Catour De Jour
Well Yummies, (new term for the so-last-summer word "people,) I'm in second period right now. Bloggin' it up. deyr-druh's not wasn't in Chem, so I got sad and just pretended to somehow know what I missed yesterday. And that last sentence did infact make sense. You umm, must've read it wrong.
Which brings us to the subject of being sick yesterday. Um, I woke up to take a shower, and then started coughing a lot, except each cough tasted like puke. Or puki. Whichever one. Maybe pocky. It started with a p though, that's for sure.
Oh! The domain is up, 100%. Except I have to copy over all the old pages. -_-. Anyways, paintedpolitics.com is cool, so come on over and visit.
Anyways, speaking of pp, Larry of The Cruise In will be calling us back soon for a date of the first December show. Second one is definitely the 21st, at Exposure. Dirty name, dirty venue. Actually I don't know. Apparently it's knew, but the specs sound really, really good. Good enough for CAPS LOCK!
OH EM GEE, Sean just tapped me on the shoulder and sat down next to me. I peed my pants. Now he's on the computer and we're impersonating Tuzz.
This entry is going nowhere fast.
Oh, uh, the e.p.s are basically done. We just have to print them all. The final most definitely totally tubular track list is as follows.
Track 01 | Eat Brains
Track 02 | Big Brother (Down With It)
Track 03 | Fuhrer Bush
Track 04 | Skins Anthem
Track 05 | Coup D'Etat
Track 06 | Punx For Peace
Track 07 | Johnny Anderson
Yes, that's right kiddies, a seven song e.p. Enjoy.
Um, Vic's back from Houston. If she didn't bring me back a mega-huge mega-totally-tubular-hyphen souvenir, I'll be sad. Maybe it'll be a teddy bear. Or maybe she didn't get me anything. Either way.
Lastly, I have to present a poem in French today that I didn't yesterday since I wasn't here. So to test if I have it memorized or not, I'll type it right now for all of you. The huge audience that weights, gribbing the edge of their seats with their buttocks.
L'automne (Victor Hugo)
L'aube est moins claire. L'air moins chaud. Le ciel moins pur.
Les longs jours sont passe, les mois charmands finissent.
Helas, voici deja les arbres qui jaunissent.
L'automne est triste avec sa bise, et son brouillard.
Et l'ete qui s'enfuit, et un ami qui part.
Um, lyrically that sounds out of rythmn. Maybe I messed it up.
Either way I miss deyr-druh.
Which brings us to the subject of being sick yesterday. Um, I woke up to take a shower, and then started coughing a lot, except each cough tasted like puke. Or puki. Whichever one. Maybe pocky. It started with a p though, that's for sure.
Oh! The domain is up, 100%. Except I have to copy over all the old pages. -_-. Anyways, paintedpolitics.com is cool, so come on over and visit.
Anyways, speaking of pp, Larry of The Cruise In will be calling us back soon for a date of the first December show. Second one is definitely the 21st, at Exposure. Dirty name, dirty venue. Actually I don't know. Apparently it's knew, but the specs sound really, really good. Good enough for CAPS LOCK!
OH EM GEE, Sean just tapped me on the shoulder and sat down next to me. I peed my pants. Now he's on the computer and we're impersonating Tuzz.
This entry is going nowhere fast.
Oh, uh, the e.p.s are basically done. We just have to print them all. The final most definitely totally tubular track list is as follows.
Track 01 | Eat Brains
Track 02 | Big Brother (Down With It)
Track 03 | Fuhrer Bush
Track 04 | Skins Anthem
Track 05 | Coup D'Etat
Track 06 | Punx For Peace
Track 07 | Johnny Anderson
Yes, that's right kiddies, a seven song e.p. Enjoy.
Um, Vic's back from Houston. If she didn't bring me back a mega-huge mega-totally-tubular-hyphen souvenir, I'll be sad. Maybe it'll be a teddy bear. Or maybe she didn't get me anything. Either way.
Lastly, I have to present a poem in French today that I didn't yesterday since I wasn't here. So to test if I have it memorized or not, I'll type it right now for all of you. The huge audience that weights, gribbing the edge of their seats with their buttocks.
L'automne (Victor Hugo)
L'aube est moins claire. L'air moins chaud. Le ciel moins pur.
Les longs jours sont passe, les mois charmands finissent.
Helas, voici deja les arbres qui jaunissent.
L'automne est triste avec sa bise, et son brouillard.
Et l'ete qui s'enfuit, et un ami qui part.
Um, lyrically that sounds out of rythmn. Maybe I messed it up.
Either way I miss deyr-druh.