Alright, I'm lifting this from the Board, because I have to agree with habiba, it's the best stick-it-to-the-man story I've heard since School of Rock.
Scottsdale Community College, back in 1970, infuriated the student body by stripping its government of its control over school finances. Instead, precious funds were reassigned to bulking up a monstrous athletic program. In retaliation, the disgusted student body voted, and the SCC mascot was from that time forth the "Artichokes."
Aw yeah.
Speaking of jocks with an inflated sense of self-importance, my sisters and I watched Disney's Beauty and the Beast last night. What a classic! "It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she'll start getting ideas... thinking..."
Okay, just because I simultaneously discovered how to navigate YouTube and how to embed videos does not mean this is going to become a "look what I found on YouTube!" blog. Well, maybe it must become that for a time. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I just have to share this. Our family has a functioning R2-D2 replica, a motion-activated light saber that vibrates, and an encyclopedia of all things Star Wars. Tamara told us proudly that she discusses the finer points of Jaba's entourage on the bus home from school. We are big time losers in this house.
Pretty accurate, huh? Remember kids, don't talk back to Darth Vader, he'll getcha!
Tamara showed me this spoof video a few minutes ago. Some kids at LPHS made it. Yeah, there's not much to do here sometimes.
Things I found immensely amusing: the Heimlich maneuver, the heart-shaped legs, the flower hat, the state of that boy's bedroom. I would have at least made my bed.
Received a reception? How am I an English major? I'm ashamed...
Incidentally, I always say the phrase "I'm ashamed..." with an accent. What accent, you inquire? The accent of the little "house detective" in the old Streisand/O'Neal film, "What's up, Doc?"
"Never heard of it?" Well, educate yourself.
Start at 1:55, and watch to 2:30. Or find yourself the entire film. It's hilarious, brilliantly staged and edited. The script is sidesplitting... Oh boy.
I've been a little homesick for London. I miss that alternate universe! Sometimes it seems like it was all a wonderful dream...
Anyway, enough with the sentimental nonsense. Two summers ago, I lived in Quito, Ecuador for three months. While there, I got to experience fresh "exotic" fruit firsthand. I introduced my pallet to a lot of new produce, and some received a warmer reception than others. My favorite new fruit, hands down, was the grenadilla, or the "grenade" as we gringas chose to call it. While in the little village of Hampstead, on the outskirts of north London, I ran across an exotic fruit store that displayed out front, you'll never guess, grenadillas. These are so extraordinary, and there they were in Hampstead Heath! So of course, I had to buy one, and Rebecca and Kate each bought one too because, well, why not? Here's a picture of what this sweet little gem looks like: Mmmm, right? I know, I know, it looks disgusting. The fruit looks like an orange grenade. The shell is pretty stiff, and sounds hollow when you thump your finger against it. Then break it open, and whoa! "What is this?" In Ecuador, we affectionately called the seed sacs "monkey brains," or "mocos" ("snot" in Spanish). You just have to go for it. You slurp out about, mmm, 10 sacs, and swish 'em around, break all the lining, get the sweet, sweet juice, and spit the seeds. Or swallow if you want. Makes for interesting bathroom experiences later. Here's a photo of moi enjoying my grenadilla inglesa on a park bench. Ay, !que rica fue!
Aw yeah.
Oh Gaston, what a cootie...
