- Jul 24, 2010
- Reaction score
"One of my friends is a Wiccan Priestess at the New York Press."
Everyone please be quiet.
Everyone please be quiet.
I didn't see any request. Care to resend it? I'm this guy.William said:
Vlassic best pickles??Asteriktos said:I have a minor craving for some dill pickles. I used to have some but threw them out a few days ago. I should not have done so. I had bought them to put on hamburgers. I used some, but not others. I grew tired of the hamburger making process. Too much greasy yuckiness to clean left in the pan. I don't want my drains clogged. That would not be for the best. In the past I have found drain cleaners to be hit and miss. Better to be safe that to be backed up.
I sent my first crush to the hospital. I think I posted about that sometime here . . .ZealousZeal said:
Chatted with a few muckety mucks about some new initiative and its market feasibility, in other words we were acknowledging we lead soulless lives to suck the souls out of others.
I then walked back across campus wondering which ridiculous choice in my life had brought me to this meaningless point in my life. It came down to either when in kindergarten I turned a corner at recess and slammed forehead to forehead with Mary Mason. She was probably my first "crush". Literally and figuratively.
She had to get stitches. And her mother was the art teacher, which meant she was a house wife who wanted other things in life and ended up trying to get kids to draw OUTSIDE the lines.
I was never good at art, even though I supposed to be, because I am left handed.
Anyway. My mother forced me to write a get well and apology card to Mary. This was terrible. Not because of the writing. I was nearly at a fifth grade level of reading and writing by four. But she thought it would be "cute" if I drew something as well. So not only am I trying for the first time in my life to woo the woman of my dreams, which was sorta anxiety provoking, but I had to do something I was horrible at and knew I was horrible at. The performance anxiety was exquisite.
After the weekend went by and I worried myself sick about giving Mary my crayon on manila paper card, I went up to Mary during recess and gave the card to her. She was delighted and excited to show me her stitches, which I wanted to pull out. I had already been stitched up numerous times and found great delight in removing them myself.
But I didn't try and didn't really want to.
Well, unbeknownst to me more than a few of the other kids had circled us somewhat and began to chant that song to tease children who obviously have some tenderness for each other. What made things worse was that my first name rhymed with her last name:
Mary Mason and Jason sittin in a tree!
K I S S I N G
First comes love!
Then comes marriage!
Then comes the baby in the baby carriage!
Mary and I both were mortified.
The incredible performance anxiety to please the girl I loved, coupled with the delight that obviously she shared the same feelings for me, only to dissolve into shame and failure, plagued every romantic relationship I had with a woman for quite sometime.
In short, I shouldn't have mocked the older boys playing funnel ball by calling them a naughty word that means homosexual. I was running away from them hoping to find my friends so the score would be a little more even during the fight. That is why I ran into Mary coming around the corner of the school building.
The decision to call into question the sexuality of four other larger males while not having friends with you or a weapon is a bad decision.
That decision was the first of the possible two I considered which caused the ruination of my life.
But let's be honest, funnel ball is kinda gay.
I find your current avatar oddly reassuring.Asteriktos said:Sounds like sour grapes to me...
I use the indirect method, but yeah, I'm gonna grill it. From what I've read, it should turn out awesome. The presence of fire brings out the best in any meat really.William said: