1/2 of The Realests came home and pulled a Landon again. He was really being a douche: throwing my chair on the ground to wake up our neighbors, jumping on me while I was in bed, etc. But to his credit, he had a stroke of genius. He was sitting eating his Chicken Parm (for the third time in two days) when he threatened to throw a loaf of bread at my head. A man of his word, 1/2 of The Realests threw the piece and hit me in the nose. When I recovered, I look at the waste basket by my bed, to see the revolving top to be spinning like a dreidel. Before I had time to put the two together, 1/2 of The Realests had jumped up and showed me that the piece of bread had ricochet off my face into the trash can. Quite an accomplishment. Just when he thought he had reached his height of realesm, I chased him around with a ketchup bottle and he turned back into a Coot McCoot. It was a good night.