Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The equation to life. (Or why humans are here)

Instructor, pacing the front of the room, stroking chin, looks quizzically at January, who is lening back nonchalantly and chewing on a straw because that crap is addictive and almost therapeutic. All of the questions he doesn't voice are there in his eyes; "Why? How? WHAT IS THE ANSWER?"

And then she speaks.

January: Sleep deprivation + waking up at the a$$ crack of dawn + not enough coffee = cranky January that will claw your eyes out of you look at her wrong. Simple enough, Karate Kid. Is that the best you got? Bring it on. BRING. IT. ON. I am ALMOST fluent in 3 languages, one of them being English, mother trucker. Throw all your punches at me; I'm the ninja of time and space. I had a chocolate chi8p muffin for lunch. Yes, that is an 8. No, I will NOT change it. THIS IS SPARTAAA!

Instructor: I see! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

January: Yeah. Duh. Are there any glittery things around here? I'm tired. Maybe a string? Popsicle? Napkin? Mustache? Seriously, throw me a frickin bone.

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