So, as you may have heard, two amazing things happened today.
1. Michael Buble’s Christmas album came out today.
2. Coldplay’s “Mylo Xyloto” album also came out today.
3. [I know I said two. Maybe I lied.] My parents took me to Walmart and bought me food.
4. I’m ready for the week as far as homework goes. Shocker.
That’s right, friendies. I have food, and not crud-that-only-lasts-a-day food. Real food, filling food, like bagels and lunch meat and apples and cereal. I’m so excited for dinner tomorrow. Is that weird or what? I only look forward to meals when I’m eating out, at home, or in my room. If it’s in the caf…I could care less. Actually, I couldn’t.
Oh lord, there’s a song called Charlie Brown by Coldplay. It’s on their new album, and it’s fantastic. I say this because I’m listening to it right now.
I’m also about to dig into a thing of Bottle Caps. Alright, so not all the food in my room is healthy. I can deal with that. What’s life without a little sugar, after all? Boring, that’s what it is.
Obviously this post has no coherency. I really just felt like writing…
Hey! Here’s a thought. Have any of you delightful readers [all two of you] ever read “The Sun Also Rises” by Ernest Hemingway?
I’m reading it for class tomorrow, and I gotta admit, I’m not a fan of Hemingway’s writing. Of course, I’m only, what, seven chapters in? So not a WHOLE lot has happened yet, per say. But there’s been a ton of dialogue and bringing characters in without introducing them. That gets on my nerves. Seriously. Who the heck is Brett Ashley and where on earth did she come from and how did Jake [the narrator] know her? Oh, wait, look, chapter eight, I just found out…Still confused.
I think I’m going to bash my head against the wall, smoke something powerful, and drink for a few hours. Then it might make sense. It will probably be really funny then, too.
Joking. Lighten up.
But really…does anyone understand what the heck is going on here? Cause I don’t and I need guidance. I will be your faithful disciple if you will only teach me your ways.
This book makes less sense than “Moby Dick”…and Moby Dick has a lot fewer swear words in it.
You get a headache just thinking about who Georgette is [and where she went and why she was there], what Cohn’s deal is [and why Jake does or does not care], and what the heck Frances [the dull mistress-y person] wants anything to do with a guy like Robert Cohn…
Tylenol. Must have.