Mystery Sister Revealed

c: Did I tell you I met T's sister at the Bartender's Ball?

me: T T?

c: As in T.R., not your T.

me: He has a sister?!

c: YES. As we pull into valet, I was like "Who the fuck is this barbie-looking bitch?" T's sister.

me: HA! Where has she been hidden all these years?

c: Tall, perfect, blonde, beautiful face, big fake boobs.

me: STOP

c: Swear.

me: Hahahahha

c: Apparently she had a seizure due to the boob job.

me: Hahahahahhahaahahhahaha. That's the (not) funniest thing I've ever heard.

c: It's only funny cause its true.

Health Hazard: Ice Luges

me: You are sick?! Did I infect you!?

c: No, I think the tequila ice luge infected me.

me: Hahahahhaha ... that.

c: Shocking ... an ice luge during flu season where hundreds of bartenders had already put their filthy mouths on it prior to me.

me: HAAAAAAaa. You might as well have wrapped your dainty lips around a subway pole.

c: Just licked the toilet bowl in the free clinic. The funny this is, right before I did it I said, "No way, not with swine flu running around." Then all it took was someone to say, "Cooome on ..." and I, of course, did it. Like I said, will power of 1-ply toilet paper.

me: We are poster children for the ills of peer pressure.

"Working" Not in Job Description

me: You are the sloooowest responder today. Don't tell me you're working.

c: I am, I am. Sorry! They have me processing short sales.

me: Haha, it's ok. Just so unexpected.

c: Insert me drooling with a vacant expression and mind-numbing confusion.

me: Bahahahaha

c: Silly job, you think I'm competent.

Nana's Suprise Birthday Party

From: jh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Nana

Sorry I haven't responded before now about the party ... thanks for remembering though! It was a huge success. A major joint effort: C manned the kitchen per usual, his mom made a Happy Birthday banner for me, R came to help me set up, and my dad policed the premises (not kidding) in order to ... keep us safe from church robbers?

A couple of funny moments:

So I had to find a way to convince Nana that she should get her hair did before Saturday afternoon without raising suspicion. Her hair lady was on vacay and Nana had decided she could "let it go" another week. Problem? She looked like a crackhead, her delicate snow white curls fraying in every possible direction. My solution was to lie to her and say, "Surprise! We are getting a family portrait made Saturday afternoon." She totally bought it.

My aunt washed, dried, and "set" (I don't understand the processes involved in old lady hair) Nana's twig, put her in a fancy skirt suit, and off they went to meet me and Dad out "for lunch." Approximatley 70 people had assembled at Nana's home away from home, the church. Even with balloons tied to the front entrance, she still didn't get it. When we walked in, everyone began singing Happy Birthday and she started to cry :(. When we were cutting the cake, she said she'd like to say something to the guests, and after rambling for a few minutes, she ended with the sweetest line I've ever heard Nana say, "All of my favorite people are here. I need to make this last forever." How cute is that?

Now considering it was just a birthday party filled with purchased-en-masse Sam's Club hors d'ouerves and ginger ale punch, I can think of a few things I'd rather make last forever. But Nana loved it, and the St. Paul's rednecks loved it perhaps even more!

The only other totally hilarious thing to share regarding the party is: Apparently a few of the church members are "upset" they were left off the invitation list. Keep in mind these are totally ancillary people in Nana's life who probably couldn't name the last time they've called or stopped in to see Nana. Several women did their best to plant this seed about being upset to Elsie, knowing she would gossip about it and it would get back to me. Isn't that sneaky? When I heard the name of one of the upset women, I made sure to let Elsie know I intentionally left that woman off the list because, surprise again!, she is a nosy bitch cloaked in Southern propriety. Hopefully that makes its way back to her as quickly as it got to me.


From: mh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Nana

I LOVE THIS EMAIL.

Saving and marking as "important."

Happy Thanksgiving, Sherrie.

From: sb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: This Thanksgiving

M and I got home from Indianapolis last night - round trip 20 hours in the car. 20. All in all it was a good trip, just a lot of travel time. We saw M's Grandma, two uncles, aunt, and cousins.

M's Grandma - Norma - is 84 and talks about 84 million times in an hour. She seriously NEVER stops talking. She is so so sweet and always wants to be part of the action, so she just talks. Even when she has no idea what's going on ... she just talks. She also calls me Sherrie, almost exclusively. Fifty percent of the time she catches herself and then immediately calls me by the right name. She introduced me to her neighbors at the mall as her "friend Sherrie." When she isn't talking, she is mouthing things silently from across the room. Things like, "Do you want apple cider?" (Insert no mouth noise, just extremely animated facial features and lots of hand waving.)

We did go to a bar called Daddy Jacks that would have KILLED you all. M renamed the place Granddaddy Jacks because it was a haven of Sugar Daddies and Cougars (just in age, there were no young men there). We were the youngest people there by 15 years. A granddaddy named George took a liking to Sherrie and would not leave me alone. He was tubby, wore a sweater vest, and flew in that day on his own jet.


From: nk@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: This Thanksgiving

Sherrie, that Thanksgiving sounds amazing.
I'm going out on a limb here, but she isn't Asian is she?
ROR!


From: jh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: This Thanksgiving

HAHAHA. M's Asian grandma! That is the greatest mental image ever!


From: nk@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: This Thanksgiving

I tried to find an actual image to help solidify that mental picture. FAIL!
Warning: do not try to google image search Asian redhead.


From: lb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: This Thanksgiving

Sherrie, did you listen to any books on tape during your 20 hour journey?


From: sb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: This Thanksgiving

UGH. Unfortunately, no. We listened to my little Asian mother-in-law's Prime Country station on Sirius. Even Sherrie has her limits.

Dad's New Full-Keyboard Cell Phone

dad: Do you want to go to Don Pepe's and eat vast quantities of crap?

me: Agh, I'm torn because I brought my yoga clothes to work but I really just want to go home and lay on the couch.

dad: That is all wonderful, but what's the answer?

me: I think I'm going to have to say no and save eating vast quantities of crap for Thanksgiving. Will you still love me?

dad: In the words of Whitney Houston, I will always love youuuuuuu.

Another Case of the Nanas

From: jh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Nana story

I just experienced one of my new favorite Nana stories and I thought I would share. Her sister, Elsie, babysits a 1-year-old little girl in town and strolls her over to Nana's every morning to say hello. So Nana recounts to me something cute the girl did today ... she then follows with this encounter:

Nana: "Her parents are from New York and all the kinpeople are coming down for Thanksgiving. But from what Elsie tells me, they aren't even having a turkey on Thursday!"

me: "Well, Nana, you do realize a lot of people have their own traditions that might not be just like yours."

Nana: "Well, of course, I understand that. But I just think these people are sort of funny. After all, they did name their child Savior."

me: "Savior? You can't be serious??"

Nana: "Well, it's not spelled that way exactly. I think there are a few extra letters. But that sure is what they meant by it. I think that's mighty presumptuous of them to take the Lord's name in vain like that."

I had to know what the actual spelling of this child's name was, not only to restore my faith in humanity that these parents from New York did not name their child Savior, but also to confirm my belief that Nana will take any opportunity - I mean any - presented to turn something not about God ... into something about God.

I place a call to Elsie, who establishes the child's name is Xavier. More importantly, I find out Elsie has already, on three separate occasions, tried to explain to Nana that the pronunciation has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus Christ.

Dirty Little Secrets

From: mh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Why do you even associate with Duke fans?

Disclaimer - I once made out with Olaf. He was about 300 lbs of drunk fun from Durham and E and I were on a break ... I believe C witnessed it and was scarred for life.


From: ac@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Why do you even associate with Duke fans?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. You made out with a 300-pound man named OLAF? How did we not know this?!


From: mh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Why do you even associate with Duke fans?

He isn't quite 300 ...

Pretty much I was drunk, and my friend egged me on. Olaf was in love with me and the day I left school he duct taped a letter to my door. The envelope had Smarties in it.


From: me@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Why do you even associate with Duke fans?

My day has officially been made.

Hangin' with the Holy

j: Leetle M, I have to get to class. Talk to you Saturday?

me: You get it, girl! Yes, yes. I will not be hungover cuz I'm hanging with the holy. So brunch is in our stars!

j: That makes me excited to think about seeing your beautiful face!

me: I can't wait to see you (fingers crossed)!

j: Hanging with the holy! New favorite expression!

me: Hahahahhaha. I kinda like it, too.

j: Like, I like it so much I might hang with holy people just to make it apply.

Wedding Season Planning

me: When is the wedding?

c: May 22nd, I believe.

me: Can't go. Just kidding.

c: I secured my date for that one and one in June today. I will not fly stag.

me: YOU HAVE A DATE ALREADY?

c: Ha, yup. Asked him today.

me: I don't even have guy friends that aren't married.

c: Well, this is just a friend. But he's pretty, so he will make me look pretty by association.

me: Jealous.

c: Ooor uglier? This may have been poorly planned.

me: I just used my brain to make an idea.

c: I mean that's what it's there for. Lay it on me.

me: I thought I sent it to everyone. Hold please.

c: That's a good idea! But you want to hear something embarrassing?

me: Yes.

c: So post-planning-cigarette, I was sitting on the toilet allowing my ass to wage a war on the toilet and was thinking about my bachelorette party (never gonna happen) and I totally want it Harry Potter themed. Harry stripper, quidditch cake, everything. Then I realized what I was thinking and where I was while I was thinking it and realized why I'm single.

me: BAhahahahahha. But it's also the reason why I love you so much.

Volvo's New Moon Contest Is Ruining My Life

me: HOW DO I GET THROUGH THE DAMN VOLTURI IN THE PLAZA TO EDWARD?!?

a: HAHAHAHAHA

From: ac@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: Volturi Plaza

It is AWFUL. It took me so long to figure it out. Here's the best advice I had to give N:
Just follow the path they make for you. Whenever they part to make a path, follow it no matter whether you're going south when you should be going north. Eventually they cut a path that goes sideways and back up towards Edward. Godspeed, my friend.


From: me@email.com
To: ac@email.com
Subject: Re: Volturi Plaza

Will you just log in to my fucking account and get Bella to Edward so I can stop watching her trudge around the robed Volturi? We're on day three of this task ... I'm getting an eye twitch.

Changing Times & Losers

a: Yeah, so I left my phone on my desk last night and by the time I realized it, I was almost home and traffic was horrible, so I said screw it. But I couldn't help that super-panicked feeling you get when you know you don't have a phone. Like, "What if I break down on the side of the road?" or "What if something happens to Nana and someone's trying to call me?" or "What if a really hot guy got my number and has been trying to call but then gives up because I don't return his call?" ...

Yeah, turns out not one single person tried to contact me last night.

me: Hahahaha, story of my life.

a: I swear that phone has become sort of a crutch, or an addiction. And this is coming from someone who's never on the phone and likes being unreachable for a while. How times have changed.

me: Seriously.

a: Remember in '98 when no one had a phone except for emergencies?

me: Ahhh, the end of high school. I remember having a phone my freshman year in college but never charging it because I didn't use it.

a: I know! I took one with me to college just to call home. Crazy town.

me: We might as well have written our papers with manual typewriters by candlelight.

a: HAHAHA. All kidding aside, I would like to bring red rubber envelope seals back. And maybe quills.

me: Quills. I'm totally into quills.

a: I got invited to this pre-Thanksgiving pot luck dinner (all girls) and I was just reading what everyone has RSVP'd for. This girl I can't stand says one thing: "cranberry sauce." I mean, who offers to bring something that requires buying one single can and opening it? At least you could say cranberry sauce and dessert ... or something else to add. Loser.

me: Hahahhaah, total loser. You should reply that you'll bring the bag of Pepperidge Farm stuffing bread crumbs. Dry.

a: No, I'm gonna change my reply to one word: "Butter."

me: HA

a: Or even better, "Butter and wine."

me: This girl sounds AMAZING. And like she could get her sugar daddy to give her a bit of dough so she could bring more than a fucking canned non-perishable food drive item to a dinner party.

I'm Scared

c: Xan-tini with a Marlboro chaser.

me: Greatest thing you've ever said.

Shameful Internet History

me: http://www.bored.com/playmash/

c: Can we play this together?!

me: After visiting a website called Mexican Taint to download the New Moon soundtrack at work, I'm scared to add www.bored.com to my internet history.

c: MEXICAN TAINT

me: I think even internet trolls looking for copyright infringements were too scared to click on the link to that site, CUZ FILE'S STILL THERE AND I GOT THE NEW MOON SOUNDTRACK FOR FREE.

c: Is it good? I heard it's goood.

me: Welp, my hard drive is crammed with pictures of me being hideous and music that I hate and doesn't even have room to extract the .rar file I yoinked from Mexican Taint. So I have to move some stuff over to the external hard drive. I'll alert you when it's on Dropbox.

I JUST SOUNDED LIKE A MEEK

c: Haha, yes you did. But it's ok, meeks would NEVER go pantsless for Halloween. You're safe to live another day.

Old Man Tugboat

c: Actual interaction I just had:

Random Goatee'd Fellow: Are you married?
Me: No.
RGF: Oh ...
Me: [Raise one eyebrow, look back to my blog, wishing to not be bothered anymore.]
RGF: Do you mind if I ask why?

me: BAHAHAHHA

c: [Enter Leo, a.k.a. Tugboat who farts all over the office]
"Come on back to the conference room."
I will be baffled for the rest of the day.

me: You have a coworker ... named Leo ... called Tugboat ... who farts all over your office. Give me one good reason why I didn't already know this.

c: Oh, I have NO idea. SOOO ... there's this tenant in the back of the office. He rents a back room.

He is approx 87.5 years old.

He is a "lawyer" who writes up wills.

His office is decorated with cross-stitched landscapes of the country.
Family reunion photos.

And pieces of what I can only assume to be driftwood, that has been lacquered and set with clocks.

He also has a 6-year-old adopted Indian child.

ANYWHO ... so he is an annoyance to everyone in the office because he talks extremely loud on his phone (early onset old man deaf syndrome, I presume) and hacks up phlegm that has presumably rested in his chest since 1964.

He wears old man khakis everyday, with a short sleeve flannel shirt, coloring differs day to day, and a clip on tie with white, Walmart brand kicks.

Shoelaces ... never tied.

His clients always smell, and always insist on talking to me.

So he tugboats up and down the hallways, farting per step.

Audibly.

Not once in awhile ... every time.

But he gives me $100 in a Christmas card every Christmas ... so I fake a smile, hold my breath and wait for Dec 23rd.

me: I just walked back to my desk to find I have just received the greatest gchat in the history of mankind. Yes, from you.

c: Well, October 27th, I knew it was a big day.

We Heart Working

a: I say MICRO, you say MANAGING! Micro! Managing! Micro! Managing! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

me: MANAGING! Sorry, I came in a little late on that one.

a: Hahaha. One more time: MICRO!

me: MANAGING!

a: MICRO!

me: MANAGING!

a: Go team.

me: Damn, that felt good.

a: If you couldn't tell, boss is back. And is en fuego. Constructing email templates and whatnot.

me: Jesus. I would like to think our college degrees would lead people to believe we can draft emails on our own.

a: One. would. think.

me: Hey, I have an unrelated question. Do you think if I write a story about my parents dying that I am going to cause them to die?

a: Abso not.

me: Ok. Good to know.

a: Fiction is fiction.

me: And friction is friction. Haven't had any of that in a while. ZING!

a: Hey-yo! (me neither)

Almost 30

a: I was just filling someone in on what I did this weekend, and I realized that the highlight was having a burping contest in a stranger's garage while wearing a helmet and holding a hacksaw.

me: THAT IS THE GREATEST SENTENCE TO HAVE EVER BEEN UTTERED.

a: Tried to take pictures on my phone but they didn't turn out too well.

Everything Comes Back to the Bowels

c: Sidenote: I have been having the urge to vom all day ... and I just burped, and it went away.

me: Ha! Your own homeopathic remedy.

c: Yup.

me: You're practically a guest writer for GOOP.

c: At first I was concerned that I was hungover from my three glasses of "Happy Birthday, Mom" wine. Which had me more worried that my tolerance had significantly diminished ... crisis averted. I'm not hungover ... I just have gas. Phew.

me: I had 3 glasses of wine last night. I am hungover. I had to eat Chipotle with carnitas for lunch. Now I feel like a house on wheels. You know, my quick feet being wheels.

c: Well if only you had the Sketcher's work out sneakers on, then you'd be a fly-by house. With a tight bum.

me: I'm thinking of Wizard of Oz now.

c: And now I want Chipotle. But not carnitas. Pork creeps me out.

me: Mmmm, it's so good. Except for the mooshy fat pieces.

c: Welp, there's the nausea again.

Emergency

(804) Everything okay? I missed your call.

(703) Does rye have gluten? Yes, everything is fine.

(804) Haha, yes it does.

Time for Me to Procreate

k: People need to stop procreating!!! It's so stupid and selfish and it's ruining my life.

me: Until I do. Then those babies will be special and it will be obvious they are meant to rule the world.

k: "Special," that's what you meant, right?

me: You got my back. By special I mean creepy.

k: Haha, of course.

me: You know I will have the creepiest kids ever. They won't have any filters on anything they say, nor manners.

k: And I will love them like they were my own.

me: Awwww, that's sweet though!

k: Which means I will try to set rules for them and try to punish them when they are bad and they won't listen to me.

me: Hahahahhaha!

k: Because I'll just be that weird drunk lady that hangs out with mom.

me: HA

k: But I will laugh a lot bossing them around. Oh, what a jolly good time! Please have kids soon. This sounds like so much fun.

me: I'm on it. Just let me find a suitor/male prostitute/sperm donor and your wish is my command.

k: Well, I need to get to work playing Free Cell.

me: Bahahaha, get it.

k: I'll update you on my progress when we take our break. This day is so tough.

me: Good luck. Play for the big win.

Satan's Creatures

p: God, I fucking hate cats:



me: WHY DON"T THEY JUST FIGHT AND GET IT OVER WITH?! I mean, thank god they don't or we wouldn't get to hear those amazing baby wails coming from felines.

p: exCATly. I will never own one of those creatures.

me: God, I hate it when I meet guys and go over to their apartment and they fucking have a cat. It deflates me.

p: Hahaha. Ummm. nah, see ya! I agree. Men with cats is very unsettling.

me: And when they use baby talk. Baby talk to dogs is fine. But cats don't deserve it. And neither does your manhood.

p: .... jsahjal;shdalsjhasjl;hgahgapotwiiopanv

Busted by Lady Gaga

From: lb@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: One question

Is your gmail pic next to your name you as Lady Gaga?


From: me@email.com
To: lb@email.com
Subject: Re: One question

Hot damn, I wish it was me as Lady Gaga. It is simply just Lady Gaga. I change the pic of her out every couple days. Creepy.


From: lb@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: Re: One question

So weird, because it really looks like it could be you dressed up as her.
How do you have so much time on your hands?

Get ... under?

l: She told me I should hook up with him just for fun and because it'd be comfortable for me. But in a platonic way. And she didn't describe it as "hook up."

me: No way, man.

l: She just wants me to get under someone else, basically.

me: You just said, "GET UNDER"! I'm dying.

l: Let's see how many prepositions we can use with the beginning "get." We already know "get in" is fabulous.

me: "Get under" is now famous in my mind.

Bedazzle This

me: I'm about to drop $22 on a Bedazzler on my lunch break. It must be used again after the Lady Gaga panties. You are responsible for thinking of things to bedazzle.

k: My resume.

Your dad.

Nelson Mandela.

The turkey sandwich husbandtown made me.

I could go on and on.

me: HAAAAAa! E is bestowing me with a 50% off coupon! This day is really shaping up to be a winner.

Wish I Was There

From: ac@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: Re: Lurking online

The dog and I had the MOST glorious walk around town lake yesterday morning. Everyone and their brother and their dog were out on the trail yesterday taking advantage of our first week of fall. And, boy, it was a people watcher's dream. It KILLS me when I see people exercising in jeans. Like, kills me. All I can think of is how much that must be chafing. I passed several of those people yesterday, but the last one I was walking behind made me think of you. Let me explain before you think I'm telling you I see you exercising in Jordaches ...

I came upon this super cute indie guy who was walking his beagle. He and I were on the same pace so I was about 5 steps behind him for about 3/4 of a mile. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing jeans, unfortunately. Second thing, that he was really cute. Third thing, that he had a great ass. I was trying not to stare at said ass (because it was RIGHT in front of me), when he takes off his shirt and throws it over his shoulder. Torso and arms are adorned with tattoos. So I start scanning his body trying to figure out what they all are, my gaze always sliding back to his ass. I had to purposefully focus on a spot in the woods while walking so that I wasn't so blatantly staring at him as other people passed us. I thought of you because this guy was right in your wheelhouse. :-)

How was your weekend? What did you do? Any staring at indie boy asses?

Fun with Drugs

From: gm@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: man

(You don't even need the sound on this one.)



I was amazed at how he bends backwards and can never reach the door.
I thought it was CGI, but it was LSD.

Lost in Translation

k: Can you tell that this was written by an enthusiastic Indian man? I can.
"Dining at the restaurant is an extremely delectable and a delightful experience which soothes and rejuvenates your senses in the most suave and unwinding environment. From Pizzas to Dimsums and Kebabs to the most exotic beverages, we carefully craft every meal to be a spectacle that lingers … longer!"

me: HA. I want to have a longer lingering spectacle with an Indian man.

k: I keep saying "extremely delectable" in an Indian accent in my mind.

me: On the radio this morning, some idiot girl called in and they were asking her about the guys she dates. They asked if she dates Indians and her answer was, "I haven't, but I'm a vegetarian, so I go out to lunch with Indian people a lot."

k: Oh my god. I hate humanity

me: Hahahahhaha.

k: Except for this guy who is telling me to "exploit the chefs."

me: What? Wait. Did you write that and you are calling yourself an Indian man?

k: No!

me: Hahahahha

k: How dare you! No, I got that copy from the general manager in India. I need to polish the terds and make them shine for American audiences.

me: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

k: "Slip into the pool deck ..." Um ... NO.

me: This is your funnest freelance assignment yet!

k: I hope all my other assignments come from India. This is too rich.

me: I hope they do too. Then I hope you and Husband break up and you fly to India to meet the man who is sending you this rich copy.

k: "Giving new meaning to Peshawari ..." I would settle for any sort of meaning, new or old

me: The meaning of this at all? The meaning? Anyone?

k: HAHAHA. Oh, you know old Peshawari, that old sonofabitch.

Please, Bare With Me

me: So I just googled to find out the correct use of "bear/bare with me." This is the WikiAnswer I found and I'm about to pee a little:
"Bear with me," is to ask for patience. "Bare with me" would be asking them to undress.

c: The next time I go to have sex ... which could be in years ... I am going to ask them to bare with me.

me: You've just sent me over the edge.

c: Well, if you ever receive a call late at night from me, and I don't say anything but then you hear me off in the distance say, "Will you please bare with me?" you will know that you are privy to me getting laid.

me: please. stop. I have my head down on my desk.

c: Hahaha. Let's be honest. It would be more of an incoherent, slurred, "Puhlalease ... buuurr wif meeee," cause I'd likely be on the verge of voming. Sober sex scares me ... and should be saved for marriage. Or at least after I snort a Xanax.

me: My coworker just caught me hunched over my drawer looking for an oil blotter and said, "Are you having a moment?" She handed me a piece of paper and I only realized I didn't have my glasses on (from crying) when I held the paper to my face like a legally blind person.

c: You say legally blind, I say adorably squinty.

Typos Are My Favorite

a: Buce.
Nice, I meant.

me: BAH!
I prefer buce.

'Lil G

a: Yeah, the funny thing is that I'm almost out of toilet paper and thought I needed more Pepto. So I was thinking to myself that I would be so embarrassed going to the grocery and the only things I had to check out were TP and Pepto. No question about what's going on there.

me: Maybe this is what you have. This is a picture of giardia. J says, "He's the cutest bug ever under the microscope, p.s." Taunting with his happy ghoul eyes and mouth.

a: HA. That's so creepy. Like when stingrays smile.

Work aaaaand then Mustache Talk

From: pk@work.com
To: me@work.com
Subject: Re: Printing emails

Any update on this, MC Copywriter?


From: me@work.com
To: pk@work.com
Subject: Re: Printing emails

Of course not, PK Mustachio.

Coworkers aren’t happy. Neither am I.


From: pk@work.com
To: me@work.com
Subject: Re: Printing emails

Ok, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for an answer by Monday.


From: me@work.com
To: pk@work.com
Subject: Re: Printing emails

I wonder what the mustache is going to look like on Monday. ::anticipation::


From: pk@work.com
To: me@work.com
Subject: Re: Printing emails

I can’t wait.

Pretty much all of next week will be incredible.

Personal Grooming in My Cube

me: I just picked a zit on my forehead and it made me sneeze.

c: HAHA WHAT?

me: I know, right? It was bizarre. I tried to pick it with one hand and then had to cover my mouth for a bananas sneeze with my other hand. It all happened so fast.

c: I have a shit eating grin on my face.

Someone Wants to Talk to You

k: I am eating a burrito right now so go fuck yourself. Your mom doesn't love you anymore. She loves me now.

me: IT'S NOT TRUE

k: She's sitting right here next to me. Here, I'll put her on.
Hi, M. It's C, the mom formerly known as your mom. I'm K's mom now. So go fuck yourself.

me: Oh, I have your husband here with me right now. Let me put him on.
Hi K, it's Husbandtowne. When I told you that you were like a drug and I loved you even though you ruined my life, I meant it. But then I met Candy Finnergan from Intervention and she showed me that you are an enabler. So I'm done with you. And, oh yeah, that song I wrote, it's about M.

k: FUCK. Well, here's Kanye West:
Yo, M. I'm really happy for you, but K's mom is the best mom ever. And you are just a sad, teenage-vampire loving clown who cries over pictures of Lady Gaga's man bulge.

me: Well, here's Taylor Swift:
I'm simple. Let's play guitar.

k: NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT LIKE THAT.

me: THAT WAS TAYLOR SPEAKING FOR HERSELF. DON'T TAKE HER VOICE AWAY.
Oh, wait, she has one more thing she wants to tell you:
I look like a cat.

k: EFFFFFFFF. Seriously, I just ate a burrito. I wish I was dead.

me: Let's sit at the fancy table and have a full hibachi lunch. You won't puke. I swear.

k: I will have a salad and an enema.

me: Will that enema be dine-in or to-go?

k: I'm gonna brown bag it.

Nanny & the Muppet Babies

k: He is like one of the muppet babies. Did you ever watch that cartoon? They were all held hostage in a nursery and taken care of by a pair of granny legs that would come visit them once a day ... they had to use their imagination to escape. It was the most horrific show ever.

me: I REMEMBER IT ALL!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ju75XsCO4o

k: Yessss. Didn't it send you spiraling into a deep depression?

me: I don't think I ever realized that they were held hostage!?? I so remember those creepy stripey legs coming in though.

I just accidentally pasted the muppet babies link into a program.

k: Hahaha. Oh man. Off to a good start today. Can you imagine if that somehow went live?

me: It would be my greatest accomplishment while working here. I feel betrayed that the Kings of Leon king has a girlfriend that is not me.

k: If you use your imagination, it IS you ... and those striped legs are Caleb Followill's.

me: HAAAAAAAa, do I have to call him Nanny?

k: He would love it, I just know it.

me: I would tell him his sex was on fire as I peeled back those knee socks.

k: Gross! Then a black cloud of smoke would come out of his urethra.

me: No. Nanny wouldn't do that to me.

k: I want to dress up as Nanny for Halloween. I'll cover my body in a black box, except for my green and white striped legs.

me: You have to hide your entire top half with a door.

k: And I'll hang muppets down by my feet.

me: A mobile of muppets.

k: Perfect. Done.

Will Work for Bed

From: gm@work.com
Subject: I want you to go to lunch with me

Can y’all go tamari?
Or ... maybe even today?


From: me@work.com
Subject: Re: I want you to go to lunch with me

Sorry I missed out on the email chain. I was too busy eating Chipotle out of my lap and sleeping in my car in the Food Lion parking lot. You know, the usual.


From: gm@work.com
Subject: Re: I want you to go to lunch with me

Good morning, princess. I love you.

Thinly Veiled Cry for Help?

k: Stop being so motivated and making me look bad.

me: Oh, shut your mouth. You have a husband and are good with people. I have to fill my empty soul and mask my ability to fuck everything up with other hobbies.

k: Mmm, feeling a little dark today, my pap?

Don't Be Jealous of My Life

a: Have you ever looked up dollhouse furniture online? There's some weird stuff out there. People really get into it.

me: Why the fuck did you look up doll furniture online?!

a: Long story ... but it involves finishing out a birdhouse for a contest. And I'm going to Hobby Lobby after work in search of doll house furniture.

me: HA

a: Don't be jealous of my life.

me: You should be jealous of my life. I'm in work hell. And my iPod died around lunch. I've been listening to 3 Bon Iver songs on repeat on his myspace page for hours. Starting to consider suicide. I literally screamed MAYDAY when it died.

a: No Pandora there? Or someone with an iPod charger?

me: Fucking iPod shuffle. Pandora irritates me for some reason. Not enough of my favorites.

a: Ya know you can listen to radio stations through iTunes.

me: They won't put iTunes back on my computer because I take up too many gigs. They force me to use my iPod.

a: Hahahaha. they hate you.

me: MUTUAL

a: It doesn't count if you use it correctly.

me: That was the irony! I loved it!

a: And that, my friends, is what you call full circle. Ta da!

me: BAM!

ALL CAPS SPICES UP ANY CONVERSATION

me: Breaking news. S has a class in town on Thursday, so she is coming down tomorrow night to stay with me.

k: That bitch!

me: How dare!

k: I guess I'll go kill myself then.

me: DON'T DO IT. JUST DON'T DO IT. THE HEAVENS AREN'T READY FOR YOU. YOU STILL HAVE MORE WORK TO DO ON EARTH.

k: Tell S she'll have to live with that on her conscience for the rest of her life. I am going to turn the bedazzler gun on my own face. And chug sequins. And snort paint.

me: I'm waiting to hear back from her to see if she is staying the weekend. I don't know. If that is not the case, wanna hang Thursday? Or Sunday night? OR EVER AGAIN IN THE HISTORY OF OUR LIVES?!?!?

k: How about YES.

me: How about CORRECT ANSWER.

k: How about THURSDAYS MEANS PROJECT RUNWAY MEANS YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO TALK.

me: I LOVE IT.

Aging Too Fast

c: I'm already hungry and want lunch.

me: Eat some prunes.

c: What? Prunes? Who has prunes lying around and why would I want that?

me: I have an entire bag in my cabinet. At my desk. They make you poo.

c: I'm good on the poo front. I have egg salad for lunch on double fiber bread. Yea, I'm 78, what of it?

me: HAHHAHAHHA, I just screamed.

c: Soft foods are easier to chew without my teefs in.

me: Stop it. I'm dying.

c: Look who's talking, prunes. Can we live in a retirement community together and drink white wine Franzia spritzers, eat egg salad and prunes, and squeeze the young volunteer boys' butts?

me: YES, but my egg salad will be tuna salad. Hard boiled eggs give me a palsy.

c: Palsy...

me: Meeting. brb

29 Hours in a Box

c: Still bored? Got you something: http://www.2birds1blog.com/2008/09/trapped-in-box-for-29-hours.html

me: Would you rather spend 29 hours trapped in a box with Tyra Banks or Linsday Lohan?

c: LL because Tyra wouldnt stop smiling at me with her eyes ... and LL would likely be passed out from whatever giny-bumping drug binge she just got off of.

me: giny-bumping?!?!??! Foul.

c: Too much?

me: hahahahahaha

c: Would you rather be stuck in a box for 29 hours with Paula Abdul or Gwenyth Paltrow (goop)?

me: The addition of (goop) was priceless. Man, this one is hard. Because neither of them have any idea how out-of-touch with reality they are. I think I'd have to go with Gwyneth Paltrow because she is more delusional in the style of Luna Lovegood from HP. Paula is delusional like she got raped by her dad and hasn't dealt with it yet. And, yeah, she'd probably bring drugs, but I have enough of my own Xanax to tune her out.

c: I'd take Abdrool. If only to spend the majority of the 29 hours attempting to decipher what she said. That and she reminds me of my mom.

me: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa

c: Gweny is just a goopy twat.

me: Okay, okay, I think this is a good one: Richard Simmons or Andy Dick.

c: Oh jesus, touche. Andy Dick. And honestly the SOLE reason is that Richard Simmons partially-bald-white-man afro gives me the general heeby jeebys and Andy Dick is not allowed to touch me, as per the rules, so I'd be safe.

Okay, I gots one for you: XXXXXX or Hitler.

me: S's FRIEND XXXXXX?!?!?!?

c: Yes.

me: BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Hitler because at least I could learn something about such a bizarre historical figure. XXXXXX, nothing but annoyed for 29 hours.

c: And that box may fill with tears. Ergo death, drown in tears.

me: God, that really would be my own personal hell. Okay, okay, let met think again. Rosie O'Donnell or Elizabeth Hasselbeck.

c: Easy ... Rosie. Although, if she started spouting off her fucking poetry I might die, like head exploding from shoulders.

me: She might. It's a real possibility.

c: Meh, okay. Then I change my mind. Elizabeth ... I disagree with absolutely everything she stands for.

me: Me too.

c: But she's so fucking stupid that I'd just wear sparkly earrings or something and she would be mesmerized into a quiet stupor for 29 hours.

me: VERY good call.

c: Okay, lemme think ... Chris Brown or Mike Vick.

me: So hard!

Chris Brown. I would be interested to hear him blather on about why he didn't mean it and listen to his attempt to rationalize what he did and how he's going to fix his pathetic career. Vick is already back in the game and allegedly working with animal rescue groups now.

c: I would choose Chris too ... only to ask him to explain to me why ... then I would break into the chorus of UMBRELLA-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh for 29 hours straight.

me: HA. Taylor Lautner or Shia LeBouf.

c: Oh. Well, per the rules, you cannot have sexual relations with this person in the box or afterward ... and you can never see them again ... so i will have to choose Taylor for a few reasons:

1. He's a child, so hopefully the knowledge that I would go to jail would make the non-sexing easier.
2. That way my delusion that Shia and I will one day meet and fall in love and do it can stay alive and intact (insert me slitting wrists when he announces his engagement to Ms. WhatsHerNameNotGoodEnoughActress).
   

me: These are all well thought out answers, C.

c: It's think of this ... or think of work. This wins. Lady GaGa or Obama.

me: WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME CHOOSE?

c: It's a part of the game, madame. See what you just put me through?

me: Holy shit, I am so torn. The part that you can never see them again makes it difficult. My instinct is to say Lady Gaga. What are the chances I would get to hang out with her unless we were quarantined in a box together for 29 hours anyway? But! I fear that she would lose her mystical power over me.

Actually, no, I don't think it would go away. I think she would stay in character the entire time and entertain me for 29 straight hours.

c: You might break her ... then she'd just be a big-nosed normal girl. Career killer.

me: Obama would have smart things to say that I wouldn't understand. I can worship him from afar and google things he talks about that I don't understand. In person, my lack of knowledge would be so obvious.

Lady Gaga, I officially choose Lady Gaga.

The Boy Whom She Does Not Dislike

me: I heard he stayed at your apartment and installed a ceiling fan and cooked you dinner whilst you golfed. That is major Not Dislike.

e: We're a 1950s couple in reverse.

Whatever Happened to Predictability?

(919) Totally! U got it dude

(804) Your Michelle Tanner shit is cracking me up

(919) I live in SF after all. I would probably love her cleaning belt

Brilliant Photo Retrospective

From: lb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: A task for L

Once I've been a profesh photographer worthy of publishing a book of my life's work (think Anne Geddes coffee table book. jk), I will need a profesh writer to detail my life and how I came to be LBC, Inc. You ready?


From: mc@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: A task for L

CHALLENGE ON! We are going places, my little friend!


From: nw@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: A task for L

L, how about you do a "Where Are They Now?" version of the Anne Geddes books with the original babies as they are now. I'd love to see some hairy fat man with butterfly wings sitting on the palm of somebody's hand.


From: ac@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: A task for L

That is one of the most brilliant things you've ever said, N.

Just Checking

a: How do you feel about skydiving?

me: I wouldn't do it for $100 million dollars. I don't even like the feeling you get in your stomach from roller coasters.

a: That's what I thought. Just checking.

Choose Wisely

c: My coworker M just said "I don't want R's dad to die because then she has to choose between my wedding and his funeral."

me: Shut up.

c: Well, fatty, don't worry about getting your wedding blessed by Jesus during the ceremony because you're going to hell.

me: Hold please, blogging.

c: Wait ... she just followed it up with "I mean, of course I don't want him to die. I didn't mean to sound selfish. He used to bring us cold Taco Bell in the mornings when I would stay the night over there in high school." Insert me ... jaw dropped.

me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

c: I do not have a response.

Shitty

From: sb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Shitzu

No sooner do we arrive home last night when I get saddled with a lost Shitzu in my neighborhood (who C has affectionately, albeit uncreatively, dubbed "Shitty"). My stepmom found him wandering in the neighborhood so she opened the car door and called to him to get him out of the road. Well, Shitty hopped right into her car. After trying unsuccessfully to find Shitty's parents, I hung signs at 11pm in the neighborhood and brought Shitty home to the our residence. What should I do with a male Shitzu who responds to Shitty and wears a knock-off Burberry collar? I am getting ready to call Animal Control to see if anyone has reported a lost dog.


From: ac@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Shitzu

You do what any normal person would do. You buy him a tiny tuxedo and have Olan Mills posed portraits made of him, which you promptly hang throughout your home. Then you keep him and love Shitty like your own.


From: sb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Shitzu

I just choked on my Tropical Cafe Smoothie. He would look damn handsome in a mini tux.


From: nw@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Shitzu

I fucking hate Shitzus. Just the other day, I watched an episode of Dogs 101 that my mom had recorded that featured Shitzus, thinking it might make me like them more. But I don't; they're ugly and have goopy eyes.

Worse Than Crazy: Knowing You're Crazy

c: Ugh, Megan Fox, just shut your fucking mouth, stand there and look hot and pout. That's your only role in life.

me: Her head is getting BUSY.
I mean BIG. I don't know what made me type busy.

c: And all in caps too. That took energy.

me: I think I'm losing my mind. I couldn't find my speedometer yesterday on my way to work for the life of me.

c: Haha, WHAT? Did you steal a car?

me: No! It was my car! I was looking at a different set of controls and wondering why they were all staying steady when my speed was going up and down. And my heart started to race because I knew I was crazy. And then I snapped out of it and realized the speedometer was the huge circle to the right.

Then that night I used some butter and stored it in the microwave when I was done.

c: Hahahahahaha, M you are going insane.

me: Wait, there's one more.

c: You're one step into dementia.

me: Ever since I woke up this morning, I've been steering to the right when I walk. I first noticed when I was headed for my alarm clock this morning and ended up at the coat rack. Veering off course all day like a grocery cart with a wonky wheel.

c: And are you sure you didnt have a stroke?

me: There's no telling.

c: Or are you a kitten and did someone cut off your whiskers?

me: BAH! Kittens don't forget where their speedometers are. And they wouldn't store butter. They'd just eat it.

Snill Sniggling

m: Alright, here I go. Ruv you, snupcake.

me: Ruv you, sniendlie.

m: Have fun at the snarty! We are going to Snappy Snour tonight.

me: God, I love the "sn" game.

m: It makes me sniggle.

me: HA

m: Later, sniend.

The Little Guy in a Tux

To: thegirls@email.com
From: ac@email.com
Subject: (no subject)

Anybody want to take my place moving today/tomorrow? I fucking hate moving. And I'm hemorrhaging money with all the shit I'm buying.

I wish Baby Jesus would come down and solve all of my problems in his tuxedo t-shirt.

(P.S. I had to look up how to spell hemorrhage b/c I couldn't figure it out for the life of me.)

Community Service with J.C.

c: My brother is working at a children's bible study day camp for his community service. He just text messaged me.

me: That ain't right.

c: They are having him play Jesus in a skit they are performing.

me: STOP IT.

c: Swear. It's across the street.

me: Please go watch.

c: They are all wearing t-shirts that say: "Let the light of Jesus in." My brother is wearing a t-shirt from a bar.

me: This is too rich.

c: He just texted me saying: "I don't say shit; they just throw trash bags on me."

me: HAAAAAAAAA

c: I do not remember trash bag throwing as a part of the crucifixion of Jesus.

me: When did that happen to Jesus?!

c: I'm saying. This is a cruel joke.

me: No, it's an amazing turn of events, is what it is.

c: I just asked if I could come watch, or if I'd look like a pedophile as a lone adult showing up in a room of tots.

me: Either way, I'm confident it would be worth it.

c: I just asked what the trash bags are for and he said: "The bags are their sins. I'm done talking about this shit. I don't do religion well."

me: Your brother is money.

c: He said if I go, he will tell the children I'm the devil to attack. I'm going.

me: You realize your brother has the same initials as our man Jesus.

c: So what you're saying is ... this role has been waiting for him for 20 years.

me: Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying.

S.B., Esquire

From: sb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Strapless bras

I hate them so much. I just took mine off at work and stuffed it in my top desk drawer ...

Epic: A Story for All Generations

a: You're back at work?

me: Yup.

a: Sweet.

me: Haha, totally.

a: I'm so bored today.

me: NO motivation. And I still feel drugged.

a: ha ha.

me: Yesterday when they first put the meds in I felt soooo good. Like when people tell you the crazy thoughts they have on mushrooms? I looked at the nurse and said, "If I was this calm all the time, I could conquer the world."

a: Wanna hear something funny? Story involving drinking with the fam in FL?

me: Of course.

a: HA. i was just reading your calm story. That's hilarious.

me: Tell me your story.

a: Ok, so my little bro, my cousin (with the kid and the baby on the way with ex-wife/reconciled wife) and my other cousin were all around this weekend ... So Sunday rolls around and me, my parents and Nana and Papaw go to a bar for lunch and start drinking around 1:30pm.

me: HA! I love this story already.

a: We play pool, have some beers then decide to go to another bar called Stan's ... picture the most redneck outdoor bar you can think of and that's it. Live music, people on Harleys ...

me: In my head, I'm going to call it Bar Louie.

a: Sure, why not. While there, I purchased two koozies that are brown paper bags with insulation. Classic.

me: Ohmygod! I love it!

a: There was also a hand painted sign that said "Mullet Contests." So my cousins meet my family and Nana at Stan's.

me: Keeps getting better ...

a: We proceed to drink a lot until about 6 or 7, when we then all pile into one Volkswagen Toureg and head BACK to the bar we were at before. Stepdad bails at this point b/c we're getting ridic

me: Hahahhaahhaha

a: Cut to us all at the bar - my mom, Nana, bro and 2 cousins. Well, cousin orders a round of car bombs and leaves me out. After I hurrumph, he apologizes and says, "Sorry, girls don't normally want a car bomb." I hold my tongue and wait for them to arrive. They do and my mom and Nana are instructed to judge the race. I down mine about 5 seconds before any of the boys.

me: Of course you did. Nobody can beat you.

a: Everyone was impressed; I think my mom was a little sad and proud at the same time. Cut to another car bomb and several drinks later ...

me: Like when I graduated from UNC and bartending school the same week?

a: My brother is shitfaced. He is wearing my grandfather's Blueblockers and telling us all that no one can see him when he's got the Blueblockers on.

me: Wheezing at my desk ...

a: We're all dying of laughter for about two hours until he gets super emotional and my mom decides to take him home. So, she goes and Nana stays. Well, there was a table of young gentlemen next to us who I had seen earlier in the afternoon. They, too, came BACK to the bar to drink some more. I strike up a convo with them, and we end up hanging out with them. They ALL start calling Nana "Nana" and try to buy her drinks.

me: Wait, your brother got emotional and had to be taken home?!

a: Yes, he had to be taken home. One down. So we, including Nana, all start playing pool with these guys. I would walk away and one of the guys would come up to me and say, "I'm going to go check on Nana." She was loving the adoption of four boys.

me: BAhahahahhaahh;alskfhsdl;kga

a: Anyhoo, the bar's closing up around 11 or 12 so they invite us to one of the only bars still open on the island. REAL classy - it's called Reflections and is attached to a liquor store. I was literally sitting at the bar and looking into the liquor store. It was awesome. So my cousin now is shitfaced (and can't remember being there) and is trying to put his hat on everyone in the bar and pissing them off while Nana is trying to stop him. Cut to me sitting at the bar with this guy Jay (I think, or maybe it started with a J) who's hitting on me and at this point I think is looking pretty good ... Cousin keeps stumbling up to us and slurring, "That's my cousin." to Jay. After the 5th time, Jay's like, "Yeah, I know. We've talked about it." So these new guys keep walking up to tell me they're going to check on Nana. Nana finally goes home (thank god b/c I got ridic after that). Cut to almost 2 am and I'm making out with J at the bar.

me: Yessssss

a: THANK GOD that was not in front of Nana. I would've been mortified. To sum up the story, we take a cab home and my one cousin is the only one semi-coherent. I get out at my house and my other cousin in his drunkenness follows me and passes out on my bed. I awaken at 5 am to him roaming around the house, knocking all the marble chess pieces off the board on the coffee table, leaving the front door wide open, then trying to pull his pants down and sit in my brother's suitcase.

me: It is not possible for this story to keep getting better.

a: My brother woke up thankfully and caught and stopped him. I finally usher him to the bathroom and wait outside to make sure he goes back to bed ... and when we get back to my room, he hits a pillow and the floor, bites it and takes out the lamp on the dresser. Then he starts snoring so effing loud I can't sleep. Of course my parents wake up and are like, "What the hell's going on?" To wrap up the story, all four of us were deathly hungover the next day and my family got a huge kick out of it. I drank for 12 hours straight.

me: Do you realize how epic this story is?

a: You have no idea. I wish you could've seen it.

...

a: Oh, I just remembered something.

me: Give it.

a: I was trying to punch Jay's number into my phone and I remember him saying, "Let me get yours instead. You're punching in all 8's."

me: You did the impossible. You made the story even better.

Dreads, Hangovers and Heart Attacks

From: ac@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Three things

At a low point in my life, Saturday night I gave my number to a 24-year-old guy named Joel who has dreadlocks and I’m pretty sure deals drugs. He’s a friend of our young friends who are also 24. As you can guess, I was hammertime (there was an MJ dance-off at one point in the night). And I’m pretty sure I told him as he was typing in my number that I was way older than him. The kicker is that James told me when he was hanging with him earlier in the day, Joel said something to the effect of, “He used to get a lot of ass in Dallas because he was the only one with dreads.” And then he proceeded to light a bowl.

Cut to the next morning when I want to die of a hangover, and I see that I have a message from this dude from 3:07 am. “This is Joel, call me if you get this.” Ummm, no. After listening to the message, I proceeded to make James drive me to IHOP in my own car and then tried not to puke in my coffee cup. We’re mid-pancakes and an old man falls down and hits his head right beside us, and James says, “I think a man just had a heart attack.” 911 is called and the group hovering over the man ensues in the booth next to us. After about 10 minutes, everyone in the restaurant assumes he’s OK and turns back to consuming their Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruities as if nothing happened. Such a bizarre experience.

Trials of Love

me: I lied when I said the check was in the mail two days ago. I'm sorry for being a liar. Just call it like it is. I'M A LIAR!!!!!!!!!

a: 'sokay. I don't hate you.

me: But you don't love me anymore either. It's okay. I'll win you over again. YOU JUST WAIT AND SEE!

a: There are going to be trials. Hard trials. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it - you're gonna have to EARN my love back.

me: Trials like I have to run really fast stepping through big tires and then climb a wall using a rope without falling into the mudpit on the other side? (Please build this at the lake house.)

a: You seen Wipeout? Think that. Large bouncy balls and pits 'o mud.

me: Oh man.

a: Bring your helmet.

me: I'm gonna faceplant on one of those bouncy balls. You aren't even providing helmets?!

a: We may even joust American Gladiators style.

me: With our wizard staffs!

a: YESSSS. So you may want to bring your hockey mask, too. I'm violent.

me: duly noted

Feline Meatballs

From: me@work.com
To: e@work.com
Subject: Re: Here they go again

Damn you, Vietnamese meatballs. I do feel strongly about them, though. They're SO gross.


From: e@work.com
To: me@work.com
Subject: Re: Here they go again

They do have a funny texture. Kinda gritty. Must be the ground up cat bones.

Did I just say that?

They're Just Hot. It's That Simple.

(505): At a Peruvian bar with hot latino bartenders with baby chicken hair :)

(804): You shut your mouth right now unless you have a transporter to get me there.

History of Mankind, Best Friend in the

From: me@email.com
To: n@email.com
Subject: Re: blarghlarz again!

Debbie Downer signing off. Sorry for being a wet blanket.

Loves you.


From: n@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: Re: blarghlarz again!

It's ok, little wet blanket. I'll put you in the dryer anytime you need.

Parties at the Office

a: Ok, I'm usually all about theme parties and costumes, but just listen to this: A woman's last day in office is this week. So we're having a pot luck (so cliche) and are expected to wear "bon voyage/cruise" theme outfits. FML.

me: Total FML. That's absurd. Just wear your Frodo costume instead.

a: I should show up with a giant coconut full of liquor, wearing my bathing suit and stuffing my face from a buffet line.

me: And ask everyone to join in the macarena. Or Charlie Brown.

a: The Cupid Shuffle! Yessss.

me: Grass skirt.

a: Done. I can use this as an excuse to not shower.

Alcohol Depression

me: Are you still busy?

a: Nope. Or if by busy you mean doing genealogy research, then yes.

me: I think I'm having alcohol depression. I'm afraid I'm killing myself with drinking and feel like I need to stop.

a: Here's a plan: You do a little experiment. You drink ONLY beer while you're out.

me: I don't like drinking beer. It makes me full.

a: Exactly.

me: Oy vey. I just want to cry.

a: Don't cry.

me: I got to work this morning with my McD's and immediately knocked over a potted plant and filled my shoes with potting soil. So I've spent the day hungover sitting beside a heap of potting soil on the floor.

a: Hahahaha. Think of something happy ... like keyboard kitty.

me: Who is keyboard kitty?

a: Oh, hang on ... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0jfYacp-r4

me: Oh my god, this cat is slaying me.

a: meow, meow

me: Is it drugged?!?!?

a: No, just wearing a jersey. It makes him docile.

me: You just sent me over the edge. When he looks up with his eyes closed I feel like he is soulful like Stevie Wonder.

a: So are you saying that all blind people are soulful?

me: Speaking of soulful songs, I was shoe shopping at Dillard's and "Everybody Plays the Fool" came on and I got really emotional.

a: I can never get emotional to that song b/c my friend in 7th grade started singing "Everybody plays the SPOONS" -- she thought those were the lyrics.

me: I play the fool, Amber. I do.

a: Nana also thought "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" was "Sittin' on the Top of the Bed."

...

Hallo? Are you lost in keyboard kitty's eyes?

me: I love that cat. He is drugged like me.

a: You should email him for advice.

me: Who? Last thing I got was about Nana.

a: The cat.

Daddy's Little Girl

(804): Don't ever wish for a son again. The neighbor saw me in my yoga shorts and small tank top and is currently edging the entire yard for me.

(865): Flash him and ask him to activate sprinkler system!

Memorial Day

a: I can't wait to Memorialize the weekend with you.

me: Your mouth is full of zingers just waiting to tumble out.

a: My mouth is full of something.

buh dum bump

me: That's what she said.

buh dum bump

(Insert L giggling here)

SleepMate Side Effects

From: nw@email.com
To: me@email.com
Subject: Cheque Mate

I know I texted you yesterday, but the past two days I've woken up on the first alarm ring with no snoozing ... and I really think it's because I'm more well rested due to the SleepMate. Do you have one??

I also had a dream last night about tattoos but only the design part ... I had some pretty cool designs in my head. But instead of JL tattooing us, it was a small, bald Hispanic boy with an oversized jersey. I had some weird dreams ... in one Atticus was a penguin in Waikiki.

Animals Might Have Been Harmed in the Making of This Game

From: ac@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Hamster on a piano

Hamsters are funny.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRzTfgds0UI


From: lb@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Re: Hamster on a piano

Guys, I know you probably think they are creepy little rodents, but I
have a total soft spot in my heart for hamsters.

I had two: Teddy 1 and Teddy 2. We used to play hide and seek (Teddy
1/2 in the little ball) and I would give 'em a little nudge and then
go count in a corner somewhere so they could hide. No joke, it was
really fun and I miss those little guys.

Surprise! Rick Astley is not black.

From: mh@email.com
To: thegirls@email.com
Subject: Obama Astley

You've probably seen this, but even so it's worth a re-watch:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtO2jj5IyBk

C and I have become obsessed with Rick Astley, as we expected him to be a black man with that soulful voice, and instead he is a British ginger.

PS- C is in the other room singing "Her name is Rio"... we don't listen to any music made in the last 20 years evidently.

Merkins = NSFW

p: Any response from the cuchini (www.cuchini.com)?

me: One of my friends said "Man, the cuchini is making the rounds. This is the third email I've gotten about it this week." I was bummed.

p: Oh man! That's devastating.

me: Another friend was reminded of merkins.

p: Oh well, the mons pubis is still queen.

me: Do you know of merkins? DO NOT GOOGLE.

p: Merkins? Never heard of such a thing. OKAY.

me: Pube wigs.

p: STFU. STOP IT.

me: Origin: Back in the day when whores got crabs and whatnot they had to shave their mons pubis. So they bought wigs.

p: ICE TEA ON SCREEN.

me: Now, it's a pure fashion statement. Hahahahhaha. Hearts, rainbows, skull & crossbones.

p: fadjlfhlajfha

me: I think you just "tape" them on.

p: Oh man.

me: DEFINITELY look it up when you get home. HA-larious.

p: I need to crawl under my desk. Tears.

The Good Kind of Slut

n: Guys really dick themselves over ... they go for boring, annoying girls as their girlfriends, and then are "mysteriously" intrigued by girls who are actually fun and interesting and slutty. They set themselves up to cheat. How many guys do you know that do that? Cuz I know a lot.

me: A SPILLION.

n: Why not just have a really cool girlfriend? But they get themselves a wet blanket to go home to, and then want to make out with the fun girl when they are out.

me: So wait, am I the fun slutty girl in this equation?!

n: Yes! But slutty in a good way.

me: BAHAHHAHAHAHA. God, I love you.

n: I don't mean slutty as in actually slutty. Slutty as in flirtatious and fun.

me: Got it.

Tattoos and Poos

me: So ... how bad did it hurt?!

r: Not gonna lie, it didn't feel good. But it wasn't all that bad. Well worth it.

me: Me likey. And it's funny that you got your first b/c I'm preeeety sure I'm getting my first in SF over Memorial Day weekend.

r: Oh really?

me: But i want it on the side of my ribs. So I'm petrified. My hard-as-nails friend said "I cried, screamed, felt like there was a cheese grater on my skin and then had explosive diarrhea," regarding her rib tat ... which is hilarious and awful at the same time.

r: Haha. Yea, I've heard that the ribs hurt ALOT. That's what my friend told me last night.

me: What if I freak out and have a panic attack and poo the table and pass out and vomit in my sleep and choke?

r: Then i just hope it ends up on YouTube.

me: I'm so serious though! My stomach liquefies when I'm traumatized.

r: Dear god.

Crocs Can End a Friendship

n: Ooooh you are cruisin for a bruisin.

me: Hahahahahahaha.

n: Why must you taunt me?

me: No more invasive fictional accounts of YOUR life will be written!! J/k. You're half my material. I just referenced "my material."

n: Oh no, I'm not upset by your material ... just the shoes.

me: I know, I know. I was trying to threaten you into liking them.

n: Never!! Like I can't even tell you how much it upset me that you got them. I felt personally insulted.

me: But the problem here is I really do like them.

n: Oh my god. We just need to stop talking about it.

me: PLEASE DON'T BE SO UPSET!

n: It's as if you took satan's cloven hooves and put them on your feet and now you think it's normal. I HATE THEM.

me: I can't help it.

n: Well, just don't wear them or mention them around me. They are the sign of all that is evil. You may as well start going to church and popping out babies, because that's what's next.

me: Church? In sooth, N. You know you can trust me with some things.

n: I thought I could.

me: THIS MUST STOP.

n: Ok, let's just not talking about them.

me: k

n: That wasn't english.

me: I liked it. It was like my beatboxing boyfriend.

n: I got too worked up and then couldn't think straight.

Caffeine, Dog-Unicorns and Homeowning Handymen

n: I truly don't understand why you drink so much caffeine.

me: Because I love it.

n: I have never met anyone besides your parents, and maybe some members of the gay community, that up themselves that much.

me: It's not the caffeine specifically. I just love the products that have it in it.

n: So get decaf!

me: It's not as good!

n: You are crazy.

me: I got your crazy.

n: It's a fair trade-off ... slightly different taste for a lifetime of possibly not giving yourself caffeine sweats and panic attacks.

me: I've always been level headed like that.

Drink Your Wizard Staff

From: ac@mail.com
To: thegirls@mail.com
Subject: Wizard Staff

You guys may be way ahead of me on this one, but just this week I found out about a drinking game called “Wizard Staff." After learning the rules, I’m DYING to play. Okay, okay. I confess. I didn’t even have to hear the rules — I was sold immediately after hearing the title.

In a nutshell, you are encouraged to dress up in wizard capes and/or other wizardly gear. You start by drinking a can of beer. Once that is done, you duct tape the next full can of beer to the empty one you just finished. After that is done, you tape the next one on top and so on. So you’re building up your Wizard’s Staff of cans. At a pre-determined wizard level (i.e. how many cans you have in your staff), you have to take a shot to progress to the next Wizard level.

You’re a Dark Wizard for a while. Then after passing some level you become a White Wizard, a la Gandalf. This is the best part — you battle other Wizards with your staff (American Gladiator style) and the Wizard with the staff that doesn’t fall apart first, wins.

How AMAZING does this sound? Hilarity can ensue at many points:

• (A) Showing up to the game wearing wizard clothes.
  
• (B) Trying to position then consume your full beer that’s duct taped to an enormous stack of cans.
  
• (C) Drunkenly battling another “Wizard” with your staff.

Again, I CAN’T wait to play. And yes, maybe I should still be in college.

Who's in?

http://www.collegetips.com/college-parties/wisest-wizard-staff.php

From: me@mail.com
To: thegirls@mail.com
Subject: Re: Wizard Staff

That is HANDS down the best drinking game I have EVER heard of. I cannot wait for our reunion. I won't win b/c I'll be too busy peeing my pants to drink enough beer for a wise wizard staff. (Can we call it a wand instead?)

From: nw@mail.com
To: thegirls@mail.com
Subject: Re: Wizard Staff

No, no. A wand is for Harry Potter ... the staff is for a higher level wizard like Gandalf the Grey.

From ac@mail.com
To: thegirls@mail.com
Subject: Re: Wizard Staff

Thanks for stepping in to handle that one, N.