Let's hear it for the boys!

So I go to the Caf today after class expecting to just eat by myself since it's almost 2:30, but the workers have already blocked off half of the tables for cleaning. So, I find the one familiar face in the room--my friend, Doug, from Called Out--and seat myself. Not 2 minutes later, there are 7 guys and me at the table--only 2 of which I actually know. I sat quietly for a moment, and they seemed to proceed as if they didn't care I was there, so I just sat and listened for a bit. It was like I was sitting in the middle of a hall in Hendricks. Girls, I don't know what they talk about when we're not around, but when we're sitting there as quiet listeners, this is it:

the love for chunky peanut butter
wusses who like creamy
wusses who like creamy PB&J sandwiches on Wonder bread
wusses who like the above with the crust cut off
feeding peanut butter to dogs and watching them deal with it
putting peanut butter on siblings' faces and letting the dog loose
the lack of creamy peanut butter in the Caf

Dispersed between these sub-conversations were comments concerning kayaking, polygamist communities, Washington's superiority over Oregon, bad journalism, hunting with Dick Cheney, driving with Ted Kennedy, and chunky butterscotch pudding that tasted like nothing at all.

If any of you guys ever actually read this, know that you supplied the entertainment to put a smile on my face for at least 24 hours. This is, in no way, a bad thing. I'm simply easily entertained and your conversation was a great contribution. Thanks guys!