Web-safe, my goat-ass.
On a whim, Joe, my brother and I drove to Montreal to visit Kaitlin. There in a little less than an hour and a half, we spent another half-hour asking for directions to McGill, twenty minutes looking for an internet caf� to find her address and phone number and half an hour sitting in front of her door because she wasn't home on a Saturday night. Without four braincells between us, we didn't call beforehand to make sure she'd be there but I don't think the night was a total waste. I mean, I got to drive home in a friggin' snowstorm and that's all the reward I need.
Joe: Could you tell us how to get to McGill?
SomeLadyLookingBusy: (No response)
Joe: Hello? Do you even speak english?
SomeLadyLookingBusy: No, sorry.
Joe: Ok then. (Rolls up window)
Michael and Joe: Hey, wait!
Ho there! That straight man belongs to me. Prithee let him be.
In other news, I will be curling in six hours. I should not sleep.
In a related story, I once ran away from home for three hours. I went to McDonald's and then sat in a park.
What it's all about