(no subject)
I have not slept in till noon in almost a year. And now I remember why; there seem to be more important things than sleeping. However, two consecutive 3am nights constitutes the attention of my subconscious.
Also. Either I am a blithering idiot or overly ambitious, but I have so much homework I want to pass out. Oh ho, and you say "it's ok kristen, its almost break, do not cry," and i say "ok, thanks, i only have a term to make up over break WEEEEEEEEE." although I am rather giddy about learning greek. thats right, giddy.
on other notes. my love for the realm of fiction has been renewed. all sorts, i even found myself looking at boris valejo art, which for the most part isn't really my cup of tea. but its ok. i can't pass up stuff like this http://www.middlearth.it/borisvalejo/4%20copia.gif
aHAH, and i might get to go work on a ranch or a roofing crew next summer. not in a cannery. now that makes me happy..xxx..xx..x. OH, and that reminds me. on thanksgiving at 1am, this ambulance/oversized-van-o-death was driving up and down the street with a loudspeaker garbling some bullshit at full volume and it scared the shit out of me and clayton.
in about two seconds I drew the conclusion that it MUST be telling me to stay indoors and that the city was under chemical/biological/biochemical siege, so i started freaking out and deducing which car in the alley would be easiest to steal so i could drive like the madd hatter to action surplus and stock up on grenades, gas masks, bfgs, grenade launchers, flame throwers, etc. and id probably rip off the tank driver boots, jungle hammock, and mosquito netting just for the hell of it. too bad they don't have helicopters.
then I would come back here to the good ol' McKenzie Study Center where it would be lockdown time. The five of us who are actually home would barricade, sandbag, booby trap, and lace every exit and entrance with black cats. thats four levels of hell plus a skybridge and some rabid chimpanzee infested sewer networks to traverse before the enemy gynoids could get to us. and then I would sit back in the loft and watch Rushmore as a haze of ebola or anthrax settled into every pore of the earth and robots ravished the land. and i would probably die anyway, me and clayton and chase with our shotguns in the loft, faces painted blue in memory of the scottish. it would be beautiful and honorable and valient as many would say dying is. but hell, you're still dead and so is everyone else so I just don't know if it would matter in this instance.
Also. Either I am a blithering idiot or overly ambitious, but I have so much homework I want to pass out. Oh ho, and you say "it's ok kristen, its almost break, do not cry," and i say "ok, thanks, i only have a term to make up over break WEEEEEEEEE." although I am rather giddy about learning greek. thats right, giddy.
on other notes. my love for the realm of fiction has been renewed. all sorts, i even found myself looking at boris valejo art, which for the most part isn't really my cup of tea. but its ok. i can't pass up stuff like this http://www.middlearth.it/borisvalejo/4%20copia.gif
aHAH, and i might get to go work on a ranch or a roofing crew next summer. not in a cannery. now that makes me happy..xxx..xx..x. OH, and that reminds me. on thanksgiving at 1am, this ambulance/oversized-van-o-death was driving up and down the street with a loudspeaker garbling some bullshit at full volume and it scared the shit out of me and clayton.
in about two seconds I drew the conclusion that it MUST be telling me to stay indoors and that the city was under chemical/biological/biochemical siege, so i started freaking out and deducing which car in the alley would be easiest to steal so i could drive like the madd hatter to action surplus and stock up on grenades, gas masks, bfgs, grenade launchers, flame throwers, etc. and id probably rip off the tank driver boots, jungle hammock, and mosquito netting just for the hell of it. too bad they don't have helicopters.
then I would come back here to the good ol' McKenzie Study Center where it would be lockdown time. The five of us who are actually home would barricade, sandbag, booby trap, and lace every exit and entrance with black cats. thats four levels of hell plus a skybridge and some rabid chimpanzee infested sewer networks to traverse before the enemy gynoids could get to us. and then I would sit back in the loft and watch Rushmore as a haze of ebola or anthrax settled into every pore of the earth and robots ravished the land. and i would probably die anyway, me and clayton and chase with our shotguns in the loft, faces painted blue in memory of the scottish. it would be beautiful and honorable and valient as many would say dying is. but hell, you're still dead and so is everyone else so I just don't know if it would matter in this instance.