On Life and Love
Whatever is making or breaking my day.
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Two other embarrassments
So last weekend, I mentioned that I’d embarrassed WO two times at his birthday celebration. Each of these are worth a little explanation, particularly now that he’s stopped blushing. The first was minor. I just wrapped all his gifts in Disney Princesses wrapping paper. Very pink, very girly. But WO likes girls, and what’s better than a book wrapped in a grinning Jasmine from Aladdin? The second… ah, the second was the kicker. One of his birthday gifts was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman: The Kindly Ones, the ninth in a series of graphic novels involving Dream/the Sandman. (Fun series of books; I’d recommend them, despite the cost.) The second portion of…
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Corollary
I discovered the identity of the gas-passer mentioned in my last post. Turns out he’s the guy I randomly picked to email this quarter whenever I missed class and needed to get the homework. There’s about a 1 in 25 chance of that, and I just got so lucky. Honestly, guy. It’s rude enough to fart in public, and it’s worse when your farts actually stink. *gagging sounds* Hey, maybe I should email him. “Dear Mr. Hobo… Stop being a nasty fucker!”
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Two things not to do.
Don’t yank on your balls during a formal presentation. That’s just nasty. Don’t fart in class. Every day. In multiple 10-second-long bursts. There are no words to express how fucking disgusting that is.
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Magic in my hands.
“Do you feel the magic in my hands when I touch and rub you the right way…?” Johnny Gill, “Rub You the Right Way”. I know it’s a good day when I: Have just so little sleep that everything is funny. I mean everything. Spend five solid minutes in lab laughing at my partner’s reaction to Oranges and Lemons’ “Soramimi Cake”. I almost pissed my pants. (Hey, then we could have collected it and analyzed un-moldy urine!) Give a loud-ass whoop of joy in the middle of the hallway when my lab partner and I were told we could just throw away the plastic bottles (formerly containing urine) that we’d…
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Happy birthday, WO!
Happy birthday to him, Happy birthday to him, Happy birthday dear Greg-g-y-poo! Happy birthday to him! (This is embarrassment #3. When I no longer fear for my life, I shall write about embarrassments #1 and #2.)