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



Pencil Case is a funny boy. Today during lunch, I was sitting in the library, hanging out with Van Chelsing, and Pencil Case comes up to me: "Kellinka! We have to go run errands. Now." Well, when Pencil Case asks you to go run errands, you go, because you know it is going to be a fun excursion. The first part of this excursion was not so fun, because it involved Schmidty. Yes, we had to go find out Pencil Case's schedule, pronounced the fancy way, for the musical. Since I can't sing and will never be more than a lowly crew-er, this did not pertain to me and was not very intersting. Plus, the gigantic framed cruxifiction picture on the wall sort of weirded me out, since I am, as Saint Julia tells me every time I mention I've never been to confession and missed my own first reconciliation, A Bad Catholic.

Then we went to find Madame. When I asked Pencil Case why we had to find Madame, he goes, "To talk to her." I asked what we would talk to her about, and he explained that she had four gigantic scoops of mashed potatoes for lunch. Yes, apparently this is a good reason to go have a little chat with her. Actually, every reason is a good reason, but anyway, Madame was not in her room, so Pencil Case decided we would spy on the teachers' lounge. See, they are very antsy about kids in the general vicinity of the teachers' lounge, and I said I wouldn't because I didn't want to get caught, which would involve punishment such as impalement or something equally horrid, like detention. Pencil Case said he would and that he would eat his own head if he was caught. Then, he pokes his head in the doorway and whisper-shouts "MADAME!" Then Madame comes out of the teachers' lounge and asks what we want. We said we just wanted to talk to her.

Pencil Case: Why did you have four scoops of mashed potatoes for lunch today?
Madame: Well, I made a roast last night, and I was going to bring it in for myself and my colleagues, like Frau, today. But then my husband's best friend came over, opens the fridge, and says, "What's for dinner?" and eats about half of my roast.
Me, evilly: Why didn't you just kick him out?
Madame: Because he's like family, I guess.
Me: Oh, come on! We kick family members out of our house all the time.

We also talked about why the musical is such a big deal whether Pencil Case thinks it is or not, how Pencil Case and I are both going to be famous, and Madame's dead pet giraffe that never actually existed. Also, Toe Touches came by and goes, to Madame, "Don't we have such nice freshmen?", but he quickly left the discussion because he just doesn't get the Madame-Kellinka-Pencil Case bond. Madame doesn't understand why Pencil Case and I find her so fascinating, but our lives are rather boring, so the most entertaining part of our day is definitely French class, which comes along with all the random and crazy things she tends to say, like her explanation for her four scoops of mashed potatoes, which Pencil Case says "were swimming in gravy." Yes, swimming.

We took this sex/drugs/alcohol/whatever survey today. It was rather boring. I think that I will pop a capillary vein if I have to answer one more question, "I have never drank alcohol/smoked a cigarette/smoked marijuana/had sex/done cocaine/done 'club drugs'/you get the idea." The roast was a lot more interesting. Hell, even the cruxifiction poster in Schmidty's office was a lot more interesting.

I think I found my forensics monologue, though, and that is happy. I might do a portion of David Sedaris' essay Jesus Shaves, which is one of the funniest things I have read in my entire life, except for... well, anything else by David Sedaris. That man is quite simply a genius. Except not as much of a genius as the combined epic genius of myself and Van Chelsing.


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