YAY MOODSWINGS

[ithika]

Yep. Youbetcha.

Aaaaanyway, today we had livenude person for studio-thing.



<tr align="left"><td class="index" align="right">16 Oct 2003|08:59pm]</td></tr><tr align="left"><td colspan="2" bgcolor="black">

[

mood

|

blah

]

Ahaha, Writing Group is fun. Ok, so the only part of the subject that'sactually derived from Writing Group is "Magical Contour Man" (creditmust go to louisthefly, ah, the genius), but I thought it would make an interesting subject anyway....
Super Thesaurus Man is, of course, Karandras,
Magical Contour Man... doesn't have a livejournal that I'm presently aware of, and
SUPER KUNG FOo MAN
is the evolved form of
KUNG FoO MAN (note the difference from FoO to FOo, and the absence of SUPER)
KUNGFoO MAN, or, rather, as he is now known, SUPER KUNG FOo MAN, was firstfound on my computer Benjamin. He can now be found throughout my schoolnotes, my organizer, both computers, and so on.
Nothing more as to his meaning shall be explained, as he is, SUPER KUNG FOo MAN, and he must have an air of mystery, after all.
Uh, what happened today?
Oh,yes. In Biol, we disected FLOWERS. (infinitely better than disectingrats.. oh yes.. aha, Netto.. sorry... not really. It just had to besaid... y'know?) It was lossa fun. *nods* Flowers are fun. And therewas the FLOWER CLAW OF DOOM FROM HELL, which is basically the base ofthe petal where all the... stamen? yeah. them, join to it. It looks vaicool.
And in Lit, we looked at the poem The Death Of Ben Hall and itrocked. Balads rock. Balad narratives rock. Ben Hall was cool, andtraitors are poo. And also, it rhymes! RHYMES! *throws confetti* It'snow on my list of fave poems. But my favourite is still The Rhyme OfThe Ancient Mariner.. And my fave poet is probably still Keats. Herocked. Ah, he was so cool.
Romantic poetry was soooooo vai vai cool. *nods*
Uhrm, what else... uhh....
RE... no, nothing interesting happened... uh... nah, the rest of the day was average.
Oh yeah!
Someone swiped a scalpel in Biol. I thought that was noteworthy.

</td></tr>


That's from my Deadjournal.
And I have this to say - SCHHTAIIIIIMEN armygeek, I can still picture you saying that, then giggling. Can you?

OH GOD I'm so tired now. I was going to write this awesome update about cool, fantastic things, but instead I've cut and pasted an old entry and I think I'll leave it with that. Bada boom.

Comments

[tattered-pinion.livejournal.com]

Go to sleep or something, girl.

[bloodied-aura.livejournal.com]

I did! Muahah

[http://users.livejournal.com/drayke_/]

Beeeg badda booom

[bloodied-aura.livejournal.com]

Leeloo Dalas Multipass

[reaps.livejournal.com]

ira hayes > dumb bushrangers

Ballad Of Ira Hayes - Johnny Cash
CHORUS:
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Gather round me people there's a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land

Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira's peoples' crops
'Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin' water stopped

Now Ira's folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man's greed

CHORUS:
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war


There they battled up Iwo Jima's hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

CHORUS:
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Ira returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no crops, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira'd done
And when did the Indians dance

CHORUS:
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Then Ira started drinkin' hard;
Jail was often his home
They'd let him raise the flag and lower it
like you'd throw a dog a bone!

He died drunk one mornin'
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

CHORUS:
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won't answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin' Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin' thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

[bloodied-aura.livejournal.com]

It is a sad song. :(