And breathe out

You see what happens when I don't post enormous, lengthy blogs day in and day out? Everything just goes downhill. There were 16 posts last month and nine of them were from me! (You're welcome.) Let's pick up the pace, people! Get onto those laptops, abandon your mountains of schoolwork, and release your life's shortcomings into the blogosphere! (Nice use of the word "blogosphere," eh?)

I see I'm going to have to get this ball rolling myself. Let's see what's going on for V. Tang today. It is a b-e-a-utiful Friday (Thank you, Jim Carrey.) and I plan to laze around and accomplish very little. Why? Because I have NO CLASSES today! Zero, zip, zilch, nada, diddly squat, glokkenschpiel. I may have made up that last one. The word came to me in a dream and now I'm not sure if I actually came up with that all on my own or it's some German-manufactured AK-47 or a rifle or something of that nature.

Before you all hop onto trains, planes, and automobiles to storm my residence in Ottawa in protest of this unjust imbalance of schoolwork and leisure time, I beseech you to lay down your stones and pitchforks to hear me out. I have slaved away for ions on assignment after assignment, including but not limited to:

• writing horrible papers on Tommy Douglas Who knew there was more to him than Medicare?
• explaining why Nellie Bly was such a freak. The lady married her 70-year-old husband when she was 30 on the same day that she met him! And when she was 50, she starts cozying up to a 24-year-old boxer. And I mean boxer as in elevated ring, jeering crowds, padded red oven mitts, and men trying to knock each other unconscious in silk boxers. Hey, maybe that's where they got the name! Point being: Bly has a couple of screws loose. They couldn't find a better model female journalist, could they?
• listening to my French professor drone on and on about the importance of le subjonctif. To be fair, I did learn something that I plan to use over and over again: Tu me rends folle (fou if you're a guy)! Translation: You're making my crazy!
• filling out those infuriating Scantron bubbles They expect you to remember the name of every lump and wrinkle in your brain but they don't think you can remember how to fill in a bubble.
• finding the nonexistent journalistic importance of a guy who thinks the CPR is the root of Canadian culture
• reading up on the extremely boring new budget now that Parliament is once again in session Do you know how many clauses are in that 23-page document! Paraphrase, people! Everything could have been just as clear if they said: cut spending.

I think I deserve a break before my eyeballs shoot out of their sockets, a most unpleasant experience for everyone. I think I'm going to sit around and read a little P.G. Wodehouse or some Agatha Christie, grab a coffee, take a nap, and generally flaunt my lack of productivity in front of those who are trying to finish assignments that were due yesterday.

You may now pick up your stones and pitchforks.