These Are the Battle Scars I Got From Shrapnel, When I Was in the Trenches of Dawson’s Creek
I just realised at my university there’s no room 13. I asked the director why, and he says that in the past students have used the fact that they had their class in a Room 13 to blame it for bad results. So now we don’t have one. (Actually, someone I spoke to on the net last night commented that most Big W stores don’t have an aisle 13. That must have been the ultra slippery aisle or something).
Today at work:
Reception Girls #1 & #2: Dawson’s Creek, bla, bla, bla, Dawson, bla, bla, bla, oh my god, bla, bla, Dawson’s Creek….
Ms Naiveity (most head-in-the-clouds person in the world): Dawson’s Creek? Oh, wasn’t that in World War II?
I thought I was warped, but I think my younger sister is heading down the same track. A friend of hers has braces with little elastic bands on them, but if she opens her mouth too wide, the elastic bands snap off. My sister was telling me this morning when she got to school, she deliberately started yawning continuously around her braces friend, causing her to yawn, and snapping off her elastic bands. Although one went down her throat, I applaud my sister for such genius thinking.