Finally! HUBS feels better, y'all! Monday night he was in excrutiating-almost-crying pain for a couple of hours, and then...Calm. Sudden, blissful calm. The pain isn't gone, but he's now able to sit for an hour, before he only had ten minutes in a chair until he needed to lay down. He can sit long enough to drive himself to work or play video games on his computer. He's almost like a normal person again, and I am so, so, sososo glad!
That is the best thing that happened this week. Now? Let's look around online...
4) If you've ever wondered what atrocious names classmates are teasing your kids with, Babynamer can help you out. No one ever used Ada Potato on me. But I got "Yo, Adrienne!" all the time. Had to stop talking to a boy over it. Yes I did.
Well, now that I've taken a post Oscar break to shore up my health by lazing about and sleeping all day, it's time to get back into the spring-like swing of things.
I'm not going to talk about the Academy Awards. Isn't that really for the best? I mean, aren't we all tired of leg bombs and Jennifer's boobs anyway? Sure, areolas are nice, but if you've seen one caramel nip, you've seen them all, I say.
Pop culture is such a fascinating animal, mostly because people are odd and original creatures and what we become fixated on will likely be odd as well. HUBS and I, of course, are no different.
Post The Voice/Smash television on Monday night was dead, so we stuck it on Cool TV and watched music videos. An old favorite from The Scorpions came on:
That's right, I said an old favorite. What? Can't a black girl enjoy '80s heavy metal like everyone else? Anyway, this prompted HUBS to look the band up online, where he found lyrics to a song neither of us had heard of before called You´re So Dirty (But Also So Beautiful). The words? Perfect early '80s slightly nasty nonsensical rock. Enjoy the madness!
The breath cold as ice Even though the earth burns Where you are also there I will be I live now, I live here in this world I breath through complete lust
Damn you slam you, eat me like a menu Take it brake it, kick it to the ground Empty hollow, it's so hard to swallow Gotta know what's your size
You are so nasty, and yet so fine I want to lose myself in you You are so nasty, how far will you go Only around me to have fun You tell me yet again about the fact that No one has ever seen you Still I stay just yours, go Through flesh and blood For you, you live in me
Ammo slammo, it's gotta go blammo
Lust you bust you, Can I ever trust you Scare you dare you, anyway I want you Catch you grab you now
You are so nasty, and yet so fine I want to lose myself in you You are so nasty, how far will you go Only around me to have fun
Hard ass lard ass, keep your hands off my stash Holy stoli gotta have a stogie Master blaster, buy a jabocaster Gotta eat your heart out now
You are so nasty, and yet so fine Oh, you're my fantasy You are so nasty, how far will you go To keep me true, trust me not You are so nasty, and yet so fine I want to lose myself in you You are so nasty, how far will you go Only around me to have fun
Phew! Now, if you're like me you were left with one question: What the hell is a jabocaster? Well, I found out for you. See how dedicated I am?
Fueled by my period last Friday, I did something I'd never previously done before: I opened a box of cake mix just so I could eat it dry, right out of the pack.
I know this probably sounds disgusting to a lot of you. But, I tell you what, you get yourself a glass of ice cold water and a spoon and you will not (entirely) regret this decision. Dry cake mix is good, y'all.
If you empty the mix into a bowl and shake it around little clumps of the mix will form, making it easy to scoop up. I actually didn't discover this until I was living on my own. It might be because whenever I made cake as a kid I was supervised, and nothing gets in the way of unsanctioned shenanigans like adult supervision.
This whole thing wasn't as bad as it sounds, either. I was only able to eat about five teaspoons full before it got too sweet for me and I decided to just go ahead and make the damn cake. Which turned out awesome. (Idea: make Duncan Hines Pineapple Cake mix with pineapple juice and add pineapple tidbits to mix before baking. Then, serve hot with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce.*drool*)
Now, on to some funny songs that'll help tighten your abs after eating too much cake!
I love me some Eartha, but her voice and disco just don't mix at all!
Take some time to watch more of his videos. He's hilarious!
Ok, this one isn't technically a music video, but it's still fun!
The whole clipboards on the parking lot thing must be a tightly packed urban area deal, 'cause we don't have that here. But paying 80 bucks for roughly six items? I'm glad HUBS and I aren't the only ones who think Whole Foods is good but severely over priced!
Well, we're still smack dab in the middle of some stray cat stress, and after hearing about all the horrible tsunami happenings, I have to say, don't a lot of us need a laugh?
Welcome to a brand new week, everyone! Did you all have a good weekend? HUBS and I did quite a bit of snow-walking, tire fixing and car-digging-out after Saturday morning's two to four inch snow. Cabin fever had finally struck, and I needed to get out and do something, so do we did.
What did you think of the Superbowl? We took a nap after our outing on Sunday and missed the first half, but I have to say, when you're not invested in either team (and not a huge football fan) the whole thing can seem rather...meh. Do you know what I'm saying? Even watching Green Bay enjoy their victory didn't manage to move me much. Maybe if we'd been around a bunch of fans and feeding off their energy it would have felt more exciting.
I missed all the commercials during the first half, but I was also mostly unimpressed by them, as well. The one where the beaver saves the guy from driving on a washed out bridge was cute and I really liked the Darth Vader Volkswagen ad (I'd seen it on the Today Show on Friday), but other than that...meh.
What Superbowl commercials did you enjoy?
Now, a Music Monday first. I'm having a hard time getting this song outta my head, mostly because it's got to be the only R&B song in the history of the universe that features...yodeling. You read that right, Internet denizens! Go ahead, play the video and marvel at the end of that song. Marvel, I said!!
So, this week has been insane for HUBS and I. Due to construction at the school he works for, he now has ONE FREAKIN WEEK to do THREE WEEKS WORTH of work. This have driven HUBS to severe fits of construction-man anger over the past month. And, because I am a lovely human being who didn't want to see her husband go insane, I offered to help.
On Monday we worked 13 and 1/2 hours (with meal breaks, of course). I was riotously exhausted that night but couldn't, for some reason go to sleep when I hit the bed. HUBS was pumped from getting a good start on all the work and tried to get me to sleep. Turning off the tv, turning on the tv, turning the tv volume down. At one point he put it on a Berenstain Bears cartoon on PBS and, apparently, I finally drifted right off after hours of torturous non-sleep.
Then, about an hour later, I got a poke in the shoulder from HUBS. He had something to tell me. I looked at him.
HUBS: (grinning wildly from ear to ear, eyes wide open and pointing downward as he lay in the bed staring at me) WHO'S GOT BALLS??!!
citygirl: (looking at the HUBS crotch, seeing nothing out of the ordinary) What?
I didn't say another word. In fact, all I did was turn over and go back to sleep. But I remember thinking "This is how stress fucks with you? Really? God dammit!"
Let me tell you, internet, the next morning was quite interesting. HUBS had to take me out to breakfast for that one...
I've made a decision about this here ol' blog o' mine. I'm going to try not to bitch every day. Considering the crap that's going on around here with my no-job-having-no-unemployment-getting-fucked-up-credit-card self, the (I hope) understandable temptation is to blog-bitch day in and day the fuck out. But...
I need some way to relax a bit. A way to push the world away and laugh again. And so do you, fair reader. So, I'll get back to bitching tomorrow (do I ever have a story to tell about today), but until then, enjoy this:
Today is HUBS' birthday (he's 38), and to celebrate this occasion on my blog I decided to relay some stories as written by HUBS in an email he sent yesterday (he's 38). So, here goes...
Hi, folks.
As a school computer technician, I get to overhear some pretty hilarious stuff while working. Such as (quoted from memory) the following.
Years ago, at a Jefferson City elementary school...
Oh, God, y'all. I think I love Kathy Griffin. Have you ever watched My Life on the D List? Or seen her do comedy? Well, I never paid much attention to the woman until our honeymoon. HUBS was having an off day, not feeling particularly touristy and wanting to stay in the hotel and chill a bit. This was totally cool with me because a) it was a hot-ass bitch in South Carolina in July if you weren't under an umbrella on the beach and b) we don't have cable at home, so I finally had more than six channels of nothing to flip through.
In my rabid flipping I came upon a marathon of D List on Bravo. I was immediately taken by how goofy and honest she was. Although, if being on the D List in Hollywood gets you a fucking HUGE mansion like that...well, I think that might not be all bad. I bet Kathy has more than THREE closets in her house.
About a month after we got back from the vacay, I looked her up on You Tube and watched a marathon of her comedy specials. Freakin' hilarious. Then, a week ago Friday, I woke up at 4:15 in the morning to pee and couldn't get back to sleep. I started watching more D List on You Tube and guess what? I was transfixed. Get this, I literally spent NINE AND A HALF STRAIGHT HOURS watching her show. I only got up to eat and pee more. The only think that broke my stride was taking a shower at 3:30pm.
By the time HUBS got home around 6, I had already collapsed into the bed. All laughed out and ready for some serious sleep.
Why do you lure me with your devilish siren song, Kathy? WHY?
Bombed...
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