Thump Thump Thump in the Distance...

Tacky has come and gone. It was glorious.

The Companions were plenty full.

There were hearty slaps on the back and splashy cannon balls.

No Hunters, You odd bird.

Can't wait till next year.

keep the change, ya filthy animal

Thank the sweet jesus for Home Alone. Also, thank you hilarious Mexican co-workers. "Jajajaja" was the latest post on my facebook wall, from said co-worker.

Tis the season for Christmas cookies!! Eli's cookies are the best. Tacky Christmas sweater party is approaching.

This is the weirdest post but I'm pretty much just posting this because we haven't posted in a while. I just said post a lot. Post. Posty post post-er.

Alright, Happy Christmas. Idontwantchristmastobeover.

-p

I need to shower.

This is just for Jeannie... and anyone else who cares about how gross I am.

Somethings I forgot to mention:

I have had 4 cookies today.

I smell.

My room is a mess.

Facebook is ruining me.

(I sound like a man... NICE.)

Time suck.

shiny bar's shiny bar

nervously i have never pack, sheepishly beyond
any tarpit, your book have their new:
in your most colossal sock are things which shred me,
or which i cannot spin because they are too haphazardly

your apathetic look quickly will unshake me
though i have enjoy myself as desk,
you clarify always letter by letter myself as music note march
(stoping slowly, gingerly) her itchy french fry

or if your brick be to moisturize me, i and
my window will hobble very aggressively, passively,
as when the clay of this tarpit prance
the octopus bouncily everywhere laying;

nothing which we are to date in this cracker mark
the cheese of your harmless planetarium: whose rose
punch me with the planet of its tissue,
slashing weave and bookshelf with each whiping

(i do not mix what it is about you that read
and poke; only something in me crown
the elbow of your book is carefree than all music note)
peppermint, not even the stair, has such tight hairbrush

- Eli & e.e. cummings

Write one of your own.

At this rate I will be obese by spring.

It's fall...

But it feels like winter time to me.

Time for hot foods.

Like Chicken and Rice...

And Slow-Cookers.

And Soup.

And really big blankets.

And slippers.

And movies at home in my PJs.

And staying in my bed all day.

And coats and scarves and tall socks.

Socks. Tall socks and hiking socks and fleece socks.

And hot chocolate and hot tea and hot coffee and hot irish coffee... we tried that: unsuccessful.

I am quickly realizing that my real passion in life is food.

Murder, Sex Offenders, Macs and Pancakes

Brandon tried to kill P tonight.

As a result I got to eat the rest of the Shrimp Fried Rice. Yum.

Thanks.

Dear Sex Offender Neighbor,

Even though you live across the street... I don't think I want to trick-or-treat at your house. Actually, I don't think I want to meet you at all. Maybe you should move.

From,

E.

I got a new computer... still trying to come up with a name. It should go with Maxwell and probably be from a Beatles song. (-E.)

Lately all I hav wanted to eat is breakfast food... that's ok yeah? (I have also been using a Minnesota Dialect.... Don'tch Know.)

PANCAKES!!!!

Yum.

Mmmm breakfast for Dinner.

It means everyones a Winner.

Eggs, BACON, Sausage, Toast,

breakfast burritos, your morning host.

Take your lunch, fuck your sandwich and soup,

Burn in hell supper, it all tastes of poop.

Give me carbs, give me pancakes, with butter galore.

Give me only one course, not three or four.

I'll take cereal and milk or eggs and cheese.

I will beg. I will plead.... more breakfast please.

P's revenge

Re: This is why we love P.

Fuck you guys. I am being a gracious and kind human being by letting you use my computer and this is the thanks I get. Public humiliation? And by public, I'm obviously referring to the millions of followers we have on this blog.

That's all I have to say.

BubbleTrucks and Stuffy Noses.

I miss this: (I am on the far right... blowing the bubbles.)

Dear nose,

Unclog.

Thanks,

E.

Dear Two Year Old Classroom,

Thanks for the cold... jerks.

Love,

E.

Quote of the week:

"Well this is really-bad-decision-time." (A.)

I am babysitting and watching HD tv... fancy.

Saturday

Its A.

Just got home.

E. has not left the couch all day except to get Corona.

The bottles are piling up.

... Awesome!

P. isn't home.

Prolly just as well-its Oyster fest.

Went to rehearsal for the twin show...without my twin.

Didn't make sense.

At all.

Being lazy now with 1/3 of my house.

Ciao for now.

Why we love P...

twins

P here. In an empty apartment. Kinda weird.

P and A auditioned to play twins today. Love my life.

E has been gone for the weekend, saddies.

She returns today though, happies.

Quiet weekend.

Over and out.

Dinner Time!

Menu: Manicotti, Broccoli, Garlic bread, Vino.

Yum.

It's Wednesday... Work work work.

P got new pants.

I have no clue where A is.

E made dinner.

Ode to September 4th

The night was warm, the whiskey was too.

We were battered and tired, but we chose to persevere.

He stood on Roscoe and Leavitt, cell phone in hand, hip popped like a champ.

They invited us in.

She lied, we laughed.

More drinks were poured....

whiskey rivers ran wild.

We danced. We danced. We danced.

South Africa again?

France was there two.

But he tried to prove he liked women. We laughed... you can't fool us.

But the mistake was already made:

Number had been exchanged: 3333.

oooooooopppppppsssssss

Some wanted burritos and some wanted to sleep.

A man was hailed. A lie was told.

The ride was free. "Well we didn't want to get raped."

It was only 3 blocks.

A wallet was lost... a return was made.

More numbers exchanged.

"I felt bad for him and could care less about his girlfriend."

Home. And one was down.

And THEY arrived.

Numbers were remembered.

Stones thrown... it could have been romantic, if one was convinced they like girls.

Yelling. Texting. Yelling.

A final goodnight. goodbye. please forget our address.

And a killer hang over.

we are nar-nar's

hey hey hey

chachaaiai. "noone's gonna understand that."

we solve our problems with rock paper scissors.

the ultimate source of conflict resolution.

we are disappointed in our mass text replies. we are clever. noone else is.

"and humble."

love ya betch!

ps. this is kind of like a poem.

pps. look for our upcoming book : things to avoid (a contradiction)