Tuesday, November 14, 2006

International Week of Being Emo On The Train And Freaking Out The Person Next To Me

As you all know it was International Week of Steven Segal last week, and International Week of Cats the week before that, and International Week of Ravi Shankar the week before that (not any particular Ravi Shankar, just guys called Ravi Shankar in general). This week, though, it is International Week of Being Emo On The Train And Freaking Out The Person Next To Me.



Meanwhile, according to Steph, the French love Bob Saget so much they named a whole suburb after him.

7 comments:

Rach said...

stabby stab stab

whatever

i have to like..... get my fringe died black this week.

or not

whatever

like i care

being EMO is so great. well, it would be, if i had some emotions.

Geoff said...

This blog is becoming way to clean for my liking, so i'm gonna dirty it up a little.

I just bought wildboyz season 3 & 4 and I was watching it while making out, in the background Chris threw monkey faeces at Steve-o. According to Pavlov the association should make it so now whenever I make out with someone I should feel like throwing faeces at someone...

Macaque faeces.

penfold said...

i hate to burst your bubble fellow-useless-Y friend, but "rue de" means street, rather than suburb.
so the french only LIKED saget, rather than loving him.
but what would they know anyway? i bet they pronounce it all funny so the end rhymes with "pay" instead of "bet" too...

Darryn said...

You're probably right about the pronunciation, but Rue de Saget is the main street in the suburb of Saget. So ner.

Kieren said...

Not only would it rhyme with "pay", but I'm guessing a soft "g" would be employed, rather than the hard "g" in our pronunciation.

Nevertheless, it appears your love is spreading, Darryn:

Have you seen http://www.bobsagetisgod.com/ ?

steph said...

actually i think it would be a hard g but you're right about the 'ay' sound.

does chuck norris get a week? or does he not believe in weeks?

Kieren said...

Well, that's it, then. Apparently my French mistress wasn't half as French as she claimed to be.

Excuse me, I'm just going to tell her that she's been kicked out of the boudoir and is going back to sweeping the floors.

Angelique? Angelique! Did you hear me?