The guys were totally left alone to eat donuts and drink 7-up and peach juice. And draw comics. And generally run amok. An entire box (large) of timbits was consumed. Inhaled perhaps. And then cartooned, which will later be photographed.
Orlando Bloom came. No really. Except he had way too long of hair. Maybe it wasn’t Orlando Bloom after all.
“Hey, it’s chocolate time.”
“I really wanted to try that donut.”
“No, it looks disgusting. I think I would feel ill for the rest of the day.”
“Is that like bread or?”
“What? What are you looking at?”
“It makes sense.”
Except it doesn’t.
They should invent like half a penny so when you go to pay for gas you can pay like 195.5 cents per litre because otherwise they round up. It’s like $1.96 per litre. Oh, wait. It’s $1.95 ½ per litre but they charge you $1.96.
What’s up with that?
The boys resume insulting J. Beebs. Their snacks and money have run out…
“I think I’m at a loss for words right now. The paperclip is looking at me with his big eyes,” says not-intended-to-be-eaten.
“Oh my gosh, the paperclip is alive. What does it do?” says Bartholomew.
“It’s creepy.”
“See, I told you! It is alive! And look-it, its eyebrows go up, then to the right, then to the left.”
“There I made you a little concoction,” smiled P.O.M. (which had nothing to do with the paperclip but was certainly a little alarming)
“Okay, um, what was I talking about? Right. I’m not saying anything anymore until you stop typing.”
You got to write it down though. (that was really bad writing) Okay, fine. I’m (I can’t say my name but you know who I am) and I’m married to Taylor Lautner. I refuse to acknowledge that I said this. “You kind of did,” says P.O.M. I continue to refuse to acknowledge this.
“Why’d you have to bring that up again, POM?”
“We should just change the subject,” says Marshmelon. “Like to Harry Potter.”
Except now everyone is talking about caps and dancing and people standing around for like two hours.
“Hey there,” says P.O.M. “What? Are you mad at me?”
Oh my god, I know, right? (that sounded better in person, you have to imagine the voice)
“Then someone came by and took it and then…” well, it got to be too much to type. Sorry.
While we were typing, Kaiba apparently robbed Marshmelon of all his money and now he’s poor and…not-intended-to-be-eaten got carried away with the story. It involves some kind of random shooting and a woman named Mildred and a cat and not Bob. Or Joseph or something. It was definitely something. And a creepy vampire and a random tiger. Because nothing is complete without a random tiger.
And now, our word of the day. Which is “derstiv.” Look it up, people!
Signed: when books go bad
P.S. This post is dedicated to Mr. Henry Schmuawfulofagus, who has learned the art of being in more than one place at a time and who possibly attended this meeting, we’re not 100% sure.
Henry also learnt the art of small talk this weekend. It’s amazing! Being able to continue a conversation with someone but not actually caring what comes out of either of your mouths.
PS. Things not to say (or do) while working at Canadian Tire but have been said (or done) because when I am cold from the door and rushed my tongue doesn’t work right (or my mind).
1. (Speaking to a young man possibly a few years older than Henry.) Would you LOVE a bag?
2. Can you get that cart? (Pointing to the exit.)
Sure. (Walks outside to get the reflection of the cart that was actually inside.)
3. We’re having a survey for the next while. It’s either online or by phone. There is no limit to the amount of times you can enter, but every entry gives you the chance to win a $1000 cash prize or an iPod. We really wouldn’t want you to do it though.
4. _________(Name is blanked out for her sake.) Can you come get my garbage it’s full.
Okay, but you have a customer.
Oops! Sorry about that. Would you like your purchase in the garbage?
(Little Children Shield Your Eyes)
5. I can get this Christmas tree together. Josh (Aka Henry) can you help me? (That was the same girl as in the cart incident.)
Okay. (After trying to get the top of the tree into the second part.) It won’t go in. I think this plastic piece is too big to fit into the hole of this piece.
_________! (Our supervisor this time. It’s the girl that’s speaking.) Are you good at getting big things into little holes?
(Supervisor won’t stop laughing. She is with a customer. Talk about horrible customer service.)