next stop, over-played

Here are two jokes that are not funny:

1. Home, Jeeves. - said to the driver after the last person gets on the van in the afternoon.
2. Next stop, Georgetown. - said by the driver as we are pulling in to our parking area in the evening.

Seriously, these were mildly amusing the first time I heard them. But, after hearing at least one of them nearly every day for more than a year, I'm pretty much over them.

Pants revisited

This morning my pants ripped while I was on the van. I don't know how or when, I just looked down and saw thigh where I should have seen pants. (It's particularly annoying, since the pants are too big for me.) Anyhow, apparently today I would be interested in some pants.

Highway to Hell

This morning Kristi tried to give me a Bible. It was like one of those ones that Christian groups give out (or try to give out) at colleges and high schools, except with a black rather than green cover. She also told me that that "it might really help me." Now, I don't know what a good time would be to be proselytized by a crazy woman, but i can tell you with goddamn certainty that it's not before 7:30 in the morning.

She also tried to give a fellow vanpooler, Trent, a hideous king (or maybe wise man) bobble head doll. Among the many strange things about this woman is that her bag isn't really that big, and yet she has room for a knitting project that involves 3 rather large skeins of yarn, as well as the aforementioned bobble head doll, the small bible, and a DVD I've noticed her carrying around (i go back and forth imagining it's either Left Behind or The Rocky Horror Picture Show). Is a Scary Poppins joke too obvious?

Now, let me tell you the back story: When I got on the van this morning Kristi and Trent (the bobble head recipient) were discussing which lie was “worse for America’s youth,” the Clinton-Lewinsky lie or the WMD lie (this was at 6:40 in the morning). At the time I knew not to enter into this discussion, so I didn't until I heard this bit: "(George W. Bush) didn't lie, he didn't know what he was doing...he's a puppet. i think he's a good president and that he would be reelected if he were able to run again this year." I countered this assessment with something incredibly intelligent, like "there's no way, he's got historically low approval ratings and 80% of Americans think we're headed in the wrong direction. There's no way." Apparently this sentiment screams out "this girl needs saving."

I hope it's needless to say, but I declined the Bible. In fact, the more I deal with Kristi, I'm growing particularly proud of how politely I can decline something, especially considering that all of the offering happens before 8am.

I have one nagging thought about this, though. Which is worse the pants offer or the Bible offer?

Is that a giant neon cross on your church, or are you just excited to see me?

So, there's this church in Lakewood (about 20 minutes north of Olympia, for you out of staters) that's a got a giant neon cross on it that you can see from the freeway. The cross is surrounded by a blue neon tall arc with narrow base. On either side of the large blue arc surrounding the cross are small half-arcs. Basically, it looks like a neon cross encompassed by a large neon blue phallus, although from some angles it looks like a rocket ship. Either way, I find it really funny and find myself looking for it most afternoons.

pants follow-up

Just to clarify, I was not interested in Kristi's pants and quickly declined. I have no idea why she would actually offer them, but I have a couple probably wrong ideas:

1) She often compliments me on my shoes, maybe she feels my pants don't match up in quality/beauty?
2) She knits, maybe she also makes pants. Her knitting is hilarious, btw. She often runs out of yarn mid-project and rather than searching for the exact match, will switch to yarn that is close. Mittens that start out mustard colored and end up in more of a buttercup are quite distinctive.
3) She lives in a communal setting where they have a give away box, and maybe someone was liberating their closet of a lot of pants. Let me tell you, while I am not interested in hand-me-down pants from someone I only know from commuting, what I am even less interested in is hand-me-down pants from a stranger who lives in someone I only know from commuting's apartment building (or wherever she lives).

pants

20 minutes into the van ride Kristi turned around to ask me “are you interested in some pants”. Wtf?

Incubator?...I hardly know her

There's a building in Tacoma that is rather large and nondescript other than it's got the word incubator written in large letters on its front. Anyone know what they incubate?