ƒnƒCƒ‰ƒCƒg‚Í"little did I know"

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How I met your mother ƒV[ƒYƒ“1yŒ´‘čzMilk

Narator: Kids, life is a dark road. You never really know what's up ahead. One night you're cruising along enjoying the ride, and then all of a sudden, you're 28.

what's up ahead Œü‚ą‚¤‚ÉŒŠ‚Ś‚é‚͉̂˝‚ž

Waitress: And for the birthday boy, lasagna.

Ted: Thank you.

Waitress: Careful. The plate is very hot.

Ted: 'Kay. Oh, go on, touch it.

Lily: Ah! Sweet damn, that's a hot plate.

Ted: All right, so, Barney, are you doing this or what?

Robin: Oh, geez, Barney, don't do this.

Barney: I have to, it's my birthday present to Ted.

Marshall: You don't have to. Please, it's going to be embarrassing and we're going to have to stop coming here, which will suck... in addition to probably being kind of healthy.

Ted: Come on, Marshall, it's the greatest pickup line of all time. Barney.

Marshall: Oy, gevalt.

Oy, gevalt ƒCƒfƒBƒbƒVƒ…ŒęOh, God!

Barney: Ah... Happy birthday, Ted.

Ted: Whoo-hoo!

Barney: Uh, excuse me, has anyone ever told y... Oh, my God.

Woman: What?

Barney: Oh! Call an ambulance!

Woman: What's going on?

Barney: Try not to speak. Here, sit down. Just don't talk, don't talk.

Waitress: Is she okay?

Barney: I'm serious, call 911.

Woman: What's wrong? What's the matter?

Barney: Shh! Shh! Just don't move. Don't move. Just try... Here, have some water. Water! Here, drink this. Shh! Shh!

Robin: You know, the more I watch this, the less convinced I am that it's the greatest pickup line of all time.

convinced ŠmM‚ľ‚Ä

Ted: Wait for it.

Lily: 28. Two more 'til the big one, three-oh.

Narator: Actually, my 30th birthday wasn't so bad. Well, except for the goat in my bathroom. Which is a great story. But I'll get to that later.

Lily: Still, you know, another year older. Still single. You don't hear your Tedological clock ticking?

another year older ‚Ü‚˝ˆę‚”N‚đ‚Ć‚é

Ted: Nope. I hit the snooze button.

snooze ‹–°‚č

Robin: And here come the paramedics.

paramedic ‹~‹}ˆă—Ă‘ŕˆő

Barney: Oh, thank God, you're here.

Paramedic: What is going on?!

Barney: I think there might be some internal bleeding. Probably some fractures. We got to get her to the hospital.

fracture œÜ‚ˇ‚é got to `‚ľ‚Č‚Ż‚ę‚΂Ȃç‚Č‚˘

Woman: What are you talking about?

Barney: You've had a terrible fall.

Woman: No, I haven't.

Barney: Really? 'Cause I could swear you fell straight out of heaven. Angel... Give him your number. What? Give him your number. What?

All: Give him your number.

Barney: Come on, guys, you're embarrassing me.

All: Give him your number.

Barney: What are you...? Come on. They're not going to stop 'til you give me your number.

Woman: All right!

Barney: It works!

Marshall: I cannot believe that she gave him her number.

Robin: Maybe she really does have a brain injury.

Barney: Thank you, everyone. Thank you, everyone. It's been fun. It's Wendy the waitress. Tip her well. Thanks a lot, guys. Troilus and Cressida. Neighborhood Playhouse. Check them out, they're good.

Playhouse Œ€ę

Ted: I realize why I'm still single. I'm picky. I'm not going to settle. If I'm going to marry someone, she has to be perfect.

picky ‚Ś‚čD‚Ý‚ˇ‚é

Lily: Well, what's perfect?

Ted: It's not like I have a list.

Robin: Oh, yes, you do.

Ted: Attractive, college-educated, she wants two kids-- a boy and a girl...

Lily: That's not hard. I know at least...

Ted: I'm not done. She likes dogs, Otis Redding, does the crossword. She's into sports, but not so much so that her legs are, like, more muscular than mine. That weirds me out. And she plays bass guitar like Kim Deal from the Pixies.

muscular ‹Ř“÷‚Ě‚Ş‚Á‚ľ‚č‚ľ‚˝ weird`out `‚đ•s‰ő‚Č‹C•Ş‚É‚ł‚š‚é

Marshall: Or Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth.

Ted: Any Kim from any cool band, really. Can't be too picky.

Lily: You're never going to find this girl.

Ted: Exactly. So I'm just going to wait for her to come to me. I am done trying to plan the unplannable.

Marshall: So, what, you think fate's just going to take care of it?

fate ‰^–˝

Ted: That's the plan.

Narator: And little did I know, at that very moment, fate... in the form of a 600 gigahertz superprocessing computer... was taking care of it.

little did I know ‚ť‚Ě–â‘č‚Ş‚Ç‚ń‚Ȃɐ[‚Č‚Ě‚ŠAŽ„‚É‚Í‚Ü‚Á‚˝‚­‚í‚Š‚ç‚Č‚Š‚Á‚˝

Ted: Whoa, you're up early.

Lily: Yeah, thought I'd whip up some pancakes.

whip up Žč‘‚­ě‚é

Ted: Does Marshall know?

Lily: He's still sound asleep.

Marshall: Awesome. So awesome. God! Best girl ever. Screw these pancakes, I should cover you in syrup and gobble you up.

gobble up ƒKƒcƒKƒcH‚ׂé

Ted: Please don't do that. Hey, is this milk any good?

Marshall: Oh, yeah, that totally got me yesterday.

Ted: God, why didn't you throw it away?

Lily: I'm going shopping after work. I'll pick up some milk.

Marshall: Oh...! These pancakes are delightful.

delightful ‰ő“K‚Č

Lily: What's wrong, baby?

Marshall: This is the high point of my day.

Narator: It was true. See, Marshall had always dreamed of using his law degree to protect the environment. But he needed money for the wedding, so he'd been interning for two months at Barney's firm... and he hated every minute of it.

requisition ż‹‚ˇ‚é‚ą‚Ć

Marshall: Hey, Barney, I had some questions about filling out these requisition forms.

minute ‚킸‚Š‚ČŽžŠÔ

Barney: Binoculars. Second pair on my desk.

Binoculars ‘oŠá‹ž

Marshall: I don't have time to be creepy, dude. I have a lot of work to do.

creepy ‹C–ĄˆŤ‚˘ ‚Ţ‚¸‚Ţ‚¸‚ˇ‚é

Barney: Just take a look, will ya? Okay, corner office. Top floor. Check out that guy. Name's Clark Butterfield. He works over at Nicholson, Hewitt and West and every morning, he orders a sandwich from the deli downstairs.

Marshall: So?

Barney: So guess what I did to that sandwich? Here, I took a picture.

Marshall: Oh! Sweet Lord.

Barney: And now I'm e-mailing said picture to him.

Marshall: Ooh! Duck! That is sick! Why would you do that?

Barney: Who knows? This feud goes so far back I can't remember who fired the first shot.

feud •s˜a‚É‚Č‚é

Marshall: You?

Barney: Totally. Well, look, if you would just... help me fill out these forms, that would be great.

Marshall: What?

Barney: Butterfield is going to retaliate within the next four hours. That's been his pattern. This is war, Eriksen. I need you to clear your schedule, call Lily, tell her you'll be home late.

retaliate Žd•Ô‚ľ‚ˇ‚é

Marshall: This is stupid.

Barney: Stu... Come on, man, I didn't recruit you to work here for your lawyering skills. I recruited you to be my executive mischief consultant.

mischief ‚˘‚˝‚¸‚ç

Marshall: This is a job for me, Barney. It's a way to make some extra wedding money, and that's it. Now I'm sorry, but I have work to do.

Barney: Tracy, could you come in here, please? Would you please inform Mr. Eriksen that I'm no longer speaking to him.

Tracy: Mr. Eriksen, Mr. Stinson is no longer...

Marshall: I get it. Thank you, Tracy.

–Ŕ‚˘

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