I got my oil changed right before I went to Atlanta. At the time, I had 58, 284 miles. Usually, Wal-Mart will give me a sticker that reminds me to change my oil again in 3 months or 3,000 miles – which ever one comes first. Apparently, Wal-Mart is now using a special formula of oil. According to my newest sticker, I need to change by 09/26/08 or 588,284 – which ever one comes first. I think September will get here before my car surpasses the 500,000 miles mark – but I could be wrong. 🙂

I’m entirely too depressed to write anything meaningful, so I have decided to post one of those files/stories Phil was able to save off my older than sin Apple.

I used to be a huge X-file fan – I mean HUGE.  For instance, I had to be in front of my TV at 9 pm sharp on Sunday or else I thought the world was going to come to a shrieking halt.   Well, I combined my love of writing and X-files and managed to write a story starring Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.  I was a big fan of Mulder and Scully hooking up, so that is sorta what the story is about.  The story, like Brain Cell Bob, has all sorts of grammatical errors and what not – like my blog, so you shouldn’t be too shocked.  I wouldn’t even say the story is a good one, it just makes me laugh.  It makes me remember how retarded I actually am.  🙂

1ST ANNUAL FBI BALL

BY GABRIELLE COOK
11/02/96

DANA SCULLY SAT CURLED UP ON HER COACH WATCHING HORROR
CLIPS ON FOX.  THAT WAS HOW BORED SHE WAS.  SHE DIPPED HER
SPOON INTO HER HALF A GALLON OF ROCKIE ROAD ICE CREAM.  SHE
WAS FULL.  SCULLY HAD NEARLY EATEN HALF OF THE CARTON.  IT
WAS ONLY 8:15PM AND SHE WASN’T NEAR TIERD.
SHE AND HER PARTNER, FOX MULDER HAD JUST GOTTEN BACK
FROM ONE OF THEIR INVESTIGATIONS WAY OVER IN THE WEST.
SCULLY WASN’T SURE WHY SHE WASN’T TIRED FROM THE LONG FLIGHT
FROM CALIFORNIA.  SHE HADN’T SLEPT A WINK ON THE PLANE.
MULDER HAD THOUGH.  HE ALWAYS WAS ABLE TO FIND A COMFORTABLE
PLACE IN HIS HARD CHAIR.  SHE JUST READ THE WHOLE ENTIRE
TIME.
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR SKINNER GAVE THEM THE NEXT THREE DAYS
OFF FROM WORK BECAUSE OF HOW LONG THEY WERE OUT THERE.
ALMOST A MONTH.  SHE WASN’T SURE WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO FOR
THREE DAYS.  SCULLY WASN’T USED TO THAT.  MAYBE SHE AND
MULDER COULD DO SOMETHING.  MAYBE GO SEE A MOVIE IN WHICH
SHE HADN’T SEEN ONE IN AGES.  SCULLY DECIDED TO CALL HIM SO
THAT HE WOULDN’T MAKE ANY PLANS.  SHE PUNCHED MEMORY #1.
THE NUMBER QUICKLY WAS DIALED.
“HELLO”, MULDER SAID.
“HEY, IT’S ME.  WHAT ARE YOU UP TO,” SCULLY SAID
FEEDING HER MOUTH A SPOON FULL OF ICE CREAM?
“NOTHING MUCH REALLY.  JUST SITING HERE WATCHING SOME
COOL HORROR MOVIES.  WHY DID YOU ASK?”
“MULDER I MUST REALLY REALLY BE BORED IF I AM WATCHING
THE SAME THING YOU ARE.”
“YOU MEAN YOU, DANA SCULLY, ARE WATCHING HUGE ANTS
DEVOIR HUMANS TOO.”
SHE LAUGHED.  “PRETTY SCARY HUH?”
“COMPARED TO THIS MOVIE, YEAH, I THINK SO.”
“HEY, MULDER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING FOR YOUR THREE DAYS
OFF?
“OH, PROBABLY JUST SIT AROUND THE HOUSE.  WATCH MORE
DULL MOVIES ON FOX.  GO HANG AROUND THE LOCAL BARS.  NOTHING
REAL FUN.  DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING IN MIND SCULLY,” MULDER
ASKED?
“WELL, I MIGHT GO SEE A MOVIE OR TAKE A WALK AROUND THE
PARK.  JUST TAKE IT EASY.  IF I DID GO TO THE MOVIES, WOULD
YOU WANT TO JOIN ME,” DANA ASKED HOPING THE ANSWER WOULD BE
YES.
“WHY NOT.  IT BEATS HANGING AROUND LOCAL BARS OR
WATCHING ANTS DEVOUR PEOPLE ALIVE.  WHAT MOVIE WOULD YOU
LIKE TO SEE SCULLY?”
“I DON’T KNOW.  I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO GET A PAPER.”

“I’LL PICK YOU UP IN A HOUR.  THAT IS WHEN ALL THE
MOVIES START.  THAT WILL ALOW YOU TO GET READY.  IS THAT
ALRIGHT WITH YOU?”
“YEAH, I GUESS MULDER.  I’LL SEE YOU THEN. BYE”
“BYE.”
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN MULDER SLIPPED INTO SOME MORE
COMFORTABLE CLOTHES.  HE HAD REMEMBERED THAT HE WAS NO
LONGER ON DUTY.   HE COULD WEAR WHAT HE WANTED.  MULDER
HOPED THAT SCULLY DIDN’T DRESS UP FOR THE ACCATION.  HE
HADN’T MESSED WITH HIS MAIL SENSE HE HAD BEEN HOME SO HE
DECIDED TO SIFT THROUGH IT.  HE NOTICED A BRIGHT BLUE
ENVELOPE THAT HAD “DON’T MISS IT” WRITTEN ALL OVER IT.
THE LETTER LOOKED LIKE SOMETHING HE MIGHT WANT TO OPEN
SO HE DID.  IT WAS A LETTER FROM THE OFFICE.  IT READ:

DEAR AGENT FOX MULDER,

WE ARE INVITING YOU (AND WHO EVER YOU CHOSE TO
BRING) TO THE FIRST ANNUAL FBI HEADQUARTERS BALL.  IT WILL
BE HELD ON NOVEMBER THE 7TH (AT 7:30PM TO 12:00AM) IN THE
FBI HEADQUARTERS BUILDING ON THE 8TH FLOOR.  YOU DO NOT NEED
TO BRING ANY MONEY OR FOOD.  ALL THAT HAS BEEN TAKEN CARE
OF.  PLEASE SHOW UP.  WE WILL HAVE A GREAT TIME.

SINCERELY,
THE FBI

THAT SOUNDED SOME WHAT FUN.  MAYBE SCULLY WOULD JOIN
HIM.  THAT WOULD BE ODD THOUGH.  THEM DANCING TOGETHER IN
FRONT OF ALL THE OTHER AGENTS.  THEM BEING CLOSE LIKE THAT
FOR A CHANGE.  HIM DANCING.  HE WOULD HAVE TO SHOW THAT TO
DANA, PERSUADE HER INTO GOING AND HAVING FUN.  MULDER WOULD
NOT LET HER SAY NO.  HE LOOKED AT HIS WATCH.  IT HAD BEEN
NEARLY A HOUR.  HE BETTER BE ON HIS WAY.
HE ENTERED THE ELEVATOR AND PUSHED THE NUMBER FOUR AS
THE DOORS CLOSED.  THE ELEVATOR SEEMED COLD.  COLDER THAN
NORMAL.  THE DOORS OPENED AND HE WALKED DOWN THE HALL AND
THEN TURNED TO FACE SCULLY’S DOOR.  FOUR-O-TWO STARED HIM IN
THE FACE.  HE KNOCKED.
“SCULLY, IT’S ME,” HE YELLED.
SCULLY WAS SITTING ON HER COACH FLIPING CHANNELS. SHE
GOT UP AND OPENED THE DOOR.  “HEY.”  SCULLY MOTIONED HIM
IN.  “I WAS HOPING YOU WOULDN’T DRESS UP OR ANYTHING.  I
THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE NICE TO DRESS CASUAL FOR A CHANGE.”
“YEAH, THAT IS WHAT I WAS THINKING TO.  HAVE YOU LOOKED
AT YOUR MAIL TODAY, SCULLY,” HE ASKED.
“NO, I HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN DOWN TO THE MANAGER’S OFFICE
TO GET IT.”
“WELL, MOST LIKELY YOU’LL FIND THIS,” HE SAID AS HE
PULLED THE BLUE ENVELOPE OUT OF HIS POCKET.  “OPEN IT.”
SHE DID AS SHE WAS TOLD AND BEGAN READING.  “A BALL?
WHAT GAVE THEM THE IDEA OF DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT.  WHO
WOULD POSSIBLE SHOW TO UP TO DANCE.”

MOLDER LOOKED UP AT HER LOOKING HURT.  “I WOULD.  OR MAYBE
“WE” COULD.” SCULLY STARTED TO LAUGH.
“MULDER, I COULDN’T DANCE IF I TRIED.  DO YOU KNOW HOW
LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I DANCED,” SCULLY ASKED.
“I HAVEN’T DANCED IN FOR EVER EITHER SCULLY BUT WE
COULD TEACH EACH OTHER.”
“WE BETTER GO TO THAT MOVIE WE PLANNED ON OR IT IS
GOING TO START WITHOUT US.”
“THE MOVIE THEATER IS BEING PUT UNDER CONSTRUCTION AND
THE OTHER ONE IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN.  WE WOULD NEVER
MAKE IT ON TIME.  I SAW THE SIGN IN FRONT OF THE THEATER ON
THE WAY OVER.  WE COULD JUST RENT INSTEAD OR FLIP CHANNELS.
MAYBE EVEN TEACH EACH OTHER HOW TO DANCE AGAIN.”  HE LOOKED
UP AT HER AGAIN GIVING HER HIS BEST SMILE.  HE APPROACHED
SCULLY GRABBING HER HAND IN A DANCING MOTION.
“COME ON SCULLY JUST ONE DANCE.  WHERE IS YOUR RADIO,”
MULDER ASKED.
“OVER THERE IN THE KITCHEN.  THERE IS A PLUG IN HERE.
BUT I’M TELLING YOU NOW THAT I AM ONLY DANCING TO ONE SONG
AND THAT IS IT,” SULLY SAID WITH A SERIOUSNESS HE HAD NEVER
HEARD BEFORE.  MULDER PLUGED IN THE RADIO AND TURNED IT ON.
HE BEGAN TUNNING ON ONE OF THE 80’S STATIONS.  AS SOON AS IT
WAS TUNED HE HEARD THE D.J’S VOICE.
“THIS IS A NEW SONG FROM THE BROADWAY PRODUCTION RENT.
IT’S CALLED I’LL COVER YOU.”
THE MUSIC BEGAN.  MULDER GRAPED SCULLY’S HANDS AGIAN
AND BEGAN “TRYING” TO DANCE.  THEY SWAYED BACK AND FORTH.
MULDER LIFTED SCULLY’S HEAD UP.
“DON’T WORRY ABOUT STEPPING ON MY FEET.”

LIVE IN MY HOUSE
I’LL BE YOUR SHELTER

“I WASN’T WORRIED ABOUT STEPPING ON YOUR FEET.  I WAS
WORRIED THAT YOU WOULD STEP ON MINE.”  THEY BOTH CHUCKLED.

JUST PAY ME BACK WITH ONE THOUSAND KISSES
BE MY LOVER AND I’LL COVER YOU

“YOU KNOW SCULLY WE AREN’T IN SOME MIDDLE SCHOOL GYM
WHERE THEY SAY YOU HAVE TO BE ARMS LENGTH AWAY FROM EACH
OTHER.”  MULDER STEPPED A FEW FEET CLOSER.  MULDER WAS SOME
WHAT WAS ENJOYING THIS.  EVEN THOUGH HE CARED SO MUCH ABOUT
HER HE NEVER HAD TIME TO SHOW IT.  ALWAYS OUT CHASING
SOMETHING.  THE WORDS ROLLED ON.

ALL MY LIFE I’VE LONGED TO DISCOVER
SOMETHING AS TRUE AS THIS

SCULLY LOOKED UP INTO MULDER’S HAZEL EYES.  THE
TWINKLED TONIGHT.  MUCH MORE THAN USUAL.  THEY LOOKED AS
THOUGH THEY LONGED TO TELL HER SOMETHING.  A FOR LONGED
SECRET KEPT INSIDE.  SCULLY BLUSHED.  SHE HAD LOVED MULDER
SINCE SHE HAD FIRST MET HIM FOUR LONG YEARS AGO.  WHY SHE

NEVER REALLY SHOWED HIM WAS A QUESTION SHE LONGED TO FIND
THE ANSWER TO.
“YOU KNOW MULDER, EVEN IF I DID GO TO THIS BALL I
WOULDN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR,” SCULLY SAID.
“I’M SURE YOU COULD FIND SOMETHING TO WEAR.  IT DOESN’T
HAVE TO BE THAT FANCY, YOU KNOW.”  THE SONGS CHORUS BEGAN
MAKING THE BEAUTIFUL SLOW SONG NO MORE.  SCULLY BACKED AWAY.
“WHY DID YOU STOP?  THE SONG IS NOT OVER.  YOU PROMISED
TO DANCE THE ENTIRE SONG.”
“MULDER, I’M TIRED AND THE CHORUS OF THE SONG ISN’T AS
SLOW AS THE REST OF THE SONG.  YOU CAN’T DANCE SLOW LIKE
THAT.  I NEED TO GO TO BED.
“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO HELP YOU TO BED?”
“MULDER…”  SHE HUSHED HER SELF WITHOUT MAKING HER
SELF SOUND MORE REJECTED.  IF SHE TURNED DOWN HIS PROPOSAL
HE MIGHT NOT THINK SHE HAD THE SAME FEELINGS AS HIM.  “JUST
GO AHEAD AND MAKE SOME COFFEE.  I’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND.”
MULDER SMILED.  HE WAS GLAD SHE HAD NOT HAD SAID NO.  HE
QUICKLY BEGAN MAKING THEIR COFFEE.  HE DASHED SOME SUGER IN
TO HER GLASS.  MAYBE WAKE HER UP.
THE LAST DROP DROPPED OUT OF THE COFFEE POT.  HE POURED
THE COFFEE INTO THE MUGS.  AS HE ENTERED THE LIVING ROOM HE
SAW HER LYING ON THE COACH.  SHE WORE A LIGHT RED LONG SILK
GOWN.  HE COULDN’T HELP BUT STOP AND STARE.  SHE LOOKED
AWESOME.
“WHAT MULDER?”
“OH, NOTHING.”  HE HANDED HER HER GLASS.
“THANKS.”
“NO, PROBLEM.”  SHE SAT UP GIVING HIM ROOM.  SHE SIPPED
HER BOILING COFFEE.  THE HOTNESS MADE HER EVEN MORE SLEEPY.
THE SUGAR DID NO GOOD.  HER EYE LIDS STRAINED TO STAY OPEN.
MULDER SAW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN IF SHE FEEL ASLEEP.  SO
HE GRABBED HER CUP.  HE PLACED IT ON THE COFFEE TABLE.  HER
EYES FINALLY WENT COMPLETELY  SHUT.  HER HEAD DROPPED ON HIS
SHOULDER.  SHE WAS IMMEDIATELY ASLEEP.
HE GOT UP EVER SO SLOWLY SO HE WOULDN’T WAKE HER.  HE
LAYED HER HEAD ON A PILLOW AND PUSHED HER AUBURN HAIR OFF
HER FACE.  HE STARED AT HER.  HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE LOOKED.  SO
ELEGANT.  SO PEACEFUL.  HE BENT DOWN AND KISSED HER CHEEK
WITH A SLIGHT BRUSH.  HE THREW THE SHAW THAT LAY OVER HER
COACH ONTO HER.  MULDER TURNED OFF THE LAMP AND OPENED THE
DOOR.  NOT YET LEAVING.  HE LOCKED THE DOOR AND TURNED TO
LOOK AT HER ONCE MORE.
“GOOD NIGHT DANA.”  HE SHUT THE DOOR.

*** THE NEXT NIGHT ***

MULDER SAT UP IN HIS BED.  HE LOOKED AT HIS CLOCK THAT
READ 10:34PM.  HE HADN’T TALKED TO SCULLY SINCE LAST NIGHT
WHEN HE LEFT HER TO SLEEP.  HE WAS BORED OUT OF HIS MIND.
HE HAD SPENT HIS WHOLE DAY JUST SITTING IN HIS BED WATCHING
TV, LISTING TO GAMES ON THE RADIO AND LOOKING OVER A OLD AND
DUSTY X-FILE.  WHY HADN’T SCULLY CALLED.  MAYBE SHE WASN’T
FEELING WELL.  SHOULD HE CALL HER?  MULDER DECIDED NOT TO

BOTHER.  IF SHE HAD WANTED TO TALK, SHE WOULD HAVE CALLED.
HE SHOULD GET A GOOD NIGHTS SLEEP FOR THE FOLLOWING NIGHT
AHEAD.  HE TURNED OFF HIS LAMP AND FELL ASLEEP.
SCULLY HAD SLEPT MOST OF THE DAY AWAY.  THE FLIGHT BACK
HAD CAUGHT UP WITH HER.  SHE HAD AWOKEN THAT NEXT AFTERNOON
LYING ON THE COACH WITH THE SHAWL OVER HER.  WHEN HAD MULDER
LEFT?  HOW LATE WERE THEY UP.  SHE LOOKED INTO HER MUG FULL
OF COFFEE.  MOST LIKELY NOT LONG.  SCULLY COULD SLIGHTLY
REMEMBER DRINKING THE COFFEE AND THEN DOSING OFF.  SHE
WONDERED IF HE HAD CALLED WHILE SHE SLEPT.  OH WELL, SHE HAD
TO CLEAN UP HER APARTMENT AND FIND A DRESS IF SHE WAS GOING
TO THIS BALL TOMORROW.
AFTER HOURS OF CLEANING HER APARTMENT SCULLY TURNED ON
HER RADIO THAT WAS STILL PLUGGED INTO HER WALL IN THE LIVING
ROOM.  SHE WAS SICK OF THE SILENCE.  SHE COULDN’T TAKE IT ANY
LONGER.  AS SOON AS THE RADIO WAS TURNED ON THE SONG THAT
SHE AND MULDER HAD DANCED TO CAME ON.  IT HAD JUST BEGAN.
SCULLY SIGHED.
“NOW IT IS GOING TO HAUNT ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.”
THE WHOLE NIGHT MULDER DIDN’T CALL OR COME BY.  SHE WAS
SURPRISED HE HADN’T ALL READY COME BY ASKING FOR JUST ONE
MORE DANCE.  SCULLY FAINTLY REMEMBERED THE NIGHT.  SHE HAD
BEEN SO TIRED.  SHE COULD REMEMBER THEM SWAYING BACK AND
FORTH TO THE SLOW BEAT OF THE MUSIC.  MULDER’S GENTLY
HOLDING HER.  THAT WOULD BE NIGHT TO REMEMBER.  ALWAYS.
SHE HAD LOOKED THROUGH ALL OF HER CLOTHES THAT DAY
TOSSING THINGS ALL ABOUT HER ROOM.  SHE WAS BEGINNING TO
BECOME FRANTIC WHEN SHE PULLED OUT A DRESS SHE WORE SEVERAL
YEARS BACK TO A DANCE AT COLLEGE.  IT WASN’T REAL FANCY NOR
DULL.  IT HAD IT’S OWN BEAUTY TO IT.  ANYWAY BLUE STOOD OUT
ON HER WITH HER RED HAIR.  SCULLY PICKED UP ALL HER OTHER
CLOTHES WHEN SHE NOTICED THE TIME.  11:48PM.  SHE BETTER GO
TO BED.

*** THE NEXT MORNING ***

THE PHONE IN MULDER’S ROOM RANG.  MULDER STILL HALF A
SLEEP PICKED IT UP.
“HELLO,” HE MURMURED.
“GOOD MORNING AGENT MULDER.  THIS ASSISTANT DIRECTER
SKINNER.  I WAS CALLING TO SEE IF YOU WERE COMING TO THE
BALL TONIGHT.  ARE YOU COMING,” SKINNER ASKED.
“YEAH, I AM.  I AM BRINGING AGENT SCULLY ALONG WITH
ME.”
“YOUR BRINGING AGENT SCULLY!?,” SKINNER SAID SOUNDING A
LITTLE SHOCKED.
“YES, IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG WITH THAT,” MULDER
ASKED.
“NO. NO, I WAS JUST A LITTLE SURPRISED.  THATS ALL.
WELL, I HAVE SEVERAL OTHER AGENTS TO CALL SO I NEED TO GO.
I’LL SEE YOU TONIGHT AGENT MULDER.  BYE.”
“BYE.” MULDER LOOKED AT HIS CLOCK NEXT TO HIS BED.  IT
READ 10:38AM.  TIME TO GET UP HE THOUGHT.  THE SUN PEEKED
THROUGH HIS CURTAINS.  HE WAS HUNGRY.  MULDER SEARCHED HIS

REFRIGERATOR BUT FOUND NOTHING GOOD TO EAT.  HE HADN’T BEEN
IN HIS HOUSE THIS LONG IN FOREVER.  IT WAS ODD.
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN SCULLY SAT ON HER FLOOR IN
BETWEEN HER COACH AND COFFEE TABLE.  SHE WAS EATING SOME
CORN FLAKES DOWSED WITH SUGER.  SHE SIPPED HER ORANGE JUICE.
SHE THOUGHT ABOUT THE THE BALL THAT WAS GOING TO BE HELD
THAT NIGHT.  SHOULD SHE GO?  SHE ALREADY TOLD MULDER SHE
WOULD BUT THERE HAD BEEN SEVERAL TIMES WHEN MULDER NEVER
SHOWED UP PLACES WHERE THEY PLANNED ON MEETING.
WHAT WAS SHE THINKING.  TONIGHT WAS GOING TO BE FUN.
BEING WITH MULDER AND DANCING WITH HIM.  MAYBE EVEN MEETING
SOME NEW PEOPLE.  GARFIELD AND FRIENDS WERE ON.  NOT THAT
SCULLY WATCHED CARTOONS BUT SHE HADN’T SEEN A CARTOON SEEN
IN SHE DIDN’T KNOW WHEN.  HER HAIR POOFED IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
SHE WAS MOST LIKELY GOING TO HAVE TO PIN IT BACK TONIGHT.

*** 6:53PM ***

MULDER SLIPPED INTO HIS BLACK AND WHITE SUITE.  HE
THOUGHT HE RESEMBLED A PENGUIN HE HAD RENTED IT FROM THE
PLACE DOWN THE STREET.  MULDER DIDN’T WANT TO WEAR HIS EVERY
DAY WORK CLOTHES TONIGHT.  HE RAN HIS FINGERS THROUGH HIS
HAIR ONCE.  HE PICKED UP HIS PHONE AND QUICKLY DIALED
SCULLY’S NUMBER.  HE COULD DIAL HER NUMBER IN HIS SLEEP.
SCULLY SAT IN FRONT OF HER BATHROOM MIRROR HOLDING A
PIN IN HER MOUTH AS SHE INSERTED ONE INTO HER HAIR.  SHE HAD
PUT HER HAIR UP INTO A BUN AND LET SOME SIDE PIECES DOWN.
HER PHONE RANG.
“HELLO.”
“HEY, SCULLY.  WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PICK YOU UP?”
“NO THATS OKAY MULDER.  I’M NOT QUITE DONE AND IT’S
GONING TO TAKE ME A BIT TO GET COMPLETELY READY.  I’LL JUST
MEET YOU THERE OKAY?”
“OKAY, I’LL SEE YOU THEN.  BYE.”  HE HUNG UP BEFORE SHE
COULD RESPOND.  HER BLUE DRESS FELL RIGHT BELOW HER KNEES.
IT HAD LONG SLEEVES AND HAD A SLIGHT LOW CUT FRONT.  SHE
DIDN’T CARE.  IT WAS BETTER THAN WEARING HIS NORMAL WORK
CLOTHES.  SHE PLACED A PEARL EAR RINGS IN HER EARS.  THEY
HAD BEEN A PRESENT FROM HER MELISSA TWO YEARS AGO AND SHE
NEVER FOUND TIME TO WEAR THEM.  SHE GLANCED BACK AT THE
CLOCK AND IT READ 7:10PM.  SHE NEEDED TO GO.  SHE QUICKLY
CURLED HER LOSE PIECES OF HAIR AND SMOOTHED THE WRINKLES OUT
OF HER VELVET DRESS.  SHE GRABBED HER KEYS BUT FORGOT HER
CROSS NECKLACE.  SHE PICKED IT UP FROM HER DRESSER AND WAS
ON HER WAY.
MULDER ARRIVED ABOUT TWENTY EIGHT MINUTES BEFORE IT
ACTUALLY BEGAN.  HE STOOD TALKING WIH HIS FRIEND AGENT ALAN
BURGESS.
“DID YOU BRING ANYBODY MULDER,” AGENT BURGESS ASKED.
“YEAH, BUT SHE’S NOT HERE YET.  SHE SHOULD BE HERE
SOON,” MULDER REPLIED.
“WHO IS *SHE*?”
“AGENT DANA SCULLY.”

“REALLY!  AGENT SCULLY.  I DIDN’T KNOW YOU TWO WERE
INVOLVED.”
MULDER SMILED AT WHAT BURGESS SAID.  “WELL, WE AREN’T
REALLY.  WE JUST DECIDED TO GO AS FRIENDS.”
“YEAH, WHATEVER YOU SAY AGENT MULDER.  WE ALL KNOW
ABOUT YOU TWO.  WE AREN’T REALLY ALL THAT DENSE.”
“WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY?  I KNOW I CARE ABOUT HER
BUT SHE IS MY PARTNER.  AM I SUPPOSED TO HATE HER OR
SOMETHING,” MULDER SLIGHTLY YELLED.
“NEVER MIND MULDER.  THERE SHE IS,” AGENT BURGESS SAID
AS SCULLY WALKED IN THE DOOR.  MULDER LEFT AGENT BURGESS TO
GO TOWARD SCULLY.  SHE SAW HIM COMING THROUGH THE SOME WHAT
CROWD THAT HAD FORMED.  MULDER RAISED HIS HAND TO MAKE SURE
SHE SAW HIM.
“HEY SCULLY.  YOU LOOK GOOD,” MULDER SAID.
“THANKS.  YOU DON’T LOOK HALF BAD YOUR SELF.  THERE ARE
MORE PEOPLE HERE THAN I THOUGHT.”
“SEE SCULLY THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO KNOW HOW TO
DANCE.  UNLIKE US.”  SHE SMILED.  THEY BEGAN WALKING TOWARD
THE REFRESHMENT TABLE.  “WOULD YOU LIKE SOMETHING TO DRINK,”
HE ASKED HER?
“SURE, IS IT PUNCH,” SHE PONDERED.  (COULD IT POSSIBLE
BE SPIKED)
“THATS WHAT I’M THINKING.”  HE HANDED HER HER PLASTIC
CUP.  SHE RETURNED IT WITH A SMILE.  A SCULLY SMILE.  THE
D.J’S VOICE CAME ON THROUGH THE SPEAKERS.
“WELL, HERE WE ARE AT THE 1ST ANNUAL BALL EVER TO BE
HELD FOR THE FBI,” CRACKED THE YOUNG AGENT WHO WAS ASKED TO
BE A D.J.  “EVEN IF THIS IS A BALL YOU ALL CAN DANCE TO
THESE FASTER ONES.  THE FIRST SONG IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES
AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE ALL OF YOU DANCING TO IT.  IT IS THE
MOCKERANA!”  THE SONG BEGAN TO GO THROUGH THE SPEAKERS.
SCULLY LOOKS OVER AT MULDER TO FIND HIM HAVING THIS AWKWARD
SMILE ON HIS FACE.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT MULDER.  YOU GO RIGHT AHEAD AND DANCE
TO IT.  I’LL WATCH YOU FROM HERE,” SHE ORDERED.
“YOU’RE NO FUN YOU PARTY POOPER.”  HE JOINED THE
EXCITED CROWD.  SCULLY ONLY LAUGHED AT HIM.  THE REST OF THE
NIGHT DREW ON AND SCULLY KEPT ON TURNING DOWN MULDER’S
PROPOSALS TO DANCE.  THE CLOCK ON THE WALL READ 10:48PM.
“OKAY, THIS WILL BE OUR LAST DANCE FOR THE NIGHT.  IT’S
A SLOW ONE AND IT’S MENS CHOICE,” THE D.J SAID TIREDLY.
“ALRIGHT SCULLY.  I’M NOT TAKING NO FOR A ANSWER.”  HE
GRABBED HER HAND AND PULLED HER TO THE CENTER OF THE FLOOR.
THE SONG BEGAN.  HE PULLED HE CLOSE.  MULDER’S EYES LOCKED
ON HERS AND HERS WITH HIS.

YOUR EYES, THE ONES THAT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE
THE NIGHT YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE
WHERE THERE’S MOONLIGHT I SEE YOUR EYES

“YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED YOU KNOW.  YOU DIDN’T HAVE
TO PULL ME OUT LIKE THAT,”  SHE SPOKE ANGRILY.

“IF I DIDN’T WE WOULDN’T BE THE CENTER OF ATTENTION,”
HE WHISPERED.  SHE LOOKED AWAY FROM HIS HAZEL EYES AND
PEERED ABOUT THE DIMMED ROOM.  THEY WERE THE CENTER OF
ATTENTION.  SEVERAL COUPLES WHO WERE DANCING JUST STARED.

HOW’D I LET YOU SLIP AWAY WHEN I’M LONGING TO HOLD YOU
NOW I’D DIE FOR ON MORE DAY ‘CAUSE THERE’S SOMETHING I
SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU

HE TURNED HER HEAD TOWARD HIM AGAIN.  THERE EYES LOCKED
ONCE MORE.  SCULLY STARED IN TO THEM.  THEY WERE THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL COLOR EYES SHE HAD EVER SEEN.  THEY TWINKLED SO.
SHE NEVER WANTED TO LET GO OF HIM AGAIN.  SHE LAYED HER HEAD
ON HIS CHEST.  HIS HEART PONDED SO VERY STRONG.  MULDER
SWAYED BACK AND FORTH WISHING HE HAD MADE THE D.J DEDICATE
THIS SONG TO HER.  IT WAS SO TRUE.  IT TOOK THE WORDS RIGHT
OUT OF HIS MOUTH.

I SHOULD TELL YOU I SHOULD TELL YOU
I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU
YOU CAN SEE IT IN MY EYES

MULDER PICKED HER HEAD OFF HIS CHEST AND STARED INTO
HER EYES ONCE MORE.  HE NO LONGER RESIST.  HE LEANED FORWARD
AND BRUSHED HIS LIPS GENTLY AGAINST HERS.  HE PULLED AWAY.
SCULLY’S EYES ASKED SO MANY QUESTIONS.
“THAT SONG SAYS EVERYTHING,” HE WHISPERED.  MULDER COULD
SENSE ALL THE EYES.  ESPECIALLY AGENT BURGESS’S EYES.  “EVEN
THOUGH I HAVE NEVER TOLD YOU DANA, I HAVE ALWAYS FELT THAT
WAY.  FROM THE VERY DAY I LAYED EYES ON YOU.”  MULDER LOOKED
UP AND NOTICED EVERY BODY HAD STEPPED OF THE DANCE FLOOR TO
WATCH THIS REMARKABLE EVENT.  THEY STOPPED DANCING AND TOOK
EACH OTHERS HANDS.
“FOX…I LOVE YOU, TOO.”  HOOTS AND HOLLERS WERE HEARD
ALL OVER THE ROOM.  SCULLY RETURNED MULDER’S KISS.

-THE END-

DEDICATED TO BUDDY WHO WITHOUT HIM THIS WOULD HAVE
NEVER BEEN POSSIBLE.  IT WOULD HAVE JUST BECOME ONE OF
SEVERAL OTHER X-FILES.  THANKS BUDDY!

I was invited to my school to judge an English competition on my birthday. At the end several students and teachers sang songs. They asked me to sing, too. I don’t know any songs by heart, especially with out the music, so I sang Take Me Out to the Ball Game. Laugh if you will, I was just having some fun.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdTdQCchyIk[/youtube]

Once upon a time, I owned an Apple II C computer. It was what I used to write all of my poems and stories on before I upgraded and got a Compaq laptop, which was handed down to me from my Dad. It was a big upgrade, I know. Phil was shocked to learn that in 1997 I was still using the Apple. I mean, it worked. I didn’t see the point in replacing it until it blew up. My Apple II C never really blew up, though, in fact, it is still working just like it was 11 years ago, but only because Phil did something I didn’t think anyone could do.

Back in 1997, I had been working on a story called “Home”, a sequel to a story I had written called “Next”, when I went to save my data on my new floppy disk. There were steps you had to follow in order to save properly. I can’t remember exactly how it went, it’s been a while, but it went something like this. You had to insert a certain disk, click a button, take out that disk, insert another one, format it, and then save. My Apple was nice, it always asked me if I was sure I wanted to format the disk I had chosen. I didn’t have any reason to believe the disk I had just inserted into the floppy disk was any other than the one I wanted, so I clicked yes. I heard the awful format sound my Apple made, and when I looked down, I saw that the disk I wanted formated was not the one in the disk drive.

What I wish my Apple had asked me was, “Are you nuts? You want me to format this disk? This disk is the one disk you have to have in order to even operate me! Please, I don’t want to see you cry. Don’t hit yes!”

I had formated my start-up disk. And indeed, it was the one disk I needed to do just about everything on my computer. In less than thirty seconds, my Apple II C computer was nothing more than a paper weight. I think I cried for a good two hours, for all of my creative genius had just become non-accessible. All of my stories. All of my poems. Gone. I was devastated.

For years, I asked people if they knew how to get my Apple back up and running, but no one had a single clue. I looked everywhere for another start-up disk, but no one had one of those either, and at this point in the game, no one was even using the type of floppy I would need. I eventually gave up and said goodbye to my creative writing.

Then one day, I met Phil, my computer buddy. Early in our friendship, I mentioned to him what had happened to my computer and asked if he knew of anything to retrieve my stories. He told me that it wouldn’t be a problem, and that he would get around to it one day. I was stoked. Someone had given me hope.

SIX YEARS LATER

Well, I guess anything is better late than ever.

One night, Phil and I had a fight over something stupid, but it made me mad enough to go home and not talk to him for a few days. One morning, still bleary eyed, I opened my IBM laptop to check my email and found this message waiting from Phil : “Hopefully your still not too mad. Anyway, I’ve been working on something for ya, and I think it’s something you’ll enjoy. There’s more to come.” I didn’t know what he was talking about. In a picture file, at the bottom of my screen, all I could see was a black screen with funky green everywhere. I didn’t have my glasses on at the time. I pulled the computer closer to my face and then I realized what it was. It was a screen shot of my Apple II C, and that funky green was the text of a story I had thought I had lost forever. To say that I was happy, would be an understatement. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry.

Below is one of the stories that Phil was able to recover. Some how or another, he was able to convert it to a text file. I don’t know how he did it, I am just extremely glad that he did. Brain Cell Bob is still in the exact format that it was before. My spelling and grammar are completely atrocious, but I thought you might like to step into the mind of a 15 year old.

Looking back, my creative genius wasn’t as creative as I thought, but it is good to have it back. I didn’t remember writing half of the crap that he recovered. I found some fan fiction that I wrote when I was addicted to The X-Files. Man, that stuff is hilarious. All I know, is that I was a huge dork when I was 15, and if anything, I am a bigger one now. Enjoy!

Brain Cell Bob

By: Gabrielle Cook

2/04/97

Hi. My name is Bob aslo known as Brain Cell Bob. Well,

I know that you are thinking, “Why is a brain cell writing

in the first place?” I’ll answer that by saying I have no

idea.Remember I am just a brain cell and the only thing I

know how to opperate is the brain. Doesn’t the word brain

in brain cell give it away? Thought so. Alright lets move

on.

First things first. I am only a brain cell. I did

have 1,000,000,000,000 brothers and sisters but they all had

tragic deaths in which I would rather not talk about. I

will mention my fondest brother named George and sister

named Geraldine. The were the last to die after a major

high that the hostess recived in her early years. They were

strong willed brain cells in which I will never forget.

My loving parents, who were the first to die, were

named Fred and Ferline II. Because of their age they could

not take all the childs play times and parties. Before they

died on that December morn they had introduced me to my

furture wife named Zelda, the Princess of Heavna. She was

aspretty as a angel. My parents had found her lost and

astray in the National Brain Cell Park where all brain cells

go to find a new home. She was gladly accepted in to our

humble home.

At the time I was about 16 in human years and 4 in

brain cell years. (About the year thing. Don’t try to

figure it out. It is almost next to impossible. The year

16 has nothing to do with age. That is how us brain cells

have learned to figure our own own age compared to the

humans. We do age faster than you may think.) Zelda and I

began dating but did not marry till many years after that

because of so many deaths in the family. Zelda was a young

girl who was about 12 in human years when I met her. My

life revolved around Zelda so when are age came to marry, I

asked for her hand. Of course she replied yes. We were

married on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in June.

Now before I get to ahead and have to jump all the way

back here I’ll start now. I was born on November 2nd, 1981

which is known for Spirit Day. Brain cells, if you did not

know, are quite smart from day one. That was the day that

my parents gave me two names. The first one was a Brain

cell name in the Brain Cell lanuage known as Bruca Bru. My

name was Lankca Stru. It was translated in human english as

Bob. For the fun of it I’ll tell you my brother and

sister’s names. My brother’s name was Rutzca Nizzru and my

sister’s was Starca Merru.

In my young childhood years I learned that the hostess

was a wild one. (I think it was her older brothers that

influenced it though.) Because of this roughness that the

young child had, I lost several brothers and sisters. By

the time the child was 5 I had already lost close to almost

half of my family including my parents. I then began to

write poetry and short stories. Of course always through

the child.

I gave my hostess a name in the Bruca Bru and it was

Lilaca Chizu. Which translated, is little child which

refers to “now young child, will be young woman, then thy

shalt be pure woman.” You may think that it is down right

stupid, but in our lanuage it is a honor.

My School years were long and stressfull. Zelda helped

me through them because she was very gifted in those areas.

I had a hard time with math and occasional social studies

but managed to get through it all. Of course came peer

pressure which included smoking ciggerets to only what you

can amagine. There again I lost several brain cells in my

family. I was a weird brain cell and wanted to try

everything at least once or in some case never. Throught

all these peer pressures I learned right from wrong so that

I would live my entire life that was planned for me.

The year I turned 18 in human years was the year I

married Zelda. A female brain cell carries several brain

cells at once. Ranging from one to two billion. These

brain cells are not used to inhance the smartness of the

child but instead they are used to add company. After nine

long months Zelda gave birth to a half a million baby brain

cells. To the first girl we named her Georgia and to our

frirst son, Bob the second. All the children were given

Bruca Bru names but for the first time they did not end in

ca and u. Georgia’s name was Rosz Quilm and Bob II was Izzy

Bimja.

I opened a new school in the Right Secter which is on

the bottom part of the brain which is very active. That is

the school where all my children attened. Since I founded

the school I was able to name it. I named it M.F. Luder

roughly translated in to your human lanuage as “Once born

always a learner.” Written in many brain cell books it is

known that aprocemently 2,000 baby brian cells will live.

The other will die before there first birthday. This

happens because rough activity or harsh things cause them to

die. All the brain cells that have died are burried in the

Brain Cell Cementary in the left top secter because of it’s

forlorness.

Many years passed and the year my children was coming

of age, so was I. My memory began to fail and my writing

drizzeled. More of my family died and Zelda became ill.

She was put to bed and remained there for many years to

come. Many of my children left and moved on leaving through

the cliff. See the brian cells that don’t die, who were not

put there from the beging move on to better things. The way

they do that is by jumping. They just sorta fly off to the

next brain who they come incontact with.

On a day, all most very similar to are wedding day,

Zelda went into a comma, a few hours later, she left us and

went to her Heaven, Heavena. I weaped at her bed side for

the remainder of the day and then built a church in her

honor. It was named The Church of Princess Zelda, A True

beauty. I put up several pictures of her life from our

marriage to her death. She may not have ruled the hostess

body but she was my queen and will always be.

I recieved letters over the years from my children.

They told me of who they married and how many children they

had. I was now offically a Grandpa. One of my younger

daughters, who was known by Bobet, ruled in a hostess body

and had close to two million children. My two oldest

children, Georgia and Bob II, decided to stay and live with

me since the brain cell population was beging to die off. I

needed the company.

Even more years past and it ended up just being me,

Gerogia and Bob II. They never did marry nor do I think

they wanted to. They were to lazy too anyways. It was the

year turned 67 in human years when the now adult had a

severly major high. My only two children could not take it

anymore and they died that night. I guess my body had

become used to it and; did not bother me. I buried their

remaines in the alter of their mother’s church. I lit

candles in their owner as well as in Zelda’s.

After their death, the Brain Cell world, in which I was

brought up in, slowly turned cold and silent. Once in a

blue moon a stranger would enter my door to take a look.

But once they saw how large the cementary was they would

leave. Soon there after no one came and my life became more

dull. I always had candles lit in the church to be able to

feel all of my family’s prence.

My old age brought sickness and that was when I

recived my first cold. I wanted sometimes to leave and hunt

down my children and my grandchildren, the Grandchildren I

will never see. I then decided to write my life story down

and this is what you are reading. With all the quietness it

was written quite quickly. I knew my death was approaching

and I knew I had lived a much longer life than any brain

cell had ever had before. Who had operated so many tasks

with only one me and even kept sucessfull in keeping me

alive.

When the day came which was Febuary 14th, Valentines

Day, I knew it was time. That is why this ending is written

in such a knewly stated fashion. As though it is happening

write now. As I closed my eyes for the last time I knew my

life had been a most memberable one. And in my mind those

candles I lit will remain burning till the end of time no

matter what happens to the hostess that I lived with. I can

now join my wife and children in my wife’s heaven,

heavena.

Bob’s Note

This goes to all the one brain cell brains that are

just like me. I begg of you to take care of your host or

hostess till the day that you die. You may think you are

just a brain cell but in truth you are more than the

honorable lanuage the Braca Bru could translate. So I will

leave you with these words and take with you them were ever

you may travel to ever you shall and meet. Diwn Ligh Tusm

Rilsha. Live a long life.

Brain Cell Bob 😉

Yesterday, I wore a skirt to work. It’s not something I do very often. To give you an idea of how often I get all girly, yesterday was the second time since February 13th that I’ve worn something other than pants. So, you can imagine the surprise my boss had when she saw me in one for the first time. (She had been out the last time I wore one). She came into my office to say good morning, but before she could even say that, her eyes got all big, and she said, “You are wearing a skirt?! You mean you have legs?!”

It’s probably silly to you, but it made me laugh.

I had a similar thing happen to me when I walked into my school’s office(WECL) one day wearing a purple dress. The entire staff said, “Wwwoooowwww”, like I had just had a head to two make-over or something. They had never seen my white little legs before either.

Also, yesterday, my mother was nice and gave the three Dennis the Menaces living next door to us each a bag of M&M’s. She did this because they are constantly coming over and asking if we have any snacks or candy. The kids are sweet, they just don’t have any manners. And they most certainly do not understand personal space. We can’t even pull up in our driveway some days without having them swarm our car like vultures. Some days we take bets on whether or not they are going to run over to us when we get home. My brother has started smoking out back so as to avoid them, but because we don’t have a high fence, they can see him back there, too. When they catch a glimpse of him, they hang on the fence and ask him what he is doing or what my cat, Morgan Rose Ireland Yvette DeWitter is doing. They don’t call her that of course. They call her Black Cat.

“Hello, Black Cat! Can we pet your Black Cat? Is your Black Cat mean? Will Black Cat bite us? Is your Black Cat tired? Why is your Black Cat laying down?” The questions never end.

Well, I told my mother that by giving them candy that she was just encouraging them and that it would probably just make them worse. She said she wouldn’t do it very often, but I told her the damage was already done. When we got back from the store a little while later, all three of them came running over to our car.

“Do you have any more M&M’s?”

I looked over at my mother. “I told you so.”

“No, I don’t have any more M&M’s. Sorry,” my mom replied.

My mom and I got out of the car and started walking to our front door. The three of them followed behind us like lost, lonely puppies.

What I heard next both shocked me and made me laugh.

“I wish I was your son,” the little boy said. Like I said, I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I laughed. I laughed very loud.

I don’t know who he was talking, me or my mother. I’m guessing my mother, since she was the one to give them the M&M’s in the first place.

“Well, that is very sweet of you,” my mother said.

The two girls then chimed in. “I wish I was your daughter!”

Whether or not they meant it, I don’t know. Perhaps they were trying to pull at my mother’s heart strings in hopes that they would get more candy. When they say that they weren’t getting any, and that we were going inside for the evening, they decided to run back to their house.

Several weeks ago, Phil was cleaning up what used to be his room at his parent’s house, when he came across a stack of journals he had written in elementary school. I think they were from the 4th grade, but I can’t remember off hand, and Phil isn’t sitting here to tell me. All of them were addressed to his teacher, who he called Mama T. I asked him why he called her that instead of Mrs. So-and So, and he said that it was what she told everyone to call her. There must have been 30 or more journals that he’d written, but I’ve only scanned the one below for your reading pleasure. Maybe if you leave lots of awesome comments, I’ll be able to convince Phil to let me scan the rest.

If you read all of the journals back to back, they tell the story of Phil and an eraser called Evil E. They do all sorts of things together. They travel through space and time, all the while causing lots and lots of trouble. Most of the entries have little drawings of Evil E. doing something bad, whether it is holding a gun to someones head or beating someone up. I thought they were pretty funny.

If you want a glimpse into Phil’s young mind, just take a look below, but be very, very afraid. Heh.

Phil would have been called in by the authorities, had he drawn this in school today.

Ah, the world has gone mad – mad I say!

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4[/youtube]

Mad World by Gary Jules

I don’t know whether Phil was trying to say Damn School or Dumb School.

I think Damn School is funnier, so I’ll stick with that. 🙂

A list of disturbing searches that have lead to my blog . . .

1. naked babies

2. naked chinese student

3. sweet chinese naked

4. show some pictures of naked baby girls

At first, I was dumbfounded as to why these type of searches were leading people to my blog and then I remembered – I posted this some time ago. And I am sure now that I have written those specific phrases, more freaks will undoubtedly find themselves here.

For those of you who have blogs, do any of you get equally disturbing searches?

Here are some rather strange searches. Some of them are self-explanatory, but I wish I knew why some of them were typed into Google in the first place.

1. does the dead come back

2. head around corner then gone

3. how to find a misplaced cell phone that is turned off

4. over due goats

5. pictures of a dead pigeon

6. story of princess lives misplaced in a jungle

7. video of person using squat toilet

8. how to get spiders and roaches out of car

9. satan caught on film

10. shenyang whore

11. i am not taught anything at my school

Here are a few more of the entries from my third grade journal.

Haha, I was giddy.  I’m surprised I knew that word.

I think I was an angry kid. I’ve found a lot of entries where

I’ve said that I was mad at someone.

I remember nights when I would sing until I got sleepy.  I was a weird kid.

I can see why I never became a famous artist.

I think I actually remember being mad about this.

How dare someone not tell me they are moving!  The nerve! 🙂

When I was in 3rd grade, Mrs. Lane, my teacher, had me and the rest of the class keep a journal throughout the year.  Phil laughed his ass off when he read through it and thought that I should post a few of them on my blog.  I’ve gone through and taken pictures of the ones I thought were humorous.

How I ever became an English major is beyond me.  My spelling is absolutely atrocious, as you’ll see.  I’m still not that great of a speller today, but at least I don’t spell diary 4 different ways.  🙂  Hey, at least I tried, right?

If you can figure out what I’m trying to say in them, well, you must be special.  Phil had to have me translate a lot of it for him.   Most of it is understandable, I think.   Anyway, I thought it might give you a laugh and make you smile.  I’ll post some more later.

And if you think these are funny, wait until I post the funny journal entry that Phil wrote when he was in elementary school.  I’ll try to get that one up, too.  Enjoy.

Apparently, this was my first day of school.  I don’t remember writing any of these at all.

Of course, this is coming from a kid who really wasn’t afraid of anything that had more than two legs.  My parents had to constantly tell me to be careful what I picked up.  I got bit more times than you can count.

Math was never my strong suit.  I cried over my multiplication tables.  Still do.

I spent many weekends at my grandparent’s house.  I don’t know why I wouldn’t have wanted to go.

I wonder if anyone has every died from laughing.  Sounds painful.

One evening, in Fuyang, Phil and I were invited to attend one of Phil’s student’s birthday party. For the life of me, up until 5 minutes ago, I couldn’t remember the name of this student. I’m sure that you don’t care, but it was about to drive me mad. I hate when I can’t remember stupid stuff. Anyway, the student’s name was Alan, it was his 16th or 17th birthday, I can’t recall, and he wanted his two new foreign friends to celebrate with him. We gladly accepted the invitation, of course. Alan was a good student and actually seemed like he wanted to be our friend, unlike many others who just wanted to tote us around and show us off like we were an exotic breed of dog.

Alan told us to meet him at the school gate after class. He didn’t live too far away, so we all decided just to walk to his parent’s house. When he finally got to the school gate, he looked very troubled and sad. Apparently, he had somehow lost the 200 yuan(RMB) that his parents had given him to use at KTV – Karaoke TV – later that night. He thought someone in his class had taken it, but since he didn’t have a clue who, there wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it. We offered to give him the money, but he politely declined. Some of his fellow classmates, who were also going to be in attendance at his party, were going to help him out. He made us promise not to tell his parents.

We first stopped by his grandmother’s house – at least that is who I think it was. She was old and they seemed related. We sat there for a while basically staring at each other. She didn’t speak any English, and our Chinese was limited – conversation was almost impossible. Alan translated a little for us. She gave us some tea, and when we were done, we walked a few more blocks to his house.

We arrived to find Alan’s father cooking in the kitchen. If I remember correctly, his father was a cook in a local restaurant, but don’t quote me on that. His parents, like his grandmother, spoke no English – besides hello. They greeted us with huge, happy smiles on their faces. Phil and I sat down on the couch and started sucking on some sugar cane that we saw cut up in a bowl on the coffee table. I always expected sugar cane to be more, well, sugary, but this kind wasn’t. I wonder what they call a coffee table in Chinese since many of them don’t drink coffee. Hrm, I never thought of that before now. 🙂

Phil had brought his computer with him so that he could play some American music for everyone. Music always makes a party better, didn’t ya know? Well, the music that Phil played was a bit different than what they were all used to. A lot of it was harder than the typical music played on Chinese radio. If you’ve been to China, you know exactly what I am talking about. If you haven’t, most of the music, at least what I heard, is very soft and slow. I’d say a lot of their songs have a rather strong lulling effect. I tried picking out some softer music for them, and they seemed to like that a bit more.

After Alan’s father finished cooking and had all of the dishes placed on the table, both of Alan’s parents said goodbye and left. I was very confused. I asked Alan why his parents were leaving, and he said something like his parents didn’t want to bother us. Phil and I shrugged our shoulders and started digging into the feast that lay before us. All and all, it was an okay dinner. I wasn’t particularly fond of any one dish. Like at most birthday parties, the one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about was the birthday cake.

Birthday cakes in China are a little different from what us westerners are used to. The cake is more spongy, and the icing just tastes different. I don’t know exactly how to explain it. Also, a lot of the cakes come with fruit on it. Is it good? Yeah, it’s alright, but I still prefer the western cake a little more.

Well, soon after we polished off our table of food, someone brought the cake out of the refrigerator. In Fuyang, every time you bought a cake, you got a cool ass Lotus candle. (I’ve got a video of the one that was on my cake. I’ll post that soon.) It starts out closed up like a bud. A wick sticks out of the top. You light the wick and when it burns down, it lights all of the other wicks on fire. There are wicks on each of the petals. When all of the wicks catch a flame, It opens up like a flower blooming and sings Happy Birthday to you. It’s absolutely awesome and looks very pretty with all of the lights off. I haven’t seen anything like that here in the States before. Well, the flower bloomed, we sang, and the when started to cut the cake.

There is a tradition in my family, or rather, a cruel joke. Whenever we eat something that is mushy, like cake, ice cream, or mashed potatoes, we like to get a little bit silly. I’m sure everyone reading has probably seen it done. It goes like this. You hold the mushy substance close to your nose, smell it, make a face like it smells like something died, pick a target, and have someone come smell it for you to make sure that it really smells as bad as you say. When they lean in for the sniff you shove said substance up their nose. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh.

Well, more or less, that is what I told Alan, who had just cut himself a huge piece of cake. For a second he let the words settle in and then without any hesitation, turned and shoved the entire plate into one of his party guest’s face.

I was shocked. Phil was shocked. Everyone, especially the person that just had cake smashed into his face was shocked. And then war broke out.

The boy that had just been creamed, picked up what was remaining of the cake and threw it into Alan’s face. Alan took what was left and threw it at one the girls in attendance. Her silky black hair turned white and she started to scream. She retaliated and threw her piece back – not caring who it hit as long as it hit someone. Cake was flying everywhere. It was madness. All I could do was laugh and watch. I had tears rolling down my face. The apartment had been trashed.

“Oh, his parents are going to kill us, ” was all that I could think.

This must have gone on for several minutes before it finally calmed down. The girls had locked themselves in the bathroom – 1) to protect themselves from further attack and 2) to clean themselves up. They hadn’t looked so hot going in.

I had been smart, and saved my piece of cake. When all was said and done, I ate it.

We made sure to clean up the place a little bit. I really didn’t want his parents coming home to see what the Americans had let unfold in their absence. I’m sure they would never have been able to understand. I made a mental note to never tell a person who didn’t speak English as a first language my family’s little joke ever again. 🙂 I found it funny that he skipped the whole, “Hey, smell my cake,” and just threw it. You really had to be there. It was crazy.

Once we had everything cleaned up, we left the apartment, hopped in a cab, and went to a local KTV to sing for the next several hours. Nothing else crazy happened that evening, besides seeing a woman fall flat on her ass as she walked over a bridge. It was old and slippery – made of marble or something like it. Poor thing broke her tail-bone I think.

And that is the story of the birthday cake. The moral of this story? Be very careful if anyone ever ask you to smell something. 🙂