Wednesday, February 01, 2006

what?

what up folks??? Pacer game again tonight...hopefully we can break this horrid losing streak.

I am waiting around to go to the Pacer game. I wanted to go running but I brought my running shoes and no running clothes. STUPID ME!

Ever hear of Rachel Ray? On the food network? She's pretty cool, and she has some pretty awesome cookbooks out. They are all "30 minute meals" well at least that is what it says. It doesn't really take 30 minutes, but they are all pretty good (well, I have only tried 5, and 4 of them were good) The other one may be good if you like ricotta cheese...I mean REALLY like.

The Notebook. I watched it last night. It's pretty sappy. I makes you be sappy and ask sappy questions and wish for sappy stuff. It may be an overall death trap for guys. Guys don't like those kind of movies. It makes their girls sappy. They may say they like it because then the girl will be all "OH....that is sooo sweet..." then, she will immediately equate him with being like Noah and fall madly in love. Well, maybe not, but maybe so...eh...I don't know.

I'm probably making little to no sense. My head is swimming from classes all day.

It was good times...great times...

Anything new with all of you? Tell me a good story

5 comments:

um... yeah... said...

i get to see you tomorrow! WOOHOO!

Anonymous said...

The Notebook is the most painfully slow movie I have ever seen ... maybe it was that it was obvious to me exactly what was going to happen like 10-15 minutes into the movie and then it took sooo long to go exactly where I knew it would. It's like watching a baseball game in super slow-mo that you already know the final score of because you're watching a tape (not that I would ever waste tape on recording baseball, just like I will never watch The Notebook again). It's worse than a deathtrap, it's all out torture. :)

... said...

A story... I'll let the readers be the judge of the goodness of it:

My parents were going to Michigan for the weekend. I had just turned 22, and it was summer, so I was living at home and had money. Now every time before my parents left for an extended time before, there was always the standard, "No parties..." placed in the same spot in the good-bye spiel. Well this time in the spiel, there was just a pause. And a look.

Now a picture is worth a thousand words, but this look was worth only about 39. It said, "We don't want you to have a party, but if you do, don't get busted, don't have underage drinking in case you do get busted, don't get busted, and for God's sake don't f&*k anything up. It's our house."

How many of you just counted those words?

So I had a party. A bonfire, since my parents live in the country. Logan's sister shows up first, and we're the only two there for the lighting of the fire. I pour a gallon or so of gasoline on the wood, get back about thirty feet and fire a bottle rocket dead into the center of it. Fizzle... POP... nothin.

Ever seen the Road Runner Cartoons? I'm Wiley Coyote.

I grab the engine starter fluid (essentially ether in a spray can... ether is VERY volatile and VERY combustible... don't try this at home) and trail back about 15 feet from the pile...

I'll stop here to tell you that at this time my hair was grown down to my chin. It was sweet. I miss it.

Where was I? Ah yes, I strike the match...

The next part is kinda hazy. All I really remember is ORANGE with some WHITE and RED.

I don't know whether it was the blast or my reaction, but I soon found myself backpeddling with Jovan (Logan's sister) screaming... then laughing at my singed hair and eyebrows.

So the fire was going, the party was soon underway.

A little history: at my parents' house, we have a rope on a tree that has been there in some way, shape, or form since I was about seven. It used to entertain my brother and I for hours after school or whenever when we were young... um, we made a game with it. You'd be suprised how entertaining a rope hanging from a tree can be... anyway...

About halfway through my bottle of Hypnotiq, and in the middle of a conversation, a thought occurs, "I've never climbed the rope on that tree... but I think I can now."

And I meant NOW, I cap the bottle and drop it as I bolt across the yard to the rope. I leap at it with a final bound and grab on. Hand-over-hand I climb right up to the top faster than I ever thought possible.

"I did it! I did it! I actually climbed it! I came, I saw, and I conquered! This is great!" I'm thinking at the top. Then another thought occurs: "Wow, I'm really high up... getting up here was easy, getting down doesn't look so easy."

I call on Logan, who is reading my thoughts and is like, "Dude, just one hand at a time, support yourself with your legs!"

"Um... okay." Okay, I can do this. I wrap my legs around like so, and take my right hand off and put it under my left hand on the rope. Okay, I did it once, I can do it twenty more ti-

Everything from here kinda happened in slow motion. I notice that right as I loosen my left hand's grip, the rope starts moving really fast, and I'm not moving my hands... This can only mean one thing.

I greet the ground heels first, do a backroll, and as my shoulders touch I throw my hands back into a successful backroll extension (push off with your arms, complete the flip in the air, and land on your feet).

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Someone asks...

Quick pain analysis... none! "Yea..." I say, somewhat shocked. Wait, what's that... I smell burning skin... pain analysis shows my HANDS ARE ON FIRE!

Ever seen Ace Ventura 2 when he gets the spear in his leg? That's what I'm like, only with my hands... "WHAAAAA!" I scream and run for the cooler and submerge my hands... "Ahhhhh..."

My hands were fine, suprisingly nothing was broken on me, and I lived to climb another day. Hell I was playing guitar while Jared sang later that night. That kid loved to serenade the ladies...

So I hope that was at least a good story... it was fun for me anyway.

rose said...

wow

Anonymous said...

My parents were going to Michigan for the weekend. I had just turned 22, and it was summer, so I was living at home and had money. Now every time before my parents left for an extended time before, there was always the standard, "No parties..." placed in the same spot in the good-bye spiel. Well this time in the spiel, there was just a pause. And a look.


This reminds me of a story....

This one time at Band Camp.......!