You know, tapas.

I dreamed ...

that people traveled around by sliding on their butts along all of the Swarovski crystals laying on the ground.

that I was trying to use chopsticks to drink water.

~~~~~

(while playing with a deck of cards)

4-year-old: Bingo!
5-year-old: No, you have to give me the right answer, then you can bingo and I'll bingo you.
4-year-old: *pauses for thought* Poop.
5-year-old: Correct!

~~~~~

My step-dad has an obsession with putting everything in the sink, while my mother and I prefer to leave something by the sink if we think we might use it again. I'd made a salad for my mother, but wanted to leave the cutting board and knife out, so I could make one for myself later - so I says to step-dad:

me: would you allow me to leave this stuff out? I'll make a salad for myself later.
step-dad: "allow" you? what are we, in France?

If anyone can explain to me what that means, I'd be ever so grateful.


I was left to dog-sit while my mother and step-dad took a trip to Virginia. Minutes after they arrived home, they began bickering in the kitchen as I sat in the living room.

step-dad: do you have any AA batteries?
mom: no.
step-dad: are you sure you don't any stored away somewhere?
mom: I said no!
step-dad: I just thought maybe you'd have some.
mom: will you leave me the fuck alone!
step-dad: I thought maybe you might have some, since you use them for your vibrator!
me: vibrator!

Next thing I know, my step-dad walks up to me, with his hand in his pocket saying that he has something for me. He pulls out a packet of grape-flavored Pop Rocks. Minutes later, my mother walks over and hands me some cinnamon-flavored toothpicks, and a bag of buttons. Okay, then.


~~~~~

After leaving Lowe's ...

me: This closet rod shoved next to me is really comfortable. And safe.
sister: *chortle*
me: Tomorrow, I'll get the flanges installed, re-measure, then cut the rod and get that up first. Then I'll sand down the edges of the boards, and dry fit it before I start painting it.
sister: Cool.
me: You know, that dude really softened his attitude once we had him cutting the wood for us. He said we'd do fine on the project, and I thought, "you know, you might not be an asshole."
sister: Yeah.

(medium-sized pause)

me: I think men lie. Like, all the time. They just lie.
sister: ...are we still talking about wood?

~~~~~

At the liquor store ...

male cashier: *looks at credit card* Can I see your ID?
me: it's my step-dad's card. I'm buying beer for him.
male cashier: *stares at card, unsure*
me: should we call him? He's drunk! You wanna call him?!
male cashier: *sighs*
me: seriously, I'm in here all the time, everyone knows it's not my card.
female cashier: *walks by briskly* It's true.
male cashier: *runs card*
me: did you really think I was drinking all of this Bud Lite by myself? Come on.
male cashier: ha! So is step-dad rooting for the Eagles?
me: Jets. I mean, I have no idea who he's rooting for right at this moment, but he's a Jets fan. I gotta be honest, he's probably really rooting for beer to come home.

~~~~~

I went on Omegle again.

It's not like I said I wasn't going to share.

Probably one of the more confusing things someone has said to me on Omegle.

Whoopie Goldberg is offensive to gay people?

I was getting a little grumpy by this point.

But this cheered me briefly.

.

Blog Tapas for Everyone! (you get a blog tapas! you get a blog tapas!)

I dreamed ...

that Ashton Kutcher told my husband "never trust a girl willing to tug you off faster than an energetic 1-800 sex-thin."

~
that while walking down a hallway in high school, I flailed my arm up to gesture and accidentally poked (and got my finger stuck in the corner) of Oprah Winfrey's eyeball. She was really calm about it, and after I got my finger out, we decided we both had to pee. She led the way, opened the door to the rest room for me, and I decided to start pre-washing my hands in the sink with mud.

A young boy walked up to me and I shoved him and said, "get away from me!" I heard Oprah gasp and say, "oh my god!" and when I looked up, she was gone. I realized she'd led us into the men's room. She was unapologetic about the mistake. When I found the ladies room, it was full of young women whose hair indicated they'd been napping on the couches in there since the 60s. They languidly refused to let me use a toilet because I wasn't popular enough.

I went back to the men's room, which was now stuffed to death with handsome European soccer players and they were all very nice about showing me to a stall and explaining how to use it, but once the door was closed, I couldn't move because my boobs were suddenly huger than usual. I gave up and went to class where I found myself holding a crayon the size of a truncheon, and a handbag full of arcade tokens.

~
that someone had made a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid, and I couldn't figure out how to fit it in the fridge, but I didn't want to throw it away, so I just woke up.

~
that I had to report for jail, but first I wanted to grab a quick bowl of Rice Krispies. Unfortunately, I had no bowl or spoon nor milk. I looked up after starting to reach into my box and realized I was standing next to Lady Gaga's boyfriend, who was also eating his own Rice Krispies by hand - but he had poured milk straight into his box. I rudely reached over and grabbed a wet handful and started shoveling it into my mouth.

He was quite put out, yet started sharing his cereal by dropping fistfuls into my hand for me. Gaga walks up and before I can leave, she insists that I try to freestyle a song about how she's a hair stylist. I do terribly, of course, so I just reach down to pet her cat, and tell her that she's a very good kitty.

~~~~~

Sister: I'm going to attempt this applicatorless tampon. Wish me luck.
Me: ugh. I can't do those. my fingers are too stubby. good luck.
Sister: I have free ones and i wore a pad all day. I cant suffer another minute in my own filth.
Me: pads are ew.
Sister: I only wear them when I'm being lazy.
Me: or like squishing around.
Sister: Or like wearing a diaper.
Me: and having your crotch smell like a bloody swamp.
Sister: I just read in detail about this tampon
Me: "INSERT." "YOU KNOW WHERE."
Sister: Looooo
Me: well, I guess it's time for me to move to the couch and stare at the tv.

nice chat. hope your vagina holds your tampon well. I say that with the deepest love. har.

Sister: thanks for the words of vaginal encouragement.

~

Me (on her Facebook wall): you can't hammer a nail with your face, unless your face is made out of hammers.
Sister: Or just one big hammer.
Me: not as efficient as several hammers.
Sister: well, if you use the hammers one at a time in rapid succession, it's more effective. If you try to use them all at once, you end up with holes in your wall.
Me: trust me, my hammer face would be the most sensible.
Sister: of course, of course.

~~~~~

This is a message a girl I know from a Facebook group got sent by someone who has just got to be her new best friend by now.

~~~~~

These are a few ads Facebook actually wanted me to pay for to promote my page.

Now give us a kiss.
.