dream and in real life. Sometimes I show up to lectures, sometimes I don't. Rarely do I do any study or homework. Practical experience - laboratory, field work - isn't required. Occasionally I attend a lecture that isn't part of my syllabus. In one particularly frustrating variation of the dream-mare, I adamantly refuse to attend any mathematics lectures/tutorials, but I do take the final exam which - surprise, surprise - I completely fail. My most recent educational dream-mare incarnation placed me in a lecture in which I not only had a notebook with no blank pages left (making it very hard to take lecture notes) BUT the lecture made no sense. It was all words, words, blah, blah, incoherency, more words, something cryptic, blah. Blah.

That Dream Weaver is one sick, sad, sadistic weaver.