Holy crap, guys. Holy crapping crap sweet mother of Sean Conneryjesus.
So, I tend to try to not get too personal on here,
What about the time you told the story about bumping into your philosophy professor while buying lady products (in illustrated form, no less)?
Um, well yeah that-
Or all the times you've professed your desire to see Iron Man and Batman do sexy things to each other?
Ok so maybe-
Or what about when you made that post about how you loved everyone when you were dru-
Aaaand that's enough of that. Ok, maybe I am full of crap. Either way, I am now going to share something personal that is NOT an embarrassing story or depraved fanfiction-in-the-making: My boydude is an awesome boydude. And not for any typical reason either. No! Weird geek couples demand weird geek symbols of endearment. So, you know the shirt I was always draw Li'l Cynic in every picture ever? The one I'm wearing in the banner for crying out loud?
True, it's not gray or black but that is HARDLY THE POINT. Besides, he could only get it in blue or yellow (and blue is better) if he wanted to put stuff on the back. Go on, ask me what's on the back. You know you want to.
*Sigh* What's on the back, you psychotic diva?
I am a little excited over this gift, if you couldn't tell.
So yeah, I show my appreciation by spaz-vomiting joy all over this post. But I'm almost done so just hang in there.
Thanks, babe :)
Ok, I'm done now.
Oh, you want more things? How about I'm a mass of soreness and also sadness because my brother has forced me to return to my most hated place ever that is not the dentist: The Gym.
Exactly like that.
But I am squishy and such, so to the gym to torture myself I go. Don't worry, I promise I'm not one of those skinny girls who continually sobs "Ohmigod I'm so fat and sad and also fat and can no longer fit into this tube top that is the size of a gum wrapper when not on my body!" Right now, I have the endurance of an 80 year old smoker. I need to fix this. What if me and my friends get chased by a machete-wielding serial killer? I need to be faster than them (them being my friends) if I am going to have any chance at survival.
Finally, what the hell is a gizzard?
I ask because we were discussing food taboos in my anthropology class, and afterwards, when we were all walking out and chatting, Kevin mentioned that his dad used to eat chicken gizzards and this conversation followed:
Kevin: "I'm honestly not even sure what or where a gizzard is"
Me: "I feel like it's something in the neck area?"
Christina: "Yeah, dunno why but I do too"
Kevin: "I thought it was maybe like, a stomach thing? Where are the pre-med's when you need them? Who took anatomy?"
(As we walked into the dining hall)
Kevin: "HEY VASTILLE! Where's a gizzard?"
Vastille: (taken aback) "The...stomach area?"
Kevin: "Hmmm...hey, Nick (who is an English major) where's the gizzard?"
Kevin: "Well now everything is just conflicting"
And according to Legends of The Fluffy Owl Movie, your gizzard is like, your ET heartlight or something. It's magical. Well, as Wikipedia is the final source for such questions, they say: "This specialized stomach constructed of thick, muscular walls is used for grinding up food"
So it's not in the "neck-area"...in case you ever wondered.
On that note, I'mma go. This is Sugary Cynic, spreading the word with t-shirt magic. 'Night!
(As Ashley laughs after I make a particularly tasteless joke)
Ashley: "You are such an asshole!"
Me: "Yeah, but you're laughing at it, that validates it"
Ashley: "Yeah but I have inappropriate emotional responses to things!"
Me: "Dead puppies! Genocide!"
Ashley: (while cracking up) "NOOO!! WHY AM I BAD PERSON?!"