This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I Play Sims (part31)

Yet again, it's time for me to say thank you to a fellow Simmer who's gifted me some loot for my game. So, thanks, Nick Folsom - everything looks great in my Legacy home. Obser-uhv:

Now - let the great experiment begin!

It looks as though the maid isn't the only person to whom Darryl is attempting to administer sugar.

Oh hey, there's Suri ... how do you feel about Darryl chatting up the maid and giving your mother flowers and food crumbs from his pockets?

Jeez, it was just a question. Touchy.

Alright, Suri - I've taken the hint.  We don't need to bring Britney into it at this point.  There must be a less constructive way for you to vent your spleen. Maybe you could destroy something?

You've got this under control here, so I uh ... yeah. I'll go see what's afoot downstairs.

The next day is Stanley's birthday - he's becoming a full-fledged adult, a pretty important day in anyone's life - but the morning starts out like any other day in the Rosenzweig household.  For Rachel, that means the four Bs:

Let's all gather around, before this day ends.  I mean cake, people. Cake.

We should wrap this party up, I think your mother is asleep on her feet. Age up, I command it.

Go find yourself a girlfriend. The neighbors are talking.

I Play Sims (part32)

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Tuesday, November 22, 2011

I'd tapas that.

Let's get the hell started. Oh, wait - before we flop in with both arms, for those of you with a feverish hankering for Little Miss Mae, do click hereabouts.

Since one can never get enough of themselves making sarcasms at those tender souls who just can't resist the allure of free credits, here's the crap I say almost solely for my own amusement.


More of this happy horse shit (thank gorsh this is the last batch):

I tripped over this link and almost broke my ankle. You know, if you kids don't start cleaning up after yourself, I may just have to stop caring. Eh, forget it. Throw stuff where ever you want. I'll probably be passed out under the pile that's moving a little. Don't wake mommy up.

I've got a huge spider trapped under a bowl. I've left a note for my husband with instructions on where to find this bowl, along with a request to kill it. What's the moral in this story? Don't crawl around on my living room floor when I'm not wearing socks. Four eels.

Guaranteed 100% Tatum O'Neal free since 2010!
I know, I should really add some Tatum O'Neal to my blog, she's as cute as bundle of puppies, singing gangsta rap.

Do you smell that? I think something's burning. In my blog. Be a dear and check on it for me, I'm not wearing socks and there's a whole procedure for bloggery when I'm sockless (trust me, you DON'T want to know). It's just easier this way.

The Grievances blog - now, and always, 100% grid-free and walls UP. Why? Because I CARE.

If you read this, I promise that a band of roving hobos won't begin camping out in your back yard, re-naming the space "Hoboton" or raiding your pantry for pork and beans and throwing a fit when there isn't any.  Although there is a SMALL chance you'll get a rash.


Here are a couple screen caps I gathered from nowhere near the Sims 3 Facebook fan page:


Here's some of the conversations I have without the aid of an invention:

Me (to my stomach): Don't get gas.
Eldest Child (age 3): Don't get gas.  Don't get gas.
Me: You're gas.
EC: You're gas.
Me: No, you're gas.
EC: You're gas.
Me: Your mama.
EC: Mama's gassin'.

Eldest Child: I can spit to Tijuana. (I'm 85% sure this is what he said.)

Husband: This just in: high-fives can give you cancer.

Me: Oh my god. Gina wants to be named after one of Bunny's chickens.
Him: What's the name?
Me: Gina, I guess.
Him: Wait ... what?
Me: Gina wants to be named after one of--no. She wants Bunny to name one of her chickens after her.
Him: Oh.
Me: Does that make sense?
Him: Neither version surprises me ... if Bunny had a chicken named Miss Cluckins.

Me: I haven't had any stomach cramps today at all.
Him: Mmm.
(three seconds pass)
Me: (in reference to something on tv) Reminds me of Pee-Wee.
Him: What?!
Me: Pee-Wee ... like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure ... like when he was in the dark and it was just his eyes looking around.
Him: Oh!  I thought you were talking about your poop.


Finally, a couple of these.

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Mae I please have your attention?

Ever since my run-in with Mae on the Sims 3 Facebook fan page, people have been sending me screen caps of the extremely vital things she posts there.  They range from the indignant to the passive-aggressive to information only a stalker could love.

Of course it is. *nods*

I've gotta give Amy - The Sims 3 a few internets for holding down the snark fort in my absence.
Thumbs way, way up.

Now, what could our Mae possibly say next?

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Tuesday, November 15, 2011

I Play Sims (part30)

Before we get started, I'd like to introduce you to the 3rd official painted Nicomo, author of Trapped in Someone's 101 Baby Challenge (Original Sims 3 story):


Where did we leave off last time? Oh, right. Unfettered dread and terror.

It's the censored version, anyway.

Once everyone is back home, Suri quickly hands Poppy off to Rachel and meets with Darryl in the den.

That's it. I. am. outta here.

I mean, congratulations. But I'm still not going to continue lurking at this window, whipping myself into a self-righteous tizzy. As much fun as that is.

How's Rachel?

Where's Stanley?

You can never be too careful.

Uh-oh. That cunning maid is here, and Darryl has taken leave of his senses to engage her in conversation.

Even still, Suri takes offense and decides to confront her.

Say What!

I Play Sims (part31)
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