I've been waiting for a great event to come along that would be 100th-post-worthy. And let me tell you, I found it.
As many of you know, I am extremely fond of order in the household. Not that everything has to BE in order, but it should HAVE an order just in case I wanted to put it there. Which is why the enormous jar of pickles in our garage was a problem for me. You see, no one knows where it came from or why it's been in our garage so long. And I had no place to put it when I went on my garage cleaning rampage a few months ago. I've been jonesing to get it out of here and tonight, Emely and I hatched a plan.
While the rest of our roommates were at the Jason Alpenis concert, we loaded up the jar of pickles in the trusty backpack I've had since high school.
Emely brought her backpack, which she also has had since high school, "just in case we find anything while we're out."
We then composed this note:
After that, we rode around our neighborhood on our bicycles until we found a very proper-looking one-story house with a nice looking lawn and daffodils. And we left it in their driveway.
Unfortunately, before departing, the pickle jar tipped over and leaked all over my backpack, causing me to smell faintly of vinegar the entire voyage. This happened twice.
Since we still had daylight left, we rode to a path that Emely knew of with some ancient runes spray painted on it. We stopped to chat with some horses when Em decided to get rid of some excess spit she had in her mouth. Her technique is really pretty incomprehensible and can best be described as a sort of wind up and pitch action. Unfortunately, during the second launching, she wasn't really paying attention to the direction of the wind and spat directly into my face. That was neat. Emely was unable to stand due to laughing so hard about the spit on my face.
We then decided to cross a bridge across the canal. Here, Emely is featured "moving up in the world" from the sloth butt scoot she performed going the other way. All in all, a fantastic ride.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
You owe me 5 dollars for that
Oh man, kids, this is my 99th blog. Blog 100 is just around the corner. How momentous!
I have not been doing a very good job of logging the hilarious moments that happen in my life. Recently Anne turned 21 so we took her out for her birthday. Although the Piper Pub currently owns far too many of my dollars, we had a good time. We also did a little karaokeing later. More or less, we were the third worst group of singers in the place for a good amount of time. But then the girl who wanted to sing "Family Portrait" a half-step off the entire time made us all feel better. The title of the blog comes from the guy who sat on a stool with his back to Alli, but somehow managed to rub his butt against her periodically. When they decided to address this issue, the man informed her that he should charge her $5 for the experience he had given her. Alli did not pay him.
Recently I had a conversation with my 11-year-old twin nieces (I adopted them, okay) about the value of ear-piercing. They come from a no-nonsense (in the realm of appearances), but very imaginative family. So I asked them if they were every going to get their ears pierced, and they replied matter-of-factly: Please. You have wrists, and a neck, and fiiiiingers. Why do you need one more place to hang jewelry off of? You already have plenty.
Peace, love, and harmony.
I have not been doing a very good job of logging the hilarious moments that happen in my life. Recently Anne turned 21 so we took her out for her birthday. Although the Piper Pub currently owns far too many of my dollars, we had a good time. We also did a little karaokeing later. More or less, we were the third worst group of singers in the place for a good amount of time. But then the girl who wanted to sing "Family Portrait" a half-step off the entire time made us all feel better. The title of the blog comes from the guy who sat on a stool with his back to Alli, but somehow managed to rub his butt against her periodically. When they decided to address this issue, the man informed her that he should charge her $5 for the experience he had given her. Alli did not pay him.
Recently I had a conversation with my 11-year-old twin nieces (I adopted them, okay) about the value of ear-piercing. They come from a no-nonsense (in the realm of appearances), but very imaginative family. So I asked them if they were every going to get their ears pierced, and they replied matter-of-factly: Please. You have wrists, and a neck, and fiiiiingers. Why do you need one more place to hang jewelry off of? You already have plenty.
Peace, love, and harmony.
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