Under My Umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)

We may never be sure what actually happened last night. I just walked into Mark's room, he's crouched on the floor next to a pile of rubber gloves, trash bags, and books. He looks up at me, and says verbatim, "Who's French book is this?"

We should probably return those.

It's raining... ooh baby it's raining raining

And Jo fell on our quest to, from, back-to, and back-from Redstone. Not to worry, I bandaged her up and she's good as new.

On my way home I'm going to reflect on my liquid-hot-magma-filled-volcano of ideas.

Peace&Love