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





Showing posts with label Doug Benson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doug Benson. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Hey. You got your tapas in my blog.

Let's talk about what Nico's been dreaming:

I dreamed ...

that Barak Obama launched a campaign to get Americans to eat more fruit for breakfast - by waking a woman up by kissing her.  Also, his wife, Hilary Clinton was there.  Uh-huh.

that I was staying with a family in India where I discovered that their indigenous species of chipmunk looked like a miniature raccoon and could fly like a helicopter, with popsicle stick-like propellers.  They were all very, "yeah, whatever, they do that." about it.

that I was dating Doug Benson. We hugged a lot, which was like hugging a stoned, chucklesome teddy bear.  Next, I dreamed that I was telling Husband about the dream and sort of making fun of Doug Benson by saying, "it would be like spending the rest of your life with someone who did this all the time-" and then I launched into what I felt was a brilliant imitation of him where I smiled with heavy eyelids and said, "Greaaaat."  I really have no idea.

that I was smoking weed with husband (this doesn't actually happen) and he handed the pipe to me, telling me it was "beat".  I tried to get one last hit from it and when I blew the smoke out, it came out in the shape of a cartoon donut and fell to the ground with a thud.

that I said to my sister, "We're throwing a horse in a pool full of turquoise gelatin - and you should just be grateful that's the most fucked up thing we're doing."


A coupla scams, a coupla idiots ...

This one, I sort of feel badly about ... I was being a jackass, because it was that time of night where a flip switches and I start talking nonsense and think I'm just too hilarious to live - and she was so nice about what I said. I am going straight to hell.


More of this crap:


Let's get these missiles ready to destroy the universe! Hang on, scratch that. We can't play Sims if we destroy the universe. Change of plans! Let's just take down a few corrupt politicians and maybe steal a pie or two that's cooling on a window sill. I mean, if we're going to go for it, let's just go for it.

It's Friday, and if you're not too busy getting down, or trying to decide which seat you'll take, once you're done mocking me for beating a dead joke, you might consider reading my Sims story. It's got a lot of curse words, so if you're into profanity, it's the place to be.

I'm just taking a quick break from writing part24 so I can boogie this link under the noses of anyone who hasn't read my Sims story yet. While I'm in mid-boogie, it's best to keep your arms and legs inside the car until my boogie comes to a full stop. Disembark carefully. Watch the tram car, please.

My kittens, I'll harass you with my link once more before my Valerian root kicks in and I crawl into bed. This is my Sims legacy - it's not a legacy challenge - but it has been a challenge to write b/c I'm incandescently distractable. Long story short, I was born, did many things to embarrass myself and my family, got married, had children and then I fulfilled my density by writing this blog. I hope you enjoy it.

I'm here and I brought this link. I'm sure some of you have plenty of links, you're positively over-flowing with them, filled right to the brim - but there are some people who haven't any links at all and we must think of them and encourage them to not feel any shame in taking this link. I think it's a nice one. It doesn't smell. Anymore.


Finally, can anyone figure out who this is (it's the right half of his face, mirrored):


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Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Conversations with My Husband 2: Electric Boogaloo

Him: You done with this? ~takes my plate~
Me: Blurmpu. ~splash~
(I've just tried to say "thank you" with my mouth full of water.  We both know ASL for "thank you".)


Me: I saw a picture of Kesha getting eaten out.
Him: Getting what?
Me: Kesha getting eaten out.
Him: Ew.


Me: Do you want to meet Tiny Tim, the miniature tortoise who is smaller than a grape?
Him: No.
Me: Yes you do!


Me: I'm funny!
Him: ...
Me: You're not going to argue?
Him: Nope.


Me: Those postage-paid envelopes are going to get stolen.  I hope they keep them behind the counter.
Him: Is what omelets?


Me: I weigh less than Doug Benson.
Him: Great.
Me: I'm putting that, I'm putting that ... I'm putting that - I'm typing that down.
Him: Mmhmm.


Me: Gew-gle.  Say it.
Him: ...
Me: Say it.
Him: Google.
Me: Say it weird.
Him: Google.  Guggle?  Who was that guy?  There was a guy last night on PBS who said it weird ... Guggle - he pronounced it like "kugel".


Me: Would you wear a Moose hat and go online and be photographed?
Him: I don't know.  I don't care.  Why wouldn't I?  Is it the most shameful thing to happen to a guy?
Me: Shut up.

Me: I like the word "choppy".
Him: Choppy. ~nods, continues reading~


Eldest Son, during dinner: bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles...
Me: What the ... hell?
ES: bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles...
Him: He likes bubbles.
ES: bubbles, bubbles, bubbles,bubbles, bubbles...


Him: Stop spinning, stop spinning, stop spinning ... solve it! Oh! How can he not know!? Solve it! Ahh! How can he not know!?


Me: There's gunna be unicorns.
Him: There's newbie unicorns?
Me: I'll be right back.

Eldest Son, upon waking from his nap: Troubles, dot com.

Me: It looks like Steve's Amazon order shipped.
Him: What? Steambob's onion dip? You need to repeat that.

Me: There were two things I was supposed to tell you today, but I can't remember what they were.
Him: Do either of them have anything to do with me being a nugget-head?

Me: What did you think of my new nickname?
Him: What was it?  I can't remember it.
Me: Try.
Him: Princess Bonnet-head?
Me: No.
Him: What is it?!
Me: Lady Brusselbustle.
Him: Is there a story behind that?
Me: No.


Me: I lost my pantiliner, have you-
Him: (an expression that's a mixture of confusion, shock and curiosity with a dash of amusement)
Me: Okay, that answers my question.  You haven't seen it.
Him: Did you have it when you went to bed?
Me: Yes.
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