The Lonesome Death of Joe Alderaan
There was nothing particularly strange about this Thursday morning as Joe Alderaan, a chartered accountant from Newark, downed the last of his coffee and headed out the door to work. At least, not until he got outside, and found a giant mettalic orb filling the sky. Ironically the last thing that went through his mind was
Hamlet’s Daytimer
FRIDAY
2:00 P.M.
Fathers Funeral
Catch the 8:15 from Wittenberg for Dads Funeral
REMEMBER!! Send postcard to Ophelia (with words of so sweet breath composed as to make the postcard richer)
12:00 p.m.
Inherit crown, (Huzzah!)
1:00 p.m.
Rule Denmark (Double Huzzah!)
Funeral Speech??
What a grace was seated on this brow,
So long, Dad its my country now! (ha ha.)
The Underage Conundrum
Approach the Object of your desire and tunelessly state. “Hey, hey, you you” If she responds with “Get off of my Cloud” she is old enough to date, and also a Stones fan which is a plus. If she responds with “I don’t like your girlfriend”, she is not only underage, but also an Avril fan. Walk away immediately