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My morning: accidentally typing my e-mail password in the wrong field. On a projector. In front of my 6th graders. My password: sp00g3cann0n
...for all the things I've achieved, I can't shake the notion that my life has mostly been spent converting breakfast cereal into body hair.
...wait, so NONE of you quietly make the TIE Fighter noise with your mouth when you walk by someone really quickly?
Apple holds an undisclosed patent on a polished metal alloy that, upon unwrapping, secretly scratches itself when left unattended.
To all my teachers I drove to drink before 5 pm: I'm so, so sorry. To the irksome girly-girls in my 6th grade class: This Bud's For You™.
The next time you need a conversation torpedoed, tentatively (but earnestly!) declare that you "kinda get" autoerotic asphyxiation.
"Portland probably has the highest number of [mispurposed] Ball jars per capita of any U.S. city."
- Rachel
"The recursive thing about Tiggers, of course, is that Tiggers are recursive things."
- @effingboring
Giving a Chemistry final exam. Very, very tempted to declare: "for the next 25 seconds, you may cheat as much as possible", and just watch.
You kick ONE stray kitten in front of the wrong daycare and everybody looks at you like you just got Goebbels a Cosmo in Hell's airport bar.
...I now realize that, as I left for work, Rachel was still asleep, and that I was making affectionate whale-coos in reply to a braking bus.
Me: "What's your favorite song unintentionally about poop? Mine's 'Scatman'."
Rachel, UNBELIEVABLY quickly: "Pop, Lock & Drop It".
Playing this game where I turn off the lights, blast Daft Punk's "Tron" soundtrack, strap LEDs to the cats, and chase them while on salvia.
The word "staycation" seems intolerably smug and stupid to me. It's like describing someone totally unlike Chewbacca as a "nobacca".
Doing the bulldance. Feeling the flow.
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