Away Laughing on a Fast Camel

For the first time in my life, I am at a complete loss for words. It's been a weird day like that. My sister didn't bring home the basket she took to school for like... "Grade Nine Show and Tell" because it would be extremely "gay" to carry a basket home from school. Apparently. It's a long story... My dad got mad and told her to take off her makeup. So now she's been crying for two hours. It really doesn't make sense even when you know the whole story, so there's no point in telling it. Instead, I will insert a portion from one of my favourite books in the whole entire world HERE:

8:15 a.m.
It's only 8:15 A.M. On Sunday. I want to sleep forever and ever and never wake up to life as a red-bottomed spinster.

8:30 a.m.
Maybe if I made a special plea to Baby Jesus for clemency, he would hear me. If I promise to put my red bottom aside with a firm hand, he will send the SG back to me.

8:35 a.m.
I can't pray here - Baby Jesus won't be able to hear a thing above Libby's singing. Maybe I should make the supreme sacrifice and go to God's House. Call-me-Arnold the Vicar would be beside himself with joy, and he would probably prepare a fatted whatsit... pensioner.

9:05 a.m.
What should I wear for church? Keep it simple and reverential, I think.

9:36 a.m.
My false eyelashes are fab.

9:37 a.m.
Maybe I shouldn't wear them, though, because it might give the wrong impression. It might imply that I was a bit superficial. I'll take them off.

9:38 a.m.
It has taken me ages to stick them on, though. Anyway, if God can read your every thought because of his impotence ability, He will know that I really want to wear my eyelashes and have only taken them off in case He didn't like them. They didn't have false eyelashes in ye olde Godde tymes so it is a moot point.
Perhaps He will think they are my real ones.

9:40 a.m.
But that would make Him not an impotent all-wise God, that would make Him a really dim God. Who can't even tell the difference between real and false eyelashes, even though He has been watching someone put them on for the last half an hour.
And I say that with all reverencosity.
Anyway, surely He is looking at the starving millions, not sneaking around in my bedroom.

in the loo
9:50 a.m.
Is He watching me now? Erlack.


HAHAHAHA. Oh Georgia, how I love you. If you haven't read the Georgia Nicholson series thus far: GET TO IT. The above was excerpted from the latest book in the series "Away Laughing on a Fast Camel", but if you haven't read any, you should start from the first book in the series: "Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging."
I have it to lend to anyone that is interested. :D
And boys: you should be doubly interested, because it gives you an EXACT view into the way a girl's mind works. It is so so so brilliant. They all are. I love Louise Rennison. (The author. And not in "that way" either. I'm not a lesbian. Don't get excited. You know who you are.)

Anyway, I'm off to enjoy my book. Ya'll should be doing something better with your time anyway. I've been getting muchos responses from many of you that use this as a procrastination aid (Yang, Andrea, Kosma, Scott?, and everyone else who reads this and posts their comments. You shall not be mentioned because you get mentioned enough.) Anyways, I don't want to be the one responsible for you not getting your work done. So go do it. Yes, yes, I'm very flattered you find this so amusing - I find it amusing to write. A lot more amusing than reading for my classes. (And really, everything is relative.) But just because one of us is throwing our scholarly career down the drain doesn't mean we all should be: So go do your work. NOW.