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So, I bet you all couldn't sleep last night from wondering how today went with the mooning of the cars and the mooning of the census lady and the throwing ice cream at children. I know how you feel. So, because of your weary efforts to know what's going on in my life, I'm going to reward your little tastebuds with what happened.

Only three of us could end up going; everyone else had last minute sports stuff and family reunions and the like. Us who actually went to this big shindig were me, Alana, and Carman.

So, we're walking down the street to Dairy Queen. It's kind of isolated, all the houses are small, and old, rusted drainpipes drape down the sides of the obviously scrap bricks that you could swear have dead bugs living in them. There's a small emo boy fluttering in the wind on the swings with his idle bicycle drearily draped beside him. We're happily prancing in the middle of the road. Hardly ANYONE actually drives down this street.

Turns out, today, a cop was driving down the street. And what's more, apparently it's ILLIGAL to walk down the middle of the road. Apparently it's even MORE illigal when you aren't walking in straight lines and you're seemingly laughing about nothing.

This cop, who's really fat by the by, turns on his big fucking siren behind us and as a result, besides jumping out of our own skin, we kind of shuffle politely to the sidewalk. We keep walking, because at the end of the day, we aren't really that rebellious and don't want to end up getting arrested or anything.

"You girls know you shouldn't be walking in the middle of the road, right?" he muffles through his shitty moustache laced with doughnut crumbs and coffee stains.

"Yes," we wearily reply. This isn't fun.

"That's what the sidewalks are for, after all." he seems really impressed with himself. His eyes look like they're sinking into his scrunchled face and pissy smile.

"There's not enough room for all three of us to walk on the sidewalk though," Carman stutters back. This doesn't help said pissy smile.

"If you're going to give me attitude," the cop tilts his head down and his aviators tumble from his sweaty, wrinkled forehead to his small, beady eyes. "we're going to have to take you in for a couple tests."

"Holy shit," Alana mumbles under her breath as he pulls out three pairs of particularily shiny, scratchy looking handcuffs.

"You're under arrest for being under the influence in public." his moustache cheekily waved from the top of a quivering lip. Then he took Carman first, and threw her on the hood of the cop car all mean and shit, and grappled her hands and snapped the cuffs around her and clumsily tossed her into the back of the car.

Alana quickly turned around as to NOT be thrown on the hood all mean and shit, but this didn't stop our little town's belugia whale of a cop. He lunged in and seized her skinny little wrists like a veteran snake charmer rescuing one of his prize cobras from escape and threw them into the clutches of the handcuffs and also threw her into the back of the then colourful cop car.

I walked over to the hood where I was hoping I WOULDN'T be thrown all mean and shit, but was anyways. Little marks line my wrists right now where said shiny, scratchy handcuffs sliced like razor blades by the evil, doughnut molesting cop. I was then forced to follow my comerades into the back of the cop car, where the door was ferociously slammed behind my head, clutching a few hairs into it's lair.

The back of the car smells kind of like sweat and vomit and mean and sterile and liquor. It's a short, but nevertheless painful ride to the similar smelling police station, where I phoned my mommy and phoned Chris and told them all about my lovely day. While we waited for my mother to pick us up from the evil, and did I mention fat cop, we took breathalizer tests and had to walk the little fking straight white line.

Both of which I now believe are stupid, pointless tests.

There's no way any human being can blow into a breathalizer for thirty seconds, whether they're currently under the influence or not. There's just no way. I think he kind of assumed that we were under the influence based on that we couldn't take the test, because all three of us openly concluded that 'it was too hard'.

Now for the little fking straight white line.

When you're kind of shaking based on that you know you are going to be grounded for a very very long time based on the fact that you've just been arrested, it's hard to walk a straight line. You can tell yourself to just put one foot in front of the other, but no amount of concentration can drown out 'you will not see the light of day for at least thirty years'.

Even though both these stupid pointless tests seemed to result in the fat, squinty eyed cop believing that we, in fact, were not under the influence in public, I still believe they're both very stupid and pointless and if you have to take them, you WILL be in trouble from your mommy and daddy no matter how much you love them. Also, it's hard to take these stupid pointless tests when there's a small mass of bald, drunken, saggy skinned, tattoed fifty year old men watching you take them from a caged vacinity, of which you understand you will be joining them in if you fail said stupid pointless test.

What's the moral of this story? DON'T WALK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, KIDDIES. YOU WILL BE ARRESTED.

Posted Jun 04, 2008 at 10:03pm

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    So, I bet you all couldn't sleep last night from wondering how today went with the mooning of the cars and the mooning of the census lady and the throwing ice cream at…

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About

my name is rebecca, but my bitches call me hank. i currently live in residence at the university of alberta. THREE HENDAY! as i type this, in the lounge, my floormates are constructing a stripper pole out of my roommates crutches. we stole a shopping cart. never sign up for friday morning labs. in high school i started a mosh pit in the gym. i once woke up after a party with red coontails across my bangs. i listen to my ipod for an average of 8 hours a day. i have an asian friend who said "me love you long time" to me before passing out on the floor. i love caffiene, especially cheap caffiene. on that note, i also love cheap alcohol and drink a lot of it. however, i will never do drugs. i want to get the following tattoo on my knuckles: bathtime is funtime. it annoys me when people complain about being "labelled"; people will stop labelling you when you stop giving a shit. i hate it when people take themselves too seriously. i will try something a hundred times just to make sure i don't like it. i used to have a ton of different hobbies but have no free time since i went to university. i love playing guitar. i love my bf jordan. the only thing on my bucket list is to one day be the singer of a screamo band called 'floored by four-thirty'. feel free to add me as a friend :]

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