at the end of the night, we've all seen better days
1/28/2008
I went home for the weekend. My family had moved all of the furniture out of my room except for a little cot; everything else was Pat's now. This was odd because I have no idea where they put it all. Did they make him a new room in the attic or something? They've also painted my room yellow.
I bought an adorable plush snowman a few weeks ago, at the start of the quarter, and I'd been debating whether to keep it or give it to my mom. I brought it home and gave it to her, and she thought it was great, which made me happy. My Aunt Irene's jerk dog Buster didn't like the snowman, though. He spilled grape juice on it (I have no idea where in the Hell he got grape juice) and tried to urinate on it but I nudged him away with my foot and yelled at him until he got the idea, then moved the snowman. Buster bothers me a lot.
We went on a family trip to some Mexican ruins. While everyone else was reading a really boring plaque about the Mexican-American War, I slipped down a square tunnel opening I'd noticed a few feet off the path.
At the bottom of the nearly-vertical tunnel was an cavernous rectilinear chamber built of green stone blocks. In the middle of the cavern was a huge cylindrical pool. Underwater, every 15 degrees or so on the edge of the pool was a steel harness. Each harness held a terrified-looking Pokémon. At the end of the pool across from the cavern entrance, instead of a harness, there was a huge steel grate. At the end of the pool across from the grate was a Dragonite, who looked determined instead of upset and scared.
Slowly the grate began to open. A huge, evil Seel began to attack the other Pokémon! The Dragonite pulled his harness out of the wall, then escaped from the harness. I started yelling "Hyper Beam!!" at the Dragonite, even though he probably was going to do it anyway. He hyper-beamed the Seel three times (without needing to recharge in between, surprisingly) and it disappeared.
A Dratini flew the rest of my family down the tunnel while the Pokémon freed themselves and we all cheered for the Dragonite that saved the other Pokémon.
(I have no idea why I'm such a dork. I haven't even played Pokémon in like two weeks.)
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER:
It is apparent I've gotten into Columbia. It's early in the fall semester, and I am in a club in an an extraordinarily touristy part of Manhattan. The pathetic hipster DJ is horrible, and it's becoming clearer and clearer that the dance was sponsored by some cell-phone company and that many of the people present are being paid by the company to be there. I leave, passing a Toys R Us and some other huge stores on my way to the subway.
On a bridge, I run into the DJ and a guy who looks like Mr. T (except he's ostensibly white, though it's sort of hard to tell because the lighting makes everything look purplish-blue). They're blocking my path. They won't let me get by. Eventually it becomes clear that they're trying to mug me. I punch the Mr. T guy at the base of his skull, knocking him out, and fling the DJ's white MacBook at his sternum like a discus or a really blunt throwing star. The cops come pick them up.
At home, my roommate (J---- D---- from Michelson, who is oddly unimpressed by the story of my evening) is googling for reviews of Pathetic Hipster DJ's set. They are aggressively apathetic.
"This guy obviously only has experience making mixtapes for cars," says one commenter. "He opened the set with 'Roadrunner'."
I went home for the weekend. My family had moved all of the furniture out of my room except for a little cot; everything else was Pat's now. This was odd because I have no idea where they put it all. Did they make him a new room in the attic or something? They've also painted my room yellow.
I bought an adorable plush snowman a few weeks ago, at the start of the quarter, and I'd been debating whether to keep it or give it to my mom. I brought it home and gave it to her, and she thought it was great, which made me happy. My Aunt Irene's jerk dog Buster didn't like the snowman, though. He spilled grape juice on it (I have no idea where in the Hell he got grape juice) and tried to urinate on it but I nudged him away with my foot and yelled at him until he got the idea, then moved the snowman. Buster bothers me a lot.
We went on a family trip to some Mexican ruins. While everyone else was reading a really boring plaque about the Mexican-American War, I slipped down a square tunnel opening I'd noticed a few feet off the path.
At the bottom of the nearly-vertical tunnel was an cavernous rectilinear chamber built of green stone blocks. In the middle of the cavern was a huge cylindrical pool. Underwater, every 15 degrees or so on the edge of the pool was a steel harness. Each harness held a terrified-looking Pokémon. At the end of the pool across from the cavern entrance, instead of a harness, there was a huge steel grate. At the end of the pool across from the grate was a Dragonite, who looked determined instead of upset and scared.
Slowly the grate began to open. A huge, evil Seel began to attack the other Pokémon! The Dragonite pulled his harness out of the wall, then escaped from the harness. I started yelling "Hyper Beam!!" at the Dragonite, even though he probably was going to do it anyway. He hyper-beamed the Seel three times (without needing to recharge in between, surprisingly) and it disappeared.
A Dratini flew the rest of my family down the tunnel while the Pokémon freed themselves and we all cheered for the Dragonite that saved the other Pokémon.
(I have no idea why I'm such a dork. I haven't even played Pokémon in like two weeks.)
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER:
It is apparent I've gotten into Columbia. It's early in the fall semester, and I am in a club in an an extraordinarily touristy part of Manhattan. The pathetic hipster DJ is horrible, and it's becoming clearer and clearer that the dance was sponsored by some cell-phone company and that many of the people present are being paid by the company to be there. I leave, passing a Toys R Us and some other huge stores on my way to the subway.
On a bridge, I run into the DJ and a guy who looks like Mr. T (except he's ostensibly white, though it's sort of hard to tell because the lighting makes everything look purplish-blue). They're blocking my path. They won't let me get by. Eventually it becomes clear that they're trying to mug me. I punch the Mr. T guy at the base of his skull, knocking him out, and fling the DJ's white MacBook at his sternum like a discus or a really blunt throwing star. The cops come pick them up.
At home, my roommate (J---- D---- from Michelson, who is oddly unimpressed by the story of my evening) is googling for reviews of Pathetic Hipster DJ's set. They are aggressively apathetic.
"This guy obviously only has experience making mixtapes for cars," says one commenter. "He opened the set with 'Roadrunner'."
Labels: Apple, bridge, dogs, family, fight, green, Mexico, Michelson, New York, Pokémon, pop music, public transportation
posted by Kat at 4:32 PM
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