My Brain

Have you ever wondered what kind of garbage is constantly floating like silt on the waters of my mind? Let this be the answer. The following is the result of a late-night writing marathon for Dr. Thompson's Patristic Theology class last fall during which I lost control of my brain. Though I posted this elsewhere several months ago, I figured I would share it here too.

Augustine was a wee little man who liked to eat pudding from the bottom of a lily while strolling down Crunchberry Lane, all the while twirling and spinning and twirling some more. One day he ate a bumblebee. He also liked to get his hair combed in the shape of a frigate, his favorite of the seagoing vessels. Sometimes he would attach bells to the buckle of his boots so he’d jingle and jangle and bingle and gangle. He’d skip and prance like a gazelle just to hear the noise. “Fra la la, la la tee day!” he would say. Oh the merriment! Oh the extravagance! Oh the flatulence! Pelagius was jealous especially of Augustine’s flatulence and the attention of the ladies it earned him. The ladies regarded Augustine as highly as the players of fife and pale in the town of Razzlemuffin.