The Popsicle Rant

I uploaded this video of me ranting about a misspelled and very crappy joke I found on my popsicle. If this sounds like an abnormal thing to do, you are not me. Whilst goofing around with the settings, trying to see if I could get myself to look less busted, I turned auto captions on to see what it would think I was saying.

For those unfamiliar with the auto caption feature on Youtube, basically it will automatically detect the language being spoken, then do its worst at guessing what's being said. It doesn't work on every video, for various reasons, none of which you care about, trust me.

When I turned the auto captions on, it would only give me captions in German. For one thing, it made me wonder why on earth it thought I was speaking German - other than the fact that my first sentence was "This ... makes me angry." At the same time it answered a question I didn't even need to know needed to be asked: exactly how drunk does Nico have to be for an invention to think she's speaking another language?

I set about translating the German captions only to find that I had a super power I wasn't aware of. I am apparently able to write German prose while speaking in English.

Let's take a look.

I'm sure it thought I wanted Fu-Schnickens.

Isn't everyone in Eastern Europe angry?

Everything. Just everything. I can feel it now.

Oh god, don't ask him, me.

His advice?

*sigh* "Just wipe your hands off and take a picture of this. You don't need to make a video of it."

Have he even ever met me?

If you were forced to have that giggle as your ringtone, you'd hunt me down and choke my shit up.

Well that escalated quickly.

In my universe, dinosaurs are zombies.

I'm sure they eat armpits in Eastern Europe.

Why the fuck am I so excited about a one-armpit-ed husband? He could ask William to buy a new armpit, though.

Back to the rant at hand, finally.

Yes, yes - this is important shit.

Lady, you can barely read this.

What-the-fucking indeed.

Mm-hm, angry. I think we've established that.

I can't.

At this point, I drop the camera and it takes quite awhile to get it under control again.

Him: Time to turn it off.
Me: *giggles like a moron* I am not a person to be trifled with!
 

More like an agent of the Pack Preposterous

I really need to stop using that word.

I'm in the struggle. Just look at those eyebrows.

Does anyone else just want to throw me into the bathtub?

and blotchy, don't forget blotchy.

Feel free to stop talking any time, me.

Not fucking in a bunch of rubble could improve your level of satisfaction.

Next time, I'm slapping some powder on that face.

Silver linings, etc

I seriously don't think Husband moved a single inch during this entire ordeal.

To answer your question, yes - I talked about that ding-dang popsicle for like, a week.

Eye roll therefore I am.

I still can't get used to seeing my nose from an angle I never see my nose. It's pretty huge.

Well, at least I'm aware of it.

Daddy like beer.

He doesn't say much in German, apparently. He doesn't have the gift.

"Drink, but not while eating popsicles with bad puns on the sticks."

At this point, I'd said, "letsgeww." (which is "let's go" in a south Jersey accent. Happens when I beer.)

Yeah, our kids will be fine.
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