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Discolor Online

Weblog of the sweetest person you never want to piss off.

 

The Smirk

Pramas has it. He can't help himself. He'll tell you how authority figures throughout his youth would chastise him for his expression when he didn't even realize he was smirking. When I saw it today, I knew I was in trouble.

I should have suspected something earlier but I've been busy and distracted. When he suggested that we meet in the International District for lunch, I was pleased to have an excuse to break instead of working through my lunch as I have been all week. When I mentioned needing to check the bus schedule, he replied that he was hoping I'd bring the Flexcar as he had a "bulky package" that he didn't want to carry on the bus. This could have been a clue had I been interested to ask but I gave it no thought. It could have been a bunch of reference material, or something he'd picked up from Metropolitan Market for all I knew or cared. Sure, no problem, I'll bring the Flexcar.

After lunch, I announced that I had to be going because I needed to get back in time to finish some errands and pick up Kate to bring her to her dad's tonight. "And my bulky package!" Chris reminded. Right, the bulky package. I began to give this some slight thought only at this point. What could it be? Oh well, I would find out in a moment...

Jess pulled his car around to where I was parked. Chris got out, The Smirk in full effect. "What are you smirking about?" I asked. In response, he pulled this from the back seat:



Hard to tell from my quicky photo, I know, but that would be a framed movie poster from the Thai (?) release of The Killer. It's over three feet tall and over two feet wide.

I believe my first words, to Jess's great amusement, were, "What the fuck is that?" which I guess makes me somewhat the stereotypical wife in this scene (though in stereotype I'd be presented with a mounted moose head or Elvis lamp or something). Chris, laughing, said, "I told Jess you'd either think it was really cool or you'd punch me." Well, I didn't punch him... I just want to know where the hell we're supposed to put it as nearly every square foot of wallspace in our house is already taken up. Those walls that don't already have shelves mounted on them have framed Ars Magica art, Button Men originals, the framed cover for Into the Maelstrom (the Warhammer 40K anthology for which Pramas wrote the title story), a giant map of the known 40K universe, blah dee blah dee blah. Shoot, I have two substantial piles of framed award certificates that can't be displayed because we have nowhere to hang them.

The Smirk means trouble. Watch out for The Smirk!

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Anonymous Amy Jo Says:

Paul doesn't smirk, but he talks in a sickly sweet sort of way. It is usually met by a glare. And fyi, my blog is back up.

 

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