Sausage = Happiness, and more

So Elliot has the COOLEST job. He takes pictures for a newspaper and he got to go see these lovely ladies and their sausages. Ladies love the sausages.



I wish my Grandma was a sausagefiend like this woman. On second thought, no, I take back that wish and regret saying it. Let us forget that ever happened. I do like how her rubber gloves match her apron. The lady before is wearing 1 blue glove, 1 clear - Michael Jackson style. I don't exactly understand what they are doing, but then again, I've never really had close contact with sausage before. (I'm talking about the breakfast meat you sicko). So yeah, Elliot got to be in that room with those happy women, and their big knives and big phallic meat sticks. LUCKY !

Then there is this guy: who apparently makes a scrunch face instead of smiling. He looks like he writes the fortunes in fortune cookies.

So technically, I'm grading finals right now. I've barely gotten through a single grade sheet in the past 2 hours! That is some kind of AWESOME! Urgh, only 5 more after this... BUT THEN I HAVE TO GRADE THE EXTRA CREDIT. Uch these whores and their extra credit. Maybe some people just aren't meant to be engineers... HINT HINT idiot who fails everything.

Right sorry, I was dorking out there for a minute. Much after this other stuff was written, I sit down to write again:
Today was full of excitement - I got a new laptop which I am now using, I saw my grandma and my fam, I went searching for rain boots with my sis, and then I had a mini middle school reunion at some bar in Towson. Towson is like a magical place where people who you never expect to see together again suddenly appear in a dreamy drunken MESS. Uch I am a mess, definitely. I am at home without my Pearce, and I miss him terribly. After the bar/middleschool disaster we went to The diner and Becca and I shared spanakopita and that was amazing.
Now I am having all kinds of issues because I thought I understood what I was doing, how people were perceiving me, and then it got all mixed up. You know when suddenly you find out that people, as in most people who know you, think a certain thing about you, and you didn't even know that about yourself? And it's really shocking, and confusing? And you want to fix it, but you don't even know where to begin, because you never even realized it was happening in the first place? That is SO vague, I apologize!!! UCH NO WAIT WAIT WAIT THAT JUST GOT REALLY Livejournal-esque eww blech vommmmm.

Moving on. We thought of a really good idea. Well rather, Elliot at one point had demanded the pizza doctor come to treat him, but less eloquently than that. And now, I demand a pizza ambulance. Doesn't that just seem like a really good marketing tool for one of those pizza delivery places, like umm domino? or papa john's?! I SHOULD SELL THAT TO THEM! Then I can retire, and use my earnings (and a lifetime of free pizzas delivered via pizza ambulance) to live a fulfilling life which consists of shopping and the gym. Sigh, could life be any more excellent?
Let me introduce you to the pizza ambulance schematic:
See how it says pizza backwards? Just like a real ambulance? So you can only see it in the mirror? eh? eh? AWESOME!!!

QUICK HELP I NEED A PIZZA AMBULANCE