Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts

Thursday, March 27, 2008

CoHa Here We Are

As new residents of Columbia Heights, I'm going to use the made-up term "CoHa" as much as possible to describe our new neighborhood. FYI.

Moving was fairly painless, except for the pain that still lingers from carrying things, and Punk has really taken to the new place.


She likes looking out windows. She also likes houses with no dogs. She also loves America's Best Dance Crew.


She also loves sleeping in the bed. NOT FOR LONG PUNK


Pedro, on the other hand, is a crybaby who is scared and hides all the time like a total baby


Soon we will be having cookout times on the front porch.

This guy at work on Tuesday asked me four or five times for a glass of milk, which we don't have, because, he said, "it would be funny." I disagreed. He stayed strong until the end:


Have you seen the new five dollar bills? When did the treasury hire the Teletubbies to design our money?

Monday, March 17, 2008

SCORE SCORE SCORE


Landlord just called, and on the recommendation of our spaz landlord and spaz boss, we are moving. Hells yes. Feel free to come over and relax on our front porch, which we will be having in two weeks. Adulthood here we are, &c.

When I got home after work the other night, this movie called "Let's Do Things" was on. That's the greatest name for a movie ever. Also, it was listed as "1931 (New)."


We went to the movies last night without any particular desire to see any particular movie, since it's what they call "Slim 'Pickins'" (ie Vantage Point) these days on the movie front. The only thing playing when we walked in was Horton Hears a Who, which neither of us had any particular desire to see, but decided to anyway.

Verdict: it was good. Especially this character, which is named Katie, and made me laugh out loud so hard that everybody in the theater looked at me and then laughed.


One of the problems with phlogging exclusively about oneself is that every year certain things happen, so there's naturally going to be some overlap. Remember last St. Patrick's Day? Sure you do!:


This year it wasn't quite so gross


but if you waited a couple hours and added a grown woman crying while trying to sneak gulps from her dude's Bud Light, you'd have the scene pretty well down.