Death comes for us all (a melodramatic haiku of retirement)
Alas! this blog is
no longer where it is at.
Onwards! (Back to home.)
It's all fun and games until someone loses molecular cohesion.
On my nightly rounds:
- Jonathan Brandis? Guilty as charged, your Honour! (But John Denver?? Go to your room!)
- Mallory gets self-conscious about her grand writing which she calls "high-flown". But I adore reading it. It is so easy on the ear. Never am I more sure (and I'm always sure) that she has talent than when I can wallow so decandently in her words.
Incidentally, I should be at Pol Sci drinks at the moment, but I don't feel like hauling myself all the way out to O'Connor (yeah, it's not far... if you've got a car) just to see how amusing my lecturer is while tipsy. I have no doubt he's highly entertaining, but I'm just so tired. And apathetic. Don't forget the apathetic.
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