Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I can alliterate.

Slowly but surely, the slovenly student sitting next to me slurps snot skyward, sneaking slimy, slithering, snot-slugs surreptitiously to his sinuses.

No really, it's gross. Get a Kleenex.


All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson