(no subject)
The other day I went to the supermarket and bought a toothbrush and a packet of cheap doughnuts. As I was leaving it occurred to me that such a combination was actually quite ludicrous. I felt like I may as well have bought nothing at all.
So, in an effort to make my purchases make sense, I ate the doughnuts at the bus stop and forgot to do my teeth that evening. Then, I brushed my teeth twelve times the next day. You understand.
Charlie didn’t. He visited me the next day. I didn’t say much because I was brushing my teeth for the fourth time, but he was obviously confused.
“So you’re brushing your teeth nine times today?”
I nodded.
“Why does that make sense?”
“I usually brush them three times,” I replied, around a mouthful of toothpaste and saliva.
“So?”
“So three times three is nine.”
Charlie did this thing where he’d try to look at me as if I was crazy and ended up looking like a bunny rabbit. But he won’t do it for the camera because he’s too embarrassed.
“You don’t make any sense at all.”
I shrugged and headed back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. We were on our way to the city to interview a guy named Caroline we’d met who we thought we might move in with. Charlie and I had found a house and everything, and were moving in that Saturday, but we desperately needed a third roommate to keep the rent down. It wouldn’t do to let it jump all over us during our first attempt at independent living.
“Todboys,” he said as we sat down. We blinked at him in return. It was pretty evident that we were boys, but I didn’t know what he meant with the “tod”.
“Hello, so,” he said shaking his head. “So, horry! My brain argument language just present, so failing words me avoid.”
“What?” said Charlie.
“That’s terrible!” I said. “Why?”
“Brains stating principle with beans. No, matters,” replied Caroline. “’Cause language fatted it in conversation.”
“Language what’d it in what?” asked Charlie.
“You know. Fatly noticed it.” Caroline grinned and shrugged in a you know how it is sort of way.
“Yeah, they’ll do that on occasion,” I said. “Do they seem like they’re going to make up any time soon?”
Caroline, playing it safe, shook his head.
“Well, just so you know, we won’t hold it against you in regards to whether or not we think you’d be right to move in.” This translated as: we’re desperate, so it’s not like we’re going to turn you down just because your brain and language are having a little tiff. Caroline smiled.
“Gesundheit,” he said.
“He’s perfect,” I said to Charlie, later.
“How do you figure?”
“He seems nice enough. He’s got a stable job and he goes to uni so he won’t be home very often and we can filch his rice from time to time. He’s very enthusiastic and he’s got experience living out of home. And he likes reggae.”
Charlie was looking at me with his bunny rabbit face again. “How do you figure that from the mumbo jumbo he was spouting down there? I didn’t understand a word of it.”
“Oh, come on, Charlie,” I said, patting him on the cheek. “You only have to listen.”
So, in an effort to make my purchases make sense, I ate the doughnuts at the bus stop and forgot to do my teeth that evening. Then, I brushed my teeth twelve times the next day. You understand.
Charlie didn’t. He visited me the next day. I didn’t say much because I was brushing my teeth for the fourth time, but he was obviously confused.
“So you’re brushing your teeth nine times today?”
I nodded.
“Why does that make sense?”
“I usually brush them three times,” I replied, around a mouthful of toothpaste and saliva.
“So?”
“So three times three is nine.”
Charlie did this thing where he’d try to look at me as if I was crazy and ended up looking like a bunny rabbit. But he won’t do it for the camera because he’s too embarrassed.
“You don’t make any sense at all.”
I shrugged and headed back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. We were on our way to the city to interview a guy named Caroline we’d met who we thought we might move in with. Charlie and I had found a house and everything, and were moving in that Saturday, but we desperately needed a third roommate to keep the rent down. It wouldn’t do to let it jump all over us during our first attempt at independent living.
“Todboys,” he said as we sat down. We blinked at him in return. It was pretty evident that we were boys, but I didn’t know what he meant with the “tod”.
“Hello, so,” he said shaking his head. “So, horry! My brain argument language just present, so failing words me avoid.”
“What?” said Charlie.
“That’s terrible!” I said. “Why?”
“Brains stating principle with beans. No, matters,” replied Caroline. “’Cause language fatted it in conversation.”
“Language what’d it in what?” asked Charlie.
“You know. Fatly noticed it.” Caroline grinned and shrugged in a you know how it is sort of way.
“Yeah, they’ll do that on occasion,” I said. “Do they seem like they’re going to make up any time soon?”
Caroline, playing it safe, shook his head.
“Well, just so you know, we won’t hold it against you in regards to whether or not we think you’d be right to move in.” This translated as: we’re desperate, so it’s not like we’re going to turn you down just because your brain and language are having a little tiff. Caroline smiled.
“Gesundheit,” he said.
“He’s perfect,” I said to Charlie, later.
“How do you figure?”
“He seems nice enough. He’s got a stable job and he goes to uni so he won’t be home very often and we can filch his rice from time to time. He’s very enthusiastic and he’s got experience living out of home. And he likes reggae.”
Charlie was looking at me with his bunny rabbit face again. “How do you figure that from the mumbo jumbo he was spouting down there? I didn’t understand a word of it.”
“Oh, come on, Charlie,” I said, patting him on the cheek. “You only have to listen.”