When I left America to "learn french" in Quebec, one mental wall I had to break down (with the sort of mental sledgehammer I suppose we all develop,) was the fact that I was not the only one who moved on.
Moved on literally-- I moved to another country, then to another continent, so it was easy for me to mentally separate middle school from high school. I wasn't the only one who graduated (from 8th grade,) everyone else got that middle school diploma and went out to face many different high schools. I could ramble for paragraphs about how people have moved on in the "now I hate all of our old friends" or "now I think drugs are just okay" sort of way, what I'm talking about is how none of my Charter friends go to Charter any more.
It was weird to think about. What really bummed (and bums) me out is that there was no longer a way to see all of these people in one place. Many I knew I'd see again, but there's no way I could hunt down and spend time with each person individually, and there's also no way I would want to see everyone anyways. Lot of bad blood in those seedy 8th grade classrooms, ya know? Not really though.
And now it's happening again. With the passing of this year's 8th grade class there is really no students I know at the school any longer. When I went back to Charter after my year in Quebec I was surrounded by kids I was in choir, the play, band, basketball, etc. with. Now if I could make a journey, during school, the only people I'd know would be the teachers, and few of those who I actually knew still remain.
And then we have Quebec. I miss those guys. I met a lot of great people in Quebec, none of whom I'm good about keeping in touch with, and thanks to that alien Canadian school system, my class graduated this year. Congratulations to them, first of all, but since I had lots of acquaintances and few real friends there-- I was only there a year, after all-- it'd be hard to see everyone I would want to again. Because no one goes to QHS anymore, they're all in a manner of different CEGEPs or whatever you guys call 'em.
So, to all the acquaintances whom I've enjoyed meeting but never took the time to become friends with-- I'm sorry. We may never meet again, but I'll miss you.
-Will
"Can't repeat the past?…Why of course you can!"
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Another Round of Goodbyes
Okay, before I get started...
DA culture lesson 65: The Wailing Wall
This is the wall on one side of the outdoor basketball court where the seniors line up every year at the end of grad for final goodbyes. The "wailing" part should be pretty self-explanatory.
DA culture lesson 74: Departure
For some reason or another, 90% of DA parents, students, and teachers have left the country by the weekend two days after grad. Why everyone leaves this quickly is beyond me.
I was going to title this one "3/4ths of the Way Done," but when I thought about what I was actually going to say, I realized that really wouldn't have been fitting. Because even though all freshman year I was thinking "only 3 more years and I'll be in America," a my goal sophomore year was just to survive (which I did,) when I was reflecting on my first year as an upperclassmen, I saw that my perspective had changed. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted this year to end.
Don't get me wrong-- I was looking forward to Junior-hosted banquet to be over (which it is,) for my homework load to drop to "eat, sleep, video games" (which it has,) and for exams to go well. I haven't gotten my scores for them, so I can't comment on them. But saying goodbye to some staff, the seniors, and one graduating girl in particular has been and will be hard.
For instance, a math teacher who came when I did and has as rough or worse a transition. A history teacher who jumped of the roof with the guys and I for kicks. A french teacher who played Punch Out!! on his computer when we took tests. A gym teacher who almost got fired after dancing at a party she was supposed to be chaperoning. I've known these staff members ten times better than some of the people in my own class. What will the school be like without a few young teachers to stir the pot?
And then we have the seniors. I doubt I would have considered myself friends with anyone in the senior class at the end of last year, and here I am missing some of them already. What am I going to do without my fellow Bostonian Red Sox fan? Or my geek friend who I talk to about Zelda timelines with? Or any of my musical buddies? (Plus there's always my ex-wives and awkward make-up appliers.) Or my goofy, crazy bro? And don't even get me started on that girl. She needs a whole 'nother blog post.
Now I'm entirely sure I didn't want junior year to end. It was stressful at times, but in the end, I'd organize three more banquets to get another year with these guys. I'm going to miss you. I'll see ya when I see ya.
-Will
"Despite the fact that I'm not your teacher and I never was, this might be considered inappropriate. Rub my back right here."
DA culture lesson 65: The Wailing Wall
This is the wall on one side of the outdoor basketball court where the seniors line up every year at the end of grad for final goodbyes. The "wailing" part should be pretty self-explanatory.
DA culture lesson 74: Departure
For some reason or another, 90% of DA parents, students, and teachers have left the country by the weekend two days after grad. Why everyone leaves this quickly is beyond me.
I was going to title this one "3/4ths of the Way Done," but when I thought about what I was actually going to say, I realized that really wouldn't have been fitting. Because even though all freshman year I was thinking "only 3 more years and I'll be in America," a my goal sophomore year was just to survive (which I did,) when I was reflecting on my first year as an upperclassmen, I saw that my perspective had changed. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted this year to end.
Don't get me wrong-- I was looking forward to Junior-hosted banquet to be over (which it is,) for my homework load to drop to "eat, sleep, video games" (which it has,) and for exams to go well. I haven't gotten my scores for them, so I can't comment on them. But saying goodbye to some staff, the seniors, and one graduating girl in particular has been and will be hard.
For instance, a math teacher who came when I did and has as rough or worse a transition. A history teacher who jumped of the roof with the guys and I for kicks. A french teacher who played Punch Out!! on his computer when we took tests. A gym teacher who almost got fired after dancing at a party she was supposed to be chaperoning. I've known these staff members ten times better than some of the people in my own class. What will the school be like without a few young teachers to stir the pot?
And then we have the seniors. I doubt I would have considered myself friends with anyone in the senior class at the end of last year, and here I am missing some of them already. What am I going to do without my fellow Bostonian Red Sox fan? Or my geek friend who I talk to about Zelda timelines with? Or any of my musical buddies? (Plus there's always my ex-wives and awkward make-up appliers.) Or my goofy, crazy bro? And don't even get me started on that girl. She needs a whole 'nother blog post.
Now I'm entirely sure I didn't want junior year to end. It was stressful at times, but in the end, I'd organize three more banquets to get another year with these guys. I'm going to miss you. I'll see ya when I see ya.
-Will
"Despite the fact that I'm not your teacher and I never was, this might be considered inappropriate. Rub my back right here."
Monday, April 5, 2010
Spring Break 2010
So, school has started up again after a two week break and my brain has officially begun its rebuilding proccess. However, that isn't to say that I didn't learn anything over break.
I learned how to play Mexican train. I learned that the answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42, and that the secret to flying is throwing yourself at the ground and missing. I learned that my Halo skills have fallen considerably since the last Halo party. I learned that MagicTime, a Florida company who made a shipment to Dakar with for real peanut butter and (excellent) knockoff Lucky Charms, is the best company of all time.
I learned that sunscreen actually works, you just have to put it on first. Then I retested this lesson and proved it wrong. I learned that while the 5th Harry Potter book is the worst, the 5th Harry Potter movie rocks the casbah. From Dumbledore, I learned that a fiery head clap is a great way to make an exit. I learned that it's impossible to be good friends with someone of the opposite sex without everyone and their mother thinking you have ulterior motives. I learned that the defaults on Microsoft Word 2007 are awful. (I already knew this, but was reminded over break. If there's an option to automatically save backup copies of files, why isn't it automatically turned on? And has anyone, ever, for any reason intended to create a document with 11 point Calibri font with 10 point spacing after lines?!)
Most importantly I learned this: the only way to fully appreciate a lazy, relaxing vacation is having a school year that is crazy busy and maybe even, dare I say it, occasionally stressful. Junior year has been significantly more packed than my last two years of high school combined, and it only gets worse from here on out. Today went by minute by minute, but looking at my planner, I know that this quarter will be over the day after tomorrow. Add up a musical, lots of SAT prep, Junior-Senior Banquet, planning and asking someone to Junior-Senior banquet, finals, the Halo: Reach beta, a youth group retreat, goodbyes to Seniors, and of course the accelerated, end of the year, finish-the-textbook pace that all classes will now operate on, then you've got what I'd call a booked schedule.
Spring break was great. It was lazy, sure, and there were days where I did nothing but sit on my butt, play video games, and watch movies. But this time around, moreso than previous vacations, I felt like I'd earned it. Okay, maybe not the Jack Black movie, Office, and Harry Potter marathons. At least of of them though.
-Will
"I think I pulled a muscle in my upper neck!!"
I learned how to play Mexican train. I learned that the answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42, and that the secret to flying is throwing yourself at the ground and missing. I learned that my Halo skills have fallen considerably since the last Halo party. I learned that MagicTime, a Florida company who made a shipment to Dakar with for real peanut butter and (excellent) knockoff Lucky Charms, is the best company of all time.
I learned that sunscreen actually works, you just have to put it on first. Then I retested this lesson and proved it wrong. I learned that while the 5th Harry Potter book is the worst, the 5th Harry Potter movie rocks the casbah. From Dumbledore, I learned that a fiery head clap is a great way to make an exit. I learned that it's impossible to be good friends with someone of the opposite sex without everyone and their mother thinking you have ulterior motives. I learned that the defaults on Microsoft Word 2007 are awful. (I already knew this, but was reminded over break. If there's an option to automatically save backup copies of files, why isn't it automatically turned on? And has anyone, ever, for any reason intended to create a document with 11 point Calibri font with 10 point spacing after lines?!)
Most importantly I learned this: the only way to fully appreciate a lazy, relaxing vacation is having a school year that is crazy busy and maybe even, dare I say it, occasionally stressful. Junior year has been significantly more packed than my last two years of high school combined, and it only gets worse from here on out. Today went by minute by minute, but looking at my planner, I know that this quarter will be over the day after tomorrow. Add up a musical, lots of SAT prep, Junior-Senior Banquet, planning and asking someone to Junior-Senior banquet, finals, the Halo: Reach beta, a youth group retreat, goodbyes to Seniors, and of course the accelerated, end of the year, finish-the-textbook pace that all classes will now operate on, then you've got what I'd call a booked schedule.
Spring break was great. It was lazy, sure, and there were days where I did nothing but sit on my butt, play video games, and watch movies. But this time around, moreso than previous vacations, I felt like I'd earned it. Okay, maybe not the Jack Black movie, Office, and Harry Potter marathons. At least of of them though.
-Will
"I think I pulled a muscle in my upper neck!!"
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Care Package
I am sipping root beer right now. And now I'm just smelling it, letting the aroma of it waft into my nose like the smell of root beer wafting into one's nose. It is fantastic. How and why do I have root beer? Because I have awesome friends.
I came home at midnight tonight (it's spring break over here) expecting to go to bed after a long day of sitting on my butt and watching a Harry Potter movie marathon. Yet there was much unforeseen sipping of heavenly drinks to take place.
Carlen and Marina and Mrs. and Mr. Smoske are now on par with that awesome Ohio church that sends us Christmas presents every year. And Awesome Ohio Church, to me, is on a very high level. After a trip through the wonders of the African postal service, I got the care package they sent me. It was not only filled with a score of American lollipops, but with a dozen A&W root beers, a pair of sweet books, as well as what has potential to be the greatest movie of all time movie from Tim. It's pretty late, and I keep giving the characters in the comic book British accents- 14 hours of Harry Potter would do things to any man. Because of this, I'm going to stick with the food for now, but by golly it's swell.
All this to say one thing. Thank you. Very very very much. This was a fantastic day for it to arrive. It's hard to explain the feeling of receiving a dozen root beers by mail, and I will go out on a limb by saying that it's almost worth not being able to get root beer for said feeling. Not quite, but almost. Slices of home are really what keep me going, and you just served me like a pie of home. You know who you are. I love your pies. Thank you for them.
-Will
"This care package is friggin' awesome"
-Me, 30 seconds ago
I came home at midnight tonight (it's spring break over here) expecting to go to bed after a long day of sitting on my butt and watching a Harry Potter movie marathon. Yet there was much unforeseen sipping of heavenly drinks to take place.
Carlen and Marina and Mrs. and Mr. Smoske are now on par with that awesome Ohio church that sends us Christmas presents every year. And Awesome Ohio Church, to me, is on a very high level. After a trip through the wonders of the African postal service, I got the care package they sent me. It was not only filled with a score of American lollipops, but with a dozen A&W root beers, a pair of sweet books, as well as what has potential to be the greatest movie of all time movie from Tim. It's pretty late, and I keep giving the characters in the comic book British accents- 14 hours of Harry Potter would do things to any man. Because of this, I'm going to stick with the food for now, but by golly it's swell.
All this to say one thing. Thank you. Very very very much. This was a fantastic day for it to arrive. It's hard to explain the feeling of receiving a dozen root beers by mail, and I will go out on a limb by saying that it's almost worth not being able to get root beer for said feeling. Not quite, but almost. Slices of home are really what keep me going, and you just served me like a pie of home. You know who you are. I love your pies. Thank you for them.
-Will
"This care package is friggin' awesome"
-Me, 30 seconds ago
Monday, February 22, 2010
Senior Cafe
I am bummed. But not as bummed as I was last night. This weekend, among other things, was the weekend of Senior Cafe. At Dakar Academy, that roughly translates to "Annual Talent Show," which is put on by the seniors. Each year has a theme, last year's was space, this year's was "Night at the Library," etc. That sounds wicked lame on paper but somehow they made it pretty awesome. "Talent Show" isn't an exact translation though, because generally the winners are the crowd pleasers, not the ones with actual talent. If only that was the case this year.
Me and my bros Jon, Joe, and Lee had been panning our act since June of last year. Planning may be too strong a word, but suffice to say that by October we knew we were going to air band (like air guitar with the full ensemble) Boston's More than a Feeling. This is arguably the greatest air banding songs ever, as proven by Turk's Cool Cats in Scrubs.
So for the past week we got in practices around several sports and a play to work on our stage presence and killer moves to said tasty song, and on Friday night it was time to show the world what we were made of- air.
Looking back, our contrived costumes were both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Joe's inconceivably tight, borrowed-from-a-girl jeans got some major applause. On the other, juxtaposing 80's rock fashion onto a modern setting, and a library-themed one at that, meant that at best we looked like Napoleon Dynamite's older brother and at worst we looked like convicted sexual predators.
But when we got up on stage, and the lights turned on, I lost it. In a good way. The music was cranked and my fingers glided across the imaginary guitar slung in front of me. I duck walked, windmilled, and headbanged before the solo even began. The audience was into it, clapping and cheering as if we could actually play music. When the solo finally kicked in, I, if I may say, rocked the casbah. On the last high note I power slid a good couple feet to what to me was the loudest cheering all night. Plus, I could tell by the overall pitch of the cheer that the ladies were really digging my bushy sharpie moustache.
We finished to some fantastic applause and came of stage in a volley of chest bumps and high fives. We were both pumped an pleased to the point that we were looking for encore songs in case we won (we landed on "We Will Rock You.") I have rarely been so optimistic about winning anything. By the time they started announcing winners, we were in ready stance to book it towards the stage. In 3rd was "The Worst Music Video Ever," a parody of a Finnish music video from some decade no one wants to remember. I was actually in that one, but I don't wanna talk about it. My partner was my 60 year old Bible teacher.
2nd place went to a girls trio who sang "Tattoo," which, like I mentioned before, was filled with talent, so people were pretty shocked that it won anything. And finally, First place goes to...
The Junior Girls rendition of "Hoedown Throwdown" by Miley Cyrus.
I would be more bitter about this, being beat by someone who gained fame through the Disney Channel and all, except for the fact that my awesome math teacher was the lead lip synchist and did a fantastic job. Never knew she had it in her.
Anyways, we were pretty devastated. I couldn't be sure but I think I saw a tear come to our bassist's eye. After a few minutes of shock we decided that we would win on Saturday night, and rationalizing always helps things.
So on Saturday we assemble our costumes once more, plan another stage move or two, and eventually get up on stage one more time. This time Lee had talked with the guys doing lights so they got the light flashing and a spotlight going. Props to them for that, because if anything could've pumped me up more than I already was, it was flashy lights.
So, again, the winners were announced. In 3rd...More Than a Feeling by the Cool Cats. Well, okay. 3rd is decent. My brother's magic act came in 2nd, and he practiced way more than us, so I'm okay with that. 1st place, however, annoyed me. Not because it wasn't good- it was- but it was because they cheated. The Korean dorm's choreographed dance number blatantly ignored the rules of play.
There was no way that four teenaged dudes, even at our best, could compete with that. Just you wait 'til next year, adorable little Korean girl. Then you'll see. The Cool Cats never stop believin'.
-Will
"He smoked a big cigar and drove a Cadillac car, and said 'Boys, I think this band's outta sight.'"
Me and my bros Jon, Joe, and Lee had been panning our act since June of last year. Planning may be too strong a word, but suffice to say that by October we knew we were going to air band (like air guitar with the full ensemble) Boston's More than a Feeling. This is arguably the greatest air banding songs ever, as proven by Turk's Cool Cats in Scrubs.
So for the past week we got in practices around several sports and a play to work on our stage presence and killer moves to said tasty song, and on Friday night it was time to show the world what we were made of- air.
Looking back, our contrived costumes were both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Joe's inconceivably tight, borrowed-from-a-girl jeans got some major applause. On the other, juxtaposing 80's rock fashion onto a modern setting, and a library-themed one at that, meant that at best we looked like Napoleon Dynamite's older brother and at worst we looked like convicted sexual predators.
But when we got up on stage, and the lights turned on, I lost it. In a good way. The music was cranked and my fingers glided across the imaginary guitar slung in front of me. I duck walked, windmilled, and headbanged before the solo even began. The audience was into it, clapping and cheering as if we could actually play music. When the solo finally kicked in, I, if I may say, rocked the casbah. On the last high note I power slid a good couple feet to what to me was the loudest cheering all night. Plus, I could tell by the overall pitch of the cheer that the ladies were really digging my bushy sharpie moustache.
We finished to some fantastic applause and came of stage in a volley of chest bumps and high fives. We were both pumped an pleased to the point that we were looking for encore songs in case we won (we landed on "We Will Rock You.") I have rarely been so optimistic about winning anything. By the time they started announcing winners, we were in ready stance to book it towards the stage. In 3rd was "The Worst Music Video Ever," a parody of a Finnish music video from some decade no one wants to remember. I was actually in that one, but I don't wanna talk about it. My partner was my 60 year old Bible teacher.
2nd place went to a girls trio who sang "Tattoo," which, like I mentioned before, was filled with talent, so people were pretty shocked that it won anything. And finally, First place goes to...
The Junior Girls rendition of "Hoedown Throwdown" by Miley Cyrus.
I would be more bitter about this, being beat by someone who gained fame through the Disney Channel and all, except for the fact that my awesome math teacher was the lead lip synchist and did a fantastic job. Never knew she had it in her.
Anyways, we were pretty devastated. I couldn't be sure but I think I saw a tear come to our bassist's eye. After a few minutes of shock we decided that we would win on Saturday night, and rationalizing always helps things.
So on Saturday we assemble our costumes once more, plan another stage move or two, and eventually get up on stage one more time. This time Lee had talked with the guys doing lights so they got the light flashing and a spotlight going. Props to them for that, because if anything could've pumped me up more than I already was, it was flashy lights.
So, again, the winners were announced. In 3rd...More Than a Feeling by the Cool Cats. Well, okay. 3rd is decent. My brother's magic act came in 2nd, and he practiced way more than us, so I'm okay with that. 1st place, however, annoyed me. Not because it wasn't good- it was- but it was because they cheated. The Korean dorm's choreographed dance number blatantly ignored the rules of play.
There was no way that four teenaged dudes, even at our best, could compete with that. Just you wait 'til next year, adorable little Korean girl. Then you'll see. The Cool Cats never stop believin'.
-Will
"He smoked a big cigar and drove a Cadillac car, and said 'Boys, I think this band's outta sight.'"
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Good Ol' Days
I've decided to do something new. Instead of doing the usual, and making witty comments on events I've recently participated in, I'm going to recount past experiences and make witty comments about them. You may not like it, but that doesn't matter. When you have a blog, you can make the decisions.
It was the end of the 6th grade school year, the first year we had a substantial class trip. Overnight, and several days long, it was finally time to go to Nature's Classroom. Looking back, that sounds not only lame but educational. However, it was a big deal to is 12-year-olds, and I'll admit, even the scheduled activities during the day turned out to be a lot of fun. But I'm not here to talk about the day. I'm going to tell you about what happened after hours- when the wolves howled, the hockey players left, and the real pranksters came out of the woodwork.
I'll go ahead and use different last names. This is the internet, after all.
On our left, Mr. Pachter, our art teacher at the time, and Mr. Golden, our Math teacher. On our right, Mrs. O'Cooper, teaching History and English. There were other chaperones, but they don't matter.
On multiple occasions, feeble attempts were made by not only Mrs. O'Cooper, but her female minions as well, to prank the guy cabin. Such attempts included tying our shoes together and throwing them in the shower, and, my personal favorite, asking a couple guys to plant a rubber frog in Mr. Golden's bed, assuming the would defect and become double agents. Of course, they showed our math teacher the frog, and informed him of the attempt on his bed. It was at that moment, looking at Mr. Golden, I could see the cogs beginning to turn. Majestic, mischievous cogs.
At lunch that day, both our art and math teachers were nowhere to be seen. They went out to lunch, or so they said. It was our final day at Nature's Classroom, and needless to say, we were antsy. We had no clue that Golden and Pachter hadn't just gone out for a burger; the thought that they would be the masterminds behind the greatest prank of 6th grade evidently never crossed our minds. How naïve we were.
It wasn't until that night that the ball started to roll...although our bros Mac and Jonny left to go to a hockey tryout, and missed the festivities. Yet, soon after they took off, our teacher chaperones unveiled three fateful white bags. In 2 of them, XXXL, whitey-tightie brand whitey-tighties. In the 3rd? At least a dozen Hershey's chocolate bars. Use your imagination.
We spent the next 20 minutes, each with our very own pair, artfully, tastefully, and with the utmost care, skid marking them. Yes, with the chocolate bars. The next 10-15 minutes were devoted to planning our attack- this was no run n' gun sudicide mission. This was a well-thought-out tactical strike, with precision rivaling that of a heist spearheaded by Danny Ocean. There were two levels, connected only by an outdoor staircase, strategically perfect for undie-throwing. We split into two task forces, synchronized our watches, and all 14 of us silently snuck out of our cabin and up the camp hill.
When we got to the girls accommodations, Pachter and Delta Squad headed up the stairs. Golden, Alpha Squad and I lined up in front of the ground floor door, shortest to tallest for optimal firing position. After we counted to 10, we opened the door with a war cry at the same time Delta did on the 2nd floor, and all Hell broke loose. Underwear rained upon the opposing gender in a its soiled glory. Some used the slingshot technique, stretching the waistband with the thumb and flinging them as high-speed cotton projectiles. As Tim later recalled; "Hasn't Captain Underpants taught us anything?" I myself went with a cannonball effect, throwing my pair balled up. The last thing I saw before power-walking back to our base was opening up like a parachute and landing gently and peacefully on someone's face.
The rest of the night went predictably, mostly consisting of us being nervous, expecting retaliation. This manifested itself in our setting up booby traps in and around the stairwell to alert us of an attack. You can imagine our fear and near-pants-wettedness when we heard brooms and ironing boards being carelessly knocked over, closer and closer to our position, as well as our relief as Mac and Jonny triumphantly returned from hockey. The next morning at breakfast the girls presented to Mr. Golden a very pink, very decorated pair of the very same underwear used against them last night. Their creative-but-weak comeback further cemented our legacy- we had got 'em. We had got 'em good.
-Will
"Swimmers go out! The waves go up, not down!"
It was the end of the 6th grade school year, the first year we had a substantial class trip. Overnight, and several days long, it was finally time to go to Nature's Classroom. Looking back, that sounds not only lame but educational. However, it was a big deal to is 12-year-olds, and I'll admit, even the scheduled activities during the day turned out to be a lot of fun. But I'm not here to talk about the day. I'm going to tell you about what happened after hours- when the wolves howled, the hockey players left, and the real pranksters came out of the woodwork.
I'll go ahead and use different last names. This is the internet, after all.
On our left, Mr. Pachter, our art teacher at the time, and Mr. Golden, our Math teacher. On our right, Mrs. O'Cooper, teaching History and English. There were other chaperones, but they don't matter.
On multiple occasions, feeble attempts were made by not only Mrs. O'Cooper, but her female minions as well, to prank the guy cabin. Such attempts included tying our shoes together and throwing them in the shower, and, my personal favorite, asking a couple guys to plant a rubber frog in Mr. Golden's bed, assuming the would defect and become double agents. Of course, they showed our math teacher the frog, and informed him of the attempt on his bed. It was at that moment, looking at Mr. Golden, I could see the cogs beginning to turn. Majestic, mischievous cogs.
At lunch that day, both our art and math teachers were nowhere to be seen. They went out to lunch, or so they said. It was our final day at Nature's Classroom, and needless to say, we were antsy. We had no clue that Golden and Pachter hadn't just gone out for a burger; the thought that they would be the masterminds behind the greatest prank of 6th grade evidently never crossed our minds. How naïve we were.
It wasn't until that night that the ball started to roll...although our bros Mac and Jonny left to go to a hockey tryout, and missed the festivities. Yet, soon after they took off, our teacher chaperones unveiled three fateful white bags. In 2 of them, XXXL, whitey-tightie brand whitey-tighties. In the 3rd? At least a dozen Hershey's chocolate bars. Use your imagination.
We spent the next 20 minutes, each with our very own pair, artfully, tastefully, and with the utmost care, skid marking them. Yes, with the chocolate bars. The next 10-15 minutes were devoted to planning our attack- this was no run n' gun sudicide mission. This was a well-thought-out tactical strike, with precision rivaling that of a heist spearheaded by Danny Ocean. There were two levels, connected only by an outdoor staircase, strategically perfect for undie-throwing. We split into two task forces, synchronized our watches, and all 14 of us silently snuck out of our cabin and up the camp hill.
When we got to the girls accommodations, Pachter and Delta Squad headed up the stairs. Golden, Alpha Squad and I lined up in front of the ground floor door, shortest to tallest for optimal firing position. After we counted to 10, we opened the door with a war cry at the same time Delta did on the 2nd floor, and all Hell broke loose. Underwear rained upon the opposing gender in a its soiled glory. Some used the slingshot technique, stretching the waistband with the thumb and flinging them as high-speed cotton projectiles. As Tim later recalled; "Hasn't Captain Underpants taught us anything?" I myself went with a cannonball effect, throwing my pair balled up. The last thing I saw before power-walking back to our base was opening up like a parachute and landing gently and peacefully on someone's face.
The rest of the night went predictably, mostly consisting of us being nervous, expecting retaliation. This manifested itself in our setting up booby traps in and around the stairwell to alert us of an attack. You can imagine our fear and near-pants-wettedness when we heard brooms and ironing boards being carelessly knocked over, closer and closer to our position, as well as our relief as Mac and Jonny triumphantly returned from hockey. The next morning at breakfast the girls presented to Mr. Golden a very pink, very decorated pair of the very same underwear used against them last night. Their creative-but-weak comeback further cemented our legacy- we had got 'em. We had got 'em good.
-Will
"Swimmers go out! The waves go up, not down!"
Monday, December 7, 2009
Cry of the Nazgul
My bedroom is at the end of the hallway on the second floor. I have my own bathroom, which JD, my cat, sleeps in when I'm in bed. The only way to see JD is to go through my bedroom and visit him in his bathroom.
It's 10:15 a.m. I wake up groggily to the sound of 6-8 immensely cheerful, and noisily so, 8 year old girls down the hallway. Deciding to lie in bed and snooze a few more minutes, I suddenly hear one of them scream "Let's go see JD!" and the pitter-patter of several pairs of feet booking it towards my door. Heart beating out of my chest, and obviously not in attire fit for a meet-and-greet, I throw myself under my blankets and assume the fetal position. As the doorknob turns and the door opens a sliver, barely containing all the children bent on petting a cat, Anna screams "No! Don't go in there!" God bless you, Anna.
Just a few minutes later they're all out on the trampoline, jumping, and continuing to stagger-scream so that there is not one discernible moment of silence. I need to go to the bathroom, and foolishly choose the water closet closest to the front door to do my business. I am actively going to the bathroom when they all come in and the light switch clicks to what someone assumed to be on. The door opens even farther than before (but not far enough) and stops as I yell "I'm in here! I'm in here! I'm in here!"
All of this to say one thing- A lot of people thought that when I'd go to Africa, I'd be living in a mud hut, getting malaria every other week, and fighting lions off to get to school. While I don't mind the assumption (none of those are true, by the way,) two of the most traumatic experiences of my life in Africa so far have been Anna's 7th and 8th birthday parties.
-Will
"How 'bout some many spray?!"
It's 10:15 a.m. I wake up groggily to the sound of 6-8 immensely cheerful, and noisily so, 8 year old girls down the hallway. Deciding to lie in bed and snooze a few more minutes, I suddenly hear one of them scream "Let's go see JD!" and the pitter-patter of several pairs of feet booking it towards my door. Heart beating out of my chest, and obviously not in attire fit for a meet-and-greet, I throw myself under my blankets and assume the fetal position. As the doorknob turns and the door opens a sliver, barely containing all the children bent on petting a cat, Anna screams "No! Don't go in there!" God bless you, Anna.
Just a few minutes later they're all out on the trampoline, jumping, and continuing to stagger-scream so that there is not one discernible moment of silence. I need to go to the bathroom, and foolishly choose the water closet closest to the front door to do my business. I am actively going to the bathroom when they all come in and the light switch clicks to what someone assumed to be on. The door opens even farther than before (but not far enough) and stops as I yell "I'm in here! I'm in here! I'm in here!"
All of this to say one thing- A lot of people thought that when I'd go to Africa, I'd be living in a mud hut, getting malaria every other week, and fighting lions off to get to school. While I don't mind the assumption (none of those are true, by the way,) two of the most traumatic experiences of my life in Africa so far have been Anna's 7th and 8th birthday parties.
-Will
"How 'bout some many spray?!"
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Who You Gonna Call?
I just sat through the movie Eagle Eye. It was pretty awesome... I think. It wasn't one to hold any punches... I think. I say this because I don't currently consider myself as one who has actually watched Eagle Eye. Why? Because the freshman running the movie night had a Cussbuster, or as my not-from-the-South-or-Midwest-like-everyone-else-here dialect would put it, a Swearbuster. Let me explain.
To those who have never even heard of a swearbuster before, prepare to be initiated in the ways of hyperconservative movie going. In theory, a swearbuster connect to a DVD player and cuts out the audio when it detects a naughty word. Depending on who you ask, it's either unnecessary censorship or the completely necessary protection of fragile, warpable little minds. I lie in the "happy medium" camp, and think they're very annoying, but understand that some people sue and withdraw their kids from schools over this kind of crap.
The box of the Swearbuster boasts the number it censors in several major movies, for instance, "Spiderman- 13." Aside from the fact I counted roughly 4 a-words in Spiderman, what the packaging conveniently neglects to mention is that it also censors half of the rest of the movie.
This little box reads the subtitles of the movie (even when they're not on,) and when it finds a swear of any kind, it shuts out audio for several seconds before and after the point it thinks that swear is. So we don't get "What the...is going on here?!" We get 7 seconds of the lead detective yelling silently, possibly about some major event, although who knows? Maybe he's yelling "These pretzels are making me thirsty!" in a way that some could be offended by.
The thing sees a bad word and just shotguns it, knocking out lines, scenes, heck, depending on the movie, entire plot lines could cease to exist. So you could imagine my chagrin when the movie had started, several behind-the-scenes shots of some important military operation had passed, a man with many medals asked "What do we do?!" over the phone, and I was greeted with silence as a man walking down a hallway mouthed, presumably, WHAT THEY SHOULD DO.
So I would love to tell you what I thought about Eagle Eye, I can't. I only heard half of it.
-Will
"If you're . Because if I don't get some good leads soon, "
To those who have never even heard of a swearbuster before, prepare to be initiated in the ways of hyperconservative movie going. In theory, a swearbuster connect to a DVD player and cuts out the audio when it detects a naughty word. Depending on who you ask, it's either unnecessary censorship or the completely necessary protection of fragile, warpable little minds. I lie in the "happy medium" camp, and think they're very annoying, but understand that some people sue and withdraw their kids from schools over this kind of crap.
The box of the Swearbuster boasts the number it censors in several major movies, for instance, "Spiderman- 13." Aside from the fact I counted roughly 4 a-words in Spiderman, what the packaging conveniently neglects to mention is that it also censors half of the rest of the movie.
This little box reads the subtitles of the movie (even when they're not on,) and when it finds a swear of any kind, it shuts out audio for several seconds before and after the point it thinks that swear is. So we don't get "What the...is going on here?!" We get 7 seconds of the lead detective yelling silently, possibly about some major event, although who knows? Maybe he's yelling "These pretzels are making me thirsty!" in a way that some could be offended by.
The thing sees a bad word and just shotguns it, knocking out lines, scenes, heck, depending on the movie, entire plot lines could cease to exist. So you could imagine my chagrin when the movie had started, several behind-the-scenes shots of some important military operation had passed, a man with many medals asked "What do we do?!" over the phone, and I was greeted with silence as a man walking down a hallway mouthed, presumably, WHAT THEY SHOULD DO.
So I would love to tell you what I thought about Eagle Eye, I can't. I only heard half of it.
-Will
"If you're . Because if I don't get some good leads soon, "
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Memory Lane
So I have this DS case. Originally a menacing silver metal mini-suitcase, since then lightened up with Guitar Hero and Mario sticker, this case does more than your average DS case. Though it does contain the usual multicolored styli, various small pieces of technology I don’t trust myself to store anywhere else, and DS games (no, the DS doesn’t fit anymore,) this cases upper, concealed compartment is where the real treasure lies. For about 4 years now, I’ve kept every mostly-flat piece of memorabilia in the top flap of this case.
Every 8 months or so I get the urge to rummage through this wonderful mesh pocket, and since the entire case was bulging from the extra it recently gained (it’s not the only one,) I felt it was high time to go through it again. Maybe it’s the fact that I have homework to put off, or that we haven’t had power for 6 hours and I have nothing better to do, but this time I felt compelled to write some of the experience down. And what better place to document some of my most private and cherished thought, feelings, and memories than the internet.
Here’s an (incomplete) list of what I found, in no order:
1. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess trading cards
-I am the only person I know geeky enough to spend money on these.
2. Laser tag score cards
-These are from Bond’s birthday party 3 years ago. My name on one of them is “Fat Elvis.” Well-played, technology.
3. A taped-up, unmarked white envelope
-I was initially confused by this until I looked at it through the light and saw two words: “Hair Expressions.” Then it hit me. It was part of my mane. Yes, indeed, my Fabio-like locks of the most gorgeous hair this side of the Atlantic. I said then I would keep some, and keep it I shall.
4. a Pink Floyd sticker
-From Tim, years ago. If I’m not mistaken, it’s from their 1st American tour. Thanks man.
5. An Isabella’s Subs menu
-Just thinking about a steak and cheese makes my mouth water, and the rest of my body is currently watering enough as it is, so I’ll leave you all with that pleasant thought and try not to remember the heavenly deliciousness that is Isabella’s Subs.
6. A Meldiva’s menu
-a ghost of downtown Franklin’s past. RIP.
7. Quebec bus schedules
-For the 86, 12, and 60 buses, just in case you were wondering. I can’t say “good times,” per ce, but there were definitely some…quirky ones.
8. 2 songs, written (and illustrated) for me
-by David and Tim, presented at my awesome going-away party. I don’t know if I ever thanked you guys for that, but it was more than I could ever ask for. Thank you.
9. A business card for “Stump Busters”
On the card: “Is your stump a pain in the grass?
So who ya gonna call
STUMP BUSTERS
‘I ain’t afraid of no stump’”
I you saw one of these on a gas station bulletin board in upstate New York, could you look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t take it??
10. A business card to Mohawk Ambulance Service
-I just have this mental image of an ambulance full of ‘hawk-totin’ doctors. Same deal as #9.
11. Ticket to Gamerfest
-This was an amazing night. Hourmazd, Will, spectacular idea. A 24-hour energy drink and video game-filled all-nighter at the high school gym. Only at QHS, ladies and gentlemen.
12. Countless tickets
-Mostly from movies, also to various Sea Dogs games, the random coach bus ride, even on to an AC/DC concert.
13. Notes
-From everyone from Grandma to Edie, Casey to Mrs. Stepleton
14. Instructions to a “Video Game”
-From Amanda’s party in Quebec. Good times.
15. Goodbye speech from Isabel
-Even with all the weird Canadian word equivalents (Joe Louis??) reading this again made me sad. Isabel, if you’re reading this, I miss you, sorry I’m terrible at keeping in touch.
And most recently added:
Menu from Big G’s
Napkin from Gifford’s
Super Mario Galaxy Trading Cards (see #1)
5 Guys menu
Multiple mini golf score cards
Program from a piano recital
Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about half the time, I hope you’ve enjoyed reminiscing much as I have.
-Will
“Is everything the same as when I left, or has something catastrophic happened?”
Every 8 months or so I get the urge to rummage through this wonderful mesh pocket, and since the entire case was bulging from the extra it recently gained (it’s not the only one,) I felt it was high time to go through it again. Maybe it’s the fact that I have homework to put off, or that we haven’t had power for 6 hours and I have nothing better to do, but this time I felt compelled to write some of the experience down. And what better place to document some of my most private and cherished thought, feelings, and memories than the internet.
Here’s an (incomplete) list of what I found, in no order:
1. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess trading cards
-I am the only person I know geeky enough to spend money on these.
2. Laser tag score cards
-These are from Bond’s birthday party 3 years ago. My name on one of them is “Fat Elvis.” Well-played, technology.
3. A taped-up, unmarked white envelope
-I was initially confused by this until I looked at it through the light and saw two words: “Hair Expressions.” Then it hit me. It was part of my mane. Yes, indeed, my Fabio-like locks of the most gorgeous hair this side of the Atlantic. I said then I would keep some, and keep it I shall.
4. a Pink Floyd sticker
-From Tim, years ago. If I’m not mistaken, it’s from their 1st American tour. Thanks man.
5. An Isabella’s Subs menu
-Just thinking about a steak and cheese makes my mouth water, and the rest of my body is currently watering enough as it is, so I’ll leave you all with that pleasant thought and try not to remember the heavenly deliciousness that is Isabella’s Subs.
6. A Meldiva’s menu
-a ghost of downtown Franklin’s past. RIP.
7. Quebec bus schedules
-For the 86, 12, and 60 buses, just in case you were wondering. I can’t say “good times,” per ce, but there were definitely some…quirky ones.
8. 2 songs, written (and illustrated) for me
-by David and Tim, presented at my awesome going-away party. I don’t know if I ever thanked you guys for that, but it was more than I could ever ask for. Thank you.
9. A business card for “Stump Busters”
On the card: “Is your stump a pain in the grass?
So who ya gonna call
STUMP BUSTERS
‘I ain’t afraid of no stump’”
I you saw one of these on a gas station bulletin board in upstate New York, could you look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t take it??
10. A business card to Mohawk Ambulance Service
-I just have this mental image of an ambulance full of ‘hawk-totin’ doctors. Same deal as #9.
11. Ticket to Gamerfest
-This was an amazing night. Hourmazd, Will, spectacular idea. A 24-hour energy drink and video game-filled all-nighter at the high school gym. Only at QHS, ladies and gentlemen.
12. Countless tickets
-Mostly from movies, also to various Sea Dogs games, the random coach bus ride, even on to an AC/DC concert.
13. Notes
-From everyone from Grandma to Edie, Casey to Mrs. Stepleton
14. Instructions to a “Video Game”
-From Amanda’s party in Quebec. Good times.
15. Goodbye speech from Isabel
-Even with all the weird Canadian word equivalents (Joe Louis??) reading this again made me sad. Isabel, if you’re reading this, I miss you, sorry I’m terrible at keeping in touch.
And most recently added:
Menu from Big G’s
Napkin from Gifford’s
Super Mario Galaxy Trading Cards (see #1)
5 Guys menu
Multiple mini golf score cards
Program from a piano recital
Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about half the time, I hope you’ve enjoyed reminiscing much as I have.
-Will
“Is everything the same as when I left, or has something catastrophic happened?”
Friday, August 21, 2009
If I had a Twitter and an iPhone...
...This is what the posts would look like from August 10th- August 11th. I decided to write some of my thoughts down anyway, just for posterity. Go crazy.
2:55- Made it through checking and security by the skin of my teeth- questioned at checking, just made the 70.0 lb absolute limit, then my carry-on was checked by some guy there, but he liked my Mr. Incredible shirt so it's all good.
2:56-Watching the news
2:57- 2 beached whales in Florida...they said they'd "keep us posted." Place your bets!
3:00- Cops are handing out Target gift certificates in exchange for guns in Fresno. Of course, I don't think there were many drive-bys happening with that bolt-action WWII rifle he's inspecting...
3:05- The mother whale died, and the baby's being euthanized. Someone owes me 5 bucks.
3:25- Target! I get it!!
3:30- A flight to Chicago was seriously delayed. An employee had an impromptu PSA which included the phrase "And I will be on the plane, pushing and shoving if you don't go fast enough." Woo me, Delta.
4:24- Some congressman got mad at a doctor who made a health care comment during a meeting about a highway. The verb used has gone from "argues" to "yells" to screams." Oddly, this reminds me of when Dad gets mad at the Gamestop employees.
4:30- Just watched someone talk about a plane/helicopter crash in Newark, New Jersey. Thank God I'm not going there anytime soon...
5:00- Boarded plane, couldn't fit carry-on into overhead compartment for 5 minutes, had to empty outside pockets, mean old lady next to me scolded me for not checking it.
5:15- Old lady turns down offered ice water and ordered one without any ice.
5:17- Old lady turns receives said iceless water, takes two tiny sips, then throws it away. Takes all my willpower not to comment.
7:32- Hear alarm outside…so the questions are; are there car alarms on planes, and if so, was one just set off? Someone trying to hijack a plane while it was on the ground?
8:15- Just lugged 77.6 pounds of crap halfway across Newark airport (and back) to pick up my last McDonald’s meal- a double quarter pounder with cheese, a Dr. Pepper, and a large fry. Here’s to you, America.
9:21- Sitting on the plane, just got handed those funny headphones. Cabin door’s about to close…no turning back after that. At least no one’s playing “How to Save a Life” or “I Wanna Know Your Plans,” because then I’m not sure if I could take it.
10:15- Supposed to leave an hour ago, but we’ve just been hangin’ out on the ground…although I did find this intriguing except in SkyMall, concerning Sudoku. And I quote; “No maths required.” I’m no English teacher, but that doesn’t sound right.
10:30- Looking through the in-flight shopping magazine. One of the things I love about air travel is the arrangement of products they attempt to sell. I don’t care if it is duty-free, I just can’t see anyone buying an 80 dollar ballpoint pen during a flight.
10:35- Finally taxiing. Don’t even get me started on the stuff in the
actual airport…I could get "I heart NY" t-shirts at 4 for 10$ in the city, or 2 for $25 at Liberty Int'l. I also have no idea how all those "$100+ And Nothing Else" kiosks stay in business.
10:40- Took off, smells strongly of urine. I can already tell I’ve left the States. Zing!
11:00- I could sleep, or I could watch Star Trek. Responsible decision, or Star Trek. I don’t even need to say anything else.
12:10- I just love airplane censors. “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?!”
1:30- Star Trek was amazing, watching Scrubs… I’ll get to sleep at some point.
(Aaaaaand…Time change!)
11:45- Jostled awake on the ground in Paris, I probably got about 30 minutes of sleep. Oops.
12:00- Told I don’t have to reclaim my checked luggage! W00t!
12:10- I have to go through the incredibly long security line again, even though I haven’t left the airport. Good stuff, France.
12:30- I’ve been in the line for, honestly, 30 seconds, and about 10 people have cut me off. I hate Paris.
12:40- Of all the airports I’ve been to, and there have been quite a few, Charles De Gaulle is the only one that makes you empty all electronics (including chargers, and in this particular case, a VHS tape) from the bags going through security. My man purse has never gone from so full, to so empty, and back again, in so short a time.
3:30- Meet British 8th grader from DA. He got a pen with a camera hidden on it. ‘Nuff said.
7:33- Just watched a whole bunch of Friends episodes. Tried to watch House but it made me sick to my stomach. He’s wicked funny and all, but the girls’ skin was falling off. Who decided that, “yeah, this is entertaining and fun to watch.”
7:35- We’re flying through coulds, I wish I could take a picture of this view. A red sunset, clouds above and below us, and a serene ocean. A fitting end to an incredible summer.
7:40- Just touched down in Dakar. A huge “Thank You” to everyone who made this past couple of months possible.
7:41- And so begins the next 2 years in Africa.
-Will
“You know, I love chocolate, but whenever I get a bag of these, it just turns into a game of ‘Find the Krackles’”
2:55- Made it through checking and security by the skin of my teeth- questioned at checking, just made the 70.0 lb absolute limit, then my carry-on was checked by some guy there, but he liked my Mr. Incredible shirt so it's all good.
2:56-Watching the news
2:57- 2 beached whales in Florida...they said they'd "keep us posted." Place your bets!
3:00- Cops are handing out Target gift certificates in exchange for guns in Fresno. Of course, I don't think there were many drive-bys happening with that bolt-action WWII rifle he's inspecting...
3:05- The mother whale died, and the baby's being euthanized. Someone owes me 5 bucks.
3:25- Target! I get it!!
3:30- A flight to Chicago was seriously delayed. An employee had an impromptu PSA which included the phrase "And I will be on the plane, pushing and shoving if you don't go fast enough." Woo me, Delta.
4:24- Some congressman got mad at a doctor who made a health care comment during a meeting about a highway. The verb used has gone from "argues" to "yells" to screams." Oddly, this reminds me of when Dad gets mad at the Gamestop employees.
4:30- Just watched someone talk about a plane/helicopter crash in Newark, New Jersey. Thank God I'm not going there anytime soon...
5:00- Boarded plane, couldn't fit carry-on into overhead compartment for 5 minutes, had to empty outside pockets, mean old lady next to me scolded me for not checking it.
5:15- Old lady turns down offered ice water and ordered one without any ice.
5:17- Old lady turns receives said iceless water, takes two tiny sips, then throws it away. Takes all my willpower not to comment.
7:32- Hear alarm outside…so the questions are; are there car alarms on planes, and if so, was one just set off? Someone trying to hijack a plane while it was on the ground?
8:15- Just lugged 77.6 pounds of crap halfway across Newark airport (and back) to pick up my last McDonald’s meal- a double quarter pounder with cheese, a Dr. Pepper, and a large fry. Here’s to you, America.
9:21- Sitting on the plane, just got handed those funny headphones. Cabin door’s about to close…no turning back after that. At least no one’s playing “How to Save a Life” or “I Wanna Know Your Plans,” because then I’m not sure if I could take it.
10:15- Supposed to leave an hour ago, but we’ve just been hangin’ out on the ground…although I did find this intriguing except in SkyMall, concerning Sudoku. And I quote; “No maths required.” I’m no English teacher, but that doesn’t sound right.
10:30- Looking through the in-flight shopping magazine. One of the things I love about air travel is the arrangement of products they attempt to sell. I don’t care if it is duty-free, I just can’t see anyone buying an 80 dollar ballpoint pen during a flight.
10:35- Finally taxiing. Don’t even get me started on the stuff in the
actual airport…I could get "I heart NY" t-shirts at 4 for 10$ in the city, or 2 for $25 at Liberty Int'l. I also have no idea how all those "$100+ And Nothing Else" kiosks stay in business.
10:40- Took off, smells strongly of urine. I can already tell I’ve left the States. Zing!
11:00- I could sleep, or I could watch Star Trek. Responsible decision, or Star Trek. I don’t even need to say anything else.
12:10- I just love airplane censors. “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?!”
1:30- Star Trek was amazing, watching Scrubs… I’ll get to sleep at some point.
(Aaaaaand…Time change!)
11:45- Jostled awake on the ground in Paris, I probably got about 30 minutes of sleep. Oops.
12:00- Told I don’t have to reclaim my checked luggage! W00t!
12:10- I have to go through the incredibly long security line again, even though I haven’t left the airport. Good stuff, France.
12:30- I’ve been in the line for, honestly, 30 seconds, and about 10 people have cut me off. I hate Paris.
12:40- Of all the airports I’ve been to, and there have been quite a few, Charles De Gaulle is the only one that makes you empty all electronics (including chargers, and in this particular case, a VHS tape) from the bags going through security. My man purse has never gone from so full, to so empty, and back again, in so short a time.
3:30- Meet British 8th grader from DA. He got a pen with a camera hidden on it. ‘Nuff said.
7:33- Just watched a whole bunch of Friends episodes. Tried to watch House but it made me sick to my stomach. He’s wicked funny and all, but the girls’ skin was falling off. Who decided that, “yeah, this is entertaining and fun to watch.”
7:35- We’re flying through coulds, I wish I could take a picture of this view. A red sunset, clouds above and below us, and a serene ocean. A fitting end to an incredible summer.
7:40- Just touched down in Dakar. A huge “Thank You” to everyone who made this past couple of months possible.
7:41- And so begins the next 2 years in Africa.
-Will
“You know, I love chocolate, but whenever I get a bag of these, it just turns into a game of ‘Find the Krackles’”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)