So Totally Not A Vulcan.

It would appear that Reading Week is all upons. Buenos. None can resist its sultry advances nor are any immune to the sweet sickness it doth contage. (Contage is obviously the verb-type form of contagious, in that it means that you have a disease that is contagious and you have bestowed it upon another. Duh.)

Also, huge event coming up: Presidents' Day! Who cares! No, just kidding, I love all 12 of the presidents. More importantly, however, is Presidents' Day Eve. Which is, of course, mon jour de naissance! 'Twill be my Golden Birthday, no less. 20 years old on the 20th of February. Hallelujah.

You know what all this birthday talk gets me in the mood for? Some poems. Especially awesome ones.

Ok, I really could not resist. Here is some incredibly poetry by the lovely Leonard Nimoy:

Rocket ships
Are exciting
But so are roses
On a birthday

Computers are exciting
But so is a sunset

And logic
Will never replace
Love

Sometimes I wonder
Where I belong
In the future
Or
In the past

Rocket ships
Are exciting
But so are roses
On a birthday

Computers are exciting
But so is a sunset

And logic
Will never replace
Love

I guess I'm just
An old-fashioned
Spaceman

And, just for a few more laughs, my favorite Nimoy work:

In the desert I learned about heat,
In the snow I learned about cold,
When you left I learned about lonely.

I'm honestly crying. Seriously heart-wrenching. That guy was so not a Vulcan.

Anyway, I'm'a go elsewhere.

Live Long and Prosper,

Daytona Splendor.