After a bit of barbecue genius from Quix, we watched a couple of movies and set off some really fantastic fireworks. After the celebration of course, there comes the choice tidbits of conversation. starlightgloom surprised us tonight with a few choice words of her own brand of wisdom.
jungfroid: You just like saying “up the butt.”
praxisloki: Heh, whatever.
starlightgloom: Girls can control that, you know?
praxisloki: …
quix: …
jungfroid: …
thepinklamb: …
I don’t know what it is, but if I’m in a CVS or a Staples or any sort of office supply store–I have to check the writing implements. I’m drawn to them. I won’t use I don’t know why I have to look, but I always feel that maybe there might be something new. Something I haven’t written with yet. I like writing, the act of putting pen to paper. However, the act must be consummated with a specific feel of pen. I can trace this back to when my father gave me a cross pen in grade school with my name engraved on it. I remember losing it.
After I graduated from high school, my father gave me a set of green marble and gold parkers that I absolutely loved. They were heavy, solid. The pen’s presence was defined by weight. The pens I write with nowadays feel like they’re going to fly out of my hand. I still have the set of three. One ball point, one pencil, and one fountain. They’re in retirement right now, but I still take them out of their case (a hard leather affair) when I need them. Usually for correspondence of some sort.
So, I’m picky. I have several boxes of the Better Retractable Pen from Pilot. All fine point. Pilot also makes a series of Gel Ink pens that I enjoy–but only in Extra Fine point. Fine and Extra fine–I can’t write with anything larger than that. Medium point makes me feel like I’m holding a melting stick of butter and trying to write into molasses.
With a fine point, there’s the actual feeling that you’re inscribing something. Etching an indelible trough into the paper, in addition to placing ink there. Rough, curt strokes are possible with a fine point that you just can’t do with a medium point.
And the ink can’t be too watery.
Go Korea!! I’m rooting for whoever she’s rooting for. I can’t read the rest of the text–but I’m assuming she’s some sort of model or celebrity. If anybody knows who she is–just drop me a line. I’m sure that everyone else wants to know, too.
It’s amazing what science can discover nowadays. I can already see the discussions. “Honey, it’s time for your medication.” And thusly, thousands of men were slapped instantaneously.
The PE course I should have had in high school. It’s unfair, I tell you. I would have rocked this course. I may have even taken PE both required semesters instead of waiving the last one for academic pursuits.
Years ago, my father warned me that he has an allergy to alcohol.
I, naturally, ignored this warning and blissfully went on my merry way.
This weekend, I believe I found a beverage I’m allergic to. The liquid in question is the fair amber Corona. Upon ingestion of said brew, I begin to experience palpitations, an increased heart rate, and shortness of breath. Well, at least I know. Nisa thinks its probably an ingredient in the beverage, perhaps the formaldehyde (or something) that they use during the brewing process.
Whatever it is, I’m not drinking it again. Not that it’s vile or anything.
It was nice, but not that nice.