lunesta perhaps. no sleep. no sleep. staring at the wall... should we talk about the weather...? should we talk about the government...? Hey, I'm sorry I lost myself... I must have forgot you were somebody else. (Pop Song 89)
Oh. Right. So speaking of Arctic Dill Sauce. Which I suppose is the new AP concoction. We totally had a new waitperson... one who has never fully experienced the *swish swish* trademark of Big C and Special K: the faces created by leftover accutriments. Our usual waitperson was not there... I guess that Josie's on a vacation far away. Come around and talk it over. So many things that I wanna say... (Your Love) but the bus boys no longer deliver our messages. Good grief.
My car was quite nearly out of gas at the time too. So I ran, I ran so far away. I just ran, I ran all night and day. I couldnt get away. (And I Ran) Kathleen and Clanci were standing right there anyway. Yup. Once I got the 62, I realized indeed that Chevron was closed. But 76 was open. Lucky for me, Special K and Blanchasaurus escorted my Sally to the station. Then they were slowly disappearing from my view; Disappearing from my view. Reached out a hand to try again; Im floating in a beam of light with you; A beam of light with you.(And I Ran)
Nevermind. That would be a truck pulling in to fill up. With their brights on.
It kinda reminded me of when I got my knee caught in the slammin' door
How about some information, please? Straight up now tell me are you really going to just go off and blind me? or am I caught in a hit-and-run? Oh oh oh. (Straight Up) It was a bit scary. In my mind and in my car, We can't rewind, we've gone too far. (Video Killed the Radio Star)
Ack... but see, that's beside the point. I guess that it would really be beneficiary to complete my homework. It would be easy if you're colors were like my dreams: red gold and green. Red Gold and Green.(Karma Chameleon). I'm going to be honest though... I need some motivation. Some help but most of all:
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night (which will happen quite shortly as it's past 2am...)
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light (again, fast approaching)
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon (you can say that again)
And he's gotta be larger than life.(Holding Out For a Hero)
Well... I'm going to be getting back to work now... because pretty soon it'll be Six o'clock already I was just in the middle of a dream. Have to catch an early train, got to be to work by nine (thirty) And if I had an air-o-plane, I still couldn't make it on time. 'Cause it takes me so long just to figure out what I'm gonna wear...(Manic Monday)
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
green iguana climbing log and other stories
chapter one: SOCK BUNNIES
So. I belive that everyone is well aware of the mythological beast that steals half of all matching socks in any given load of laundry. However, like Josh on Destination Truth, I have sought out this mischievous beast in the pursuit of gaining a greater understanding of the creature or even to disprove his existence. Which I did. Disproving, that is.
You see, dear reader, it all started like this: toodling on the world wide web (the triple dub) in calm awaitance of laundry switching. That is, waiting for it to finish washing so I could load it into the dryer. Tip tapping away at my computer, I hear the tum tumbling of the washing machine spinning and cleansing my clothes. And then, suddenly, SILENCE!! I knew it was time.
I crept silently from my chair (so as not to awaken my valiant roommates). Even without the assistance of night vision goggles, I could make my way to the laundry room (which happens to be right next door to my own bedroom). The laundry was ready to switch. Pending a quick emptying of the dryer. And quick indeed I did make it, thinking that it was only towels. It wasn't.
There were socks. As I was swiftly stuffing the laundry basket with towels a solitary sock soared past like the Millenium Falcon after hiding out on that asteroid. NOoooooOOOOooo!!! I cry in slow motion and a whisper. The podiatrical accutriment passed my grasp and vanished into the underworld of behind the dryer. Never to be seen again.
It made me ponder what happens to socks after they have left our noble care? Down in the laundry underworld. Which happens to be run by a strange tribe of dust bunnies... oddly enough, the size and shape of real rabbits. King Cottontail does not tolerate outsiders. The intruding sock must now be tortured by means of dust bunny dogpile: a slow and painful death... eventually leading to the sock becoming but a dust bunny itself. The only hope for the sock is to gain help from Peter Rabbit the king's own brother.... though he seems to prefer stealing vegetables lately...
I am not too upset. It's not like it was my sock.
chapter two: PETER PARQUET: SPIDER PLANT EXTRAORDINAIRE
Speaking of Peters... I found it quite intriguing... as I was perusing "Google Image" for information that may save my poor leaf curling spider plant's life... (maybe seeing healthy plants would make it feel better. It could be all psychological. You know?) Up from the depths, thirty stories high, breathes fire, its head it the sky! Godzilla! Godzilla! Godzilla! ...and Godzoo-ooo-oookie.
I'm most certainly denying that he's a handsome fellow. However... my poor Peter Parquet.... was so stunned by the image... well. I believe I feel a song, erm, I mean parody coming on:
(to the tune of the spider man theme song)
Spider Plant, Spider Plant
Friendly neighborhood Spider Plant
Doesn't grow; there it lies
Guess I'll have to improvise
Look out. Here I come, Spider Plant!
Come along, start to bud,
I've just started a little flood.
Tried to feed; grow for me.
Don't you curl those leaves for me.
Hey there! Here I come, Spider Plant!
So. I belive that everyone is well aware of the mythological beast that steals half of all matching socks in any given load of laundry. However, like Josh on Destination Truth, I have sought out this mischievous beast in the pursuit of gaining a greater understanding of the creature or even to disprove his existence. Which I did. Disproving, that is.
You see, dear reader, it all started like this: toodling on the world wide web (the triple dub) in calm awaitance of laundry switching. That is, waiting for it to finish washing so I could load it into the dryer. Tip tapping away at my computer, I hear the tum tumbling of the washing machine spinning and cleansing my clothes. And then, suddenly, SILENCE!! I knew it was time.
I crept silently from my chair (so as not to awaken my valiant roommates). Even without the assistance of night vision goggles, I could make my way to the laundry room (which happens to be right next door to my own bedroom). The laundry was ready to switch. Pending a quick emptying of the dryer. And quick indeed I did make it, thinking that it was only towels. It wasn't.
There were socks. As I was swiftly stuffing the laundry basket with towels a solitary sock soared past like the Millenium Falcon after hiding out on that asteroid. NOoooooOOOOooo!!! I cry in slow motion and a whisper. The podiatrical accutriment passed my grasp and vanished into the underworld of behind the dryer. Never to be seen again.
It made me ponder what happens to socks after they have left our noble care? Down in the laundry underworld. Which happens to be run by a strange tribe of dust bunnies... oddly enough, the size and shape of real rabbits. King Cottontail does not tolerate outsiders. The intruding sock must now be tortured by means of dust bunny dogpile: a slow and painful death... eventually leading to the sock becoming but a dust bunny itself. The only hope for the sock is to gain help from Peter Rabbit the king's own brother.... though he seems to prefer stealing vegetables lately...
I am not too upset. It's not like it was my sock.
chapter two: PETER PARQUET: SPIDER PLANT EXTRAORDINAIRE
Speaking of Peters... I found it quite intriguing... as I was perusing "Google Image" for information that may save my poor leaf curling spider plant's life... (maybe seeing healthy plants would make it feel better. It could be all psychological. You know?) Up from the depths, thirty stories high, breathes fire, its head it the sky! Godzilla! Godzilla! Godzilla! ...and Godzoo-ooo-oookie.
I'm most certainly denying that he's a handsome fellow. However... my poor Peter Parquet.... was so stunned by the image... well. I believe I feel a song, erm, I mean parody coming on:
(to the tune of the spider man theme song)
Spider Plant, Spider Plant
Friendly neighborhood Spider Plant
Doesn't grow; there it lies
Guess I'll have to improvise
Look out. Here I come, Spider Plant!
Come along, start to bud,
I've just started a little flood.
Tried to feed; grow for me.
Don't you curl those leaves for me.
Hey there! Here I come, Spider Plant!
Thursday, March 6, 2008
High Fructose Corn Syrup
No... you don't have food poisoning, that's just High Fructose Corn Syrup doing its thing. You'll get used to it in a few months: we put it in everything.
~Toothpaste for Dinner
I often wonder if they put weird things in the food at Shari's. Weird things that cause weird people to feel trapped inside restaurant restrooms. Weird things that cause weird conversations with old friends. Also new friends.
Among other things I've done today (including forgetting to start the dryer at work and faceplanting at my desk WHILE sitting in a chair...), I nearly destroyed the entire school day today for tomorrow. Phew. I feel as if it is safe to speak of... considering that Kathleen already world wide published it. And Trevor made contacts in Roseburg. Before you know it, this bad boy tidbit will span the good ol' U.S. of A.... it's best, kind readers, that you hear it from me:
I took home the only key to the main entrance gate.
There I said it. It's true. But I brought it back... spurring on yet another adventure of Big C and Special K...
C: Hey K, whaddyou wanna do today
K: IDK... go to Shari's and return the key you stole from work!!! Nob.
C: Okay... hey let's call up some homies and wreak havoc.
K: Uhhh... I don't think that's such a good idea...
C: What are you talking about??? It'll be fine. Dialing now.... boop beep boop bee boop boop boopp...
Ellen (the Shari's waitress): Ooooh... I wanna hear about the brothers. Nessicito... un piquito espanol...
C: Je ne parle pas d'Espanol
K: Oh French! Yeah!
So we left a fancy note for our fancy waitress who I believe appreciated the fact that we didn't yell "Hola, Como Estas?" across the restaurant as Joe so suggested... we also left a fancy face for our waitress Ellen.
Zorro, the great masked warrior, has the letter Z that he inscribes upon all conquered ... eh... conquests.... The Great Big C and Special K.... have the Ranch-Honey Mustard- Ketchup Smiley face... complete with complimentary note. The kind waitpeople always say thank you... but deep down I wonder... are they just being nice... or do they have a secret underground order of the waitpeople... just waiting to get us back for all the extra dish washing and wasted condiments.
Maybe they'll just spike our food with high fructose corn syrup...
.... Not that we need any more...
Who was the 6'3" tall, 36th president of the United States of America? Lyndon B. Johnson.
I learned that from the Mob.
Which of the following celebrities have been in the longest relationships? A. Britney and K-Fed; B. Pam and Kid Rock; or C. some other guys: Answer? Britney Spears and Kevin Federline.
I learned that from the Mob
Who, in the famous stageplay, did Oedipus fall in love with? Guess what folks, I'll never know. Thanks a bunch for giving us, the faithful audience the coming question.... but not answering it. Thanks, Mob. I think it was his mom... hence "Oedipus complex," but I lost my copy. So I'll never know.
Also to add on my list of things I'll never know: whether my Red Wag Platy (named Baxter) is a boy or a girl. Something I'll never know. Well, unless Buble, the Sunburst Wag gets fresh and.... well. I'll still probably never know. Just for good measure I secured a chaperone for them: a spunky Otocinclus named Bissel. He'll help clean up their act... and their tank at the same time!
I was going to name him Hoover (after the vacuum cleaner and president), but "Baxter, Buble, and Hoover" just didn't sound right. "Baxter, Buble, and Bissel?" Now that has a ring to it. Call it alliteration homes! Either that... or PURE GENIUS!
In other news: let's rewind to about half an hour before Bissel's purchase (except at the time his name was Hoover). Sooooo, Tuesday after work, I proceeded to the mall to visit the Clearwire kiosk (bonus cool word points). In my excitement to procure high speed internet, I opened the door POP! right into my knee cap. Instantly all innocent passersby reeled about to look at the girl who just pulled a Christy. These passersby included a random old guy who asked if I required any assistance... to which I replied that no I did not.
However, even amidst this strike of ill luck... I was still in a super good mood, anticipating the acquirement of the illusive Internet. After a quite riviting convo with Doug... giver of super internet powers... I emerged victorious. And ran into the sign. Oh yes.... I ended Tuesday bruised and in pain... but I ended with a sense of accomplishment. I also ended without full bending power of my right knee...
Note to self: No more sugar for me.
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