Category Archives: Twu Wuuv

The Husbands of Hoody

Okey-dokey, so we all know Hoody is… shall we say, getting up in years… and still single.  So it stands to reason she has had at least SOME opportunities to change that status… but perhaps, MORE than y’all might think…

I’m really good at this, yo.  Or perhaps, really BAD at this…

THE (POTENTIAL) HUSBANDS OF HOODY

1.  We’ll call him “Angel” (’cause he’d like that).

                    Hoody was 17 and so, so stupid innocent…ish.  And so when Angel asked Hoody to marry him, Hoody said yes without hesitation… without really thinking of what that REALLY meant.  So things were great for awhile, but the minute things got tough, Hoody bailed… and bailed FOR…

2.  The Evil Troll (because, like life, he is nasty, brutish and SHORT)

                    The ET seemed meant-to-be at first — our mothers grew up together, our parents were friends in college, etc.  BUT… turns out he was a complete and total bastard who broke up with Hoody by the simple expedient of BLOCKING HER NUMBER.  Which didn’t prevent quite a bit of stalking on Hoody’s part (including some involvement of firearms… ‘nother story) and furthermore didn’t prevent her from going back a couple years later for…

ET:  ROUND 2:

                    The ET tracked Hoody down through a friend and tricked convinced her to meet up with him again.  Long story short, all appeared well for long enough that she did indeed accept when he asked her to marry him… only to have him FLAKE COMPLETELY OUT while she was at work one night and DISAPPEAR.  Yes, disappear.  In that he did not come home until his daddy made him.  Oh, yeah, and he absconded with the ring.  So yeah.

But yes, she was stupid enough to go back to him YET again, many years later… but not before:

3.  Gilbert

                    Yes, that Gilbert.  And yes, I should have actually married this one.  Have we not already established that I’m retarded?  So I ran screaming from Gilbert to end up with:

4.  The Evil Ogre (sort of like the Evil Troll, but taller and fatter)

                    The EO was actually one of those “no-ring” fiances – you know, they say you’re going to get married but no bling is ever produced?  Shoulda fuckin’ known… (and that’s actually what led us back to Evil Troll Round 3)… and also:

5.  Chuckweasel

                    Yes, you all know Chuckweasel.  And yes, things were great, as evidenced by this blog… until they weren’t.  As the poem says, “And when she was good she was very very good, and when she was bad she was horrid.”  Suffice it to say, when Hoody got sick, shit got horrid, and things fell apart.  No harm, no foul… except the karmic version, of course.

There’ve been others in between, of course — Hoody is nothing if not a loving and generous soul, don’tcha know!  For instance, even before #1, there was the gal who left me for Jesus… and in between #2 and #3 there was an interesting group marriage possibility with a very dear friend (we’ll call him “Cannonball,” ’cause he’d probably like that better than “Coltrane,” or definitely “”Kenny G”) and… well, a very crazy bitch (there was ring shopping involved, it was at TIFFANY’S, but then the CB showed her crazy, so, uh… no.).

But suffice it to say, Hoody has been around the block as far as potential partners, so:

6.  NOW

                    NOW I know I’m worth more than the amount someone chooses to spend on a ring for me (which I mostly gave back, by the way).  NOW I recognize that I’M the point of the relationship — not what I can get/give/represent for someone else.  NOW I accept that MY happiness is at least as important as my partner’s, and is MUCH MORE important than anyone outside the relationship’s.

NOW  I realize what I’ve done wrong.  And what I’ve done right.

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Filed under Gilbert, Twu Wuuv

Say It with WHAAAAAT?

Hooligans, I can do nothing but present to you, this:

IMG_20130821_154238_725For those of you who, like me, are retinally-challenged, that right there is a no-shit STORE-BOUGHT card that says, no lie; “I Like Having Sex with You.”

YES.  Yes it does.

But it gets better.  Here’s the sentiment contained within this motherfucking treasure:

IMG_20130821_154510_228“Sometimes in this busy world, we forget to slow down for the special things that really matter – like having sex.  So today I’m just taking a moment to tell you how wonderful it is to have sex with you.  For even when we’re apart, I’m thinking of sex we’ve had in the past and looking forward to all the sex we’ve yet to share.  You’re a special person to me, and that’s why having sex with you is so very special, too!”

SERIOUSLY?

Do we really live in a world where such a card is necessary?  I always took it as a given:  If I’m CONTINUING to have sex with you, I must like it, right?  But the best part is the esoteric romance of it all: “For even when we’re apart, I’m thinking of sex we’ve had in the past and looking forward to all the sex we’ve yet to share.”  Back up, Shakespeare!  There’s a new sheriff in town!

So, Dear Sweet Mama and I were taken. the fuck. aback by this masterpiece of the greeting card art (which, interestingly enough, was being sold right next to the “I really fucked up and I’m sorry” section, leading one to believe these cards are often bought in a set).

So of course DSM bought one.

And gave it to the Concubine.

Who almost peed her pants.

MISSION. ACCOMPLISHED.

 

 

 

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Filed under Adventures with Dear Sweet Mama, Aw, La Vida Loca, Twu Wuuv, WTF???

Finger Chickens

As opposed to Chicken Fingers… mmmm, chicken…

SCENE:  Hoody and Dear Sweet Mama are watching the New Year’s Resolution episode of “American Dad,” in which Deputy Director Bullock wants to chop off someone’s finger (don’t worry, no spoilers).

DSM:  So, what finger would you pick?

HH (without missing a beat):  Well, it can’t be my left hand, ’cause I might get married someday and I don’t wanna fuck up the pictures. (You know, the one where it’s both your hands with the bling showing?  I love that).

DSM:  But then it’s your RIGHT hand… and that’s gonna be creepy for handshakes.

Hoody and DSM proceed to shake each other’s hands with various fingers held back, testing for creep-factor.

DSM:  But wait, is it the whole finger or is there a stump?

HH:  I don’t want a stump, I think that’s somehow more creepy than just not having an entire finger.

The outcome of this discussion was the decision that the right pinky finger would be the way to go.  However, after further consideration, I must withdraw my vote for the right pinky, because I hold it out while sipping beverages in order to appear fancy (yes, all beverages).  So, to preserve my fancy, if I ever get married, the poor schmuck other person will just have to hold their hand over mine in such a way as to hide the fact that I have no LEFT pinky.  If I’m ever in a finger-cutting-off dilemma, that is.

That’s love, right there.

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Filed under Adventures with Dear Sweet Mama, Getchore LEARN on!, Twu Wuuv

W.W.w.W. III

We rejoin our intrepid adventurers as they set out for the reason they went to Pittsburgh in the first place: The Grandview Saloon.  I am a little bit of a steak snob, so finding a steak place other than Ruth’s Chris that I won’t find any fault with is rare (see what I did there?).  But DAYUM, the steaks at this joint are SOOOOO GOOOOD… so good, in fact, that Chuckweasel and I spend part of each visit pondering whether the reason they’re so good is that it’s actually people-meat.  If so, I say bring it on — with extra au jus!  We had the porterhouse (a trick we learned from Ruth’s Chris, by the way, when the waiter told us to order that instead of a filet and a NY strip separately — it’s the same thing!) with roasted red skin mashed potatoes, then valiantly restrained ourselves from ordering dessert since we had a car-car ride ahead (we did stop for ice cream later, but that was LATER).

But I cannot mention The Grandview Saloon without telling the tale of the first time the Weasel took me there.  Now, being of the male persuasion, CW is (of course) what you might call… directionally-challenged.  And, because he’s of the male persuasion, he won’t admit it.  This resulted in what I still refer to as “The Death March.”

Allow me to set the scene:  The Grandview is located on Mount Washington, right next door to the Duquesne Incline.  Remember that name, it will become important later.

I had never been to Pittsburgh at that time, so CW was very excited to show me the inclines, which are admittedly extraordinarily cool.  Our plan was to ride up one and ride down the other… those of you who are familiar with Pittsburgh will see where this is going…

The Grandview is located beside the DUQUESNE Incline.  We rode up the MONONGAHELA Incline.  Which you can’t even see from there.  But remember, I had never been to Pittsburgh, so when CW said the restaurant was “right by the incline,” I had no idea he was talking out his ass.

This resulted in The Death March, during which CW kept trying to prevent his death by assuring me the restaurant was “just on top of the hill.”  Which it is… but not the FIRST hill… or the second… or the sixth… But at least when we arrived at the restaurant, he was able to restrain himself from pointing out that it was indeed beside the incline… the OTHER one.

Which we rode down, thinking we’d avoid Death March Part 2, only to discover the only way back to our car was to walk along the river… through the creepy construction site… basically at the corner of Rapeton and Youshotmeburg.  And I, having consumed mass quantities of Iron City (hey, I was dehydrated from the Death March!), REEEEEEEEALLY needed to pee.

CW suggested I pee anywhere I liked, as the area was deserted and it was dark.  I was however wearing a SKIRT, as was fairly sure I would either pee all over myself or fall in the river if I tried.  Then I saw it.

A Porta-Potty.

The skies opened, the angels sang, and I scuttled toward salvation… and you know what?

IT WAS LOCKED.

And yet, the Weasel remains alive to this very day.

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Filed under Chuckweasel, La Vida Loca, On the Road Again, Twu Wuuv, WTF???

W.W.w.W. II

Okey-dokey, to continue the tale of the Wonderful Weekend with Weasel, Chuckweasel had passed out like a hibernating bear in the hotel room and I had gone downstairs to read and watch the weirdos.  And although the book (11/22/63, the new Stephen King) is VERY good, I found myself too busy texting reconnaissance to CW to read very much at all.

Here’s just a sampling of the things I sent… not knowing CW was already pretty much down for the count:

“There are people down here in their jammies and Persians constructing entire sentences out of swears.”

“I’m in the Randolph Duke chair, judging.”

“We also have sad, sad white boy who will not score with business gal.”

“Way-too-dressed-up honkys carrying their White Folk of the Year plaques… toasting each other with ice water…”

“Running tweens with words written on their butts… now being chased by security…”

“Alert! The tweens have eluded security!”

“And they’re headed for the street in their flip-flops and “Juicy” pants.”

“Tweens’ mom has joined the search”

“New set of tweens… these with post-shower towels on heads”

“Have spotted another operative watching and texting… DO I HAVE A GREEN LIGHT???

“Third set of tweens wearing swear-to-Christ underpants as shorts”

“Security has now enlisted the bellmen to help corner the tweens… one of whom just threatened to “go pee outside.”

“Older set of nekkid girls has arrived at bar… their friend told them not to talk to “too many strangers.”

((Brief intermission whilst our operative visits the facilities))

“Back in position… tweens in bar with drunk mama.”

“sad white boy may score!  left with business gal!”

“Why am I the only one wearing real pants?”

“are you supposed to smoke inside? ‘Cause people are.”

“That tux is so rented.”

“Business gal’s friend is sad and alone…”

“AAAAAK! Thought dude had on a t-shirt — it is HAIR!”

“they came back to get sad friend…”

“who is… a HOOKER! Just saw negotiations go down, ergo, business gal is also charging sad boy by the hour”

“6 honkys leave, 2 remain… fat girl and unfortunate Starsky and Hutch facial hair.”

At that point, the hotel staff began gathering to drink at the bar, so I made my exit and went upstairs to hassle Chuckweasel for sleeping through such hilarity.  Again, no pictures, (sorry, Misty!) — my phone camera takes too long to “turn on” and this action was mile-a-minute!  Have to work on that…

Tune in tomorrow for our exciting conclusion… Sunday lunch at the steakhouse that may in fact be serving people!

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Filed under Chuckweasel, I Rule You, Just Call Me Beavis, La Vida Loca, On the Road Again, Twu Wuuv, Weep for Humanity, WTF???, Youse Guys

A Wonderful Weekend With Weasel

Ahhhh… ain’t nothin’ better than getting the fuck outta Dodge, even if it’s just for a little while.  Chuckweasel carted me off to Pittsburgh this weekend for a “dammit we have to get away from here” trip… which of course, included consuming mass quantities!

Friday night: 24-hour room service is my hero!  Tasty sammiches all ’round, a Reuben for me and… you guessed it… the Turkey Club for CW.  He did get a little more adventurous Saturday morning:  We ate at a little restaurant-during-the-day-bar-at-night place called “Taste of Dahntahn” (yeah, that’s how it’s spelled, it’s a nod to the P-burgh accent) and oh. mah. GAWD.  I had “Da Texas Burrito” which was scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, peppers, etc with salsa and cheeeeeeeeeese! DA BOMB!  CW Had something called “Da Carnivore” which was basically an omelet full of cheese plus every kind of breakfast meat you can think of (yes, I had a bite).   And it was dinner (well, brunch) AND a show… we got there around noon and there was a bunch of folks at the bar who I swear hadn’t been home from drinkin’ yet!  They kept singing along with the jukebox and chair-dancing… one gal looked as if she might climb up and dance on the bar, but I think the bartender gave her the evil eye!

After that, it was off on a quest for Iron City beer to take back to the hotel… only to run afoul of Pennsylvania’s weird-ass liquor laws (they still have PACKAGE STORES, can you believe it?  Even for BEER!).  So we went back to the room beerless, but were rescued once again by room service.  Then it was time to loll around watching “Moonshiners” on the Discovery Channel until we left for the movies.

We saw “The Hunger Games” (of course) and lemme tell ya, NO SPOILERS, but Christ on a cracker, I cried like a bitch.  At one point I had so many tears running down my face it was like one continuous SHEET of water… I seriously think I may have gotten tears and possibly snot on the girl beside me!  See this movie or get thee from my sight!

After nachos and popcorn at the movies (hey, I eat when I’m sad!) we were too stuffed to go to the steak dinner we had originally planned, so we went instead to a little sports bar type joint to watch hockey and basketball and snack.  CW had bacon cheese fries and I had pierogies (hey, we like taties!) and we also FINALLY got some Iron City!  There was a brief moment when I thought we might see a fight because some lady wanted to turn the one TV that was showing Ohio State vs Syracuse to the Pens game (already on every other TV, forcing me to cross my eyes and watch both)… apparently she didn’t realize there were several tables of RABID Big Orange fans behind us.  Needless to say, she didn’t get her wish and she left… which then made me afraid the Syracuse tables would turn on US because we were rooting for Ohio State!  But we managed to leave without incident. Le sigh.

Back at the hotel, CW succumbed to the power of draft beer and potatoes, and I went downstairs to the lounge to read and people watch.  I’ll tell “youse” that story tomorrow, so stay tuned!

 

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Filed under At the Movies, Chuckweasel, La Vida Loca, On the Road Again, Twu Wuuv, Youse Guys

WTF??? Megan Fox???

So, where were we?  Ah, yes.  The jury has spoken, and the majority seems to believe it is okay to crush on characters in movies/shows/etc. because they do not, in fact, exist.  It is less than okay to crush on actors, because they are actual real people who do, in fact, exist.

Ahem.  Time for a countersuit.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury:  I present:  MEGAN FOX.

Just about every man I have ever met (including YOU, Chuckweasel!) seems to think this chickie is hot.  I say again:  She HERSELF is apparently hot, no matter what role she is destroying playing.  This is in direct violation of the No-Crushing-on-Real-People Statute of 2012!

Also, she is a mutant with a toe for a thumb and is no longer biodegradable in any way.

But I admit, I myself would totally nail Patrick Stewart, William Shatner, and/or Seth McFarlane.  The first 2 because it’s my civic duty to bang distinguished starship captains (I said DISTINGUISHED.  Back it up, Janeway!) and the last because I feel we all oughta throw the man a bone (see what I did there?) for being so damn funny.

And just FYI:  President Clinton’s obligatory-BJ from-every-American-citizen time is rapidly running out.  You can’t ride that shit forever, Billy.  Ask Jimmy Carter.

Happy Valentine’s Day, all my loves!  Stay out of garages and away from the Mafia!

29 Comments

Filed under At the Movies, C'est Vrai You Suck, Chuckweasel, I'm Confused, Twu Wuuv, WTF???, Youse Guys