"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


Blogger = Bugger. Again.

Ha ha, it did post during French, when we scammed the Mr. NDA ballots (and by "we" I mean Madame) and talked too much. Hahaha, so we got our pick-3 ballots for Mr. NDA, which was highly amusing because Madame was so determined to get all of her students on there, and even went so far as to say, "If you don't know who these boys are, just come over here and I'll help you pick." Then she did not realize Paul was on the ballot ("Paul! My god! Paul!") and so she went and made sure a large percentage of the class had circled his name.

I am totally working the bake sale on Friday morning and Maggie and Chelsea better work it too, lest I hurt them. So, anyway, I've turned in my slip for the drawing to be an escort for the Mr. NDA pageant. There is talk of it going co-ed next year, which I think is extremely stupid. First of all, when you bring girls into it, it will just become a popularity contest, and, also, what the hell are you going to call it? Mr. or Ms. NDA? NDA Individual? Come on.

The backs of our volleyball T-shirts say "SPIKE 'EM". Erik and I agree this is terribly, terribly sexual. It looks like it's going to rain, which sucks because I have Powder Puff. Grrrr.


Post a Comment

<< Home