I seem to like posting to this thing....
i originally posted this in Bruce's livejournal. i liked it so much, i thought i'd share it here (like more people read my lj than Bruce's? i must up my anti-psychotics...)
one year for new years i went home to Chapel Hill and hung out with my old crowd of dangerous vagabounds. we found ourselves at the local Harris Teeter and soon dedicated ourselves to purchasing a canteloupe. the first challenge was finding the canteloupe and other melonary section. (i was sidetract by a lone ballon floating through the isles. i eventually tied it to my beltloop and walked around like i was oblivious to it). once found and purchased, we had to decide what to do with it. and we came to said descion: our old high school. we went to the school, all closed and dark, what with it being 10PM on new years. we hung out at our old hangin' out spot (dubbed "The Spot" back in the day) until we decided we had better leave before some kind of security patrol showed up (in retrospect, i don't think there actually was one there). we through the canteloupe at the wall of the building all dramatically in a sign of protest. it anticlimatically fell short and hit the pavement of the ground. further anticlimatizing the climax, it did not explode into a jillion canteloupy parts, but rather cracked a small three inch schism. we picked it up again, and threw it on the ground as hard as we could. the crack grew a little larger, but the canteloupe was still in one piece. all in all it took three throws to get it to split unceremonously in two. with the canteloupe now halved, an unspoken and unanimous feeling went through us that the security forces were after us. we scrambled (and text book definition of scramble, too) into the Lebetkinmobile and tried to make our escape. my scarf got caught in the door and we had to stop after only fleeing two feet so i could open the door and get it out. then we barreled out of there like a bat out of H-E-double toothpicks, feeling the heat hot on our trail. the fact that we hadn't been arrested is proof in my mind that we were the only people within twenty miles of the place. becuase crime against melon is a class B felony. i learned that from watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent.
one year for new years i went home to Chapel Hill and hung out with my old crowd of dangerous vagabounds. we found ourselves at the local Harris Teeter and soon dedicated ourselves to purchasing a canteloupe. the first challenge was finding the canteloupe and other melonary section. (i was sidetract by a lone ballon floating through the isles. i eventually tied it to my beltloop and walked around like i was oblivious to it). once found and purchased, we had to decide what to do with it. and we came to said descion: our old high school. we went to the school, all closed and dark, what with it being 10PM on new years. we hung out at our old hangin' out spot (dubbed "The Spot" back in the day) until we decided we had better leave before some kind of security patrol showed up (in retrospect, i don't think there actually was one there). we through the canteloupe at the wall of the building all dramatically in a sign of protest. it anticlimatically fell short and hit the pavement of the ground. further anticlimatizing the climax, it did not explode into a jillion canteloupy parts, but rather cracked a small three inch schism. we picked it up again, and threw it on the ground as hard as we could. the crack grew a little larger, but the canteloupe was still in one piece. all in all it took three throws to get it to split unceremonously in two. with the canteloupe now halved, an unspoken and unanimous feeling went through us that the security forces were after us. we scrambled (and text book definition of scramble, too) into the Lebetkinmobile and tried to make our escape. my scarf got caught in the door and we had to stop after only fleeing two feet so i could open the door and get it out. then we barreled out of there like a bat out of H-E-double toothpicks, feeling the heat hot on our trail. the fact that we hadn't been arrested is proof in my mind that we were the only people within twenty miles of the place. becuase crime against melon is a class B felony. i learned that from watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent.