Pond Fish Plants Fountain

As many very important historians have said: "The pond we made in our backyard is complete." There are four fish in it. Ken-Ichi, Sumo, Akira Kurosawa, and Sake.

Want to hear a sad story? We were looking for a fish to name Sake. We were looking for one that swam a little drunkenly. There it was, swimming sideways, upside-down, in circles, making Andrew laugh. It was clearly drunk, or "differently abled." Either way, it fit the name. Then the salesman told us that it was dying of a rare and horrible disease, and he stuck his paws in the tank and grabbed it. He dropped it into a bucket, and it stopped swimming drunkenly. It stopped... swimming... *sob*. I'm sorry! I just... *breaks down*

So! Then we picked up a few other fish. Two are Koi, two are Comets. Two are orange and white, two are yellow and black and white. We tried to take pictures of them, but they are all ninjas and were impossible to find once we put them into the pond. Then a squirrel ventured near the water, and it suddenly toppled into the water with a splash. It was dead, and Ken-Ichi killed it with a sword.

Here are some pictures we did take:



Ken-Ichi is on the right. Sake is on the left (The second Sake, not the first one, who is dead now.) Ken-Ichi is a killer, you can see it in his eyes.



Und here is our pond. Andrew made the fountain out of some junk he found around the house. Jesus made the plantalia. Neptune controls the waves.

Blip blip?

The Rubix Cube Party

It was a couple of weeks ago, but there's been enough procrastination. The next party is tonight, so the blog must go on.

The Rubix Cube party concept is simple. Everyone dresses in all six colors of the Rubix cube. By the end of the party, everyone must try to be dressed in just one color, by trading articles of clothing with other partygoers. So they started out:



Was it mentioned that this was an 80's Rubix Cube Party? Well it was. And Maggie and Evan came too:



Andrew is sad that he missed being a fashion-conscious person the 80's. *sniffle* He does remember seeing French cuffs in the house growing up, however. And memorizing the lyrics of Ice, Ice, Baby. And an odd leg-warmer or two. STOP. Collaborate and listen.

Things went well. It was at least a four-way tie. Shorry about the mesh.



There were other people at the party, too. They're just not pictured. Well, here, here's a picture of them:



Piper Perabo is just an acquaintance.

Tonight? The Olympic party. Also? They're putting fish and plants in their pond, and then they'll post about that too. Thanks for playing!

Gimme More

Oh by the way... Andrew dropped out of school last week. Two weeks ago? Recently. Nursing, it seems, was indeed right up his alley, but as chance would have it "his alley" was, due to some unfortunate error by the United States Postal Service, not, in fact, his alley after all. Turns out he lives somewhere rather closer to his current location. That sounds too simple, actually. His heart just wasn't in it.

So what, everyone asks him, are you planning on doing now?

Well, before he answers, he would like to remind the reader that this question arises not from the depths of your soul where tricky concepts like "truth" and "passion" lie, but comes instead from the relentless ad-driven multinational consumerist terrorist nine-to-five power suit world we live in. So get off your high horse and get in touch, dude, because Andrew has decided to be a professional hippie. He already owned a pair of Birkenstock sandals and has been seen on multiple occasions in a sarong.

So, as a professional racecar driver, what can friends and family be expecting from Andrew in the next few years? Medals a'plenty. Drinking milk. Flame-retardant fashions. And if the astronaut thing doesn't work out, he'll land among the stars. There are only four hackers in the world who can get into myspace and steal ur background, and he is one of them. He and his manager have already set up a seven-state tour of to-the-death duels, and his opponent gets to choose the weapon each time. If not him or Raffi, who will save the baby belugas?! In the deep blue sea?!

In conclusion, he will be spending his mornings writing stories, because that's something he enjoys and has always dreamed of doing. He'll be happy to autograph any copies of any books he manages to get published, but suggests that time spent counting chickens might be better spent sending good vibes his way, cause those eggs have only just been laid.