Monday, June 26, 2006
weekend
Friday - Went to Lawrenceburg to see my family. My brother, sister-in-law, and the nephews were in. Grilled out hamburgers and debated the finer points of Napoleon Dynamite. After that I accepted an invitation to hang out with some of the ministry staff from St. Awesome's. The Colonel was there too. It was the second best time I've ever had with a bunch of ministers. The best time I ever had was at a witch burning. Stupid witches.
Saturday - Slept in instead of going to Sara's to hang blinds. Luckily, she's the forgiving sort. Volunteered at St. Awesome's as video director. Got home around 7:00 with a take-out order of chicken catsu don. Finally beat God of War. Hung out with Sara and discussed her upcoming trip to Haiti. I'm gonna see if she'll bring me back a machete and some cocaine.
Sunday - Volunteered at St. Awesome's again. Went to lunch with Sara and Kup, then played in a wiffle ball tournament. Lost, but had fun. And really, that's all that matters, blah blah blah, loser talk, blah blah blah. After the game I decided to grill out hamburgers using a recipe from Men's Health that involved mixing oatmeal, spinach, onions, cheese, and an egg in with the hamburger meat. Why do I do everything magazines tell me to do? You would have thought that I would have learned my lesson after Reader's Digest told me to walk around telling really boring anecdotes about cats getting lost on vacation and travelling across the country back to their homes.
file under: weekend
So the burgers were bad?
Also, after reading American Virgin, you're still gonna let Sara go to Haiti?
1. The burgers actually weren't that bad. They were really filling (the oatmeal, I guess) but the additives didn't really help the taste any. I guess they were just there for nutritonal value. And I generally hate to do anything for nutritional value.
2. While I am an American, I'm not a virgin, so I think that takes an important part out of that equation.
I'll consult corporate and get back to you.
Just for the record Patrick doesn't LET me do anything. He doesn't have a choice . I do what I want. I'm a rebel!
Bret, I think you just don't want me to go bc YOU will be worried about me. Am I right? I will miss you too.
Boo.
Shhhhhhhhhh! You'll blow our cover.
Boo again.
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Saturday - Slept in instead of going to Sara's to hang blinds. Luckily, she's the forgiving sort. Volunteered at St. Awesome's as video director. Got home around 7:00 with a take-out order of chicken catsu don. Finally beat God of War. Hung out with Sara and discussed her upcoming trip to Haiti. I'm gonna see if she'll bring me back a machete and some cocaine.
Sunday - Volunteered at St. Awesome's again. Went to lunch with Sara and Kup, then played in a wiffle ball tournament. Lost, but had fun. And really, that's all that matters, blah blah blah, loser talk, blah blah blah. After the game I decided to grill out hamburgers using a recipe from Men's Health that involved mixing oatmeal, spinach, onions, cheese, and an egg in with the hamburger meat. Why do I do everything magazines tell me to do? You would have thought that I would have learned my lesson after Reader's Digest told me to walk around telling really boring anecdotes about cats getting lost on vacation and travelling across the country back to their homes.
file under: weekend
So the burgers were bad?
Also, after reading American Virgin, you're still gonna let Sara go to Haiti?
1. The burgers actually weren't that bad. They were really filling (the oatmeal, I guess) but the additives didn't really help the taste any. I guess they were just there for nutritonal value. And I generally hate to do anything for nutritional value.
2. While I am an American, I'm not a virgin, so I think that takes an important part out of that equation.
I'll consult corporate and get back to you.
Just for the record Patrick doesn't LET me do anything. He doesn't have a choice . I do what I want. I'm a rebel!
Bret, I think you just don't want me to go bc YOU will be worried about me. Am I right? I will miss you too.
Boo.
Shhhhhhhhhh! You'll blow our cover.
Boo again.
Post a Comment
