So Vonnegut died.
The man who gave this blog its name without so much as batting an eyelid, stitched his shut for good. But then, like he told us, all things living and otherwise, are only coincidental.
I, and here i speak for all the Tralfamadorians (I push for this to be the name of Our Clan, in all solemn spirit), only hope he is in a better place. And exchanging notes with Mark Twain.
On a completely radically different note, i wanted to tell you all (look how insanely optimistic i have gotten) about this classmate of mine that has a royal crush.
Which keeps dying. (So it goes)
And keeps springing back to life,
thus influencing her moods rather visibly.
The story of The Malabar (almost) Princess and her (coco)nutso-ness about The Man Who Would Be King, follows in a few days.
So, wait.
With breath that is bated.
(Oh come on, cut me some slack)
But, not to digress from the reason for abusing bandwidth.
Kurt Vonnegut Jr., R.I.P.
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4 comments:
bebby!
there is action on your blaag!
and, write The Story fastly, please?
scribbled is barren, btw.
What is the divine bovine cat-calling all about? I do not understand.
Are you sure you have posted on the right blog?
Ooh.
I awaits your story.
Maybe not with bated breath but with some bum shifting to make myself comfortable.
Oops.
Unstable mindstate led to a rant again.
Sorry!
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