15/12/2001 - 3:01 p.m.

Qwibble, bibble, sploop (in short, a load of nonsense)

Guess who has decided they're going to rewrite/modernise King Lear and then explain, in a page and a half paper, why it works and turn it in Thursday next? You guessed it, ME- hey you're pretty good at this game. I don't know why I decided to do this. Well, actually, I do, it means that I accomplish my Drama project and my English project in one fell swoop, but, the Thursday next is a little, shall we say, daunting? And, oh shit, I can't do it on Wednesday night at all because I'm going with Ren and Andy. (I'm sorry, movie made from best-fantasy-book-of-all-time beats out super-long-english-drama-project any day.) Hmmm, if I don't write in here until the 21st, you'll know why.

Actually, we get out of school on the 20th, so, after that, I'll probably have very little to do but spout on here until January 3rd. Unless it snows. Which it hasn't. Funny, the only things I can attribute to any kind of god is the weather.

Do French people giggle when they hear the name Amazon.com? Abby's got this French slang dictionary that defines Amazon as "a prostitute who sells herself from her car", or as "a one breasted warrior". Weird. (Which comes from the Anglo Saxon "wyrd", which was fate.)

John Cleese is shilling for some golf company. Sad. Same with Ringo Starr and his commericals- though Shining Time Station wasn't a bad thing (and then he was followed by George Carlin, blah- I can't stand him).

Well, it's 3:20, I must begin to be productive.