I distinctly remember a time when I was younger and I was convinced that the word “narrator” was actually “narrarator.” I always got upset when someone said “narrator,” including the strange British punk in George of the Jungle who said, “Are you arguing with the narrator?” Because “narrarator” was such an integral part of my childhood, I have decided to keep it alive in the form of a super-robot called The Narrarator. Of course, this is all in the fun spirit of the announcement of the new Terminator movie. I saw the preview for it at the Batman movie. It will be coming out next summer. Christian Bale is in it. Mmm…Christian Bale. My movie, the one about The Narrarator, will also be starring Christian Bale.
In other news, I am going home at the end of this week! I am very excited to see my family, my house, my Daddy’s big screen TV, and my cat. Have I told you about my cat? He purrs to me over the phone. He sends me e-mails (they don’t make any sense—but that’s how I know he helped write them). He runs in place on the new hardwood floor. He fights with the cat in the oven. Don’t worry, no animals were harmed in the making of this blog post: my cat simply sees his reflection in the oven door and tries to attack it. What else does he do—oh yeah, he attacked Santa Claus last Christmas. We woke up and found presents strewn across the living room and other clear signs of a struggle. There were tufts of fur. The candy had been knocked over. And then there was the digital camera, sitting suspiciously by the fireplace. My sisters and I picked it up and checked the pictures. The first thing on the screen was a picture of the cat’s paw coming right for the camera! Santa had managed to take a picture of his attacker. Smart man. Not smart cat. We tried to give him a name to live up to. We called him Samwise. The Brave. Anymore, he just responds to Stupid Sam.
So that is what I get to look forward to when I go home. Yup, I have an interesting life. Be jealous. Especially since Christian Bale narrarates my life story.