A true gladiator

GOOD EVENING WORLD!

Gosh darn I sure have been writing more blogs than usual lately. Lets see if this has an indirect relation to my grades this semester.

Yesterday I went out for dinner/movie time with Matt for our anniversary.

Time flies! Feels like only yesterday when I started throwing his name into blogs without ever properly explaining his role in my life.

(Not an imaginary boyfriend, even.)

We wait around for a while until we're seated at our table. Our waiter for the night stops by and makes some menu recommendations for us.

I need not your recommendations, waiter, for I read the entire menu online before coming to this restaurant and have made my decisions in advance! HA HA!

(Is this neurotic? Because some people seem to think so, but I just like efficiency.)

Anyway, the waiter says to us: "Alright my name's Matt, you guys, so holler if you need anything," and walks away.

Because I am incapable of listening properly, I lean over the table to my-Matt, and wide-eyed, whisper: "HIS NAME IS MAXIMUS!?"

Matt looks at me, deciphering my cryptic code.

He pauses, and says "No, Larissa, he said his name was 'Matt, you guys."

Oh.

Well now any service we received from Not-Maximus was gonna be sub par, for sure.

Surely he didn't have a dramatic and heart wrenching story of how he became a waiter, either.

Pic unrelated to the blog topic, but very related to how depressed I get when faced with simple first world problems.

Unappreciated genius

We're gonna just start this with an unrelated pic and then get to the meat and potatoes:


Now then:

Often my pop culture references are not appreciated in my house.

Allusions to old videogames or mayhaps a movie quote are both heard, and eschewed. (A GREAT WORD, Don't you think?)

"Eschewed" eschewed though, I frequently talk about my day/unfortunate circumstances at home, to which my father always replies, whether or not he was even listening, "WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD, LARISSA."

When he can't find the remote for the TV and I say this to him, he does not appreciate his brand of comedic genius to the same extent.

C'est la vie.

Yet every time he says it I always want to say "Coulda sworn I took the blue pill."

In fact, perhaps I have but the joke went off with so little success I have eschewed it from my mind.

(BING BANG BOOM)

Sadly Matrix references are not enjoyed in my house.

NOT RELATEDLY: Neither are 90s pop band references either, witnessed when my father was discussing frustrations with his 7 member cover-band with my mother.

My mother replies "Well its always hard to keep everyone happy in a group of 7."

This is true.

Comedic genius that I am, I offer my wisdom: "Yeah man, S Club 7 couldn't make it work."

YET: CRICKETS.

Coulda SWORN there ain't no party like an S club party.

NO ONE APPRECIATES MY CAPSLOCK OR HUMOUR.

Welcome to the real world, Larissa. Turns out I was just eating Mike & Ikes all along.

Winter Accessories

Yesterday I went to the football game with HB.

I always make sure to wear my glasses at sporting events so I can see the ball/puck, otherwise I get baited into supporting the other team with traitors cheer, and my cheer-reflexes kick in before I can see what the hell is going on.

NeWaiZ~* there were two memorable moments involving NOT the game, but the cheerleaders.

Moment 1:

We are watching the cheerleaders as they're pepping up the crowd, and one guy has another cheer leader on his shoulders.

HB leans over and says "I bet that guy loves his life."

"What?" I ask, its pretty loud with all the "DEEE. FENCE!" happening.

"I bet that guy loves his life."

"That guy lost his wife? Wow."

"No..."

"How do you know he lost his wife?"

"Uhh..."

I have gone down in history as someone who routinely mishears things, then feels a need to repeat my interpretations out loud.

MOMENT 2!

Cheerleaders are again pepping up the crowd, when a male cheerleader goes to lift a female cheerleader onto his shoulders again. But he really under-shoots it, and ends up placing her right on top of his head. Crotch meet skull.

I giggle and let HB know of the mistake.

Later you can see two male cheerleaders talking to each other making gestures towards their heads, clearly running a play by play of the mistake.

I giggle again and tell HB the guy was wearing the cheerleader as a hat.

HB laughs.

"Like one of those winter toques where they have a scarf attached to it. Getting cold? Just throw an ol' leg around your neck!"

PIC RELATED! INCONCEIVABLE.

Like that. But less fuzzy wild animal, more lower torso.

I am not witty enough to title this today

TODAY'S BLOG IS GON' BE ABOUT POKEMON.

I mean, my bio to the right has clearly stated that I am a pokemon master, and has for many many months, but lets face it: my poke-skills are sub par.

HOWEVER!

HB introduced me to a website where I can play pokemon games on an online emulator, and BY GOLLY, my life has changed.

Mostly due to the fact that playing Zelda games on my n64 emulator is getting significantly difficult when I only have the arrow keys to navigate.

Point being: This blog entry may seem un-funny to those who never played pokemon, but thats your fault, not my lack of humour. Jesus.

INTRODUCTION OVER: NOW TIME FOR MY STORY.

Yesterday I met up with mah crew for lunch and we started discussing halloween costume plans. This is serious business as I plan my halloween costumes a good year in advance. This year I plan on being a NOT-SLUTTY, OKAY, interpretation of a storm trooper. Though I have toyed with the idea of dressing up as Ash Ketchum for a while now.. I also thought of being the infamous MISSINGNO.

"I just wanna print out a huge pixelated grey image and glue it to cardboard and wear it," I say,

"And people will come up to me going 'YO WHAT ARE YOU?' and I'll say 'I'm missingno., silly.' Then later they'll go talk to a guy dressed as an old man for halloween and reach into their pocket and go 'WHAAAAT? UNLIMITED MASTER BALLS? HOW CAN THIS BE?"

Yes. How can this be indeed. Just a little bit of pokemon magic.

More unbelievably: THIS PIC IS RELATED.

and master balls.

ARTISTICALLY UNTITLED

I don't go out much anymore.

Mostly this is due to the fact that i am:

1. Cheap and hate paying for alcohol and cabs
2. Have too much pride to let randoms buy me drinks all night to remedy #1
3. Unable to deal with hangovers anymore

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, I figured I'd throw caution to the wind last weekend and headed out to the bar with HB.

Now, I'm not opposed to a bit of banter with random members of the opposite sex. As long as there is no straight up "Yo babe u wanna git with this tonight?" talk I will entertain a 3 minute conversation.

BUT SOMETIMES

SOMETIMES I can't help but be a little mean when a guy won't get the hint. And thus, the PICKUP LINE PUTDOWN CATEGORY was created.

Highlights from a conversation with a man who was wearing the rings of a 6-pack holder as a bracelet (yeah, it wasn't really starting well..):

6-pack: You know, you're being kind of rude.

L: "Yet you're still talking to me."

6-pack: "Well I just like a challenge."

"But I'm being rude to you! You like bitches."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do. You probably whine about how girls always like assholes but YOU, you like bitches!"

and

6-pack: "Are you playing games with me?"

L: "Like zelda, or... what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying.. lets say I have a chance with you tonight.."

"Then you're using a game shark and you're cheating."

Shoulda known the gameshark line would set off a wave of nostalgia that could not be stopped.

Eventually he left, along with his polite, normal friend who watched the whole fiasco with HB.

Because HB,

HB always gets the normal ones.

PIC UNREALTED!!!

Lowered expectations

Dear Diary,

Last night I went out to the ol' avenue to watch my friends get drunk while I waited to drive them home.

Sounds like my idea of a good time!

Later on in the night I accompanied Elyse outside to watch her smoke (I really am the life of the party) when a rather disheveled looking young man walks past us.

He walks past us, stops, slowly turns around, and with a completely straight face, says "I would."

Uhhh.

Being raised as a poised and grateful young woman, I say "Thanks," and he gives me back the finger-gun point and takes this as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with us. DAMN, my inability to keep my mouth shut just turned this into a

PICK UP LINE PUTDOWN BLOG ENTRY.

PICK UP LINE PUTDOWN BLOG ENTRY.

PICK UP LINE PUTDOWN BLOG ENTRY.

PICK UP LINE PUTDOWN BLOG ENTRY.

PICK UP LINE PUTDOWN BLOG ENTRY.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this guy isn't very suave with the ladies. Our conversation goes as follows:

Disheveled-Guy: "OH? UHHH, YOU'RE WELCOME."

His utter surprise at the fact I said thank you really makes me wonder how low his expectations were for this delightful exchange. Perhaps he gets off on the "EWWW YOU JERK" response. I told him as long as he was being sincere then the thank you stands. Though my analysis of his pick-up lines was probably starting a tiny little explosion in his head, because he responded:

"Yeah man. So uh.. do you like to party?"

(POST SCRIPT: REALLY?????? Party like snort lines of da yayo off stripper tits or.. play Scategories?)

I reply: "Thats a pretty loaded question so uh.. yeah. Sometimes. Probably not though."

DG: "'Cause we're partying at The Rack tonight!"

"Great! I'll meet you there." (Brush off attempt #1)

DG: "Hey do you know Brayden?"

"No."

DG: "Oh man you should totally meet Brayden."

"Awesome, tell him I say hi when you get to The Rack!" (Brush off attempt #2)

DG: "Yeah, okay. See you there."

I'm sure me and Brayden are really gonna hit it off. Last time a guy asked me if I wanted to party replied with some variation of "I don't want to have sex with you," and got my invite rescinded POST HASTE.

On another note, don't you hate when you meet people that are clearly speaking in bold text all the time? I CAN TELL.

Naturally this pic is unrelated: