So basically tonight I decided I was going to stay in.
and then that turned into, "hey let's make dinner and get drunk."
You know when you make dinner and it's all, "hey look at me with my rice. I shall make dinner, and I shall call it, 'food.' Oh, but there's a secret ingredient, and that's a little somethin somethin I like to call 'what's this in my freezer? oh, that's not brown.'' Adn then I don't even know.
Fingers are not typing as well as I wa nt them tol.
Backspace does not exist when your name is my name.
yipee kai yay motherfucker.
Me and Molinder decided that instead of bars we were going to sit at home and watch Ghost Adventures (note: dude that is the lead guy is a douchebag. Wears muscle shirts and unnecessarily exclaims things such as, "holy fuck did you see that?" no i did not. why don't you lift some more two-pound weights and develeop a larger ego complex. Honestly though, the show is perfect for him because if I were a ghost I would interrogate the fuck out of him) and then we watched hackers, because a) dbags R us b) peroxidy johnny lee miller is not hot as hot as I want him to be and c) DIE HARD IS AWESOME
So then the conversation progressed into this argument.
ME: Fate is bullshit because of blah blah blah and religion sucks
MoL: You are bullshit because you are retarded and you do not understand philosophical concepts
ME: You are more bullshit because this one time I met someone and they said you suck
MoL: You make no sense. Stop talking.
ME: Okay, serioulsy, Christianity is a facet of fatalism and just because A = B, B does not equal A
MoL: I was never good at statistics, and you don't understand
ME: HERE ME OUT YOU ASSHOLE
ME: So religion is a consequence of fate, because the whole point of religion is to find out why you reach a certain predestination
MoL: Fuck no. Fate cannot be predeterminted, it just is. The whole point of fate is that it's inevitable, but you don't know the outcome until it happens, and then you realize that it had to be that way.
ME: My logic is better than your logic. Rah.
MoL: Fuck you, you're wrong. John McClane will kill you.
ME: only if he's lucky
MoL: only if its his fate and you can't predetermine that shit.
(looks at the keyboard)
Say "Yipee Kai Yay Motherfucker"
ME: I already typed that
MoL: Ummm...Say "I hate Bonnie Bedelia"
ME: Ummm...Didn't I write a blog about that already? Wait no, I dominate, and it was a comment.
MoL: Ummm, when are you going to realize everything is not filtered through your blog?
ME: Ummm...when...I don't know, you're a whore.
MoL: Ummm...Okay. Bonnie Bedelia still sucks, and I heart Alan Rickman. He's almost as hot as Maynard, but not quite. I wouldn't blow him, but I'd give him a hand job. Aaaaannnnd...you're a whore.
ME: This is what I'm saying, dude. Blogging is fucking awesome.
MoL: Wait. I love this part.
ME: Ode to Joy, yo.
MoL: Ode to Joy bitches. And you know how I know that? Because I'm a goddamn oboe player.
ME: Because you blow reeds.
MoL: We should totally watch Die Hard 2 right now
ME: DIE HARDER ON VHS. Silver set, yeah buddy.
MoL: We suck hard
ME: Not as much harder as DIE HARD 2: DIE HARDER
MoL: I am totally going to go build a snowman right now.
(she runs outside, and I head out on the porch in time for her to throw her first snowball EVER at me)
ME: you dumb bastard. Are you wearing your bathrobe and my dearfoam slippers?
MoL: Dude the snow out here is awesome. It's like, puttery goodness.
ME: We can make better snowmen tomorrow. This snow sucks. There is no way you can build a decent snowman with that. Goddamn San Diegans, don't know crap.
MoL: It's the hush, though. I fucking love the snow hush. And I'm so glad I'm not picking up dog shit. Because people never pick that crap up.
ME: You know what? Fuck Bonnie Bedelia.