A song by Elliott Smith not so much about unrequited love, but about being loved by someone who loves you, but knowing they’re only in love with who they think you are. And that you can only ever fail them and hurt them. Even though you love them so truly that you don’t want to hurt them, even if that means you cannot be with them. But you still hurt them, just by being what you are, and by being lucky/unlucky enough to know them, and you’re hurt too. Maybe more deeply than you can handle. And all this you keep to yourself, because how could you ever tell them? How could you ever let them know who you really are?
Elliott Smith rarely played Pitseleh in concert, often dismissing it as too much of a “lyrics based song” when it was requested, though some have speculated that it was a rare example of a song too special or personal for him to be performed like his others.
French for "I eat the small children". Said by Phil Lester in the video "phil is not on fire". Completely necessary for any and every conversation you'll never have in French, and can ease up tension in any awkward moment.
"Parlez vous francais?" (do you speak french)
"uuuuhhh... je mange les petits enfants"
"..."
Trans-Pittsford Highway (aka Mendon Center Road) is a North-South road. People from Mendon Center use this road to pass through Pittsford as quickly as possible on their way to all points North. The road’s posted speed limit ranges from 40 to 50 mph depending on the section, though people typically go 55 to 60 mph on the road. At one point, just past the swamp (aka Autumn Woods development), one must screech to a halt as Pittsford soccer moms turn onto the highway from Barker Road at 10 mph and then turn off again a few hundred feet later at Willard (as in the rat) Road, again at 10 mph. Pittsford wouldn’t be so bad if you could just pass through it more quickly. All those little boxes tend to make Mendonians ill.
“I hate those Pittsford soccer moms. They pull out onto the Trans-Pittsford Highway in front of oncoming traffic and then drive incredibly slowly. It's almost as if they are daring us, "hit me, hit me.”
An instance where two individuals are out on a date and sit on the same side of the table/booth thinking that it is romantic when it in fact is and looks ridiculously stupid.