Blackberries: If Only They Were All Phones

Blackberries are delicious, and they look so tempting to pick.

But to get to the berries you have to go through this:

And even the flowers you go through look like this:

A lot of people in my family will get into this stuff, physically placing themselves into the thorns to get a berry. Me, I figure some other sap will do it, and I don't have to get hurt. I tend to pick them like this:

Or, even better:

Teachers In Washington

Wherever I go around Washington, I am constantly reminded that school is coming back. The names of streets and various places that have to do with school are all over the place. I know that There's Eugene, Oregon, and he hails from Vale, but in Washington, I caught a glimpse of Clark's Restaurant. Apparently not one for beating around the bush, he named a restaurant after himself. That or someone who had his class named it after him... As if this wasn't enough evidence that Clark is out and about in Washington, I also saw Custer Street.

And then there was Carpenter Street. I was particularly glad to see this, because Carpenter is really almost all I'm looking forward to about this upcoming year. Unfortunately, there was also Rich's Stove, Spa and Patio. That was definitely a harsh reminder that school stinks.

Crazy Canadians

This story happened to me about a month ago, but I've told it to several people, and I figured that I should just stop telling it and have them refer to a written format. That way I don't have to waste my time trying to be funny with the same joke over and over again. I don't like to be redundant.

So anyways, about a month ago I was working the late shift at the Rec Center. There was an old lady splashing water on her grandson from the hot tube. I was watching her very closely cause she had already told the head guard that she had had multiple brain strokes. I told her that she probably shouldn't be doing that, and she climbed out and stuck her finger into my face. "You're one of the mean, nasty ones, aren't you?" she demanded. "Yes, I'm the meanest and the nastiest one there is," I said, not sure if she was altogether there.

"I've been there," she said, "I was the first female Canadian lifeguard. I had to do all the regular stuff, and swim 40 miles." I wasn't sure that that was possible, seeing as how my 20 minute mile time would still leave her at over thirteen hours at my top speed. "Smoking is bad," she continued, "that's what happened to me." She walked off, leaving me highly bewildered.

Five minutes later, she came back. Dreading what she would say, I scanned the opposite end of the pool. "Have you seen my sexy daughter?" she asked. "Um... I can't say that I have, ma'am," was my response. She shambled away, leaving me feeling somewhat violated, and totally confused. Crazy Canadian.