Irony

I had often thought (and been too lazy) to post again in recent weeks... months, rather. I always had a great idea to go with it. Ironically, the one time I actually get the gumption to blog-inate (I'm now determined to make that a word), I have nothing* to write about. (*about which to write.) I'm just trying to squander some minutes before I feel ready to continue working on my rather cumbersome music assignment. But, oh, I suppose there is a lot to catch up on.

School's started up again. I've been taking to the habit of working in 4-hour naps every Saturday. (except for yesterday, but I'm probably going to collapse for four hours sometime this week to make up for it. Hopefully not during class.) Also, got some teeth pulled. And then had to go back to the doctor four days later when I woke up to a nasty socket that wouldn't stop bleeding. I'll have to write on that sometime; I have yet to document it fully. It's a good story.

All right, that's enough for now. I'm too tired to care about words at this point. Eh, words. Who needs 'em? Even Hamlet had a problem with them. (Words words words, he said. He must have been bored at the time.) I think Hamlet would never have gotten himself into trouble if he had been a scrawny, nerdy kid who played video games in the castle basement with his buddy, Horatio. And then Ophelia would have been embarrassed to be seen around him, so she would be ok. And Hamlet's mom would be that awesome mom who baked cookies for her son and all his buddies after school. And Hamlet's dad, the king, would use his wife's magical oatmeal rasin cookies to win over diplomats and politicians alike. Nobody would ever want to kill him, in that case. Therefore, Hamlet would never have to avenge him. Eventually, Ophelia, won over by mom's awesome gingersnaps, would start to find it socially-acceptable to talk with "Hammy." (They would later get married and settle in a nice, comfortable kingdom in Sweden somewhere. Ophelia would run a bakery on the side.) Rosenkratz and Guildenstern would, well, still be dead, but only from a fierce allergic reaction to sugar cookies (But nobody liked them, anyway.) Laertes would take over a small island off the coast of Norway, Horatio would later become a door-to-door salesman, and they all would live happily ever after. All thanks to cookies and videogames. Now that's a moral if I ever saw one.

There ought to be a movie about that. "Hamlet: A Comedy involving Cookies." I would watch it.