You've probably noticed by now, dear readers, that there are two kinds of TEO pages: pages with a whole lot of art and not much text ("artsy" pages), and pages with a whole lot of text and not much art ("wordy" pages). The last few pages were artsy pages. This one, on the other hand, was scripted and drawn in great haste, with a growing need to move the plot along, so it turned out to be a wordy page. Please forgive me for changing gears on you so drastically. (Still, though, it's good to see what Lloyd's doing again. He's one of my favorite characters to write dialogue for, so expect more wordy pages coming soon…)
I'm finally back from my Thanksgiving college search around the American South. Thanksgiving itself was sort of an ordeal– we went to a popular roadside restaurant with locations all over the South that I won't name here, due to their lawyers possibly crushing me like a bug (hint: name rhymes with "Smacker Blarrel") We actually had to skip over the first one we found, what with it being in Daytona and stuffed with large, loud, dorky-sweatshirt-wearing NASCAR fans.
…Anyways, when it came time to order, I ordered beef stew for a change of pace. (I was originally going to order off the breakfast menu, but I figured that, if I did, I would never hear the end of it from my parents.) The stew came lukewarm, bitter-tasting, and with maybe three small lumps of beef total. The stewed carrots were flaccid and unfortunate, and the corn muffins didn't taste like corn muffins, corn bread, corn, or indeed anything I've ever eaten ever.
Overall, the meal was a bust, and so for the rest of the meal my dad kept asking me, "D'you want something else? Beef? Turkey? French toast? Taquitos? Peanut brittle? Fruit salad? A deviled egg?" And so on for about half an hour. Looking back, I guess he was concerned about my well-being, but then I was tired, and I had just eaten a bad meal, so I fought him about it, saying I didn't need anything else. I figured, hey, why spend more money, especially in the same stupid restaurant that screwed up my first meal? Soon it turned into this big thing, but eventually I relented, and we stopped by a nearby McDonald's. I got a McChicken Sandwich off the dollar menu. It tasted okay, though there was a slight aftertaste of guilt.
But forget that crap. The trip was okay otherwise. And now I'm back, and I'm not stuck in the car anymore, and I'm a little late with this entry (but I hope you can forgive me for that), and I just got Beck's new CD from Costco (Spin magazine said it was "his best work since Odelay", but I wouldn't give The Information that much credit. It's darker than the two other albums of his I own– not as funky as Odelay, not as playful as Guero– and it's driven mostly by drums and bass, giving all the songs sort of a similar feel. Not a bad album at all, but somehow I expected more), and I think there's pizza waiting for me downstairs, so I'll sign off for now.
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