Until Friday, TGIF means Toes Go In First, it's a sign on my shoes. I can't believe it. It's less than three weeks since Christmas Vacation ended and I already need a vacation . . . I'm thinking California. Truly, I think that some 2000 miles in between Maine and me would be very good for me. Maybe I should even leave the States for awhile. I'd like to see the Mayan, Egyption or the Greek ruins someday, or perhaps skiing in Scandinavia or eating, czech that, gorging chocolate in Switzerland (no pun intended). A forty-five minute a day commute eats your very soul and gnaws at you day after day, although I'm not sure if that's the whole thing. Perhaps history has something to do with it.
History with the Deuce. The Deuce, that's what she's called. Rather like, El Duce, aka Mussolini. Nothing against her, she's a good teacher but I get behind so easily in that class. That irritates me. I wrote an essay on America's policy on the Native Americans. I liked it and I got it back. "0/9 points. Wrong topic." Schieße! How the hell did this happen? And then there was last Thursday when I was hit with two tests, in one day, in one class, in one period, that I knew nothing about! How do these disasters happen? Scheiße! Scheiße! Scheiße!
On a side note, I DO pay attention.
Yo Mamma jokes do not work in the deep south, especially with hillbillies.
Billybob: "Yo Mama so ugly, she gots herself a mustache!"
Jimney: "That ain't no mustache, them just nose hairs!"
If you are curious about the photo in my profile, that's me playing Ben in chess. I know that because he's the only person I played last year. I lost too. I haven't won much since. I only play because I'm bored though.
I'm all out of alphabet so, as Mr. Busher would say:
"Have a day"
J Kuhl, Signing Off
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