My friendship with the Smith Sisters can best be ignorantly described with the following highly accurate Feynman diagram that flawlessly follows all of the rules of quantum electrodynamics:
I know what you're thinking: O fair Rassles, my brilliant, beautiful, bodacious blogging friend, however did you familiarize yourself with quantum physics? Weren't you a diligent speech major, busy writing a senior thesis that would earn you a historically impressive D+?
First of all, in my defense, I started that thesis a week before it was due and I was supposed to be working on it for a year. Second of all, I changed my major about seventeen times. Third of all, your face makes you look like a jerk.
But I dabbled in physics, for sure. Well, I've read In Search of Schrodinger's Cat, which is sloppy old school fun with physics, and I recommend it to anyone who wants to name-drop things like inter-perlative-quantum-business-something.
Sooooooo I don't really remember anything about the book except the pictures. Anyone who knows anything about anything knows that if I am anything, I am full of shit.
Basically, I wanted to talk about the Smith Sisters via graph, so initially in this explanation, I needed a graph. And I knew I wanted a Feynman because there were squiggly lines.
But I technically didn't remember the name of it, so I to googled "diagram with squigglies and positrons" and found it right away and I was all "fucking score" and then I tried to remember where I read about it since I've never taken a physics class in my life, and I googled "physics book with a cat" and then fucking Vwa-la (this is the way we spell things around here, by the way, because this is fucking America and I don't want any of your French-fangled Canadian verbal crappage all up in my business) I've got a complex explanatory answer to a question no one asked me directly.
This serves as an accurate diversion, no doubt, from the fact that my graph makes no sense whatsoever, and also provides a worthy transition into a rant about how my country is better than Canada because our hockey team whooped their asses, ergo I am better than The Smith Sisters because they are from Canada and I am from THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD. And I will continue to point that out as often as possible, even though they let me sleep on their couch when I'm drunk.
Unfortunately, that would prove to be a superlong blog post, so...tomorrow? I thrash Canada.
And yeah, I'm aware of my hypocrisy: I bitch about the Olympics and then write a blog post mentioning that game. BUT! But but BUT! Making fun of my friends, without mercy and under the guise of patriotism, takes precedence over nearly everything.