| Why did the chicken cross the road? Hemingwayish response: To die. In the rain. Obviously the poor chicken was subjected to my Rhetoric class. "The word Bawk is singular and must be used with the singular form of the verb Cluck." It'll make any chicken worship Colonel Sanders. It is no wonder. I develope a new appreciation of Hemingway's style of writing of not following the most basic grammatical rules such as using fragments and run ons quite frequently in his novels. "Waa. Waa. Waa." The pompous version of Charlie Brown's teacher goes on. And on. And on. And on. The clock goes slowly. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. 60 minutes. 30 minutes. 10 minutes. 5 minutes. Ah, to be drunk. Ah, to be in war. I feel like I am both, drunk and at war. Not that I have been drunk. Or at war. But this, this must be what it feels like. That's why I don't drink or go to war. Finally! The hour and twenty minute eternity is over. It's nap time! First let me check my email. MSN...nothing. School..Oh Goody. She sent more vocabulary. |