Berry Smoothies

Death of a Martian is now my favourite song for a while. It's about one of the RHCP guys' dog that died, but I'm not sure whose it was... it's kinda sad... specially considering the saddish RHCP songs tend not to sound that sad unless you listen to them. This one sounds sad without listening to the lyrics. But yeah.

So! Squee! You guyses! Madeleine says she can scan the back two pages of my English book and maths book! Yay! Then I can post em up here, and you guys can see why I never get any work done at school.

Got my progress report back t'day. Satisfactory achievement for everything except Outdoor Ed, which doesn't count anyway, and I got a borderline rather than unsatisfactory, anyway. Satisfactory effort/achievement for everything except maths and outdoor ed, which were borderline. Apparently a concern for both those teachers is my "lack of positive involvement in class"... hehe... Well, once I get my scribble pages up, you'll be able to see why.

We had some random Bundah College Japanese teachers round in the Japanese lesson today, they seemed really nice, but I'm going to Canberra, not Narrabundah, so. And I won a little pretty fabric thing for getting questions right, watashi wa tensai kara des. "Cause I'm a genius". And the student teacher type lady, Hogan-sensei asked for the url of this blog, so Hey miss, if you end up checking this out, hello =P

Ooh, my spit is purple... berry smoothie!

So yeah... nothing much up. Jess and I got these awesome seats on the bus, and like, comfiness to teh max.

We had Ms Sharma for English, and the funny thing is she can hardly speak English herself, so she just went and sat at her desk and let me scribble in my book. But she wouldn't let me listen to music. Grr...
Science was in the library, so I sat around and listened to Madeleine's music with her and Jared, and we sat round the computer and generally looked at random stuff like my blog and these random comic things of Madeleine's... cept Jared ran away then, hehe.

Yeah, not much going on. 'm feeling pretty good, apart from missing Someone rather more than I perhaps should... mm. I can sort of ignore that for a while, and while I'm ignorig it, I can feel pretty good.

I'm gonna post the lyrics to Death of a Martian, cause it's awesomeness. They're not quite right, but I couldn't be bothered fixing them. On second thoughts... I fixed them a little, but not too much, cause I'm lazy.
Voila:

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Bear paws and rascal power
Watching us in your garage
Big girl you ate the neighbor
The nova is over
Wake up and play
By the radio
Make room for Clara's bare feet
The love of a martian

Tick tock and waiting for the meteor
This clock is opening another door

Lots of love just keep it comin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know how to say
Losin' what I love today
These are the best that I
Lots of love just keep it comin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know what to say
Look at what I lost today
And these are the things that I

Blood flowers in the kitchen
Signing off and winding down
This martain ends her mission
The nova is over
She caught the ball
By the mission bell
Chase lizards bark at donkeys
The love of a martian

Let's bow our heads
And let the trumpets blow
Our girl is gone
God bless her little soul

(She's got the sword in case
Though this is not her lord incase
The one who can't afford to face
Her image is restored to grace.

Disappeared.
No trace.
Musky tears.
Suitcase.

The down turn brave
Little burncub bearcareless turnip snare
Rampages pitch color pages...
Down and out but not in Vegas.
Disembarks and disengages.
No loft.

Sweet pink canary cages plummet pop dewskin fortitude
For the sniffing black noses that snort and allude
To the dangling trinkets that mimic the dirt cough go drink its.
It's for you.

Blue battered naval town slip kisses delivered by duck
Muscles and bottlenosed grifters arrive in time to catch the late show.
It's a beehive barrel race.
A shehive stare and chase wasted feature who tried and failed to reach her.
Embossed beneath a box in the closet that's lost.
The kind that you find when you mind your own business.
Shiv sister to the quickness before it blisters into the newmorning milk blanket.
Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch bunny whose bouquet set a course for bloom without decay.
Get you broom and sweep the echoes of yesterday's fallen freckles... away...)
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