I have it on the good authority of people I trust that I once attended and graduated from something called High School. It doesn’t sound like something I would do, but I suppose people would know better than I do. So anyway, tomorrow is the reunion for people who graduated this strange place. while plenty of people are not going to be showing up because they live other places, or they have no interest or maybe they died of AIDs while robbing a liquor store, but I will be attending this thing.
The strange thing is, though, that apparently this gathering is just a bunch of people from the school going to some bars and drinking. On television and movies school reunions are always ceremonies in gymnasiums and people get awards for travelling the least distance to get there (or at least Homer Simpson did) but this is just a bar. Oh well. I guess if I want a classier more television-style reunion, I should go to school in television. I shall have to work on that.
I’ve complained about linear time being too fast for my liking and I’ve complained about not having anything interesting to write about. Those are my standard things I blame not writing here more on. Today I’m gonna blame something else: I was abducted by aliens. It isn’t necessarily true, but it’s good to have some variety in my excuses.
There were a couple questionnaires in the newspaper today. One for how depressed you are, one for how stressed out you are. According to the stress one, I’m living a good life. According to the depression one, I should be seeking medical help. Sounds about like I suspected.
Haiku!
Aboard the spaceship.
All the aliens were sad.
They had no robots.
The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel. That’s what I’m listening to right now. Good song. One of my favorites probably. I remember I looked it up on the Wikipedia once and it said it was supposed to be about the way the nation felt after JFK was shot, but it doesn’t sound right to me. If I were to pick my meaning, I would say it sounds more like a warning against people letting their interactions become hollow and meaningless.
But all of that and I still get the words mixed up in my head and replace them with “‘Your exploits have been sad and boring. They tell a tale that’s worth ignoring. When you’re alone, the words of your story will echo down the resthome hall” from the Simpsons. Ah the Simpsons. Good stuff.
Okay, I just officially announced this thing on the “Parent Company Website.” That means, I’ll have to figure out how I’m doing the Articles here soon. But not too soon, because I have to go to work. Which I’m not loving.
Haiku!
Robot from the Mars.
He can fly and hover a bit.
I wish he my friend.
Though Marq, my roommate, and I don’t pay for cable, we seem to get the channel Global in perfectly clear. Marq says he hates their news. I can’t remember what they play. I know the Simpsons are on there and the Daily Show isn’t. Hmmmm. I guess I’ll continue not caring.
