(no subject)

"I believe that's the most clothes I've ever seen Zohane wearing"

"Did you lard this?"
"No, it said in the recipe 'lard OR oil'"
"Heretic!"

"And if you cover it in duct tape, it will be an award"

"Devil went down to Moomba, he was looking for a girl to feel..."

"You may bring, say, spear"
"Done. I might bring a small holdout weapon, of course"
"Naturally. And I might bring a couple of other guys with glaives, of course"
"Certainly. And I might bring Palimar and, mm, Felix..."

"This could be more... wrapped in bacon"

"I don't know if it's his fez or not, I just know it fell from the moon"

"Aha! ... no, that's my foot"

"I'm telling you, you're not going to wind up holding a big flaming sword"
*FWOOSH*

"Zanni Iron Pants"

(no subject)

Yesterday was an alright transition back towards work. Our company summer outing was at Kimball Farm in Westford. It's a not bad place, though a bit golf-centric for my taste. Played my recommended yearly allotment of minigolf (18 holes). Drove enough golf balls to get not terrible at it, and leave my left lumbar a little sore today. Bumper boats were fun for a bit, but not so much after my engine choked and a gang of coworkers shoved me into a waterfall. Bluejeans not looking so wise in retrospect (need to keep emergency pants, seriously). During a lull keshwyn introduced me to geocaching, which is pretty keen. (Her company was also having an outing there; because it's not possible for me to go anywhere within 495 and not run into someone I know.) That may provide sufficient tipping energy for me to pick up a GPS, especially since it'd make an entertaining break on long road trips.