Standin by the stove...

Listen to this

Like a mirror...

Sarah Turpin and I are officially in a relationship... According to Facebook.
People say that Sarah Turpin and Paul Warford are the same person. I say no.
I'll get an urgent text from Sarah saying that she taught a great class.
Paul Warford will send me an urgent text saying that he farted and it smelled so bad. (And he was able to successfully blame it on one of his students.)
To be honest, the likelihood of me receiving a text from either one of these people is very slim... for different reasons.

Snow days make me creep on wikipedia

Did you know that the proceeds of the NHL All-Star game to the NHLPA players pension fund? Did Harold Druken play enough games to get a pension? I was installing a sprinkler system at restaurant downtown that was undergoing renovations and he was working there as a labourer.
"Hey drukes! Hand me that hammer!"

Listen to this:

Is it the tomatoes or the green thingies?

Turpin: Bruschetta is good for your colon. *Pause* Do I have a colon?

*Slight Choking*

Peter: Yes. You do.

Turpin: Good

*silence for about 30 seconds*

Peter: Did you mean prostate?

Turpin: YES!!

Peter: You don't have one of those.

Turpin: Good. I know.

Block and Key

It's okay.
We are safe.
It's like a back-room poker game now.
Bussey would win. He knows when to hold 'em, fold 'em, walk away, and when to put his facebook on limited profile.

Might have been the turn signal....

Zip Back.
The other week. I can't remember which one.
Bouge comes to town. She was in Kip-pens while her school fought with the people that worked there. Of course, Syrup and Bouge are together immediately. The go downtown to buy some clothes. I agree to pick them up when I get off work.
Me: "How am I going to pick you guys up?"
Syrup: "We'll start walking down water street and we'll meet you along the way."

I go from one end of water street to the other. Never saw 'em. I dart down Duckworth and make another pass. I spot them on a crosswalk. They spot me. They start yelling "PETER RUSSELL!!!! PETER RUSSELL!!!!" and started waving their arms wildly. I questioned their sobriety*. They didn't spot the woman walking directly behind them. She had an ipod and didn't hear the yelling but she had eyes and one of them was almost knocked out by a flailing arm. She was quite (and understandibly) annoyed. None of this phased the two girls. (understandibly)
The next part of this story is fuzzy. Long story short, Bouge is losing her shit, laughing hysterically in the back of the car. For what reason, I don't know. It's makes you like her.

Listen to something. Frig.

*They were sober.