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.
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!
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.