Wednesday, January 19, 2011


When I was in fourth grade, we had this reptile handler come to our school.
Being that us elementary students were not nearly important enough to have our own auditorium, we all sat on the floor in front of him on the gym/lunch room/all-purpose room floor.
The handler came out, holding a baby crocodile up high, so the kids in the back could see.
While he was off prattling random facts about the crocodile species, using large words no one understood and stating things about the crocodile family no one cared about, all of the sudden, it unleashed a torrential downpour of urine. It just kept coming and coming. Nobody said a word, neither the kids nor the handler. There was only the sound of urine splashing, droplets hitting the children unfortunate enough to be in the front row.
The only thought that was in anyone's mind, (except, perhaps, for those in the front row, thinking something along the lines of, "I wonder if crocodile urine comes out. I've never really needed to know this information until now.") was "I had no idea a creature's bladder could possibly contain so much."
Eventually, after what seemed like ages, the waterfall ceased.
Everyone continued to be quiet, not really registering what had just happened.
Teachers exchanged looks, unsure of what to do or say in this situation. Understandable, really, it's not something the teaching handbooks much covered. The handler continued to stand there, holding the crocodile at a somewhat awkward angle, facial expression showing both disgust and embarassment, as if he had been the one urinating all over the gym floor/children, not the crocodile.
He was the first to speak, saying, "Well! At least he won't have to go for a while now!" with an uncomfortable little titter.
The teachers joined in, awkward laughter ringing throughout the gymnasium. The children chimed in as well, figuring any bodily function to be amusing, and the show continued on as normal. After a short while, a janitor walked in with a mop, cleaning up the considerable amount of urine, and we all returned to our classrooms.

This event is one of the many reasons why I am what I am today. Had that overgrown lizard not done what it had done on that fateful day, I could be an entirely different person.
Somethin' to think about.
Anyhoo, that's enough for today.
Adieu, blog!

Sunday, January 2, 2011


So, I've recently acquired my driver's license.
I suppose it should be a good thing, but really, all it has been doing is making me feel old.
I can't imagine why, considering that a piece of plastic with an unfortunately unflattering picture of myself is not a magical aging device that sucks the immaturity out of a person, but I feel like perhaps it has. Or rather, it should.
I feel as if someone with a driver's license, job, checking account, debit card, etc., should not still be laughing, and quite hard I might add, at the word "duty."
I feel like, at this point in my life, I should be a bit more, I don't know, grown-up. But I'm not.
Although, I am led to believe that it is often not a bad thing to be young at heart. I can't imagine what it would be like to write if my sense of humor was not nearly as childish and silly as it is now.
And, were I to listen to Spongebob, adults have to grow sideburns and acquire a taste for freeform jazz, which hardly sounds fun at all, so I think it would be a fine idea to remain immature for a while longer.
Anyhoo, I think that is about all I have to say for today.
Adieu, all.