A Hippy Parade In The November Rain

I think i might be addicted to my blog. My school writing is suffering becuase of it. The paper i wrote tonight reads in no way like an academic paper. Instead of a tecniqual critique of a certain directors feminist film, i wrote what looks like a drug induced flashback. Included in my paper is: an account of my visitation from the directors spirit, an embellished recollection of an exerience i had watching the film in which everything became a cubist painting, and last but not least, a memory of drawing a nude in a life drawing class. My God! I better wake up early to edit this. Oh well, this has been a busy weekend-- a halloween kegger, house cleaning at the hotel, preparing for an American civil war starting tommorrow--i am sure the almighty professor will understand.

I thought there might have been a freagin drum beating hippy parade marching down the street to protest election day, but it turns out the noise i heard was just rain water spewing out of the gutter.