Tag Archives: Love Is In the Air

More Lessons Learned…

… from “The Last Ship.”

Yeah, it’s been awhile, but hey, most of the funny/fucked up shit that happens to me has to do with The Concubine (without her knowledge), and I almost feel bad shaming her on Teh Interwebz.  I know, weird, right?  Me feeling shame.  But anyhoo…

LESSONS LEARNED FROM “THE LAST SHIP”

Episode 1

  • The CDC is never here to save YOU, dumbass.  They’re here to save other people. FROM you. (Actually, I already knew this.)
  • Jason Dean is still smokin’ fuckin’ hot.  My argument:
And still WAAAAAY too hot for Phoebe Halliwell.

And still WAAAAAY too hot for Phoebe Halliwell.

  • Don’t even fucking THINK about killing the dog, inexplicable Russian ninjas.  I WILL CUT YOU.
  • Two words:  JAYNE COBB! That is all.
The Hero of Canton

The Hero of Canton

  • Jason Dean and Jayne Cobb manage to make up for that actress who looks like she smelled a fart.
  • We are, at this moment, potentially 2 months away from President Boehner.  Wait, wait, stop cutting yourself, I said POTENTIALLY.
  • Radio silence is NEVER for your own protection.
  • When all else fails, fucking do it yourself.  Fear of electrocution is for PUSSIES.
  • If you fail to answer your phone, I’m totally allowed to come over to your place and steal your popcorn and mac n’ cheese.
  • We get issued protective face shields for a reason.  DUMBASS.

(although you did make the right choice, ma brotha.  ain’t goin’ out like that.)

BONUS:  Having kids and a wife is NOT. FUCKING. WORTH IT.  The Night’s Watch has the right idea.

AND ONE CAVEAT:  Naming a character “Dr. Scott” makes me want to throw toilet paper.

I love you, my Hooligans.  And I’ll try to do better!

HH

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Filed under At the Movies, Getchore LEARN on!, I Rule You, The Idiot Box, The Many Husbands of Hoody

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

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

Mystery Solved!

As we have previously discussed, Chuckweasel talks weird.  Of course, HE says I’M the one who talks weird, but I think we all know who’s right, don’t we?  And now I have PROOF — because I know WHY!

We DJ’d a Winter Formal for Chuckweasel’s old high school this weekend, and they did that hokey thing where they announce each couple as they come in.  You know, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Hoody Hoo and Mister Chuck Weasel.”  Which I hate, for one thing, ’cause I was always the nerdy girl without a date, and for two, because if you’re going to do the announcing yourself, WHY DID YOU HIRE DJ’S???  But I digress.

Anyhoo, the lady they had doing the announcing was Chuckweasel’s old English teacher.  And at first I thought our wireless mic was fucked up, because I couldn’t understand a damn thing she said.  Then Chuckweasel informed me:

SHE HAS

A

SPEECH

IMPEDIMENT.

Yes, Hooligans, one of the people responsible for the way Chuckweasel talks… can’t talk right.  Thank GAWD she was his HIGH SCHOOL English teacher, so at least he’d had some training before she got her lisping hands on him!  Only in Wes’BYGAWD Virginny does this shit happen — I wonder if his gym teacher was a paraplegic?

This weekend also taught us that high school children know very well that the words to the CeeLo Green song are not really “Forget You,” because even when you play the clean version they still sing the dirty version and give their mean-ass assistant principal a coronary. (We thought it was funny, and seriously, my own position is I’d rather they said it than did it!)  I was also witness to the largest single incidence of “Cotton Eye Joe” that I have ever seen in my life — which to me is proof the lil’ bassurds snuck in liquor!

And on a completely unrelated note, my latest inappropriate TV crush is the fae detective on “Lost Girl” (the white one, not the black one, ’cause I think the black one is a satyr and they’re hell on the carpets).  Here’s the inappropriate part:  I really only think he’s cute when he’s doing the “supernatural creature gonna eat your face off” snarl.  So, we’re up to a Viking vampire, a snarky midget, and now a faery cop.  Chuckweasel can rest easy!

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Filed under C'est Vrai You Suck, Chuckweasel, He's the DJ I'm the Rapper, My Secret Shame(s), Only in Wes' BYGAWD Virginny, Twu Wuuv, WTF???

Dr. Phil I Ain’t

I just noticed we’re running this PSA on our talk stations, I dunno from who, I didn’t listen that close, but it’s probably the Catholics or the Mormons, it sounds like their style.  So anyhoo, all it is is the so-called “interviewer” guy asking people “What have you done for your marriage today?”  I know, yark.

The funny part is, the people who sound youngish, like in their 20’s and 30’s, all say sappy crap like “I wrote my husband a love email,” or “We’re going to the zoo as a family.”  But the people who sound older, like 60’s or 70’s and been married for a coon’s age — they’re all like “I didn’t yell at him today,” and “I didn’t bring up anything controversial.”

So the message I’m getting is:  If you want a successful. long-lasting relationship — SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Take Chuckweasel and me, for example.  We’ve been together coming up on 5 years this summer, and by now, let’s face it, we’ve both heard all of each other’s stories.  So if we’re going to chit chat, it needs to be something CURRENT — like a funny joke one of us heard or what’s going on on “Jersey Shore.”  Important stuff like that.

We also both know what’s gonna piss the other one off.  So the only reason to bring that stuff up is if you WANT to start a fight.  Which, admittedly, sometimes I do, but that’s my character flaw to deal with!  It’s like talking to Poor Ol’ Dad about God or President Obama — YOU JUST DON’T DO IT.

What I wanna know is, do the people who made this commercial KNOW what they’re saying?  ‘Cause it’s funny if they DON’T, but somehow even funnier if they DO.

“Shut the fuck up, Margaret.  This message brought to you by the Pope.”

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Filed under Chuckweasel, I'm Confused, Jesus and Pals, Random Thoughts, Twu Wuuv, Uncategorized