catch-up

It's been a while, which means it's time to play catch-up. A lot of catch-up would be boring for everybody involved, but a round or two couldn't hurt.

Before I get to all the crappy stuff, I'll hit the highlight of the past week. Lori lost her first tooth. It wasn't even loose. She sassed back to me and I popped her one --whack and plop-- out fell her tooth. So I lie, bite me. Seriously, bite me the way I bit that Canadian spy who tried to blow up the University of Wyoming in February of '02. After chewing through his carotid artery, I disarmed his cold-fusion bomb with my prehensile tongue. That is no lie.

Yeah, her tooth was kinda loose and she yanked it out. I think she wanted to be like all her toothless schoolmates. Lori's ruthless tooth wrenching made me feel like quite the wuss. Sure I've killed Canadian spies without using my hands, but yanking teeth outta my head is a bit freaky.

And, before I leave Lori territory for other subject matters, I need clarification on the following conversation:

Sherry: "I've gotta pee really bad."
Lori: "Just suck in your bobo, Mommy."

Can women really do that? Just suck your bobo in? I mean, isn’t it "in" already? I'm confused.

…

So I spent a week studying my ass off for 8-hours a day, everyday. This would've blown total anal-pipette if it weren't for good ol' Brook, who checked in on me daily. Mostly, I studied and he consumed my cell phone minutes. After which he would mock me mercilessly for still owning a functioning Nokia 6185. I will now voice the question on everybody's mind: "And where, pray tell, is Brook's cell phone?" Oh, that's right, he doesn't have one.

So the plan was: study, Easter, study, study, study, Powerball ticket, Dude, Where's My Car?, Professional Engineer's Exam, cheap Scotch, Kill Bill, Vol.2, coffee, back to work. What actually happened was: study, Easter, study, study, study, Powerball ticket (not one piece of shit number matched), Rambo: First Blood Part II, Professional Engineer's Exam, Grey Goose vodka, drunken jumping on neighbor's teen queen trampoline (so called because my neighbor's teenage daughters jump on that thing all the freaking time), Kill Bill, Vol.2, gyros, back to work… and if one more goddamn coworker asks me how I did on the exam, I'm going to chew his fucking carotid artery off. Apparently, "I don't know" isn't an acceptable response. I wonder if "I don't fucking know and I won't fucking know until July, so piss the fuck off" would get the point across a little better.

"Ephedra" is the last word I'll speak on this subject until July. If I pass the exam it will be due to ephedra, at least in part. The afternoon session of the test started at 1:30 and I was crashing hard before the proctors let us crack open our exam books. Fortunately, I had planned for such an energy drop. I popped a bit of ephedra and BAM! I was awake and alert. The shit is like half a pot of coffee in one little pill. Thank god the NFL didn't sponsor the Professional Engineer's Exam. I'd fail the piss test for banned substances. Oh wait, the FDA has banned ephedra, too. Damn, that makes me a federal fugitive if anybody finds out, but that doesn't necessarily invalidate my test seeing as how the exam's charter doesn't explicitly prohibit ephedra.

It's good to be back.

...and so it was written, shenry at 4/19/2004 01:12:00 PM.
...and so it was appended with .