Epic Procrastination

Why is it that whenever we have to do something involving physical exercise for a grade, I somehow contract an illness?
Is there perhaps some sadistic little man in a chair somewhere in my head who shuts down my immune system whenever he hears I'll be graded for something involving me running?
"Ah, we're doing the mile today, I see. Hey, is that H1N1?"
Paranoid, you say?
I think not. "Correct" would be a more appropriate adjective.
But, I digress.
I actually meant to post an epic picture of procrastination on here, but it is not showing up very well.
However, I cannot tell you about the picture and then not show you, for that would make me crueler than the tiny evil man who resides in my brain.
So, here you are.

Overall, this took about 6-7 hours to do. It's also somewhat difficult to type because of the massive carpal tunnel it induced. I quite like it though.

If you'd like a larger size, as it is quite difficult to see right now, you may see my DeviantART. (Shameless self-promotion, you say? Perhaps.)

That is all.

Adieu.

Huzzah for procrastination!

So, rather than researching for my history project (how I loathe you, U.S. history 2 honors), I have spent the afternoon doodling a rather smarmy looking gentleman.I like to think that he is a more-than-slightly inebriated young entrepreneur who is spending his evening at a rather dank pub, making eyes at any woman or effeminate-looking man (mind you, he is quite drunk.) that catches his fancy.
I did not draw the bartender, but I imagine him to be making an exasperated face at our unctuous young gentleman, which is silly because as a bartender, he has probably seen rowdier crowds than the likes of him.
Perhaps he's a new bartender. I am not quite sure.
In any event, this is my first procrastination from a project (but certainly not the last) for the new school year.
Truly it is a joyous occasion.
Anyhow, I should probably get working now.
Adieu.

I've got to wake up HOW early?

So, the first day is over and done with.
My creative writing class does not seem too terrible, but apparently we will have to write a one act play sometime during the year, which scares me a bit. I am not exactly Shakespeare. (Actually, the idea of being Shakespeare scares me even more than the fact that I'll have to write a play, simply because I cannot say I would be fond of being a bearded fellow who has been dead and buried for nearly 500 years. Though, I digress.)
Perhaps it is just the insecurity talking, but I tend to think that any play I would be able to come up with would be pretty atrocious.
Generally, the stories I write don't really have a solid plot, so rather than writing an epic tragedy about star-cross'd lovers, I would probably write a story about an impatient guy who goes to the post office and encounters a lonely mailman who is desperate to talk to someone.
The whole play would be their conversation, which I imagine would go something like this:

"Mail Man: Ah, so you've got some outgoing mail, I see.
Impatient Guy: Yes.
MM: It's always nice to get mail. It makes me feel important.
IG: (glancing at watch) Indeed it does.
MM: Of course, people don't send a lot of mail these days. They send those -what'chacall'em - electronic messages! See, back in my day, we didn't have anything like that. We had one mailbox in town and you had to walk 3 miles in the snow uphill both ways to get to it...." Etc.

Needless to say, any play I would write would be quite abhorent, which is why I'm a bit nervous. But I suppose I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.
Overall, the first day was pretty all right, and that is all I have got to say, so I shall bid you adieu this evening.
Adieu.

School's a-comin'.

So, it just so happens that I did not get any art classes this year.
Please do not misunderstand me, I did attempt to get one, but I was unfortunately thwarted by my music teacher who, yet again, guilted me into taking Instrumental Lab, so if you were hoping to see any drawings of a higher artistic quality than my Microsoft Paint stick figures and unrealistically sized angry-bees, then I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint you.
However, I was able to get a creative writing class, so perhaps you will be able to see, dare I say, even more cranium-explodingly amazing writing from yours truly. (Egocentric, you say? Whatever gave you that idea?)
I am somewhat depressed that summer is coming to an end, though.
It hardly seems as if I was able to do anything these past few months except get attacked by various insects.
It is indeed quite a shame, but I suppose that these sorts of things are bound to happen.
To me, anyway.
So, it is on that note I leave you, my dear blog readers.
One hopes that your summers were filled with less leggy anthropods than mine.
Adieu.