Monday, April 7, 2014

A Bike by Any Other Name Would Look as Sick

Conference was great, wasn't it? I feel we should expect a wave of
persecution. At least hat is the vibe I got from all the talks this
time. I have never had mashed potatoes thrown at me, but I have had an
apple core. Luckily, nobody understands the physics of a moving car,
so they always miss.

In between sessions, Gillies and I painted our bikes. We did our tires
white, his rims blue and mine red. They are exceptionally sweet.
People notice us more now.

We lost our dinner calendar, so we have been eating with random
members of the ward. Luckily people like us. If this had happened a
few missionaries ago, they may not have been fed.

There is a street we went down last night. A street. It is definitely
on the wrong side of the tracks. In fact, it is the only street on
that side of the tracks. Abandoned houses, screaming unwashed
children, a bunch of gangsters, really loud Mexican rap from lowered
trucks, the whole deal. We have a less-active that lives there we are
going to start meeting with.

We moved a couple of people this week. One was particularly
unpleasant. Us and the high priests moved a family out of their
apartment. The apartment smelled like rotten food. They invited their
friends over, presumably to watch because that's all they did. So we
moved a dirty, stinking apartment while being watched by a bunch of
obese, smelly, smoking people who have obviously spent to much time in
Portland. They somehow masterfully combine hipster chic with white
trash lifestyle. And don't even get me started on the massive
collection of movie themed swords.

We met this guy who fishes in Ellis Lake every day. They caught a
piranha the other day that someone let go. There are some fish in
there that are twenty pounds. I think the only reason they get so big
is because everybody is afraid to eat them. That lake is gross.

Quote of the week: "The only time I ever felt true love was looking
over my parents grave. That love is eternal."

- Elder Hyde

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