Drunken Escapades, Pt. 2

A few days later, the drunk girl called me. I had to call her phone to find it, so presumably she misdialed off the incoming call list. I got a call from a number I didn't recognize and answered, with hopes that it was a job calling to hire me.

Me: "Hello?"
Drunk girl (clearly drunk again): "...it was Travis.  I... I paid my [expletive] bills!"
Me: Confused silence
Drunk girl: "I had so many [expletive] bills!  There was the [expletive] DirecTV bill and I [expletive] paid it."
Me: Awkward silence
Drunk girl: "So... so don't [expletive] worry!"

Then the call ended.  What have I done?  Does this mean I can add drunken confidant(e?) to my resume?  Cause I think that would be kickin'.  Maybe I would have finally been hired to the job at a bakery downtown I really wanted to work at.  Does drunken confidant(e) not add a little spice to a resume?  Tell me I'm wrong if I'm wrong, but I think this will really help me in the professional world.

The moral of the story is that I am never going to do nice things for anyone, ever again.

Drunken Escapades, Pt. 1

But don't worry, they're not my drunken escapades.

One night on my way home from work I decided to take a detour through the sketchy part of Pocatello (aren't they all?), when I passed a car pulled over to the side of the road.  After much internal debate, I turned around and went back to see if I could help them with anything (despite the fact that the only useful thing I might be able to provide is a cell phone with internet capabilities- my car knowledge is seriously limited).

The car had stalled, and the two girls who were driving it needed some gas.  I offered to drive them down the road to the gas station about half a mile away to fill a can with gas.  This is where things started to go downhill.  One of the girls asked me to push her car to the gas station... with my car.  Well that was definitely a solid negatory.  I talked them into riding in my car to and from the gas station, after which, I would take off.

I have had very little experience with alcohol, so I didn't realize exactly what I had gotten myself into until we were on the way to the gas station, and I started paying attention to what was going on.  One of the girls was moderately sober, but the other was very intoxicated.

Much thanks to my daddy, I had an empty gas can in my trunk for emergencies.  We filled up and then filled their car.  I waited to make sure their car would start and I could go home with a clear conscience.  If only things were that easy.  The car didn't start.  I pulled up next to them to see what was going on, and patiently waited at their side while they got into a drunken argument about what to do.  They decided to push the car out of the road and walk home.  So they started pulling valuables out of the car.

That was the point at which a cop pulled up from the other direction. DrunkenPants (hereby known as DP)  panicked and immediately got into my car while the more able minded girl tried to explain the situation.  The police officer asked us to get out of the road and moved on.

In her panic, DP dropped her phone on the pavement.  But wasn't able to comprehend what I was saying and insisted I call her phone while she drunkenly searched my car.  Meanwhile, Girl 2 started checking their car for her phone, which she was unable to find.  Then, DP confided to me that she had Girl 2's phone and insisted we weren't going anywhere until Girl 2 returned her phone and made me promise not to tell G2.

I found the phone on the pavement, where I knew it was going to be, and returned it to DP, who then returned G2's phone.  At this point, DP begged me to walk them home.  Even though their house was across the street.  So I accompanied them across the street.  And by "accompanied," I mean I navigated DP up and down the curbs and stairs with several "step up here" and "step down here" whilst half dragging her.

The best part was how they thanked me once we were finally inside- with shots.  They insisted I join them in taking shots, and when I politely declined, they asked if I wanted to watch them take shots.  Surprisingly, I passed on the second offer as well.

Such lovely folks in Pocatello.  I really think I bonded with those girls that night.  They also invited me to their garage sale the next morning.  I should probably look them up on Facebook or something, I sense a lasting relationship in the works.

Francesca.

GREAT NEWS, EVERYONE- WALMART HAS A SALE ON RAZORS.

BETTER... THEY'RE SELLING PINK RAZORS!

For only $30, we could buy Jorge a girlfriend!!!!!

Marina and I decided she would be named Francesca.  She and Jorge would be best friends/soul mates for ever and always.  They would smerf together all day, every day.  All in favor, mail us $1.  Then I'll bum $30 off my parents, and we'll be good to go!

A Tribute.

During finals week, I almost quite literally lived in the library.  I was at the library by at least 11 every morning and stayed until it closed at 2.  Obviously, I had lunch breaks, DrawSomething breaks, dinner breaks, napping breaks and exam-taking breaks, but I was basically in the library all day, every day.  So when I came home with Jessie on Wednesday night/Thursday morning to find my door locked, I was really mad.  Really mad.  Sara and I taped a magnet over the doorjamb so the door couldn't lock.  With complete trust in the magnet, neither of us carried our keys anywhere.  So here I was, locked out at 2 AM, still needing to be ready for my most important exam in less than six hours.  Jessie, who carries her keys with her, got into her room and found this on her bed:

Although Jessie and I were tempted to keep fifteen mini M&M tubes to ourselves and tell Sara and Marina (who were not present) that there were only four total, we reluctantly divvied them up fairly.

 With the following note from Ashley, addressed "to: The Smerfs"

While she was in her room finding this, I was grumpily making my way down the hall to Ashley's room, where I would have to wake her up and ask her to open my room for me.  Once I found out that it was just a loving joke, I felt so bad about how bitter I was, and immediately decided that Ashley is amazing.  True story.  And this time, when I say true story... I mean it!

Ashley- you rock.  You were a great, very patient RA, we smerf you with ALL of our hearts, and we will miss you muchly next year!

we are the BEST home teach-ees.

recently, we were informed that one of our home teachers, tyler, was sick. more specifically, the boys told us "he's really sick. and also, he's dead." so we got to thinking. about once a month, tyler provides us with a great home teaching lesson, followed by like 45 minutes of fantastic guitar playing (sara and i are a little bit creepily obsessed with his mad guitar skills). what if he dies?! scotty, his roommate will have to take over sole home teachingness. which is not entirely a bad thing, because scotty is awesome also. but then we can't creep on his guitar skillz anymore.

and that just won't do.

so sara and i decided that the only way to make him feel better was to assemble a care package. at 11:20, we ran to the creamery and got him some power pills (m&ms, reese's pieces and skittles) and lots of chicken noodle soup.

but obviously no please-stop-dying care kit is complete without a card! we mustered forces with jessie and marina and composed this gem...

a lovely rhyme and heartfelt message on the inside, with pictures of his favorite things on the outside. i guess it worked, because he's still kicking. but for real- are we not the nicest people ever? just click on the picture if you're having a hard time reading our loving note.

are we mother theresa incarnate or what?

if you too want to fall in love with his guitarism, go ahead and smerf on this link:

or this one

think of the possibilities!

ok first: possibilities is a deceptively hard word to spell.

second: for some funtertainment, smerf the picture provided here.

now onto more pressing issues: i think i control time now. or something. when i tried publishing a post about a week ago, a notice (the one in red/yellow in the right corner) appeared.

HOW DOES TIME NOT EXIST?! i understand daylight savings (kind of. i use the term "understand" very loosely here) and spring forward and whatnot (ok i totally get confused by daylight savings, but it's ok because i have great roommates and family who explain it to me). so i guess, in theory, this hour is just gone. but that kind of blows my mind. and somehow, when i try to comprehend the idea of an hour just not existing, the only thing i can think of is that i should be taking advantage of this non-hour. THINK OF THE CRIMES I COULD COMMIT!

officer: "where were you from of 1am and 3am on sunday, march eleventh?"

me: "well at one, i was in my room writing a blog post. and at three i was still in my room, sleeping."

officer: "and what about two o clock?"

me: "it's daylight savings, sir. there was no two o clock."

officer: "ah, well that seems like a sound alibi. on your way, then."

and that's how i successfully robbed the candy factory downtown that is never open when we try to visit it. without even lying! try having normal operating hours, guys, and maybe i wouldn't hypothetically rob you of all your delicious sweets and treats. your call.

Next Olympic Sport

Occasionally, on the very extremely rare chance that we decided to procrastinate our homework, we get creative on ways to entertain ourselves. Seriously, this is good stuff. So good that I believe they should give us our own reality tv show. We'd be international celebrities which would fulfill many other desires of ours...but that is another story. This story tells the tale of how we began mattress rolling.

It all started when Katie drifted into my room. She was tired of doing homework and wanted to be provided with a distraction. She didn't find one as Marina and I were busy working on our own homework. So Katie took to laying on my bed and speaking every off topic thought that came to her head. As Katie likes to live life on the edge, she laid on the very edge of my mattress- her favorite spot. One such thought that came to her mind (and she of course voiced. why deny us the privilege into the extraordinary world of Katie? it's a fascinating place, let me tell you. You wouldn't believe the smerfing that occurs there!) was what would happen if she rolled right off the edge of the bed? I of course responded that she would be injured and probably seriously regret it. She was feeling brave. She began to tip herself off the bed. However, she lost her nerve at the last minute, screaming and righted herself. I felt bad! Katie was not being able to live her dream! Who was I to sit back while her world fell to pieces around her? This injustice could not happen! I had to do something. Call me an angel if you will.

I thought about it for a minute and then asked Marina if she would particularly mind if I borrowed her mattress. Not being one to kill the prospects of a good distraction, she agreed. I maneuvered the mattress until it was right underneath Katie...then I told her to try again. Chaos ensued. See for yourself:

Wendy's: The Fast Food Failure.

Did you know that at Wendy's you can "eat great, even late?" But only if you have a car. Multiple times we have tried to go on a late night Wendy's run, only to discover they will not give you fast food goodness unless you have a car and can go through the drive through. The first time this happened, we just borrowed a car from a few random men. No big deal, guys, don't worry. We're alive and still virgins.  The second time, we had no choice but to smerf back to campus and grab my car. Lame.

By the way, did you know Wendy's gives out their recipes? They print them all over the bags! They're going to go out of business if they keep giving out their secrets like this....

Also, have caution. Fireworks are allowed on the grass. Good to know.

Some wise wisdom. Or something.

YUMMY!!!!!

In conclusion, don't go to Wendy's, because they're racist against people who don't have cars, and they give out their recipes anyway, so you might as well just make the fast food yourself at home. The End.

Happy Death Poems

Yes. You read that right. Happy death poems. We had a contest to see who could write the best happy poem about death. Katie and Marina and I each wrote 3, and then we had Jessie be the judge. However, she was indecisive, so we called in Leah to be a guest judge. She, also, couldn't decide between two of them, so we called in Emily, Vanessa, and Nicole to have the final say. Here are the contestants:

Sara:

I'm writing of death.

And yet I am so happy.

I am the winner.

One day there was a man named Frank.

He was angry and tried to rob a bank.

So he ran through the door

And fell to the floor.

Turns out he was killed by a tank.

According to Gandalf, when you die

You don't get a huge face full of cow pie

You see silver gates

And your old dead mates.

So don't be scared as your body begins to fry.

Marina:

Hiding in the tree-

the big deer walks by at last-

perfect shot- got him!

He broke my heart again,

so I shot him in the head.

There was much rejoicing.

I chased after it for hours

almost got it near the flowers

when I tripped over that vase

I saw it laughing in my face

but that fly no longer cowers.

Katie:

there was a dead girl.

she died laughing at our blog.

totes a true story.

sara just told me

i have to write another.

dolphins are the worst.

guys, i hate haikus.

really, i hate writing these.

vote for me, i'm best.

Leah:

i savor the smell

when i am in the bathroom

unclogging toilets

Random Other:

Don't dwell on revenge.

Anger not at stupid folks.

They all end up dead.

The winner ended up being the one about the tank, but it is still a confused and insecure victory, as none of our judges were incredibly sure about their choices. Oh well.

Comment and/or vote! Which one do YOU think should win as the happiest death poem???

...and that's why you shouldn't leave Katie and me alone with your computer