Esther's synopsis of Herman Melville's "Moby Dick."
This is a far better synopsis than the one I gave in a10th-grade book report. Of course, in that case I hadn't actually read the book yet.
Despite that fact, I earned an "A." That was the day I learned that style outweighs substance. I used my top-notch comedy skillz to denounce the book in evangelistic stylee, and no one seemed to notice that I never actually said anything about the book. My orating was so thunderous that it attracted the class from next door; I can still see poor Carrie O'Brien pressing her hands to her ears as if she were in one of those Duck and Cover films.
Jenny deleted her blog a few days ago, but misses blogging. Blogless Jenny says: "Today I saw a pigeon eating fried chicken. The weirdest part is that it really seemed to be enjoying it.*"
I've been clicking to Meaghan's blog all day, waiting to see her response to the Yankees' historic loss Wednesday. Nothing yet.
"On display"?!! Like those fake deserts at restaurants?
W'hey Harry! Clearly Harry is the most in touch with the average British male. That said, since he's all the way down there as third in line for the throne, I hereby propose that he be adopted as King of Minnesota; we'd love to have him.
And no matter how wild Harry got, I doubt he could match the incredibly disturbing nature of South Carolina's Libertarian candidate for Senate (see quote 3rd graf from the bottom).
Tough on stains, easy on terrorists.
What the world needs now are more violent religious idealists! Hooray kick-butt missionaries!
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's not rush things.
Gee, by looking at him, you'd certainly never guess that Bernie would be sexually disturbed, would you?
Considering that the sprawling headquarters of my benevolent employer are located beneath a flight path, this story makes me nervous.
Key quote: "The engine is described as being the size of a Honda Civic."
Note to lovelorn teens: Don't pick a fight with a guy who's good at throwing knives. Or, at the very least, don't give him your knife.
Note self: Move to Europe. Buy phone.
Darn you! Darn you, dirty pumpkin thieves! Darn you all to heck!
You know who's to blame for this, don't you? All those rat lovers. And Bill Clinton.
*Insofar as pigeons can seem like anything but stupid, glassy-eyed flying rats. Bastards.