The Holyrood Huddle

road apples

High Fives Pour Nouvelle Brunswick

C'est ripped comme heaven.

A pitcher of Alpine in randome NB,

after tedious wickedness sur l'ile de Montreal,

50Cent veggie samosas,

les delicious bagels, et plusieurs pommes frites.

Tamil Tiger protests, closed streets and

4 heures without actually finding the exit to the city.

Quebec City looks sick.

Phil's all about touching butts. But Tom requested we get

3 separate beds.

A much better idea, I say.

And so do you all . . .

Paul Blart>Star Trek>Star Wars

Hello friends, I was just wondering when exactly Tom, Phil and Luke will actually be ariving in St. John's, NL. Jacob and Micheal are giving me conflicting information and since they're both idiots I tend not to believe either one. Some good news to report, the BBQ located at 293 Lemarchant is working again, looks like myself and Tom are so handy that we can fix things without even realizing it. As for the title of this post I would ask that all arguments be held until they can be made in person. Sue and Jill are free to debate though since they won't be home.

The Passing of a Dog

It is with sadness that I register here the passing of the dog Ellie. Some of you may have fond memories of her from Winthrop, where she routinely disrupted moving watching and hanging out with hysterical barking fits. Others may recall her from trips to St Philips and other locales.

She was an old dog: at 14, she had a stroke and her tongue started to hang out of her mouth though it denied predictions by never drying out; by 15, her fat-to-skeleton ration bottomed out at an alarming 0:100; by 16, her last year, she had difficulty living. But we all know that life was never the same for her since her male companion, Smithers, was put down. Smithers first met Ellie when she entered a room he was in and her tried to rape her. Although humans interceded on her behalf then, we will never know what carnal delights these two rambunctious canines enjoyed when home alone. In addition to her noted thinness, Ellie was easily recognizable by the large cists on her back and by the ever-decreasing number of teeth in her head. She had all the joie-de-vivre of a syphilitic nun, and was similarly clad in stylish black and white.

She was put down by my mother on my mother's birthday, sadly for all involved.

Labels: Ellie, Smithers

By the by

So this is usually Cory's bag, but, you know, I'm feeling very Cory-like these days (watching baseball, bein' wicked). So what's everybody got on the go this summer?

Phil & Tom are booked on the ferry to hit the west coast at the dawn of June, and I may, indeed, be accompanying them. If not, I'll be making my way up there in early June for Danielle's wedding and general Tom Crosfoolery.

Jacob, last I heard, was pining for Albanians' hairy armpits and planning a trip to Greece.

Brad is already on a sort of vacation. . .

Matthew, I assume, will get vacation in 2010 (or has already earned 6 weeks). And everyone else, I got nothin'

Hinch? Cory? (did they finally get sensed-up and lay you off, proper?) Salama? Fill us in.