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Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in Rob's Law or Graves' Law's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, October 2nd, 2007
10:59 am
Rabbit and Cat couple
They should make a third movie of them.
Tuesday, September 20th, 2005
8:51 am
Happy Birthday Shorty!
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We love you, Shorty!

Current Mood: happy
Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005
6:00 pm
okay, here's an old entry. i've had it in my lj for a while, but never really had the chance to post it here. it's from this summer when i was a counselor for travelling vbs.

"well, the group went over to someone's house for dinner last night. we had a cookout, roasting hotdogs over an open fire and making smores. i saw a 4-wheeler. it was awesome. without hesitation i hopped on it and drove around. it was awesome. i couldn't stay off of it all night. n.n
but then...it happened.
we were all encouraging molly to try driving. it was a bad idea. she hardly has any peripheral vision and she has practically no night vision(given, it was still light outside). bad idea. this is someone who the license branch told it would be better for her not to get a license. so..
everyone egged her on. she got on and i went on behind her to teach her the ropes, being in expert within minutes of first driving it and it now being several hours later.
so there we were. i told her about the accelerator button and the break and the forward, neutral, and reverse shifts. so we took off and almost crashed into a tree. whatever, we didn't hit anything.
so we tried again and we got to this little bridge you have to go over and i guess she panicked and accidentally hit the accelerator and took a hard turn to the right. so we ramped off the side of the bridge right into the corn field breaking down several rows and my leg hung over the edge so we ran over my sandal covered foot. bad things.
anyway. we turned it off and jumped off. she had skinned some fingers and was missing a patch on one of them. i hobbled over to retrieve my other sandal while the one that didn't get run over fell off my foot onto the 4-wheeler.
marvelous times.
so she starts getting huffy and says that she told us not to make her drive and that's why she didn't want to do it. so she got up and started walking down the path towards the rest of the group and i hopped onto the 4-wheeler and backed it up out of the corn field, went back over the bridge and followed her back to the site.
we then told everyone we had had an accident, but it was nothing serious. they got some disinfectant and bandaged up her finger. i sat down and they propped up my foot. i had skinned several different parts, none of them bleeding, but i had this huge purple bruise on my left foot on the outside heel of it. it swelled up slightly. I hobble/limp around. great times i tell you.
then the boys decided they were going to catch some frogs for us. giant bullfrogs. so they bring one over to show it to me and it leaps out of their hands, onto my chair, across my back, down the chair, and out into the wild.
the second frog escaped in a similar manner. it hopped into the chair my foot was propped on, but luckily they caught him soon after. he was an absolute beauty.
no one would let me ride the 4-wheeler for the rest of the night, even though i protested and suggested that i drive everyone back to the house one by one.
molly still feels horrible for snapping on me and hurting my foot, but who cares? it's in the past and it wasn't really her fault.
she still blames callie for basically forcing her to do it, though i feel bad because i was the one to first suggest it.
anyway, lots of fun was had and we laugh over it and everyone's really concerned about my foot, but it's no big deal. whatever. i swear, i'm going to chuck a chair at them. this morning, in roughly ten minutes, about four or five people asked me how my foot was doing. it was ANNOYING!
the beds at this house aren't really comfortable either, so it's really hard to sleep. i toss and turn all night plus i have to have my foot propped up. so annoying.
i keep feeling like i need to crack my ankle but everyone keeps telling me not to because that'll make it worse, plus i can't do it anyway because everytime i go to pop it, it starts hurting when i turn it. so, no ankle popping for me and no running after children, especially those with down syndrome."

it was actually a really funny story. we played a game called "name that staff" and used it. it was hilarious. whenever someone mentioned the story we'd all burst out laughing.
shortly after, everyone acted like nothing happened to my foot, so when i complained that it hurt they just said i was looking for sympathy. well, my oldest sister used to be a nursing major for a year or two and i had her look at it and she told me it was sprained and there was obviously major swelling.
i now wear an ankle brace...if i can remember to put it on...
Wednesday, May 4th, 2005
7:41 am
The day Julie got physically violent...
(I wrote this in my journal as well, but I thought I'd post it here just because it seemed to fit.) Who wants to hear something amusing? You all do. I know you do. Don't lie to me. =) Anywho, here goes:

You know that I wasn't allowed into ICU to see Michael at all, right? Well, there is a good reason for that. You see, once my mother had brought me into the emergency room where Mikey was being kept temporarily, a doctor came into the room along with RN's and the like. He went on with his spiel about how my brother was doing and all and telling me that things weren't looking good. Well, I was ever so slightly on edge as it was, and here this doctor was telling me that the sodium chloride wasn't doing the trick and my little brother might not get better. I was thinking, "Why not just do a full blood transfusion?" so I voiced this opinion.

Of course, the doctor just stood there going, "We won't be doing that." I got pissed after I asked him "why not" a couple of times and all I got was the same answer. I became a bit flustered and worked up, so I began berating him. Now, in retrospect, this guy took my tongue lashing very well and did wonderfully with controlling himself. But, me being me, I don't take well to negative people when I want to be optimistic and I especially don't take well to apathy. If I'm not getting some sort of response that I feel is necessary in stressful situations, I go off the deep end.

(Now you all know the secret to winning a verbal match with me: be apathetic. Of course, you might win that battle but then I might...)

I punched him. (...I might do that...) Right hook to the left cheek. Yeah, it connected harder than I thought it would. The poor doctor stood there stunned and a little upset, I might add. I understand completely. After all, this guy was really young so he was probably only an intern and didn't know what to say to me. I feel really bad now that I look back on it, but as Jareth (David Bowie's character) said so eloquently in the "Labyrinth": What's done is done. (I think it's actually "What's said is said", but you get the picture.)

The bottom line is that they had two security guards and a nurse escort me out (along with my mother so she could take me home then come back). I felt really bad. Perhaps even evil-like. *shrugs* That's what happened, in any case.

*yawns* I'm tired now. I need to sleep off this stress. Guten nacht und ich liebe dich.

Current Mood: OMG! No face!
Saturday, April 30th, 2005
12:09 am
Could taking down a loft get ANY worse?
So, I was helping take down Jess' loft. Nothing scary, just manuvering all the wood and stuff around all the stuff she still has in her room. Not too bad, managable. I go to grab a little peice of wood that Austin is handing down to me when all of a sudden, a 4X8 foot peice of PLYWOOD comes crashing down on my head, with AUSTIN on top of it. I just kinda stood there, everyone is asking if I'm okay. I couldn't say anything for a bit cause I was kinda in shock. Then pain, tears, you know, the basics. I finally respond, yeah, I'm alright. My head hurt a bit and my arm some cause it got scratched. And, my head still hurts a bit.

I guess when Austin stood on that wood, it tipped through the rafters and he went through the width of the rafters with it. On to my head. They were all concerned about me. But, I just sat down and drank some gingerale. Although, I really would have liked Ray to follow up on that offer of codeine (although, I don't think he really had any, how sad).
Tuesday, April 12th, 2005
11:31 pm
The first/only time I ever got drunk.

Sure, things start out fine at first. You sit down in your friend's room, drinking some whiskey and beer. It tastes disgusting, but you down it anyway, just to prove you can.
After a while, a game of "Sorry" insues. The alcohol has run it's course, making you seek out the bathroom. On your return trip your tall, gay man friend is standing in front of you. You reach out to him and end up PUNCHING HIM IN THE THROAT! Needless to say, he isn't happy.
Well, neither are you. You're tipsy as fuck and can hardly stand, let alone walk straight.
So you hobble into the bedroom and take your seat. After a while, more people show up finishing off what was left of the beer. They all decide that it's a good idea to go take a walk.
You're not so keen on this idea, seeing how if you moved around too much, you might just throw up on everyone. Thankfully, you decline, laying down in bed and trying to ease your stomach so you can sleep.

Oh, did I forget to mention? All the while you were practically yelling about "not being drunk, just a LITTLE tipsy." And how you're not a bad drunk, but your sister is a bitch. u.u'

Hope you guys enjoyed that one.
Saturday, April 9th, 2005
1:10 am
Since Heath won't share...
keitaro_keiichi is well known around these parts for a lovely 8 or so hour walk around town. Drunk. Early in the morning.

"Soo...it was a friend of mine's 21st birthday last night. Much drinking was involved, and we went to the bars at midnight. At some point I got seperated from the group and decided to walk home. Well apparently Bachus wasn't finished with me yet, and in a nasty trick I somehow got lost. It was very cold and snowy last night. At one point I was out by the football stadium. At another I was around the apartments. And still yet another I was at the Marsh off of Tillotson, where I decided to buy some cookies and ask for directions. By the time I got home it was about 8:30 in the morning and every inch of me was dead. I passed out on my roomie's futon. Around 11 I woke up and decided to peel the contacts off my eyes and go to bed. It seemed that my legs, howver, disagreed. My knees buckled when I stood up and it was all I could manage to get into my bed.

...I died a little today..."

If he leaves the post up, its here.

Or, a screencap, here.Collapse )
Tuesday, March 29th, 2005
10:28 pm
Alright kids, I've been promising to put these up here for a while, so here goes.

Lesson #1:Two Pocket Maximum

So, a few years back I was over in Japan with a group from my school. Nothing big, just homestayed with two families and got to see a bit of Tokyo and Kyoto. The trip ran rather smoothly, despite the best efforts of one of the few people on Earth capable of generating elemental Stupidity, but that is beside the point.

Three weeks pass, and we are standing in Narita airport, getting ready to board the triple decker plane for a sixteen hour international flight. I'm second to last in line, and I'm doing the traditional checklist:watch, wallet, ID, ticket, passpo--...oh, bugger...

Well, much searching of the terminal ensues, which is quite silly since I just had to show the passport twice to get where I was standing. Go figure. Eventually an inspector Wong at Honolulu immigrations informed the guy letting people on the plane that there was some old court case that lets American's get back in the country just by asserting that they are American. And, half an hour late, the international flight took off...

But that isn't all! We reach America, go through the TSA and customes, and collect our baggage. I hit the bathroom and as I am coming out make a 'discovery'. It seems that, for the first time in my life I had used a back pocket...for there was the passport, safe and sound. Which is something that sensei really wanted to make me not be.

Lesson #2: There is nothing that tea cannot do

A few weeks back I went in to get my wisdom teeth out. Several injections later I am off in a happy place. This happy place is quickly ruined when the anasethetic cuts out...right as the dentist starts in on the last two teeth. Much muffled cursing later, I have some gauze clamped in my teeth and am on the way home.

The thing is, now I really am impressed by the quality of the prop blood used in our LARP, but that is beside the point. For those of you who don't know, I have a fun combination of clotting issues that are at something a 1/1000000 chance. So, of course, I /bleed/...to the confusion of my hematologist and all involved, I bleed.

So we go back to the dentist, where he roughly stuffs the socket with packing material and instructs me to swallow the moutfuls of blood I am receiving courtesy of two holes in my jaw. What is fun here is that I am informed that moist teabags give off some chemical or other that assists in clotting. So I clamp two down and go to bed.

The next morning, the bleeding socket is clotted (cheers erupt)...and then two hours later, the socket above it, which had yet to bleed, opens up. This continues for a while until we run to the emergency room and are informed that it is 'normal'. So I go home and stick another teabag back there. Eventuall all is clotted and good.

Later, folks.
7:59 pm
so...imagine that you are a little girl learning how to ride a bike for the first time. you're scared and excited. you only wish that your parents were there to teach you instead of your older sister and your baby sitter.
you live in ohio and you're on a crowded little street, luckily there aren't any MOVING cars.
it's too bad that you're accident prone.
so, you whisk off on your little bike. yay! uh oh...you're approaching a car.
yes, a parked car. you turn the handles as hard as you can, but the bike keeps going straight.
lucky lucky. you've just hit a parked truck. nice going, dumbass.
Sunday, March 27th, 2005
8:56 am
Woo! I guess someone has to be first...
I'll share an old story. But, only because injuring little children is entertaining...?

Picture this:

Little blonde haired girl, 4 years old. Shopping downtown in Indy. Riding the escalator. I wonder where the hand rail goes? Oh fuck. Well, I'm sure I didn't think 'Oh fuck' at the time, but I would have. I know. Especially with my propensity to use the word 'fuck.' Anyways, you can't blame a 4 year old for their own stupidity. :-D So, money it is. I guess the best stories really do end with something akin to 'And, then I found $5.' Hah.

Did I mention I still have the scar? Oh yeah. But, its kinda cool. How many of YOU have third degree friction burns? :-D

There, ice broken. Post your damn stories. :-P
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