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Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Wrinkles and pencil marks, not pencil marks.
Hey, guys....hehe, sorry for not writing an entry ....all this year. I have no excuses. I am guilty. But I will give you a nice long one, and abandon facebook (well I kind of already abandoned that...) and my story (well, that too...). You may be crediting yourself for my sudden and glorious appearance back from the dead, because of your constant begging for an entry. But actually, it wasn't you. It was all of you. Wishing me a happy Christmas, new-year, birthday...and as I was reading all of these nice little comments all of you good people left me, I thought to myself (as I much often do), "was it really that long ago that I wrote something for these nice, entry-deserving chaps?!" So I rushed to the computer, typed in www.homeschoolblogger.com, answered some messages quickly, commented on some people's blogs, checked my own comments, answered some questions on wikipedia, checked my faceook, got off, emptied the dishwasher, made copies of my math book for my sister, got back on, did math, then started this entry. See? I always think of my loyal readers first, before anything else. Now, I expect you would like to hear how weekend went, wouldn't you? So I will tell you. I don't have a lot on my mind, but it will still be hard to remember what happened two days ago, because I have a lot on my brain.
I woke up on Saturday morning. The odd thing about me is that I want to sleep late on weekdays, but wake up early on Saturday. But this day I was oddly normal...and I wanted to sleep in. But alas. I could not. For this Saturday was special. It was work-church-super-ultra-workuntillunch-day! In your words, though, it was work day at the church, and it lasted until lunch time.
I pulled myself together, grunted, and got out of bed. Then I went back in. Then got out and thought to myself, "YOU ARE NOT MY MASTER!!! GAHH!" And I set my bed on fire, finally the master of my life. Well not really...I just got up. Then I slapped some jeans on, read an article in the newspaper about how jeans look horrible on people, and ate my breakfast. I thought about writing an entry, but I had nothing really to write about... So instead of that, I asked my parents when we were supposed to leave for the church. It was time.
It is a thirty-ish minute drive to my church, (The Church of Weak Coffee) and Tinuviel had most graciously not let me listen to her iPod. Where is my iPod? In ze fixing hole of DOOM? YES. Indeed, it ate too many electron rolls and passed out into an electron roll comma, and is now being treated....and has been being treated for years...well, weeks actually. But anyways, I had to endure most* of the trip iPodless. But.....we had an -erm- different plessure: The WORST ever radio-drama EVER. And I HIGHLY recomend it. I laughed more than I did in a week at that little radio-drama..... (Oh, did I mention? It was playing on the new radio complete with iPod conection port, that I installed with a little help* from my dad!) The whole series is child-derected (I thought it was mental-derected), and I believe all of them are about music. Cheesy music. The only good episode was named Beethoven Lives Upstairs. But that is a whole nother story. (haha.....get it?!) ...Yeah.
When we got to the church, there was work to be done. My first task was to eat a doughnut hole that I found with his friends in a small basket that I found. He made no attempt to escape. I noted it as odd and made a mental note to investigate further, later.
After that, I was the good little boy I am and asked around, looking for work. I found it all too quickly. First to be done was to gather a bunch of branches big and small, and to throw them into a huge pile already there. Easy enough. Or so it seemed. Actually, it was easy enough this time...
After we finished gathering them, someone got a large amount of paper and cast in on to the huge pile of sticks and branches. They then set it to flames. It would have been better and less-smokey and less paper-floating-around-in-the-air-y if they had just put lighter fluid on the pile instead of paper, but whatever. How could my mind compare to the seasoned mind of a grown-up? ...There may or may not be a hint of sarcasm in that sentence, do what you want with it.
After the burning of the branches, there was more work lurking in the gravel for me. For that is what I must do. Gravel work. You see, as nice as my church may be, it does not have a pathed driveway or parking lot yet, so it is for now, all made of gravel. White gravel to be exact. And some bits of that white gravel shining there in the sun, had black hearts of gravel. Those lot were not content staying on the driveway and parking lot, and had decided instead, to move onto the grass. My job, (and many others) was to move these crafty bits of gravel back to where they belong. It was devious work. But Tinuviel, Eni and I had much fun doing it, and we finally got the job done!
And after one and all had finished their other jobs, such as painting the bland, white, playground set a better color of dark brown, we all gathered together to have lunch outside, by the lake in front of the church. It was hot dogs, and all the things that you know go with hot dogs. And at the end, everyone felt good and accomplished about what they had done. We got in the car, drove home, and chilled out. Thu End. (*She let me listen to one song.)
(*My dad did three fourths of the total work...hehehe)
I hope that was long enough for you, because that's all you will get for now! And, as ze good, loyal readers of Ze Blog of Doom have decided, I am going to start posting quotes at the end of all my entries, starting with this one.
~ One of the things that I like, and find that I am good at, is making people laugh, weather they are laughing at a joke or my face. But if they are laughing at my face, they must surely be joking. ~
Signing out, -Mister Cool-
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I am Mister Cool. I lead a very mysterious and doomful life, one that you are not worthy to hear about.
But I will record it anyway, because it makes me happy. Good. 
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Tuesday, April 21, 2009 - Untitled Comment