Things Got Weird After The Pickle.

Nonsense.
Mr. Zoom handed me the garlic salt and said “Here, you can help by putting this away for me while I take out the rest of the trash.”
“Ok, but you’re going to have to tell me where it goes.”
“What?!  You don’t know where the spices are kept?”
“This is not a loophole.  You knew this before you married me.  I can’t cook, and even if I could, I wouldn’t do it because I hate it.  I don’t know where we keep this ehhhh … thing.”
“You don’t know where the spices are kept.”  Roll laughter and finger pointing.
“Look, if you don’t tell me where it goes, I’m putting it in the fridge.  That’s where I put things by default if, say, my husband decides to laugh at me instead of TELL ME WHERE THEY GO.”
He continued to laugh so hard that he had to leave the room and blow his nose.  “Next to the oven, the cabinet on the left,” I heard him say from the next room. Too late.

Mr. Zoom handed me the garlic salt and said “Here, you can help by putting this away for me while I take out the rest of the trash.”

“Ok, but you’re going to have to tell me where it goes.”

“What?!  You don’t know where the spices are kept?”

“This is not a loophole.  You knew this before you married me.  I can’t cook, and even if I could, I wouldn’t do it because I hate it.  I don’t know where we keep this ehhhh … thing.”

“You don’t know where the spices are kept.”  Roll laughter and finger pointing.

“Look, if you don’t tell me where it goes, I’m putting it in the fridge.  That’s where I put things by default if, say, my husband decides to laugh at me instead of TELL ME WHERE THEY GO.”

He continued to laugh so hard that he had to leave the room and blow his nose.  “Next to the oven, the cabinet on the left,” I heard him say from the next room. Too late.

Huge Public Apologies to Weselec and Kellydeal. And The Entire Internet.

So um, I got reblogged by Weselec a while ago, and for some odd reason I thought it was Kellydeal who did that and I credited the wrong person and oh, I just feel awful.  Awful and more face palmery than you can even imagine.

Weselec, I’m so sorry.  And thank you for the nice things you said.   

Look people, the scary truth of it all is that you don’t have to have children to become your parents.  And right now I’m about 3 mouse clicks away from making my own mom look like a fucking genius in working the internet.

I might have to bring back the shoes to even make the slightest dent in trying to make it up to you.

Email to Mr. Zoom, because this qualifies as a 911 situation in our world.  The photo is dark and bad because, well, loo lighting and I was using my cell phone.  I had to work fast.  I’ve already got a questionable reputation and while I don’t mind that, I don’t fancy adding “photos while peeing” to it.
_______________________________
So I go to the loo, close the door and BAM.  This is hanging on the hook.
And I was soooo excited, and wanted to make a caption for it.  I ran back to my desk, found a bubble pack envelope, put my cell phone and my ptouch in it so I could walk around and nobody would see me with those items. I went back in the loo and typed out “And I thought the interviews here were rough …” Print, stick, picture, pee,  
AND HERE WE ARE!  You can barely see the ptouch tape above it. 
_______________________________

What was his only question? “How big is it?”

Email to Mr. Zoom, because this qualifies as a 911 situation in our world.  The photo is dark and bad because, well, loo lighting and I was using my cell phone.  I had to work fast.  I’ve already got a questionable reputation and while I don’t mind that, I don’t fancy adding “photos while peeing” to it.

_______________________________

So I go to the loo, close the door and BAM.  This is hanging on the hook.

And I was soooo excited, and wanted to make a caption for it.  I ran back to my desk, found a bubble pack envelope, put my cell phone and my ptouch in it so I could walk around and nobody would see me with those items. I went back in the loo and typed out “And I thought the interviews here were rough …” Print, stick, picture, pee,  

AND HERE WE ARE!  You can barely see the ptouch tape above it. 

_______________________________

What was his only question? “How big is it?”

The New Math

  • Mr. Zoom: "I got an email that the local ice rink is starting a four on four hockey league."
  • Me: "So, that's one goalie and three other guys on each side?"
  • Mr. Zoom: "No, they don't count the goalie. So yes, before you start flailing, it is five on five, but in regular pro hockey they call it five on five because they don't count the goalie there either. In your world, pro hockey is six on six."
  • Me: "So basically the goalie is the Fifth Beatle? Or wait, Sixth Beatle. Fifth Element. 56 bit...."
  • Mr. Zoom: [face rub of despair]
  • Me: "...SIXTH SENSE! Goalies could totally have the sixth sense. But not if nobody's going to count them. Six pack. But not in hockey - oh no, you're only selling a five pack in that store. That seems kinda dumb, doesn't it?"
  • Mr. Zoom: *runs away*
  • Me: "What?"

There Will Be Video for Kellydeal

Oh wow.  I don’t even know how to properly respond to nice things like you people, so I’ll just say thank you and continue blushing.

I don’t know when my parents next go out of town, probably next summer.  But I promise to video the laughing dance the next chance I get.  I hope Duchess runs over and trips me, too.

I really wish I could follow more of you here and on twitter.  I feel so bad for the people I already follow because I come in and shoot off my text/picture hole, throw out a few hearts and then realize I’m 500 pages in arrears - which makes me shame spiral and pelt my husband with requests like “Buy me that tour bus so we can roam the country and not have to work” when we pass one for sale on the street.  Which happens a lot more often than it should where we live.  I also asked him to buy me a library but he just refilled and picked up my meds instead.