Squee

I spent some time in the Little Corner of Moron today.  Sometime after Fiala decided to start referring to me as “Lurch,” I dusted off an old chestnut and asked Brennan which creature would be more beneficial to send into space: a dolphin or Humungo.

Brennan: Well, do we wanna learn, or do we wanna kill things?  What’s the end game here?

Fiala: Have either of you guys seen that video of that teacher beating the shit of a kid?

Brennan: What happened?

Fiala: <crouching down to a sumo-ish fighting stance, eyes wide, freaking thrilled to be telling this story> Dude, she fucking throws a desk and starts punching this 13-year-old kid.  Just kicking his ass.  She dominated that kid.

Me: I’ve never seen you so excited to tell a story.  Ever.

… This is going to be Fiala someday.


via ffffound

Even though I’m carpal tunnel-y today and still exhausted from Midwest Mayhem last night (but how cool is it that I can say “I woke up drunk” to my boss during today’s performance review and she responds with “awesome!”), I’m in a pretty good mood because MY BOOKS ARE HERE.

I didn’t realize how hard I’d been jonesing for books until I saw the package at my door this evening.  I may have squeeeed! out loud.  My pulse actually quickened as I opened the box and took them out.  They’re so pretty!  They fit in a stack so nicely!  They smell so good!  And I only paid seventy cents for them!

Squeeeee!

All you people who go out on Friday nights don’t even know.  I’m going to hit the couch with a new book and the frabjous CD Courtney sent me out of the blue (hey Courtney, I like that Jellyfish tune best).  I won’t spend anything.  I won’t even drink any beer.  And then I’m going to go to bed by 10:30 and it.  Will.  Be.  Great.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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