The worst spy you've never heard of.

It occurs to me that I've been seriously slacking on blogging and story-writing.
SO, in order to rectify this, I'll post this lovely part of a story that I am working on with a good buddy o' mine.

Adrian Harper is probably the worst spy you've never heard of. Mr. Harper works for a tiny agency downtown which is cleverly disguised (at least, the head of the agency thinks it's pretty clever...) as a bakery. They used to use the baked goods they sold as means to spy on their customers, who, according to Adrian, were almost always enemy agents. Adrian oftentimes placed micro-cameras into the chocolate chip cookies, but the cameras were always destroyed by the customer's molars and stomach acid before they got to record any possible suspicious activities. The customers usually came back, brandishing both hospital bills that needed to be paid and the middle finger. The idea was quickly scrapped and Adrian was smacked upside the head for being slightly more stupid than usually. He deeply regrets ever listening to Adrian in the first place about that idea, and for weeks afterward, you could hear him grumbling to himself and kicking potted plants over.

That's it so far. :I
So, that is all for today, yes.
Adieu.

I have far too many Castlevania soundtracks on my iPod for not having even played a single game from the series.

I'm having a difficult time getting motivated to post anything.
In fact, I'm only really writing something right now in order to keep the spambots from piling up too many comments.
I wonder why those darling spambots decided to grace me with their presence, anyhow.
Did they look at my blog and think, "You know, this place is pretty nice, but I think some links to porn websites would really spruce things up a little."? I think that about certain blogs from time to time.
Or maybe I just have so many loyal readers visiting my blog, they felt that it would be an excellent place to get some views for their various websites dedicated to the erotic arts? < /sarcasm>
I can't say I know.
I wonder if other blogs have this problem. Maybe all of them do, only they're much more efficient at deleting the comments before the sheer numbers reach biblical proportions.
Also, on an unrelated note, I seem to have misplaced my old creative writing binder. Which really is a shame, because I had a bunch of unposted writing prompts and stories that I had yet to post up on here.
Perhaps if I find it, I shall treat my lovely spambots to some new stories.
Well, that's it for today.
Adieu, lovely spambots.

Doodlin's.

You would be amazed at the things you'll find in old history folders.
I found a bunch of ridiculous doodles I drew when I should have been taking notes.
The most disturbing of which being this:
Ignore the random "m," as I drew this on my history study guide and was too lazy to crop out all of "communism."
I did a lot of disturbing little doodles like this'un, I just felt this was the best of them all.
Anyhoo, I think that is probably enough to give all of you poor souls nightmares when you go to bed tonight, so, out of pity, I shall bid you adieu, sweet Blog.

Summer, yes.

Summer is here.
However, unlike any normal person with half a brain and access to an accurate calendar, I do not determine this by the date, but rather by the amount of insects that get into my home.
For instance, this morning, a stink bug fell onto my face, so, therefore, after a fairly reasonable amount of screaming and wild face-clawing, I was able to determine that summer was indeed here.
Although, I still find myself unable to determine whether or not the extra hours I get to sleep in are worth the persistant plethora of pests that parade themselves across my person in the wee hours of the morning.
Who am I kidding, of course it's worth it. It does not make it any less unpleasant when I find myself nose-to-thorax with a hideous insect, though.
Oftentimes, I wonder what makes my house so appealling to insects. With the amount of cats, dogs, and creepy-crawly loathing persons living in this home, you'd think they wouldn't find it to be a very welcoming environment to settle in. In fact, on more than one occasion, my father has been referred to as the Raid-toting Rambo, but yet they still insist on barging their way underneath door cracks and through windows solely for the purpose of crawling my face at night and, after the cats have had their fun with them, leaving their own dead carcasses on the floor for me to sweep up.
I'll never understand it.
So, if anyone who is an insect or perhaps has a talking insect friend (preferably named Raoul or Paulo, because those are awesome names) could provide me with some insight into the bug mind, I'd be much obliged.
All right, that's enough for this evening.
Adieu to all.

DUCKS.

Right, so, being that I've not posted in a month, I feel kind of obligated to update. However, unfortunately, although not surprisingly, I really don't have a whole lot to say.
So, instead of writing something significant, I shall post a picture of some lovely plastic ducks for all to enjoy.
Yes, ducks in uniform. Despite having a rather distinct naval theme, none of them can actually float. Go figure.
And on another, non aquatic-fowl-related note, I have offically finished my term paper. Not that I mentioned having a term paper to any of you, (see first sentence regarding my not having posted in a month) but I'm sure you'll be happy to know that it's done.
It's not particularly good though, mind you, but then again, my term papers never are. They generally end up being about 10 and a half pages of caffeine-induced drivel with ten-line block quotes on every other page.
Oh well. At least I cited it properly.
Anyhoo, I should think that's about enough for this evening.
Adieu, dear Blog.

Summer's a-comin'.

I'm so glad summer's coming. I am entirely too tired of thinking.
The time is nigh, dear Blog, to allow my brain to dissolve into a pile of mushy goo due to severe lack of use, and to remain indoors for weeks on end.
Of course, on the other hand, I probably should try and make this summer at least somewhat significant, as the number of summers I've got left are dwindling rapidly.
Perhaps I should go to the beach, or band camp, or some other place that will get me involved in a plethora of wacky teenage hijinks. Not that I particularly want to get involved in adolescent shenanigans, but it does seem like the proper summer thing to do.
Or maybe, rather than go cow tipping or whatever it is my fellow young adults do when practicing tomfoolery, I could actually do writing exercises more often, as opposed to being a procrastinating lump all day, which is usually the norm for me.
Perhaps I could even update my Blog more regularly. (Pfft, that's not going to happen.)
Anyhoo, I think that shall be all for this evening.
Adieu, dear Blog.

Thoughts 'n' Things.

Being that I always spend so much time inside of my own head, I always find myself curious as to what other people are thinking.
For instance, why was the older gentleman I saw on the bus the other day scowling at that bag of apples? Was it because they were over-ripe and he didn't notice when he picked them out at the supermarket? Were they plagued by a colony of earthworms? Or was it because he believed they could speak and that they were currently saying rude things about his rather overgrown eyebrows? I honestly do not know.
I also often wonder if people have the same general thought process that I do.
Would most people find themselves pondering over the dilemma of the old man and the apples? Or would most people go, "Hmm. That elderly fellow looks quite annoyed at his fruit. I think I'll look elsewhere now."?
And how is one "easy to read"? I find myself utterly unable to pick up on if someone has had a bad day or not.
Granted, yes, I can perceive the fact that someone might be annoyed after, say, having their forehead poked for the 100th consecutive time, but I find the little emotions to be difficult to distinguish.
But, ah well.
I suppose I'll just be glad that I do think. I've found thinking, or at least thinking before one speaks, to be a rather rare thing at my school.
So, then, I shall bid you good evening, dear Blog.
Adieu.