![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Friday night, and I have no life. Humph.
Tonight at dinner, the conversation touched on:
~The merits of Eden's Crush vs. other girl bands.
~How my mom and dad's good friend is now the road manager for Bob Dylan (!!!!!!!)
~The outlandish childhoods of my sister and myself. Which neither of us has yet grown out of. It's always fun, remembering the stupid things we've done- pouring coke into my dad's ear and saying "sharing, daddy- sharing" at seven in the morning on a Saturday (I was three;) making bows and arrows out of string and sticks skinned with a swiss army knife and spending hours trying to figure out why I couldn't shoot an "arrow" farther than two feet. My sister made a "spear" a few weeks ago- a stick (skinned with a knife) with a rock tied to the end of it with blue yarn. She was always into spears.
Which lead to the next topic of conversation...
Dad: Kelsey always makes spears. Heather loved bows and arrows.
Mom: Remember when Dana made you that quiver out of blue fabric so you could be Artemis for Halloween when you were ten?
Me: I still have it.
Later-
Me: Yeah, I was the bizom in archery in high school. I hit the bullseye alot, and I got the top score twice.
Dad: You were the what?
Me: The bizom.
Dad: What?
Me: It's teenage westcoast slang. You know... like da bomb only less... cliched.
Dad: Bazoom.
Me: No. Bizom. Fo Sho. Fo Sheazy. Aiight.
Dad: Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn crutch!!! What the HELL did you just say?!?
I love my dad. He's funny when he spazzes.
~The merits of Eden's Crush vs. other girl bands.
~How my mom and dad's good friend is now the road manager for Bob Dylan (!!!!!!!)
~The outlandish childhoods of my sister and myself. Which neither of us has yet grown out of. It's always fun, remembering the stupid things we've done- pouring coke into my dad's ear and saying "sharing, daddy- sharing" at seven in the morning on a Saturday (I was three;) making bows and arrows out of string and sticks skinned with a swiss army knife and spending hours trying to figure out why I couldn't shoot an "arrow" farther than two feet. My sister made a "spear" a few weeks ago- a stick (skinned with a knife) with a rock tied to the end of it with blue yarn. She was always into spears.
Which lead to the next topic of conversation...
Dad: Kelsey always makes spears. Heather loved bows and arrows.
Mom: Remember when Dana made you that quiver out of blue fabric so you could be Artemis for Halloween when you were ten?
Me: I still have it.
Later-
Me: Yeah, I was the bizom in archery in high school. I hit the bullseye alot, and I got the top score twice.
Dad: You were the what?
Me: The bizom.
Dad: What?
Me: It's teenage westcoast slang. You know... like da bomb only less... cliched.
Dad: Bazoom.
Me: No. Bizom. Fo Sho. Fo Sheazy. Aiight.
Dad: Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn crutch!!! What the HELL did you just say?!?
I love my dad. He's funny when he spazzes.
no subject
I kicked ass in archery, too, until they tried to make me wear those damned arm protector things. Damn them!
Re:
ps. i added kate, her thiny is livejounal/users/nelys
no subject
"The best defence is to have your oponent broken and bleeding on the floor at your feet"
no subject
Re:
Re: