I have been tagged by the ever-amazing Liam, Head Phil. I’m not sure whether to consider this an award or just something that happens, but either way, thank you!
The Rules
~You must post the rules
~Post eleven facts about yourself on the blog post
~Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
~Tag eleven bloggers, however, you can break the rules and tag fewer people if you want. Make sure you hyperlink their names/blogs.
~Let them know you’ve tagged them!
~Have fun!
All righty. Here are the eleven facts about yours truly.
- My favorite type of weather is fog.
- Every six months or so I get obsessed with a new fandom. Currently, that fandom is Homestuck.
- To that effect, I am currently wearing a Homestuck hoodie. It has a red gear on it and it is very comfortable.
- Right now, I should either be working on an English project or cleaning my room–probably both.
- I love braids. My hair is just getting long enough to be able to braid again, much to my delight.
- My most prized possession is a pair of vintage welding goggles which I bought in an antique shop in Idaho.
- My favorite font at the moment is Courier New.
- It’s raining outside my secret lair (aka my bedroom).
- At my high school, we’re allowed to eat lunch wherever we want. My friends and I eat in the combination math/music room every day.
- My favorite color is black. My least favorite color is bubble-gum pink.
- I enjoy going for walks alone, particularly to the library or cemetery.
Now, here are the questions set out for me.
- Pirates, ninjas, knights, or dragon riders? Dragon riders.
- If you could live in any time period (in the past) other than your own, what would it be? The Victorian era, preferably in England.
- Do you like reading or writing prose or poetry best? Prose, definitely, though I am partial to the Romantic poets.
- Pepsi or Coke? Bleugh–neither! Soda makes me gag.
- Where do most of your ideas (good or bad) for writing come from? I get loads of good ideas during history class.
- What’s your favorite mood? (To be in, or to write about, or anything.) My favorite mood to be in is happy for no apparent reason. My favorite mood to write about is melancholy, or maybe ennui.
- Grey or gray? I use the two interchangeably. I think I usually write it with an “e,” though.
- What makes you happy? New music, my friends, Tumblr, chocolate, and waking up in the morning and realizing it’s Saturday.
- If you could have a big red button for anything from ordering pizza to turning on your TV to instant world domination, what would it be for? As much as I would like to say “world peace” or something to that effect, if given the option to have such a button, I would make it bring to life whatever fictional character was in my head at the moment. Hopefully it could be used multiple times.
- Cats, dogs, or aardvarks? Aardvarks.
- If you could shorten or lengthen the list of questions and things about yourself for this tagging thing, how many things would you want? Seven. Seven is a good number.
Now, here are my questions:
- Say you had to move to another country and stay there for the rest of your life. Where would you go?
- What’s your favorite song right now? Was it the same yesterday?
- What posters do you have on your wall, if any?
- Pens or pencils?
- Do you believe in astrology?
- What’s your life motto?
- If you died tomorrow, what would the title of your biography be?
- What’s the last movie you saw?
- Paper books or ebooks?
- Coffee or tea?
- Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Now, I hereby tag:
The Incessant Droning of a Bored Writer






My current reading situation is one that I am entirely new to. Going back into my January archives, you’ll find references to my failed attempts to read Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance at a somewhat decent pace. Any reasonable person would assume that by now I have either given up or finished and forgotten to write a review.










Guest Post by a Ghost Squirrel
Kids these days are so ungrateful.
So I, the honorable, tortured ghost of Gary Capusquirrel, appeared before a certain juvenile human female named Allegra, who happens to live near the feuding grounds of we the Capusquirrels and the vile Montacrows, this afternoon after she returned to her dwelling place after hours of absence. She was not impressed by the fact that in my death I had gained the power of speech. She was not disgusted by my gruesome visage. She was not awed at the resurrection of my squirrel-ly soul. She did not tremble before me. All she said was this:
“Oh good, someone who’s not busy. Can you post to my blog for me today? Here’s the password.”
So here I am, typing away at this laptop with my ghostly paws, as Allegra sits nearby translating a lengthy piece of French. She is, in fact, ignoring me completely–she’s blasting some ruckus she considers music in her ears. She did not deem to inform me about the nature of this blog, and I will not waste my time surveying the previous entries. Therefore I am going to relate a tale of woe and misery: the tale of the long duel with Ella Montacrow that resulted in my death.
The Capusquirrels and the Montacrows have been engaged for countless years in a battle for control of the bird feeder. The humans of Allegra’s clan often supply the peasant songbirds with food during the winter without a thought towards those of us of more noble blood. The Capusquirrels and the Montacrows vie day after day for complete dominion over the feeding area. There has been no friendly discourse between the two families since that shameful week two years ago when one of our young women fell in love–despite species boundaries–with a dashing Montacrow. The shunned pair committed double suicide by stepping into the road together.
But I digress. Ella Montacrow and I have had a special rivalry since our youth. The Montacrows led by Ella had taken complete control of the suet hanger, a favorable asset to the main feeding area. Seeing that Montacrow dame cawing on about her victory set my teeth on edge. I felt the driving need to sabotage the suet hanger and stop her gloating.
I observed that daily, at the hour of 6:09 PM, the human patriarch steers an immense vehicle by our feuding grounds. I have witnessed many a stick get crushed into bits under the juggernaut’s tires. I so designed a plan to destroy the suet hanger. When all of the Montacrows on guard were all the way across the yard, otherwise occupied, I dashed to the suet hanger and removed it from its branch with outstanding agility, if I do say so myself. As my fellow Capusquirrels cheered, I dragged the suet hanger into the driveway, left it in a strategic position in the typical path of the humans’ vehicle, and dashed back to the Capusquirrel tree.
Before long, the vehicle came along and crushed the doomed suet hanger beneath its wheels. The Montacrows, sensing something was amiss, flew back to our land of feud, cawing at such volumes as I have never before heard in my life or death. Ella Montacrow, seeing her precious suet hanger destroyed on the ground, cried that she would have revenge on the perpetrator. Montacrow had never before gone back on her word. I trembled.
I suspect that Montacrow, determined to find the correct one of us to punish, bribed the peasant songbirds to report on our activities. She soon discovered that it was indeed I who had arranged the death of the suet hanger. From my conjecture, she rallied her fellows about her and me ambushed while I was away from my kin. The Montacrows, led by Ella herself, swept up in a vengeful fury, forced me to run away from our feuding grounds and towards the road. O, road, that dreaded site of so many deaths, belonging to both rival families! The Montacrow dame swooped down as I raced toward the road and forced me to either leap on to the pavement or be speared upon her beak and claws.
As my chance of survival was greater, I chose to enter the road. Alas, the stars were against me, for I was struck with an almighty force and was aware of a last horrible second of crushing pain. When my consciousness aroused again, I was weightless: I looked down upon my ruined body. My fellow Capusquirrels mourned my death as the triumphant Montacrows stood by.
Disgusted by our petty mortal debates, I decided to wander in my new-found state. I first visited the humans’ home and rested for a while in Allegra’s room. The story from there has already been told.
Ah. Allegra has just informed me that nearly 800 words is quite sufficient for a standard blog post. I shall now bid you all adieu. I’m off to my next adventure.
Posted by Allegra Davis on March 27, 2012 in Humor, Fiction, and Commentary
Tags: crows, fiction, humor, Romeo and Juliet parody, squirrels