[Early one morning]
The Boyfriend: I can't find any matching socks! Damnit what happened to all my socks!?
The Bird: Just wear odd socks. Who cares!? I do it all the time...
The Boyfriend: Yeah, and you look like a hobo!
[Later that same night]
The Bird: [romantically] Give me your hand.
The Boyfriend: But it's got my beer in it!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Happy New Year, F*ckers
Given how drunk I managed to get myself this past NYE, it seems obvious that I must have slipped and fallen into a wormhole sometime during the night only to emerge in an alternate 2009 wherein there exists the book pictured left.Yes, you are not imagining it. This is a novel in which Star Trek meets the X-Men. From what I hear, adventure & romance ensue!
I cannot wait to read it. I hope it is awesome! It had better be because I am going to get a lot of shit from The Boyfriend for reading this. The Boyfriend likes books that were written within the last 10 years about normal people who are not mutants or space dudes. He thinks the prime directive has something to do with house-painting. He almost called off our engagement when he caught me reading the Sookie Stackhouse books, but this is way, way, way more worse-er.
Apparently, Picard and Xavier have a scene together where they joke about how they look identical - because they are both Patrick Stewart. That is, like, so post-modern!
Dude.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Retardo?
So, recently, The Boyfriend and I traveled to Washington DC for the weekend. We took the Bolt Bus, which is pretty cool! It's all WiFi and plugging-things-in and whatnot. Very 2.0.
On the way there, the BF watched a documentary we'd rented from Netflix. It was about a Hippy Farmer who, I dunno, did some farming and did a bit of cross-dressing somewhere in, god - who can remember? - Iowa. While this enthralling docu was being watched, I took a nap and had some weird dreams about - shit, who cares? - pirates or giant bugs or whatever it is I dream about on buses.
Anyhoo... when we got back from our Weekend (I might add that we both had allergic reactions to Our Nation's Capital - something to do with "stink berries" if I'm to believe our gracious hosts), I grabbed the Netflix DVD, shoved it in the envelope thingy, and mailed it back.
Then I found the DVD.
Turns out, I had accidentally sent a completely different disc back in the envelope. For the detail-oriented, it was a CD by a band called "Avail" and it belonged to The Boyfriend. (Though not pleased, he was not overly miffed. He's nice.)
As I'm wont to do, I delayed actually doing anything about this hiccup. My plan was to put the correct Netflix CD in a regular envelope and send it back to them with my apologies for being so unobservant and space-sproket-y and whatnot; but of course I never got round to it.
Listen, I'm busy! I got shit to do and not enough time, etc.
[As John Fowles might say at this point: Are you enjoying this? I hope so!]
A couple of days ago, I received an envelope from Netflix. Not the standard Red thingy, but a plain, white contraption, addressed to me; ominous. I opened it to find the Avail CD in the regular Netflix envelope for the movie we'd rented - it was called "The Real Dirt on Farmer John" in case anyone cares... Thing was, the CD was all smashed up into bits.
Was this intentional?
Think about it.
How often do Netflix DVDs get smashed into bits in transit?
If it happened often, poor Netflix would be out of business.
So, I asked myself (and The Boyfriend - because, while talking to oneself may be the only way to ensure intelligent conversation, it's also the first sign of madness. Go figure.), did Netflix do this intentionally?
The only way to know is to call their customer service dept and find out (stay tuned for tomorrow's blog: "In Which We Call Netflix Customer Service To Find Out What Is Up With That"); but I hope it's not some retaliatory measure! Am I "projecting" or was that kinda passive-aggresive? The CD I accidentally mailed to them is worth more than the DVD I was supposed to send. Meanwhile, we have Roku'd the CRAP out of things, but have not received any more DVDs.
Man, I hope it was just a coincidental accident!
[glances at nearby shelf]
Oh - I see several unreturned NetFlix on that nearby shelf...
Sorry, Netflix!
I love Ruku, by the way. Neat!
On the way there, the BF watched a documentary we'd rented from Netflix. It was about a Hippy Farmer who, I dunno, did some farming and did a bit of cross-dressing somewhere in, god - who can remember? - Iowa. While this enthralling docu was being watched, I took a nap and had some weird dreams about - shit, who cares? - pirates or giant bugs or whatever it is I dream about on buses.
Anyhoo... when we got back from our Weekend (I might add that we both had allergic reactions to Our Nation's Capital - something to do with "stink berries" if I'm to believe our gracious hosts), I grabbed the Netflix DVD, shoved it in the envelope thingy, and mailed it back.
Then I found the DVD.
Turns out, I had accidentally sent a completely different disc back in the envelope. For the detail-oriented, it was a CD by a band called "Avail" and it belonged to The Boyfriend. (Though not pleased, he was not overly miffed. He's nice.)
As I'm wont to do, I delayed actually doing anything about this hiccup. My plan was to put the correct Netflix CD in a regular envelope and send it back to them with my apologies for being so unobservant and space-sproket-y and whatnot; but of course I never got round to it.
Listen, I'm busy! I got shit to do and not enough time, etc.
[As John Fowles might say at this point: Are you enjoying this? I hope so!]
A couple of days ago, I received an envelope from Netflix. Not the standard Red thingy, but a plain, white contraption, addressed to me; ominous. I opened it to find the Avail CD in the regular Netflix envelope for the movie we'd rented - it was called "The Real Dirt on Farmer John" in case anyone cares... Thing was, the CD was all smashed up into bits.
Was this intentional?
Think about it.
How often do Netflix DVDs get smashed into bits in transit?
If it happened often, poor Netflix would be out of business.
So, I asked myself (and The Boyfriend - because, while talking to oneself may be the only way to ensure intelligent conversation, it's also the first sign of madness. Go figure.), did Netflix do this intentionally?
The only way to know is to call their customer service dept and find out (stay tuned for tomorrow's blog: "In Which We Call Netflix Customer Service To Find Out What Is Up With That"); but I hope it's not some retaliatory measure! Am I "projecting" or was that kinda passive-aggresive? The CD I accidentally mailed to them is worth more than the DVD I was supposed to send. Meanwhile, we have Roku'd the CRAP out of things, but have not received any more DVDs.
Man, I hope it was just a coincidental accident!
[glances at nearby shelf]
Oh - I see several unreturned NetFlix on that nearby shelf...
Sorry, Netflix!
I love Ruku, by the way. Neat!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Do I Have Tenure?
The Boyfriend: You were listed as "PRINCESS AWESOME" on my IM list for a long time, so I've changed it to something more appropriate.
The Bird: But what could be more appropriate than Princess Awesome!?!?
The Boyfriend: How about Professor Fitzgerald Smellbottom?
The Bird: Fitzgerald Smellbottom, eh? Do I teach at P.U. !!!!
The Boyfriend: Hehehehe.
The Bird: That was a good one!
The Boyfriend: Way to TOOT your own horn.
The Bird: But what could be more appropriate than Princess Awesome!?!?
The Boyfriend: How about Professor Fitzgerald Smellbottom?
The Bird: Fitzgerald Smellbottom, eh? Do I teach at P.U. !!!!
The Boyfriend: Hehehehe.
The Bird: That was a good one!
The Boyfriend: Way to TOOT your own horn.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Mavericky
Seen the movie Dumb & Dumber? Good, then you know what my hair looks like right now - specifically, my bangs.
Needing a trim and wanting to save money, I popped into a Supercuts. How hard can it be to take an inch off? I mean, it's basically following an existing, reasonably straight line, right?
Wrong.
I look like the "stylist" stuck a bowl - a really tiny bowl - on my head and chopped around it with all the skill and focus of someone who regularly watches Two and a Half Men. I look like that kid you knew in middle school who got busted for grafitti-ing his own name on the side of a building.* I look like I regularly eat funyans and like to sniff my own armpits. I look like the kind of person who believes Sarah Palin is mavericky.
I look like a fucking retard.
It seems to be getting worse by the day. If you see me in the next month and I'm wearing a jaunty hat or rocking that same old headscarf look, then you'll know why. And if you're in need of a laugh in these difficult times, ask if you can take a look at my bangs. Just know that when you're done laughing, you're bloody well buying me a drink!
*Note: this actually happened at my middle school. But I am too classy to name names. Declan.
Needing a trim and wanting to save money, I popped into a Supercuts. How hard can it be to take an inch off? I mean, it's basically following an existing, reasonably straight line, right?
Wrong.
I look like the "stylist" stuck a bowl - a really tiny bowl - on my head and chopped around it with all the skill and focus of someone who regularly watches Two and a Half Men. I look like that kid you knew in middle school who got busted for grafitti-ing his own name on the side of a building.* I look like I regularly eat funyans and like to sniff my own armpits. I look like the kind of person who believes Sarah Palin is mavericky.
I look like a fucking retard.
It seems to be getting worse by the day. If you see me in the next month and I'm wearing a jaunty hat or rocking that same old headscarf look, then you'll know why. And if you're in need of a laugh in these difficult times, ask if you can take a look at my bangs. Just know that when you're done laughing, you're bloody well buying me a drink!
*Note: this actually happened at my middle school. But I am too classy to name names. Declan.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
It Went a Little Something Like This
Last Thursday night we drove to Peekskill to see the Fall foliage and get our stroll on. Peekskill is the location of Eastland Academy, the ficticious girls' school from The Facts of Life. That's about all it has going for it - and there isn't even a special museum or a memorial to Tooty's rollerskates.
Anyway, by the time we got to our hotel, The Peekskill Inn, it was around 11pm and even colder than fuck. Luckily, we had brought our own hooch or I might have died of frosbite trying to find a bar.
The next day, we got up and drove around till we found a nice riverside walkway along which to stroll. We sat on a bench overlooking the majestic Hudson River. "Try not to look at the giant nuclear silo just across the way," said The Boyfriend, "and igore the Con Ed truck parked 10 feet to your left because I have something to tell you."
"Ooh, ok." I said. Hoping The Boyfriend was finally going to reveal that he secretly thinks Star Trek: TNG is cool!
"Last week, when I said I was helping D pick up his new kitchen table, I lied. I was actually looking at wedding rings."
Then The Boyfriend got down on one knee and asked me if I would marry him!
(I said yes, obviously. Hel-lo.)
A little while later, we made some calls to let people know the awesome news. I called my mother. Here's how that went:
The Bird: Mum! Guess what, I'm engaged!
The Mother: To who?
We're off to a fantastic start!
Anyway, by the time we got to our hotel, The Peekskill Inn, it was around 11pm and even colder than fuck. Luckily, we had brought our own hooch or I might have died of frosbite trying to find a bar.
The next day, we got up and drove around till we found a nice riverside walkway along which to stroll. We sat on a bench overlooking the majestic Hudson River. "Try not to look at the giant nuclear silo just across the way," said The Boyfriend, "and igore the Con Ed truck parked 10 feet to your left because I have something to tell you."
"Ooh, ok." I said. Hoping The Boyfriend was finally going to reveal that he secretly thinks Star Trek: TNG is cool!
"Last week, when I said I was helping D pick up his new kitchen table, I lied. I was actually looking at wedding rings."
Then The Boyfriend got down on one knee and asked me if I would marry him!
(I said yes, obviously. Hel-lo.)
A little while later, we made some calls to let people know the awesome news. I called my mother. Here's how that went:
The Bird: Mum! Guess what, I'm engaged!
The Mother: To who?
We're off to a fantastic start!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Gerbils
The Bird: Did you just call me a gerbil?
The Boyfriend: No, I called you a jerkoff!
The Bird: Phew! I thought for a minute you had something against gerbils!
Last night I dreamed that Lenin has risen from the dead and was in New York to do some shopping and, y'know, hang. We took him to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. After the show, he confessed that he'd found it "only ok" and asked if The Little Mermaid was still sold out.
The Boyfriend: No, I called you a jerkoff!
The Bird: Phew! I thought for a minute you had something against gerbils!
Last night I dreamed that Lenin has risen from the dead and was in New York to do some shopping and, y'know, hang. We took him to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. After the show, he confessed that he'd found it "only ok" and asked if The Little Mermaid was still sold out.
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