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For the second time...
Sep. 13th, 2004 01:19 pmAfter spending a good bit of time trying to update this journal, Explorer crashed yet again taking a good bit of journal with it... I was going to go off on Explorer and how they should have their own little circle in Hell, preferably one where they're forced to watch "Manos": Hands of Fate, the worst movie ever made, over and over until they die, but fortunately for those who don't care, Sarah brightened my day considerably by giving me a whole cupful of grapes. You rock, Sarah.
Some stuff happened this weekend... went to my brother's 7:00 IN THE FREAKING MORNING soccer game... if that's not love, I don't know what is... The first game of the season is always the hardest, so we weren't expecting total greatness... this was reinforced by the fact that in the first five minutes the opposing team made as many goals... Danny's new coach is horrible. He only had two forwards, one of which was his son [yeah, no favoritism there, no sir] and most of the game was them trying so hard to get to the other goal with absolutely noone backing them up. Hee... if you've ever been to a kid's soccer game, there's a constant patter of "Back them up, what the HELL ARE YOU DOING??? THAT WAS THE BALL! Go after it! GET IT OUT OF THERE!" from mostly soccer moms. We had a new mom with us this game... her daughter had just started. The team was doing something particularly stupid, and we were yelling, "BACK 'EM UP! Austin, get the ball! Twin, hit it! HIT IT! GET IT OUT OF THERE!" A moment of silence as we watched the ball go into our goal-- a bad thing. And then the new mom shouted, "No-- wait-- that's not right!" Hilarity ensued for a brief moment, but then we remembered that a goal had been scored and we returned to trying to will the ball away by the sheer force of our latent psychic powers. The halfbacks seemed to be afraid to cross the line... the fullbacks were too busy looking at important things like dirt and grass to notice the ball steaming towards them... there were about four players in all who actually made an effort, but even that didn't help because as soon as the kid started to really work it, the coach would replace them with another kid. Danny was great... he was all over the field, saved our team from a few goals... Blocked a ball with his butt, which was great because Dad jumped up and yelled "That's thinking with your..." and then he thought about it and sat back down... The final score was somewhere in the teens, I can't quite remember the exact number as apathy set in after the other team scored their tenth goal on us... For those who don't speak Soccerese, we lost so badly that we probably ended up with a negative score. Little children will spit on us as we walk by. Mothers will scare their children into practicing by telling them what we scored, or rather, didn't score. Civilizations will crumble into dust and still there will remain the memory of that game. Not really... but it was terrible.
Another thing of interest... My dad told me what my first ever joke was. Keep in mind I was somewhere in the area of four at the time... this just proves my sense of humor has always been... different.
Two ants were on a package of grits. One ant asked the other, "Why are you running?" The other ant said, "It says 'Tear along the dotted line."
*punchline drum/cymbal noise*
Yeah...
Also, yesterday Samantha picked me up to go to Melyssa's and, just in case we were being followed by a super secret agent, we made sure to take a long and twisting way to her apartment. After making sure that we'd shaken anyone trying to tail us, we made our way to the apartment. [for that read: "We got lost. And we got lost. And we got lost again."]
Today in Brit Lit 212, while learning about Robert Burns, we got to see exactly how haggis is made. Isn't that a treat? Wouldn't YOU like to see exactly how haggis is made? Wouldn't YOU like to join me in the club of "I Don't Think I'll Ever Eat Again And Forget Going To Scotland, I'm Checking Every Meat Product I Ever Eat Because No One Should Eat Processed Sheep Fat,Stomach, Heart And Lung Encased In Other Nasty Body Parts, I Mean Nobody, You Can Keep Your Freaky Foods To Yourselves." Membership is free, offices of VP, Secretary, and Treasurer are open to any interested parties.
Some stuff happened this weekend... went to my brother's 7:00 IN THE FREAKING MORNING soccer game... if that's not love, I don't know what is... The first game of the season is always the hardest, so we weren't expecting total greatness... this was reinforced by the fact that in the first five minutes the opposing team made as many goals... Danny's new coach is horrible. He only had two forwards, one of which was his son [yeah, no favoritism there, no sir] and most of the game was them trying so hard to get to the other goal with absolutely noone backing them up. Hee... if you've ever been to a kid's soccer game, there's a constant patter of "Back them up, what the HELL ARE YOU DOING??? THAT WAS THE BALL! Go after it! GET IT OUT OF THERE!" from mostly soccer moms. We had a new mom with us this game... her daughter had just started. The team was doing something particularly stupid, and we were yelling, "BACK 'EM UP! Austin, get the ball! Twin, hit it! HIT IT! GET IT OUT OF THERE!" A moment of silence as we watched the ball go into our goal-- a bad thing. And then the new mom shouted, "No-- wait-- that's not right!" Hilarity ensued for a brief moment, but then we remembered that a goal had been scored and we returned to trying to will the ball away by the sheer force of our latent psychic powers. The halfbacks seemed to be afraid to cross the line... the fullbacks were too busy looking at important things like dirt and grass to notice the ball steaming towards them... there were about four players in all who actually made an effort, but even that didn't help because as soon as the kid started to really work it, the coach would replace them with another kid. Danny was great... he was all over the field, saved our team from a few goals... Blocked a ball with his butt, which was great because Dad jumped up and yelled "That's thinking with your..." and then he thought about it and sat back down... The final score was somewhere in the teens, I can't quite remember the exact number as apathy set in after the other team scored their tenth goal on us... For those who don't speak Soccerese, we lost so badly that we probably ended up with a negative score. Little children will spit on us as we walk by. Mothers will scare their children into practicing by telling them what we scored, or rather, didn't score. Civilizations will crumble into dust and still there will remain the memory of that game. Not really... but it was terrible.
Another thing of interest... My dad told me what my first ever joke was. Keep in mind I was somewhere in the area of four at the time... this just proves my sense of humor has always been... different.
Two ants were on a package of grits. One ant asked the other, "Why are you running?" The other ant said, "It says 'Tear along the dotted line."
*punchline drum/cymbal noise*
Yeah...
Also, yesterday Samantha picked me up to go to Melyssa's and, just in case we were being followed by a super secret agent, we made sure to take a long and twisting way to her apartment. After making sure that we'd shaken anyone trying to tail us, we made our way to the apartment. [for that read: "We got lost. And we got lost. And we got lost again."]
Today in Brit Lit 212, while learning about Robert Burns, we got to see exactly how haggis is made. Isn't that a treat? Wouldn't YOU like to see exactly how haggis is made? Wouldn't YOU like to join me in the club of "I Don't Think I'll Ever Eat Again And Forget Going To Scotland, I'm Checking Every Meat Product I Ever Eat Because No One Should Eat Processed Sheep Fat,Stomach, Heart And Lung Encased In Other Nasty Body Parts, I Mean Nobody, You Can Keep Your Freaky Foods To Yourselves." Membership is free, offices of VP, Secretary, and Treasurer are open to any interested parties.
