beck's noise

Saturday, May 2, 2009

The amount of crap I have is unbelievable.

I suppose if I had actually cleaned my room when I said I would (roughly two months ago), it would be long done by now, and I would presently be lounging across my bed, writing of the day's lazy adventures, or a splendid bike ride I had just returned from, instead of blogging about my uncanny ability to leave everything till the last minute.

And here I sit, lounging across my bed, writing a blog, while boxes threaten to explode, sending a shower of knick-knacks and other stuff across my floor. How I ended up on Beck's BackPack, who knows?

I feel almost like I'm sneaking over enemy lines, finding out the codes to their top secret stuff, the sense of capture looming in the air. Except instead of finding out top secret stuff, I'm writing about it, and instead of sneaking behind the enemy's backs, I'm actually sneaking behind my mother's back, who's been on MINE to get this room cleaned.

Yesterday I went to the lake with a bunch of the girls from school. We sat on the edge of the dock and drank fuzzy drinks and ate cheesy snacks. Our neighboring dock had been occupied by a bunch of guys that looked suspiciously like pirates, and reaked suspiciously of a substance that is all too popular in these here parts.

Enough said.

Anyways, the pirate men told us to quite ourselves a couple of times, to which I responded with an angry "YARRRRH", which they cowared beneath. Let this be a lesson: A) don't mess with me, and B) I speak pirate.

I think I might have been confused by past stories of "poop decks". In the tales, they never quite explain the reasoning behind the name. I found out last night.

I'm not quite sure if it's normal for pirates, or if they just had a little too much of the above substance, but nevertheless, one of them decided it was perfectly necessary for him to whip down his pants and take a poop... off the deck. They laughed amongst themselves as they watched it sink. Meanwhile, us girls are traumatized.

Well, you learn something new every day, yes? Poop deck is not the name of a platform on the ship that the 'skervy dogs' had to clean because no one liked them, it was actually a deck... that they pooped off of.

Now that this blog is sufficiantly awkward, I must go and return to the search for my floor. It's under here somewhere...