Now that for two weeks I am rid of the tiring function of earning a living, I have decked my room to resemble Rasputin’s den of dark shadows and dank tea leaves, sans the debauchery naturally. I ain’t so lucky.
So here I am sulking in front of my PC in a dark room, trying to stoke the dying embers of creativity so that I can actually write something worthwhile, yet all I can think about is Kermit the Frog and how articulate and misunderstood he is. If all kids can speak like the green frog instead of taking after Elmo, won’t English teachers have less problems with their blood pressure?
This clip is a hoot.
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