Wednesday, February 4, 2004

'Now I realise they're more like little soccer balls. Much faster gratification.'

School, whew. Long day.

First, thanks Michael for remembering to pick me up for seminary this morning. Bleh. And we're supposed to have 100% attendence this year or something...x.x;

Mm, year eight breakfast this morning [and no, it didn't involve roasting them, however tantalising it may sound] [mm...small children, dipped in cheese?] we, as the year twelves and the seniors, mingled and fed the ravenous beasts.

It was pretty good, everyone saw my little bro and said, 'he doesn't look like you,' and Blair's friends came up to me and said, 'you don't look anything like Blair.'

Oh yeah, and they also said, 'you know, Blair is so much cooler than you.'

lol

Yeah, so Blair managed to avoid me, his friends accosted me, and I drank like three litres of orange-mango juice.

^_^;

One of Blair's friends came up to me, the first. She noticed my last name on the senior jersey I was wearing [damn the usefulness of the thing, damn it all] and asked if he was my brother, etc etc.

Kauter and others got involved in in the situation and eventually someone asked, 'so who's you're older brother?'

She'd mentioned that she had an older brother, and it turned out to be Lachlan Close

About this point I resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

Why? Well, 'ole Closey had been the bane of my existence in year ten, causing a rather depressing few days in my life that resulted in some folorn/self pitying literature of mine.

Irony that his little sister should become such good friends with my little brother, no?

Musical practice this 'arvy was really good. There's a completely different air about it now, last year everyone started off self-concious and didn't loosen up until the end.

Now however, people are insisting on being complete and utter dags. [note the australianism :P]. Somehow 95% of the guys ended up with their polo shirts tucked into their pants and pulled up as high as they could go.

So, Dave and I, and to a lesser extent, Mark [who turned out to be le mole! *points* and had to be shot], started le revolution!

Basically it meant we started talking in a husky french accent [which we had been doing for days and hadn't a reason until then] and talking about a revolution that would entail untucked polo shirts and unbuttoned top buttons.

Hey. It was an excuse to have fun.

'Dave, see their tucked in shirts and their buttons. Those smelly english-pig-dog kashniggits!'

Dave: *rips button out with teeth*

Mark: 'Dave...what are you doing...?'

Dave: *spits button at Mark* *bites of second button* I have a second button for ze next man who questions my unbuttoned!

Eheh. Good times.

Le revolutione!

Basically the french accent went on for a while, with us recruiting people, and calling people British spies, and moles etc.

Dave: I burrowed in ze pathetic British secret intelligence, zey did not know they I was zere, you see

''ow can you burrow into their secret intelligence when they have no intelligence, let alone a secret one?'

*weird dirty/husky french laughter*

^_^;

So yeah, interesting day. Being tackled hugged by people, putting on accents, being told that my brother's friends think I'm hot...um..yeah.

x.X;

I do have a good quote for you though.

...which I have to give you tomorrow...x.x;
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