self-indulgent sociopath poem has now reached 68 lines
and is on part two of three
threw together an eight-line poem in an hour in a futile attempt to balance the proportion of normal wordy pretentious poems to crazyfuck wordy pretentious sociopath poems
this did not have a significant effect
still have to finish part three before sleeping tonight
if you're reading this, send help
Just got off the phone with my mother.
MOTHER: One of my co-workers recommends watching the Sherlock Holmes movie. Your thoughts?
JADE: Allow me to pontificate for several minutes upon the significant differences in atmosphere and characterization between the many adaptations of said series (half of which you've never heard of), and also the fashion in which more modern versions have started to give our leads a chemistry which tends toward "bickering" or even "vitriolic", in line with the sudden rise of people being total assholes in modern media.
MOTHER: Allow me to augment your diatribe with commentary on Darcy's scathing dialogue within the modern work Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies.
Blame my upbringing, folks!
On the bright side, when I say "a month" I mean I wrote like 3000 words in one slacktastic week, took a break for about two weeks, and then wrote the next 2500 over the last five or six days. So if I actually put my mind to it, as I have not been doing, there's a chance it could go a lot faster.
An unrelated note: I forget what they say about people on vacation. Is it that they aren't themselves, or that they are their true selves? I've also forgot who says this. Probably some philosopher douchebag.
She is not sure what we are doing yet (possibly genealogy work, dropping me off to swim later) so I told her to get back to me on it.
But "Blue Monday" kind of makes me want to dress in drag and go dancing at a gay club.
Except they'd probably just play Lady Gaga instead of 90s music that sounds like it wants to be 80s music.
Oh, and my cat masterfully captured a mouse the other night. This has nothing to do with college but I am very proud of him and would like to share his achievements with the world.
But I won't.
Instead, I will mention that my Cultural teacher has sent me an E-mail saying I ought to submit my "Thoreau discusses natural rights with Zombie!Hobbes" essay to some sort of Honors contest. Unless I have something more interesting from another class which I would like to submit. No, sir, I'm fairly certain the dialogue between a zombie and a hermit encompasses the heights of "interesting" present in my Very Serious College Essays this year.
Je n'even sais pas.
In conclusion, get your whore asses back into the kitchen and make me a sammich.
This is significant to absolutely no one else but me.
And contrary to how this may look, I have not actually spent the last two weeks exclusively on Wikipedia...