two tickets to iron maiden baby

The tiniestsprinter is in town! I’ve had very little awesomeness interaction with him thus far aside from a delish family dinner at Leaf in Boulder (mmm), where I got my mother to take this extremely memorable and relevant photograph:

photo (19)Yep, my brother is in town, I was with my mother AND father AND him – and the sole photo from the evening is this. We were attempting to prove that my arm automatically snaps to my neck when you take a picture of me. But, see that stuff on the very far left that sorta looks like smudges? That’s the edge of my shiny new tattoo.

photoSee? Fun huh. (Yes, this is sometimes what I do at work. Meh.)

Funny story about meh, while I’m thinking about it. On Sunday, the tiniestsprinter was driving into town from the superfantastic Portland Oregon. My dad called me mid-morning to ask if I’d heard from him, and I said nope, not yet.

Dad: “I texted him last night and he texted me back like an hour later, but it didn’t make sense. I couldn’t even read it. I think he was partying.”

Me: “That’s a definite possibility, unless he was racing in the morning.”

Dad: “Maybe we’ll have to stage an intervention while he’s here heeheehee.” Like he’s kidding but sorta serious, ya know? Good thing he doesn’t know how much I drink. He reads the tiniestsprinter’s blog three times as much as he reads mine, by his own admission, so he probably thinks Sam drinks three times as much. If he only knew.

So on Sunday afternoon I see my dad and he shows me this famous drunk sounding text message. It says:

Meh, the ride was ok. I’ll talk to you later about it me course.

*Ok thats not at all what it said, but that has the two relevant words.

The reason my dad thought my brother was drunk? Cause he’s never heard MEH before, and cause Sam’s phone switched ‘of’ and ‘me’, as phones are wont to do. I love my dad.

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