November 11th, 2005
|05:09 pm - A short meme|
Those who know me well know that my life isn't actually real, anyway.
Well, at least a good 1/2 of it isn't. I don't think. Actually, I do think it is, but others might disagree.
So, in light of that, as I was crusing through LJ in my first moment of free time in over 24 hours, I was pleased to see this meme on edelweiss68's LJ:
Please comment with a *fake* memory of you and me together.
Please participate, because it appears I'm coming back to work on Sunday, and I'll need some amusing stories to remember.
Even at time and a half, I'm not sure this is worth it. Good thing I scheduled vacation for Monday, purely on accident.
Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: "Piece of Work", -JB
|Date:||November 11th, 2005 10:28 pm (UTC)|| |
I'm sure that you remember the time that you and I sailed to that island out in the Florida Keys... We went snorkeling, I almost drowned and you got chased by a flock of sea gulls. We went hiking, hiked the entire island, waded in the lagoons, splashed in the waterfalls, picked beautiful exotic flowers and camped under the stars on the beach. We drank coconut rum, and my skirt caught on fire while we were dancing around the bonfire. Damn it, that was fucking scary! We swam naked in the ocean that night, god that was so great...floating there in the warm, salty water, listening to the waves and looking at the stars. I'll never forget it. When can we go back?
Wait, didn't that happen with you and ME?!
Remember that time when you and I flew off to Bali because we were bored one night and sat on the beach drinking fancy drinks and throwing paper umbrellas at each other? You caught me in the eye, you bastard, and scratched my cornea.
I'll never forgive you for that.
Well, if you'd bought some real alcohol, rather than the fancy shit, my aim would have been a lot better.
But it was a great night. Or, would have been, if you hadn't ruined it by screaming so damn much.
|Date:||November 11th, 2005 10:49 pm (UTC)|| |
So there we were...
(In honor of Veteran's day)
...wandering around gate 2 street, blitz out of our feacking gourds. chronarchy
had thought he had ordered water at Good times
, so he down the whole bottle in one swig. He almost lit the bar on fire when he finished, but the bartender wasn't smoking at the time.
Anyway, so we stumble into the Banana show, and to make a long story short I've never seen him eat a banana again and I did think a woman could honestly make change like that.
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 12:26 am (UTC)|| |
Re: So there we were...
Lemme tell you, that show was a mistake. Mistake, I tell you!
Now I have to get all my damn potassium from kiwis.
Damn New Zelanders are hard to catch, too.
Well, I was going to post a fake one, but I liked this one so much I thought I would cheat.
Do you remember that one time when we got lost after hiking Tar Hollow and wound up in Tuscon, Ohio? And we ran into that rowdy bunch of sailors at the general store who later turned out to be genuine pirates? I hadn't even known there WAS a river there, let alone that river piracy was the source of that crazy town's income, but I swear I will never forget. It was brilliant how you traded them that extra bottle of mead for a chance to sail with them that night, and even more brilliant how we got to wear sexy pirate clothes and brandish REAL machetes. We spent all night and well into the next day pillaging unsuspecting small-towns nearby, which got pillaged pretty often but fortunately (for us) never learned their lesson.
It was the most ravishing night of our lives (no pun intended) and we both got the Jolly Roger insignia tattooed on secret parts of our body... oh man, I have a huge grin on my face just thinking about it.
And the best part, of course, was that upon getting home so late, we didn't tell ANYBODY what had happened... so we now we both have secret tattoos and quiet plans to slip back to Tuscon again when no one's looking.
I think the best part about the night was how we figured out how to make the tattoos fit together like that. I mean, everything just *fits* there, doesn't it?
Well, my half of the Jolly Roger is just waiting to be reunited with yours, baby.
Paper umbrellas, it seems, are my calling card.
But it's a good thing I had my boots on. Never trust a man with clean boots, I say. And certainly never trust a man with no boots.
But the trial and error on that was a bit messy, I suppose I can admit now, as I look back on it.
Ah, but you were the prettiest girl on the Seine that night, for sure.
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 12:09 am (UTC)|| |
It started with a grail, a holy grail. You were a gorgeous blonde, I was a man with a fedora and a whip who--
There was the time we road-tripped across Eastern Europe and our citroen broke down in the middle of a tiny Czech town, and since it was going to take the better part of a week or two for us to get back on the road, an old man offered to let us stay at his house free of charge (well, sans the American chocolate we had in our luggage, which seemed a fair enough deal). And one misty morning before we were supposed to leave, we hiked to the top of the hill the town was built on, and looked down on two thousand years of incredible, unique history and knew we were the luckiest people in the world to have had our car break down.
Now I really want to go home to Europe. Come with me. :)
Funny, I'll be in Europe next week (strangely honestly). I promise I'll be thinking of you when I hike to the top of a hill in a small town. Or you can meet me in Salzburg. I can promise you a place to stay, and this time we'll share the chocolate, as the rent there is free.
As for being the luckiest people in the world? I still insist that it was because of the wonderful company, really. But yes, had the car not broken down, I think that we simply wouldn't be where we are today.
I'm totally taking my fedora with me, btw. I'm going back and forth on the whip.
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 12:10 am (UTC)|| |
The arson. Definately the arson.
Crap, did I say that out loud?!?!?
I mean the bunny hugging. Yes, bunnies.
*nods* Yeah. The bunnies. Cute and fuzzy and on fire. . . Wait. Crap, I said it out loud, too!
Remember that time I was driving through Ohio? I stopped and met you at the 7-11 down the street for Icees and snack food. But then we ended up banging in the bathroom.
Oh, how could I forget? Never had such a hot lay!
But I admit that I was a bit irked when you called that number on the bathroom wall and invited the person to come join us.
Of course, all feelings of anger evaporated when I saw that she was damn hot, too!
Well, there was that one time when I was walking down a street in Providence, Thayer Street to be exact, when who did mine eyes behold? You, dressed up as a cowboy, strutting down the sidewalk towards me. I said "Mr. Dangler, whatever are you doing in Rhode Island?"
To that you responded, "Why, I am here to drink soymilk, which for some reason I cannot get back home," and proceeded to chug soymilk from a carton.
A Providence Police Officer driving by, seeing a man in full cowboy outfit drinking from a carton, assumed that it was something besides just soymilk. He pulled over, and proceeded to arrest the both of us, because I was obviously an accessory to the depraved acts of perversion that could only be committed by a cowboy. We spent the rest of the night playing poker and dominoes with drunkards and hookers, who for some reason did not even ask about your outfit.
In the morning we were bailed out by my girlfriend Kris, who was able to get the charge waved by flashing a cop some shoelace.
Oh, I do remember that. I was on my way to the Harvard Celtic Colloquium to see Cei present his Cernunnos paper. Did you know that Southwest serves the Boston area from there? My other choice was to fly into Manchester, but I realized quite quickly that the soy milk was just not as good that far north.
Good thing I built in an extra day to my travel schedule. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have just been late to the first lecture, I would have missed the Colloquium all together!
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 02:48 am (UTC)|| |
I remember when you and I competed in the two-man luge in the 1992 Winter Olympics. We blew the USA try-outs due to heavy drinking the night before, but we did end up making the Finnish team.
It's amazing how those judges didn't even question that we were Finnish when we showed up with a few bottles of cheap liquor and speaking gibberish that sounded vaguely scandinavian.
Little did they know that we were just joking around, speaking Latin with the vocal patterns of the Sweedish Chef.
Borkus Borkum Borko!
mike doesn't pretend to be irish at the festival
so there was no talking you into wearing a kilt, but when i showed up with chaps and spurs as an alternate cosutme you couldn't resist. we danced some irish reals, you fliriting shamelessly till you had me beet red and laughing in stiches, and that was your only goal. you'r ornariness got us both soaked in ale, and we later passed our curled under a oak tree exchangeing toes of heroism via zelda
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 02:25 pm (UTC)|| |
Re: mike doesn't pretend to be irish at the festival
Maybe you wouldn't have been blushing so much if you'd let me wear pants under those chaps.
I'm surprised they didn't throw us out!
|Date:||November 12th, 2005 04:24 am (UTC)|| |
There was that two week vacation we had one August. We traveled to the great parks of the Pacific Northwest. It started in the North Cascades and made stops at Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens, Crater Lake, Redwoods and the Olympic Rainforest. We sat in the mountain passes sharing old stories and thinking about life.
At the end there was still time to play some old NES games(only the two player versions of course) and enjoy a ferry ride across the Puget Sound.
It would have been a longer vacation, too, except that Dad kept frowning on both of us quiting work and just living out the rest of our days sneaking around the damn national parks.
Besides, we needed to pay that electic bill in order to play the NES.
(Speaking of, I have the NES here. singingwren
let me borrow a few games, and I got another from wishesofastar
Oh, there was the time we attended that labor union rally on the Oval. When the communist party showed up and led the crowd in an anti-Capitalist chant, we started subtley shifting the crowd toward Brother Jed's side of the oval. It was patient work, nudging the hateful protesters inch by inch.
We got within earshot of Jed's entourage just in time for the communists' rant against organized religion. A fierce melee ensued in which the Jedites hurled Bibles as well as words of fiery scorn. The giant papier maché icon of president Kirwan wearing an executioners hood was set ablaze, toppling into the crowd like a fallen war elephant. Who knew Jed himself would be such a fighter, rolling up his sleeves and wading into the brawl with both fists dispensing divine retribution? We both barely escaped with our lives, and the university had to close the Oval for almost two years for reconstruction.
Well, Brother Jed
, I imagine, has had his share of fisticuffs in the name of the Lord before. That's why I admire him so.
I'm tempted to say that my ribs are still bruised from that little fight. I think you and I took it pretty bad from both sides: the Communists barely missing us with their Molotov cocktails, and the Fundies nearly clocking us with the Word of God.
Poor Kirwin. It was almost as bad as when OSU was experiementing on cats by putting them on speed. May his effigy rest in pieces.
What do we want?
I had a great time when you visited last year. I'd always wanted to do one of those bus tours of the major sites and visit the Tower of London. But the British Museum was the high point. It got so late we were locked in. I still don't know if they'll let me come back! Next time maybe we'll stick with a river cruise and cocktails. What could go wrong?
Anything involving alcohol, really, is good with me. Even if it involves boats.
But thye may not let me back in the country any time soon, what with my impersonation of a royal guardsman pissing off so many dignitaries!
Well, there was that time we skipped out on Wellspring because neither one of us wanted to be stuck as Preceptor anymore. Instead, we went to Niagara Falls, since I've always wanted to see if I could survive a trip over the falls in a barrel. And I probably would have made it, too, if it hadn't been for your prissy, I'm-afraid-to-take-any-kind-of-risk, prudish attitude. Then I wanted to go bungee-jumping, but NOOOOO... Mr. Sensible wouldn't let me do that, either. Even when I found a couple of red-headed Canadian hotties to distract you while I ran off to do the barrel thing, you were like, "I'm sorry ladies, I just don't go for that sort of thing."
What a stick in the mud you were. I'm never running off with you again.
(And I'm STILL stuck being Preceptor!)
The problem is that I've had my fair share of experience with red-headed Canadians. But yeah, I'm often a total stick in the mud. It's really kind of embarassing, which is why I try to impress people and pretend to not be so stick-in-the-muddy in general.
But damn straight about neither of us wanting to be stuck as preceptor!