Lisa b got me addicted to finding out my 8th grade science score because I wanted to have Jeff Foxworthy hosting my brain matter while I use all my powers to resist the incredible urges to smack some lil' snot and pimple faced know-it-alls around.
But I scored a C - a 73% which incidentally was way better than my real life grade eight science score (or so I imagine - Dad, I'm sure you could confirm this for me).
Anyhow, I wanted to see if I concentrated super hard, didn't rush, and actually read the question and all the answers - AND I kicked butt.
Now I'm composing an email to Sister Mary Margaret to have my school records updated.
Because just maybe, oh maybe - this will be the thing that will just help me get into Harvard Law and show them all that I'm not a complete bimbo!
I'll show that silly ex Warner that my lifestyle isn't frivolous and might have been potentially detrimental to his political ambitions.
Oh wait, I've once again confused my life with that of a movie I saw when trapped in a small space.
In this case, the small space was an airplane (not to be confused with all the plethora of small spaces I've had the pleasure of being crammed in for either hiding or transportation purposes). I think that was the inflight movie when I was travelling to Dallas and because I flew there a bunch of times within a six week period, I had the torturous pleasure of seeing it three, possibly four times. Of course, it only happened once with audio for the entire duration. But still, I was surrounded by Elle and her aura.
Actually it was an okay movie but that is neither here nor there. There are only a few movies I can watch repeatedly - especially in a small space of time: Goodfellas, Surburbia, Ciao Manhattan, and Starship Troopers to name a few. Everyone has a couple, don't they? Kinda like a "if I was stranded on a deserted island" kinda list.
But I'm getting off topic.
What was my topic again? Oh riiiiiiight, I didn't really have one.
So did I mention I also took a quiz to figure out the odds that I'd eat my friends if caught in a blizzard? And I surprised myself by scoring only a 37%.
This surprised me because I usually size everyone up and have the "weak versus the strongest debate" at sighting of first snow flake. You know, because I like to be prepared.
Anyhow, it's Sunday night, I've still got a rotten cold that has left me with a voice so husky, I sound like a future Britney Spears if she never gives up smoking and looks like this. Sexy, n'est pas?
And I've obviously taken too much NyQuil. Hey remember Denis Leary's all-around-offensive Cure for Cancer album with the bit about Sonny and Claus von Bulow and NyQuil (wussy warning: nsfw - lots of f-bombs). That bit makes me laugh every single time. Yeah, NyQuil is trippy man.
I think I should stop this post right about now.