Textbook History

The yellow highlighter trails neon butter
on gunmetal print.
The wind turns paper leaves.

A pink cardboard
rebound covers the rubel as fall
covers an unstable Earth.
Over the wide girth of Mr Thomas
writing, the war is on.

First piece of Palmer fanfiction. I want the IB to take over fanfiction.net. That's my goal. I'm not really this pretentious in my writing- I was parodying something. Kudos if you know what it is.

Palmeritis! I'm asking you all to flood www.fanfiction.net with Palmer fanfic, preferrably slash. I mean, maybe just poems or something. I know I wrote a poem with Palmer in it, and Jen says that people write poems about Palmer in Spanish.

Lord of the Rings is a kickass movie. Just for the record. Also. Does ANYONE know what parts of Palmer we're supposed to read? I'm reading the chapter on the French Revolution, which is what I xeroxed because I left my Palmer at school, so I borrowed Alex's temporarily. I shall be immensely pissed if this is not the chapter.

You know what, Palmer? You may not be as pretty as Enduring Vision or as softly-bound as Amsco, and you may be really boring and Francophilic and look god-awful in that speckled pink rebound cover of yours, but deep inside, you have a heart of gold. God knows that's why you're so heavy. You're the only book that doesn't insult my intelligence and is mildly interesting. I love you, man. Good night, Palmer.

Damn, it's only the middle of the afternoon.

You know what I need to do? At the end of senior year, I am going to send a large, lacy thank you card to the guy who wrote Palmer. You know like, "Oh my god, I love you, I'm your greatest fan. You've given me so much quality education in European history, how can I possibly repay you???" The last being a rhetorical statement. I'll just send him crappy chocolates. "I have all your albums, and am ardently looking forward to your newest releases. PS: Can I have your autograph??? It would mean the Ptolemaic world to me. -Yours truly... Mr. Thomas" No. Haha, I'm kidding about the last part, but I'll send the rest of the card. I just hope this Mr. Palmer hasn't kicked the bucket already, or I'll be severely pissed. You know what's sad? I spend more collective time with Palmer than with my online semi-sortof-boyfriend. (Hi, Vass, I know you read this.)