This is not so random as just plain cool. 11! That's right! 11 Academy Awards for the Return of the King. Now it's just another couple hundred million to beat out Titanic! Go! Go! Go(Drinks on me! If I was of drinking age, had money, and was with you poor(or whatever) people)! Lord of the Rings rules all! For Gondor! (and you respond: )

Not for you!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm kind of curious about how many people actually read this thing. It seems likely that I am excerting enormous amounts of effort(as evident by the high quality of my posts and my limitless ego) for maybe a very small audience(which may only include me, and thus, well, I think it would mean that I am talking to myself, but I am actually writing and if I was talking, it wound't be anything new). This is one of those odd things, where I don't know if you are there, you don't know if I am here, and we blame Captain Barbossa for it all. Yeah, that would work. Of course, the it might be the French. Inventors of mayonnaise. 'I like mayonnaise.' And on, and on, till the end of the world, judgement day, trumpets sound. So there. Beat that! And make up a myth. Because I can, you can, we all can for Ice Cream. Riight. . .

Excuseeee me! Is this the bus to Tiparari? Or do it needs new peoples in its side? Odd things come, neither human nor animal. "Lord Otoko! Calm your fury!" Kudos to anyone who can tell me the movie. Of course, no one can actually tell me the movie, because there is no comment section. So, yeah. That's what I thought.

If I say I'm musing, as I do, does that mean I should call upon the muses? It seems likely to me that musing originates with the muses, and musing would still be within their realm. Of course, this all hinges on if they truly existed, which, givin the track record the Greeks had for 'being real', seems highly unllikely. So this just turns out to be musings on musings.

Some people right flaming long blogs. Or bloody long, if you're British. On they actually have content! I can barely write a paragraph of gibberish on a good day!

"Not you. We named the moniker Jack." "Cut! What in the world was that? I could not have found a less qualified person if I tried, but I didn't! By the light! How did I end up with you! You would think. . ."
The Transmission was lost there. We are sending an away team to learn more about the situation. Captain's log out.

Look! Three in one day! Amazing!

Wilitanr! Airlieo! Dierp daoe fie toa ioe! Asufoe aioje. A ie lier dom. Ormnbei freifni! Olirhanei! Mutiarks? Tykjasiei tomin a fredbin! Ilkinda chirn tow?! Oer a vrvn aga nbgawlgb qafhbhj gfl b nf asfbhsl i! I think I've vented now. While trying to do one of the few serious things I do, I got interepeted, angered, and had to vent, so all you poor people in la-la land get to read my venting and attempt to transalte the simple yet evil language.

Can I think and write at the same time? I mean, is that allowed? It's odd to try and discern between the independent thoughts and random(if not completely insane) ideas flowing through my cerebellum. Then again, it may just be my hippocampus interacting incorrectly with my corpus colosum, though my amigdala. Or maybe an overuseage of the Pons and Medulla Oblongata(which, as a mater of fact, has nothign to do with anger). From their it may have moved to the Parietal Lobe and been altered by the Wernicke's Area. If any of this makes sense, I have two things to say to you. 1: You know way too much about the brain, and 2: please tell me what I said. Thank you.

This is only because they have figure it out. I am not who you think I am, nor am I who I told you I am. You just think I am. So there. I lied to you! Hahahahaha! Now, back to your reguarly scheduled rantings.

Don't keep too open of a mind, or your brain just might fall out.

Gondor has no pants! Gondor needs no pants! Okay, no I stole that from somewhere and know not where. Round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows. This is my stop, though. So off of the bus do I come, unto a land torn asunder by war and famine. In this land shall I begin anew and forge a mighty alliance with which to retake my birthrite, Beleriand! So forth, to arms! To arms! We unite,a single banner, a single goal! Ready, all me fellow brethren, for today we fight!

I'm not sure my title is accurate. It all depends on the definition of Munchkin. See, if a munchkin is defined as a little man, or as someone with a high voice, I fail to meet those requirements. But if a munchkin is whateve I want it to be, then I would be a munchkin. Of course, in less I'm under oath in an illegal helium usage trial, then my failure to fit the definition of munchkin would be little more than hot air. Otherwise it would be prejury, and my next step would be to get elected president. Or maybe Supreme World Leader. Which ever involves less travel. Now the people here are getting on my case for saying Mad. The prefer the term Insane or, better yet, Mentally Unstable. Musings of a Mentally Unstable Munchkin. It has a certain, almost cultured ring to it, but isn't what I'm looking for. It might work if I was of the British Aristocracy or Royalty, but as it is, I'm a lowly peon, toiling in the fields. But, if a King ever did show up, I would look him straight in the eye and say: "But I didn't vote for you." Now they're telling me my computer time is up, and I have to go back to the room at the top of the stairs.

It's me again. Just the last person I wanted to see. Or something. Work, work, work. That's all I do when I'm not doing anything else. It's just driving me up the wall. Or down the spicket. Maybe through the door, around the corner, over the river and through the woods to. . .yeah. This is written to no man. Or everyman. Jederman auf Deutsch, ob sie Deutsch sprechen. And yet they call be mad. Mad! What do they know. Nothig. Thank's for agreeing with me. I wasn't. Excuse me? Agreeing with you. I wasn't. Yes you were. No I won't. You already did! Says who? Says me! But I can't trust you. You don't agree with me. Yeas I do! No, you don't! Fine, I'm going. Your Funeral. Bloody Pirates!

My bad. I'll also post whenever I forget what I am doing or need to vent the random-ness that is my minds spelling habits. Or if I just need to make fun of people I don't know. See what happens? See!!!!!!!!!!

This is the kind of thing that happens when you let people access the internet. Scary things. Mad munchinks with overdoeses of helium. Yep. Enjoy, or not. It doesn't really matter. I'll only post here when I am overdosed on school on other less than exciting activites, or if I'm very bored(and haven;t found any cows to tip).