Boats and Birds

Goodness.

Another two days,

Blogless.

It isn't as liberating and romanticized as one would expect.

But I can't say much has been 'going down'.

(To use pop culture to my advantage)

Speaking of such,

pop culture.

The modern kind, it's awfully disgusting.

I mean, at the AMA's, A certain "Justin Bieber" won Artist of the Year

Now please, do tell me,

Who decides this crap?

I do not approve.

But, in more important news,

(Not really, but you should now this by now)

Causing "colloquial brouhahas" with Marie can now be added to my list of "interests",

"Colloquial Brouhahas."

I do love the phrase.

And so.

I've been given several high-pressuring items as of late.

Two of which were those very fake-ish college letter things.

There's been an influx of the pre-scripted papers since I took the PSAT.

Ones from Hanover, Xavier, Ball State, Indiana Wesylan.

Oh how silly.

They worry me so very much.

And also, another sheet of writing contests.

And while it's thrilling,

It's also strange.

And then I have the "Dramatic monologues" sheet.

And my first reaction to such was "Shit. How do you write these?"

Although, I didn't say that.

I felt that would be a bad idea.

So I'm a mite-bit overwhelmed with this prospect of dramatic monologues and surrealist poetry

And E.E Cummings and his very ingenious, yet so terribly horrible to read poems.

In dialects.

Without explanation.

And then, you read them aloud, and you can almost piece together meanings.

(Along with the help of Google)

It's like a game of "Mad Gab".

Only... with poetry.

Crazy, right?

You betcha.

Oh, and Thanksgiving Break.

It's here, in such overbearing glory!

And yet, it feels like Christmas already.

For Cripe's sake,

Holidays need little dividers.

I think "Putting up Christmas lights before Black Friday is punishable by death"

Would work nicely.

And for you Chrismtas-ophiles out there.

I kind of despise you.

A little bit.

So really.

It's going to be five days of intense "Uncle Tom's Cabin", baking and cooking, and poetry.

Lots of poetry.

And food.

Thanksgiving = Parades + Food.

Good stuff, right?

Damn straight.

Nothing really pertinent in this post.

There never is, is there?

Ahh, you know how it goes.

"C'est la vie"

(Hope I spelled that right, I'm not French ((Latin in perpetuum!))

Adieu, adieu!!