smiling fry day
This morning while I was eating breakfast, a memory slapped me upside the head. Needless to say, it came out of nowhere.
Picture it. Sometime in 1999 or even perhaps 2000. Somehow I had gotten confused over the configuration of some Evangelion VHS tapes and forgotten that, like the first tape, tapes two and three also contained two episodes. So, since Nick had since borrowed the tapes, I made my way down to his house to watch the episodes I had missed with him.
After the anime session was complete, Nick's mom happened to come back with food for us, which we gladly accepted.
Meanwhile, Alex walks by. Alex, in case you didn't know, is Nick's 19-year-old brother. He used to live in this somewhat large room in the basement, and I don't know what the hell was wrong with it, but damnit, something was wrong with it. Once upon a time, one of Alex's little buddies bounded down the stairs and into Alex's pad. Minutes later, the same guy was again coming down the steps. The only way upstairs is by that staircase, but he managed to defy science and osmosis-ed himself through the ceiling, or something. Days later, his hoochie-mommas entered his room, then came out an hour or two later wearing a completely different outfit. Granted, this is less puzzling, but hey, it was just as disturbing. Oh, right, and he drove a car into Thompson Lake.
But yeah, moving on. Alex walks by.
'Hey, Kate,' he says, making his gimping way towards his room.
'Hey.' He hesitates and does a double-take, as demonstrated in cartoons.
'Damn, who taught you how to eat?' he asks me, grimacing.
I think for a few seconds, knowing the question sounds like the epitome of idiocy but not quite sure why, and eventually I reply, 'Someone had to teach you how to eat?'
Alex never talked to me again, other than to acknowledge my presence.
Oh, wait, my bad. He did talk to me that one time he waltzed into the house as I was straddling Nick and reaching for a remote control that he was keeping from me.
My thoughts looking back on that event? It's hard to tell, as I have difficulties sorting out my feelings at any given moment, but I know it includes COMPLETE AND UTTER DISGUST!
Sadly, the entire day hasn't been much better than that horrible, horrible excuse of a memory that deserves to be thrown into a raging inferno.
During the morning, my brain operates sort of like that 10-year-old blender everyone seems to own. Unless, of course, that someone enjoys experimenting in the creation of alcoholic beverages. We'll just assume that 'everyone' doesn't include the aforementioned 'someones,' just to make things easier. But anyway, continuing with the analogy that's probably already passed its expiration date by now -- you have this 10-year-old blender, right? But for the life of you, the damn frapp� button only emits a sickly little whirring noise before dying away. Frustrated and quivering in rage, you punt the blender into the wall. And as soon as it hits the floor and blender innards splatter everywhere, the blades magically begin to spin, and, much to your surprise, it's (practically) as good as new!
After I got out of the shower this morning, I overheard my mom muttering something about how it was raining outside. Provoked by curiosity, I pulled back the curtain and peered outside.
'Sweet Lord, I can barely see the house next door!' I thought frantically. Then: 'Oh, hold up. That's steam on the window from my shower.'
A sad day indeed.
I'm sure you're familiar with that noise of doom that results from erasing something when the eraser is almost gone, right? I had the pleasure of hearing that ear-bleeding symphony today. I don't think I could say that with enough sarcasm. And believe me, there's plenty to go around.
As I was being driven back home, I saw a billboard for Cub Foods. That'd be a grocery store, in case you didn't notice. It read:
A road to health and wellness through the cereal aisle.
What the dilly? The cereal --? Dude, when was the last time Cub employees peeped the cereal aisle?! If the box has a cartoon character depicted on it, chances are the ingredients include various forms of sugar and cardboard.
Additionally, the woman shown on the opposite end of the billboard was decked out in the typical pharmaceutical gear, with innumerable shelves filled with drug containers behind her.
This could just be me, but I'm having a hard time seeing the connection between cereal and a pharmacist.
In the end, the most logical conclusion I could come up with involved cereal with lethal parasites and chemicals (you know, injected into the cardboard. Cardboard is sneaky like that) and needing an antidote that may or may not cost all of your life savings.
Now that I think of it, this would explain the origin of the majority of Cub's profits.
Sadly enough, that's pretty much all that happened today, other than being on the phone and discovering some kinky endeavor that for some reason I thought was a joke.
But Friday, now there's one fucked up day for your collection. During lunch, Padhraig showed me this french fry that definitely deserves some sort of national holiday to commemorate it. I took one from him and took a picture of it, just because I knew no one would believe the spoken word.
