duzen 'nen Gott.
I am slightly alarmed that this Halloween themed LJ header appears to feature a stripper.
This coming from somebody who became excited that the officially sanctioned (and utterly garbage textbook) for class mentions scutum, and you know what else that means. Well, I'll tell you what I'll tell my students: Look it up. Too bad this book will never mention scortum.
I am my fathers' distillate, to be sure. (And the official sommelier.) In the words of the most recently (yesterday!) acquired of these (not sommeliers), "Your family tree is fucked up." In the words of a brother: "You can do nothing to our family honour that I haven't already done. I lowered [father]'s bar considerably."
We'll see. I am in a strange mood. I just suffered through Harry Potter (and the most obnoxious stranger ever), which was mostly dark and more dark, and faint outlines, and gibberish.
Thursday (tomorrow!), at 8.15-8.30am, in the parking lot of a nearby church, begins the first in hopefully a long future tradition of joyous family roadtrips. Thereon:
K: I think that I will bake muffins for the road.
M: Don't! You'll distract him and crash!
K: Or, maybe I won't.
The urge to comply has overrun basic life-needs like Halloween and awareness of my paternal gran's funeral. I am a typo. Everyone says no big deal.
But life is a carousel of carousals ties.
This coming from somebody who became excited that the officially sanctioned (and utterly garbage textbook) for class mentions scutum, and you know what else that means. Well, I'll tell you what I'll tell my students: Look it up. Too bad this book will never mention scortum.
I am my fathers' distillate, to be sure. (And the official sommelier.) In the words of the most recently (yesterday!) acquired of these (not sommeliers), "Your family tree is fucked up." In the words of a brother: "You can do nothing to our family honour that I haven't already done. I lowered [father]'s bar considerably."
We'll see. I am in a strange mood. I just suffered through Harry Potter (and the most obnoxious stranger ever), which was mostly dark and more dark, and faint outlines, and gibberish.
Thursday (tomorrow!), at 8.15-8.30am, in the parking lot of a nearby church, begins the first in hopefully a long future tradition of joyous family roadtrips. Thereon:
K: I think that I will bake muffins for the road.
M: Don't! You'll distract him and crash!
K: Or, maybe I won't.
The urge to comply has overrun basic life-needs like Halloween and awareness of my paternal gran's funeral. I am a typo. Everyone says no big deal.
But life is a carousel of carousals ties.