okay. it's been told to me that i apparently say things that others are thinking. i don't know if i necessarily agree with that, but it is what the f*ck it is. i just felt like throwing that f-bomb in there. i don't usually do it, but here's a random story that i thought about when i wrote that...
about a month ago i was out with chong (former roommate now...had to put him out...) because we were just gonna go hang out and get something to eat. we had our sights set on this place called california roll. we'd been there once before. it was a strange place because they specialized in (surprise) sushi rolls. their menu was honestly at least fifteen pages, each of which had about twenty kinds of rolls. that's a hell of a lot of rolls. when we went that one time, i ended up just getting some custom rolls. not to say that their rolls were bad, but they were too many. anyway, that was to provide some sort of intro. so, we were going to go to this place, only to find that it went out of business. holy hell, what is wrong with restaurants today? one day they're there, the next day they're gone.
that's my minor point. the major point is that when we went to find another place, chong took us on an access road. we were about half a mile from the traffic light, which had been green for a bit. he decided to see if he could make it and slammed down on the gas pedal. there were plentiful cars at the traffic light...
***flashback***
in 2005, when i was living in japan, some friends and i took a trip to china. we went to shanghai, xi'an, and beijing, to name a few places. we climbed the great wall, we saw the forbidden temple (not so forbidden after all), we saw mao's body, we did it all. one morning, we were on the way to the airport to go somewhere and we (there were five of us) took two cabs. i sat in the front seat and two of the others were in the back. to make a long story short...our retarded taxi driver smashed the damn cab into another taxi that was stopped at a red light. there were, by the way, five lanes in the street, and the only other car was the one that we hit. it was ridiculous. the guy was going 120 km/hr, which was pretty quick considering that we were on a regular street. it caused a lot of trouble; we were lucky to walk away from that...well not exactly walk away...but we're alive and well now.
***end flashback***
chong, knowing damn well that i have this traumatic experience under my belt, went from twenty to fifty in two seconds and it scared a little bit of pee out of me. when he finally realized that he wasn't going to make the light, he slowed down. did i mention that there were other cars on the road? it was like china all over again. i dropped the f-bomb on him that day.
that was that. so...luby, trip, and i have been hanging out at this new school. they're on to me. i suspect that they know their codenames on this blawg, so i don't know how much longer i can keep this up. i may have to change them...but they fit so well. i'll just keep them after all. besides, luby is too preoccupied with the 1243124839 other things going on in her life, not to mention the nosebleeds that she gets on a constant basis from being thrust so far up into the sky with those skyscraper-height heels. the tip of her heel carries so much power behind it, i bet it could easily crack a brazil nut. she walks hard. and poor trip, bless his heart, is as big as grape ape, but (in keeping with stereotypes) isn't the sharpest pencil in the case. i don't think he'll ever figure it out, but we'll see. i am, after all, the wise sibling of us three. trip got the brawn (not all of it, just the majority share). luby got the unfortunate privilege of being the middle sibling, forced to step in when trip and i get into those random skirmishes and he has to go to the nearest hospital...
we went to on the border last week for happy hour. thanks to luby's foolishness, we got there way after happy hour, like two hours afterwards. i'm gonna be like ty pennington on extreme makeover: home edition. i'm gonna make her my special project. she's like my sister; she needs help. i've been introducing her and reintroducing her to someone who could be a good match for her (i can't say now...i've been warned to not do so...but since when have i been scared of anybody?) but she's very closed about the heart. being the empathetic person i am, i was obviously sent to her to help her, and help her i will. trip...i got his help as well...my left fist. he's not worth the right fist. i kid, i kid. he can have the right fist.
i digress.
one story and i'm off to bed. i am extremely exhausted from work and life in general. it's about that time that i take that one night to go to bed early to recharge for a while of staying up late. anyway, we all know that god doesn't like me. that's why i can't pray all the time. i know the prayers won't always be answered. i know that i'm not as highly favored these days because of the kids i got this year. they're not actually that bad, and certainly not as bad as the ones i had at my former school, but they're just a different kind of ignorant. buffoonery abounds at this school in the fourth grade.
so, last week i did a science experiment with them where we made butter. it's actually pretty easy. if you put heavy whipping cream in a jar and shake the sh*t out of it for long enough, it separates into fresh butter and buttermilk, which i used to make pancakes. well, one of the classes i had that day initiated what i must call "the great butter war of 2011." this one kid, "opportunity," had said something ignorant and i moved him to the back of the room for the time being. in the middle of the experiment, we all heard this strange sound. i looked over and it was good ol' opportunity, kicking the desk. i went back to talk to him. most people don't know this, but i'm really very good at talking to kids on their level. it's just more interesting to talk crazy to them.
so, i'm soothing this kid to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat, and i hear this strange sound. it was about three seconds after i started talking with opportunity, and we both turned around. in those scant three seconds...there were five or six idiots running around the room like a gang of monkeys...with butter all over them. mike, if you remember from an earlier post, was all up in that group. he had butter all over his face. it was on his cheeks like that black sh*t soldiers put on their face to scare others. treasure (also from another post) had butter on his nose. somebody had butter in his head, one had it in his clothes, it was on backpacks, it was on the floor. it was unbelievable. had i not been there, i would have thought this was all just a dream.
but a dream it was not. opportunity got a reprieve that day because i had to go into my office and draft up a treaty to end the war. i don't raise my voice much this year; i just say things to children to make them think about their actions. after the war was over and the casualties counted (two got buttered beyond repair), mike openly expressed his dislike of me in the cafeteria: "i can't stand him."
that's what i heard as i was leaving the cafeteria that day. who cares? it's not in my nature to cater to the whims of children. everybody knows that. and that was the tale of the great butter war of 2011. yeah, we won't be doing any more science experiments in that class for quite a while. on the bright side, though, making butter has become a hobby for me. so far, i've got two jars of unsalted sweet cream butter, two jars of salted sweet cream butter, a jar of honey butter, a jar of garlic herb butter, and a jar of cinnamon sugar butter. it's good.
the butter will live on, but i must sleep right now,
-w
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