If I could live the lives I wrote, I wouldn’t waste my time writing them. I figure that’s how most writers are. Maybe not Hunter Thompson. But he’s really the exception that proves the rule. Those who cannot do, write. Not that I really want to kill anyone (homeless or otherwise) or most of the other fucked up shit that comes up. Eh. What are you gonna do?
I’m not a horrible person. Honestly. Trust me. I guarantee it. Would I lie?
It’s like one of those annoying commercials you just can’t get out of your head.
Oh, so I've started reading The Chronicles of Narnia again. What with the movies coming out and all, I wanted to refresh my memory. And that way I could comment snidely on how the book was so much better. But upon looking back on them (and so far I have only re-read The Magician's Nephew and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) I'm hoping the movies are going to be better. Because these books aren't that good. The plots run relatively thin and seem forced most of the time, the main character is Deus ex Machina despite Aslan and the children's attempts to the contrary, and C.S. Lewis's heavy handed moralism is really quite annoying. There are some good ideas in them, some good takes on myth and such, but ultimately the story tends to fall short. I guess I wasn't quite as discerning as a child. It happens.
Oh, funny story... I was about to go to work 12 hours early tomorrow. I almost mistook a 4:15 pm start time for a 4:15 am start time. That would have been both awkward and incredibly annoying. I do so ever love my sleep. Good thing I checked the schedule one last time. Ok, so maybe that wasn't the funniest of stories. I suppose it would have been funnier with a midget. But I didn't have one handy at the time.
“Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I didn’t send you flowers.
I hope this will do.”
- Usko, Broken Apologies