Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Boom Boom Pow


These are my go-to funny people in the blogosphere...


QUE SERA SERA: GIVE US BARABBAS

Nick spent Friday night putting on a huge warehouse party with several of his friends. I was coming off a three-day migraine, so I missed it. I awoke from eight hours of sleep on Saturday morning around ten, the same time Nick got home and came into our bedroom to say hello.

“I’m going to get my tea and come to bed. Do you want anything from downstairs?” he asked.

“Maybe some orange juice,” I said. “Ooh, and a pecan twist from the bread box?”

“Wait,” he said. “I need to write this down.”

“Write what down? It’s just orange juice.”

“Hold on,” he said, scribbling. “Hold on hold on hold on.”

“You don’t have to get me orange juice. I can get it.”

Hold on.”


He returned twenty minutes later.

“I thought you'd forgotten,” I said.

“I did,” he answered. “I was sitting on the couch, but then I dropped my note on the floor and remembered.”


DOOCE

Her Screamness Who Screams A Lot And Won't Shut Up With The Screaming


BYE, RALEIGH

The remainder of my holiday in Cleveland was everything it should've been: relaxing, snowy, fattening. Here’s a cheese spread my sister whipped together.

That instrument at the top of the cutting board is a baby spoon. It’s my mother’s subtle way of saying, “This mango chutney is delicious. Also, where are my goddamned grandchildren?” But, Mom. There’s just so much cheese to eat. So. Much. Cheese.


NO ES TORTA

Hello, sports fans! Your favorite duo is back from the desert. Moab inspired us, dehydrated us, and kicked the ass of us.

Rack of Death


LIZA HOWARD'S BLOG: ULTRARUNNING MOM

I went to Barnes and Noble after dinner last night to study for a recertification exam I’m taking later today. A loud-talking couple at a table four inches from mine had the most inane discussion about religion I’ve ever been forced to listen to. About 15 minutes into their dialogue, Loud-talking Girl said, “So, I know I should probably know this, but what exactly is the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament?” Loud-talking Tutor Guy, “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah… and the rest is just pretty douche-y.”

So how do you avoid learning about the whole Old v. New Testament thing? (To be clear, whatever you believe or don’t believe is quite fine with me and none of my business.) It’s just an impressive knowledge handicap. (Of course, good for her for thinking to ask.) Instead of butting into the conversation to make sure she knew the difference between horses and frying pans, I put my fingers in my ears and tried to keep studying. Sadly the “and the rest is just pretty douche-y” bled through. I wish I’d heard what chunk of the Hebrew Scriptures inspired Loud-Talking Tutor Guy to use the word “douche-y.”

Loud-talking Girl: ”Oh, Dave, I just love these conversations we have!” THEN they started kissing. 4 inches from me and my study guide. SMOOooooCH. ”Me too.” SMOOOOOOCH. Smooch. SMooooOOCH. For the love, people!!! This was obviously my punishment for missing the recertification class.

But wait, there’s more. Then the store was robbed. (No guns or horribleness.) (Buttercup does not die at this time.) Three teenage guys set off the store alarm as they left through the front doors and then they took off like rabbits. A bunch of Barnes and Noble employees tore through the store and ran after them in hot pursuit. There was some fine running going on. And then a get-away truck screeched by. It looked like something out of a TV police drama — with more bookstore employees and fewer actual law enforcement types. Are there a lot of things worth stealing at a Barnes and Noble if you’re a teenage guy? I went home after that.


If, by some freak of nature, visiting these blogs doesn't have me chuckling to myself, I head to You Tube for this surefire hit. Leaves me skipping like a schoolgirl every time...




EVERY TIME!

2 comments:

  1. Brought tears to these smiling eyes

    ReplyDelete
  2. You love Jim's blog!!! Woo hoo! Me too :) And dooce. Always and forever.

    ReplyDelete