burn motha burn!

HELL YEAH!

Sorry. My Internet Explorer is having another one of it's 'give Anneliese hell!' phases, you know, where it lies (yes, my computer lies to me, the dagnagged contraption!) and tells Anneliese that a page cannot be displayed, when really it can and then when it does, it doesn't display itself without errors on it which prevent me from publishing. And we all know how Anneliese feels about lieing. And computers.

Anyways.

Mood: depressed, upon accepting reality that I am in Guelph Ontario as opposed to, say, Paris France.
Music: we don't need no watta let the motha burn! burn motha burn!

So this morning I freaked out on account of I thought there was a centapede in my pants.
Allow me to explain.
Once again I was one of the last GCVI rugby girls in the changeroom. As I made to gather my clothing off the floor I took note of a giant centapede unabashedly close to said clothing. I promptly removed said clothing from centapede proximity whilst chuckling to myself upon envisioning entire panty-clad rugby team running and screaming like morons due to giant centapede infiltration.
I attended practice, as thoughts of centapede drifted from my mind.
I returned from practice, donned my every day attire and exited changeroom only to notice peculiar lump situated near right hindquarter of form-fitting jeans... which according to my keen feminine instinct could only mean ONE THING --

OH MY GAWD THERE'S A GIANT BUG IN MY PANTS!!!!!!!!

I swear I actually felt it crawling!! So I braved the stairs battling sudden wave of panic and hyperventalation, and headed straight to the little girl's room as fast as my crisis-stricken hiney would allow, stormed into the nearest stall, whipped off my pants, AND--
...oops. It's just the inside of my pocket!! :-)

Silly me!

Well that's my story for you.

Ta Da!