Super Duper to the Hooray.

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Battle of the Books.

Here
in this new old town (savour the oxymoron)...
I know not.

Not not not.

Wow.

I joined 'battle of the books'.
Now I am sure I will have to hide in the bathroom stalls to escape the beatings of burly women and fake-tittied others.
As my ultimate weapon,
...drumline...
I shall quote clever lines from books,
and they shall die from an overwhelmed brain due to INTENSE ironic phrases or EXTREME metaphors. Oh it'll be chaos.

I'm just kidding.

But I can see my sister coming all the way from college, shaking me and saying:

"You joined battle of the BOOKS?! Battle of the fucking BOOKS?!"

I'll nod
and she'll say
"You nerd I love you. Good job."

And I shall be utterly confused.

...at least I have the balls to say I fucking love reading, and I am willing to discuss my intrepretation of a certain book and dispute over it with a skinny kid with big glasses.
I like Cypress Hill, by the way, I listened to them all of today (except for a brief intervention from the Shins) and have their songs tattooed in my brain.

6:19 p.m. - 2006-09-27

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Shabby

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