The day in which I try to save slaves and play an Irish whistle

19 05 2007

It’s funny, because I tell people (and myself) that I am a morning person, yet I never wake up in the morning anymore. The only reason I see the sunrise is because I’m up late (or early) enough to see it. See, I would tell you I’m doing something really productive like writing an essay, reading, or saving kids in Africa or something, but really, I find myself doing nothing.

Anyways, I’m sidetracking. I want to tell you about slaves and Irish whistles. I woke up at 11 by the way.

About the slaves, well I own 40 of them…just kidding.

I only own 20.

Just kidding again, I own none. I know not having any slaves to do things for oneself seems really depressing. I know, i know, they can do this and that for you, I know! But deep down, I feel morally wrong about it, but if you feel that I should think otherwise, feel free to e-mail I’m just kidding about e-mailing me…Unless you have a really crazy argument, which I doubt you have. (and even if you do, which you probably don’t, I still wont buy a slave. I think.)

OK, OK (did you know the proper way to write ok is “OK” and not “ok”?) so I wasn’t contemplating buying a slave. I was trying to help stop the Hershey company from using child slaves in the Ivory Coast. I don’t know how much signing petitions in the U.S. will help children thousands of miles away, and I don’t particularly feel like I’ve done anything, but I hope I did. Every action leads to a reaction, right? I think I wrote that just to make myself feel like I made a difference. One day I’ll go to the Ivory Cost and save all the children. I haven’t worked out the logistics yet, but I will.

Aside from that, I am deeply saddened. Saddened because the chocolaty goodness that is a Hershey’s candy bar wont be part of my diet anymore. Oh, Nestle, too. No! Why did they have to go an use slaves to make their candy. I guess it could be worse. Like if the electric companies decided to use slaves to turn their turbines, and I wouldn’t use their electricity because they use slaves to turn their turbines.

That would be bad, I think.

I said I’d talk about an Irish whistle, also. Well, after watching Braveheart yesterday, I felt like I needed to play a bagpipe, or a flute or something. You know, to connect with my non-existent Scottish and Irish heritage. Well, bagpipes and flutes are really expensive, so I decided, why not try the Irish whistle. Because the whistle was a fraction of the price of the bagpipe or the flute, I decided it sounded better, too. (even though I didn’t know what it sounded like) I guess my title was a bit misleading because I haven’t actually got my whistle yet, but once I do, I’ll tell you all about how amazing and Gaelic is it. Deep down, I feel like if I learn to play it and learn to fight with a sword, I will become a warrior-poet, like Braveheart. After I receive my whistle and learn how to use a sword, I’ll tell you if I feel anymore warrior-poety.

Home, sweet home.

Farewell, I am off to battle.


P. (erfume) S. (craps) Anita wanted a shoutout. Does giving shutouts make my blog tackier?




2 responses

19 05 2007
Amanda Deliciousness

You are sooooo awesome. I am sooooo cute! *giggle*

I heart you!




19 05 2007


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