hangover city tomorrow. uuuuuuuuuunnnnngh.
a co-worker met a teacher of hers from elementary school, and later the teacher grabbed another co-worker’s bum. a good time was had by all.
i hope i make it into bed before i pass out. also, please make the room stop rotating, it’s being obnoxious.
Best voicemail yet (weirder than pregnancy-girl):
Marge, this is Ellen, how many hours is it between here and Yella-knife, when you wanna make a phone call? *click*
In other news, I’m all moved in, life is grand, somewhat busy, also: I am madly in love, so, like, all you hate-ahs can just sod off. Fo’ Sizzle. Like Bacon.
I don’t mean to toot my own horn (in this particular instance), but:
(Auto-reply) Wrapping presents. And bombs. Presents disguised as bombs, and vice-versa. Possibly presents disguised as presents. The possibilities are ENDLESS. If you want to talk, you may call, as the rest of the family is spreading their christ-butter…
Suffering from a headache, I decided to cut off work a bit earlier than I intended, but I would still have to wait for a bus. A friend’s mood had made me think of a song I’m fond of, so I pulled it off my home computer. I love ssh/scp, even if it means bouncing through three servers I have access to in order to get at my Mac.
Listening to John Lee Hooker stomp through the most energetic Boom Boom Boom I’ve ever heard (off of ‘The Rising Sun Collection’, IIRC) and especially Eric Clapton’s incendiary cover of Bob Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright (lyrics here) have lifted my mood and made the headache go away.
And people wonder why I like this music.
I’m still messing off at 4pm though. The rhythm is in my head.
Ember Swift is playing the Marquee on the 27th! YAYAYAYAYAYA! So, like, if I know you and you live in Halifax, reading this has been your agreement to let me drag you to this show. Neener.
My sister found a tape of me when I was about eight years old, telling jokes. Oh, boy, those jokes were the best; I obviously had my routine down, as I led off with this snapper:
Knock Knock
Who’s There
Punch-In-The-Face
Don’t You Understand?
I followed it up with this classic:
Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Lettuce
Lettuce who?
Lettuce in, it’s cold out side! BRRR
I’m afraid my adult brain can’t quite grasp the sophisticated humour of the next one, but here goes:
Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Dick.
Dick who?
Upon hearing these, I’m just devastated that I didn’t pursue this dream.
Jamie: there’s a hostel out in BC that has its rooms built in trees
Andy: cool
Jamie: I’d love to take Pamela out there, take the train back
Andy: it’s a fair swap I guess
