Yes, I am very easily amused
This evening I was attacked by something flying into my wrist. It was a ladybug that came out of hiding in this room. Now at the moment I have no idea where it is at, but I know it's around here somewhere. I thought I would try to pick it up and put it somewhere else. It wouldn't come near me at all, kept trying to scurry away as fast as it could. So I was talking to Fiona about it. It was amusing me, greatly. So I tried to take some pictures of it with a digital camera. I think I ended up blinding it, because it sat on the table like a popcorn kernel that went un-popped in the bottom of the bag. Given a few moments, it burst back to life and I tried to capture it on digital media again. Instead it ended up falling to the floor and went missing for a bit.
When my little friend showed itself again, I was in the middle of talking to Fiona and Johnny (I added for you good measure, simply because your name looks good in my journal), who were enraptured in Round 445,135,451 of yet another argument that I somehow ended up in (What am I saying? I enjoy being the mediator in it.), the ladybug had since moved to the wall and was crawling around all fine. It was when it went to the corner that I thought I had somehow killed it. Johnny called me a killer, and trying to convince him otherwise is NOT the easiest of jobs. Granted he took it back and the ladybug is still alive. Granted it's missing again.
I think I shall call this ladybug, Possum, because of how many times it has played dead. This post leaves me with a few of thoughts… I believe that ladybugs sleep. They do NOT bite. *laughs* They fly like they've had a bit too much to drink. To end my thoughts, this particular one was not very photogenic.
Now that I've written this insanely off the wall post, I feel as if I should be evaluated to see exactly how sane I really am.
Sleep calls...
Disclaimer
When my little friend showed itself again, I was in the middle of talking to Fiona and Johnny (I added for you good measure, simply because your name looks good in my journal), who were enraptured in Round 445,135,451 of yet another argument that I somehow ended up in (What am I saying? I enjoy being the mediator in it.), the ladybug had since moved to the wall and was crawling around all fine. It was when it went to the corner that I thought I had somehow killed it. Johnny called me a killer, and trying to convince him otherwise is NOT the easiest of jobs. Granted he took it back and the ladybug is still alive. Granted it's missing again.
I think I shall call this ladybug, Possum, because of how many times it has played dead. This post leaves me with a few of thoughts… I believe that ladybugs sleep. They do NOT bite. *laughs* They fly like they've had a bit too much to drink. To end my thoughts, this particular one was not very photogenic.
Now that I've written this insanely off the wall post, I feel as if I should be evaluated to see exactly how sane I really am.
Sleep calls...
Disclaimer