Ok, so somebody left a marching drum in our hall sometime during dinner. I leave and return to find a white yamaha bass marching drum standing up in front of my door. So many questions immediately came to mine, such as "what sort of kind hearted individual would choose to bless the men of G with such a magnificent instrument of glory? what am i supposed to do with this drum? why did they refuse to leave mallets? what the heck am i going to do with this? where did it come from? does the yamaha factory family miss their long lost brother (or sister)? what the frick am i going to do with this drum????!!!!" I then rolled the drum into my room for safe keeping and part time storage. As i returned from a nights activities including Vespers, and hangout/music making in the Borden's room complete with a chant i have entitled "where are the women/sausage... fest!" which lasted a grand total of 5 minutes (the 5 minutes Annie Mason was missing from our presence).
So now i sit, inspired once more to articulate the life of Tom Shank via blog. I came back back to G and rolled the drum out of my room to resist the temptation to bang on it all night and to avoid the danger of stubbing my toesies on it in the morning. I am awaiting a night of wrestles sleep due to the countless gunshots which no doubt are decapitating countless zombies on the TV on the other side of the wall, and the sporadic banging of the drum, which has already had its first encounter with Lucas i believe. Nick came out and documented it, God bless his soul, and then continued to run with an elaborate story which eventually led to dubbing our new prized possession, "The gnome drum" (it is an extended inside joke). Welp, goodnight, and God Bless you all.
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