Park that baby on the overhead.
"Phil: I would've gotten the chocolate ice cream like you, but it gives me the chocolate lips.
Tim: Who you been givin' a blowjob to, Phil?
Phil: Condoleeza Rice." - the ice cream conversation AS WELL AS
"Phil: What would scare you more, a zombie robot or a robot zombie?"
"Tim: Robot zombie. At least it looks kind of like a real zombie, whereas a zombie robot would just be an undead robot, which is kind of silly because they aren't alive to begin with." - the zombie conversation AS WELL AS
"Hey, nice tight shirt!!" - some kid, talking about Phil's shirt (which is, I guess, medium-sized)
This week is a four day week, leading into a four day weekend, and then the inevitable four day week to follow. I am supremely happy.
This weekend was shit on the tit of a rebellious nun (I don't know what the comparison is, but fuck you). Well, Saturday was, at least. All I did was (literally) wake up and plow through six subjects' worth of homework. I should have decided to be a lazy son-uva-bitch (do not pronounce 'uva' like a Spaniard, as that means grape) this year instead of creating my current lame-o schedule. Oh well.
Sunday was Canadian Thanksgiving (well, technically, it's in a week, but Amberyl was celebrating it on this Sunday so what the hell). Phil picked me up about noon and we went to the commissary to get some goods for Thanksgiving. The gifts we bore included 1) "pop" (i.e. soda, including Canadian Dry soda, since we figured that was all them Canadians ever drank); 2) Oreos (double-stuf chocolate creme, Phil's choice); 3) Garlic nibblers; and 4) bread which we found for $.03. Yes, you read that right. Three cent bread. This was a revelation of epic proportions. I have never in my life seen bread for only three cents. And this was no teeny dinner roll, either. It had some serious poundage.
"Grandson, when I was your age, you could buy bread for a nickel."
"Hey, fuck you, old man. I got this here bread for three fucking cents."
Phil and I also discovered we're both Aunt Jemima syrup men, which makes a big difference if we are going to possibly room together. I mean, can you picture the hostility between a Log Cabin syrup eater and an Aunt Jemima syrup eater? Oh boy. I don't even want to go there.
So, three cent bread on the dash, we drove over to his house. I met his kitties, got a tour of the palace, and then we watched the film American History X. Gotta love that movie. BITE THE CURB (the real line is "Put your mouth on the curb!" but bite the curb sounds more forceful). Kyle went out and bought oven-makable pizza and Heineken, "just because" he could. Hahah. Only another few months and I will be able to claim that too, mang.
So after we finished AHX Phil and I drove over to Amberyl's house to eat (Canadian) Thanksgiving dinner. Or is eating at 4:00 P.M. considered "linner" (lunch + dinner)? Or is that dunch? Oh well.
Before we ate, we also played an evil shock-your-hand game. Most of the people there were able to just hold onto it without flinching, but when it shocked me I literally convulsed on the ground and my face contorted all oddly. But that is because I am a badass.
The food was rather delicious, especially the stuffing. I am a stuffing man, myself. And there was plenty of stuffing to go around, man. I even had seconds.
After dinner we walked around for a bit outside, until Phil, Claire and I decided to do a Physics experiment using Phil's car. We wanted to see how far it would roll down the hill in neutral. After we got to the bottom of the hill, we turned onto a gravel road and continued in neutral down there, until a car started following us. Phil wanted to turn around, so he pulled over to the edge near a sign that said something in German. The car passed by, and we backed up. Wait. No we didn't. We couldn't. We were stuck in mud, roffles.
Using our highly developed muscles, Phil and I attempted to push the van out of the slippery mud slope as Claire manned the controls. But that only led to my pants getting rather muddy (from the shit the tires were spurting everywhere). Then, we tried to maneuver the car into the drier grassy area next to the slippery muddy slope, after Phil angled the car perpendicular to the slope. Claire and I were able to push it up onto the grassy area, but then Phil decided to get back on the grassy slope (this time facing the right way, at least). By this time the other kids had totally gorged themselves on pumpkin pie and were wondering where the hell we were, so they called Claire who told them to hurry up and get down to help us push the vehicle. Then the storm clouds moved over our heads, and by the time they arrived it was drizzling lightly. Oh boy. So with the extra arm strength (minus Derek, until he got his fill of taking pictures of everything), we were able to push the car out onto the road. We walked back up and cleaned our hands and such.
Some goofballs made mud from the tires into little turdlets and put them on Amberyl's neighbor's porch. Tsk, tsk.
So Phil drove Korin and me home, and I was able to view Korin's house. It was pretty exciting.
Then I came home and did another two fuckloads worth of homework, including an entire Sociology PowerPoint project (which he considered "above college level" the next day when I presented). Lolz. I kick ass at PP.
I believe it is time for me to go watch some Nip/Tuck. Pax out.
Tim: Who you been givin' a blowjob to, Phil?
Phil: Condoleeza Rice." - the ice cream conversation AS WELL AS
"Phil: What would scare you more, a zombie robot or a robot zombie?"
"Tim: Robot zombie. At least it looks kind of like a real zombie, whereas a zombie robot would just be an undead robot, which is kind of silly because they aren't alive to begin with." - the zombie conversation AS WELL AS
"Hey, nice tight shirt!!" - some kid, talking about Phil's shirt (which is, I guess, medium-sized)
This week is a four day week, leading into a four day weekend, and then the inevitable four day week to follow. I am supremely happy.
This weekend was shit on the tit of a rebellious nun (I don't know what the comparison is, but fuck you). Well, Saturday was, at least. All I did was (literally) wake up and plow through six subjects' worth of homework. I should have decided to be a lazy son-uva-bitch (do not pronounce 'uva' like a Spaniard, as that means grape) this year instead of creating my current lame-o schedule. Oh well.
Sunday was Canadian Thanksgiving (well, technically, it's in a week, but Amberyl was celebrating it on this Sunday so what the hell). Phil picked me up about noon and we went to the commissary to get some goods for Thanksgiving. The gifts we bore included 1) "pop" (i.e. soda, including Canadian Dry soda, since we figured that was all them Canadians ever drank); 2) Oreos (double-stuf chocolate creme, Phil's choice); 3) Garlic nibblers; and 4) bread which we found for $.03. Yes, you read that right. Three cent bread. This was a revelation of epic proportions. I have never in my life seen bread for only three cents. And this was no teeny dinner roll, either. It had some serious poundage.
"Grandson, when I was your age, you could buy bread for a nickel."
"Hey, fuck you, old man. I got this here bread for three fucking cents."
Phil and I also discovered we're both Aunt Jemima syrup men, which makes a big difference if we are going to possibly room together. I mean, can you picture the hostility between a Log Cabin syrup eater and an Aunt Jemima syrup eater? Oh boy. I don't even want to go there.
So, three cent bread on the dash, we drove over to his house. I met his kitties, got a tour of the palace, and then we watched the film American History X. Gotta love that movie. BITE THE CURB (the real line is "Put your mouth on the curb!" but bite the curb sounds more forceful). Kyle went out and bought oven-makable pizza and Heineken, "just because" he could. Hahah. Only another few months and I will be able to claim that too, mang.
So after we finished AHX Phil and I drove over to Amberyl's house to eat (Canadian) Thanksgiving dinner. Or is eating at 4:00 P.M. considered "linner" (lunch + dinner)? Or is that dunch? Oh well.
Before we ate, we also played an evil shock-your-hand game. Most of the people there were able to just hold onto it without flinching, but when it shocked me I literally convulsed on the ground and my face contorted all oddly. But that is because I am a badass.
The food was rather delicious, especially the stuffing. I am a stuffing man, myself. And there was plenty of stuffing to go around, man. I even had seconds.
After dinner we walked around for a bit outside, until Phil, Claire and I decided to do a Physics experiment using Phil's car. We wanted to see how far it would roll down the hill in neutral. After we got to the bottom of the hill, we turned onto a gravel road and continued in neutral down there, until a car started following us. Phil wanted to turn around, so he pulled over to the edge near a sign that said something in German. The car passed by, and we backed up. Wait. No we didn't. We couldn't. We were stuck in mud, roffles.
Using our highly developed muscles, Phil and I attempted to push the van out of the slippery mud slope as Claire manned the controls. But that only led to my pants getting rather muddy (from the shit the tires were spurting everywhere). Then, we tried to maneuver the car into the drier grassy area next to the slippery muddy slope, after Phil angled the car perpendicular to the slope. Claire and I were able to push it up onto the grassy area, but then Phil decided to get back on the grassy slope (this time facing the right way, at least). By this time the other kids had totally gorged themselves on pumpkin pie and were wondering where the hell we were, so they called Claire who told them to hurry up and get down to help us push the vehicle. Then the storm clouds moved over our heads, and by the time they arrived it was drizzling lightly. Oh boy. So with the extra arm strength (minus Derek, until he got his fill of taking pictures of everything), we were able to push the car out onto the road. We walked back up and cleaned our hands and such.
Some goofballs made mud from the tires into little turdlets and put them on Amberyl's neighbor's porch. Tsk, tsk.
So Phil drove Korin and me home, and I was able to view Korin's house. It was pretty exciting.
Then I came home and did another two fuckloads worth of homework, including an entire Sociology PowerPoint project (which he considered "above college level" the next day when I presented). Lolz. I kick ass at PP.
I believe it is time for me to go watch some Nip/Tuck. Pax out.