Monday, September 9, 2013

Look, a Ginger brother! Mom, can we keep him?

I went a bit stir-crazy this weekend in expenditures because I am now somewhat gainfully employed. And by stir-crazy I mean $35, like the price of our new Wal-Mart vacuum cleaner. My mom and dad both said they almost started crying when they heard I finally landed a job. Probably because they were excited their child isn't an unemployed loser anymore, but perhaps I'm just projecting.

On Friday, a dream was realized that I never knew I even had- a night out playing trivia with a plethora of astrophysics majors. The conversation vacillated between football and jet engines, satellites and words I can't pronounce. 

Perhaps the best question of trivia night was, for 2 points, in the category of "Women":
"What percentage of Americans identify as feminists?"

Offense TAKEN, Buffalo Wild Wings. I bet all of the questions in your "Men" category are worth at least 3 points.
Also, I don't know the answer. I'm not very good at math.

But even better than astrophysicists, which I initially thought could not be bested, was the arrival of my ginger brother. 
I would accept the fro alone as my bro
The wildlife sanctuary wasn't quite what we expected. The signs were the meanest, telling us that there were a dozen wolves in the habitat yet we couldn't see just one because we never took I Spy seriously as children. I think we saw more sob stories and gnomes than actual animals, but gosh it was worth it. 

See what I mean?
Love is in the bear? But the bear was in the tub.
So by the transitive property, that must mean love is in the tub.
The tub is full of water.
Love is water?
Water is horrible and it'll kill you with its drowning powers.
Love doesn't sound very fun.
At the end of the mile high walkway is where they harvest all your organs and feed them to the animals. You know, to keep costs down. 
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