I can't think of anything I want to yell about now. If you have any ideas mail them to me.

Is this supposed to be titled, or something? Then I will call it "Gnur". Or maybe, "Schnapsidee"

Si es verdad, alla va,
Si es mentira, queda urdida.
( If it be true, so it is.
If it be false, so be it. And I'm sorry I couldn't get the accent marks right.The same goes for every other foreign phrase I use here)

A ramble? Me? Oh, dear. Well, okay, let's see... Moja siostra jest malym kotletem, i to pole jest male, tamto jest duze! I to jest ockno, if you can imagine. Of course, that made no sense, but at least the grammar is correct, and Polish grammar is a suka to learn. Three genders, seven noun cases, and I haven't even started verbs yet. But let's get down to business:
Why on earth ...no, no that won't do it.
If....
No...
Dammit, this isn't working. Shimatta.
Rambling in print just isn't my thing. Speech, however, is a different story.
What do I know enough to bitch about? Geisha, superstition, pagan religions, and...cooking. And knitting on five needles, Japanese embroidery, and- oh, any random useless subject.
I have yet to be asked, on a history test, to write an essay on say, Anne of Cleves, which is another thing, or person, rather, that I know about.

Good lord, this ramble is already boring and obnoxious as hell. I advise you to get out, now!
. Well, Stephen- you told me to ramble, and I'm rambling now; you told me to write in any language I wanted.
Alright, I will ramble about being scatter-brained, and constantly stuck in French/Japanese/Polish mode. Am I missing one? I don't think I'm attacking any other languages at the moment. I really am a fool. By the horn of Acheleous, I'm learning Polish? On my own? Sure, it sounds like a great intellectual achievement, but really it's just speeding up the process by which my mind will erase all the English I've learned since I was a baby. Example:

ASHLEY: Austin, what time is it?
ME: Nani?
ASHLEY: Gah! Will you stop speaking POLISH!!!
ME: Nie to jest polski, to jest Nihango.
ASHLEY: Dammit, Austin! If we don't get home soon, your parents are going to murder you!
ME: Je regrette, madamoiselle, mais je suis, je suis,ah...fucking stuck en la french mode.Et la Polonaise, et la Japonaise. Preszpraszm.
ASHLEY: (screams, and starts ranting, right there in the middle of the mall) ME: (at this point, I start fluttering my fan, and attempt to get out of my self-created void of languages by reciting the alphabet, and then some passages of Shakespere) Okay, I'm better now. I am also really and truly sorry for getting stuck again. (now the two of us wander into a shop where a helpful saleslady comes up to snare us)
HELPFUL SALESLADY: Hi, may I help you?
ME: Yes, do you speak Latin?

And so on.

Now, really. And of course, learning these, as well as memorizing completely useless shit and reading "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe?" upwards of 3,000 times has permanently damaged my intellect to the point where a single episode of "Telletubbies" will be too much for me to follow. Anything could be happening, and I wouldn't notice. If the house catches fire, I will still be sitting quietly, while my mind is very softly chanting this:

NICK: Aw... that is touching... that is...downright moving... that's what it is. UP YOURS!
GEORGE: Hm?
NICK: You heard me!
GEORGE: You take the trouble to construct a civilization...to...to build a society, based on the principles of... of principle... you endeavor to make communicable sense out of natural order, morality out of the unnatural disorder of man's mind... you make government and art, and realize that they are, must be, both the same... you bring things to the saddest of all points...to the point where there is something to lose...then all at once, through all the music, through all the sensible sounds of men building, attempting, comes the Dies Irae. And what is it? What does the trumpet sound? Up yours. I suppose there's a justice to it, after all the years...Up yours.

You see?
My theory is, this information is large and strong. A wad of this trivia will become lodged in your brain, feeding on the smaller, weaker facts you've stored there. I suppose that's what's happening to me. Pretty soon the names of all my relatives and the location of my keys will be eaten by lines from plays like "She bitch of a goat's gizzard!" or phrases like " Czy to jest warszawa? Tak, to jest! Ty jestesczy moj brat."
And I don't even want to get started on, "HEY SWAAAAMPYYYYY!", or "There's an irony to all this, I'm just not drunk enough to figure out what it is yet."
To make things worse, my mind is constantly being bombarded by the next-door neighbors' noise. They're "average" people, with huge knock-down, drag-out fights, as well as an estimated 14,000 dogs, all of which are very vocal. A typical argument goes like this: (and I swear this actually happened!)

(scene: their huge, ugly boat has caught on fire, causing flames to shoot up about six feet. Truly an awesome sight)
FATHER:(his voice audible in Pennsylvania) GOOOOOOODDAMMIT, ALEX! YOU FUCKING LITTLE PRICK!!!!!!!
ALEX: What'd I do? What'd I do? What'd I do? What'd I do?
14,000 DOGS: (howling, and barking, their voices audible in Ohio)
MOTHER: I'd get the Goddamned fire extinguishers, but it seems that MIS-TER HANDYMAN hasn't had them refilled yet!

American Gothic!

Can you blame me for not being able to speak English? Hell, I don't have any time to read anymore. My sole source of intellectual stimulation comes from smartass remarks made during class, (thanks, Paul!), and besides those, my only form of entertainment is my science teacher's hair. And she just got it cut (bitch) so that's out.
So, I'd just like everybody to know (especially Ashley, who's really a saint to put up with me) that when I spend ten minutes wandering around muttering Oberon's flower speech ("Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell...) or the "anyone" poem, I'm not doing it on purpose, my brain's just fucked up. Djenkuje bardzo!

Colorin, colorado, ya mi cuento se ha acabado. (scarlet, or ruby red, now my story has been said)

so there.

FOR FREE TAROT READINGS, CONSULT AUSTIN DURING A LUNCH ON A DAYS, OR WHENEVER I'M LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE THERE! OR EAT AT JOES, IT DOESN'T MATTER!

If you would like to be a guest rambler then you can mail me your rant and I'll rate it and post it.
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