compound word of the month
“horsepenisdon’tlook”
Seriously. These words just won’t ever work on their own after this.
Like chocolate and peanut butter.
Which, I hasten to add, do not go with any of the above mentioned words.
[Shudder.]
archive for May 2007
nasal suckage
The Nosefrida.
For removal of snot from kids’ noses.
One end of tube — kid’s nostril. Other end — your mouth.
For real.
I’m mean, SERIOUSLY?? Does that kid not look like having her nose hoovered is, like, the most totally awesomest thing EVER?
[Begin imaginary scene in Jason's over-caffeinated brain.]
[Mother driving minivan. Kid in back seat, kicking driver's seat.]
Kid: MooOOoooom… JUICE BOX!
Mom: You can’t have a juice box.
Kid: But MooooOOoom… [Kick kick kick.] MooOOoooOOoom… COOKIE!
Mom: [Deep breath.] You can’t have a cookie.
Kid: MooOOOOooooOOOOOoooom… [Kick kick kick.] MoooOOOooooOOOOOooooooooo– [Runs out of air. Takes deep breath.] –oOOOooooOOOOoooOOMMMM! [Kick kick kick.] NOSEFRIDA!
Mom: SO HELP ME GOD IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I WILL LEAVE YOU ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND YOU CAN BE RAISED BY HOBOS OR RACCOONS I DON’T CARE ANY MORE YOU WILL HAVE YOUR NOSE SUCKED WHEN YOU GET HOME AND NOT A MOMENT SOONER.
[Silence. Kick kick kick.]
Kid: Hobos! [Pause.] HOBOS! Hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos hobos…
[End imaginary scene in Jason's over-caffeinated brain.]
That’s it. I’m naming my first kid “Nosefrida”1.
…
1 Subject to Lovely Wife approval2.
2 Which means never3.
3 Damn. I never get to name anything.
jerk
You see, there is this guy.
And this guy decided that it was his mission in life to personally hound me — day and night, night and day, asleep, awake, on the can, outside my window in a little shack constructed out of milk cartons and egg shells, serenading me with insidious yet beautiful music — until, when I could take it no more, I sold my soul to the Devil.
The Devil called Facebook.
And now? I have about as much chance of getting out as Michael Corleone.
Damn you, you damned dirty stinking junk peddler.
Damn you.
Just you wait.
I’ll freaking “poke” you.
[Runs away sobbing into the night.]
proof
Time for some math.
A number of Earth orbits ago, the Earth’s planetary count of My Lovely Wife was incremented. This had some very important ramifications.
Where the Earth is represented by E, and Earth orbits are represented by Bday, and the Earth prior to a specific (but unrevealed) value of Bday is represented by Eboring, and the Earth on and after a specific (but unrevealed) value of Bday is represented by Eawesome, and where the Earth’s planetary count of My Lovely Wife is represented by CMLW, we can come up with some very interesting facts.
When CMLW = 0, then E = Eboring
When CMLW = 1, E = Eawesome
When E = Eboring, then the qualitative value of E is sucky, where sucky is a constant value that doesn’t do anyone any good.
But… when E = Eawesome, then the qualitative value of E is frickin’ sweet, where frickin’ sweet is a value that grows exponentially as Bday increases.
Therefore…
Today is My Lovely Wife’s birthday and she makes the world an exponentially frickin’ sweet place to be.
Birthday wishes (and slagging of my mathematical acumen) may commence in the comments…
… wait for it…
… now.
she dances and acts too
[I wrote the following about a month ago but cannot for the life of me determine why I didn't post it. Let's blame... I don't know... the Finns? Anyone got a better choice? No? Fine. The entire population of Finland it is.]
My Lovely Wife created a song to commemorate my return from the barber this weekend.
Jason has short hair!
[Small intense dance.]
He wears his underwear!
[Another small intense dance.]
I confess — I waited for more lyrics, but that was it.
Oddly enough, I kept singing it for days.
…
FYI: Both lyrical statements are true.
And catchy.
