Harry: Heavy, man. I know how it goes.
I lost my balls in the war.
I got them back in the next one.
Today my ear feels somewhat better but now I am all sleepy and clammy feeling and I am eating a lot of clams. I think something is wrong.
Me:
Perhaps you should "clam up" and go to the doctor. You don't wanna end up deaf 'n dumb, do ya?
Or maybe you do. If I had to lose any one of my sense I think I'd give up on smell. I mean, I like seeing shit or hearing shit but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't miss smelling shit.
My frozen water looks like a big penis. (https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/391169_10150377370645846_509780845_8722004_904227522_n.jpg)
Harry:
I DON'T like hearing shit. It's not supposed to make very much noise, as far as I know. It makes me sad when it makes sounds.
I don't think it's an ear infection anymore. Now I think it's a spider that crawled into my ear at night and spun an intricate web deep inside. I think it'll fall out on its own.
Yeah that is some good looking frozen water! Except according to that one guy, it doesn't look like a BIG penis. It looks like a tiny penis.
I bet you could freeze a few of them together to get yourself a decent sized penis. Oh! I have an idea! I gotta go check out my freezer, brb.
Harry:
OK that idea didn't turn out quite as well as I had hoped.
Me:
You know, I was going to say that you have a cockroach or somesuch in your ear, but I wasn't sure how much that would creep you out. Because that's something that actually happens, you know. Bugs in the ear. I know quite a few people who wouldn't tolerate such talk and call me a Devil woman for even suggesting it.
I didn't set out to create an ice penis, it just kinda happened on it's own. I hesitated about posting such an obvious wang on OKC, but it was just too funny to resist. Now I suppose that posing with an ice peen makes me "that kind of girl". Hell yes -- the kinda girl who likes her dranks COLD!
Harry:
I think perhaps I accidentally jammed some earwax deep into my ear while I was flagrantly disregarding Q-Tip's warning not to insert them into my ear canal.
I think maybe I'll put that in my profile, and then change my preferences to say I am looking for dating and then watch the date offers roll in.
I think that ice penises tend to happen on their own more often than not. Any accidental penis is funny. Oh! You could submit that to Accidental Penis!
And yeah, you're totally right. Ever since you posted that picture of your fingers wrapped around that big, long, cylinder of ice... I can't stop thinking about you sipping a huge, ice-cold refreshment. Perhaps some sort of lemonade or tea. Or, and let me know if I am getting out of line here, maybe it's even an Arnold Palmer!
Oh gosh, sorry, that's such a rude idea to have floating around my head.
Me:
Accidental Penis is an actual thing?
I like my tea iced and I like it sweet. Ideally I would just stick that sucker in a tumbler in place of ice cubes, but such debauchery should not take place in front of children. I do have some values.
Some.
Did I tell you that I almost had my nose broken on Thanksgiving day? I almost wish I had -- just for the picture. So many folks seem uptight about my sneering mug, just imagine how they'd react to my sneering mug with a twisted, bleeding schnoz. I'd totally do it, too. Because I have a poor social barometer.
Q-tips come with many warnings. I think the name should be changed from "Q-tips" to "Death-tips". I'd still buy 'em!
Harry:
It sure is!
http://accidentalpenis.com/
I subscribe to it in Facebook! But not on Tumblr :(
You did tell me about it! Well, no details, just that you almost broke it.
If you want, I would break your nose for you. I think it would look pretty wicked. I bet your social barometer is great. Or, maybe I am thinking of your social anemometer.
Q-tips are scary, but there are worse kinds of swabs I've encountered.
HOW'S YOUR MOOD?
Me:
My mood is placid. Which is better than bad, but not as nice as good. I blame college-related burnout.
My mother came over to my house on Thanksgiving to prepare the eats. While she was rooting through a high shelf in the kitchen looking for something (I was standing next to her), an iron skillet fell -- nearly missing my pretty, upturned face. Instead it landed on the ground near my feet with a jarring thud. I remember thinking, "That floor could've been my FACE."
Yup.
Huh. There's a website for errythang!
I'm on Facebook too much. It's actually rather pathetic.
Harry:
I am on facebook exactly enough. 9 hours a day.
I just bought and used an earwax removal kit. Now I am dizzy. Probably the cockroach in my ear didn't like the goo and it's wriggling around now.
I'm glad your face doesn't resemble a floor.
Did you submit your icewang to accidental penis?
Me:
Did I submit it? Guess you'll have to check every so often to find out.
Not that I would have to remind you.
I have a very distinct memory of going to an ear, nose, and throat specialist when I was a kid and having my left ear cleaned with something that looked a bit like a dildo with a beak-like ending on it. This thing hammered away until it eventually loosened a SMALL STONE from my ear canal. Seriously! I somehow managed to get a stone about the size of a pencil eraser lodged in my ear and I didn't even know how it got there. I desperately wanted to keep what I called my "ear baby", but alas, my mom wouldn't let me.
I just hope that a nice family adopted it.
....But it probably ended up in the foster system. Now it's out on the streets turning tricks.
Perhaps you have a stone in your ear. Perhaps it's Sorcerer's Stone.
Harry:
Oh that would be sweet if I had a stone in my ear! I would keep it for sure and raise it up right.
Funny, I was just talking to someone about my kidney stone earlier. It was neat. It looked like a tiny brain coral.
I'm still sad that I didn't keep it. Flushed away down the toilet like some common human baby :(
Me:
You had a kidney stone?! You're only 30! I thought that only old men who ate a lot of organ meats got kidney stones. That and gout.
But yeah, you should've kept it. I used to collect all kinds of ghoulish things, most notably teeth. Teeth fascinated me to no end, especially if the roots were still attached. I kept all of the teeth I lost in a small, plastic trophy I won at the Public Library. Yeah, that's right. Won first place for a chalk drawing I did of a parrot. Took home my winnings and kept teeth in it. Like a boss.
Harry:
I was very surprised I had it! And I think I was 23ish when it happened! I am guessing due to chronically not drinking enough fluids.
It was the worst pain of my life when it was moving down my ureter, though I didn't know that's what was happening at the time. When I actually passed it a few days later, it didn't hurt at all. Just sort of felt like, uh, a rock tumbling through a hose or tube. The tube being my urethra. And then for a few hours later there was a slight sting inside, as though a small rock had gently scraped the inside of my wiener.
Have you ever seen the show Oddities on the Science channel? They sell teeth sometimes. Teeth can fetch a good price.
Congratulations on winning the chalk drawing contest! Sorry I never congratulated you sooner!
Me:
That was a loveliest description I've ever read of the passing of a kidney stone. I mean, you totally had me rooting for your urethra! It's just a damn good thing that it's not narrow.
(I'm going to assume that you got the reference)
I can't say that I've seen that show, but I haven't seen most shows because I rarely watch TV. And I don't mean that in a snobby, hipster, "TV is the devil" way -- it's mainly due to the fact that I'm either doing something with the chillens or I'm busy with school-related tasks. But I can certainly see how teeth would fetch a handsome price. John Lennon's tooth sold for over 30k. Corey Haim's teeth, however, didn't see at all. Which I think is terribly sad. His hair, or more specifically, his pubic hair, didn't snag any buyers either. I don't find that quite as sad. Because they're, you know. Pubes.
I draw a mean parrot. No, literally. I drew a parrot that was in the process of biting a child's finger, and he bit it FOR KICKS.
Harry:
Yay! Thanks! My urethra certainly came out ahead over my ureter. Poor ureter.
Do you think I need to me famous in order to make any money selling my pubes?
Your parrot is an asshole. Probably a nightparrot. I've seen a parrot take down a Brazil nut like it was nothin'. I'm scared to get any of my body within three feet of a parrot.
Harry:
I had a parakeet once.
What are your plans for late March?
Me:
I'm fairly certain that the only way you could make coin off of selling your pubic hair is if you said you were a Japanese school girl.
Are you a Japanese school girl? I hear their kidney stones sell like hotcakes!
If you had to sacrifice a body part to the nightparrot, I would suggest giving him your ureter, which is weak and worthless.
Me:
Late March? Well, by then I'll have turned 31, so probably settling into the Bellevue Care Center, which is an old age home.
Harry:
Oh! When's your birthday? Early March?
Me:
March 3rd.
"3rd" rhymes with "turd", btw.
Harry:
I am hoping to have a SUPER FUN birthday party in Ann Arbor on March turdieth or turdy first.
I'll expect to see you there. If you have trouble with transportation, then I'll bet mrs_peanut can pick you up on her way :|
What kind of totally wild and insane birthday party are YOU having?
Me:
Transportation is never a problem, as I have both a car and a GPS. However, if either of these things fail to work, I can always travel using pixie dust.
I'm pretty awkward and not much of a party person. Unless I'm drunk. That's when I get horrible.
Then I vomit.
Well, my wild and insane plans involve sitting around of my duff and watching funny Internet videos. You know, like I do every night?
OH MY GOD I NEED AN INTERVENTION!
Harry:
Oh good, then we'll get you nice and drunk! Then you can sing karaoke for hours and hours and hours and feel just fine.
That sounds like a load of fun. I might try it on my actual birthday. But I don't know, doing that a couple of days before the party might just wear me out too much. I'll probably need a week to recover from that.
Don't let anyone tell you that you need an intervention. You are doing just fine. Just fine. You are doing just fine. *pat pat pat*
Me:
Um, er...by-the-way. What's your name? I figure if I might do this I'll need a name to write using my own blood after you and your buddies sacrifice me to the Sky Daddy.
Harry:
Oh, you don't need to know my name YET. If you came, that would be MONTHS away!
But it's Harry. WHAT IS YOURS? Is it Hilary? Hilary Clinton?
Me: Me.
Also, it's past my bedtime. I have a coco induced hangover that I need to sleep off.
Harry:
Oh yeah, you said the word "Me" before.
Well have a good sleep! I'll try to get a red wine hangover to balance out your coco hangover. I am pretty sure it works that way.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
11/26/11
Me: Yeah, so I woke up an hour ago and have yet to successfully fall back asleep. And seeing as how I have to be up in three hours, I can pretty much count on today being full of suck. I'm also most-likely going to be in a bad mood. Again.
Aren't I just a delight?
Actually, no.
The only candy I eat is chocolate, and on occasion, Mike & Ike's. So I have no choice but to take your word for it in regards to the "badass" factor of gummi lifesavers.
Harry: I appear to have woken up with an ear infection.
Perhaps I am eight.
Me: I have terrible sinus problems, which are typically coupled with an ear infection due to all the drainage and such.
I'm 8 1/2. My brother can beat up your brother. My dog' better than your dog.
Wanna see a dead body?
Harry: Ah, the joys of mortgaging your future.
Harry: When I hear things with my right ear, it makes me dizzy and fall to the left. This seems a lot less badass than that candy last night. Is this normal for ear infections?
Me: It is if you have an inner-ear infection. Which it sounds like you do. Again, I often have the same problem -- but not because of my sinuses. It's an old 'Nam injury; sat too close to a grenade. Motherfucker went off and blew out my eardrum. Lost five men that day. Good men. I remember all their names...some of them had girls back home...
Aren't I just a delight?
Actually, no.
The only candy I eat is chocolate, and on occasion, Mike & Ike's. So I have no choice but to take your word for it in regards to the "badass" factor of gummi lifesavers.
Harry: I appear to have woken up with an ear infection.
Perhaps I am eight.
Me: I have terrible sinus problems, which are typically coupled with an ear infection due to all the drainage and such.
I'm 8 1/2. My brother can beat up your brother. My dog' better than your dog.
Wanna see a dead body?
Harry: Ah, the joys of mortgaging your future.
Harry: When I hear things with my right ear, it makes me dizzy and fall to the left. This seems a lot less badass than that candy last night. Is this normal for ear infections?
Me: It is if you have an inner-ear infection. Which it sounds like you do. Again, I often have the same problem -- but not because of my sinuses. It's an old 'Nam injury; sat too close to a grenade. Motherfucker went off and blew out my eardrum. Lost five men that day. Good men. I remember all their names...some of them had girls back home...
Saturday, May 19, 2012
11/25/11
Harry: Bird friend!
Harry: I like birds.
Harry: Glad it was good. I injured my niece and nephew and insulted my sister's mother-in-law's cooking.
I bet your grandma is nice. I mean, if she likes black guys and all.
Me: Nah, my grandma's dead. It didn't stop us from crashing her place, though.
I'm in a bad mood, because all I've been doing today has been computer-related homework, essay writing, and tending to children. Plus all the guests I had over for Thanksgiving took all the good shit home with them, like the pies and such, and all that was left was dark meat. And no, I'm not referring to the black guy.
I very nearly had my nose broken, yesterday. If I had, I totally would've posted a picture.
Harry: You should ditch all your friends and family and whoever was over at your place yesterday and marry my brother-in-law and his dad. They prefer ONLY dark meat if possible.
You should marry them. Get married. At a wedding. I want you to marry them.
Harry: How do you feel about Twister being played on you?
Harry: Or "Dizzy Dizzy Dinosaur?"
Me: I was married before and have no intention of doing it again, TYVM. My ex-husband preferred dark meat, too. His girlfriend has an oven in the bun -- but it's only going to be half-dark when it pops out.
I feel fine about Twister being played on me. Left hand on the blue dot, right elbow on the yellow dot, oh -- you're done? No, no, I understand, it's been awhile.
Dizzy Dizzy Dinosaur would most likely make me vomit.
Harry: I will never get married.
I have nothing to offer anyone.
Except a disappointingly short game of Twister.
Harry: How would you feel about getting divorced again? I've always wanted to try it. *WINK WINK*
Me: The last dude I was with who was no good at Twister was dumped. But, he was also obnoxious, and not in a fun way. So the dumping was justified and not shallow.
I have a lot to offer -- just as long as the person I'm offering to has low-expectations. Like, really really low. It was also help if they had a poor sense of small, 'cause that shit stanks! Harry: I have a poor sense of everything.
I've never played strip Twister. But I always thought that sounded great. Always when I was a teenager.
I'm pretty great at having no expectations whatsoever! I expect it helps me out quite a lot.
Me: Did you know that the majority of Shirley Temple's fans were grown men? Perhaps they wanted to be the animal crackers in her soup. Only in a sexual way.
I'm still in a bad mood.
I'd like to see the new Muppet movie. A Muppet/human world would be idealistic. But alas, it is only a twisted nightmare.
Harry: No er uh, I had no idea. I ummm, can't imagine grown men wanting to be "animal crackers in her soup." That's just er, you know, wrong and stuff. Never even crossed my mind a lot of times.
Yeah I tend to think that a Muppet/human world would end up more like Greg the Bunny or Wonder Showzen. Twisted. And with nude puppets. Sexy, nude, drug-using puppets.
I'm sorry you're in a bad mood still. Hey! I have an idea that might cheer you up! I'm from Michigan. You're from Ohio. We're both somewhere around an hour from the state line.
Let's reenact the Toledo War!
Loser has to buy the winner a trip to Toledo!
Me: It's true. An entertainment reporter from England named Graham Greene referred to her as a "complete totsy". I know all this because I wrote a very long, extensive essay on perversion for my Sociology class. It's being published in an Academic Journal. For real. I'm not getting paid or anything, I'm simply being given the bragging rights to say that an essay I wrote for a filler class is being published in a journal that no one will ever read.
The fame has gone straight to my thighs.
There was a war in Toledo? Why was I not informed? I could have run information for the opposition. Either that or start a singing trio like The Andrews Sisters. Only we wouldn't really be sisters. Or Andrews'. Or girls.
I've been to Michigan -- Royal Oak, to be exact, to see a man about a horse. I was not disappointed.
Harry: Heck yes there was a Toledo War! The greatest war in history! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toledo_War
That's super great about the essay. You can put it on your resume! And get paid in the FUTURE for writing about perversion! It's a slam dunk.
A friend of mine has done something similar, though I don't think it was published in an academic journal. It may have even been mrs_peanut...
I'm glad you weren't disappointed. Royal Oak has a way of disappointing people. I guess the horse must have made up for it. Must have been quite a horsey horse!
I've been to Ohio. Lots of times. Been disappointed every time.
Harry: OH WAIT EXCEPT FOR CEDAR POINT AND SEEING MY GRANDPARENTS AND DRIVING THROUGH IT ON AN AWESOME ROAD TRIP
Me: As soon as I read the words "entirely bloodless" I pretty much lost interest. But no, I had no idea. I feel ignorant and ill-informed about northwestern Ohio, now. And feeling as though I knew my homeland like the back of my hand was the only thing I had going for me. So thanks for destroying the illusion. THANKS A LOT.
You really want me to talk to mrs_peanut, don't you? To be perfectly honest, I don't get along with other womenfolk that well, unless they just-so-happen to be just like me. Which just goes to show you how awful and self-centered I am. And I really have no cause to be, seeing as how I'm smart and gorgeous.
I'm also kinda fat, but I'm pretty sure you've already figured that out.
I used to work at Cedar Point as a caricature artist. I excelled at making teenage girls cry by drawing them with big noses. I considered their tears to be a fringe benefit. Especially if they happened to be a complete totsy.
Harry: Oh, I won't push mrs_peanut on you. I learned that at my sexual harrassment seminar. I don't know you well enough to know how similar you two are.
And uh, hey, the Toledo War was NOT entirely bloodless!
"During the scuffle, Two Stickney, son of the major, stabbed Wood with a pen knife and fled south into Ohio. Wood's injuries were not life-threatening."
When we re-enact this, I call the guy who wields the knife.
Harry: Sorry, "pen" knife.
Me: I don't think the stabbing had as much to do with a boundary dispute as it did the fact that this guy was obviously sick of everyone making fun of him for being named after a bowel movement. I mean, a guy can only take so many bathroom jokes before he snaps and stabs a bitch with a pen knife.
I didn't have to attend some hippie-ass seminar to learn how to sexually harass people; I was BORN with that skill.
Harry: Yeah I'd even stab a guy named Three. What a dick.
And I never said you couldn't push ME onto people. Your skills might some in handy for me. If I am lucky.
Me: There Will Be Blood.
Harry: Ooooookay, maybe I don't want you pushing me onto people?
I'd like to think of myself as open-minded in bed, but I draw the line at blood-letting .
Harry: HOW IS YOUR MOOD?
Me: Still grumpy, but slightly less than before. I had a headache that was related to the stress of being awesome*, but I popped a Mortrin and now 's all good.
I also had a cup of coco and 's good, too.
I hate television. And not it a hipster way, either. The only shows I like are shows about hoarders. Everything else is crap.
*super awesome
Harry: Could you say that you "hoard" super-awesomeness?
Me: Yes. Someday it's all going to fall on me and I won't be able to move. I'll die my own super awesomeness.
Harry: At least you'll leave a beautiful corpse. Like if you drowned, but in super awesomeness rather than in the ocean or a babbling brook.
Um, are we supposed to be meeting at the Michigan-Ohio border? I have my shoes and pants on and everything.
Me: True. And my corpse will remain beautiful because I won't have a house full of cats that'll eat the skin off my face. That really happens, you know.
I had assumed not, seeing as how it's the ungodly hour of 8 p.m. and I just put my nightshirt on. Once the shirt is one I don't do shit, brah.
Harry: Yeah, I think I heard that face-skin is a delicacy for cats or something.
And that's alright, I'm not actually wearing shoes or pants.
"Nightshirt" sounds pretty badass, like some kind of crime fighter. I'm going to take it as badass that you're wearing a "nightshirt."
Me: Cats are nasty little beasts. I am far from pro-cat.
Since I have children I don't have the luxury of being able to spend an entire day pantless. I do, however, go shoeless and often sockless. Like a hillbilly bride.
I don't like the word "nightgown" because it sounds grandma-ish, and I don't like the word "pajamas" because that tends to suggest that it is a pants/shirt combination, which I never wear. I wear a shirt, a long one at that, and I only wear it at night. Thus it's a nightshirt. In these colder, fall and winter months, I often wear thigh-high socks with my nightshirt. Thus, they are "nightsocks".
Badass ++
Harry: I like living by myself, as I can go pantsless or nude whenever I want! I know I need to get a roommate soon to cut costs, and I know that I'll probably accidentally get dragged into a relationship with someone who will force me to marry her and live with her and either way, I'll have to wear clothes all the time.
I guess this is what growing up is all about :(
Harry: But now I know I can trade that in for being a badass, so maybe there is hope!
Me: I don't see why a woman would object to nudity unless there were kids running around. Otherwise this person would be really uptight. And probably a demon in the sack.
Badassness can only be accomplished when you add the word "night" in front of whatever article of clothing you decide to wear to bed. Just keep that in mind and you'll be on your way!
Harry: Everyone my age has kids now. So I can only assume she will. Also she'll be a total bitch, and not only uptight, but really crummy in the sack. Not a good situation.
Also, one time, all women signed a petition telling me that they object to me being nude in their presence. Needless to say this was a blow to the ego.
I think I am going to throw on my nightpants and nightshoes and go to the store to buy some nightcandy. YEAH!
Then I will come back home and dick away the rest of the night commenting on the internet and watching netflix while being objectionable.
Me: Night night!
Harry: Oh, I shall return to OKC when I return. For I am obsessed with checking on the stupid things I say and seeing what responses they've gotten.
But if you are nightnight-nighting, then night night!
Bad. Ass.
Harry: I bought Nightsour gummi lifesavers.
The most badass candy I could find.
Harry: I like birds.
Harry: Glad it was good. I injured my niece and nephew and insulted my sister's mother-in-law's cooking.
I bet your grandma is nice. I mean, if she likes black guys and all.
Me: Nah, my grandma's dead. It didn't stop us from crashing her place, though.
I'm in a bad mood, because all I've been doing today has been computer-related homework, essay writing, and tending to children. Plus all the guests I had over for Thanksgiving took all the good shit home with them, like the pies and such, and all that was left was dark meat. And no, I'm not referring to the black guy.
I very nearly had my nose broken, yesterday. If I had, I totally would've posted a picture.
Harry: You should ditch all your friends and family and whoever was over at your place yesterday and marry my brother-in-law and his dad. They prefer ONLY dark meat if possible.
You should marry them. Get married. At a wedding. I want you to marry them.
Harry: How do you feel about Twister being played on you?
Harry: Or "Dizzy Dizzy Dinosaur?"
Me: I was married before and have no intention of doing it again, TYVM. My ex-husband preferred dark meat, too. His girlfriend has an oven in the bun -- but it's only going to be half-dark when it pops out.
I feel fine about Twister being played on me. Left hand on the blue dot, right elbow on the yellow dot, oh -- you're done? No, no, I understand, it's been awhile.
Dizzy Dizzy Dinosaur would most likely make me vomit.
Harry: I will never get married.
I have nothing to offer anyone.
Except a disappointingly short game of Twister.
Harry: How would you feel about getting divorced again? I've always wanted to try it. *WINK WINK*
Me: The last dude I was with who was no good at Twister was dumped. But, he was also obnoxious, and not in a fun way. So the dumping was justified and not shallow.
I have a lot to offer -- just as long as the person I'm offering to has low-expectations. Like, really really low. It was also help if they had a poor sense of small, 'cause that shit stanks! Harry: I have a poor sense of everything.
I've never played strip Twister. But I always thought that sounded great. Always when I was a teenager.
I'm pretty great at having no expectations whatsoever! I expect it helps me out quite a lot.
Me: Did you know that the majority of Shirley Temple's fans were grown men? Perhaps they wanted to be the animal crackers in her soup. Only in a sexual way.
I'm still in a bad mood.
I'd like to see the new Muppet movie. A Muppet/human world would be idealistic. But alas, it is only a twisted nightmare.
Harry: No er uh, I had no idea. I ummm, can't imagine grown men wanting to be "animal crackers in her soup." That's just er, you know, wrong and stuff. Never even crossed my mind a lot of times.
Yeah I tend to think that a Muppet/human world would end up more like Greg the Bunny or Wonder Showzen. Twisted. And with nude puppets. Sexy, nude, drug-using puppets.
I'm sorry you're in a bad mood still. Hey! I have an idea that might cheer you up! I'm from Michigan. You're from Ohio. We're both somewhere around an hour from the state line.
Let's reenact the Toledo War!
Loser has to buy the winner a trip to Toledo!
Me: It's true. An entertainment reporter from England named Graham Greene referred to her as a "complete totsy". I know all this because I wrote a very long, extensive essay on perversion for my Sociology class. It's being published in an Academic Journal. For real. I'm not getting paid or anything, I'm simply being given the bragging rights to say that an essay I wrote for a filler class is being published in a journal that no one will ever read.
The fame has gone straight to my thighs.
There was a war in Toledo? Why was I not informed? I could have run information for the opposition. Either that or start a singing trio like The Andrews Sisters. Only we wouldn't really be sisters. Or Andrews'. Or girls.
I've been to Michigan -- Royal Oak, to be exact, to see a man about a horse. I was not disappointed.
Harry: Heck yes there was a Toledo War! The greatest war in history! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toledo_War
That's super great about the essay. You can put it on your resume! And get paid in the FUTURE for writing about perversion! It's a slam dunk.
A friend of mine has done something similar, though I don't think it was published in an academic journal. It may have even been mrs_peanut...
I'm glad you weren't disappointed. Royal Oak has a way of disappointing people. I guess the horse must have made up for it. Must have been quite a horsey horse!
I've been to Ohio. Lots of times. Been disappointed every time.
Harry: OH WAIT EXCEPT FOR CEDAR POINT AND SEEING MY GRANDPARENTS AND DRIVING THROUGH IT ON AN AWESOME ROAD TRIP
Me: As soon as I read the words "entirely bloodless" I pretty much lost interest. But no, I had no idea. I feel ignorant and ill-informed about northwestern Ohio, now. And feeling as though I knew my homeland like the back of my hand was the only thing I had going for me. So thanks for destroying the illusion. THANKS A LOT.
You really want me to talk to mrs_peanut, don't you? To be perfectly honest, I don't get along with other womenfolk that well, unless they just-so-happen to be just like me. Which just goes to show you how awful and self-centered I am. And I really have no cause to be, seeing as how I'm smart and gorgeous.
I'm also kinda fat, but I'm pretty sure you've already figured that out.
I used to work at Cedar Point as a caricature artist. I excelled at making teenage girls cry by drawing them with big noses. I considered their tears to be a fringe benefit. Especially if they happened to be a complete totsy.
Harry: Oh, I won't push mrs_peanut on you. I learned that at my sexual harrassment seminar. I don't know you well enough to know how similar you two are.
And uh, hey, the Toledo War was NOT entirely bloodless!
"During the scuffle, Two Stickney, son of the major, stabbed Wood with a pen knife and fled south into Ohio. Wood's injuries were not life-threatening."
When we re-enact this, I call the guy who wields the knife.
Harry: Sorry, "pen" knife.
Me: I don't think the stabbing had as much to do with a boundary dispute as it did the fact that this guy was obviously sick of everyone making fun of him for being named after a bowel movement. I mean, a guy can only take so many bathroom jokes before he snaps and stabs a bitch with a pen knife.
I didn't have to attend some hippie-ass seminar to learn how to sexually harass people; I was BORN with that skill.
Harry: Yeah I'd even stab a guy named Three. What a dick.
And I never said you couldn't push ME onto people. Your skills might some in handy for me. If I am lucky.
Me: There Will Be Blood.
Harry: Ooooookay, maybe I don't want you pushing me onto people?
I'd like to think of myself as open-minded in bed, but I draw the line at blood-letting .
Harry: HOW IS YOUR MOOD?
Me: Still grumpy, but slightly less than before. I had a headache that was related to the stress of being awesome*, but I popped a Mortrin and now 's all good.
I also had a cup of coco and 's good, too.
I hate television. And not it a hipster way, either. The only shows I like are shows about hoarders. Everything else is crap.
*super awesome
Harry: Could you say that you "hoard" super-awesomeness?
Me: Yes. Someday it's all going to fall on me and I won't be able to move. I'll die my own super awesomeness.
Harry: At least you'll leave a beautiful corpse. Like if you drowned, but in super awesomeness rather than in the ocean or a babbling brook.
Um, are we supposed to be meeting at the Michigan-Ohio border? I have my shoes and pants on and everything.
Me: True. And my corpse will remain beautiful because I won't have a house full of cats that'll eat the skin off my face. That really happens, you know.
I had assumed not, seeing as how it's the ungodly hour of 8 p.m. and I just put my nightshirt on. Once the shirt is one I don't do shit, brah.
Harry: Yeah, I think I heard that face-skin is a delicacy for cats or something.
And that's alright, I'm not actually wearing shoes or pants.
"Nightshirt" sounds pretty badass, like some kind of crime fighter. I'm going to take it as badass that you're wearing a "nightshirt."
Me: Cats are nasty little beasts. I am far from pro-cat.
Since I have children I don't have the luxury of being able to spend an entire day pantless. I do, however, go shoeless and often sockless. Like a hillbilly bride.
I don't like the word "nightgown" because it sounds grandma-ish, and I don't like the word "pajamas" because that tends to suggest that it is a pants/shirt combination, which I never wear. I wear a shirt, a long one at that, and I only wear it at night. Thus it's a nightshirt. In these colder, fall and winter months, I often wear thigh-high socks with my nightshirt. Thus, they are "nightsocks".
Badass ++
Harry: I like living by myself, as I can go pantsless or nude whenever I want! I know I need to get a roommate soon to cut costs, and I know that I'll probably accidentally get dragged into a relationship with someone who will force me to marry her and live with her and either way, I'll have to wear clothes all the time.
I guess this is what growing up is all about :(
Harry: But now I know I can trade that in for being a badass, so maybe there is hope!
Me: I don't see why a woman would object to nudity unless there were kids running around. Otherwise this person would be really uptight. And probably a demon in the sack.
Badassness can only be accomplished when you add the word "night" in front of whatever article of clothing you decide to wear to bed. Just keep that in mind and you'll be on your way!
Harry: Everyone my age has kids now. So I can only assume she will. Also she'll be a total bitch, and not only uptight, but really crummy in the sack. Not a good situation.
Also, one time, all women signed a petition telling me that they object to me being nude in their presence. Needless to say this was a blow to the ego.
I think I am going to throw on my nightpants and nightshoes and go to the store to buy some nightcandy. YEAH!
Then I will come back home and dick away the rest of the night commenting on the internet and watching netflix while being objectionable.
Me: Night night!
Harry: Oh, I shall return to OKC when I return. For I am obsessed with checking on the stupid things I say and seeing what responses they've gotten.
But if you are nightnight-nighting, then night night!
Bad. Ass.
Harry: I bought Nightsour gummi lifesavers.
The most badass candy I could find.
11/24/11
Harry: One time I put so much ketchup on a hamburger, on both sides, that when I picked it up, the burger shot out from between the buns and landed across the table, in front of my dad.
Harry: He beat me severely for a month for it. With a hamburger.
Harry: I was waiting for you to send me a message when I realized that you had sent me one last. GOD I AM AS FORGETFUL AS A HORSE
Me: Are you hung like a horse?
One time, I put so much ketchup on my dad, on both sides, that when I picked him up, my dad shot out from between the buns and landed across the table, in front of my burger.
It beat me severely for a month with him. With my dad.
I'm on OkCupid on Thanksgiving. LOL
I just figured that you lost interest in messaging and stopped, which often happens so I think nothing of it. I don't take the 'Cupe all that seriously, truth be known. It's free, after all.
Harry: I take it incredibly seriously. The most serious thing in the world. Ever. In the whole world.
Harry: What kind of horse are we talking about here? This should probably be clarified before I answer.
Harry: And it is a good, average-sized horse.
Harry: So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?
Me: My Thanksgiving was nice. Me, my dog and his bird friend made popcorn, buttered toast, jellybeans and pretzel sticks. Everyone ate outside on mismatched lawn chairs; the black guy fell through his. My lesbian friend Patty and her partner Marcie were there, but Patty was being a bitch about the dinner because like all lesbians she's a vegan. But Marcie told her to calm the fuck down, because there wasn't a bit of meat to be seen. Long story short my grandma ended up calling and we all went over to her place. Yes, even the black guy.
Harry: He beat me severely for a month for it. With a hamburger.
Harry: I was waiting for you to send me a message when I realized that you had sent me one last. GOD I AM AS FORGETFUL AS A HORSE
Me: Are you hung like a horse?
One time, I put so much ketchup on my dad, on both sides, that when I picked him up, my dad shot out from between the buns and landed across the table, in front of my burger.
It beat me severely for a month with him. With my dad.
I'm on OkCupid on Thanksgiving. LOL
I just figured that you lost interest in messaging and stopped, which often happens so I think nothing of it. I don't take the 'Cupe all that seriously, truth be known. It's free, after all.
Harry: I take it incredibly seriously. The most serious thing in the world. Ever. In the whole world.
Harry: What kind of horse are we talking about here? This should probably be clarified before I answer.
Harry: And it is a good, average-sized horse.
Harry: So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?
Me: My Thanksgiving was nice. Me, my dog and his bird friend made popcorn, buttered toast, jellybeans and pretzel sticks. Everyone ate outside on mismatched lawn chairs; the black guy fell through his. My lesbian friend Patty and her partner Marcie were there, but Patty was being a bitch about the dinner because like all lesbians she's a vegan. But Marcie told her to calm the fuck down, because there wasn't a bit of meat to be seen. Long story short my grandma ended up calling and we all went over to her place. Yes, even the black guy.
11/20/11
Harry: A friend of mine met Screech once!
I am not sure but it may have been the best day of her life.
Hamburgers are tasty. I hope I don't eat your face.
Me: I've yet to see the Screech porno. Once I do, it'll be the best day of my life.
Don't worry about the fat content of my face; the government just declared me a vegetable.
Harry: I saw the Screech porno.
LOTS.
Like, every night.
Twice.
Harry: I WOULD ONLY EAT YOUR FACE IF IT BECAME A HAMBURGER
Harry: Or if you wanted me to.
I am not sure but it may have been the best day of her life.
Hamburgers are tasty. I hope I don't eat your face.
Me: I've yet to see the Screech porno. Once I do, it'll be the best day of my life.
Don't worry about the fat content of my face; the government just declared me a vegetable.
Harry: I saw the Screech porno.
LOTS.
Like, every night.
Twice.
Harry: I WOULD ONLY EAT YOUR FACE IF IT BECAME A HAMBURGER
Harry: Or if you wanted me to.
11/15/11
Me: I learned how to paint octopi on the streets. It's a wonder that I wasn't hit by a car.
My dating pool is full of green water and dead moths. It also smells terrible.
The Vanilli of Milli Vanilli died of a drug overdose.
Vanilli coke.
I feel asleep before I logged out of OKC last night. Honestly, it's a miracle that I'm even able to type this message, because I'm still a log.
I don't have a dating pool. Given then choice, I would have a dating sprinkler, because sprinklers are a lot of fun. It would also smell terrible. For some reason.
The rotten part about being a "non-traditional" student such as myself is that I'm forced to learn along side snot-nosed teens fresh from high school. And my tolerance for teen-related banter is low. I wish I could spray them with water bottles each time they do something I don't like. You know, like people do with cats.
Then grad school was great during my first try. I was 26-28. The average age of students was 27. Perfect!
Now I'm having my second go at grad school. I'm 30. And somehow, in the same school, two years later, the average age is 23 or 24. I feel like I need the newspapers again.
But then I remember that I'm right, and that they suck.
I've been in school for many-a-moon, taking only a few classes at a time. What with being a mom 'n all, full-time is a luxury. It'll be worth it, though. The burden of debt and lack of job prospects will never be enough to eclipse my sense of pride in having a degree.
Actually, that's a lie. Heh.
Harry: Pshhhh. My best friend has four kids and SHE manages to take classes AND get a full three hours of sleep every night!
Me: She must not be as lazy as I am.
Harry: Oh. She's lazy all right. Lazy as a horse.
Harry: Don't worry, once you have your degree, you will automatically be considered to be non-lazy. Officially. You can even list "non-lazy" on your resume at that point.
And "didn't go to jail for graffiti."
Harry: So what are you going to school for? How many kids do you have? How old are they? What prescription are your glasses? What is your best time for swimming a mile? Why Ohio? My dad's side of the family is from Ohio? Why can't I get to bed earlier? What percentage of these sentences so far have actually been questions? Why aren't you a truck driver?
Me: If your friend is lazy like a horse, does that also mean that she can sleep standing up like a horse? If so, awesome.
I'm a lazy, surly, horrible woman. I probably deserve to be in jail, truthfully speaking. I would probably thrive there. Make all those bitches *my* bitches. Threaten the security guards with beatings if they don't let me have my smokes. I would quickly rise to the top of the prison hierarchy. Bruce Springsteen will write songs about me.
Or, I'll just get the crap beaten out of me and raped by a toothbrush the very first night. Yeah, probably that.
Me: I'm going to school for computer science. I'm an average student, and for that I blame the Internet and not my lack of focus and/or drive.
I have two kids.
11 and 8.
I have no idea.
0. never
Because it's easy to spell.
Your dad's side of the family are horses.
Aliens.
9/10 questions were actually questions: 90%
This is why:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Pdlxd_rro&feature=related
Harry: God, I HOPE she can sleep standing. If not, I am sure she'll take it as a personal challenge and try once I mention it to her.
I have no interesting responses to your answers to my questions. Mostly I am shocked and amazed that you answered them all, and so accurately at that!
Your reason for not becoming a truck driver is related to the reason why I only drive convertibles in cliff-heavy areas.
I guess I should be paying attention to this class. Carbon sequestration won't learn itself!
OK it will but that won't help me on the test.
Harry: You may be lazy, surly and horrible, but your face is nice.
Me: My face is nice and it's my best physical attribute. But it all ends once some crazed train bum throws a bean tin full of battery acid on it. Then I'll look like hamburger. And then the train bum will eat it. So enjoy it while it lasts.
I take advantage of anything to distract me from the mountains of homework I have at any given time. Shiny gadgetry that flash pretty lights when I get messages works like a charm. And I'm just self-centered enough to answer any question that is asked of me. If it's about myself, I mean. Don't ask me anything about like, science and stuff. lolz.
I wish all schools and colleges were like Bayside High from 'Saved by the Bell'. That show was so, so horrible.
So horrible.
My dating pool is full of green water and dead moths. It also smells terrible.
The Vanilli of Milli Vanilli died of a drug overdose.
Vanilli coke.
I feel asleep before I logged out of OKC last night. Honestly, it's a miracle that I'm even able to type this message, because I'm still a log.
Harry: I had insomnia last night. I skipped my first class today because I decided that I was so tired I felt like barfing. I'd call myself a log but I feel much too wobbly to consider logginess.
I don't have a dating pool. Given then choice, I would have a dating sprinkler, because sprinklers are a lot of fun. It would also smell terrible. For some reason.
Me: I'm currently in class -- the professor is late. He's in a band, and always comes to class smelling like good times. I don't think he's taken very seriously, which he resents; but when your shirt smells like weed, what do you expect?
The rotten part about being a "non-traditional" student such as myself is that I'm forced to learn along side snot-nosed teens fresh from high school. And my tolerance for teen-related banter is low. I wish I could spray them with water bottles each time they do something I don't like. You know, like people do with cats.
Harry: I had a similar experience in undergrad. I was 25-26, alongside mostly 18-22 year olds. I found a quick swat with a rolled-up newspaper did the trick.
Then grad school was great during my first try. I was 26-28. The average age of students was 27. Perfect!
Now I'm having my second go at grad school. I'm 30. And somehow, in the same school, two years later, the average age is 23 or 24. I feel like I need the newspapers again.
Me: Sometimes I think I'm acting like an uptight fuddy duddy who has forgotten what it's like to be young and spirited.
But then I remember that I'm right, and that they suck.
I've been in school for many-a-moon, taking only a few classes at a time. What with being a mom 'n all, full-time is a luxury. It'll be worth it, though. The burden of debt and lack of job prospects will never be enough to eclipse my sense of pride in having a degree.
Actually, that's a lie. Heh.
Harry: Pshhhh. My best friend has four kids and SHE manages to take classes AND get a full three hours of sleep every night!
Me: She must not be as lazy as I am.
Harry: Oh. She's lazy all right. Lazy as a horse.
Harry: Don't worry, once you have your degree, you will automatically be considered to be non-lazy. Officially. You can even list "non-lazy" on your resume at that point.
And "didn't go to jail for graffiti."
Harry: So what are you going to school for? How many kids do you have? How old are they? What prescription are your glasses? What is your best time for swimming a mile? Why Ohio? My dad's side of the family is from Ohio? Why can't I get to bed earlier? What percentage of these sentences so far have actually been questions? Why aren't you a truck driver?
Me: If your friend is lazy like a horse, does that also mean that she can sleep standing up like a horse? If so, awesome.
I'm a lazy, surly, horrible woman. I probably deserve to be in jail, truthfully speaking. I would probably thrive there. Make all those bitches *my* bitches. Threaten the security guards with beatings if they don't let me have my smokes. I would quickly rise to the top of the prison hierarchy. Bruce Springsteen will write songs about me.
Or, I'll just get the crap beaten out of me and raped by a toothbrush the very first night. Yeah, probably that.
Me: I'm going to school for computer science. I'm an average student, and for that I blame the Internet and not my lack of focus and/or drive.
I have two kids.
11 and 8.
I have no idea.
0. never
Because it's easy to spell.
Your dad's side of the family are horses.
Aliens.
9/10 questions were actually questions: 90%
This is why:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Pdlxd_rro&feature=related
Harry: God, I HOPE she can sleep standing. If not, I am sure she'll take it as a personal challenge and try once I mention it to her.
I have no interesting responses to your answers to my questions. Mostly I am shocked and amazed that you answered them all, and so accurately at that!
Your reason for not becoming a truck driver is related to the reason why I only drive convertibles in cliff-heavy areas.
I guess I should be paying attention to this class. Carbon sequestration won't learn itself!
OK it will but that won't help me on the test.
Harry: You may be lazy, surly and horrible, but your face is nice.
Me: My face is nice and it's my best physical attribute. But it all ends once some crazed train bum throws a bean tin full of battery acid on it. Then I'll look like hamburger. And then the train bum will eat it. So enjoy it while it lasts.
I take advantage of anything to distract me from the mountains of homework I have at any given time. Shiny gadgetry that flash pretty lights when I get messages works like a charm. And I'm just self-centered enough to answer any question that is asked of me. If it's about myself, I mean. Don't ask me anything about like, science and stuff. lolz.
I wish all schools and colleges were like Bayside High from 'Saved by the Bell'. That show was so, so horrible.
So horrible.
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