He Might Be British

I need to do my taxes. Yikes!

I had to work this morning, and though I don't remember falling asleep, I do have a vivid recollection of waking up.

After work, Thomas, Kristen, and I went to Chili's for food and drinks for Thomas and Me (those of legal age). Wow. I just realized I capitalized the word "me." How incredibly vain. I'd delete it, but it's amusing.

Stephanie met us on her lunch, and although she's of legal age, she did not drink. What a good example she sets. Drinking on your lunch break is usually frowned upon.

The funny moment of the day I wish I was there for:
Thomas was working drive-thru and apparently introduced himself as toe-MOSS. When the driver pulled up to the window, he thought he'd offended the man because he mistook him for a Hispanic guy. Well, as Thomas said, the guy was actually a Japanese or Vietnamese, with a scraggly beard. Yes. I'm still amused.

Check it out! Matthew (a momentary lapse of reason) and Manda (FuckBook) both mentioned me in their blogs. Woot!

Oh, and JR blogged. Scan for Britishisms, and you'll find the word "bloody." Bitchin! Also an obscure They Might Be Giants reference. Or just a cliche used in a TMBG song. Either way, it made me think of "Birdhouse in Your Soul."

However, Erica wanted me to blog about her, so I decided to Google "Erica lyrics" to see what came up. what I found were lyrics to quite possibly the worst song I've ever read. It's called, aptly, "Erica" by Greg Crowther.

Well, I know the sequence of the steps in glycolysis,
And I know how to catalyze an amide hydrolysis,
And I know the first forty digits of the value of pi.
I convert to Celsius without a thermometer,
And I know know to calibrate a light spectrometer;
I haven't figured you out yet, but I'd really like to try.

CHORUS:
Erica, Erica, I've been across America,
Studying all the way through.
But there's more to me than just esoterica --
There's lots of love for you.

Now I know every bone from the toes to the cranium,
And I know twenty-seven uses for uranium,
And I know what the ideal gas equation is for.
I can do PCR with help from Thermophilus,
And I know the reproductive cycle of Drosophila,
And I know you're in there, and I wish you would open the door.

CHORUS

Yes, I know the function of Wernicke's area,
And I know the tertiary symptoms of malaria,
And I know who coined the term "cell" -- it was Robert Hooke.
I know Newton's first and second Laws of Motion,
And I know the osmolarity of every major ocean,
But I don't know how to please you, so I guess I'll go back to my books.

CHORUS

And there's more! Check out these other science lyrics. They're sure to please ... uhh ... maybe the moms of the guys who wrote them.

I just learned the Associated Press style for blond/blonde. Good for me. I've earned my paltry wage these six minutes.

And now, not to be outdone, my math song about Erica. Yes, it's god-awful on purpose.

Erica, I long to integrate
Erica, it's you I'd like to date
Erica, I wish you'd be my mate
Erica, you and I equate

CHORUS:
You're the focus points of each ellipse
Erica, I'll give subtraction tips
Erica, I really like your hips
Erica, my heart's doing backflips

I have to ask you, baby, what's your sine?
Did I mention that you're lookin' fine?
I bet you're tired of this same old line
How about tomorrow night we dine?

CHORUS

3.14159 is pi
You're the circle of my radii
If given x and z, can you find y?
Oh Erica, I long to be your guy

CHORUS

Yes, if I were a shitty songwriter, I'd be a man. I'm just sayin'.