Well, the uncontrollable Virginia Woolf puppet has gone and started a Blog of her Own, which I have nothing to do with. For now I think she's just complaining about mundane things, which is what she's best at. But keep yourself tuned in, she might just say something worthwhile.
Actually, scratch that.
We here at Arts Deux headquarters (NIZA) have often described our humor as "lowbrow jokes about highbrow topics". It's sad to see that what we find most amusing would probably only appeal to a small demographic of people. I can't really go into most places and start making jokes about the surrealists, silent films, or modernism versus postmodernism in order to get attention or, say, attract some comely nymph. Such is my lot in life--the literary vaudevillian.
I don't have much else to talk about today. My head is a bit swimmy because I am a bit sick; my ears and throat feel like they're on lockdown and I really hope that I don't have to take the elevator anywhere. A week from now I'll be home, and probably cleaning something. That's a nice thought.
Chances of snow Thursday and Friday, then rain for the rest of my stay in Vancouver!! Oh DAMN.
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