Do You Brits Feel About the Spice Girls as We Do About Celine Dion?
This question ended up in the amalgamation of one more peron to our group for the night. I have never seen a random person laugh as hard as he did when Lynne posed that question to Michelle and Simon. Good Times.
I'm blogging over 2 evenings right now. As such, things will be succinct. But there are pictures.
My first question: Pete, why do you not have comments allowed on your joke blog I wonder? Afraid we might trump you with better ones? I heard a couple tonight that you may want to hear (e.g. A sadomasochist beastial nechrophiliac walks into a clinic for help. The psychiatrist's response: "You're flogging a dead horse". Gold baby, gold.
Last night my Mom asked us what the word lugubrious meant. I had no fucking clue. Lynne, however, not only knew the meaning of the word, but demonstrated, Turbo Shandy and all:
Then Aimee got drunk and decided to drink spilt beer of my parent's picnic table:
it's a wonder I'm allowed home anymore.
We drove back this afternoon, after my mom (being the planning crafter that she is), mapped out Hessels' and my trip to Hamifax (where my expression is, as is always the case with Eva...Whafuck??):
We went out tonight with Simon to say goodbye before he leaves for UCL Turns out I may see him again though. I hope so. Although we still had a great time celebrating with Karaoke. Here's Lynne, with my favorite impression (of Sweaty Pet that is...)
Michelle was there for awhile, but had to go home due to a long, long week:
I really wish I knew what I was talking to her about at this point because it looks really, really interesting. We finally ended up karaokeing, much to Simon's appreciation. I sang Brian Wilson for him. A good Canadian song. Here are Lynne, Me and Simon in the pub, having a gay old time.
Good times.
Sorry for all the pictures and the lack of amusing commentary, but I'm feeling decidedly uncreative right now, and have adopted the age old motto "A Picture Speaks a Thousdand Words".
And if anyone is trying to email me, sorry: my email is down. I'll try and grab email on Tuesday (when I'm back from Ottawa),
Peace.
I'm blogging over 2 evenings right now. As such, things will be succinct. But there are pictures.
My first question: Pete, why do you not have comments allowed on your joke blog I wonder? Afraid we might trump you with better ones? I heard a couple tonight that you may want to hear (e.g. A sadomasochist beastial nechrophiliac walks into a clinic for help. The psychiatrist's response: "You're flogging a dead horse". Gold baby, gold.
Last night my Mom asked us what the word lugubrious meant. I had no fucking clue. Lynne, however, not only knew the meaning of the word, but demonstrated, Turbo Shandy and all:
Then Aimee got drunk and decided to drink spilt beer of my parent's picnic table:
it's a wonder I'm allowed home anymore.
We drove back this afternoon, after my mom (being the planning crafter that she is), mapped out Hessels' and my trip to Hamifax (where my expression is, as is always the case with Eva...Whafuck??):
We went out tonight with Simon to say goodbye before he leaves for UCL Turns out I may see him again though. I hope so. Although we still had a great time celebrating with Karaoke. Here's Lynne, with my favorite impression (of Sweaty Pet that is...)
Michelle was there for awhile, but had to go home due to a long, long week:
I really wish I knew what I was talking to her about at this point because it looks really, really interesting. We finally ended up karaokeing, much to Simon's appreciation. I sang Brian Wilson for him. A good Canadian song. Here are Lynne, Me and Simon in the pub, having a gay old time.
Good times.
Sorry for all the pictures and the lack of amusing commentary, but I'm feeling decidedly uncreative right now, and have adopted the age old motto "A Picture Speaks a Thousdand Words".
And if anyone is trying to email me, sorry: my email is down. I'll try and grab email on Tuesday (when I'm back from Ottawa),
Peace.
posted by Anderson at 12:15 AM
4 Comments:
Now how could you possibly trump those jokes...they are the BEST!! With that said, I have no idea why there is no comment section. The blog people are out to get me! Bastards.
Enjoy your flight and PLEASE tell the pilot not to mess about. Be good.
Damnit Anderson, I told you not to use that picture! It doesn't really convey how truly sweaty I was (which is when I said "this must be how Pete feels") and I look puffy as a pastry. Now the thong picture is going up, for sure.
Also, you need a blogging spell check, you drunk.
If you put the thong picture up I've got much better photo fodder to bribe you with Honey. I like how I'm burning you on blogger while I'm talking to you on my couch right now.
Pete, just for you I'll ask the pilot not to kill me. Hopefully, he'll listen.
We love the Spice Girls.
But Celine does truly suck.
And I don't know why I bother posting comments here that make you look uber-popular. You never post on mine.... :-(
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