July 3, 2007: spade spade spade spade spade

(on sytycd eliminations)
dad: I know what this is. This is Aztec sacrifice rituals.
mum: No it isn't.
dad: It hearkens back to Aztec sacrifice rituals.

dad: Here I am, sitting up. M, the way you sat up conveyed everything that is the essence of sitting up....Who are we to judge?....

HW: Did you cheat or just pray?

MW: What are you working on?
dad: My toenails. That's all I'm working on right this very second. Maybe the gate a little later.

AS: My cat's always meowing at me for something. I'm like, 'I've fed you, I've petted you, I've let you outside, what more do you want? My blood?!....You want my soul, cat?!'...He probably does. Evil creature.

H: Everything I like exists; everything else is fake.
Ma: What philosophical school is that?
A: Yeah, I was going to ask.

M: What did he say?
A: 'Nice sweater.'
M: Oh, I heart 'Nice sweat.'
A: 'The lingering aroma...'
M: I'm like, 'I guess he was running...


//magnetic poetry
~by A
leave these father
century after my ice
winter night will yet moon
rise wet always solstice crescent
you were sun ask the next slice
what shower ebb with tide and sky
slow over equinox.

A: Don't you understand the eternal conversation?
C: The eternal conversation?
A: Between the moon and the stars! It's like...you know...The slice refers to something, I'm sure...

~by H
run from the
barren life
dark eternal cloud
feel dirt earth
you freeze rain
blossomless spring
I go this time
It was not bright
((turn him off))

A: Your poem makes sense. Stop that.//

H: WOooooo!
A: The film is not complete without a left-handed person.

A: La la la.
H: No singing at the table.
C: You're the reason we made up that rule.

H: 2%'s the cool way to go, by the way.
A: I get the feeling anything Hilary does is the cool way to go.
C: You don't seriously think so?
A:..No, it's her delusion.
C: But you agree with it?!
H: She wasn't agreeing.
A: I was observing. Purely in an anthropological way.

H: Mmmmmm....fungus.
A: That sounds so wrong.
C: It's like eating yoghurt and going 'mmmm...bacteria...'
M: Well, your body produces lots of bacteria perfectly healthily.
C: (stroking arms) mmm....bacteria....
A: (also stroking arms) I feel so dirty....
dad: Lichen is fungus and algae together.
C: That's...informative...
H: I knew that!

H: I think I'd be the only one to get through.
A: Yeah, if they were gagged and blindfolded and held at gunpoint.
H: That's the plan!
A: You form a terrorist organization whose sole aim is to get you through Canadian Idol!
H: Yes. ...I don't know how to respond to that.

H: Help.
C: Me.
A: If.
...
H: Oh, I didn't hear you, I was just laughing at her....watermelon.
A: What?
H: Help me if watermelon...I was mixing it up!
A: Help me if a giant watermelon comes attacking me with a spade!!!
H: What?!
A: Mixing it up!
C: 'Help me if a giant watermelon comes attacking me with a spade'? Who's going to write a song about that?!

H: I cried. On the inside. Tears dropping down from my int..
A: Brains.
H: Intestines.
A: Brains.
H: Intestines...It's on the inside.
A: Brains.
H: Oh, I thought you said 'fangs.'
A: It makes sense. You're a vampire: clearly you're crying because you've just killed someone.

A: The point of religion is to be like god. Godlike abilities....

A: It fell on the good side. The happy undead side.
C: The undead side?
A: If it fell on the other side it would have dead. Been.

t.v.: the lakes are too blue.
H's logic: They are blue b/c they reflect the sky, thus the sky is sick.
C: You'd think we'd have noticed.
A: Maybe it's happening really slowly.
H: Or really quickly!
A: And they don't want a widespread panic! They'd all be like 'We want out!' Going into space...
C: 'They'd all be like the astronaut farmer!!
conclusion: cycles of panic weed out the stupid hicks. Thus, utopia.
C: It's called 'Natural selection.'
A: Oh Darwin, you were so wrong...and the planet becomes an Eden-like place with fishes...
C: Why fishes? Why are fish the first thing you think of when you think of Paradise?
A: With fishes and birds...

////The Song:
~by H & A

Life is like a dry spell
With no heat
My eyes are scorched
From the bottom of my feet

Taxes are cheap
Watermelons are big
I just wish it did not have
a spade
(H: Because it(spade) almost rhymes with big!)

CHORUS: spade spade spade spade

I have tears in my eyes
My throat hurts
And seeds in my mouth
And blood on my face

That axe-wielding maniac
Is headed due south
I can't see his eyes his eyes his eyes
time flies

CHORUS: spade spade spade spade spade spade

H: Ok, it's only going to get worse, so we should stop.
A: Because it gets less spontaneous and more like we suck.

Tears, I'm crying
I feel like I'm dying
Because, seriously, why are we trying?

CHORUS: spade spade spade spade///

Miscellaneous Uncollected

S: I had a dream I was sleeping with a prof for marks. At least, I think it was for marks. I know I wasn't enjoying it; he was ugly. It was like taking one for the team, only I was the team.

A: Because I'm sad, I got Powerade. It's brightly coloured, and it sort of tastes of something.

A: She's(H) turned all the noises I made today into songs.

U: that classic Chatherine-Zeta-Jones look: I'm yours, you're mine, we are made for each other: sexy, yet fragile...

U: That's a terrible plan.
M: I can't remember what the plan was:
C: He has a plan?
M: Perhaps he jumps onto the car:
C: He jumps on with the horse? Ah.
U: That's a bad plan.

S: Ok female genitals, it's just you and me now.

S: The opening to the vagina is called a 'vestibule.' You don't see anything on a man called a 'foyer.' You can tell guys named these. 'Vestibule.' That's just so wrong.
Laura: Like, you could put a little doormat there.
S: Or a welcome sign.