...is that almost nothing else makes a person feel as various and new.
Certainly being good doesn't. As a matter of fact it's quite wearisome after a while and oh such a bore. My life has been so unentertaining as of late, I've got to check my pulse sometimes just to be sure I have one.
What I need is a deeply deviant act to get it racing, to rouse me from my catatonic stupor.
And by deeply deviant I mean something along the lines of an unreturned library book or *looks around anxiously* a pulled fire alarm.
So if you hear any reports of disaster large or small you know who is responsible- my deep ennui which if left unchecked will no doubt reach titanic proportions by the end of the day.
Monday, March 10, 2008
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