nate can affect just about any accent out there, a talent which renders me strangely proud. you'd think i'd instead choose to be proud of, oh, maybe his natural ascendancy in flight school, but here's the thing: while i do not doubt that he is a phenomenal pilot (given that he is overarchingly Good At All Things), i like for my pilots to be anonymous entities. as opposed to, let's say, the entity who used to tell me to hold still so he could see how many knuckle punches administered in precisely the same spot on my arm were required to produce a visible bruise.
still. amazing with the accents.
noel has the bestest sense of humor, mostly because it is an exact replica of mine, which upon reflection is probably more eccentricity than ought to be unleashed on the general public at one time. we ought really to have been alive in separate eras (dibs on the seventeenth century). i have fond recollections of long car trips (clarification for anyone who did not grow up on a small island: long car trip means forty minutes, tops), the nonstop banter and singing pretty much rendering the ride indistinguishable from forty minutes of Last Comic Standing. except that we were sitting. with seat belts buckled. and the jokes were clean and we weren't on tv and also nobody with a healthy grip on reality was laughing. but other than that, it was EXACTLY THE SAME.
these here are the guys:
and also me being all 'froed out on the left because hey. someone had to sport the 80's poodle perm. it's cool, i've got it.
Pink Knitting Disaster Mark II
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