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� 04/28/2004 - 3:56 a.m. | i thought that i was better off; i was wrong Ironically, I'm actually getting a bit of a cough. Bad taste my ass. Or, alternately... Bad taste, my ass. Bad taste? My ass. Which would make sense. How have you been busy, Nate? Yes, how indeed, plotting excuses. The last I left you with (besides the after school special cliche junk) was with me having to still write all of some long, crappy report. This I did. Even took the time to go to bingo (at a table full of strangers that I got left alone with for a while because new couples can't go anywhere without each other!!!!!), but I think I've decided that from here on out, I need some sort of a Kyle/Shelly buffer person. Too much of a, er, good thing, if you catch my drift. They're so scarily alike that I feel like I need another person with me just to confirm reality. I was thinking about this, though. Like, they always have something to talk about, right, but being essentially the same person (plus or minus a chromosome), what could there possibly be to talk about? Answer: Stating the obvious back and forth, much to Nate's chagrin. It makes up a hilariously large percentage of their conversations and gets a little disconcerting if you start paying attention to it. Real life example:
Kyle (walks over holding 3 napkins): I got 3 napkins. Jaw drops. Anyway, we didn't win the $300 (or anything at all), but there was another amazing drunk that tops my list. Out of nowhere, he yells to the MC, "I WANT YOU TO GIVE PROPS TO 'QUANTUM LEAP!!'" That's right, that early-90s show with Scott Bakula (which the drunk man managed to pronounce wrong). Kyle and I were roaring the rest of the night (and Shelly was spraying poop fire), so when the guy made it into the Shambo, we started yelling at him about it. And he talked into his hand like "Help me out here, Al." Genius. I swear to God that the man is a genius. Finally some Walsh genetics managed to sneak their way into me. While Kyle and Michelle took turns playing Mr. Pacman ("I love this game!" "So do I!" *collapse*), I popped a quarter into the Centipede machine to kill some time. First time I've ever played, and I got like 4th highest score. I vaguely remember Dad telling me how he was really good at it for a while, so I assume this is where my crazy cross arm technique comes from. Too bad nobody cares about the 80's arcade games anymore. Or ever, for that matter. Anyway, I guess it was a late night, but look what time it is now. Fuck it. Up for the vaguest crossing guard session yet, back to sleep until all of that previous insanity rose up to get me, and then very little time to clean myself and print out my paper. I was amazingly late to class because just when I had everything all proofread and made up a nice little series of graphs, the printer burst into flames, and I lost everything. So class for all of half an hour. Once again, I was supposed to work but got shafted again (meaning I don't actually know my hours.... I assume I do have to be there at 9 tomorrow, though), so I spent a good portion of my evening trying to not suck at this. Play play play. Read read read. Sleep sleep sleep. And a trip to the Payless with Kyle and Michelle. Kyle got big red lame Shaq shoes, and I love him for it. I would hardly call it a "crush". Andrea is a member of this... club(??) called the Jurassic Illini. Once a fortnight, a bunch of people get together and watch Jurassic Park. Yeah... that's about all they do. I do like the head guy's devotion to the cause, though. He is one fine Presasaurus Rex. Anyway, Andie invited me to come watch, but somehow this two hour movie took four hours to get through, what with people showering and a ridiculous amount of shitty "Mortal Kombat 3" (weird parallel worlds, no?) and running off to get food and whatever. They were a pretty good crowd to watch with, though, yelling shit only at the real proper times and discussing plans for a live action reenactment on the quad. I want to be Jeff Goldblum. No, I just mean in general. :P But, I do have the sort of feeling that I would be the one making jokes even as I was being trounced by dinosaurs and shit. And, if you do ever get the DVD, watch the stop motion version of the kitchen raptor scene. The kids running was beyond hilarious each time.
"I had forgiven you for tricking me again Dunno, anytime a girl likes me, I feel like I'm pulling off the craziest scam possible. Like, Andrea is the only girl in the Jurassic Illini, and she's all chummy with them or whatever, and they're all better looking than me (OK, actually, they aren't), but I'm the one she pulls aside so we can hang out in the lounge on her floor. I'm the one who gets to talk with her and throw chunks of foam (not asbestos hopefully) from my farting chair at her. I'm the one who gets to play with her hair while we watch Rushmore (Another awesome DVD feature - the MTV "Max Fischer Players" spots are hilarious!). I'm the one who probably should have kissed her during that brief pause at the end of the night, but oops. Next time. I'm pretty freaking lucky, is what I am. For while I am not a huge pile of mutant, I am less than happy with my complexion, and she is very pretty. So... yeah. *blush* They have one of those radar speed things going north on Lincoln. It said I was going 17 mph. Not too damn bad, says I. Another one of those days. Which days? Tuesdays. I tried very hard to be productive. Up, guard, nap, study, clean room, shower, infinite delays until quiz, quiz, guard, register for classes (Gypped, gypped, gypped - but I am taking "Introduction to Retardation," which should certainly prove a big test of my character), clean bathroom (It's so shiny and nice now!), study study study, sleep, study. OK, maybe "study" isn't quite the right word. "Learn" perhaps is better, but then it makes me sound pathetic. Anyway, after a whole semester of stuff about the eyes, the perception class moved onto touch for the last lesson. Quite an improvement; I've only learned about that twice before. OK, three times. Spritz and I would keep going out for fast food and then return home just in time to watch the last 15 minutes of whatever African-American sitcom was on. I have resumed my love affair with glitter gel pens. Stupid gayest writing utensil ever. I need to put air in my bike tires. I know this, and it's so quick to do. The place is right down the street even. And still, haven't done it. I picked up Andrea at the library, and we went out to eat. I wasn't hungry, but that's sure as hell something you never, ever say. I remember when relationships were awkward. Well, I guess they still often are. But I just have fun with her, so I keep trying to think of things for us to do until it eventually gets to the point where we don't actually need specific things to do. But, there is an Eric party tomorrow, and that's as good as anything in my mind. Oh - and yes, again, probably shoulda done what I shoulda, but I was dropping her off in front of FAR, and as I bent towards her to give her a hug, my foot started to shift off the brake, and we lurched forward, and it hardly seemed like the right time. OK, for me, it was obviously the perfect time, but God knows what would happen if we kissed. I'd hit the accelerator, and we'd hit a parking meter or something. I'll unretard myself soon enough. Promise. Stupid being content. I better conjure up some jealousy or something. I guess I do sort of envy Shanks and Andy. The episode of "Aqua Teen" they made and sent in is actually going to be put on the second season DVD. How nuts is that? They'll have fans!. Dorks like me will be pointing out how good the bonus features are because of them.
drfunk85: proceed sucking me off That's right. I am that good.
I won't be soothed, |