More Flea Market Madness

As I mentioned in the previous post, a bunch of us from my Spanish class went to a flea market a few days ago.

There were all sorts of ridiculous things for sale. David found this wrestler mask that was too small for his hair to fit in it.


I don't even think Steve (left) can see out of that one.




Cole constructed crude visual innuendos with food, garbage and flea market toys.


And Steve... did this.


But Joey bought the most awesome thing in the flea market:



The thing is made awfully flimsily for something that people are going to drop. The screen is now cracked.

Gotta Catch 'Em All!

Steve, Joey and I, as well as all the other Spanish 3 and 4 students at our school, went to a flea market the other day.

And, as usual, I saw something weird and just had to take pictures of it.


It's one of those temporary tattoo machines! Hell yes!


So, of course I bought one.


Victory was mine! For only fifty measly cents, I'd purchased a tattoo of the single most awesome children's cartoon nonsense ever!


So the next day in Spanish class, I picked a spot with little enough hair that the tattoo would stick.


I hastily stuck it to my belly with a wet napkin, but soon realised that I'd forgotten to read the directions before I stuck it to myself.

Was it 30 seconds or 30 minutes?

Whew! It was 30 seconds. And just look at that beauty!


Actually, I've never even heard of a Pokemon called Carnivine. What happened to good old Pikachu and Squirtle?


Screw you, Carnivinegay!

Vandalism is even better when it's on a person rather than a thing.


Quote Time
[Mr. Katz, a psychotic substitute teacher at my school, started yelling something toward my lunch table]
Mr. Katz: [incoherent babble] [something that sounds like "gonorrhoea"] [incoherent babble]
Me: What? Who has gonorrhoea?
Mr. Katz: You have gonorrhoea? Congratulations! [starts clapping] Join the club!
Me: [blank stare]

It should be noted that people usually only say "join the club" if they themselves are in "the club."

new profile thumbnails:

Girly Jacket and Muffins

Oh, how I love Spanish class!

My shenanigans are at their height in third period.

This picture reminds me of my friend Courtney. She's a wild one, she is. I bought her the above jacket on the promise that she'd pay me back. I did get my money back, but not before bugging her about it for weeks.


Classic bumper sticker for an atheist. Atheists, unite!

Anyway, I'm terribly off-topic. This post was originally supposed to be about the taste testing of new foods at my school. The food at my school is notoriously horrible. I guess somebody finally realised this and decided to get new food. They picked at random a few dozen people from various classes and called them into a room to taste the new stuff. Joey was one of them.

When he got back to Spanish, Joey's pockets were bulging with food. He produced several muffins, which Steve and I devoured ravenously.

[Steve and I finish our muffins.]
Joey: Man, the pizza was pretty good, too.
Me: What? You brought us muffins when there was pizza?
Joey: Erm... yes.
Steve: Muffins rather than pizza? Really?
Joey: Yeah.
Me: Dude, Joey, pizza trumps muffins by a long shot.
Joey: But... I like muffins.

The Name Game

Since I scored in the 98th percentile on the PSAT, every private college in the god-damned universe wants to sent me their pamphlet.

But apparently the "O" in "Robert" wasn't clear enough on the test form.


Every private college in the god-damned universe now thinks I'm Rbert.




Then there are cases where you just have to go "What the fuck?"

"Cainzos" looks nothing like "Cavazos."

Quote of the Day

I have a photogenic memory.
-Stephen B

Well, dear readers, the blog is back. Relish it. Revel in it. Rejoice for it. Just like the ones that come daily to stare and point. Speaking of which, if you live in the area, go see the play that Jake and I are in on March 27th, The Insanity of Mary Girard. We perform in the Randolph HS auditorium at 7pm.