A small excerpt from my current read
This book reads like a soap opera
Fraktur calligraphed #excerpt from Agent Jack: the true story of MI5's secret Nazi hunter
Man. Couldn't unglue myself from the senate review board for the rumor that some defunding of law enforcement departments may indeed become some sort of precursor to the end of the world. Finally, when they all adjourned for the day, I got some reading done. But I was dozing off after every other sentence. Suddenly, as I made it to the next page something caught my interest. I figured I would take a note so I can at least memorize who some of the characters in this book are, if that's at all relevant to the reason I decided to read this historic interpretation by Robert Hutton. I really thought I would enjoy it so much, there'd be no way I would nod off from time to time. I really have mixed feelings about caffein it up in the gut for this book. I only wanted to find some relevancy to the plot thickening process for a conspiracy of Nazi/Hitler youth hunters; as if such a thing exists. But you see, I'm trying to gather enough data so that #tmtwngm has conviction and truth. (i.e. I doubt a movie by Spielberg will ever effectively contain popular metal)
I don't wanna give too much away. So can we leave it at that for now? I'm concerned about summer this year.
Today's topic changer is: Describe your most vogue fear. Sometimes I fear that a flash mob of all my former 'public school' friends, even the ones I never stopped hating for their stupid antics back then, would appear out of the blue and start singing a song with the line this is your life. Then, my emotions for the bullies, the ex's, the nerds, even old teachers (if they're still alive) would contradict every other emotion I have for the slew of piers and I'd have an aneurism right there. Or worse, I'd become a gimp for the rest of my life and it all would've happened to all those folk whom normally one tries to impress.
This book reads like a soap opera
Fraktur calligraphed excerpt from Agent Jack: the true story of MI5's secret Nazi hunterI've been putting off a trip to Costco because I imagine that if a flash mob ever needed a venue to meet with one another before the show starts, and I never wanted to become a gimp in a place like Costco, but all the wide aisle and high ceilings, it wouldn't be hard to arrange display cases affixed with rollers so they can be moved out of the way in a snap.
I heard about a dive-bomber
What's a dive-bomber? No wonder I keep dozing off reading the same paragraph over and over again. It's the monophthongs combined with an idiom like 'dive bar' that has me listening to myself pronounce each word in my head and try to make sense of what I'm reading; asking myself, did I just read 'dive-bar' or 'dive-bomb'? and if the latter, what the hell is a dive-bomb? Before I even try to google the term, I'm going to note this section because if a dive-bomb is anything like a dive-bar, maybe the story is gonna pick up. But then Robert has to mention the secret code name Mosquito. Lime disease, zika, all these transmittable diseases come to mind and I stop to think whether the Black-eyed Susans I planted this Spring will really attract mosquito eating dragonflies. Dragonflies.
What a cool insect to have flittering about in the garden. If they're anything like horseflies, the place will look colorful. I dunno whether horseflies also like to eat mosquitoes but wouldn't it be cool to catch a horsefly and keep it like a pet the way some people keep tarantula spiders, scorpions, etc.