Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Wawawewa

So I had my first solo (without a trainer) day at the Police division I volunteer at. Determined not to do anything stupid, I made myself somewhat obnoxious by second guessing myself constantly. I filled several collision reports, and mostly just puttered around. The constables were all very helpful and keen to assist me in whatever.
Now enter my big mouth.
One of the constables brought an energy sports type powder. He insists it's "crazy-good", going so far as to show that you should not shake the mixture, since it may lead to "dire consequences". I, in a show of brilliance, dismissed it all as a placebo effect. The constable bridled (in mock indignation) saying I wouldn't be saying that if I had tried it. Thus the inevitable occured. It was green, frothy and tasted like pixie sticks in coke. I think I might pick up a batch. It certainly carried out the promise of helping me with my energy. I felt like I could chew through a desk.
I have earned the title of "most hard-core volunteer". This makes me strangely pleased.

I also submit for your enjoyment, some of the random thoughts that floated through my sleepy brain during my patrol, after I had crashed off the powder.

Imagine Robin Williams. Now imagine him as a kid. Put him in a classroom. Have his teacher call him, "Robin". Weird, isn't it? Now put him in the DMV and have someone call him, "Mr. Williams". That's pretty weird too, isn't it? There are just some celebrities that you must know them by their full name. If you say, "Ah-nold", everyone knows who you are talking about, but to call Anthony Hopkins, "Anthony", feels a little racy, doesn't it?

If they can make Shrek look this realistic, why do those screen-saver fish still look like pieces of food left-over after I've washed the dishes?

Have you ever bitten into some chocolate that you thought was solid, but found something gooey, and had to desperatly hope that it was something disgusting? What if it was something gross? Would you spit it out? That's a terrible feeling, isn't it? It's like winning the lottery for the grand prize of a phone bill.

I hate tires. I really do. No matter where you go, at least four big points of contact are on the ground at all times. I think it's time for another paradigm shift. I'm hoping for ponies again.

Lots of Love
Michelle

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I actually have an *aunt* Robin, who was indeed a Williams until she got married. How awkward was THAT, I ask you.

(Pretty awkward.)

Miss Ernst said...

Was she really hairy?