Some Things Must Needs Go Nameless

Sudden inspiration, like a bolt of something or other ending in -ing, has struck. The result of which was several quite mediocre poems, one that was actually three pages long. It was an allegory to Audrey Hepburn's character in My Fair Lady. I fully realize how strange that sounds, and if you take offense, one wonders why you're reading this blog. Moving on.

Ben, as he has oh-so-kindly reminded me, fell on his face in the locker hall. He seems to think this constitutes a blog posting. So here I am, blogging about how little I have to blog about. (Hope your knee feels better.) Ah well. Dodger game last night. Dodgers won. I tried to draw Nadir and drew a very nice picture. Of his wife. And son. I'm trying to add him, so I'll have the Khan family picture. But I can't draw him, because. . .I just can't.

In other news, I started my Anthro project. Every design or drawing I come up with, Mickey, who is my partner - I know, trust me - declares it too morbid. So now I have this whole sketch that we messed with to high heaven. It now is a slightly elfin looking skull, with one of those funky lines across it tracking some kind of nonexistent heart beat. A Diet Coke is tied to it, and, in Brossy's large, messy, handwriting the words "WHY ME?" are written in all caps. In a different, slightly slanted hand, in the upper right corner, are the words, or rather, the title, "The Ghost Host." (Wonder who wrote that?) Also, in large, messy handwriting, "SPOON." (Gee, whoever wrote that. . .)

Well. Here we are, I suppose. Ooh, hey, I do have something to blog about.

It all began, as so many things do, during Anthro. In the way of Kat not bringing a pen. But we'll get to that later, no?

It all began, as so many things do, in the library, with Ben and I having a conversation. And that's really all you need to know to realize what we were talking about. Ben was there. I was there. We were talking. Yes. Moving on. David soon made an appearance -

David: Stop making me sound like Calista Flockhart at some awards show.

Ben: Why Calista Flockhart?

David: She has a long neck.

Ben: Oh. Wait, what?

Kat: Don't ask. Moving forward. . .

David showed up -

David: Much better.

Thank you. Anyway. David showed up, and quite sweetly lunged himself at Ben's computer with a shriek of "Black!" No idea what he meant. I sat there for a while, watching Ben and David tussle over the computer. I must say, it was terribly entertaining. At some point I believe I finally figured out that the librarian, who has superhuman hearing, was going to eventually have their hides, so I chased them behind the bookcases - or, more accurately, Ben chased David, but I would've if Ben hadn't. (Yet another strange coincidence in the heads of Ben and I. We need to stop this.) David was cornered by the Biographies, and stole my pen, but then he ran a mile and we went back to our computers, happy and idyllicly.

Gola: And as the elephant seals frolicked in the surf. . .

As the elephant seals frolicked in the surf, David crept down the stairs toward the unexpecting J.G. and resident Persian. He waved at me, and I, as loudly and obnoxiously as I could, declared royally, "Hi David!" Ben's head jerked up with all the alertness of Ben when there is David-chasing-and-possible-Punjabbing to be had, David threw my pen at him, then grabbed it once more and off they went!

Tally ho!

Yes, rather. Ben was making a very kind effort to save my pen, and in the process, just sort of annoying David, which he has described as "The only thing that gives me any pleasure in life. Oh, that, and having strange conversations with you."

They eventually crashed on a bench, and when I found them it sort of looked like they were both proposing marriage to each other, except they'd both done it at once and there'd been some sort of disagreement about rings, so they were knee wrestling. (?!) Point is, they were fighting.

(Not of course to insinuate that the above simile would actually happen. It wouldn't. But then, Ben was the one who thought up the idea of pairings in our little gang, so blame it all on him. He never said no slash. Not that I'm pairing Ben and David. Oh, for heaven's sakes, the only person who has a chance of being offended by this sentence generally understands what I mean anyway, so I'll just shut up before I dig the whole I'm in any deeper. Allow me to close by saying that I am quite sure for a multitude of reasons, one reason being named Rachel, and the other sometimes being named Jenny but not all the time, that David and Ben are quite straight. However - Goddamnit, we're never going to move on at this rate.)

Ben: That was a terribly long parentheses.

Kat: Yes, and all for the sake of not offending you. And David, if he starts to read this.

Ben: Oh. (Thinks for a moment.) Thanks?

Moving on. Where were we? Oh yes. Ben and David knee-wrestling over my pen. So I run in there, feeling like Wendy trying to seperate two fighting Lost Boys, and suddenly realize something awfully funny.

Kat: (Falls onto bench laughing.)

Ben: What?! What?!

Kat: That's not my pen! It's David's! I borrowed it from him in Anthro!

Now do you understand why this post began with a random Anthro. . .thing?

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.