No spoilers
Butch:
MAN that was a long concert. I left to take Meatball to band practice at 430, hung out there cuz it was the other side of town, went straight to the high school concert, got home at 930. 930! Dudes. Band dudes. Like, dudes.
And chorus. There was chorus there, too. I bet the plot twist is the head of the Order is the CHORUS director!
930.
But the finale (combined band, orchestra and chorus, lot of kids) was the theme to Civilization 5, which I think is still the game I've put the most hours into in my life, so at least I can mention video games today.
But that's all I got.
Loothound:
Wow, five hours, that's a lot of school musicy stuff. The band camp conspiracy plot is to steal all of parents' precious time. One lone teenager's quest to save the sanity of parentkind.
My day has been a shit show since the starting gun, and it's not looking like it will ease up. When the end of the day comes I'm going to be racing home like my hair is on fire. Not that I have hair to be on fire…that's just a metaphor.
Butch:
Much of the "music" was just that: End of the year self congratulatory awards and in jokes and "Oh how we'll miss the seniors, we'll never be this sad again until next year's seniors graduate."
You know the drill.
Feminina:
I've been doing research on an old graduate (now long deceased) who either has the same name as another person born a few years earlier, or is the same person but dropped some years from his age while in school for presumably sinister purposes.
I'm obviously rooting for the latter, but it will be hard to prove using 1920s census data.
Butch:
I'll root for anyone with sinister purposes.
T SHIRT!!!!!!
I can barely handle laundry. And shopping.
Though I did have the amusement of running into banana man's cousin at market basket. Dude had nothing in his cart but a tiny half pint of raspberries and 57 pineapples. I know it was fifty seven because he had seven cartons of eight and one more, just to piss off the cashier, it seemed.
I'm sure whatever he's making, those raspberries are going to fucking MAKE it!
Feminina:
"One raspberry per pineapple seems about right..."
Butch:
Probably why he got the extra pineapple.
"Shit, there are 57 raspberries in here. The fuck will I do with that extra one?"
Feminina:
"Can't let it go to waste! And there's no way I'll be able to eat it plain."
Butch:
Makes perfect sense.
Will we still be this nuts if and when BG3 arrives?
Feminina:
It'll be summer, so all bets are off.
Loothound:
He's going to carve some pineapple figures, and the raspberries are just for the nose. Either that, or something trendy bizarre-ass summer drink called the Tipsy Fruit Viking, or something.
Also, as warm as it is, might as well be summer now.
Butch:
I'm hiding inside. Every time I've gotten in my car today, I've had to spritz the windshield to get rid of the fine yellow coating of pollen.
Ugh.
Poor Nugget looks like he's been pepper sprayed.
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