The strangest thing happened last night. Pancake Land had gone over to Little Peddler’s to drop off some stuff, eat a little German food, and hang out for a bit. Maybe plays some video games. Something. I was here at Holliday Island with Operation B. Operation K was coming to get him and they were going to go do brother weekend hangout stuff. When Operation K got here, I walked Operation B out and was chatting with the two of them when I noticed something very terrifying and strange. This chick was walking up the sidewalk toward us very slowly. Like brain-eating zombie slow. As she got closer I noticed that her eyes looked empty and dead. Like she had been hollowed out. Then I recognized her. It was Operation B’s ex-girlfriend. She had come by to talk. The look in her eyes wasn’t hollowness, but drunkenness.

Awesome.

Operation B went inside to get her something that she had loaned him and had been in there for like 5 minutes when she asked if she could go in and talk to him. Sure. Why not? Keep in mind Operation K and I are still in the driveway chatting. After about three minutes had passed, just enough time for her to stab O.B. to death with a paring knife and do herself in as well, we came into the house because O.K. “needed to go to the bathroom”. This is when I found O.B. in the laundry room “changing his clothes”. Let’s be honest, he was hiding.

So, let’s recap the situation for clarity’s sake. I have the drunk, emotionally unstable ex-girlfriend standing in my kitchen. I have the mentally challenged cause of said ex-girlfriend hiding in the laundry room. And I have the brother of the mentally challenged cause of said ex-girlfriend pretending to pee in my bathroom. (He did a fantastic job, by the way. Seating lifting and flushing and everything. Well played, sir!)

I guess it was at this point that D.E.G. (drunk ex-girlfriend) decides that drawing on the big dry erase board would make her feel less uncomfortable, so I gave her permission and she went about drawing. I then went about trying to convince O.B. to nut up and get this drama out of my damned house. Eventually, the situation defused and I was left with a John Hughes moment of a drunk teenage girl crying and throwing a pair of gym shorts at a pick up truck pulling out my driveway. Being a teenager sucked. Then, there was crying drunk girl leaning on my door jamb trying to get me to assure her that I’d have O.B. call her today. And eventually she split, and I was alone again. Well, it was just me and my new duck friend.

Yeah. Okay then. Um, for some unknown reason, two songs came to mind because of all of this. So I made a bit of an obscure reference to one in the title of the post and then I’ve got a video for the other.

Anyways, I’ve got to run into work for a little bit this morning to trim the ridiculous amount of fish plates that I made yesterday and I’ve rambled on long enough. More soon. ~SC