I have a metric assload of stuff to do today and I’m still a little frazzled from accidentally shutting off the alarm this morning and then waking up at 7:00, so today’s rapier wit comes to you as snippets of conversation with my friends and husband.
Ken: What do you call those black birds with the red wings?
Me: … Red winged black birds.
Me: I want to rip the head off a cow and use its head as a helmet while I feast on its slightly charred flesh. This. This is bloodlust at its finest.
Mom: Are you my child?!?
Me: If by this you mean are you somehow genetically responsible for my overwhelming and insatiable anemia? To this I have to respond with an unmistakable, emphatic, and resounding…maybe.
To my friend Steve at a concert:
My gum is stale and tasteless. Like this bitch next to me whose hair I’m going to spit it in if she doesn’t shut up.
Ken: I’m trying to be all romantic, because I love you and shit.
Jason: That sounds like a line from a show on the Insane Clown Network.
Me: Did you just call Ken a Juggalo?
Jason: If the clown paint fits…
Me: I don’t know if he even knows who ICP is…
Sis in Law: I know all about ICP.
Me: Then we, as your family, have failed you. I am so sorry.
Me: Wow. I’m just finding out that Atreyu covered You Give Love a Bad Name, and I’m still not amused.
A different Jason: I can’t believe you gave me shit about The Smashing Pumpkins and you listen to horrible bands like Atreyu.
Me: There’s a difference between listening to something because it comes on the radio and listening to something because you want to have Billy Corgan’s gay, awkward love child.
Different Jason: I find the man talented. I wouldn’t have his love child. If I were to go gay, it would be for Gavin Rossdale. That’s a hunk of man right there.
My friend Michael, describing me and two of his other female friends:
“When you use words, not one of you is a decent, sane person.”
Me, on the joys of a 10 year old vehicle:
For as much as I just spent on service for this car, this car should be servicing me.
Talking to my brother on the phone:
Brother: Did you guys get your Christmas presents?
Brother: Well that’s bullshit. I mailed them out 3 weeks ago. I’ll track them when I get home.
Me: You should do that. If there’s presents out there, I want them.
Brother: Well, looks like they’re going to be a tad late.
Me: Ya think? At this rate, you’ll be in time for our birthdays.
Brother: Well then, happy birthday!
Me: This does not absolve you of getting me a birthday present, just so you know.
**Still no Christmas presents. The gifts are a lie.
After I found an egg with a double yolk while making breakfast on Easter:
Me: It kind of looks like they never finished dividing.
Ken: Conjoined Twins!
Me: Only one tried to consume the other.
Ken, to the cat: Look, Mowgli! It’s an Easter miracle!
Discussing my disdain for facial hair on my husband:
Ken: It’s a good thing I’m not a Muslim.
Me: That goes doubly for me, since I’m pretty sure I’d get stoned. And not in that fun, psychotropic way.
Referring to a closed door meeting between my boss and our possibly-not-quitting maintenance tech:
Me: I’ve heard the F-bomb twice, “bullshit” countless times, and they’re yelling after only 5 minutes. Should I be expecting some slams?
Coworker: What would they be slamming?
Me: Heads in desk drawers? That’s how I’d play it…
Making clear my dissatisfaction at having to go to the library:
Ken: You don’t have to come inside; you can stay in the car. I’ll crack the window like you’re a border collie.
Best of luck with the coming week, people.