[url=http://www.gotoquiz.com/which_nut_case_are_you]Which nut(case) are you?[/url]

Okay, so Googlism is, along with BabelFish, my new favorite thing ever. The snarky comments in italics are mine.
Birgitta is allowed to leave the prison. Really?
Birgitta is 34 years old and works at a groccer selling meat. So much for college.
Birgitta is for now living at her island of extremes ...with meat and prison buddies?
Birgitta is charged with magic and sparks. Ow...

Laura is a single mexican woman from hermosillo. And she hides it so well.
Laura is right. No surprise.
Laura is keen on sending messages in odd ways. Um?
Laura is melting. Like an ice cap!
Laura is a lesbian and fucks chickens. Well, there's one I hadn't heard.
Laura is big on the philosophy that people must take full responsibility for the messes they put themselves in. Especially if they involve chickens.
Laura is a mysterious young girl that seems to have a connection to your late wife. ...wow.

Sarah is slated to host Saturday Night Live for the third time on october 12. That's why she makes the big bucks.
Sarah is a revelation. I can see it on the billboards: "Sarah, the Red-Haired Revelation!"
sarah is one of four young peregrines bred in captivity and released on the Kitchener city hall. They released her?!
Sarah is autographed and up for bids on ebay. Autographed?
Sarah is making herself ill by pretending to love her husband. Well, too bad she can't go to Jessica for counseling. (See below)

Jessica is not a substitute for counseling. Tell me about it.
Jessica is decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation. Aw.
Jessica is mesmerized by the virtual playground filled with stars from fantasy land movies and all the people at Big Burger. That explains a lot.
Jessica is to be taken to a secure hospital where prisoners sleep in locked metal cages. In that case, she also owes me ten bucks.
Jessica is right about stalkers. Why am I not surprised?
Jessica is just as picky with her men as she is with grammar. Oh my, it speaks the truth!

Tashi isn't smiling because the carpet was out of control. Oh, that silly carpet!
Tashi is planning to spread the dharma. You spread that dharma!
Tashi is now troubled by erotic dreams and constantly distracted when in the company of young women. Just now, eh? ;-)
Tashi is a scary story. No, no, that's Pugdon.
Tashi is a brilliant young buddhist monk who is just completing three years of solitary meditation in a remote hermitage. That explains the dharma.
Tashi is the one in the dog suit. Yep, that's her.

Things which have been bugging me

1. The fact that roughly 2/3 of writer's club seems to not actually want to do anything involving writing. Oh, and the fact that the moderator of the website has never actually been online - we really don't need her, but that in combination with her being part of he 2/3 flogging off rather than actually DOING anything is really pissing me off.

2. The fact that, thanks to Mr. Corr and assorted AP tests, this month has been really crappy. No, I don't have Corr, and no, I wasn't taking AP tests; most of my friends, however, do and/or were. Of course, because I decided I wasn't partial to having a B or C on my transcript and therefore didn't take honors science, and because the scheduling people somehow read "AP Art History" as "Legal Studies," I'm the PERFECT person to snipe at and take out extra agression on. (Tashi is exempt - she wasn't bitchy, unlike some I could mention.)

3. The fact that St. Al's doesn't have air conditioning in their choir loft. Seriously, they've got all this MARBLE and crap everywhere, and all this stained glass (which you KNOW wasn't cheap), but can't spare the cash for some form of cooling system for the actual people who are supposedly worshipping their God? Yeah, sure, we get it: you dig heaven, Jesus and guilt. But there are people, too, and they deserve some thought too.

4. In that vein, actually: I don't understand how these Roman Catholics can actually fit God in their cathedrals, with all the ornamentation. I mean, from what I gather, worship is supposed to be about a spiritual connection with the invisible and all-powerful deity(s) to whom you give your time (and, often, money). It's NOT supposed to be about all this gaudy decoration! I gain much, much more respect for the Protestants every time I go into a cathedral. And, yes, I understand that it's supposedly there to "glorify god," but honestly - you're supposed to glorify god with your mind, body and spirit, and there's NOTHING in the Bible about gargantuan marble pillars or "eternal flames" or baptismal fonts that look like they came from a Hallmark store. That's a physical manifestation of human greed. That's not God. And aren't these the same people who condemned a man for saying that we on Earth were *shock* NOT the center of the Universe? The same ones who get pissed off about homosexuality, and somehow turn a blind eye when their own "celibate" priests fuck little boys? And the ones who won't allow women to be in positions of power in the Church? The ones who go around saying the Protestants burned down cathedrals because they were too lavishly decorated, while the people worshipping in the cathedrals were burning HUMANS for disagreeing with the Pope? Seriously. If these are the people Heaven's full of, Hell sounds like a good option.

5. The fact that I have no idea who the fuck I am right now. Yeah, yeah, it's because I'm a teenager - so what? That doesn't make it better.

6. The fact that no matter what I do, someone ALWAYS upstages me; my enemies started that job, and my friends finish it. I know I shouldn't compare myself to other people because it's not that great for the ego, but at this point, I truly don't have any ego LEFT. I just want one thing - one fucking thing that I'm better than all my friends at, but that seems to be too much to ask. The worst part is that I can't even hate my friends for being better than I am at things, because they're my friends. As it is, I can just be happy for them and ignore the fact that most of them have more talent in their little finger than I have in my entire body. Sure, they say nice things about me, nice things to me...it must be so nice to be able to spare a bit of niceness for someone who bends over backwards for you every single day, who's there for you when you need her (no matter how foul you've been to her, or how much SHE might need YOU). I just wish it didn't sound so condescending.

7. The fact that I'm so jealous - though that stems from my realization that my friends' talents and intellects guarantee them much, much more suitable friends than myself. At the beginning of this year, for instance, I took up several activities with my friends: National Honor Society, bridge club and chess club. NHS? As if. I dropped it - I can't stand the atmosphere and the competition. Bridge club? Maureen tried to teach me, and I still for the life of me can't understand what the point of a bid or a no-trump is. Chess club? Jessica taught me how to play the game, and I know the basics, but I provide her no intellectual challenge whatsoever, and that alone was enough to prompt me to leave and not come back - well, that and the not-so-subtle hints that maybe I just wasn't serious or focused enough to spend my lunch period with the people in attendance. I notice they didn't give the same hints to the group of boys who sit around and debate and throw pretentious verbiage around. I guess they're just more intellectual, more focused on learning in their talking and bragging than I am in my actual thinking.

8. The fact that I didn't get the school board postition. That in itself doesn't actually bother me (since it means I might actually have time for homework next year) as much as the fact that I lost it to people whose "main problems" were things like "Oh, I couldn't manage my time" and "Oh, I got these awful panic attacks from stress..." Yeah. Those are REALLY the people you want to work with - the ones who've basically said point-blank that they're too busy to do the job. Does anyone else see the hypocrisy here, or is it just my lazy, realist self?

9. The fact that I am pretty much the ONLY one of my friends who, when she is asked what she wants to do at college, is met almost invariably with something to the effect of either "I hope you're going to marry rich" or "You'd better start filling out the welfare papers now, then." I've been in the situation a million times:
Person: So, what are all of you going to do after high school?
Jessica: I'm thinking something with engineering or science.
Sarah: I'm hoping to go to medical school.
Person: Oh, how nice for your families! You'll do so well. *noticing Birgitta* And what about you?
Birgitta: Something to do with English or history, actually.
Person: Oh. Are you good at waiting tables?
They think they're so fucking clever, and I hate it. A little respect over here at table five, maybe? But no, no - it's all about the money to these people, it seems, and quite frankly, I would rather share a studio apartment with three other people and be doing something I love than live the American dream and be under the constant stress and pressure of a high-flying position.

10. The fact that my inexperience and general lack of talent at things like choir get me pushed aside, into back corners (both literally and figuratively) where I am neither seen nor heard. Come on: even the stuffy Victorians let their children be ONE of the two.

Sorry, that was long and rant-ish. I'll be extremely surprised if anyone actually bothers reading it, since it's not my usual offering of amusing quotations. I guess I can't always be funny. Sorry.

"London calling to the imitation zone
Forget it, brother, an' go it alone
London calling upon the zombies of death
Quit holding out-and draw another breath
London calling-and I don't wanna shout
But when we were talking-I saw you nodding out
London calling, see we ain't got no highs
Except for that one with the yellowy eyes"
~The Clash, "London Calling"

In bridge club, after a long discussion of Joey Halstead and how he isn't Joseph and therefore not the surrogate father of Jesus:
Monica (in a lull): Joseph did NOT give birth to God!

Monica: Whoa, look at this carrot! *holds up demented-looking carrot*
Tashi: *reaches over to touch carrot*
Monica: Don't tweak my carrot!
Tashi (in desperation): Let me tweak it!!!

Zach: What do I owe you favors for?
Birgitta: Well, for one, finding out if what you did with ****** was a date, and --
Zach (To Tashi/Monica): You didn't hear that. *grabs Birgitta, pulls her into the hall*
Monica: Does he like her? (In reference to ******, not me)
Tashi: Does she like him?
*pause*
Tashi: Oh my god.
Monica: That was the girliest conversation we've ever had!

Monica: If your cheese was gay men, I'd want it.

Tashi: Did you just call my grandmother a crack whore?
Birgitta: ...yes.

Monica (wanting a cookie): I loooove you, Birgitta! I love you! I'll give you my nugget!
(It should be noted that she meant a Hershey's Nugget)

Monica: So, in church, the reading was about a prostitute.
Maureen: Oh, goooood.

Birgitta: Who's Annie?
Monica: She's the best friend of the girl.
Birgitta: Oh, THAT clears up EVERYTHING.

Birgitta: Oh, come on, people! I don't love myself in that way!
Tashi: I love you! I love you, Tashi! You're so amazing! I couldn't live without you! *pause* Actually, I literally couldn't live without myself.

On MSN Messenger:

Birgitta: Just say, "Dad, I'm in a gang. We go and paint Nazi slogans on Jews' cars." Then he'll be all freaked, and you just go, "Dad, I was lying. I'm gay." See?
Tashi: Haha, it all revolves around perspective
Birgitta: Hmm. Apparently, so do my boobs
Tashi: I'm sure the fact that four generations ago, my family consisted of a bunch of german jews, won't matter a bit
Birgitta: Oh, no
Tashi: Well, THAT was a segue.
Birgitta: I took a test, and apparently they're va-va-voom...Which makes me think of the zoom-zoom commercial, which...yeah. Doesn't end well.
Tashi: I have the strangest urge to tordol [Truth or Dare Online] right now.
Birgitta: Oh god. My zoom-zoom boobs make you want to tordol? You have NO idea how hard I'm laughing right now.
Tashi: Well...talking about your boobs does

My goodness...I am never going on vacation with just my family again.
Seriously.
First, we arrive at this motel in South Tacoma (bad sign number one). Then, the place is...pretty much the set of a Stephen King story, and smells like smoke and has people literally LIVING THERE. So we find another hotel and stay there for the night.
The next day, as we're watching TV in a NICE hotel, and find out that right after we left, the hotel we stayed at had a shooting.
Nice, eh?

However, thanks to my dad's bad hearing and my mom's...momness...I have good quotes.

Gitta: Where do we get our food?
Dad (apparently thinking I asked where we went AFTER we got our food): We go back to the admissions office.
Mom and Gitta: ...what the hell? *start laughing*
Dad: What?
Gitta: You answered someone else's question, that's what.
Dad: Oh...

Mom: What are you thinking of for dinner?
Dad: I'm thinking about a nice, refreshing, relaxing fruit salad.
Mom: Relaxing?

(At the aforementioned really nasty motel)
Mom: I somehow doubt that they have a complimentary contintental breakfast.
Gitta: Even if they DID, I don't think I'd eat it. They probably cook on a rusty stove, with blood all over the kitchen from the most recent serial killing.
Mom: I should never have introduced you to Stephen King.
Gitta: Well, seriously, look around! There isn't a single car in this parking lot other than ours that doesn't have spray paint on it!
Mom: ...okay, you're actually right about that one.
Dad (having checked in): Okay, are you ready?
Gitta: Dad, mom and I have a new rule. We check your motel choices BEFORE the trip.
Dad: Yeah, sorry. Let's look at the room.
(The room reeks of smoke. I go into the bathroom.)
Gitta: The shower curtain looks like it could stage a revolution, and NOT in the good way.
Mom: I can't breathe right. Do they CLEAN this place?
Dad: Let's find a new hotel...
Mom and Gitta: *bolt out door*
Dad: I'll take that as a yes.

(At the REALLY nice Edgewater Hotel on the waterfront on Alaska Way in Seattle)
Gitta (opening the door to find a clean room with a gas fireplace, flat-screen TV and AMAZING bathroom): Yeah, this is a step above the Blue Spruce.
(The Blue Spruce was the really nasty motel)
Dad: Hey, let's come up with a new name for that place.
Gitta: The Get-Me-Outta-Here Hotel
Dad: Hell Motel
Gitta: The Blue Moose
Dad: ...what?
Gitta: No...I have it.
Dad and Mom: What?
Gitta: The Screw Loose Motel
ALL: YES.

(Watching House on TV, House said something about a turkey baster impregnating someone)
Gitta (from bathroom): OH MY GOD! House totally stole Tashi's and my turkey baster impregnation!!! *explodes into giggles*
Mom and Dad: Um...is there something you didn't tell us?
Gitta: What? Did I say something? *continues giggling*

(By the Space Needle, in a parking space waiting for my mom to come out from her shopping)
Homeless guy: *knocks on window*
Dad: *rolls down window*
Homeless Guy (hereafter known as HG): Hey mister, this is my space. It costs three and a quarter to park here, or five bucks in the lot.
Dad: Um...I'll go around the block. *rolls up window*
HG: *knocks again*
Dad: *rolls down window* What?
HG: *starts swearing a LOT*
Dad: *drives off* I'm sorry about this, Gitta. *turns back towards guy*
Gitta: Dad, I don't want to pay your bail. I'm broke.
Dad: Okay, I'm going to park here and wait for your mom. YOU stay in the car. (muttering) If that creep comes within ten feet of me, I'll beat the shit out of him.
Gitta: Dad, I STILL don't want to pay your bail. Plus, I have this window breaker. If tapping it in the middle of a window shatters the window, imagine what it could do to that guy's forehead.
Dad: Okay, good point.

Then there were the random signs, like the "Crosswalk Closed" sign in the middle of this HUGE rubble-heap. Um, DUH.
They also have these signs telling people to pay attention in shopping districts. Basically, there are two people (like the ones on the "Crosswalk" signs) and they're flying off to each side, with packages raining over them and a car leaving. I ALMOST stole one, but decided not to...


"He held up his riches
To challenge the hungry
Purposeful motion
For one so insane
They tried to fight him
Just couldn't beat him
This manic depressive
Who walks in the rain"
~Rush, "Cinderella Man"

1. Do you believe God and Science can co-exist? Why or why not?
Well, since I don't strictly believe in God, I'll answer this question on a more global level. I think that the idea of God and the idea of science can combine, but are fundamentally different. There are people who say that God created science, which is a handy answer to the question, albeit one I don't actually believe in. In short, if one believes in God, and one believes in science, there shouldn't be an issue.

2. If you had to have sex with any pokemon, which one would it be? (this is even more appropriate after today's conversation..)
Umm...I've never even done pokemon stuff, let alone the pokemon themselves. So...whichever one looked friendly?

3. What misconception from your childhood do you wish was true?
The misconception that if you wanted something badly enough, you could get it. Seriously.

4. If you could only use one facial expression (provided your face would be blank until you decided to use this expression) which would it be?
I would have to say a smile, because I laugh too much for a snarl to fit well.

5. What fictional world do you wish was real?
The Old Kingdom in the Garth Nix books.

Monica, I'm working on your questions...

At writer's club:

Tashi: So, on my WASL, I wrote about my teddy bear.
Birgitta, Amanda, Owen: ...
Tashi: I talked about how I latched onto it at a young age for tactile pleasure, when it was my first Christmas present, and how I haven't ever...UNlatched. I talk to him every night before I go to sleep.
Birgitta: You COULD just call me.
Owen: Aww, you're her teddy bear!
Tashi: I don't know, do you sleep in the crook of my arm every night?
*Ms. Wilson walks in*
Birgitta: Of course...wait, do I give you tactile pleasure?
Ms. Wilson: *really weird look*
Amanda, Owen, Tashi, Birgitta, Sarah, Monica: *burst out into raucous laughter*

Tashi: Yeah, on my WASL, I went on a rant about lettuce.

Birgitta: Tashi, I totally mention you.
Tashi: Really?
Birgitta: Yeah, I talk about that picture where you're yelling at the fondue, and how it would make me laugh and help me get over the loss of my house.
Monica: I cite you, actually.
Tashi: Me too!
(So yeah, the WASL graders will hopefully not realize this. As if they actually READ the essays.)

At the concerts:

Birgitta: Wow, the French word "ananas" totally fits into Hava Nagila.
Birgitta and Sarah: Hava na ananas, hava na...wait, are we singing about holy PINEAPPLES?
Birgitta: Yep.

Jesse: The Red Sea is up here, nestled in the crook of Africa and Asia.
*points with laser pointer nonchalantly, ends up indicating a point slightly off the Ivory Coast in the Atlantic Ocean*

Birgitta: *reaches into shirt and produces lip balm, which she hides in her bra sometimes*
Sarah: *looks at Birgitta with a slightly disturbed, but not surprised, expression*
Birgitta: Hey, I have like three things down my shirt. If my bra was ripped off in a fit of passion...there'd be all this random clunking as stuff fell to the floor.
Sarah: WOW...*bursts out laughing*

As Zingamarimba was playing, Sarah and I started dancing...until Kristina informed us that we looked like we were doing the Charlie Brown dancing. Then we danced harder...and at one point, had to prevent Becca from falling over and knocking over a bunch of music stands backstage.

Wow, there was a LOT more than that, but I can't remember them.
(End entry that probably only amuses me)

"The wind in the wire made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'"

1. If you were a dominatrix, what would your name and specialty be?
According to a certain quiz, my name is Lady Gabriella, Mistress of the Chainsaw. But I beg to differ, so I'll say...Veronika of the Racks (yeah, double-entendre there). And my specialty would have to be something to do with oxygen deprivation...saving the more bloody things for men, seeing as I don't feel any attraction to them and can therefore be pretty much as cruel as I want. ;-)

2. You must listen to only one song for an entire week. What is it?
That would have to be 2112, by Rush, because it's really long and awesome. If you don't know it...FIND IT. It rocks my socks off at nine yards. My second choice would be the Kilburn High Road, by Flogging Molly.

3. If you could meet one writer, living or dead, who would it be?
In the dead category, I'd really like to meet Douglas Adams. We'd get along.
In the living category, I'll go with Stephen King, if partially because my mother would pay me a LOT of money for his autograph. Though I'd like to tell him that Salem's Lot and The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon amaze me, and possibly ask him if he feels that making movies of his books lessens the public's interest in the actual reading of the books.

4. You have just taken over the world. How did you do it?
In all probability, I used a lot of very tricky propaganda and a few strategic death threats. And dropped an inordinate amount of airborne uppers on major world cities, so that the people I'm taking over would be either too stoned to notice or just too stoned to care.
If that failed, I'd just use my mad dominatrix skills to seduce a few world leaders.

5. I say "sex". What is the first thing that pops into your mind?
Well, that was inopportune timing...because I just asked someone about papaya. So apparently papaya comes to mind, though usually it would be the current object(s) of my unrequited affection. Or Freud. 8-)>


"I want to be your Lady Godiva
I want to be your shining pearl"

P.S. ...hi?

So, Tashi and I are working on writing a musical comprised entirely of parodies. It won't be sung-through, though (or at least I hope not), so we'll have to think of some lines as well...but basically we're just doing parodies for our friends and somehow putting them together. Hey, at the very least, we've got something to work on at writer's club. At most...we're the next fucking Rogers and Hammerstein. With a Weird Al twist. And female. And high schoolers. And...you get the drift.
(The diaphragm is like a bowl...)

We were online last night, discussing the fact that I had a really awkward date. The following conversation occurred:
Birgitta: You know, I haven't truly found a guy attractive in a REALLY long time.
Tashi: What about Zach and David?
Birgitta: Well, I see them as aesthetically pleasing. Like paintings. But I don't want to fuck paintings.

Ahem. In other news.
What with Jessica and Jon's breakup, I've been on the phone with BOTH of them a lot...Jon, being naive and inexperienced, did something relatively stupid in an effort to make the world a better place, and it (rightfully) offended Jessica. We were all really mad at Jon, but then he called me and I got the other half of the story (And was compared to the wise philosopher who lives in the woods and saves Jon from the wolves and sheep which are chasing him, nipping his heels)...which means I can't be as mad at him; I can just pity him and try to get both of them over it. Which is unfortunate, but whatever. It's still an amusing event to parody.

Also, I had an uberawkward date yesterday with a guy I thought I liked. But...he's even more into PDA that I am, which is saying something. Oh, and the part where he HAS A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND doesn't exactly help matters in the least.
And the only thing I could think when he was...um...PDA-ing me in the theatre, was, "I wish this was 'Jen'"
Only I used her real name in my head, obviously.

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
*screams in sheer frustration*

"You should never be afraid
You're protected from trouble and pain
Why, why is this a crisis in your eyes again?"

I love redundant, useless MySpace bulletins. I mock them. This one made me giggle particularly hard...here are some excerpts.

2. What would you do with 1,000 plastic spoons?
Please. I'd build a plastic spoon of mass destruction. DUH.

17. What is your favorite smell?
A certain girl's hair.

18. What is your favorite sight?
Speaking of a certain girl...
Also, I'm a great fan of a certain river outside of Whitefish, Montana. And of Covent Gardens, London.

19. Do you consider yourself bi-polar?
Yes! No! Yes! No!

21. Have you ever done anything vindictive to your coworkers?
If my fellow students count, yes.

24. Have you ever toilet-papered someone's house?
Well, it was a cabin at Christian camp...because, of course, it's very Christian to plaster someone's cabin with toilet paper, thus wasting it on a pointless task. Then again...this IS the religion that started the Crusades and thinks we should add to overpopulation by making abortion illegal. Oh, and the same religion that thinks gay marriage is unholy, but allows their priests to FUCK LITTLE BOYS.

27. Have you ever had a crush on your sister's friend?
Of course I've had crushes on my nonexistent sister's nonexistent friends. Oh, haven't you? Come on, their invisibility is so sexy! I could spend all night in their lack of arms!

28. Have you ever been to a nude beach?
No. Well...it wasn't nude when I was there, anyway...

29. Have you ever had sex on the beach?
No. It wasn't a nude beach, remember?

41. Have you ever gotten so wasted you couldn't remember the night before?
No, I was SOBER, remember? Sheesh, quiz, you have Alzheimer's.

43. Have you ever slept with one of your coworkers?
If by coworkers you mean peers, the answer is no. However, those invisible, nonexistent people have had their way with me far more than once...

44. Kissed more than one person at a time?
That sounds REALLY awkward.

45. Pot?
Crack?



"I am the eagle, I live in high country
In rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky
I am the hawk, and there's blood on my feathers
But time is still turning, it soon will be dry"

This parody, sung to the tune of "La Vie Boheme," was written by myself and also by Tashi, in honor of Tashi's brain, which was recently killed by an I-Search paper.

Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes
Here it lies, we all knew its worth
The cerebellum of Tashi's mirth
On these nights when we celebrate our girth (!)
In that little town of Spokane, WA
We raise our ass - I mean, our glass to
Our Tashi's brain
Remember all the joking
Writing Pugdon
Making humor out of nothing
The need to cry out
"It's not a package!"
To fully ignoring the grain
Discussing cocaine and gay men
To awkward questions, chat sessions
And strangely gained obsessions
To hating this depression
Hating repression, hating discretion
Not to mention, of course
Hating elephants and Bush
To writing on walls
And also on "other things"
To flings!
To living like kings!
To strings! To no wedding rings!
To robbing banks with cheese!
To being a jellyfish - instead of a fool!
Pschirrer: Ahem
Tashi: Hey teacher! I'm your preacher!

Random waiter: So that's five cloogies lost, four Ginsberg praises, three bus driver sweatshirts, two near-perfect friendships and one glow watch with spiffy lights!

Monica (five minutes late): ...what?
Birgitta: It's Tantric sex.
Tashi: If you close your eyes.

Random waiter: ...and thirteen women in tights, is that it here?
Everyone: MORE GAY RIGHTS!

Tashi and Monica: To radio shows
Made while we were still at Sac
To walk-offs, to TyraTo bringing sexy back
To fanfics, to apples
To lesbians and crack
To Stockholm, to Syndrome to literary hacks

Jessica and Birgitta:
Computers, to looters, to really inept suitors
Recruiters and tutors

David:
Don't forget commuters!

Jessica and Birgitta:
Allusions, delusions and very creepy dreams!

Birgitta: To coffee
Tashi: To Kafka
HBM cast: You know you want whipped cream!

Birgitta and Sarah: Lemons, tango, cabbages and twins!
Birgitta: Susan White!
Sarah: And our Phillipe!

Jessica: To Betty J!
Chorus girls: To borders! To quarters! Augmented seconds too...

David and Monica: Why Laura and Gitta should detest each other but somehow are best friends!

Pschirrer: PREACHER?!
Tashi: I'm close.

Monica and Birgitta: SINNERS!

Chorus girls, HBM cast and Laura:
Swedish music, MinoTOWERS, online PE blows
At any rate, we're digging 3/8, mate
(Yes, we're scary)
Bubble gum, vector sums, bongo drums
Kentucky derby, fucking Furbies, topsy turvy
We all know we’re nerdy!

To jubilee, to potpourri, to Christmas trees
Herbal tea!
Rocky Horror! The Happy Bus! AMPUTEES!
To acclaim, never bothering with shame

TO TATIANA!

To sodomy (it isn’t anime!)
TO S&M!!!


Monica: In honor of the death of Tashi’s brain, an impromptu multimedia event will commence directly after this rehearsal. David Beaumier, just back from the opening night of Grease, will demonstrate the proper way to hand jive while accompanying himself by imitating a vacuum cleaner which is on “high” underwater.

Tashi: And the Monica, Birgitta and I will preview our new radio show about and army of foul-mouthed Furbies.

Birgitta: And Jessica Nichols, clad entirely in leather, will perform her infamous impression of a loose-moral waitress to the sound of a raucous Newfoundland folk song. And Sarah will attempt to invent a device to prevent falling lemons from giving her concussions...that DOESN’T remind us of Pugdon’s final cloogey.

Jessica: Birgitta will then attempt to scarf dance with me without bursting into fits of giggles, under threat of...well, me with a sword, I guess.
(Suddenly) Do you enjoy knives?

Sarah (looking mildly disturbed): And finally, Tashi will recount her experiences as a bartender and part-time pyrotechnician, including the tale of how she allegedly caused permanent damage to a District-81 approved microwave device using nothing but a box of Juicy Juice grape juice, forever immortalizing the phrase:

All: Sparky the juice box flew out of the microwave, and HE WAS MAD!!!

So, I've recently noticed that my friends and I have really, really odd dinnertime conversations. I offer these excerpts in evidence:

Monica
Dylan: The best superpower would be to freeze time.
Monica: Time is an illusion. It's not tangible, you can't freeze it.
Dylan: I know that...but superpowers aren't reality. You could do anything you wanted to.
Monica: I still say teleportation beats everything.
Dylan: If you could freeze time, you could teleport.
Monica: No, if you teleport, you go from here to there like that (snaps), when you freeze time, you'd have to freeze time, run all the way over there, and unfreeze time. Or you could walk, it wouldn't really matter.
Monica's mom: You'd end up being way older than everyone.
Dylan: oh yeah....all the times you froze time would add up..
Monica:That would suck...you'd be the only one in elementary school with a beard!
...
Monica: Teleportation is good for other reasons, too. For instance, I wouldn't, but if you wanted to kill someone, you could just teleport inside of them and they'd explode.
(pause)
Monica's mom: That is REALLY WIERD, Monica.
Dylan: Yeah...that's disturbing.

Monica: X-ray vision would suck, cause you'd walk into walls and stuff cause you couldn't see them
Dylan: Superman can choose what he sees through, besides, you'd still be able to see the outline of things...it'd just be clear. If it was your way, it'd be just like being blind.
Monica: Maybe blind people just have x-ray vision!
Dylan: All they see is deep into outer space.
Monica: If you had x-ray vision, would you be able to choose what you saw through?
Monica's dad: Monica, I can't tell you cause I've never had x-ray vision.

Me
Laura: OK, Jessica's eyebrows are like caterpillars.
Birgitta: They are NOT.
Laura: Yes, they are. Eventually, they will become butterflies and fly away. *does weirdest eyebrow flying motions ever*
Birgitta: Dad, mom, what do you think?
Mom: Well...they ARE dark.
Dad: When she does that one face (he was referring to the Elrond face), she reminds me of a Star Trek alien.
Laura and mom: ...
Birgitta: I'm going to tell her that. Seriously. She'll either laugh really hard or kill you.

Later, talking in the C-box on the Founders:
Jessica: Wait...are your hamsters killing you?
Birgitta: No, but my father just informed me that you remind him of a Star Trek alien.
Jessica: A...what?
Birgitta: An alien. On Star Trek. This, he brings up while he, Laura and my mother are eating in our favorite Thai restaurant. And he said it in this REALLY conversational voice.
Jessica: You know, Birgitta, your dad is really awesome. But he is sometimes downright weird... which is probably part of why he's awesome. It must be an engineer thing. Of course, now, I'm somewhat afraid of what your family's conversations consist of when I'm not there to listen...
Birgitta: Well, you DO show up preternatually often...and it's usually about something that causes waiters to look at us funny. For instance, my mother is at this moment upstairs showing pictures of you, Sarah and I to our neighbor.
Jessica: Oh gosh. I can imagine how THAT is going.
Birgitta: Well, nothing BAD is being said; if it was, I'd be up there strangling someone.
Jessica: No doubt you would certainly strangle someone. I would not want to put it past you. Dealing with bodies is just too bothersome.
Birgitta: Hm. I see my cleverly veiled compliment fell on deaf eyes. (Because you are reading this, not hearing it).
Jessica: Wha? I'm kinda braindead. It comes from playing chess for five hours.

Then we digressed. A lot.

Tashi, I need some dinnertime conversations from you!!!

Until very recently, I've been trying to live like the Simon and Garfunkel song "I Am a Rock."
Very recently, I've discovered that, while Simon and Garfunkel are completely awesome, their song doesn't work as an ego defense.

Lord Acton of Naples once said that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I have, through a series of petty events leading up to a rather major realization, begun to question what happens when the person with the power (or the absolute power, for that matter) is unaware that they have that power. That question, of course, leads me to a more vital question: what to do when you find that the power you used to possess over yourself is in the hands of someone else? What do you do when one person has the ability to completely alter your mood, cause you to change your path so you know it will intersect theirs and even take up hobbies other than those with which you would normally choose to bide your time? I should very much like to know the answer to these questions and so, being the nerd I am, I'm currently doing research. However, absolutely everything I've perused so far has been decidedly unhelpful. Thus, I was hoping one of you might possibly have gone through something like this and come out alive (emotionally...well, physically too, for that matter). If perhaps one of you had gone around feeling empty just because you didn't see someone; had maybe noticed that when they were separated from them they felt highly antipathetic and began listening to old Evanescence and Marilyn Manson as opposed to their usual Flogging Molly and Billy Joel.

Hm. I just realized something else, along the vein of power corruption. The quote only applies in theory, because in this case the power was not exactly ripped from my hands. I practically knelt down, salaamed and held it out on a silver platter. This isn't her fault. It's mine.

Shit.

"You took your coat off, and stood in the rain
You were always crazy like that
And I watched from my window
always felt I was outside looking in on you

Well, in case you failed to notice
In case you failed to see
This is my heart, bleeding before you
This is me, down on my knees
These foolish games are tearing me apart
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart
You're breaking my heart

Well excuse me
Guess I've mistakenen you for somebody else
Somebody who gave a damn
Somebody more like myself

You took your coat off and stood in the rain
you were always crazy like that"

I have come to the conclusion that I really ought to eat lunch with Tashi and Monica more often.

Tashi: Wow, there's this random lull...it's quiet. That's NOT normal. I'm going to start a conversation by pointing at a word in this glossary.
Birgitta: LESBIANS!
Tashi: CRACK!
Monica: ...crack?
Tashi: Karl Marx.
Birgitta: Yay!
Tashi: He has this AWESOME beard. Seriously, it's all *does slightly spastic hand motions in general vicinity of her chin*
Monica: Hey, that was a Monica gesture!
Birgitta: Weird. It was. New word?
Tashi: Ok...KAMA SUT---oh, I shouldn't yell that, probably.
Birgitta: *is laughing*
Monica: Is that like Japanese anime?
Birgitta and Tashi: *are BOTH laughing by now*
Birgitta: It's not anime. It's tantric sex.
Owen (showing up at the WORST time): ...hi.
Tashi, Monica, Birgitta: *are now completely hysterical*
Birgitta: Owen, you have terrible timing.
Tashi: Yeah? Well...go karma sutra...*opens to random page* the Persian Tradition! Hm. That sounds like a really smooth move...you know, the "persian tradition."
Birgitta: Why does the word "sodomy" come to mind?
Monica: Wait! Why was there kama sutra in your history book?!
Owen: Um.
Birgitta: You know, that's a REALLY good question. I can see the Torah, and the Koran, and the Bible, and the Declaration of Independence...but the Kama Sutra?
Tashi: Well, go karma sutra *turns to random page* NO! *turns to another random page* NO! We've done this one! *turns again* FINE! Go sodomize the occupants of the Ivory Coast (or something like that)!
Birgitta: Wow, THAT explains all the AIDS...
So apparently, my hormones are responsible for the AIDS quilt.

Monica: Oh, did I just flash you guys? I'm sorry...wait, no I'm not. I don't care.
Birgitta and Tashi: ...
Monica: I mean, I usually say "no one wants to see me flash them" but ONE PERSON always raises their hand and says, "Well, actually..."
Birgitta and Tashi: ...!
Monica: I don't care if I flash people, but people care if I flash them.
Birgitta: Your underwear makes people care!
Monica: Yeah! (chanting) My underwear makes people care...HEY! I have...ANTI-APATHY UNDERWEAR!!!
Birgitta and Tashi: Oh my GOD! YES!
Yep. Monica's anti-apathy underwear will save us all.

Alison...I found that copy. So you don't have to dumpster-dive for me ;-)

Oh, and I apparently have a kinky Russian dictator fetish. At least, I do according to Tashi's history book.

"For we're the kings of it all
For the day we were born
Now we're the kings of the Kilburn High
Sure we'll always take a drop and we'll never leave a sup
Your empty glass is but a tear filled eye
We were the kings of the Kilburn High"

Let's see how many conversations I can actually remember. I have no short-term memory.

At chess club:
Jessica: The only way I can remember which space to put the queen on is to remind myself that her shoes have to match the square she's on.
Artemis: The white queen is on red squares.
Jessica: OK, on THIS board, red is really white.
Birgitta: Um...
Jessica: Hush. I promise, it is.
Monica: But wait...that doesn't make sense for the white people!
Artemis: So, how does it feel to be a racist?
Jessica (impatiently): Could we possibly get back to CHESS?

Then later
Artemis: Can I move the horsie?
Jessica: It isn't a HORSIE. It's a knight.
Artemis: NEIGH!!!
Jessica: Never do that again.
Artemis: One day, I'm going to a chess tournament and doing that. NEIGH!!!
Jessica: They'll kick you out.
Birgitta: The nerds will beat you up. Or, if they're anything like Jessica, do something WORSE than beating you up.
Jessica: OK, you know me.

Filling out a survey:
Survey: What is your favorite thing to do?
Birgitta (trying to type "laugh"): Laura
Birgitta: HEY! Laura, apparently you are my favorite thing to do.
Laura: *bursts out laughing*
Birgitta: *joins in*

At choir:
OK, this requires backstory. Basically, Kristina has these rubber monkey head shapes on her keys, and they have various facial expressions. She keeps on trying to show them to us, but forgetting.
Kristina (directing the gypsy song): Sopranos, we should probably figure that out. That "luba" sounds like...well, it sounds like a music box topped with a scene full of garish monkeys.
Jessica, Megan, Birgitta: Oh my God! GARISH MONKEYS!
Kristina: It kind of sounds like you're flinging sound. *does "flinging" hands, like a monkey*
Jessica, Megan, Birgitta: *begin laughing hysterically, albeit silently*
Megan and Birgitta: *breathe deeply and start calming down a little*
Jessica: *is apparently incapable of stopping laughing*
Kristina: What's going on?
Megan: Well, see, you did the flinging hands with the monkey comment...and...it was...*giggles*
Christina: ...
Megan: OK, watch. *does flinging hands*
Birgitta: *starts laughing again*
Jessica: *tries to keep a straight face, but fails and has to put her head between her knees to stop laughing*
Everyone else: *totally doesn't get it*
If THAT isn't the story of our lives...

Kristina: OK, so just in that section, I always remember this woman we knew...she was a big lady, and she was a cook. So I have this image of her in the kitchen with a meat cleaver...
Birgitta: Oh Lord. The altos have meat cleavers.
Megan: Heehee...
Jessica: ...so, do they have blood grooves?
Birgitta: NO! And YOU don't get any meat cleavers. You know, since that's probably violation of some law.
Birgitta (on the side, quietly, to Megan): Cleavage.
Megan and Birgitta: *snicker*

At dinner:
Dad: Maybe they should've taught that lesson (to be careful) to our church choir when I was a kid. People used to get hit on the head with hymnals.
Mom: That's where all the pregnancies came from.
Birgitta and Dad: ...what?!
Laura: *giggles*
Birgitta: Mom, you cannot...wait, no. Let me rephrase that. It is VERY DIFFICULT to render someone pregnant by hitting them on the head with a hymnal. It's actually hard to render someone pregnant with a hymnal, period.
Laura: Well, actually...never mind.
Mom: That wasn't what I meant...
Birgitta and Dad: Um...sure. SURE it wasn't.

In French class:
We were listening to a song that was about the conjugation of the verb "to go."
The song (in French, obviously): Let's dance everywhere/We will dance/I'm going to make you crazy
Birgitta: Why is this verb coming on to me?

At tango:
So, Sarah was pretending to be a radiator because my feet were cold. However, to be a radiator, she was basically just cupping her hands around her mouth megaphone-style and blowing on my feet...
Sarah: *huff huff huff*
Birgitta: You know, you're not that great of a radiator.
Sarah: *looks very rueful*
Birgitta: But you're a very pretty radiator.
Sarah: *looks happy, begins huffing at my feet again*
Random guy: *walks in door**notices Sarah blowing on my feet**gives us a REALLY weird look**walks around corner*
Sarah and Birgitta: *start laughing silently, but REALLY hard*
Jon: *walks in door* Hey ladies. What are you lauging at?
Birgitta: Um...*giggles* Sarah is my radiator.
So very true.

"If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you"

That is because of the hair fight in which I was engaged yesterday. Details are explained later on.

So, I haven't posted randomness in a while. Here goes.

At drama club a couple of weeks ago, Monica and Tashi were mock-angry at each other. This ALWAYS ends badly.
Monica: OH! It's ON!
Tashi: OK! *crosses arms into tough gangsta look*
Monica: I'm going to do gang signs at you
Birgitta: COUNTRY
Tashi: I'm going to cross my arms threateningly *crosses arms threateningly*
Monica: *shoves Tashi*
Birgitta: That was a horrible punch
Monica: It wasn't a punch. It was more of a push.
Birgitta: That's what they all say.
Monica: (To Tashi) Dance-off!
Tashi: YEAH!
Monica: NO! WALK-OFF
Tashi: YEAH...you go first
Monica: Birgitta, do the music
Birgitta: Umm, I'm not going to sing choir music during drama club. Particularly when it's actually QUIET, for once.
Monica: Fine
(Here, Monica puts her hands on her hips in the "model" pose and begins to do the catwalk thing. She takes about one and a half steps and falls flat on the floor.)
Birgitta (recovering first from fits of laughter): Are you ok?
Monica: Yeah, but my dreams of being a model have been crushed....but for once not by Tyra Banks
Birgitta: No, Tyra banks tripped you.
Monica: YES! This desk is Tyra Banks!
(Here, Monica leans over the desk in an awkward-looking hug)
Birgitta: Stop raping Tyra Banks! HEY! We should label the desk with a sign saying "Tyra Banks."
(Monica makes a small sign on a piece of scrap paper, stating "This desk is now and forever Tyra Banks" and tapes it discreetly to the bottom of the desk.)
Monica: Tyra banks had to destroy me, because I'm the one person sexier than her. ...
Tyra Banks is the only person I know who's more full of herself than me.
Tashi: You know Tyra Banks?
Monica: She tripped me!

Yeah, fun times.

Then, at choir:
Birgitta: Jess, your hair is leering at me again. (Looooong story, it's been around a while)
Megan: ...what?
Jessica: My hair leers at her quite frequently. Watch this. *takes ahold of her ponytail and starts hitting my back with it*
Birgitta: *ducks, rakes fingers through hair, then flips head upside-down to add volume to it in preparation for retaliation*
Christina (the director): Wow, I look up and *poof*! Birgitta's hair! That was cool...
Birgitta: Um...thanks? (to Jessica): I could SO take you in a hair fight.
Jessica: Is that a challenge?
Birgitta: Maybe...
Jessica: You're goin' DOWN.
Birgitta and Jessica: *start hitting each other with their hair*
Jessica: OK, this is serious. Hang on. *removes ponytail holder*
Birgitta: Oh, shit.
Jessica: *shakes head* (anyone who knows her knows why this is dangerous: her hair is long enough for her to be able to sit on it)
Birgitta: *is completely engulfed by cloud of blondness*
Jessica and Birgitta: *shake heads vigorously*
Jessica and Birgitta's heads: WHACK
Birgitta: Ow.
Jessica: Ow...sorry.
Birgitta: It was my fault. Proximately.
Jessica and Birgitta: ...ow.

So yeah, there are my two stories of randomness. Have fun with that.

"Welcome to my world, she said
Do you feel alive? she said
It's all a bad dream spinning in your lonely head"

Two posts. One day. I'm a loser.
Oh well.
I need to save these somewhere.


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net




Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

"Shut UP, Elaine Paige!"
OK, I love that.

Anyway. Tashi saved a bunch of our old MSN conversations. And I love them. So...here they are!

Tashi: Why does life suck?
Birgitta: Because we rock, so our lives have to suck sometimes to balance us out.
Tashi: That's stupid! We should just rock so much that we shouldn't have to deal with crap.
Birgitta: We should be a bove the crap! Like the lid of a sewage digester!
Tashi: We should be the HOLES in the sewage digester!
Birgitta: YES
Birgitta: Wait, we let out the stink?
Birgitta: Oh yeah!
Birgitta: OH GOD. WE'RE HOLY!
Tashi: We let all that crap just go right by us!

Birgitta: Tashi, no fair! (question:) Have you ever kissed anyone of the same sex!
Tashi: haha!
Birgitta: LAMESPICE!
Tashi: Me?
Tashi: NEVER
Tashi: :P
Birgitta: Of course not!
Birgitta: Scandalous!
Tashi: Of course!
Tashi: What would Jesus think?
Birgitta: He'd be jacking off.

Tashi: daviddddd
Birgitta: ddddddivad!
Birgitta: That's amusing
Tashi: da5id!
Birgitta: Davif!
Tashi: ytfkhmvgcbn!
Birgitta: alkdhlgdhga!
David: what?
Birgitta: Motherfucker!

Tashi: *gives your liberty back*
Birgitta: *gives it back to the person who had it*
Birgitta: *regrets this*
Tashi: *goes to new york*
Birgitta: *cannot get liberty back*
Birgitta: *climbs statue*
Tashi: *gets arrested by a hellicopter*
Birgitta: *discovers torch is really giant glow watch*
Birgitta: How does a helicopter make an arrest?
Tashi: *a very special hellicopter*
Birgitta: *with two l's*
Tashi: *with a spork and a loaded drama teacher*
Tashi: *and a dictionary*
Birgitta: *fuck*
Tashi: *not the statue*
Tashi: *that would be painful*
Birgitta: *no, that's the job of some people I know*
Birgitta: That's SO my new comeback
Tashi: *fucking statues?*
Birgitta: "Zach, go fuck the Statue of effing Liberty"
Tashi: *listens to "Statue"*
Birgitta: "Maybe she won't mind your narcissism!"
Birgitta: (3/8)
Tashi: "Go fuck your OWN liberty!"

Birgitta: YAY!
Birgitta: *cheers*
Birgitta: *dies*
Tashi: DON'T DIE!
Tashi: WHO WILL BE IN MY MUSICAL!?
Birgitta: Oh crap
Birgitta: *revives*
Tashi: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY
Tashi: *praises*
Birgitta: "But she wasn't REALLY dead, because jellyfish are immortal."
Tashi: *bows to almighty Clorox*
Birgitta: *looks very, very, confused*
Tashi: "And everyone was sad because Tashi didn't die, but they wanted to do a funeral."

Birgitta: My TV just said something about sexual sadism.
Tashi: Wait, what? Your TV spoke to you? About sexual sadism?
Birgitta: Yes.
Tashi: I would move if I were you.

Birgitta: I'm cutting out a little piece of paper that says "Jesus".
Tashi: Fascinating.
Birgitta: Yes. I'm now working one that says "Christ".
Tashi: Working it?
Birgitta: ON it.
Tashi: Ahhhh.
Birgitta: It's intense

Tashi: Blow Pop bubble gum SUCKS.
Tashi: :(
Birgitta (unintentionally): I know it, it's all...well, it blows.

Tashi: I can successfully have potty breaks without seriously maiming myself.
...
Birgitta: Tashi, do I want to know how you maim yourself on a potty break? Do you flush the toilet with a grenade or something?
Tashi: No, it's the guerillas you've got to watch out for.

Tashi: Matt, it's the music of love.
Birgitta: I gagged, then laughed.
Tashi: I KNOW
Birgitta: The gagging was a sign of love.
Tashi: Sooooo corny.
Tashi: I winced, then cried.
Birgitta: THEN laughed.

And it also reminded me of a memory (NOT all alone in the moonlight)
David, Artemis, Monica, Tashi, Sarah and I were all at my house for some reason, and we decided we should go to Albertson's and also try to rent some movies.
First of all, we were reading this uberstupid teenybopper magazine's horoscopes.
Artemis (reading horoscope): ...and you'll find a hot Harry Potter type to have fun with.
Everyone else: *looks very pointedly at David, then start laughing in an insane manner*
Then later, Sarah, David and I decided to escape and see how long it took the others to find us. It was fall, so there were pumpkins on display outside of Albertson's.
Sarah: I know! Let's hide in the pumpkins!
Birgitta: Sarah, you're a redhead. That would work for YOU, but David and I might stand out a little. We'd look like...I don't know, spiders in coats.
Sarah: Well, true. Let's go back here.
MEANWHILE
Monica: *is in the public bathroom at Albertson's*
Artemis and Tashi: *are panicking quietly outside looking for Birgitta, Sarah and David*
Tashi: *is impatient and bursts into the bathroom* MONICA!!!!
Monica: I'M COMING!
Tashi: This is NOT the place!!!

Oh yes...I was out, threatening to flash David. I miss that. Well, not the flashing part, but the everyone going insane part.
Wait.
We STILL go insane.
Daily.
So never mind.

Well, today was certainly interesting.
Or rather, it wasn't, but some parts of it stand out.

Since I was gone yesterday for mock trial (no ruling in the LC vs. Shadle trial, but 4th period [the one I'm in] beat 3rd [which contains someone I'm quite glad to have beaten]), I got all my homework a day early. But in spite of the fact that I got it done, I STILL have quite a bit of it.
French: Picture of family doing something fun (hahaha), plus questions about aforementioned picture
Creative Writing: Portfolio due. I have NO IDEA if my WordPerfect will convert into Word for the electronic version, but if it doesn't, SOMEBODY'S GONNA DIE.
Science: Get mother to sit still long enough to sign extra-credit form
Legal Studies: Mercifully, nothing
English: Technically nothing, but I could really afford to redo my annotations in the Thurgood Mashall speech
Drama: Read entire second act of "Proof," because Mr. Pschirrer's planning is abysmal

Yeah. It's a fucking party. Plus, chorus is cancelled and my mom's thinking about not letting me go to tango due to the weather. BITCHES.

Random amusing and not amusing dialogues of the day:

Birgitta: Mr. Lang had better get here soon. I REALLY need that sonnet (for the record, I didn't get that sonnet back).
Jon: Hmm, I wonder if I can sharpen pencils again? I sharpened all fifteen of mine yesterday.
Birgitta: *goes back to reading*
10 minutes later
Mr. Lang: Hey, what do you need?
Birgitta: Could I get my sonnet and my narrative poem back, please? I'd like to put them in my portfolio.
Jon: May I sharpen pencils?
Birgitta: Jon, I REALLY don't want to know about your pencil sharpening fetish.
Mr. Lang: Does ANYONE?
Birgitta: Um. I really hope not.
Jon: It's NOT a fetish.
Birgitta: That's what they all say, man.


Sarah: It's Jessica! In black and red!
Birgitta: And leather. (Not like that)
Maureen: Like a cow!
Everyone else: ...?
Birgitta: What kind of farm have YOU been hanging out on?
Sarah: Yeah, maybe if her jacket was black, with white splotches...
Birgitta: Yeah, but she has way better taste than that. Come on. Who wants to look like a dalmation? Seriously.
Maureen: I MEANT the leather part made me think of cows.
Jessica: Are you calling me a cow?!
Birgitta: I don't know anymore. I'M not, but I can't speak for her.
Jessica: You all scare me.
Birgitta: Well, believe me, that feeling is fully reciprocated. I say that lovingly, of course.
Everyone else: *assentive nodding*

Nathan: Birgitta, you're a dyke. No one likes you.
Sarah: I like her.
Nathan: That's just because you're screwing her. [Note: this is NOT TRUE, just Nathan being a prick]
Birgitta: Nathan, shut up before I run you through with a spoon.
Nathan: Like you could do that.
Birgitta: Uh-huh.
LATER THE SAME PERIOD
Mr. Lang: Some words have negative connotation, like...*begins listing*
Nathan (quietly): Birgitta, for example.
Birgitta (under breath): Nathan. Shut your fucking trap before I shut it for you.
Mr. Lang: *quotes Julius Caesar, with the "honorable man" thing*
Birgitta: Lordy. I love that play, but...it's going to make me kill something. It's EVERYWHERE.
Mr. Lang: Yeah, it is.
Nathan: Like you could kill anything.
Birgitta (loudly, pissed off now): Do you want to test that theory, kid?
Sarah: I do. I REALLY do.
Nathan: *grumblingly shuts up*
Everyone else: *stunned silence*
PWN'D

Jessica: Hey! What are you listening to? *indicates my headphones*
Birgitta: Garmarna, of course.
Jessica (singing): Linden darrar i lunden...
(It is to be noted that double Rs are rolled, and also that I cannot roll my Rs. Jessica enjoys mocking me about this)
Birgitta (in consternation): I swear, I'll...*thinks of something to do*
Jessica (amusedly): You'll what?
Birgitta: Um. I'll...I'll...
Jessica: Stutter bemusedly?
Birgitta: Pretty much...AH! Got it! *leaps, grabs ahold of Jessica by the shoulders, refuses to move*
Jessica: *keeps walking, dragging Birgitta with her*
Birgitta: Gah, I fail. At life.
So yeah, I have no upper body strength and no dignity. Oh well, I wasn't using either anyway.

And Monica, Tashi, Sarah and I effectively pissed off Mr. Pschirrer today. Monica and Tashi tried to jump Sarah and I with our traditional ENTHUSIASTIC GREETING (in caps because we all have to go "Enthustiastic greeting!!!" and hug the person/people) and I was smothered and surprised, so I kind of yelled a little. But Pschirrer must have had something up his derriere, because he went, ALL snobbily, "Go be obnoxious and loud in the hall." We shut up, but he was like, "No, get out!" So we got out and shared our rather colorful opinions of what his deal was in the hall, where we're allowed to be happy without drama Nazis sticking lids on our joie de vivre.
Basically, story of my life.

Other recent quotes:
Tashi (referring to the christmas musical): We need to bring the waitress's character back.
Birgitta: Well, duh. And it's the North Pole, so naturally, there'll be...POLE DANCING!

Tashi: It's an envelope. I don't know why I keep calling it a package.
Birgitta: Tashi! Keep your package out of the mail!
Tashi: I don't even HAVE a package.
Birgitta: ...because it's IN THE MAIL.

Jessica: So, what were you talking about?
Tashi: Well, we WERE talking about the plot, but then Monica started talking about gay guys...
Birgitta: Do you notice how often that happens?
Jessica: I think I'll go...over there.
Monica: *notices she is in a room full of conservatives* This probably isn't the best time to be having this conversation.

So, Tashi gave me a bus which sings "The Wheels On The Bus" when you spin its wheels. It's fabulous. However...
Monica: Wow, listen to this singing. These kids really need vocal instruction.
Everyone: *gets silent*
Monica: Watch! *spins wheels*
Bus: *is dead silent*
Birgitta: Yeah, they really DO need vocal instruction.

Monica: You look really depressed. Except for the part where you're smiling.
Birgitta: Ain't that the truth...

Playing Apples to Apples:
Jessica: You know, I've been sitting on this trump card for a while now...
Maureen, Margaret, Christina, Laura and Birgitta: *look at her weird*
Jessica: NOT LITERALLY. Sheesh.
Birgitta: *knows for a fact it wasn't literal*

Thanks for that image, Alison...I'm sure it won't cause ANY NIGHTMARES AT ALL or anything ;-)

So, along the vein of things people say...
Monica: I just realized the "Jack" in my email address could be Jack Sparrow.
Birgitta: Um, except for the part where Jack Sparrow doesn't have pumpkins. Usually, anyway.
Monica: But he probably has one somewhere.
(Yeah, I don't know why that's funny other than the implication that all pirate captains have pumpkins lying around)

At the Rubber Chicken con - the cheer was supposed to be "Bring back Chuck! Bring back Chuck!" (creative, huh?) However:
Birgitta: What if you don't want Chuck back? What if you don't give a flying fuck what happens to a piece of rubber poultry, huh?
Jessica: Well, we could think of someone ELSE to bring back.
Birgitta: Let's.
*various names are traded around, such as Princess Di and others, until finally*
Birgitta: Bring back...FREUD!
Everyone else: (militaristically) Bring back Chuck! Bring back Chuck!
The people who aren't everyone else: Bring back FREUD! Bring back FREUD!
Some moron: Who's Freud?
Sarah, Jessica and Birgitta: *stare in horror*

Backstage for the Musicking concert, quite a while ago:
Madison: I have to join the altos, apparently
Megan: *stoned voice* Welcome, man...
Birgitta: Come on, we all know that altos don't do weed.
Megan: We don't?
Birgitta: No...the tenors do.
Megan: Good point.
Birgitta: No, wait...the basses make all the jokes, so they must do it too!
Megan: ...
Birgitta: I've got it! The basses bring the weed, but the tenors smoke the weed.
Jessica: *in mock consternation* Hey! My DAD's a tenor!
Birgitta: My dad's a bass.

At chorus, during sectionals for a song called, totally un-PCly, "See the Gipsies," which begins "See the gipsies dancing high, see the gipsies dancing low." We were all talking about how the gypsies must all be tenors (see above) when there was one of those infamous inopportune lulls.
First and second sopranos, and alto ones: *doing something Kristina tells them to*
Megan, Sarah, Ben, Jessica and Birgitta (the second altos): *discussing gypsies and their recreational drug usage*
Jessica (in moment of quiet): The gypsies aren't REALLY high...
Sopranos and first altos: ...
Kristina (the director): ...
Second altos: *begin lauging apoplectically*

At chess club today
Birgitta: Zach, I'm going to steal your tights. Stealthily. Probably in the night.
Zach: Good for you.
Birgitta: But then, if I wear them, you won't fit them anymore.
Zach: Why, again?
Birgitta: Because my hips are considerably bigger than yours...e.g., they exist.
Zach: These tights fall of anyway.
Birgitta: Thanks for that.
Zach: They're right about here *demonstrates a relatively low position under his jeans*. They're falling off my ass.
Birgitta: Um, have you SEEN my pants?
Zach: You wear them OFF your ass?
Birgitta: *is preparing to answer, but is interrupted*
Zach: What size do you wear at the Gap?
Birgitta: Five or six.
Zach: These pants are a women's five.
Birgitta: Mine are too. Finally.
Zach: Wait, you're the one who has the same Dickies as I do, though, right?
Birgitta: Yeah.
Zach: What size?
Birgitta: Like a nine.
Zach: Two. Mine are a two.
Birgitta: ...you bitch.
Zach: Make sure yours don't fall off your ass.
Birgitta: You're going to have something UP your ass in a minute...
Zach: *absconds hastily*
Jessica and Sarah: *giggle maniacally*

Then, after school:
Alison: So, wait, how old are you turning?
Birgitta: Sixteen...yeah. Sixteen. (Yes, I did have to check.)
Alison: Oh, so you can drive.
Birgitta: Ha...I'd kill someone.
Alison (whose name my computer INSISTS on trying to spell Alsion): Yeah, the only special thing about being eighteen, aside from the whole voting thing, of course, is that you can be a stripper.
Birgitta: Granted.
Alison: Of course, the stripper thing is because you might still look like a teenager, unlike when you're 21, and so guys who like teenage girls get off on you.
Birgitta: *is linking prostitution and voting in her head*
Alison (NOT Alsion, dammit!): Oh, you can get tattoos and smoke too. So the tobacco industry is able to market to teens, because 18-year-olds are still teenagers.
Birgitta: I've got it. It's a conspiracy.
Alison: Exactly.
Birgitta: So, what if you're a stripper and you want to vote?
Alison: They can't stop you...
Birgitta: No, I just mean the image. You know, some chick in booty shorts and fishnets shows up at a church-type polling place and goes "I wanna vote."
Alison: Wow.
Birgitta: You know the old ladies who ask for donations at places like that?
Alison: Yeah.
Birgitta: *mimes pulling money out of a garter belt*
Alison: *laughs, but has reached the band room (lucky for her)* See you!
Birgitta: Indeed. *goes off in search of Laura, who is waiting across from said band room*

Yes, this IS what my life has become...