Biddiewatch: So, There's That.

i regret to inform you that this is going to be a lengthy entry since i've been on a hiatus gathering material. also i pierced my belly button.

quick blurb:

note-oriety's final show is this saturday at 3 pm. i get to say the word semen. so you should come. and see that. ...yeah.

also, DESPERATELY WANTED: i need skateboard lessons if i am to complete current projects. can someone hook me up?

in other news, i have lived up to my reputation as unusual by somehow managing to turn the left side of my mouth into raw meat. thanks, braces. more importantly, however, this cheek is now swollen to twice its normal thickness...making me look like i have down syndrome. closing my mouth is uncomfortable, as is any form of facial expression. so next time you see me, and my mouth is hanging open a little and i'm drooling, i guess what you're gonna wanna do is make out with me.

can someone tell me anything about friday night? thanks.

story time!

QUAD BRIAN:

this is an old story but needs to be published before it is too outdated.

scene: preview day. sitting on ground with gigi and shannon.

we spot a young man riding a bicycle. at the speed of negative two mph. yes, it is possible. BUT - he is the happiest person i have ever seen. he is smiling and looking around and wobbling some, and is wearing rayban sunglasses.

he turns his bicycle around in two circles. in place.

still smiling.

he come over and sits down right next to me.

"hi i'm brian and i'm feeling extra friendly today!"

i think to myself: this is the best day of my life. keep in mind that this is pre-biddiewatch, and perhaps the catalyst into my journalism career.

a chorus of "hey brian!"

relatively normal conversation, except that he is complaining about the pianos in the music building and is a business major.

"are you guys on drugs?"

...

WHAT.

"um, no. are you?"

instead of saying yes or no, brian looks at us and wiggles his fingers in front of his face. as if he is playing an invisible pan flute.

then he gets up...walks away...and takes ten minutes to complete the trek down the quad on his slow-motion bicycle. i like to think he thought he was going the speed of light.

CLEMENTINE'S:

so on wednesday i go pick up my bff from home, tracey. we go to dinner.

on our way toward the restaurant, we spot a wooden structure right outside.

just as i am thinking "wtf", a man approaches us.

"do you know what this is?"

"no! i was actually just thinking that is the weirdest piece of -"

"IT'S A PORTABLE CHICKEN COOP!"

"what the..."

"see, the chickens can move around on their very own! they can go down here and walk around, or go up THERE and walk around! you can ventilate it, and most of all it is portable! isn't that wild?"

quite tame.

it doesn't have wheels.

what?

"what are you guys doing at 8 pm?"

"eating dinner."

"well come see our presentation!"

"okay, crazy guy."

as we walk into clementine's, we see the following, confirming our greatest hopes.

obviously, we attend. we snuck in and were the only non-townies. we wished we were 21. what is the presentation, you ask?

there is a man playing songs on the acoustic guitar. no singing. and behind him is a masterpiece. there is one powerpoint slide - with a picture of a chicken. titled "urban chicken."

there is no spoken word. just the lone chicken and the man with guitar. we learned nothing, but i was not disappointed. it was all run by a twelve year old. i'm still confused about the entire ordeal, honestly. on the way out, we got clucked at.

RICKY:

this weekend i was home for chorale's tour, so i met up with some friends. we go to get mcflurries. i place my order with ricky.

he had the most inaudible voice i've ever heard in my life. my total was " ." thank god a screen was able to show me the damage in numeric form. needless to say, i could not keep a straight face and needed to take advantage of this. i told tracey to go say she wanted some sauce. meaning he would have to ask which kind. she said "what do you have?" and he listed them all. mouthing the words. i know for a fact nothing was wrong with ricky, so this was not cruel or uncalled for. he was a nice, sensitive soul. they were out of honey mustard, so we went with ranch. but thinking about ricky led to...

IGOR:

i triple dog dared myself.

i texted him and said "yo!"

then "whatchu doinnnn?"

it went so much better than i expected. he called me. and upon hearing his voice, i was reminded that borat also hails from kazakhstan. on the money.

"who ees dis?"

"it's allison!"

"allison? allison, you say you call LAST weekend. vy you no call? you call me now? vy?"

he is actually a little mad.

"i just wanted to say hello!"

"tell me vat you are doeenk now."

"i'm in dc."