Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Can't sleep. Frankenstein will eat me.

Okay. It's 3:25 Christmas morning. I can't sleep because--no I'm not eagerly awaiting Santa Claus. I'm 47, not 11. I haven't been to this blog in two years and I want to get back at it but the old format isn't going to hack it. But consider this a feeble reengineering start. I must find a design that is real and not a regurgitation not some pre-chewed format. Oh yeah. And I started reading Frankenstien today. Yep I said read, not watch. Did I spell that right? Is it Stein? I'm not looking it up. I don't care if I am an English teacher. What do you mean I should know? Why should I automatically know how to spell Franken...stien? Just 'cause it's a book? I suppose I because I know how to spell Godzilla makes me Honey Boo-Boo's gimp brother. Well Godzilla can kick Frankenstien's butt...because Frankenstien isn't the monster. He's the mad scientist who made the monster. And he's not mad. Just a curious scientist. Very. I'm signing off. I'll deal with you people later. Merry Christmas. Go see the Hobbit. Or read it. Read it.

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