hohner

Today I biked down to Meagan's. If you've ever rode down Appleby, you understand that it's a vicious experience, hectic also, because it's all so quickly moving and downhill. So as I was speeding down, the ruckus of the road resulted in having to steer up onto a curb without breaking, which then caused my bicyclette to get a little bit ill. A head ache.

At Meg's, we watched Match Point which was actually quite ridiculous but I just decided a half hour ago that I like it. It's about a man that recently moved to London to teach tennis. He teaches a man, and ends up enjoying the company of this man's sister (I forget all of their names, so bare with me). So it's the main guy, teaching a man, where the main guy enjoys the man's sister. Later, the man meets a woman, my woman, Scarlet Johanson - frig, here's the synopsis.

I've come to the conclusion that I love all Scarlet movies. Love ya Scar.

After Meg's, I rode to Steph's thinking I'd just stop by for a little to say good bye before my trip up north, but instead we hung out for a little bit and since I had my bike, we went for a ride around in the rain with Mack down to Deerhurst. We found collectibles, and I got sprayed in the face with a wet collection of hanging leaves. Cool!

Mack had a work situation to attend to, so Steph and I bathed in nostalgia on Deerhurst for a good 20 minutes. These are our old houses. This is where we grew up, and became who we are today. This is where I can forever call home:

My bicycle developed Alzheimer's or Aspergers or probably both, meaning the chain came off, which was A.O.K. with me, surprisingly, because Steph and I vomited memories throughout the walk of shame back home, although, no shame, just reminiscence. Beanie babies and baby sitters and sleep overs and grass forts and the sort. When we returned to her place, we went to Jack Aster's, Asstors, Assturds, I really don't know anymore, for dinner. I got this vile curry dish so I made Steph trade me for her chicken and spaghetti. Was anyone else aware of J.A's thai food availabilities? No, didn't think so. Steph and I went back to her place, then decided to go to Christian's for a little.

"I captured an African." 7/3/09

Oh P.S. The "other" word for a harmonica is a "hohner." Check out these ridiculous instructions that she lent me for the scanning purposes. I highly recommend reading all directions in order to fulfill your hohner needs, and to pee yourself: