Saturday, October 30, 2010

Hooray for boobies

I got a new roommate this week. His parents came with him to help him move his stuff in. I helped too. When we finished unloading everything, we went to get some lunch.

His mom was wearing a Chicago t-shirt. As we were finishing eating, I looked over and noticed that something had dripped onto her chest.

Me: Um. You've got something on your . . . Chicago, there.

She wiped it off.

My Roommate: Why are you staring at my mom's boobs?

Me: What do you want from me? She's hot, okay?

Roommate's Dad: Did you see how fast she wiped it up? She didn't even give me a chance to lick if off.

I think this roommate situation is going to work out alright.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

You're a superstar, at the gay bar

The other day I was in the lab working when one of the undergraduate researchers came in to do some bench work. He set up his laptop, and started playing music from his itunes library. Most of it was show tunes.

I texted a friend about it, lamenting the fact that I'd forgotten to bring in my iPod that day.

My friend texted this back: Punch him in his gay little ball sack - noone should have to put up with that shit.

He's right. But luckily for that undergraduate, he'd finished his work and left by the time I'd received my instructions.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

We won't be sleepin' in our Autumn beds

Oh, nothing. Just been out enjoying Fall. Again.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Ten second news

I have a friend who just published a fairly high profile paper. He's had a few different reporters request interviews with him about it. I dropped by his office the other day to say hi, and he was waiting for one of these reporters to arrive. He and I chatted for a few minutes, then the reporter and cameraman showed up.

I got up to leave. The cameraman said, "We don't want to run you off. Go ahead and have a seat."

"That's okay. I should probably get back to work anyway."

My friend at least took the time to introduce me to the cameraman and the reporter*.

She shook my hand and said, "It's nice to meet you. You know, for some reason you look really familiar to me. Have we met before?"

I shook my head no and said, "It's probably just because I look like Bill Clinton," then I walked out the door.

Let her report about meeting Bill Clinton's love child.

*She was hot, by the way. I should've stuck around for the interview.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Now the beaver once slept for seven days and gave us all an awful fright, so I tickled his chin and gave him a pinch and the bastard tried to bite

On my way to Vegas last weekend I stopped for gas and saw a bumper sticker that I couldn't NOT buy right then and there. It said: I ♥ BEAVER.

I called my sister afterward and told her what I'd found. She requested that I go back right then and buy ten more. I was already getting back on the freeway, so I told her I'd stop again and buy her some on my way home. I did. But I only gave her five. The other five I sent to friends who would display it proudly.

One of my friends received it today at work. He texted me and said he'd buy me something if I displayed it on my car right next to my parking sticker. Presumably so the ultra-conservative university parking enforcement would see it every time they checked.

I texted him back and said they don't even issue parking permits anymore. They just scan license plates now, so I put it on my refrigerator instead.

Our text conversation continued:

Him: So you like your beaver on the fridge?

Me: I like it anywhere I can get it.

Him: So you're easy.

Me: And cheap. Spread the word. Particularly to any hot chicks.

Him: Being easy rarely works for hot chicks.

Him: Get ready for ugly chicks!

Damn! He's right. Lower standards, here I come.

Monday, October 11, 2010

See our friends, see the sights, feel alright

I went to Vegas this weekend. I didn't tell any of my friends I was coming. I just surprised them.

When I saw Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend, she grabbed my arm and said, "I really have missed you."

I said, "Really? I've mostly just missed your boobs."

She shook her head and said, "You're a dork."

This is why I'm single.

Thursday, October 07, 2010

Girls, all I really want is girls

The other night I stopped at a friend's house on my way home from meeting a couple of other friends for dinner. The following is from a conversation I had with his seven year old daughter:

Her: Why do you like Asian girls?

Me: What's not to like?

Her: Do you like Mexican girls too?

Me: As a matter of fact, I do. I don't discriminate. I like all* girls.

*Except for maybe the fat ones.