George, not Pete.
First off, I don't want this post to prevent you from reading Brandon's post below and checking out the amazing article linked therein.
- As some of you will know, I have a history of playing sports with children and taking it way too seriously. (One time, I was playing basketball at the OMAC, and I tried to slap the ball out of the hands of some punk 11-year-old, but instead hit him on the forearm, drawing blood.) Anyway, last night I was at a holiday party for the local janitors' union, along with a couple other people from Brown who've done civil disobedience and fasting in support of them in the past couple months. Musical chairs featured prominently at this party, and of course I jumped at the chance to participate. Out of a starting group of a dozen or so people, I made it to the final two by dint of my agility and seriousness. Unfortunately, my fellow finalist was a 10-year-old kid who was also heavily invested in the proceedings. As the music played for the final round, we ran around the single remaining chair, contorting our bodies to stay close to it. When the music stopped, I went in hard--but the little scamp snatched the chair out from under me, leaving me to slam my ass into the floor in humiliation. At least I kept myself away from the piñata.
- Now, I don't want this to become like my old hair blog, but recently I've been getting a lot of comments on my hair. Unlike Nathan, whose strategy is to get haircuts--and the related trauma of busty harlots chopping off his bangs--over with as soon as possible, I simply delay the inevitable. In the past couple days, I have been likened to "a member of the Beatles" (Matt G.) and "kind of like Bruce Lee, who's cool" (the dude making my sandwich at Jo's), which is a bit upsetting. Clearly, the look I'm going for is "young George Best."
- As some of you will know, I have a history of playing sports with children and taking it way too seriously. (One time, I was playing basketball at the OMAC, and I tried to slap the ball out of the hands of some punk 11-year-old, but instead hit him on the forearm, drawing blood.) Anyway, last night I was at a holiday party for the local janitors' union, along with a couple other people from Brown who've done civil disobedience and fasting in support of them in the past couple months. Musical chairs featured prominently at this party, and of course I jumped at the chance to participate. Out of a starting group of a dozen or so people, I made it to the final two by dint of my agility and seriousness. Unfortunately, my fellow finalist was a 10-year-old kid who was also heavily invested in the proceedings. As the music played for the final round, we ran around the single remaining chair, contorting our bodies to stay close to it. When the music stopped, I went in hard--but the little scamp snatched the chair out from under me, leaving me to slam my ass into the floor in humiliation. At least I kept myself away from the piñata.
- Now, I don't want this to become like my old hair blog, but recently I've been getting a lot of comments on my hair. Unlike Nathan, whose strategy is to get haircuts--and the related trauma of busty harlots chopping off his bangs--over with as soon as possible, I simply delay the inevitable. In the past couple days, I have been likened to "a member of the Beatles" (Matt G.) and "kind of like Bruce Lee, who's cool" (the dude making my sandwich at Jo's), which is a bit upsetting. Clearly, the look I'm going for is "young George Best."
posted by ch at 5:10 PM
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