Emmett's articles
Sources have reported that Professor Alastair Prendergast failed 65% of his Clairvoyance 1300 class this past Wednesday, five weeks ahead of the final exam.
“As I gazed into the temporal rhizome, I saw a dark miasma hovering over the tests of certain students of mine,” said Prendergast, sitting languidly in an ornate wooden chair while reflecting upon the musings of his orb.
This past Thursday, sources have indicated that a local camel’s back was completely obliterated by a real monster of a straw.
“The second I saw that thing, I knew my camel was toast,” said Alex Simmons, a local camel owner who was preparing to store as many straws on his camel’s back as he could, one by one.
Sources are reporting this week that Bucky, the family dog of eight years, was seen tactlessly begging for food at an extremely emotionally charged family dinner.
“There is no way in hell you are getting custody over my children!” yelled Sarah Smythe at her future ex-husband, Darren, while Bucky rudely pawed her leg with a dumb grin on his face.
In recent news, a 30-year vow of silence at a local all-white monastery was nearly broken during the impromptu playing of “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond.
“It was like holding back a sneeze,” wrote Frank George Sr., a silent monk who had started a trend of knocking on the table during the “pum, pum, pum” part of the song.
As I sit here, idling my days away in the semi-comfortable embrace of my guitar stand, I have but one question to you, my owner: why? Why must you chain me here, day in and day out? You claim to “dabble,” so I hear, but when, pray tell, was the last time you “dabbled” with me? Recall our sweet duets of Riptide and Wonderwall? Don’t you remember those golden days, when you would play me for tens of minutes on end whenever you heard a song you sort of wanted to learn?
The subtle, maddening nature of isolation and unfulfillment is really starting to get to me.
Partly Cloudy, 64°
