so that i might shine a small keychain bound penlight in a fully lit room

yep. i’m no miep gies, but she probably doesn’t have a laptop. she might not even be alive.

allow me to consult the wikipedia. still alive, 99 years old. pretty damn cool.

anyways, blogs are for grown-ups, and cattle ranchers, and people that like sports. i enjoy steak and watch baseball, so into the “blogosphere” i come. i hate the idea of that word. this will be some terrible combination of poetry, stories about the last month of the first year of college, and will serve as a record of the conversations i have with my roommate “juice” while we are lying in bed. for example:

(this morning, 10am, juice has a strong hangover coming on like a freight train)

Juice: i just had the craziest dream bro

Me: (groans, flips on back, flips onto stomach, pulls a potato chip out of belly button, considers eating it)

Me two minutes later: what? wait? you had a dream?

Juice: yeah man, i had a dream that i was taking some kind of ACT, but I was like at an airport, there were just mad security everywhere, just… security, and i’m trying to take this test, but i’m petting an all-white panda

Me: an all white panda?

Juice: totally white. and it was so soft man. like, just so softest. the softest panda. and it was in my lap.

Me: (eats potato chip)

Juice: and the hair was made out of like long circles

Me: loops? what? what the fuck are you saying?

Juice: no man, like, like curls. it was so soft. oh i was just petting it man. and the bitches wanted to touch my panda, but no. i wouldn’t let anyone touch my baby panda.

so, there is a lot more of that to look forward to. i have a shower to take. good day to all of you dapper dames and gents