Excerpt From a NY Times Article
"Crowds lined Pennsylvania Avenue as the pope left, craning to get a glimpse of him as he rode in his Popemobile to the papal residence near the vice president's residence."
I just have to say it again: "IN HIS POPEMOBILE"
lololololololol
So, was the reporter mocking the Pope, or is that just what his ride is officially referred to as?
Tonight was awesome! Mock trial banquet at Vespa (classy Italian place) followed by a dance party in a vip room! Now I'm poet-tizing for class tomorrow. I'm going to fall asleep tonight either content or frustrated as hell, depending on how the poem works out and how much I have to change as a result of my prof's ever-oppressive meter regulations. But, I can't really knock the stuff he imposes so much, as it's revolutionized my take on poetry, prose, and the cyclical patterns in the development of each. I don't really feel like going into literary theory right now, as I have too much hw.
I can't wait for summer. I'm going to spend the first week of it holed up in my room reading all the shiznit I desperately want to read but never have time to. I wonder what I'm going to be like at this time next year. I'm a perpetual re-reader of old journal entries, sort of like a map reader that wants to mark little x's on all the points of deviation; I know I'll be looking back on this at some point. All I can say for myself tonight is that I'm happy, and that my feet hurt from dancing in very attractive shoes.
Goodnight!
I just have to say it again: "IN HIS POPEMOBILE"
lololololololol
So, was the reporter mocking the Pope, or is that just what his ride is officially referred to as?
Tonight was awesome! Mock trial banquet at Vespa (classy Italian place) followed by a dance party in a vip room! Now I'm poet-tizing for class tomorrow. I'm going to fall asleep tonight either content or frustrated as hell, depending on how the poem works out and how much I have to change as a result of my prof's ever-oppressive meter regulations. But, I can't really knock the stuff he imposes so much, as it's revolutionized my take on poetry, prose, and the cyclical patterns in the development of each. I don't really feel like going into literary theory right now, as I have too much hw.
I can't wait for summer. I'm going to spend the first week of it holed up in my room reading all the shiznit I desperately want to read but never have time to. I wonder what I'm going to be like at this time next year. I'm a perpetual re-reader of old journal entries, sort of like a map reader that wants to mark little x's on all the points of deviation; I know I'll be looking back on this at some point. All I can say for myself tonight is that I'm happy, and that my feet hurt from dancing in very attractive shoes.
Goodnight!