I'm very very tired today.
but that won't stop me from bloggin up a storm.
Yesterday on my ride home I decided to call Jenn Kerrs. I think she changed her name to Singer or Kerrs-Singer when she got married, which kind of robs me of the joy of the sound of "jennkerrs" when said as if one word. but good for you with the whole marriage thing. i called her to ask her... in school she had a friend named dana (i was friends with her as well but you know) and my friend todd sort of liked her and made her a mixtape, and included this song called "you suck" where the refrain is, not surprisingly, you suck. and i like that concept a lot, because he went to the trouble of making a girl a mixtape but was then working against himself by including that song, catchy as it may have been. and i was wondering if jennkerrs remembered the name of the band, because it was quite a catchy tune. and also, the whole giving that song to people aspect, very funny. the phrase 'you suck' had been in my head because of a little project i'm working on. i wanted to write a sitcom about a manchild, and said manchild is hated by his mother. the pilot is almost finished. nause and i are crafting pure gold here people. pure gold. in the credits, we see the mother give birth to her son, and the dr puts her baby in her hands, and she looks into his face, and says "you suck"
why would someone say that to a baby? the baby doesn't understand you lady. get with the program! aaanywho.
this morning starts my new plan of riding my bike to kristina's house and carpooling in the morning. it's better than biking the whole way because it's only half way, and the not scary part to bike. getting in and out of the valley has some car-laden streets i'm not too fond of. also, it's not so much biking either time, so i don't have to get up all kinds of early. and i hate driving. so i'm cutting that out of my life. we shall see how it goes. my sister keeps telling me to buy a helmet. as if i want helmet hair all day at work! get with the program sisterpants.
today was the spesh salad day at the circle seven cafeteria. (that's one of the disney commissaries - but it's a few miles away). i call every single day to ask what the salad selection is. the woman who answers the phone is often not happy to hear from me. hey lady, if you published the salad selection online with the other info, i wouldn't have to call you every day. the good news, no one ever programmed my name into the phone, so it's not me she hates. it's andy meeks. that's the guy who used to sit here. his name pops up on someone's screen whenever i make a call. so, they had the good salad today. the good salad is the southwestern caesar salad. it has some mixed greens, tomatoes, cheese, tortilla strips, and corn. i know, corn in a salad? it kinda works/is unnoticeable. but the best thing is the dressing. it's something spicy yet cool, sweet yet savory, it's a combination of disparate elements that do battle on my palate with every memory i have ever had and in the end i am left with a viking funeral of lettuce going down my throat. what's up with these sentences? i should stop mixing metaphors and/or angel dust with my drinking water. but i had no way of getting to this salad. it's about 4 miles away. then i remembered tony. he is a buddy over in the arts section, and we get lunch sometimes together. i felt it would be totally goache to ask him to eat, tell him i wanted to eat there, and have him drive. so i asked him what his plans were for lunch, and he said we should eat together. we couldn't come up with a place so i suggested we systematically start eating at all the different commissaries, and he agreed. tony, you walked into my trap. so we went. tony got chicken cordon bleu. he was impressed with the quality of his meal and the sheer class of the dish he was served. he even commented on the fine bouquet of the kit-kat bars he had for dessert. we went with elizabeth, who works in tony's department there, doing graphic design. she is nice, and has a teensy slight accent. i asked her where she was born and raised. russia. i asked her if it was true that the russian economy was based on borrowed milk and mail-order brides. she seemed upset so i quickly changed the subject by asking her if she had ever seen snow. ok that didn't happen, but i think she most likely found me to be as charming as all get out. natch.
ps. HAPPY JEW YEAR!!!
Would you go shofar as to say the same to me?
but that won't stop me from bloggin up a storm.
Yesterday on my ride home I decided to call Jenn Kerrs. I think she changed her name to Singer or Kerrs-Singer when she got married, which kind of robs me of the joy of the sound of "jennkerrs" when said as if one word. but good for you with the whole marriage thing. i called her to ask her... in school she had a friend named dana (i was friends with her as well but you know) and my friend todd sort of liked her and made her a mixtape, and included this song called "you suck" where the refrain is, not surprisingly, you suck. and i like that concept a lot, because he went to the trouble of making a girl a mixtape but was then working against himself by including that song, catchy as it may have been. and i was wondering if jennkerrs remembered the name of the band, because it was quite a catchy tune. and also, the whole giving that song to people aspect, very funny. the phrase 'you suck' had been in my head because of a little project i'm working on. i wanted to write a sitcom about a manchild, and said manchild is hated by his mother. the pilot is almost finished. nause and i are crafting pure gold here people. pure gold. in the credits, we see the mother give birth to her son, and the dr puts her baby in her hands, and she looks into his face, and says "you suck"
why would someone say that to a baby? the baby doesn't understand you lady. get with the program! aaanywho.
this morning starts my new plan of riding my bike to kristina's house and carpooling in the morning. it's better than biking the whole way because it's only half way, and the not scary part to bike. getting in and out of the valley has some car-laden streets i'm not too fond of. also, it's not so much biking either time, so i don't have to get up all kinds of early. and i hate driving. so i'm cutting that out of my life. we shall see how it goes. my sister keeps telling me to buy a helmet. as if i want helmet hair all day at work! get with the program sisterpants.
today was the spesh salad day at the circle seven cafeteria. (that's one of the disney commissaries - but it's a few miles away). i call every single day to ask what the salad selection is. the woman who answers the phone is often not happy to hear from me. hey lady, if you published the salad selection online with the other info, i wouldn't have to call you every day. the good news, no one ever programmed my name into the phone, so it's not me she hates. it's andy meeks. that's the guy who used to sit here. his name pops up on someone's screen whenever i make a call. so, they had the good salad today. the good salad is the southwestern caesar salad. it has some mixed greens, tomatoes, cheese, tortilla strips, and corn. i know, corn in a salad? it kinda works/is unnoticeable. but the best thing is the dressing. it's something spicy yet cool, sweet yet savory, it's a combination of disparate elements that do battle on my palate with every memory i have ever had and in the end i am left with a viking funeral of lettuce going down my throat. what's up with these sentences? i should stop mixing metaphors and/or angel dust with my drinking water. but i had no way of getting to this salad. it's about 4 miles away. then i remembered tony. he is a buddy over in the arts section, and we get lunch sometimes together. i felt it would be totally goache to ask him to eat, tell him i wanted to eat there, and have him drive. so i asked him what his plans were for lunch, and he said we should eat together. we couldn't come up with a place so i suggested we systematically start eating at all the different commissaries, and he agreed. tony, you walked into my trap. so we went. tony got chicken cordon bleu. he was impressed with the quality of his meal and the sheer class of the dish he was served. he even commented on the fine bouquet of the kit-kat bars he had for dessert. we went with elizabeth, who works in tony's department there, doing graphic design. she is nice, and has a teensy slight accent. i asked her where she was born and raised. russia. i asked her if it was true that the russian economy was based on borrowed milk and mail-order brides. she seemed upset so i quickly changed the subject by asking her if she had ever seen snow. ok that didn't happen, but i think she most likely found me to be as charming as all get out. natch.
ps. HAPPY JEW YEAR!!!
Would you go shofar as to say the same to me?
posted by pvf at 4:00 PM
4 Comments:
brothertrousers--
you need to get a helmet, because if you die in a bike accident everyone will say, "you know, it's a shame he's not around now to appreciate his full head of non-helmety hair." Or something like that.
GET A HELMET!
--sisterpants
helmets are for squares.
but brother, it's hip to be square.
hip to be square tops the list of songs i don't want you guys to play when i am in my lack of bicycle helmet accident induced coma.
and please please please promise me that you will keep me alive in whatever vegetative state until i have gotten my money's worth from my health insurance.
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