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Kevin Philips BONG
Apr. 3rd, 2005 09:30 pm(Slllightly silly.)
We had Weather blow through yesterday, in the form of a severe winter storm with shingle-loosening, door-tipping, bong-smashing winds. Here in Oberlin we got only an inch of snow, but places a bit to the north got a foot and a half. I suppose I should be grateful for that, but it was grim indeed to look out the window yesterday morning and see white.
If you're curious about my choice of epithets for the winds, above, there is a reason for them. There was an old door propped up against our house in the back yard, which the wind blew over. Behind said door was concealed a fairly fru-fru bong, which the door and the wind conspired to smash. I have to assume it belongs to the hooligan lads who live upstairs, who are (maybe) sixteen and (presumably) concerned with hiding such things from their mother. I'm not sure if I should tell the mom; I don't want to interfere with another family, but then I don't want our landlord finding it and assuming it's mine. (I have long hair and a goatee; therefore, it is assumed I am hot for the ganj.) I imagine I'll just clean up the glass tomorrow, and let the lads build a new bong out of a dried apple, like kids are supposed to.
K. missed the snow this weekend, as she was in Madison for CAMWS. I took the opportunity last night to pan-broil an inch-thick steak, slather it with grilled onions, accompany it with steak fries and a Gibson's root beer, and watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (which I'd managed never to see, despite projecting it for some large number of weeks). Sometimes it's nice to have a dinner of testosteroni.
We had Weather blow through yesterday, in the form of a severe winter storm with shingle-loosening, door-tipping, bong-smashing winds. Here in Oberlin we got only an inch of snow, but places a bit to the north got a foot and a half. I suppose I should be grateful for that, but it was grim indeed to look out the window yesterday morning and see white.
If you're curious about my choice of epithets for the winds, above, there is a reason for them. There was an old door propped up against our house in the back yard, which the wind blew over. Behind said door was concealed a fairly fru-fru bong, which the door and the wind conspired to smash. I have to assume it belongs to the hooligan lads who live upstairs, who are (maybe) sixteen and (presumably) concerned with hiding such things from their mother. I'm not sure if I should tell the mom; I don't want to interfere with another family, but then I don't want our landlord finding it and assuming it's mine. (I have long hair and a goatee; therefore, it is assumed I am hot for the ganj.) I imagine I'll just clean up the glass tomorrow, and let the lads build a new bong out of a dried apple, like kids are supposed to.
K. missed the snow this weekend, as she was in Madison for CAMWS. I took the opportunity last night to pan-broil an inch-thick steak, slather it with grilled onions, accompany it with steak fries and a Gibson's root beer, and watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (which I'd managed never to see, despite projecting it for some large number of weeks). Sometimes it's nice to have a dinner of testosteroni.
