This crazy weather reminds me of the last big ice storm we had, which was when The Secretary General of Cool lived here.
Everyone was freaking out about the storm, so one night after class we went straight to the store and bought enough beer and food to last us a week.
That night the ground iced over. Then it snowed. Then more ice came. Then more snow.
We stayed holed up in his apartment for about three days, until the streets cleared enough for me to move my car. It was one of those old apartments where the heat comes out of the floor. So we would just snuggle up on the warm floor watching the snow outside the window, and it felt like we were hiding from the rest of the world.
That was one of the coziest feelings I’ve ever had in my life, and whenever a wintery mix hits and people freak, it makes me miss TSGoC something awful.
Why Karate Chop Calls Me “Pringles Breath”
While in London, I discovered the joy and thrill of having my toes cracked by Kevin. He would offer to crack them all the time and I would turn him down, but then I would work up the courage and stick my foot out, shrieking with fake girly terror.
One night we were lounging in Matthew’s room munching on Pocky, and Kevin asked me, “Hey Steph… have you ever had your MIND BLOWN?”
Because of the toe-cracking, I trusted Kevin to do anything. He told me to lie down on the bed, close my eyes, and plug up my ears.
Then I felt something sitting over my nose. Then a strong gust of air. Then my ears popped and my head cleared in a way that I’ve never felt before.
“Wow, that was aweso-“ I started to say…
…and then came the pain. An incredible unnatural stinging sensation, accompanied by a strangely familiar smell.
“Ow.” I said. “Ew. EW! OW! What did you just do to me?”
Matthew, who had been standing in the corner gaping this entire time, said, “He just… he put his mouth over your nose and blew.”
“Yeah, but what’s that smell?”
“Oh.” Kevin said, noticing a can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles on the floor. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten this whole thing before I did that.”
“And Then There’s The Ho.”
Margaret Cho once told a bunch of jokes about what happens when three girls are best friends… she said that “there’s always the sweet one, the smart one… and then there’s the ho.”
I first saw that act while I was hanging out with Rachael and Liz.
“Haha.” I said. “Ha. So which ones do you think we are?”
“You’re kind of…” Liz started, and then she stopped. She looked at Ra and they stared at each other for a few seconds, having a telepathic conference about me.
Then as Liz nodded, Ra whispered, “We think you’re all three.”
One response to “Three Stories”
i guess it would make more sense if I’m pringlesbreath, but oh well