Apparently I’m a very bad blogger. I’ve updated this thing like twice since I first got it. People have even been nice enough to read it, and yet still I do not do as I should and keep up with it. Hence, I am a bad little boy. Guess someone will have to spank me.
I’d like to apologize for that last bit. I may have Tourette’s. I’m looking into it.
On to more exciting things: …
On to less exciting things: I’m killing time instead of doing research for my senior thesis. Fun, huh? While I don’t mind the concept of a “well rounded” education, I still don’t see the point in asking a Medieval history student to do his thesis on some aspect of “The Great War” (World War I for all you normal people out there). In all likelihood, I will be spending the rest of my academic career studying such lovely things as mass slaughter, the Black Death, and smallpox (should I actually get into Grad school, of course), so I figured I may as well do something similar in this situation as well. I’ll be studying the effect that the Maxim Machine Gun had on the war (again, for all you norm-ies out there, the Maxim was the first truly effective machine gun, firing over 500 rounds a minute at a range of up to 2 miles. This is what made WWI the blood bath that it was).
So that’ll be fun. And I’m sure I’ll ALWAYS have people willing to hear about it. Not really, of course. The only person I know who’s sick enough to want the details is going to play with the Anti-Claus in only a few weeks, effectively taking from me my sole audience member for the death and destruction lectures (you know who you are)! Damned stupid ICE!
Oh well. Bed calls. No really. It’s got a lovely singing voice that is rather reminiscent of Jewel yodeling. Actually, it’s closer to Shakira, but I feel uncomfortable making that particular comparison, because my bed could never shake it’s hips in quite the lovely fashion that she could. God bless the belly dance.
Tea and cake or death.