Hi! I felt that I needed to address you guys. (ok, Vicky, you will live on 45th avenue, SSSB, 13th way, and Norski, we'll put you on Maple street).I needed to confess something. Well, not really a confession, more of a, I'm just going to tell you guys kind of a thing. I'm a stuffed animal lover. I would rather have a stuffed animal than the latest pop CD any day. They all have names (seriously, who doesn't?), and personalities. When I'm bored, which has been happening more and more frequently lately, I imagine scenarios and stuff for them. Yes, I know it sounds weird but what else am I going to to? Work? HA! Just kidding, but one needs to use their imagination occasionally, or else they end up working for the IRS and be those old people who do tedious jobs like picking individual dust particles out of stuff. My short attention span could never handle such a- ooooooOOOOOooo... shiny metal.. And another thing, I honestly don't understand why people are so exited to be apart of the life were you are the perfect example of the business man/woman wearing a suit and hat, and shining smile, carrying your briefcase and walking through the door saying "Honey, I'm home!" Now, I'm not saying this is a bad thing, we need a working class so old adds can advertise for good home cooked-style meal add ons that the wife brings out, but it isn't all that fun. Your gums would get sore from smiling like that all day. It's a lot of fun to be immature. Water balloons, books with lots of pictures, whoopee cushions, lollipops, squirt guns, stuffed animals, coloring outside the lines, all have been forgotten. They sometimes return during the summer, but then fade away. But you can stop it! Only you can prevent maturity! Ok, maybe not the best idea, but at least give 15 minutes a day, 30 on the weekends, to being silly, dorky, and childish. Oh! and on a completely unrelated topic, Palla (the dancing cow), has created a blog. Now, she's not going to post (have you ever tried typing with hooves?). She has agreed to put in cool pictures and artsy stuff that would take up a lot of room on my blog. You can click here, or here, but don't click here. I'll let you look now so bye!
Wednesday, January 28
Immaturity is the fastest road to happiness, but causes one to swerve off the road..
Hi! I felt that I needed to address you guys. (ok, Vicky, you will live on 45th avenue, SSSB, 13th way, and Norski, we'll put you on Maple street).I needed to confess something. Well, not really a confession, more of a, I'm just going to tell you guys kind of a thing. I'm a stuffed animal lover. I would rather have a stuffed animal than the latest pop CD any day. They all have names (seriously, who doesn't?), and personalities. When I'm bored, which has been happening more and more frequently lately, I imagine scenarios and stuff for them. Yes, I know it sounds weird but what else am I going to to? Work? HA! Just kidding, but one needs to use their imagination occasionally, or else they end up working for the IRS and be those old people who do tedious jobs like picking individual dust particles out of stuff. My short attention span could never handle such a- ooooooOOOOOooo... shiny metal.. And another thing, I honestly don't understand why people are so exited to be apart of the life were you are the perfect example of the business man/woman wearing a suit and hat, and shining smile, carrying your briefcase and walking through the door saying "Honey, I'm home!" Now, I'm not saying this is a bad thing, we need a working class so old adds can advertise for good home cooked-style meal add ons that the wife brings out, but it isn't all that fun. Your gums would get sore from smiling like that all day. It's a lot of fun to be immature. Water balloons, books with lots of pictures, whoopee cushions, lollipops, squirt guns, stuffed animals, coloring outside the lines, all have been forgotten. They sometimes return during the summer, but then fade away. But you can stop it! Only you can prevent maturity! Ok, maybe not the best idea, but at least give 15 minutes a day, 30 on the weekends, to being silly, dorky, and childish. Oh! and on a completely unrelated topic, Palla (the dancing cow), has created a blog. Now, she's not going to post (have you ever tried typing with hooves?). She has agreed to put in cool pictures and artsy stuff that would take up a lot of room on my blog. You can click here, or here, but don't click here. I'll let you look now so bye!
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8 comments:
You know, my cousin actually works for the Norwegian IRS, which I'll admit is pretty different from whatever you Canadians have, but he's pretty cool. He speaks French fluently and owns over thirty pairs of Chuck Taylors, all of them different colors. So the SSSB might like him. He's a bit of a free spirit. So you know, you can work hard and still be childish and have fun. Plus, you have a lot more to eat when you have a boring job. Always a plus. But that's me, the boring, mature, somber Norski up here in the dark and cold. :-)
JAH! converse shoes rule! (black ones are the best, though)
Oh-oh-oh, if any of you have seen Marley&Me, in the wise words of Sebastian, "Because I'm immature." My friends and I have decided that if we don't have a great answer to something that's what we say. Yeah... you should try it..
-Immature Agent Zu
Hey! I am proud to say i was the first follower of palla the dancing blog! yay!
but i live on Fällenälter Rd.
I'm re-addressing you
umm, royal dork, you just took away my idea for the videos on lejo... now i can't use it one mine....
Doesn't the answer to the train question depend on what kind of ice cream the train is holding?? :-D
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