Quirks

I am reading Catch 22.
Which is hilarious by the way. Definitely move it to the top of your summer reading list.

Oh quick shout out to the person I borrowed it from.
I've been carrying it around pretty much everywhere and my purse is a really rough place to be. So the edges are probably a little more frayed...and there might be avocado on it. Sorry! I now put it in an airtight Forever 21 bag to prevent further damages. But if a riot or fire breaks out in my purse and your book is caught in the cross fire, I will buy you a new one and claim nothing happened to it.

There are five bajillion characters in Catch 22. I had to make a character list to keep track of them.
Okay, I have trouble following books with more than 4 characters. It's sad.
I even made a character list for Watchmen.

Anyway, every character in the book has a quirk.
For example, "General P. P. Peckem was a general with whom neatness definitely counted. He was a spry, suave and very precise general who knew the circumference of the equator and always wrote 'enhanced' when he meant 'increased.' He was a prick, and no one knew this better than General Dreedle..."

Son of a Carnie* I want a quirk!
Perhaps I have one but just don't know about it. The thing with quirks is you don't know what you are doing is a quirk unless someone points it out to you.
Unless you develop one knowingly...
"Joanne is a girl who squealed like a dying pig when faced with flying objects. She is a pansy. Everyone knew this and flung random objects at her. It also made tennis a very difficult sport indeed."

In unrelated news, mosquito bit my eyelid. I now look like the unfortunate offspring of a goldfish and whoever is willing to boink a goldfish...or could figure out how to boink a goldfish. I have become the butt sphincter who wears her sunglasses in the underground subway system.


*I have decided to ban all forms of profanity from my blog in light of the fact that I cuss too much. I am hoping this will translate over to real life. Instead of cuss words, I will be using "Son of a ____" and filling in the blank with what I think it would suck to be a son of.
I will probably run out of ideas eventually and come up with other means to express myself.

Fregadero!

I can't tell jokes to save my life.
But who can really? It's hard to be funny when facing impending doom.
Hah. Hah.
See above.

I word searched "fuck" on my page. I used it 4 times in like...6 entries.
That is pathetic. I am an intelligent young person who should be able to find more creative ways to be profane.
So I hereby ban the word from this blog. I shall save it for tennis, toe-stubbings, and general bad luck.

Is life easier if you just stop defining what something is and just let it be?
Can Beatles songs answer every philosophical question about life?

What is the meaning of life?
Tomorrow never knows....