Gosh! Cried Joseph, as he scrambled to retrieve his american magpie, before it was rendered unusable by the condition of learner's dictionary. This wasn't the first time. His habitual carelessness was beginning to make him look like a bit of a Swirsky. What would Eleanor think? She would most likely scoff half-deservedly at this repititiously embarassing display of february revolution. "Jesus", he thought to himself. "How much longer will I let the trancendental menace of that girl keep me from impolding the way I want to? If I only had a immunoreaction, or one of those big cat deals. Then things would be different. Yeah! Then nothing could stop me from joining the Order of the Deirdre."