NaCl
Oh. Man. What a week. (eh?)
So it has been a while since I last posted... and as such, a crazy-ridiculous amount of stuff has happened to me and there is really no way that I can keep it eloquent. So since none of you other sad sacks have updated in a while, this rambling tome will have make up for both your laziness and mine (in quantity only, I am sure). Perhaps I'll even keep a theme. We'll see how it goes.
Last Tuesday. Did I write about what happened that weekend? I have no idea... in fact, I have no idea what happened and really don't feel like going back and checking, but let me assure you that it was full of rock... so the week of extreme rejection started up on a Tuesday after a mere 2 day recovery time. Indeed, it was time to celebrate the 21st aniversary of the moment we were all graced with the Swedish Gopher's presence on this earth. Is there any more fitting a way to commemorate the experience than by hanging in a very sparse bar drinking winter ale and eating ketchup-covered popcorn? There is? You are wrong, my friend. It was quality. That is, until they stole my salty ketchupy popcorn goodness. Yes, folks, the description of the week of rejection has begun. Congrats to the Swede!
That was pretty witty, huh? I'm on a roll and you simply can't stop me. Unless you close the window, I suppose... Anyway, on Thursday, when the bell tolled, it was time to do religious homage and DD over to Mills' fine establishment: Bullwinkle's. Excellent times were had with Emily, the Blue Eyed Rambler Gopher, and her cousin. I even managed to pick her up as a hot date! At least as long as necessary to get the shady folk away from her... and on Em and the Rambler. Ew. So we found out that the manager was leaving in 10 days. Photos were taken of our hearts being broken. Photos were also taken of Emily's new suitor, the bartender. He's cool... and hooks us up with free soothers. Booya. Right, so moving along with the banter, we left the ol' pub just in time to see the shadiest guy start a fight with a chap who very nearly resembled an Abrahm's tank. The fellow really didn't know what he was getting into, took a swing or two, was immediately pinned to the ground by the tank, the bouncer Jon (who ran across the street), and the cool (and now valiant) bartender who probably wears shining armor in Emily's dreams, and was jacked in the face. The Rambler quickly summoned a police officer who, hillariously, ended up being a tiny Asian man. "I am the authority here." Yes, sir, you are. Attempts at documenting the fiasco were unfortunately thwarted by the company I kept... but... you probably get the main idea. Oh, yeah, the guy's head was covered in blood. It was a pretty big turn on. Rejected.
So, I suppose it is time to move on to Friday, since the rest of Thursday involved company bashing and pizza. Delicious pizza. From Duffy's. You want details, I'll give you details, punk. Anyway, Friday, I skipped out on my one class to go collect my fiancee from the airport!
In the process I managed to wait for 42 trains to go by and 87 red lights to turn green. On the way back, there were only 38 wee little trains and 64 red lights, so the rejection was softened slightly. My partner in soon-to-be-(not)-marital bliss forgot what airline she was on... third pick is a charm! We snagged some Panera and gathered up an Emily for an extreme nap party. I dare say that it was delicious. That night, I drove as we hit 73 red lights and circled uptown about 10 times (aaaand I'm really not exaggerating that one). It turns out that uptown is the single worst place to park in this hemisphere. We met up with Emily's bro and chewed up some quality pizza at the rather generic Old Chicago. That is why we drove around uptown 10 times. It was fun, though, and spirits were high.
Umm... then we came back and rocked it up a little while Emily's new roommate went through 3 outfits, each self-described as "prostitute wear." Yikes. We flew down to downtown 'Polis with a cabby who found the crew to be annoying, but just loved chatting about his job. I'm a schmoozer, I admit. That, and I secretly plan on using the iOFF as an illegal cabby... gotta know the biz. Drink was the usual insanity as MJ and Emily were asked to go to the VIP section by "that one actor from One Tree Hill" or something. The girls may have been holding ice in their teeth and... well, the bystanders enjoyed their company, I think. Pretty fun stuff, I really have to say.
Following
Drink, we jittered quickly east to gain entrance to the Lodge bar. There, a pretty good band was playing a bunch of rockin' U2 numbers that I thoroughly enjoyed, I smacked my head repeatedly on an antler chandelier, and MJ/Ramber Goph stage danced. Debauchery of the finest form was had... and my back ended up getting drenched. Rejection! Salt! It was a night of pure salt, followed up by pretty much the most glorious mac and cheese party ever. That, and an amazing run home in 0 degree weather with an extreme collar pop. I shudder.
Surprisingly to both you and me, this only brings us to Saturday morning. And by Saturday morning, I of course mean Saturday afternoon. We dragged ourselves out of bed and feasted on both Chipotle and Potbelly's. It was such an incredible feat, Emily could barely contain herself! In fact, she didn't! Her burrito nearly exploded and she left her characteristic signature behind: food... everywhere. Mmm... so good, soo good. We then bopped over to the MOAwesome (Mall of America for those of you not down with the MN sickness).
Turns out that Camp Snoopy is no more! Surely you know what that little bit of heaven in the tundra was... home to the number 3 roller coaster in the world, simply because it is entirely indoors? Now it is simply the "Amusement Park at MOA." Amazingly, someone thought it was a good idea to remove every single Snoopy reference and replace it with the most lame thing possible. Exhibit A: "The Cool Shop." Emily set an all time record for number of replaced iPods at the MOA Apple Store and MJ did her best to boost sales in the AE by posing as a "white trash prostitute." Later some kid ran right into me, jokes were made, and some goofs won the Buckle game.
You're still here? Don't you have homework to do or something?
Yeah, then we did a Jimmy John's sting and took a tour of both the 'Polis and St. Paul. It was actually a pretty enjoyable time, particularly since St. Paul was all dressed up for the Winter Carnival with all sorts of ice sculptures and ish. Lights everywhere! We also listened to Fall Out Boy 85 times on the radio. Only the hits, baby.
So day passes, evening comes: the second night. I drove our Nalgene-influenced crew over to some bar in St. Paul after kidnapping Link to meet up with our former high school president and cross country coach. Now, it turns out that this was just about the most awkward event in history. Thankfully I looked classy explaining what a black and tan was to the prez. Worldly. Poor Link had no idea.
--Who are we looking for?
--The Junk and Coz.
--Ha ha! No, who are we looking for?
--The Junk and Coz.
--Oh........... no, really, who are we looking for?
It was fairly priceless. No? Perhaps you had to be there.
Righ
t, well, moving along, we hoofed it back to the Polis where I had to catch up while we waited for Em's bro... who also had to catch up as we waited for the Blue and White cab to come. It didn't. Emily decided that she would take matters into her own hands by running out into the busy 3 lane road to try to flag down cabs. Interesting how none of the "cabs" were cabs. We finally got one to stop. Inside jabs were made at the Blue and White until the cabby informed us that he was Blue and White. Rejection. Actually he was Green and White, the savage.
Said jolly chap dropped us off at some place called "Legends" where we saw way too many people from high school, MJ tried to take out some eyes with darts, and general craziness ensued. You're still here?
Ok, t
his was the point of this post, but I had to keep it nicely buried, as I swore I would blog it. Upstairs, near closing time, I decided to play a touch screen game. Noticing that I had a quarter in my pocket, I inserted said currency and began selecting a game to play under the watchful eye of a waitress who then informed me that they were closing down in "15 minutes." Rest assured, dear reader, there was no way that I would make it 15 minutes in this game. This employee then walked around the counter and unplugged the game. Unbelievable! I flicked... flicked, mind you... the screen in disgust. A bouncer mystically appeared and asked if I was "beating up his machine," to which I replied, "No, they unplugged it and took my quarter." He then escorted me all the way out to the parking lot. Ridiculous! Uncalled for! Rejection! Salt! NaCl! Ha ha! I have fulfilled my obligation!
MJ forgot her card there and we went to the McDonalds where we were again thrown out into the cold.
The next morning (night), we got up and went to the Library to catch the Superbowl. We were surrounded by 37 (I think?) plasma displays, great food, and 3 levels of awesomeness. They have a big cube of plasmas so multiple floors can be seen... it was like being at the game! Really quite impressive, actually. I think some radio station might have actually been broadcasting from there or something, too. It was scruptrulescent either way. That night was... well, it was interesting and it came to a close.
Monday morning I dropped MJ off at the airport after a short delay... leading to an unscheduled itinerary adjustment that allowed her to explore the high quality spread available at the MSP bar.
Oh, God.
I am tired just thinking about it all.
SALT! REJECTION!
The Awesome Squadron burned down the 'Polis.
Read MJ's account... it's better!
So it has been a while since I last posted... and as such, a crazy-ridiculous amount of stuff has happened to me and there is really no way that I can keep it eloquent. So since none of you other sad sacks have updated in a while, this rambling tome will have make up for both your laziness and mine (in quantity only, I am sure). Perhaps I'll even keep a theme. We'll see how it goes.
Last Tuesday. Did I write about what happened that weekend? I have no idea... in fact, I have no idea what happened and really don't feel like going back and checking, but let me assure you that it was full of rock... so the week of extreme rejection started up on a Tuesday after a mere 2 day recovery time. Indeed, it was time to celebrate the 21st aniversary of the moment we were all graced with the Swedish Gopher's presence on this earth. Is there any more fitting a way to commemorate the experience than by hanging in a very sparse bar drinking winter ale and eating ketchup-covered popcorn? There is? You are wrong, my friend. It was quality. That is, until they stole my salty ketchupy popcorn goodness. Yes, folks, the description of the week of rejection has begun. Congrats to the Swede!
That was pretty witty, huh? I'm on a roll and you simply can't stop me. Unless you close the window, I suppose... Anyway, on Thursday, when the bell tolled, it was time to do religious homage and DD over to Mills' fine establishment: Bullwinkle's. Excellent times were had with Emily, the Blue Eyed Rambler Gopher, and her cousin. I even managed to pick her up as a hot date! At least as long as necessary to get the shady folk away from her... and on Em and the Rambler. Ew. So we found out that the manager was leaving in 10 days. Photos were taken of our hearts being broken. Photos were also taken of Emily's new suitor, the bartender. He's cool... and hooks us up with free soothers. Booya. Right, so moving along with the banter, we left the ol' pub just in time to see the shadiest guy start a fight with a chap who very nearly resembled an Abrahm's tank. The fellow really didn't know what he was getting into, took a swing or two, was immediately pinned to the ground by the tank, the bouncer Jon (who ran across the street), and the cool (and now valiant) bartender who probably wears shining armor in Emily's dreams, and was jacked in the face. The Rambler quickly summoned a police officer who, hillariously, ended up being a tiny Asian man. "I am the authority here." Yes, sir, you are. Attempts at documenting the fiasco were unfortunately thwarted by the company I kept... but... you probably get the main idea. Oh, yeah, the guy's head was covered in blood. It was a pretty big turn on. Rejected.
So, I suppose it is time to move on to Friday, since the rest of Thursday involved company bashing and pizza. Delicious pizza. From Duffy's. You want details, I'll give you details, punk. Anyway, Friday, I skipped out on my one class to go collect my fiancee from the airport!
In the process I managed to wait for 42 trains to go by and 87 red lights to turn green. On the way back, there were only 38 wee little trains and 64 red lights, so the rejection was softened slightly. My partner in soon-to-be-(not)-marital bliss forgot what airline she was on... third pick is a charm! We snagged some Panera and gathered up an Emily for an extreme nap party. I dare say that it was delicious. That night, I drove as we hit 73 red lights and circled uptown about 10 times (aaaand I'm really not exaggerating that one). It turns out that uptown is the single worst place to park in this hemisphere. We met up with Emily's bro and chewed up some quality pizza at the rather generic Old Chicago. That is why we drove around uptown 10 times. It was fun, though, and spirits were high.Umm... then we came back and rocked it up a little while Emily's new roommate went through 3 outfits, each self-described as "prostitute wear." Yikes. We flew down to downtown 'Polis with a cabby who found the crew to be annoying, but just loved chatting about his job. I'm a schmoozer, I admit. That, and I secretly plan on using the iOFF as an illegal cabby... gotta know the biz. Drink was the usual insanity as MJ and Emily were asked to go to the VIP section by "that one actor from One Tree Hill" or something. The girls may have been holding ice in their teeth and... well, the bystanders enjoyed their company, I think. Pretty fun stuff, I really have to say.
Following
Drink, we jittered quickly east to gain entrance to the Lodge bar. There, a pretty good band was playing a bunch of rockin' U2 numbers that I thoroughly enjoyed, I smacked my head repeatedly on an antler chandelier, and MJ/Ramber Goph stage danced. Debauchery of the finest form was had... and my back ended up getting drenched. Rejection! Salt! It was a night of pure salt, followed up by pretty much the most glorious mac and cheese party ever. That, and an amazing run home in 0 degree weather with an extreme collar pop. I shudder.Surprisingly to both you and me, this only brings us to Saturday morning. And by Saturday morning, I of course mean Saturday afternoon. We dragged ourselves out of bed and feasted on both Chipotle and Potbelly's. It was such an incredible feat, Emily could barely contain herself! In fact, she didn't! Her burrito nearly exploded and she left her characteristic signature behind: food... everywhere. Mmm... so good, soo good. We then bopped over to the MOAwesome (Mall of America for those of you not down with the MN sickness).
Turns out that Camp Snoopy is no more! Surely you know what that little bit of heaven in the tundra was... home to the number 3 roller coaster in the world, simply because it is entirely indoors? Now it is simply the "Amusement Park at MOA." Amazingly, someone thought it was a good idea to remove every single Snoopy reference and replace it with the most lame thing possible. Exhibit A: "The Cool Shop." Emily set an all time record for number of replaced iPods at the MOA Apple Store and MJ did her best to boost sales in the AE by posing as a "white trash prostitute." Later some kid ran right into me, jokes were made, and some goofs won the Buckle game.You're still here? Don't you have homework to do or something?
Yeah, then we did a Jimmy John's sting and took a tour of both the 'Polis and St. Paul. It was actually a pretty enjoyable time, particularly since St. Paul was all dressed up for the Winter Carnival with all sorts of ice sculptures and ish. Lights everywhere! We also listened to Fall Out Boy 85 times on the radio. Only the hits, baby.
So day passes, evening comes: the second night. I drove our Nalgene-influenced crew over to some bar in St. Paul after kidnapping Link to meet up with our former high school president and cross country coach. Now, it turns out that this was just about the most awkward event in history. Thankfully I looked classy explaining what a black and tan was to the prez. Worldly. Poor Link had no idea.
--Who are we looking for?
--The Junk and Coz.
--Ha ha! No, who are we looking for?
--The Junk and Coz.
--Oh........... no, really, who are we looking for?
It was fairly priceless. No? Perhaps you had to be there.
Righ
t, well, moving along, we hoofed it back to the Polis where I had to catch up while we waited for Em's bro... who also had to catch up as we waited for the Blue and White cab to come. It didn't. Emily decided that she would take matters into her own hands by running out into the busy 3 lane road to try to flag down cabs. Interesting how none of the "cabs" were cabs. We finally got one to stop. Inside jabs were made at the Blue and White until the cabby informed us that he was Blue and White. Rejection. Actually he was Green and White, the savage.Said jolly chap dropped us off at some place called "Legends" where we saw way too many people from high school, MJ tried to take out some eyes with darts, and general craziness ensued. You're still here?
Ok, t
his was the point of this post, but I had to keep it nicely buried, as I swore I would blog it. Upstairs, near closing time, I decided to play a touch screen game. Noticing that I had a quarter in my pocket, I inserted said currency and began selecting a game to play under the watchful eye of a waitress who then informed me that they were closing down in "15 minutes." Rest assured, dear reader, there was no way that I would make it 15 minutes in this game. This employee then walked around the counter and unplugged the game. Unbelievable! I flicked... flicked, mind you... the screen in disgust. A bouncer mystically appeared and asked if I was "beating up his machine," to which I replied, "No, they unplugged it and took my quarter." He then escorted me all the way out to the parking lot. Ridiculous! Uncalled for! Rejection! Salt! NaCl! Ha ha! I have fulfilled my obligation!MJ forgot her card there and we went to the McDonalds where we were again thrown out into the cold.
The next morning (night), we got up and went to the Library to catch the Superbowl. We were surrounded by 37 (I think?) plasma displays, great food, and 3 levels of awesomeness. They have a big cube of plasmas so multiple floors can be seen... it was like being at the game! Really quite impressive, actually. I think some radio station might have actually been broadcasting from there or something, too. It was scruptrulescent either way. That night was... well, it was interesting and it came to a close.
Monday morning I dropped MJ off at the airport after a short delay... leading to an unscheduled itinerary adjustment that allowed her to explore the high quality spread available at the MSP bar.
Oh, God.
I am tired just thinking about it all.
SALT! REJECTION!
The Awesome Squadron burned down the 'Polis.
Read MJ's account... it's better!
Thanks for driving the Nalgene crew to St. Paul! Because, ya know, we can't all be like you.
aaand RAWK.
Posted by
Emily |
10:27 AM
Nips, you are one crazy dude. That is all.
Posted by
Radar |
12:56 PM
Nipple, I think your account of last weekend is better written and just better overall than mine. Thank YOU for letting me ROCK with you and the EXTREME NAP PARTY. I also greatly admire you and your tolerance for such sodium chloride. Just take it easy on those touch-screen games.
Posted by
MJ |
7:05 PM