Wherein Rob Has Tawdry Times With Baked Crackers

Once again, I am behind schedule. I even stopped studying early (well, at like 8:30) to come home and start on this so that I could go home, get this done, get some sleep, and then get up tomorrow to make it to the gym. (Before Novemblog, I was making it about 3 times a week (okay, fine, that was for like the month preceding Novemblog), but since it started? I've made it maybe 3 times total. That's even being super generous.) Then, well... I started looking at funny pictures on the Internet. Some of them were quite impressive.

This one, for example. Partly due to puppies.

But, well, then I looked at the time, and I figured that it was time to get down to business. You know, really pound this one out in a hurry so I can get up tomorrow and wander out in the cold to the gym, because who ever heard of locker rooms? Not this guy. This guy can walk. This guy can run. Well, once he gets to the gym. If he's running outside, then people for miles will be wondering, "My god, what is that jiggling mass? Is... is that attached to a man? Someone should warn him that he has some sort of red colored porous tumor coming out of his behind! Oh. It is his behind? Why didn't he make it to the gym? How could he let himself go like that? I would blame his parents, but no parent would want such a fate for their child. My god. It's- it's so hypnotic. I just can't stop staring at it, even though I should be keeping my eyes on the roa-," and that, kids, is why South Carolina doesn't have a problem procuring organ donations.

That ass. Which ass is it? Well, you decide, America.

So, yeah. It's time to write. But Rob is also incredibly hungry. Well, not starvingly so, but just enough to make it quite naggingly inconvenient. As such, siiiigh, I'd better feed that ass, because otherwise I'm going to feel all kinds of weird when I work out tomorrow (since that's totally happening and there's no conceivable way that I might sleep through the alarum bell).

Well, it took some deliberation, some swallowing of guilt, and an all-out brawl between Id and Super-Ego (Super-Id was the referee, and Id came out on top, despite a last minute tag-in of Ego. It was truly a fight for the ages), a decision was reached. And since Rob can be just the worst at pairings, we're looking at a mug of cocoa/hot chocolate (neither one is a particularly appealing name, so take your pick) and a plate of Cheez-Its. Not just any Cheez-Its, though- we're talking Sharp Cheddar AND Parmasean in a mix box, so the little cheese dust starts to intermingle betwixt the two. It's quite delicious. And warm, which is important, given that I'm typing this up from the safety of my own room. I figure I can count on no small animals or snakes trying to live here during the winter. If they did, though, we'd be looking at some straight up Milo and Otis shit. Well, maybe we'd do it without the ambiguously depressing ending.

Thanks for ruining childhood memories, brain.

Well, okay. I take that back. Apparently, because I have not seen Milo and Otis in a very long time, I had forgotten that, no, the ending is apparently not all that depressing and is in fact quite happy (if you ignore the fact that Otis is fighting against BEARS (but he wins, of course, because he's awesome. There's probably some sort of political allegory about Japan and the rest of the world that could ruin things all over again, just like the allegations of animal cruelty in the making of the movie, which is why we're just going to put an end to that train of thought right now with another adorable picture).

I can always feel a "DAWWW" coming on in the eyebrows.

Don't even act like you don't think that's cute. I don't care what your opinion is of pugs or of cats. This picture has an adorably fuzzy dog and an adorably inquisitive cat looking at an egg. An egg! Dogs and cats don't lay eggs. (Then again, this IS a Japanese movie we're talking about. Also, these Cheez-Its are like a more mature version of my old high school's sweet potatoes. If memory serves, the phrase I used was, "It's like Heaven's hot older sister making sweet love to your taste buds." Seriously. Those things and the wings. They were delicious. I never understood what people had against cafeteria food. It was delicious, and if Doctor Who is to be believed, includes oils that will make you much smarter.)

Possibly involving this guy, who can't possibly be evil, because he's Giles. And a headmaster. You know, like Dumbledore, who we all know was just the paragon of goodness and openness and smart decisions.

Seriously, guys. These Cheez Its. I remember a party wherein I was having some beverages with White Cheddar Cheez Its. I enjoyed them SO thoroughly (that's right, stealth pun and/or bilingual bonus) that they were just going all over the place. I think some went on a dear friend of mine and the young man on whom she was hitting. It didn't work out, and I sometimes wonder if the allure of those White Cheddar Cheez Its as they seductively sprayed from my distended mouth (because, see, I was eating so many of them BECAUSE THEY ARE FRIGGIN DELICIOUS GUYS) wasn't to blame for the end of that relationship. Hey, I said I couldn't talk about MY exes. Other people's are fair game.

And now there are no more Cheez Its. I am reminded of what that one guy (it was me, okay, I admit it) said at Epcot upon buying a Guinness. "The only thing that can put a damper on my spirits is that at some point I will no longer have any Guinness." Truer words were never spoken. Thankfully, they also apply to Cheez Its, Americone Dream (the Stephen Colbert flavor from Ben and Jerry's. From Ben and Jerry? I don't know. I DON'T KNOW.), and a Walt Disney World Vacation (FULL CIRCLE).

That fanny pack was extremely useful, I'll have you know. It's hard to carry all those pamphlets in just pockets. Later that day, I would learn the infamous Get Warm Dance, and the dancing world was never safe again.

There's surely a moral in there somewhere, and it's probably not a good one. I mean, I guess, "Enjoy a lot of material things and then be sad that they're gone because you can't have them any more," is a better moral than, "Take candy from strangers in windowless vans. It's even got a sweet painting of a dragon on the side. Who doesn't like dragons? Not you. Besides, candy! Maybe he's even got a Twix. You know how much you love Twix. You couldn't eat them for a long time because of the braces and you wanting to follow the rules so they didn't break, but didn't you just want a Twix so badly? Then remember when you were living on your own and money was super tight, but you bought a box of like 8 of the Twix packages? And then you'd stave off eating one for as long as possible, but when you did, it was just SO GOOD. I think there was even some pelvic thrusting involved, and heaven knows you told that one friend you supposedly met that one time but now only really talk to a little bit on Facebook, anyway you know the one, but you told her about how good it was. You remember all that and how good those Twixes were? And now there's a free one right in front of you! There might even be a whole box of them in it for you!" Well, it's certainly shorter. Still, I don't think it's quite up there with, "Hey, man, you shouldn't call that girl ugly, because she might be really hot later in life, and how could you hope to have a chance with her at that point?" Well, the spirit of that one is what's important, I guess. Maybe not the actual content. Who writes these morals, anyway?

Because that's who you want writing about morals. Also, um, sorry, ladies, for posting this without your express permission. Knowing how pictures have been working on here, this probably won't show up anyway.

Also, if wordcounter.net is to be believed, I have somehow surpassed 2000 words tonight. Now, I can either stop writing like a bum and wash some dishes and crash, or I can give you a satisfying conclusion.

The original Goofus.

Hahaha, just kidding. See, wordcounter.net is in fact to be believed, but what with my loose morals and my astonishingly fatter face (well, maybe it's just the hairstyle), I managed to copy and paste the whole first part of this post over again. I knew there was a reason I didn't trust that 2510 word count. It made no sense. I mean, it's not THAT bad- I'm still in the mid-1400s, so I guess I'll have to meet Joan of Arc, get on the good side of the Inquisition AND the House of Lancaster, and hop on the boat to America so I can wait about 600 years to get back here and CONTINUE THIS VERY POST. Thankfully, I don't have too much to worry about in terms of the plague, so that's a bonus. Plus, Joan of Arc. Me-ow. And of course, everyone knows that nothing important was happening east of France or in the Southern or Western hemispheres until the Europeans civilized those places. It's quite a burden. But you don't have to take my word for it.

"You do, however, have to take mine."