I have 2 dim son's

Wow…just, wow. This'll be a little random. Deal.

Dim sum brunches for buddies on Sunday was great. (Even though I selfishly monopolized the shark fin dumplings and Chinese broccoli) Peking Garden now has the distinction of being one of the most diverse brunch crowds I’ve ever seen. Dora and I talked about seeing African American, Indian, Chinese, and interracial families all frassin’ over the carts and enjoying the hell outta breakfast. (Honey, you should have got a bun. You know you wanted it. I know you're kicking yourself, but you know you would’ve got the "magic bun" with the squishy octopus surprise center.) If we go back it’ll be a big struggle to decide on tripe vs. pig intestine stir fry. They could just call it "Hot Dog" stir fry so as to not frass the new customers.

The restaurant had these big ol' fish tanks lining the wall, and they were filled with ginormous crabs, lobster, and eel. One eel was in this weird sun worshippy pose, prompting Adam to say: "Maybe it has an eel-rection"? Heh. And you people think I say some weird shit*? ( He’s a keeper, Melinite. Sorry that Mo and I speak a different language when we’re out in public.) And seriously, where is Mr.Eel’s schwantzengruber? Do they even have one? Is this even a blog-worthy stream of consciousness? And why is it I want to say "Eel Pout" in lieu of just saying "Eel"? I mean it isn’t like they are super unhappy about anything.

"Hey Eel."
"Hey baby P"
"You okay eel? You look kinda down."
"Oh, you know…usual stuff. Had a bad day at work yesterday"
"That’s too bad, eel. Cheer up, okay?"

Do you ever feel so weird that you sometimes weird yourself out? Maybe I’m getting weird because I’m getting older. Weird…Old. Wold? Mr. Wold was the other 2nd grade teacher at my elementary school. After "desk cleaning" day, he was doing desk check and went up to a kids desk that wasn’t clean. (He did the 2nd grade version of "defying the man" and didn’t clean out his desk. Anyway, Mr. W grabbed a corner of his desk and turned it upside down…spilling the contents all over the floor. (He was a big guy) Well, that’s really all the scandal one can find when one is 8 years old, but you bet your bippy that news traveled to Ms. K’s class toute suite. Think about shite like that happening nowadays? It wouldn’t.


Say hello to ADHD.

Sunday afternoon was manual labor at Ma and Pa’s. Get this, I was so exhausted by the end of the day I was actually nauseous. After naplets for buddies, and some nibbles as a pick me up, I headed over to Kaiser’s to watch people play poker. That’s right. I engaged in the most boring activity one can engage in. (For me anyway. But I’m pretty transparent when it comes to my dislike of cards. I liked the hanging out with buddies aspect. The actual threat of cards bores me) And I especially liked the fact that Mopes won some $ on the $10 I gave her for buy in. I didn’t like the fact that I hovered over my leftover cheese plate and annoyed the crap outta people by trying to get them to nibble. Then just ate the cheese all by myself. B/c I’m a nibbler. Say it with me: "Be a nibbler" (The frickin’ brie was so frassin’ good though)