The funniest thing about this sentence is by the time you realize it doesn't say anything, it's too late for you to stop reading it, sucker!
So I'm sitting here, bored beyong all recognition and surfin' the web. I've blogged TWO entries in Norwegian and I feel my multi lingual bone quivering, begging to be used. So here ya go: a blog in a language I don't normally speak. Just to brag, that is.
So my assignment in school nowadays is to either choose a poem (they've listed two) or make one myself. So here goes, a poem brought to you by Toonoisy:
Spiders
The creepiest of creepy,
the nastiest of nasty.
They creep in your bed,
they land on your head.
You don't want them there,
and not in your hair!
Not on your shoulders,
jumping from boulders.
They plot in the night,
to give you a fright.
They land on your face
with way too much grace.
The spiders are here,
kindling your fear!
The eight legged freaks
gives me the creeps.
They do you no harm,
but still lack the charm.
I think you can tell:
I HATE THEM LIKE HELL!!!
Oh, and did I mention it? 'tis the season of the spiders here in Norway now. I see them everywhere, and I bet they all creep down to watch me sleep, plotting new schemes on how to catch me by surprise or run after me the next day. I bet they are, the evil EVIL spiders....
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