currently a bit cross with my dad who wouldn't go to my room to see if robert dudley the brown bear is doing well. he's as bad as von, honestly. oh and to have one of your best friends first gloat about thesis and then complain you put a post-thesis haircut curse on her is a bit much. *meaningful look* i am going in search for lightbulbs. i am going blind in here. maybe i'll jog by the english dept on the way back to see if bob's left me kenneth burke in his mailbox. if he does i'll read it and if he doesn't i shall take it as a sign. good. and now i seek food. lots thereof. starving.
so obviously, it isn't my fault that i get sucked into a discussion with su-lin about the cult of the potato (in the truth), and famines and russian peasants and storytelling and trousers of time and talking rats. *reproachfully* and then the woman's accusing me of tempering with narrative continuity because i don't have a groupblog or some kind of feedback mechanism on my webpage and i smirk and say that is precisely the point otherwise everyone will be rebutting all the time and then how can i deliberately misunderstand them? but considering she only started thinking about the copy of the truth lurking in her room because i told her i was learning from william de worde, i brought it upon myself.