My friend Darren Richard sent me this. I don't think that 40secs of video has made me laugh this hard in a while. If you've got the next 40 seconds free on your schedule, pencil watching this in. It is hilarious. If you've got a YouTube YoYo for me to post, you can email it to me for posting at my email, CameronMagee@mac.com
You could say we were a perfect "pear". Let's just say we had a very good, no a "berry" "grape" time. I don't want to be "melon-choly", but the choices here in "Apple-delphia" are "cherry" "lime-ited". The weather was "plum" beautiful. The night's cool air was "peachy".
I posted a photo of us in the lobby of my dorm, and then a spread of the candy from my Pumpin. (the K is silent here)
Caleb's friend from across the neighborhood calls, needing to borrow our wheelbarrow. "No problem, but I don't have a car here, I rode home with my brother, so I'll just load it up in his car, be right over!" Caleb replies. Caleb raises my tailgate, and loads the wheelbarrow. He runs inside for a moment, announcing his departure, and returns to the garage. He climbs into the Rainier driver seat, er, Leerjet cockpit, and starts the car.
Now, at this point, I'd like to point something out. Caleb's Oldsmobile Bravada is 5ft, 4in tall. My Buick Rainier is 6ft tall. My Rainier is taller than his Bravada.
Our garage door, in it's raised, up position, has a height clearance of 6ft, 2in. My Rainier's tailgate is 3 inches taller than the rest of the car, placing it's total height at 6ft, 3in.
Caleb is used to backing out of our garage, tailgate up. He is used to doing this, in HIS car. His car is smaller than mine (see above specification listing). His car is fully capable of being backed out of our garage, with it's tailgate up, clearing the garage door's up position by 7 inches.
Caleb shifts the car to Reverse, and backs up, confident as usual, ready to fulfill his wheelbarrow transporter duties for the day.My car is one inch too tall to be backed out of the garage with the tailgate up.
The car smashes into the house. The impact of the tailgate slamming into the garage door begins to fold the entire metal cargo door in two. A large crease begins to form approximately halfway down the door. Caleb realizes the scenario, and stops instantly, Praise the LORD.
It is too late. The damage has already been done. The tailgate is ruined. The glass is salvaged, the rest is a mess. Caleb spends the remainder of the day maneuvering my tailgate to where it will latch, for the 4hr drive back to Arkadelphia the next day.
Dad spent the week shopping for Silver Rainier tailgates. He's good at this kind of stuff, and he found one. It was shipped to the house, and Caleb installed it today. The ole' switch-a-roo. My car now has a new tailgate, you can't tell anythings wrong.
Let's review...
1.) I get nailed in the parking lot
2.) A padlock dents my hood
3.) My tailgate gets creased and dented by a garage door accident.
I love that car. Ironically, the last thing that hurt it was the first thing to get repaired. Hopefully I can have it fully repaired by the end of the week.
thanks Aubrey, for that ridiculous post. I hope that brought a little comic relief to everybody's day.
Dishwashers: what a great idea. Who invented these things? Joel Houghton I just spent every bit of 20mins washing: a few forks, and a skillet. OK, it was a little more than that, but who cares, it took FOREVER.
Last night was me and Aubrey's 24-month (2-year, for you math majors) anniversary. I decided to finally cook that breakfast that I had always promised her I would cook for her, someday. Well, last night, was that day, night, I think, whatever. I set out to cook her the best breakfast she'd ever had. Of course, she's the product of the Elliott Household, and with Mrs. Stephanie behind the stove, I don't stand a chance.
I scrambled eggs in my electric skillet, and microwaved pretty much everything else. It's a dorm room, what's a kid, err... man, to do?The dishes slept dirty last night, but this afternoon was their time. I carried them down the hall, to this kitchen sink area on the floor. I swear, it took my 2mins for each spoon, fork and knife down there. Holy cow. Of course, I had all the necessary tools of the trade, but still. I'm used to rinsing, and then poppin' dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Not here. DANG. I have a new respect for dishwashers. To the students from the uh... Old School, hat's off. You guys survived your childhoods with no dishwasher. I wouldn't have made it. I would have "bottoms-up" the dawn, and called it quits, right there.
