Discoflux & Hell
For some days have I lain in bed with sickness, not working. A wicked cold consumed me, & thus I rested. Today, I returned to th fold, although not to th school I've gone to exclusively for th past several months. Now that my class' teacher hath returneth, my school doesn't need me every day. So I hooked myself up to th good 'ol Wheel of Misfortune (i.e. th substitute teacher automated phone service), reported myself "available," & they sent me deep into th depths of hell.
Yes, if I were to assemble a Top Five Worst Submarine Teaching Days list, this would be on it.
Alright. I had gotten used to this sort of thing, but for a while I found myself in a more stable & comfortable position. Now, 'tis back to th fold. So be it. Someone has to shovel shit in hell, why not Androse?
Actually, I find myself in a surprisingly good mood today, considering. Perhaps because I can breathe through my nose again.
I almost forgot!
HAPPY DISCOFLUX!
1 comment:
Some RAW fun:
"Dr Lecter, my candidate for the male archetype of 1951-2000, will never win any Nice Guy awards, I fear, but he symbolizes our age as totally as Bloom symbolized his. Hannibal's wit, erudition, insight into others, artistic sensitivity, scientific knowledge etc. make him almost a walking one man encyclopedia of Western civilization. As for his "hobbies" as he calls them -- well, according to the World Game Institute, since the end of World War II, in which 60,000,000 human beings were murdered by other human beings, 193, 000,000 more humans have been murdered by other humans in brush wars, revolutions, insurrections etc. What better symbol of our age than a serial killer? Hell, can you think of any recent U.S. President who doesn't belong in the Serial Killer Hall of Fame? And their motives make no more sense, and no less sense, than Dr Lecter's Darwinian one-man effort to rid the planet of those he finds outstandingly loutish and uncouth."
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