||[Feb. 10th, 2006|11:29 pm]
I haven't given a real journal update in such a long time. On either journa but, now that I have some interesting stories to share, I feel that I can actually type up something that won't be something along the lines of Today was a good day. The End. Fin.|
Yesterday, the battle of the lunch tables insued. It's really just a onesided war and only one kid is really involved. Everyone else are just the people being blown to bits by the tater tot bombs and Half Pizza knives. Anyway. We ( meaning myself, Rachel, Buddy, Daryl, Alan, Barbara, Megan, the usual. ) were sitting at our usual table enjoying our lunch. I was having a discussion with Daryl about how Pamela Anderson would blow if someone took a fork to her chest when suddenly, out of no where, a tater tot flew through the air and landed on my sleeve. Now, had this happened any other day, I most likely would have taken that tater tot and shoved into the kid's eye socket. However, yesterday, I was in a peaceful jolly mood. I shit you not. So, I look at the tater tot to Daryl who looked like she was about to pee herself from laughing. I was later told it was because I had a look of severe confusion on my face. I look at the tater tot. I pick up the tater tot and wander over to the bomber. This kid is small. I could do serious damage and let's face it, I'm not exactly superwoman. I lean over holdign up the tater tot. "I don't like tater tots." I say before setting the tot down and walk back to my table. Daryl is still laughing, joined by the others. Five minutes later, as we're listening to buddy tell us the story of the guy who had his testicle stabbed into his body by a picket fence, a tater tot flys through the air landing on Buddy's knee. Again, I stare, as well as everyone else. We laugh. I get up and go BACK over to the table. "I told you, I don't like tater tots." I give it back and join the others at our table. Two minutes later, a wad of foil wizzes past us to Dustin's table. The plotting begins.
We told Mr. Ridley about the dive bomber tot and he explained he would watch him today. He talked to the kid. We feel it would have little effect so, we came up with a few plans on how to get back at this kid. One is to have a sit in around their table. If he throws a tot at us, we all get up and sit around them and begin having one of our sick lunch conversations. They can get ugly. Another option is to get in this kids face because, after tossing the bombs, he hides his face in his hands like we can't see him. Haha, jackass. Get in his face and scare the shit out of him, that's Plan B. Plan C was our most violent and perhaps, the most amusing. We would get Dustin and Kaleb, the two strongest to hold a giant rubber band above the table. We would then place a large medicine ball on the rubber band, like a sling shot. Then, as his face is hidden, he would not see the medicine ball coming and his face would be broken and he would be pushed through the glass window behind him. We could get away with it too as the security camera is hanging above this kids head and the only thing the camera would see would ball to face contact. We wouldn't have to worry about Mr. Ridley as he stares at a spot on the ceiling and doesn't pay attention. A food fight could break out and he wouldn't notice till someone pegged him in the head with something. He's perfected the art of sleeping with his eyes open.
My other amusing story is something I remembered from a long time ago, over the summer. A guy I met at the Rose and what he shared with me about coffee.
I love the Rose's coffee. ( The real reason I was upset when it closed. ) So, we went once and I bought a cup of french vanilla coffee with a touch of irish cream. Good stuff. As Elizabeth was off talking to people I found annoying, I sat down at this table. A guy was sitting there already, totally shit faced. You know, smoked too much weed then drank one too many. So, this guy is staring at my coffee cup while I'm stiring. Creepy. I take a drink. He's still staring at the cup. "What?" I asked. "Did you know coffee in a cup is like...the cycle of life." "No. No I didn't." WRONG ANSWER. He thus began to explain. "You...are the spoon." que me staring at me spoon. "I'm shiny, made of metal, and have a big head?" "No man, no. See, you start out at the beginning, like when you put the spoon in the cup. You start stirring, you age, right? So like, when you get half way through it's like, your mid-life. Some people have a mid-life crisis and start moving backwards. Not you man, not you. You just kept going. So, you do a full cycle and die. But then like, your reborn and start over again." "What happens when I take the spoon out?" "It's like you stopped because your not sure how you want your life to continue." "Right." There is a pause here of silence as I take a somewhat hesitant sip of my life coffee. He breaks the silence by asking "Do they sell begals in there?" "Yeah." "Sweet. I have the mad munchies." He gets up and walks away. I never saw him again.
So, next time your drinking a cup of coffee, remember it's bad to do drugs kiddies.