My mind is not functioning properly.
Yes, yes, I know what you're asking.
"Really? Does it ever?"As a matter of fact, it does function properly on occasion. Just not necessarily in a normal fasion. Facion. Fasoin. Fascion. Fashion.
Thank you. Alright. That thing. Fashion. See, case in point.
The English language is so dang inconsistent! I mean, really! In Spanish, if you know what sounds the letters make, you can sound out any word because it's always the same! Grrr... Stupid english.
But anyway. I've been up since five and I went to bed last night a little after twelve. Good times. (But 27 got even less sleep!)
I went to the Homecoming football game.
The beginning, anyway.
I almost fell off the bleachers, and everyone around me was taller. Even the people who were standing (we were all standing) on the bleachers ahead, several inches below. So I was in a weird little box. It was odd. I couldn't really see. But I sort of understand football, so that's good! And we revisited the site of my... accident... And it was incredibly loud at the game. Incredibly. They handed out these weirdie noisemaker thingies and everyone was screaming and cheering and I honestly couldn't even hear myself think. If I was thinking in the first place. My head, predictably, started to protest quite strongly. And luckily 27 is better at decision making and so we went to her house to watch Ocean's Twelve.
Yeah! George Clooney and Matt Damon and Brad Pitt in his awesome younger days!
But sad day, we didn't actually end up watching it.
It was still fun though. Playing at 27's house late at night is mashed potatoes!
Very, very entertaining. And they fed me good food, which is also quite a plus. Good food is good. Very good.
Anyhow, we entertained ourselves for quite some time and then I came home, which is where I am now. In my wonderful, swively chair.
Before I sat in my wonderful swively chair, though, I had to preform the customary "my siblings are having sleepovers with their friends, I must go bother them!" routine. The older two were lucky enough to be first. My sister highly objected to my presence and she opened a pen to prove it. The ink spurted all over me and my arms are now blue.
Another example of delirium: When you look down at blue stuff smeared all over your arms and have forgotten why you were going to wash it off, so you lick it to test.
My tongue is also blue. And it won't come off.
Back to home.
The younger two were next. I spoke to them for a moment and then went to half-heartedly attempt to remove the blue again. On my way back, I was informed by a higher power that the children needed to lower their volume. The older girls consented. The younger girls... Were less than thrilled.
Wiiide awake there.
"PLEASE don't make us be quiet!"
"I can't possibly sleep, how could I sleep?"
"Can't we go play upstairs or something?"
"PLEAAASE?"
So, I did what any rational being would do. I sat on the foot of their bed and made up a story.
What a wonderful story it was.
There was a kid named Joshua. Joshua Perkins. He was eleven (gotta play to the audience you have) with black hair and blue eyes and palish skin. He lived in Iowa. He lived on a farm in Iowa, so he had to get up early to wait for the bus. One morning, he got up like he always did, but this morning was special. It was the first morning of sixth grade. He stood by the bus stop and waited, until a pair of headlights came toward him...
Long story short, it turns out to be a freakin' awesome alien ship full of really small aliens with huge, pointy ears and white hair called the Jang. They need his help. So he is pressed into helping them, 'cause they're the last of their kind that hasn't been destroyed by the evil alien Zarr. Joshua goes with them to the planet and they exploit weaknesses to get rid of all the enemy ships except Zarr's. Somehow, Joshua sneaks on board and the guards can't see him. He confronts Zarr and accidentally bumps a button that calls up the portal to send Zarr and his ship back to their dimension.
Joshua barely gets away in time to see them be sent through.
The Jang thank him and take him home, where he arrives somehow just in time for the bus.
Of course, the whole thing was told in a very choppy, long-winded form like the beginning paragraph. It was about a half hour long and they were fast asleep by the time it was over. But I finished it anyway. It was strange. But I was really out of it, so I just kept going even though it was cliché and ... special. So that was interesting.
And then I went into my room and opened my computer and saw new pictures of Matt Bomer on his website!
That's not one of the new ones, but it's super nice anyway. The new ones are amaazing!
...but that's a story for another day.
I think I'd better get some sleep, or at least breathe deeply. Good night.
