My cat, Gerard Butler, prepares to cast a spell on you.
Okay, bitches. I just write this review for a reading series where the establishment that is Sara Mumolo makes sure that everyone can have access to both great cheese and spectacular poetry and you repay my efforts with this effusion of nonsensical writing!?
I'd also like to point out that the muse of this blog is Beowulf, not your weird Chinese poetry, and although there may be dragons in both, Beowulf does not speak Chinese. He is very upset with you. Not upset enough to bother deleting all of the comments, but that is mostly because Beowulf is (probably) from the fifth century and thereby does not know how to use a computer. Which leaves this important task to My Cat, Gerard Butler, who is ultimately dim-witted and lacks opposable thumbs, which leaves me. Which leaves no one. Thank you.
Wait. I think I found the on button.
I'd also like to point out that the muse of this blog is Beowulf, not your weird Chinese poetry, and although there may be dragons in both, Beowulf does not speak Chinese. He is very upset with you. Not upset enough to bother deleting all of the comments, but that is mostly because Beowulf is (probably) from the fifth century and thereby does not know how to use a computer. Which leaves this important task to My Cat, Gerard Butler, who is ultimately dim-witted and lacks opposable thumbs, which leaves me. Which leaves no one. Thank you.
Wait. I think I found the on button.
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