Bloody weather
One never really appreciates 20 degree weather until one suffers through 40 below. So cold... *shiver* That evil air mass will be moving in tonight, doesn't that sound fun when changing classes outside all day? I really detest this place sometimes.
Can't say that the finals have been all bad as of yet, it's just tomorrow I'm worried about. Math always has been evil and with a pending 50 point essay in English... oy ve. Makes me wonder why people bother to be smart, it's really not worth it in the long run. I'd much rather dedicate my life to writing strange, psychedelic (fan)fiction. Possibly special effects/director/producer/etc. in movies. That sounds fun.
Anybody ever have strange chats with people and you don't know where they came from? Good stuff too, usually. There is so much randomness in my world. Not to mention the lack of capital letters and punctuation.
barbossa: I feel...
*5 minutes later*
...
jack: *blinkblink*
will: jack, you poke him
jack: no, you poke him
will: you
jack: okay. *poke*
barbossa: ...
jack: shoves him
barbossa: ...
will: *stabs him*
barbossa: ...
elizabeth: i think he's dead
jack: no, he's still standing.
will: wanna go get a burger and come back later?
jack + elizabeth: sure, why not?
*they do*
barbossa: ...
jack: you okay mate?
barbossa: what's that word i'm thinking of?
will: confused?
elizabeth: pretty?
jack: savvy?
barbossa: no...
will: is it an animal?
barbossa: *shakes head*
elizabeth: a mineral?
barbossa: nope
jack: um... rum?
barbossa: no, sorry jack.
elizabeth: an emotion?
barbossa: not really...
will: but it's abstract, right?
barbossa: yeah
jack:... feeling?
barbossa: yeah!
will: confused?
elizabeth: pretty?
jack: cold?
barbossa: THAT'S IT! I feel... cold... *falls over and dies*
jack: i need a drink
will: amen to that *him and elizabeth skip off into the sunset*
jack: *twitch* *idea strikes*
barbossa: *dead*
jack: i want that apple mate
barbossa: ...
jack: give it
barbossa: ...
jack: *starts wrestling with barbossa's dead, frozen fingers for his apple*
barbossa: mine.
jack: you're dead mate, you can't talk
barbossa: oh. sorry.
jack: *wrenches fingers open and steals apple*
barbossa: ow! that hurts!
jack: shut up. and i'm stealing this crown too.
barbossa: fine! *sulk*
jack: *runs out of cave as it starts to collapse indiana jones style*
Strange no? No? Wow.
Can't say that the finals have been all bad as of yet, it's just tomorrow I'm worried about. Math always has been evil and with a pending 50 point essay in English... oy ve. Makes me wonder why people bother to be smart, it's really not worth it in the long run. I'd much rather dedicate my life to writing strange, psychedelic (fan)fiction. Possibly special effects/director/producer/etc. in movies. That sounds fun.
Anybody ever have strange chats with people and you don't know where they came from? Good stuff too, usually. There is so much randomness in my world. Not to mention the lack of capital letters and punctuation.
barbossa: I feel...
*5 minutes later*
...
jack: *blinkblink*
will: jack, you poke him
jack: no, you poke him
will: you
jack: okay. *poke*
barbossa: ...
jack: shoves him
barbossa: ...
will: *stabs him*
barbossa: ...
elizabeth: i think he's dead
jack: no, he's still standing.
will: wanna go get a burger and come back later?
jack + elizabeth: sure, why not?
*they do*
barbossa: ...
jack: you okay mate?
barbossa: what's that word i'm thinking of?
will: confused?
elizabeth: pretty?
jack: savvy?
barbossa: no...
will: is it an animal?
barbossa: *shakes head*
elizabeth: a mineral?
barbossa: nope
jack: um... rum?
barbossa: no, sorry jack.
elizabeth: an emotion?
barbossa: not really...
will: but it's abstract, right?
barbossa: yeah
jack:... feeling?
barbossa: yeah!
will: confused?
elizabeth: pretty?
jack: cold?
barbossa: THAT'S IT! I feel... cold... *falls over and dies*
jack: i need a drink
will: amen to that *him and elizabeth skip off into the sunset*
jack: *twitch* *idea strikes*
barbossa: *dead*
jack: i want that apple mate
barbossa: ...
jack: give it
barbossa: ...
jack: *starts wrestling with barbossa's dead, frozen fingers for his apple*
barbossa: mine.
jack: you're dead mate, you can't talk
barbossa: oh. sorry.
jack: *wrenches fingers open and steals apple*
barbossa: ow! that hurts!
jack: shut up. and i'm stealing this crown too.
barbossa: fine! *sulk*
jack: *runs out of cave as it starts to collapse indiana jones style*
Strange no? No? Wow.