Moving magazines to save the president...
First off, I don’t think I’ve yet mentioned the fact that I now have a deviant art account. www.thenurserycryme.deviantart.com Now I expect you to run over there and look at some of my happy photography. It’s some of what I want to go up there, but I’m to lazy to continuously update. So schmeh.
Next, I went to help the gay people set up pridefest in Ferndale yesterday. Here’s what happened: I went with Mariel, who picked me up, then we stopped by Rishi’s graduation party for all of 12 or 14 minutes, picked up Steven, and went down to Affirmations. Well, what they started us doing first was hauling magazines. Now understand that I mean, from a basement, up a flight of stares, through the back door and then to a truck. Then the truck drives from the parking lot, to a store across the street, where we have to unload the magazines again. Well, we got a line going, so we could just pass a stack of magazines off from one to the other out to the truck. Then everybody walks across the street and then comes back. Well, for the last two of the four truckloads of magazines I was the first person in the line. Which means, bending down, grabbing a hunk of magazines and walking them halfway to the stairs. Which, doesn’t really sound so bad. But when you consider that the number of magazines that there were would have filled your kitchen piled to the height of your counter top, it’s a lot. We’re talking thousands of magazines. So at one point someone said something about keeping them moving quickly to save the president. And we all decided that good ol’ W might be better off if we moved really slowly. So then it was decided that we had to save past presidents. Like Bill Clinton, or Ronald Regan. And when I came home I found out he really had died! We killed the president by not moving magazines fast enough.
And now, my back really hurts, and I’m sick. Woot. I really don’t want to go anywhere but I committed.
Next, I went to help the gay people set up pridefest in Ferndale yesterday. Here’s what happened: I went with Mariel, who picked me up, then we stopped by Rishi’s graduation party for all of 12 or 14 minutes, picked up Steven, and went down to Affirmations. Well, what they started us doing first was hauling magazines. Now understand that I mean, from a basement, up a flight of stares, through the back door and then to a truck. Then the truck drives from the parking lot, to a store across the street, where we have to unload the magazines again. Well, we got a line going, so we could just pass a stack of magazines off from one to the other out to the truck. Then everybody walks across the street and then comes back. Well, for the last two of the four truckloads of magazines I was the first person in the line. Which means, bending down, grabbing a hunk of magazines and walking them halfway to the stairs. Which, doesn’t really sound so bad. But when you consider that the number of magazines that there were would have filled your kitchen piled to the height of your counter top, it’s a lot. We’re talking thousands of magazines. So at one point someone said something about keeping them moving quickly to save the president. And we all decided that good ol’ W might be better off if we moved really slowly. So then it was decided that we had to save past presidents. Like Bill Clinton, or Ronald Regan. And when I came home I found out he really had died! We killed the president by not moving magazines fast enough.
And now, my back really hurts, and I’m sick. Woot. I really don’t want to go anywhere but I committed.