Week 6 of Clarion:
“You disappointed me, I thought she was going to be naked under the butterflies!”
Mark: “Don’t point at people!”
Jim B: “The point of the game is to point!”
Josh: “Jim has a point.”
“Be quiet or we’ll test you next.”
-Todd (to Brooke’s Ben.)
(insightful analysis) …I want to lick your brain.
Parenthetically, if I told my friends I wasn’t the first to write a story with twenty four foxes in it, they’d never believe me.
I am so slack~jawed with wonder an entire grizzly bear could just climb in there.
“My hovercraft is full of eels!”
“I gave it nine fucks out of ten, pretty much.”
“Get these motherfucking faeries off this motherfucking plane.”
It’s a bit like being in a sensory deprivation tank with Oscar Wilde, really.
I mean, let’s really get this unicorn horn on the table.
How about this: a new genre, right? Swords and Suburbia.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS SCENE, THAT IT DRIVES ME TO THIS?
Well, aside from the fact that everybody dies, and Kael goes crazy and kills herslf
I think I’ve identified the source of the problem.
So it’s done. This scene is totally on drugs, but some kind of a pattern for the rewrite is down in text. I need to back this up… *runs away briefly*
I thought, since there’s, like, three whole* new people who are reading this blog, and they haven’t read any of my so-called writing, that I’d jump on the excerpt bandwagon. Also, formatting this post buys me almost five whole minutes of procrastination time, and I’m out of tea to procrastinate by making. My logic is without peer.
Another blog post written on the highway!
- Soundtrack is: Coldplay
- Driver is: Fraulein
- Drink is: Ice cubes left over from McDonald’s Root Beer
- Destination is: St. John’s and the Home School Conference.
Okay, now that you have all the vital stats, I suppose I may as well explain in labourious and tedious words.
We’re going to the Home School Conference!
Okay, yes, the language portion of my brain is sadly lacking at this date. But despite this tragic handicap, I persevere and blog, for you, my loyal reader. I’m so noble. *sniffs*
Up until yesterday I though that I was going to stay home, live on tea and noodles, and watch television this weekend. My work schedule meant that I would miss the convey out, you see. And then, someone clever, (not me, sad to say), looked at the calander and noticed that I was off in the early afternoon. “So,” Clever Person said to his or herself, “Snazel could leave on the latter half of the Convoy, if the latter half of the convoy delayed a couple hours. ” And we all saw that this was good, and it was so.
And no we’ve been on the road for a little over two hours, looking to be on the road for a further three hours. Yay. On the other hand, the road is sparkly, and the clouds are beautiful. And I will probably double the amount of my freckles by the time we get there. *sigh*
We’ve gone 168 km, go us!
Geo: “Are we there yet?”
Fraulein: “You should do something fun while you you wait!”
Snazel: “You can always take up slapping yourself for personal amusement!”
Fraulein: “Self abuse is not entertainment.”
Snazel: “I’m just pinking my cheeks the natural way.” *lofty*
Oh, and when we stopped for a bathroom break a lovely old lady asked if four of my younger siblings were my children. This selection of my siblings included Slonner, who is 12 and a half. *headdesk* I guess my work clothes make me look REALLY mature? On the other hand, I just slapped Fraulein while she was driving “to make sure her eyes didn’t close,” and accused her music of being a travesty. So perhaps Maturity is negotiable? Yep, that’s what I think.
In other news, Fraulein and I are meeting up with at least two other friends, perhaps more, and going to a movie tonight! It has been suggested that we watch a chick flick. My response, roughly, was “Yeah, sure! I know a great one called Star Trek! I’m just gonna go watch it, you can join me if you want. Tah!”
At work today my printer wasn’t working when I went to balance out, so I had to call tech support. (We restarted the computer. :D) While waiting for the computer to claw its way back into relevance, I long-dated one arm, and date-stamped the other. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That’s all I have to say on that subject. Annnddd, the air conditioning doesn’t seem to be working. How dreadfully jolly. I think I’m going to buy myself a milkshake at our next stop! Good plan, me!
Geo: “Oh! I see houses!”
Snazel: *monotone* “False hope. False hope.”