April 1, 2010
quote out of context
Countries do not exist where I am from. The discovery of the Higgs boson led to limitless power, the elimination of poverty and Kit-Kats for everyone. It is a communist chocolate hellhole and I’m here to stop it ever happening.
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Ah shit, Deron’s in Switzerland again.
You’d think they’d revoke his visa.
imperialists!
Police are baffled, but not that bothered.
Deron’s just pissed because, in the future, all the chocolate is orange flavored.
dessertless imperialists!
Umnh, Michael? You might want to be careful. I’m just warning you, seeing as how you’ll be meeting Deron at clusterflockstock.
Deron takes dessert seriously. The last night I was in Dallas on my ‘estate settlement’ trip, Deron and Amy and I went to dinner at a lovely restaurant called Hattie’s. And we three agreed we’d share a dessert.
Six items were listed on the dessert menu. Deron noted that only two were proper desserts and challenged me to identify them. It wasn’t difficult.
There was — well, you know (and you do) — this. There were two of them, in fact. There was a nasty aspect (I forget what) to a third item, and then there was a fourth that seemed almost-all-right except for the inclusion of an element I’d only recently learned repels Deron.
So I was narrowing down the options, and in referring to Option #4, I said, “Now this would be fine were it not for the c_c_n_t _c_ cr__m.” Only I vocalized the vowels. And Deron got this look on his face. It was kind of like this, but scarier. A lot scarier. No. Not exactly scary. Dreadful. A look of pain and rebuke and reproach suggesting he’d suffered a profound betrayal. It was almost Christlike. Imagine a really irritated Christ tacked up there on the cross. Fixing to spit.
The look passed, and Deron asked whether I had noticed it. He explained that he hadn’t been angry at me but that he just could not help himself once I had spoken aloud of . . . that frozen confection that repels him. I was dumbstruck for a few seconds; then we ordered an acceptable dessert.
So I am just telling you, Michael: Deron takes dessert seriously. Very seriously.
this is my favorite comment concerning my christlike aversion to citrus desserts ever.
I’m pretty sure I’m autistic.
Remember, people: every time you take a bite of Key lime pie, you drive a nail into Deron Bauman’s palm.
God damn it, Sheila, now Deron thinks he’s Jesus.
Also, what the fuck does coconut have to do with citrus? I ask you that.
jesus.
giggidy
Ambrosia (ἀμβροσία). Food of the gods. Citrus and coconut.
You’re an enabler.
I feel kind of sick now. I spoke of the bad things. And that damn recipe just turned my stomach.
Best thing for a sick stomach is nice lemon sorbet.
Or a nice margarita!
I’m seeing that look of Deron’s on the back of my eyeballs.
Don’t let him scare you, Sheilababy. Sure, he’ll get that look. He might even spit violently into your sink while an Englishman looks on in horror. But he’s gentle as a guy who’ll hack off a dead swan’s head and deliver it to a girl’s door can be.
He’s a good man to have on your side at the dump. I know that much.
I just booked Denver. I’m looking forward to not eating coconut ice cream with Deron.
it’s a date.
I’m pretty sure I’m autistic.
The moment I read your comment, Deron, I swear I saw artistic, which seemed so much more appropriate to me.
I’m pretty sure I have a mild, mild form of assburgers.
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