Thursday, March 15, 2007

Skit is the Shit

Alcohol Units: I stopped counting after ten…. make that I stopped being able to count after ten.
Cigarette Units: Two packs have inexplicably vanished.

Skit is the Shit

We lost Sports Night to the Juniors. Again. The morning performance for skit was immaculate; [except for the fact that the stockings I wore on my head for my robber costume got stuck on the mat’s Velcro during my James Bond-esque tumbling move and wrapped around my neck in a deathly chokehold, therefore resulting in my life flashing before my eyes. I am the definition of graceful] our timing was sharp; the crowd was drooling at our wit and amusingness. The afternoon performance, we got too cocky and bombed harder than Pearl Harbor. Thankfully, the three younger years sucked way more so we got first place for skit [Skit is the shit!]. We came in first in dance, but second in tumbling [when Sister D showed the scores for tumbling, which we thought we had in the bag, half the girls literally flew in a glazed-over rage at her, clawing at her neck like Hitchcock’s “The Birds”, while the other half stormed out in a mini-protest], mural, volleyball, costumes and props, etc., granting us our second-best status. I kind of knew we weren’t going to win overall but, while I was really ticked off, I didn’t cry, a fact I’m proud of seeing as how Rice Krispies’ commercials make me sob. I’m sad because it was our last Sports Night ever, but I won’t pull a Britney Spears and shave my head and get a tacky tattoo or anything.

Sports Night Pit

The Lardy Boys

Only Sports Night could turn Liz Lang into a black woman

Skit is life

Wouldn't you be scared of this?

Enough sentimentality. While the outcome of the day redefined crappy, it was actually a fun day. Tara tortured unsuspecting pedestrians by smashing her painted black face and pigtails against windows, skit reenacted our Thrust-In-Thrust-Out bit, plus there was a shitload of cupcakes, which always makes for a good time. After, to celebrate the fact that we are losers, Bridget threw a little Bonnie Beerathon. Me, Brenna, Steph, Gia, Sarah, Jamie, Jackie, Amanda, Daniella, Kristen, Tekla, Jill, Gabby, etc., crammed into her basement for a Sports Night Sucks party. I got attacked by a very large bulldog, drank enough beer to do some brutal liver damage, participated in a Hellogoodbye Dance Party revival, drunk Dr. Phil’ed all over Jill [I tend to morph into the lack-of-hair-apist when alcohol is involved and use words like “self-hate” and “emotional shields”. Maybe I should stop watching Oprah so much? Plus, it seems people like to spill their guts to someone when they know the second party won’t remember that you told them you were gay, secretly loved so-and-so, into bestiality, etc. in the morning], etc.
Fave. Drunk of the Night:

Winner: Jamie. Why: Because she harassed Bridget’s pet parrot for almost two hours as only a drunk Fontbonne girl can [“Perch the parrot. Come on, perch the motherfucking parrot!”] and she slurped spilled beer off the table because rule #1: we do NOT waste beer!
Special Mention: The Two-Beer Queers [Steph & Elena] & the Blackout Babes [Daniella & Gabby].

Izzo Sandwich

Me, Daniella & Brenna

Definition of Sexy [Note Jamie's Tongue. Gene Simmons would be impressed]


Captain Jack will get you high tonight

Yes, that is a penis crown on Gia's head

Got home fairly early, just in time for Logo’s late-night Qaf reruns but didn’t even stay conscious for the opening credits [Spunk!]. Sports Night mania wracked through the halls of The Boner the entire week and, consequently, a migraine wracked through the walls of my brain the entire week. Pulled quite a few all-nighters as all my Major Art and Photography work was due this week, probably adding to my already numbed brain. This weekend seems like it’s going to make up for the shitty week. Tomorrow is my last Social Awareness at Rainbow School. I will be an absolute wreck [times the Rice Krispies’ commercial-induced sobbing by a million]. Friday night we’re celebrating Jess’s 18th Birthday with karaoke and a large amount of alcohol, which will hopefully lift my mood. Saturday is St. Patty’s Day, the one day when the Irish and drunkards are actually proud [I guess that makes me doubly proud?] I took off work so I could go to the parade in the city [I am seriously winning Employee of the Month]. Saturday night I might go to a Bonnie House Party [hosted by an Italian. Blasphemous I know, but there will be beer]. Sunday I have work but Monday is Senior Cut Day, which makes Sunday night available for some Sabbath acknowledgement [replace wine and bread with beer and pizza]. Plus, Wednesday is The Timberlake concert [!!!] with Weiner, which obviously is the highlight of my life. Hopefully, things will stay this awesome. My fingers are about to dislodge from my hands. I’m done. Ciao.

See, Gia knows the rule: No Wasting Beer!

Me, Brenna, Tekla, Daniella & Kristen

Me & Kristen

Steph thinking "Should I let Chree & Brenna molest me?"

"Yes I shall!"

Me, Amanda & Brenna

Love these Girls

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

What if Nathan Lane & ET had a baby?

This is a surprisingly accurate portrait I drew of Sister Eileen, a.k.a the hybrid of Nathan Lane & ET: Extraterrestrial, during Government class. Enjoy.

I Loathe My Job

Overheard in the Office:
"I dreamt I was at a penis auction"- Bob

This statement almost made me choke to death on my sandwich a la Mama Cass. I need a new job.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

How Does a Yamacha Stay On?

The extraordinariness of my life is summed up in this simple fact:
Someone from Missouri searched with "How does a yamaka stay on?" and the very first source to pop up was Blog de Chree. Go ahead, search it. I know you want to. Ciao.