Saturday, November 26, 2011

A response to Lemons. Not the actual fruit, though...stop nitpicking and just read it.

My friend Sam of Sacto Food and Insurance recently posted about a strange tradition his family has involving lemons. Not strange as in we-use-lemon-zest-for-our-human-sacrifices, but more like we're-a-family-of-dorks-that-come-up-with-weird-games-because-we-can-and-because-it's-better-than-zesting-each-other-and-arguing-over-who's-turn-it-is-to-kill-Uncle-Bill.

So, you know. Not strange at all.

And I was going to post a comment about my favorite thing about lemons, but I thought it was blog-worthy because, honestly, I spend too much time reading other people's blogs instead of updating mine and so I should probably just isolate myself from the rest of the world because maybe then I'll actually get something done. Except I'm pretty sure that isolation would mean that I wouldn't even be able to update my blog because the Internet is the world and unless my telepathic blogging powers improve, I still need a laptop and Internet.

Call now to find out about free shipping. But wait, there's more! Call now and we'll throw in a free Crazy Critter!

Sorry. I just got my telepathic blogging confused with the television commercial that I didn't even know I was paying attention to. Wait--does that mean the advertisers are communicating telepathically to me so I can write telepathically to you about Crazy Critters? Touche, dog vacuum cleaner people.

I just had to re-read the beginning of this post because I forgot what I was talking about. Lemons. I was talking about lemons. And human sacrifices. Which pleases the gods way more if they involves lemon zest. I know these things because I watch National Geographic.

In order to understand the awesomeness of lemons, you'll need a hyperactive dog and a lemon. Give said lemon to dog to play with. Watch dog and laugh when her teeth break through the peel and she suddenly realizes that what you gave to her was not a ball, but some sour-tasting ball impostor. Like an alien ball or something. And then laugh some more when she stares at you while licking her lips with that bitter beer look on her face.

But don't leave the room just yet, because soon enough, the dog will smell the lemon. She'll think, maybe it wasn't what created that weird taste. Maybe it was aliens. It's always aliens to your dog if you train it right. And so happy puppy forgets about her first taste of lemon, picks it up, tastes it again, and immediately drops it. And then stares at you with contempt. It's absolutely hilarious to watch, especially if your dog is a little slow and tries to play with the lemon again and again. I'm pretty sure this is like an official dog IQ test.

And if you smell lemons during the middle of the night while you're sleeping, you might want to wake your sleeping ass up and run because your dog is probably very pissed off and may be trying to kill you. But at least her breath smells nice. It's a win for everyone.

Side note: I found this talking cat thing and made it say "If I were you, I wouldn't fall asleep tonight. Just sayin'. I may be a zombie. Or I may just want to eat you because I've always wondered what human flesh tastes like. Either way, I'm feeling a little bite-y today." Except it says it in the Nigel voice and every time I play it, I giggle a lot and I want to show it to Pat, but he's taking a nap right now and I can't send it to him without signing up for a free trial and I'm pretty sure free trials are just made up by companies so they can steal your soul. But the joke's on them because by the end of your life, you've already signed up for a million free trials to get pudding and send murderous talking cats to people, so they really only get a small portion of your soul. And there's nothing you can do with 0.000000005% of a soul, except maybe mash it together with the other small soul pieces you have. And I'm pretty sure that's how monsters are made. So, really, I'm saving us all from monsters by having this talking cat waiting to do his shit on another tab for the past hour (Pat takes long naps), even if it's slowing my computer down. That's sacrifice, y'all. The martyr kind, not the kind with lemon zest.

Side note 2: I just showed the homicidal talking cat to Pat and he just laughed. Not even a lot. But when I told him that waiting for him to get up so I could show it to him, he said "really?!" like I had said that I wanted to season him with lemon zest. But really, I'm saving his life from mashed-up-soul monsters.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Giving Thanks...brought to you by the letter "B"

It's Thanskgiving Day, and while I'm sifting through the insane amounts of "Happy Thanksgiving" posts on Facebook, I thought I'd share in the odd festivities (think about it: today is the day we're supposed to give thanks, but not many do that now because they just want to eat. So instead, we stuff ourselves silly on a meal that took hours and hours and hours to cook and then lay on the couch in a food coma while our bodies digest enough food to make room for dessert. Best. Holiday. Ever). So I present to you: the things I am thankful for...


Friends, family and all that junk. Let's just be honest here. If I didn't put this first, I'd start getting calls from family members because they don't understand how I could possibly be more thankful for farts than them. And then I'd probably end up disowned or something. So let's just get it out of the way.


Cats with extra toes. It's evolution in the making.

The Internet. Because without it, where would we go to learn things? And get our porn?

Farts. Because they're funny and useful for many things--clearing some space in your stomach, ruining touching moments, giving your fiance a dutch oven (hi honey! I love you!) and clearing out a room for some much-needed alone time.

Burps. They're like farts, but from your mouth.

Dogs that fart and burp. One of the best laughs I've ever had was when Luna burped while licking her...um...private area. Just thinking about it makes me feel all giggly.

Rubber band balls. Did I ever tell you that Sir Baron Bouncy Biggles Barnum Baxter Francis III came back? Well, he did. And he's been an asshole ever since, but as long as I can bounce him around on my desk, I'll deal.

Bed. Because it's super awesome and warm.

Turkey basters WITHOUT holes in them. When I was a kid, I was burned by a leaky turkey baster. In the place that would've been my boob if I had any then. Ever since then, I've had a very delicate relationship with basters. As long as they don't have holes in them where they can horribly burn me with hot turkey jizz, I'll give them credit for making turkeys juicy and delicious--that is what they do, right?

Being a college graduate. Thanksgiving sucks when you have midterms or finals to worry about.

Bacon. The 8th-10th wonder of the world. Yeah, that's right. Bacon is so awesome that it's more than one wonder. I mean, is there anything that can't be made better with bacon? No. Even bacon tastes better with bacon.

Smartphones. Recently, Pat and I joined the world of smartphone ownership. So now, not only can we check our twitter on the go, but we have more ways to avoid talking to someone in an awkward situation. Maybe I'm getting an important text message, or maybe I'm just playing Words With Friends. Either way, I'm not paying attention to you.

Beer. For making life more fun.

Boobies. I have them, you want them.

Breakfast served all day. Pat and I never wake up in time for breakfast, but we don't want to miss out on the most important meal of the day. So it's nice when places will give us breakfast, even after all the normal people have already had theirs. No thanks to you, McDonald's.

I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot of awesome things start with "B." So not only is this post like a cornucopia of awesome things that we should all be thankful for, it's like Sesame Street over here now. I'm teaching your children about B and all the fun things it bring. Kids: B is the awesomest letter in the entire alphabet. It'll kick G's ass! Unless it's your grade, and in that case, it's not good enough and you're a disappointment to mommy and daddy.