this is a clip from the next ep, and it made my day.

today i kicked a squirrel on my way back from calc. it was a complete accident, as i was looking through my bag for my ipod, but it was traumatizing nonetheless. worse than the time i accidentally kicked that chicken.

i wasn’t sure if i should laugh or cry, so i played it off like i didn’t notice. looking back on that, i probably should have at least looked a bit concerned, since the squirrel did grunt upon impact and all.

grandpa: what is that stuff?
liz: it’s hummus.
lan: yeah, chickpeas.
grandpa: lemme have some.
lan: hummus doesn’t really go with your cinnamon raisin bagel.
grandpa: it tastes like cat food.

as written in an essay by a 3rd grader:
After we finished griling the hambergers, I yelled to my brother “Let’s eat Randy!”

as written in an essay by a college student:
Fishing is my scapegoat away from life.

oh, and as overheard during indoor recess:
I could never drink Red Bull. I can’t believe people like the taste of bull urine.

that is all.

Drinks manufacturer Dr Pepper have announced they will give a free can of the soft drink to every American – except former guitarists Slash and Buckethead – if Guns N Roses release ‘Chinese Democracy’ this year.

Q: what happens when the “O” in your residence hall’s sign for “SOUTH” disappears, making it say “SUTH?”

A: grab your friend sruthi’s mini stapler and staple remover, sneak over to northside, and steal their O (they were already missing their R and H). then sneak into the basement, take the underground hall to southside, and staple the stolen O back up. then run away.

Q: what happens when you find that the time has come to do your laundry, and you have to put in the very jeans you have on, and your other pair is already in the basket of dirty laundry?

A:
i would like to note that i am at college, and at college this is completely acceptable when you have no other pants to wear and it’s 50 degrees outside.

Q: what happens when you labor away making some cd’s for a friend and then, after placing the stamped and addressed package in the mailbox, find that half of the cd’s are still in your backpack?

A: walk all the way back to the college union to buy another envelope, then go all the way back to your dorm to buy another shipping label from the postal service (after arguing with customer service after it charges you for three instead of two), then write another letter explaining why you have sent your friend two packages, and then walk all the way back to the college union and send the second package.

today after attempting to dial my cell phone because i couldn’t find it, i got that “sorry, but your call can not be completed as dialed” or whatever recording. unphased, i tried again, because i sometimes dial to fast and mess up. it worked and i found my cell phone on the couch. then the doorbell rang as i was texting someone. i opened it up to find a police officer standing on the step. he asked me if everything was okay and if i needed help, because someone had dialed 911 from my house. considering both that i was the only one home and that i had dialed the wrong number once, i concluded that i was the idiot that called the friggin’ police. he told me to try to not do that again (although, i will admit this was the fourth time i’ve done it).

the weird part is, there are no nines in my phone number.

and in case you did not know, work isn’t really that boring (as long as i and the kids say hilarious stuff).

“kettle corn is better than popcorn. really. popcorn is the worst snack ever, i can’t believe your mom bought that junk. kettle corn is soooo much better in infinity different ways.” — our in-house expert on kettle corn, it seems. (it also seems that kettle corn is not actually a flavor of popcorn, as i had previously believed.)

“yeah, i’m going to have to ask you to not continue doing chin-ups on the refridgerator. thanks.” — lanni

so one day i wore some masking tape over a stain on my shirt (which was totally not my fault, btw). the kids were fascinated by it. so the next day…
kid: lanni, why are you washing your hands?
lan: i like to be clean.
kid: no you don’t, you like to cover things in tape.

“scooters are NOT weapons to be used in an establishment built on… niceness… and stuff.” — who else (that means me)

a tech-savvy kid tells me all about “heelies”, a fancy kind of shoe with a wheel in the heel (lol).
lan: oohhhh, so it’s like a roller skate?
kid: what’s a roller skate?

these are the moments that make me feel old. kids don’t use roller skates anymore? this saddens me.

and lastly, this [not] highly anticipated gem:
“OH MY GOD!!! IS THAT A WIG?!” — not one, not two, but three kids all shouted this to me at the same time when i took my hat off the second day. classic.

Okay, it was the longest game in history (1pm to 4:20pm) and we almost didn’t win, but it was a blast. Bottom of the second: I walked to first, stole second, and rounded third and took home, with a play at the plate and a slide (which gave me a painful abrasion on my leg, it kills). Bottom of the fourth: I struck out, but because of the dropped-third strike rule I ran to steal first and allowed an RBI. Bottom of the seventh (we only play 7): *see below.

*My mom called out the lineup… Allison, Lanni, Rachel. If you’ve seen the three of us bat, you’ll understand the comment I overhead in which my coach whispered to my other coach: “We’re screwed.” Allison got up at bat, but got a fly out. So then it was me. All me. The first pitch… foul. The second pitch… ball. The third pitch… ball. The fourth pitch… strike. And the fifth pitch… ball. I walked to first. I hopped onto the base and the first base coach says to me, “Your knee hurts, right Lanni?”, and he winks, in which I reply, “Oh yes coach, it hurts really bad. I don’t think I can run.” I obviously lied. I lied. I almost never lie. I did it for the team. I am the slowest runner on the team. I was replaced by Allison, who went on to making the winning run. Everyone loves me now.