

fall-decline-untitled Even the wasps spend the month of September drunk,fall-decline-untitled by ~AssilemtheEutrivous
the rotting fruit helps them to cope with the impending death that is winter
and turns the fear into aggression.
So dont look at me like that
when I mention the vodka and empty cases strewn over my desk.
You asked what I had for dinner.
Crackers. Blackeberries.
What does it matter? Dont call at this time again.
They say September is about fresh starts, that sort of crap.
But youve got to get rid of the old stuff first, to have a clean slate.
Im almost there.
I sit in the field alot these days, with the wasps,
stare into the sky or at the grasses. They
So, have you started school yet?? I'm very jealous, I miss school so much. But I especially miss KSA. I should come down and visit you this fall....
thanks very much for the fav
squeak love munchkin kiss pie chomp
Guess what??!!!! They're fighting about Hans Island again!!!!
Wheeeeee!!!!!
Mr. Idiot Graham (actually, he's not so bad...he DID bother to respond to my letter about Canada's habit of passively letting Syria detain and torture our citizens...or rather, one of his underlings signed a standard response) went and marched around Hans Island and has stirred up a riotous little frenzy with the Vikings again! Last year I listened to a Danish diplomat natter on about Hans Island for some time at the Department of Foreign Affairs while I was galavanting around Ottawa scheming my takeover of Canadian politics in order to implement my revolutionary government with that girl from Yellowknife and that guy from Prince Rupert. Furthermore, the Globe and Mail has consistently referred to the island, sandwiched between Ellesmere Island and Greenland (aka Kalaallit Nunaat), as a knoll. Yes, my love, a KNOLL.
HANS ISLAND IS A KNOLL!!!!!
AND THEY'RE FIGHTING ABOUT IT AGAIN!!!! Vikings and gin drinking diplomats fighting about an arctic knoll. I LOVE the world so passionately my heart may well beat itself into a contusioned pulp against my ribs and leave me as naught but a purplish hemmorhage heaped next to the morning paper.
I wonder if they have compost heaps on Hans Island, aka the Handsome Hansian Knoll of the Great Artic Wonderland. I wonder if they have giant jellyfish that grow horns and wash ashore, maws agape and full of narwhal fins. I wonder if the tiny, mouse-like inhabitants compost this flotsam.
Melissa, I think we ought to start a commune on Hans Island, the Knoll.
Hans, Hans, we love His pants
Red and shiny
They're so tiny
Hans, Hans, we do His dance
In His honour
On His Knoll
That's our anthem.
I'm excited. Are you?
--
...sleeps with lies
And yays for canadians
I hope you'll have a great art time around here!
^^
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Woot for the old school games that wants you to smash it into small pieces when your pist at it.