Jr and Q: Take 11

I am leaving you with a post from the lovely and eloquent Jr and Q (A.K.A: my brother and me, for those of you not down with hipness of my blog.) I shall return with glorious tales of sandy beaches and 13 hour flights! Until next week:

This conversation took place during an intense round of Scrabulous.

Junior: Your turn.

Q: The boss is out of the office, which you would think would make playing this easier. But now everyone and their damn dog keeps walking through here. Get the fuck out!

Junior: Assholes.

Q: Seriously.

Junior: Your turn.

Q: So what are you doing in between turns? Are you chatting with someone else behind my back!

Junior: No, I was checking my email, looking for funny stuff on YouTube. That sort of thing.

Q: Well you could always type in “hot tub poo” into the search for a classic.

Junior: Hahahaha, that is very true.

Q: Your turn.

Junior: I win! I win!

Q: What?! Fuck off, really? Son of a bitch. New game. I can’t even tell you how much this helps to make the day go by faster.

Junior: You are kicking my asss.

Q: So much so that it took an extra “s.”

Junior: Yesss. Your turn againg.

Q: Well shit, no wonder you are losing. In English, please! You are typing like you have a cold. Ooh, good word.

Junior: Thanks. I am not doin’ so hot this time.

Q:
Um no. And my last word was pretty sweet, too.

Junior: Back in the game.

Q: Oh man! Only one space away from killing me!

Junior: I know!!!

Q: Wow; this board is getting awfully shitty to work with.

Junior: Yes. This one is going to be close!

Q: The suspense is killing me!

Junior: Calm down!

Q: My letters suck ass. I V L K N P B. So you know. . . I have options.

Junior: Hahahaha, oh sweet!

Q: Woo hoo. I could play one letter! Effin’ A!

Junior: And it was an effin’ K

Q: Hahahaha. I know! Damn it; you are totally going to win.

Junior: You suck. That is where I was gonna go! I don’t think I can go anymore.

Q: Good!

Junior: I doubt you can either!

Q: Don’t you worry. I will fuckin’ figure it out.

Junior: Pretty sure we are both stuck.

Q: No way! NEVER SAY DIE! NEVER SURRENDER. . . or vise versa. Whatever the fuck he says.

Junior: By Grapthar’s hammer, it’s over!

Junior: 307
Q: 279

8250

Pronunciation: ’ā-tē • ’tü • ’fif-tē

8.jpg Number of days I will be away from my computer, starting Wednesday. Hence the reason I will be MIA for the next little while. I will catch up and comment like the stalker that I am, just as soon I can!

2.jpg Days until we leave on our trip.

5.jpg Pages in my “To Do Before We Leave” List. Holy shit. THERE IS NO TIME!!!

0.jpg Number of people in our family that will be attending the Metallica concert in November. They want $100 per ticket. In the immortal words of…well…me…. FUCK THAT.


Side note: I am sorry that I haven’t been able to set up something cool, like guest bloggers and whatnot, while I am gone. But as you can see from the above list, I have way too much shit to finalize, delegate, pack, etc. before we go. So sadly, my blog will be on hiatus for the next week. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!!

See you soon!

Because If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good.

In regards to my soon to be country star dilema, I have been thinking about what the fuck I should do with my hair. I have heard of these online hair makeovers that you can do, so I thought I would check it out. I am sure by now you lovely, lovely readers can imagine how successful that was and how seriously I took it once I saw its glorious potential.

Let’s review the results!

The Playskool

Not bad. Not bad. I like that it looks like my hair snaps into place. This is good.

Mrs. Thelma

I think Mama sent Miss Naomi Oates out to look for her hair.

Not Queen, Not Duke, Not Prince

IF I WERE KING OF THE FOREEEEEEEEEEESSST! I don’t think I have the courage to get this one.

The Dead Squid on My Head

‘nough said.

The Tufnel

In ancient times, hundreds of years before the dawn of history, an ancient race of people… the Hairstylists. No one knows who they were or what they were doing…

The Dee

WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT. NO! WE AIN’T GONNA TAKE IT! Sorry. For some reason that just popped into my head. Not sure why….

So.

This was helpful.

I think these hairdos are going to be a big big hit. What do you think?

Childbirth and You

Jeremy and I are attending the required childbirth education course, this Saturday. Not sure why this is required. But it will be entertaining to watch Jeremy squirm and freak out when they show the birthing videos. Hopefully they will show the one I watched a few weeks ago with the large woman on her hands and knees, lowing like she hadn’t been milked in over a week. That wasn’t disturbing at all.

I imagine this will make for some very good posting next week. Or at least Monday and Tuesday. After that it’s off to Curacao!! Hmmm…better figure out what to do with this blog while I am away.

Everyday Life – It’s Time for Another Random Survey.

Ok, I know this is a total cop out on the actual posting. But what can I say, I hold a small little place in my heart for these stupid things. And in all honesty, I am having a brain cloud when it comes to blogging. I am hoping this sparks some anecdote that I wish to share with all of you lovely readers. Here’s hoping.

Is your second toe longer than your first? Why yes; I believe it is.
Do you have a favorite type of pen? I prefer pens with ink in them.
Look at your planner for March 14, what are you doing? Monthly dinner with the girls.
What color are your toenails usually? Sparkle-y Red
What was the last thing you highlighted? Hardware specifications of an RFP I am responding to.
What color are your bedroom curtains? We have up to and including no curtains anywhere in our home.
What color are the seats in your car? Tan
Have you ever had a black and white cat? Nope. Can’t say that I have.
What is the last thing you put a stamp on? Something that I needed to mail. And then I went crazy, slapping stamps on to everything I could see.
Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? Can’t say that I do.
Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Just to look at it and hold it and caress it.
Who is the last baby that you held? Mr. Rowan Cutie Man Blair
Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? No; but I do know some twins named Brock and Lee. I shit you not.
Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste? Never tried it. But the thought of it makes my gums hurt.
What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? Same car we are driving now. A Honda Accord.
Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators And this would be referring to what? What if I want the option to select Hurricanes of Gators from Miami, FL?
Last time you went to Six Flags? I believe I was 11 years old. Magic Mountain, to be specific.
Do you have any wallpaper in your house? Good god, no.
Closest thing to you that is yellow: Post-its.
Last person to give you a business card? I think it was Annie.
Who is the last person you wrote a check to? The IRS. Damn estimated tax payments.
Closest framed picture to you? There are no framed pictures in my vicinity. However, I do have a large Guitar Hero Legends of Rock poster hanging in my cubicle.
Last time you had someone cook for you? Annie attempted to make “no bake cookies.” It was not a success.
How many emails do you have? Work email:32. Personal email: 105
Last time you received flowers/flower? Don’t recall.
Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman? No, I do not.
What are you listening to right now? Land of 1000 Dances – Wilson Pickett
Do you play air guitar? I prefer to play air accordion.
Do you have any Willow Tree figurines? “Do you have any figurines?” would be the more appropriate question. And the answer is no.
What is your high school’s rival mascot? We had a mascot?
Who is the last person you talked to from high school? Brenda
Would you like to learn to play the drums? Dude, I already have mad drum skills. Ok, that is crap. I can play a basic 4/4 beat, but that is about it.
What color are the blinds in your living room? They will be white…just as soon as we buy them.
What is in your inbox at work? So many many things that I don’t give a shit about, but have to deal with anyways.
Last thing you read in the newspaper? I haven’t read an actual newspaper in years.
What is the last place you bought pizza from? The grocery store. How I love Totino’s cardboard pizzas!
Have you ever worn a crown? Everyday of my life.
What is the last thing you stapled? Paper. Do you really staple anything else?
Did you ever drink clear Pepsi? No. But I did try Crystal Gravy, once.
Are you ticklish? More than you can imagine.
Last time you saw fireworks? The 24th of July. It’s a Utah thing.
Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut? Probably 4 years ago. I am not a fan of donuts.
Who is the last person that left you a message on your cell? My fahja.
Last time you parked under a carport? A few months ago at Heather’s apartment.
Do you have a black dog? No, but I have a white pussy. Whoa, sorry. Too much information.
Do you have any pickles in your fridge? Of course! What is a fridge without pickles?!
How long have they been there? Since before the war. And by war I mean the one occurring in 1812.
Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of? My friend Kim’s daughter Kate.
Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe? Yes. And I hate everything about them.

I Can’t Keep a Straight Face to Save My Life

I have been Captain Giggles lately. The dumbest things are sending me into fits of laughter. I can’t even think about these things, hours later, without having to stifle an onslaught of giggles. What is up with that?! For example, my husband and I watched “Airplane” the other night. This scene comes on, particularly minute 1:36 – 1:40.

Thought I was going to pass out. That movie is so stupid, and yet it seemed to hit just the right nerve.

Then, yesterday, my dad sends me this:

I had to get up from my desk and go into the break room to try to gain control. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. And it’s not even that funny! I have just felt absolutely giddy lately. Not sure what it is. If it’s that fact that I am discovering Rocket’s little personality, or the fact that I am excited to see my sister, Jennifer Jennifer Crotch Crotch, or that I am madly in love with my husband. Whatever the reason, don’t mind me if you tell me something ridiculous and I collapse into a fit of laughter. I just can’t help myself.

My My! What Is That Intriguing Aroma?

As mentioned in my previous post, my husband and I are commuters. We often stop for breakfast and eat it on the way. Might as well make the most of the time, right? Well the other day I had a chocolate milk. I didn’t finish all of it and had about 3oz or so leftover. I forgot to throw it away and it sat in the car for a day or two. So Friday, after dropping Jeremy off at the golf course, I gathered up the trash that has accumulated in our car over the past couple of days, including the milk (or so I thought), and tossed it in the garbage. After which I headed over to my sister’s house to pick up some craft supplies I had let her borrow.

Because I have quite the armful to get out to the car, my sister’s fiance helps me carry out the supplies. While we are there, he notices the lower half of a mannequin I have laying in the back seat of the car. I explain to him that I am painting it for my other sister, Jenn, and proceed to pull it out to show him this (painted on the mannequin’s cooter…I love that word).

I push the mannequin back in to the car, but it gets caught up on something. So I go around to the other side of the car to finish pulling it into place. This is when I notice that it smells like a dead body has decided to join me for the ride home. I look under the mannequin and see what it was caught up on. The milk that I had thought I had thrown away is now all over the back mat of the car. It. Was. Ungodly.

I tried my best to clean it up, but there is no cleaner available in this world that will remove the smell of Satan’s asshole. So with all the window’s cracked I headed back to pick up Jeremy, trying to stifle my gag reflex on the way. As we are heading back to get into the car I tell him, and my father who has joined us at this time, what has happened. We don’t get less than 6 feet from the car and you can smell it. Jeremy and my father started retching, instantly. I can’t blame them. It smells like the inside of a prosthetic leg. (Or so I imagine.) And there is nothing we can do.

Once we have pulled together enough courage, we get into the car and brave the 45 minute commute home. We have all the windows down, despite the noise from traveling on the freeway, and scream back and forth at each other in an attempt to have a conversation. About halfway home, we stop off at Cafe Rio to pick up our standard Friday night dinner. This was a bad idea. The combination of sour milk and fideo smells like hot vomit.

It has taken multiple scrub downs with 409 and a bottle of Febreze to make the smell tolerable. Not gone, just not so pungent. I think it will take a small fire and a cliff to get rid of it entirely.