The Orange

No not the basketball team, football team or the Lacrosse team. The cheerleaders, or the Grad program that hasn't given me the nod yet. I mean the Orange, The clockwork orange. Some folks would think it odd to see a reply to a reply to a post on a friends blog that said:

Welly, welly, well, Mr. Shaggy Bob.
You diserve a bit of the in-out in-out for that lovely find - real savage, of course.
Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarble, ya eunuch jelly thou!
Always a real kick and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultraviolence...

I laughed,
and lashed,
and viddied myself a Choodessny Chelloveck a Dorogoy droog to all my Oomny Shaika

... I immediately came to the realization that reading the Norton Anthology of American Literature 4th edition was just
"one in the yarbles, and I've got yarbles... Poogly Grazhny yarbles, to have a horrorshow guttiwuts Guff over.

I'm going to put down the anthology and pick up The English version of The clockwork Orange turn on some Ludwig Van and get me some ultraviolence.



CHEERS!