Poo. And gun. And pooo.
The trials and tribulations of making a word search. I was tempted to hide words like 'bomb' and 'anthrax' in it, but I was good.
Argh. I have been working on this stupid project since one-thirty, and I'm still not done. The elementary school letter is done, and it actually looks pretty good. I winz. The high school one currently looks like crap. I loze.
I can't even look forward to an evening of fun tomorrow, because I have to write my stupid Speechcraft speech. They just have to dump it all on the second years, don't they? Rage against the college. I do take a bit of perverse pleasure in my prof being holed up in her tiny ugly office way at the top of the building (most people don't even know that floor exists, muahaha) and slaving away over all our projects. I laff in her face. Laff laff. I don't have to make sense.
No one is going to read this stupid newsletter anyway, why must I write it? I can't even fill it up with puzzles and clipart and terrible, terrible jokes ("What did the mommy ghoul say to the baby ghoul?" "Quit goblin all your food!"). It's not fair, I tells you. Tellz you, even. I can't even toss if off and say that I don't care, because I very much like all the people who are reviewing it. I'm handing it in to my student reviewer tomorrow, and she sent me the most adorable email saying how much she wanted to see it. Why, I don't know. She's insaaaaaaaaaaaane. But adorable. So I love her. Boo.
For all the mediocre clip art in the world, a surprising amount of it is downright terrifying. I found one of a fork with differently sized eyes and a really weird expression á la Weebl's Potatoes that really freaked Cherith out. Then she threatened to make me a mix cd entitled 'Sexual Healing' and make cover art involving a doctor and then I covered her mouth with my hand and killed her. I did an impression of her petting my purple hair for Mel and mum, and now they're really rather worried about her. Bwahaha.
I am all alone in the computer lab. You know what this means.
DANCE PARTY!
...
*shifty eyes*
Oh, leave me alone. <3
Argh. I have been working on this stupid project since one-thirty, and I'm still not done. The elementary school letter is done, and it actually looks pretty good. I winz. The high school one currently looks like crap. I loze.
I can't even look forward to an evening of fun tomorrow, because I have to write my stupid Speechcraft speech. They just have to dump it all on the second years, don't they? Rage against the college. I do take a bit of perverse pleasure in my prof being holed up in her tiny ugly office way at the top of the building (most people don't even know that floor exists, muahaha) and slaving away over all our projects. I laff in her face. Laff laff. I don't have to make sense.
No one is going to read this stupid newsletter anyway, why must I write it? I can't even fill it up with puzzles and clipart and terrible, terrible jokes ("What did the mommy ghoul say to the baby ghoul?" "Quit goblin all your food!"). It's not fair, I tells you. Tellz you, even. I can't even toss if off and say that I don't care, because I very much like all the people who are reviewing it. I'm handing it in to my student reviewer tomorrow, and she sent me the most adorable email saying how much she wanted to see it. Why, I don't know. She's insaaaaaaaaaaaane. But adorable. So I love her. Boo.
For all the mediocre clip art in the world, a surprising amount of it is downright terrifying. I found one of a fork with differently sized eyes and a really weird expression á la Weebl's Potatoes that really freaked Cherith out. Then she threatened to make me a mix cd entitled 'Sexual Healing' and make cover art involving a doctor and then I covered her mouth with my hand and killed her. I did an impression of her petting my purple hair for Mel and mum, and now they're really rather worried about her. Bwahaha.
I am all alone in the computer lab. You know what this means.
DANCE PARTY!
...
*shifty eyes*
Oh, leave me alone. <3