Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Why I have nothing to say, by L

I'm sure you've noticed we haven't blogged. In this dirth of late, the weather has been cold, the office (and my heart) empty, and my contact with Special K sparse.

Here's the best I can come up with, taken from an email between M, S and I.

Yeah, the fans are starting to get antsy. I lack all energy when it comes to this place -- even to blog. And yes, at some point it just starts to get really pathetic. All this dreary weather is making me want to weep for our little idiot. I walked in today and she was typing away with her little nose tucked inside her turtleneck. Was she smelling her laundry? Checking for BO? Warming her nose? I couldn't even muster the energy to care. That's how beaten down I am...

I hope the sun will come out tomorrow for our little village idiot.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Bluto: Hey! What's this lying around sh*t?

Stork: Well, what the hell we s'posed to do, you moron?

D-Day: War's over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.

Bluto: Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!

Otter: Germans?

Boon: Forget it, he's rolling.

Bluto: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough...[pauses to remember the rest of the phrase]... the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! [runs out, alone; then returns]

Bluto: What the f*ck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you're gonna let it be the worst! "Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble." Well, just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this! Wormer, he's a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer—

Otter: Dead! Bluto's right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these b*st*rds. Now we could do it with conventional weapons, but that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.

Bluto: And we're just the guys to do it.

D-Day: Let's do it.

Bluto: LET'S DO IT!!