Wurdstock 2005

I am faced with two choices:

1: I can either create and post a satirical article on how staying home while Wordstock 2005 is in full swing MAJORLY sucks, or,
2: I can mumble "Praise the Lord..." and nod my head at those who are attending and say "Have a good time".

Have a good time.

My newfound (or maybe it was just hiding there all along) optimism and consequent attempts at being edifying in most things brings me to say those four words. I would have liked to attend; maybe next time. But for those of you who are having trials because you couldn't attend, look at it this way: You are now more like Jesus. He was a man of sorrows (don't try to excuse yourself if you're a girl, "man" meaning human being) and acquainted with grief. No, I'm not trying to be comforting. I'm trying to reason with you in a new approach. (Do you want a hug?)

Well, as you can see, staying home while an explosive camp is underway has driven me a little crazy. But I know I have important things to do here...like...clean my room! Oh yeah, very messy. And, uh...practice guitar! Maybe one day I'll make it to Wordstock as a band member (Hey, I can dream, right?). Anyway, I'm off to quietly sneak through the apartment to the garbage dump that is my room, and find my pillow through the pile of books on my bed.

I thought I'd sign off with an encouraging quote for my benefit: Be so...HAPPY! And: Quacky WAS a duck (that is, he died). Maybe it's because of that kid who would "...sit besides him, and give him a snack." If Quacky was a duck, and a little duck was he, I assume he died a not-so-little duck, which could mean death by over-eating. With all this time on my hands, I could get to the bottom of this.

Remember, spay and neuter you pets. Amen?