Trousers of Time

I'm tired of them. They hit me all the time. They don't let me think, sleep , study ,read ... (you get my drift).
Always pulling me away from what I'm doing, wasting my time.
They force me to go back in the past and look down the other leg, speculate and imagine.
Why don't they leave me alone, those bloody "What ifs".
P.S. : I'm not smart enough to make up that title, borrowed it from one of Terry Pratchett's books.


Favorite quotes (from books and such):

• He was highly strung as a harp on amphetamines.(Terry Pratchett)
  
• Give a man a fire and hes warm for a day, set him on fire and hes warm for the rest of his life.(Terry Pratchett)
  
• What do atheists scream when they come?(Bill Hicks)

To be continued.......

Harvest time

Harvest time again, chop chop , off goes my hair .
Board practicals from today, that is one of the reasons for the aforementioned calamity.
I hate writing like this, but i cant help it, just comes out the way it is. Growing hair is hard work.
Gotta fend off parents, teachers, gardeners et all to let it grow to an appreciable length, and then after approximately 3 months from the last haircut will come a somehow inevitable blow from below. Its either being sent home or the threat of flunking or even worse, making a bad impression. Dunno if this thing has a backdating feature, so i can post my past. hey, that sounds good.