(no subject)
COPSA suburban line buses are depressing. I have just been on one for half an hour, and over that short period of time my thankfulness for the life I have has increased exponentially. I'd been on them before, but I guess I'd never bothered to pay attention to what was around me. I swear, that thing was like a Bar Arocena on wheels. Half the people looked drunk, depressed or both, the rest had fallen asleep, and everything reeked of cigarette smoke. The driver had a black light somewhere around him (I couldn't figure out where, but it was there) which, in conjunction with the somewhat deficient lighting, gave created a truly eerie atmosphere. Finally, the guy who was standing right next to my seat (the bus was packed) and even though he was drinking mate, his breath, which I could very unfortunately smell, strongly suggested that he'd been smoking some weed not so long ago. In sum, it was not exactly the most pleasant of experiences, but I guess I'll have to get used to it, since taking those buses seems to be the only way I can get home at a reasonable time after fencing downtown.
A week has passed since the Poquoson people left, and that being an adequate amount of time to satisfy my procrastinatory instinct, I shall proceed to tell of their stay. To tell the truth, nothing too remarkable took place, or at least nothing remarkable in a positive way. As I have said before, they were relatively decent people, but now I must add "most of the time" to that description. Since the instances when they weren't were the only ones out of the ordinary, I will describe those.
My guest, once he began to feel more confident in my house, unfortunately revealed himself as one of those people who enjoy farting in front of others and calling their attention with aaaaahs of pleasure, as if the act was some sort of commendable accomplishment. From that, I presume, the rest of his unpleasant attitudes may be inferred.
Now, María, Natalie's guest, redefined "disgusting." She truly deserves her own paragraph. That girl managed to do more repugnant things in her two weeks here than I have seen most women do in their lifetime (or at least I like to think that is the case.) She did everything from rubbing a ball of snot on someone else's back, to eating about five spoonfuls of mayonnaise and five of ketchup at a restaurant to cutting her toenails in front of us. And the most outrageous thing is that she wasn't embarrassed at all about it; she started crying in the airport and said she'd had a great time and wanted to come back! Unbelievable.
A week has passed since the Poquoson people left, and that being an adequate amount of time to satisfy my procrastinatory instinct, I shall proceed to tell of their stay. To tell the truth, nothing too remarkable took place, or at least nothing remarkable in a positive way. As I have said before, they were relatively decent people, but now I must add "most of the time" to that description. Since the instances when they weren't were the only ones out of the ordinary, I will describe those.
My guest, once he began to feel more confident in my house, unfortunately revealed himself as one of those people who enjoy farting in front of others and calling their attention with aaaaahs of pleasure, as if the act was some sort of commendable accomplishment. From that, I presume, the rest of his unpleasant attitudes may be inferred.
Now, María, Natalie's guest, redefined "disgusting." She truly deserves her own paragraph. That girl managed to do more repugnant things in her two weeks here than I have seen most women do in their lifetime (or at least I like to think that is the case.) She did everything from rubbing a ball of snot on someone else's back, to eating about five spoonfuls of mayonnaise and five of ketchup at a restaurant to cutting her toenails in front of us. And the most outrageous thing is that she wasn't embarrassed at all about it; she started crying in the airport and said she'd had a great time and wanted to come back! Unbelievable.