Gilligan( sort of)

So, it was brought to my attention that my last post title was a little iffy. I apologize if anyone thought I was being mean. Really, I just couldn't think of a better title. Anyway, I'm running out of time so I'll got down something for Gilligan's Journal and say good day.

It's been nearly a week and they still haven't learned anything! It's maddening! Well, I have foiled more attempts to get off the island then I thought possible in only one week. How can that professor do that? It shouldn't be possible. Well, perhaps if I observe him more closely I can discover what makes him tick. Ack! Here comes Skipper. I'll write more when this last attempt fails.

Gilligan
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Hope it's ok,
Lil Bit
(accidently reverted it to a draft. oops!)

Whatever

So, I was browsing my page's overview, and I just now found out how many pageviews I had when I was posting almost regularly. So... I just wanted to send out a message to those who had been coming to my page. I'm going to try posting more often again and I know it may noty be the same people cominmg around to read my posts, but all the same, I'm gonna try stepping it up a notch. Now that  have said that, I have nothing more to talk about. I don't have any insperation for Gilligan's Journal and there is next to nothing for me to rant about so I shall say farewell and sign off.

Later with something a bit more interesting,

Lit Bit

Ranting and Gilligan's Journal part two

Ok, so, you know when you can't stop moving and you talk really fast and you just can't stop? That's me today. So, in order to get me to slow down a little, I have decided that this quiet block shall be a writing block, but not in the usual sense. Also, we had a guy from London, who was obviously from England, come and talk to us this morning, so I randomly start talking with an English accent that is probably atrocious, but there you go. Now! Gilligan's Journal returns!

It has been another three days and they are still arguing about how to get off the island. They're shouting again, the skipper and the professor. Skipper seems to think that the professor is simply holding out on us. Oh how wrong my angry companion is. I am why they cannot agree on those plans. I have decided that we are not leaving until Skipper can sit quietly for ten minutes, the lady can gather food for a day, the millionaire can forget about material wealth, and the fashionistsas can think about something other than the human body. I also want the professor to realize that just because he is smart, there are some things he cannot do on his smarts nor his strength alone. If there is but one among us who needs to learn, we shall stay. So have I declared. We shall be searching the island tomorrow, and I shall disappear after everyone else has left, forcing the lady to take care of herself. I wonder how she shall react? Once again I feel like I am treating them like lab rats in a maze that I am constantly changing. How sad, that I have been brought to this. Tomorrow night I shall attempt to write more on this fascinating subject.

Gilligan
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Hope ya'll enjoyed it! I'll write more when I get inspiration.
Lil Bit

Gilligan's journal part one(finally!) and random rants

Actually... that title is backwards but I'm too lazy to fix it. Sorry it's taken me so long to get this going again, I tend to blank out, forget when I said I'd do something (computer related)and not show back up for a couple of days... or weeks... so yeah. But, I'm back before I take my shower and head off to a rehearsal for a thing in the next town over. So, without further ado... Gilligan's Journal!!!

It has been two days since we set out on our three hour tour. I feel a little bad about deliberately crashing into the rocks but... this is such a beautiful island and these people all need to learn a few things about getting along and how to treat others. I've put up with Skipper, who's real name I've never really heard, for many years and have wanted to do this for almost as long. All our passengers until now didn't deserve it. Now, however, we have a prideful professor, a greedy millionaire and his lazy wife, a fashionista who acts a little like one of the girls who works in the back room of a bar, a fashionista wannabe, and of course my angry friend. For the first day, all they did was yell at me. Understandable, completely understandable, but their words cut deeper into my conscience then they might have guessed. Then as night fell, I secretly placed large palm leaves and coconuts near the professor. Luckily, he noticed and called the rest of us over. 'We can use palm leaves and coconut fibers to build us some houses,' he said. I nodded to myself and waited a moment to see what they would do next. Thinking back... it feels a little like I was treating them like rats in a lab, feeding them something and seeing how they reacted. They got enough palm leaves down for one house, they being the skipper and the millionaire, while the professor told me how to get the long fibers off the coconut's shell. I listened intently, perhaps more than he thought, and helped weave the fibers into the leaves. If the others had paid attention, they might have wondered at what I was doing. No one ever suspects me; it's why I'm still alive. The next day, they were a little amazed that the houses were still standing.
'Why don't we look for some food instead of admiring the scenery?' I called out,  changing my voice to sound like the millionaire, who was still sleeping. they all agreed and off we went, or most of us. I stayed behind to wait for the last two members of our little band to waken. Once they did, I told them where the others had gone. The man decided to lend a hand, but his wife held me back and demanded that I sever her while her husband was off in the woods. I sighed heavily on the inside, but agreed amiably, as is my wont. I write this as I sit beside the dieing embers of our camp fire. the moon shines brightly over head and is reflected back by the pure white sand. The waves lap quietly against the shore and I can feel myself being lulled to sleep by their gentle, rhythmic splashing. Ah! But my mother was right! I am a man of the sea and nothing shall keep me from it. Should I be forced to retire from sailing, I would like to live on an island or at the very least on the coast where I can still gaze upon the ocean's shining face. The professor approaches; it is time for his shift. I shall write once more when I have more data about these people I have stranded.

Gilligan
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Hope you like it! i may not post again for some time but at least I wrote this for you all.
Later!
Lil Bit

My dad is bad(but he's really a great guy... )

Ok so, first my dad comes in my room shaking a can of spray paint... that right there is 'bad' on it's own right? Well... (maniacal laughter issues from your monitor and swirls around the room) then he comes in with something behind his back. I get nervous and am already putting my laptop down, when he sprays my feet. For a moment I think 'He actually spray painted my feet!' but then I look down and see that they aren't pink. Add the fact that it doesn't smell bad and it obviously wasn't spray paint. So then I start thinking 'Hey wait... what did he spray me with?'... then he holds up a spray can and says, 'Lysol!' with a goofy grin on his face. I squeaked and started saying 'Bad! Bad!' in a high pitched voice. Yeah... I've actually practiced it. So I wipe my feet off a little and then chase him back to the laundry room and start beating on his shoulder as hard as I could, which really isn't that hard. Then hew grabs my hands and I start head butting him as much as I can. Then I go to mom and try to get her to tell Dad off, but she had her 'go away I'm busy watching this fascinating show' face on so I left pretty quickly. So, to sum up; Dad scares me, I squeak, I chase him, I hit him, we both laugh, mom ignores us, I go back to my room to tell you about it, drink water, and I have a minor head ache from trying to beat up my dad. Ah parents... you simply have to love them.

I really love my dad, so don't let the title make you think I'm a bad daughter who hates her father and thinks he's a bad guy. He's just... sarcastic and has a... different sense of humor. The kind of humor that involves spraying your daughters feet with Lysol while she's playing on her laptop.

Later!
Lil Bit

A Sunny Brainwave

Ok, so, it's Sunday the fifth of February and church has just got out. Our pastor used Gilligan's Island as an illustration today, and I got a different viewpoint than what Pastor used. He said that the passengers and the skipper were the seven deadly sins and Gilligan himself was the captor, the devil. I see it another way. They are the sinners and Gilligan is the deliverer who simply uses an unorthodox method to teach them valuable lessons. Now, all I have seen of Gilligan's Island is the Veggietales version which is about as heavily modified as my own version is likely to be. But, here's what I want to do. I want to use this blog as a portal into that universe and turn it into Gilligan's Journal for a few days, or possibly weeks depending on how it goes. It won't be the best I could do, but it is like a journal where everything just kinda flows, but I hope I can get my point across. Another thing that hit me today was, a friend of mine told me she had an idea for a play and she wanted to do it for Easter. So, over Spring break, that's probably what I will be doing in the after noon. I just need to feverishly work on the script until then and I am going to need amazing focus... for me... oh whatever! Pray, please. Pray.

So... there is my sunny brainwave. I may have my first Gilligan's Journal entry up sometime tonight. Until then, sayanora!

Lil Bit