Monday, October 31, 2011

Happy Halloween!

So, Allie wanted to dress up this year. She insisted on being a mummy, but instead of wasting using toilet paper, she wanted me to use sparkly netting:

I told her people might not “get” her costume, but she didn’t care. I told her that people weren’t going to want to give her candy, and she got MAD.

I told her to behave herself, and she promptly tried to eat my witch (note: not this witch. Allie could totally eat her for me.)

Sigh. Guess I’ll be having some awkward conversations with the neighbors while trick or treating tonight. Gators.


Friday, October 28, 2011

Houses (Part II)

So, I’d like to expand on Seaside Town Houses. Particularly #2. Crazy Old People’s Homes.

Lots and lots of dolphin statues (and tiny cherubic children). But we stumbled upon one house that I’m pretty sure is occupied by a witch.

Exhibit A:

You think that’s a bunch of children praying to the Virgin Mary, eh? That’s not Mary. That’s the witch with a shawl on. She uses children to do her evil bidding. It lets the other witches know she is the Most Powerful Witch ever.

Exhibit B:

Aww, cute little boyfriend-and-girlfriend pig statues, right? WRONG. Clearly, a man once wronged her, so the witch turned him and his harlot into pigs! And then into statues! If you stared into their eyes, you could see their souls crying.

Exhibit C: 

 Tra la la what’s that? OH IT’S A GIANT UNICORN STATUE. Well…okay, unicorns are pretty kickass. I named this one Starlight. I bet it belonged to Good Witch. Evil witch murdered her and stole Starlight. She uses the horn’s magic to stay young forever. Or fly.

Other Evidence: Um, we didn’t get pictures of the whole backyard because I was getting a little spooked and I was scared the witch would come after Boyfriend, but there was lots more statues. Including a pregnant or obese squirrel statue on a birdbath. Either the witch was angry at a pregnant woman so she turned her into a squirrel statue, OR she hated that squirrel that so she made an example out of it. Let’s just say all the other squirrels were keeping their distance.

AND – I totally got a few weird hive-type things on my arm, hand, and face after giggling with Boyfriend outside of the witch’s house. My fault, I know. I’m not saying she definitely hexed me, buuuuuuut that’s probably what happened. So yeah.

Conclusion: DEFINITELY a witch. We don’t even need to tie her up and throw her in a river to see if she’ll float so we can light her on fire. Witch.

Excuse me, I’ll be off buying magical protection crystals to guard myself and my loved ones. Let’s hope the witch doesn’t read blogs.

...scaredy GARFIELD cat

Thursday, October 27, 2011


So, I have an older sister. Whom I love (technically) but she kinda sorta drives me absolutely crazy.  She loooves shopping and talking about shopping, two things of which I can’t stand. Her weekends go something like this.
Step 1: Buy new clothes
Step 2: Talk about new clothes
Step 3: Try on new clothes
Step 4: Talk about new clothes whilst wearing them
Step 5 (occurring about 50% of the time): Return clothes and start at Step 1 again. 

It gets even worse when she has a specific event to dress for like, like a wedding (purchased three dresses, returned two and repurchased one).

We both have a Halloween costume party this weekend. As you can imagine, this has caused her to go on quiiite the spree. She’s kind of stylish, but she just sucks at costumes. There’s no other way to say it.

First: the fairy. She bought a fairy costume weeks ago at a random generic Halloween store.  If only it was that simple. She didn’t try on the full costume til she got home and “the wings were uncomfortable.” Strike 1.  

Curse these itchy wings!

Next: the Cowgirl. This involved purchasing nonreturnable “cowgirl supplies” like a toy gun, and trying to wear cowgirlish things from her current wardrobe. (This non-costume tactic is a common failure of hers. Two years ago she was a “mod girl” and wore a black-and-white professional work dress. #failingatcostumes.)

I guess she realized how stupid she looked, so that was scrapped. Strike 2.

THEN: the harassment. She began texting me.
Sister: What are you going to be??
Me: I don’t know. Either a goddess [last year’s costume] or a black cat. I was gonna decide at the last minute [Depending on how lazy I was feeling. Take note: I LOVE being a black cat. I have cat ears, so I just wear a black dress and draw whiskers on my face with eyeliner. The ultimate lazy girl’s costume. Classic]
Sister: Well, decide. I’m going to be whatever one you aren’t.
Me: Seriously? Out of all the costumes in the world, you need to be one of those two??
Sister: WHICH ONE?!? [She’s very yelly. Even over text.]
Me: uh uh uh cat I guess [Gun to my head, I’ll always choose cat.]
Sister: Can you bring home the goddess costume for me to try on this weekend??
Me: Fine.

So, I did. Because I’m nice. And not at all resentful that the one good costume I wore to the same party last year was about to get reused by my own sister, and I’d have to suffer through a night of “Didn’t you wear that last year??” and silent comparisons as to who looked better in it.

Luckily, she didn’t like it. I didn’t ask why. Strike 3.

She tried to get some other kind of cat-like outfit after that, but it didn’t pan out. Maybe because she made me commit to being a cat, and I was sending her “I will fuck you up if you try to wear the same outfit as I do” brainwaves. I don’t know, maybe some other reason. We’ll never know, now will we?

I don't even like drawing this one.

After about 8 million strikes later, this texting conversation ensues:

Sister: I think I’m going to get mouse ears and a tail and then u can chase 
me around all night :) (<---Seriously, the text included a smiley face. Like that made it less disturbing.)
Me: Did you mean to send that to a boy you’re flirting with?
Sister: What? No.
Me: Are you drunk?
Sister: NO.
Me: Sometimes I hate you.
Mouse costume is far too similar to cat costume for my liking. And she's trying to outdo me with the tail. I may have to destroy her.

I’m not really the type who would chase my sister around. I’m more the type that tries to avoid her like the plague when she’s drunk because she tries to hug me and have heart to hearts and ask my friends questions about me and its horrible and she needs to learn BOUNDARIES, DAMNIT!

I guess she realized that, because the next time she talked to me, she told me she should have gotten a dog costume because then she could chase ME around all night (much more plausible/terrifying). I just texted her asking what she’d be and her current response is “Minnie mouse or just a mouse.” Sounds about right.

The party’s on Saturday, and I’m willing to bet that she goes through at least five more outfit changes between and then. And I have this sneaking suspicion that she’ll show up in a cat costume, too.

Damn her.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Happy Hump Day!

Allie is looking as beautiful and feminine as ever:

So, I’m still trying to figure out my blogging schedule. I’m way, way too lazy busy to write/draw decent posts five days a week. I have couches to sit on things to do, jigsaw puzzle puzzles to work on places to be, and Boyfriend to snuggle with B- actually wait, that one is good as it is. Yeah. But I legitimately have important things to do this week, such as:

1. Put together a lamp so I have enough light in my living room to work on said jigsaw puzzle VERY IMPORTANT THING at night during the winter.

2. Find a way to make room for some real drinking glasses in my kitchen cabinets. Apparently my uppity Boyfriend didn’t think that solo cups and plastic tumblers that may or may not be chock full o’ BPA were good enough to sip his whiskey out of, so he got me some real glasses.  They deserve real shelf space, which will involve getting a step ladder and rearranging things. Le SIGH.

3. Come to terms with the fact that I’m probably the only 20something in the world who has never owned an iPod before and learn how to use my new birthday present.

4. Laundry. Bah! Seeing as how the electricity in our apartment is on the fritz (the circuit panel needs to be replaced) and the circuit breaker buzzes every time we turn the washer on, it sure makes doing laundry a LOT more exciting. The electrician told roomie and I not to worry too much, just don’t leave the apartment or fall asleep while doing laundry. Oh and periodically touch the circuit breaker box while the washer/dryer are on to make sure its not hot and there’s not, you know, A RAGING FIRE IN OUR WALLS. 

5. Wine drinking. See #4, living with a constant threat of raging wall fire. 

There’s about a hundred more things I need to do, but since those top the list as the most “interesting,” I’ll just shut up here. My point is that I’m not sure if I’m going to be posting MWF or some combo M/T/Th/F and a pic on Wed, or something else entirely.  Bear (growl) with me. Snicker.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Houses (Part 1)

So, Boyfriend and I went away to his vacation house in seaside town this weekend for my birthday. It was perfect walking weather, so Boyfriend and I did a bit of strolling about town, trying to make strangers as uncomfortable as possible because apparently we’re not nearly as cute as in real life as I draw us here. The town itself can be a bit…odd. We primarily found three types of homes: 

1. Big beautiful vacation homes. Mostly the ones closest to the sea. I think they tend to belong to older couples. Lots of old fancy cadillacs and flag poles (yay patriotism!).

2. Crazy Old People’s Homes. Let’s just say there are LOTS of dolphin statues. More on these types of homes later this week

3. Crappy bungalows filled with scummy assholes. They tended to be a few blocks in and looked like glorified sheds.  Unfortunately, some of these scummy assholes happen to live right next to Boyfriend.
When Boyfriend first bought the home, his not-so-classy neighbors kept two female goldendoodles in a small pen in their backyard that they were planning on breeding because goldendoodle puppies are adorable little balls of moneymaking. And because even though lesbian sex is super hot it can’t result in pregnancy (um, which may make it hotter), they added a studly male golden retriever (can anyone say love triangle??). So now there are three full grown dogs in a small, uncovered pen in their backyard. My reactions:

A.     Those poor pups bark all day and night, they’re dirty and without shelter, and never seem to get walked or paid attention to. It’s terribly sad. Conclusion: these neighbors are assholes. 

B.     Logic quiz! If poodle + golden retriever = goldendoodle, then goldendoodle + golden retriever = what, exactly? Puppies with birth defects?  New conclusion: these neighbors are IDIOT assholes.

C.     Does anyone want to help me steal some dogs? Frealsies. I’ve watched Ocean’s 11 a bunch of times, so I’m pretty much a master thief already.  It’d be like Gia’s Three: One person to be the lookout, one person to unlatch the pen, and one person to roll around in bacon so the dogs will immediately smell and love them (I’d like to volunteer myself for that one).

[I feel like this drawing is so bad I need to explain it: I was trying to use the spraypaint to show the goldendoodle’s longer hair. I’ve succeeded in making her look like Pigpen. But she’s dirty too, so it kinda works. Um, also, just to clear up any misconceptions -- I’m wearing that glasses/nose/moustache disguise. I don’t actually have a lady moustache. I’m incognito.]

Mmmmm. Bacon. 

Monday, October 24, 2011

Self Esteem

So, I was feeling a bit wonky the past few days. Long story short, I had a conversation with Boyfriend that wasn't intended to be critical towards me, but it dredged up all these icky feelings of self-loathing. It’s like, if my inner self was a dog, I’d be dangerously close to rubbing my nose in my own poo.

So anyway, Boyfriend senses what’s up, but doesn’t really get why. I may have clued him in, though, because my way of coping is to follow him around room to room asking if he still likes me.
He wants me to share, but I don’t want to. So I figured out a good compromise: share while he’s sleeping. Fair, right? Friday night in bed went something like this:

Me: You still like me, right?
Boyfriend: Mmmmhmmm
Me: Ok, just checking
Boyfriend: mmm argoebregsspretzel mmmmm
Me: * whispering * Boyfriend? You awake?
Boyfriend: zzzzzglurkbreadsnortzzzzz
Me: * whispering * Ok. So <cue ten minute diatribe of heavy sharing> You know?
Boyfriend: zzzzzzsnoooore zzzzzzzzz
Me: Perfect.

When Boyfriend found out the next day, he was Not Happy. He said that didn’t count as sharing but he’s wrong. So, he spontaneously started drafting a Dear Abby letter aloud.

Dear Abby,
My girlfriend said she shared her feelings with me, but I was asleep. That doesn’t count, right?

I countered with

Dear Abby,
My boyfriend said he wanted me to share my feelings with him, but fell asleep as I was telling him my innermost thoughts and feelings! That’s totally his fault, right?

It was on.

Dear Abby,
I have the craaaaaziest girlfriend in the world.

Dear Abby,
I think I’m perfectly reasonable.
Crazy in <state>

Dear Abby,
I’m frightened of my crazy girlfriend. I’d leave her but I’m scared something bad will happen to me. What should I do?

Dear Abby,
Tell me more about this “temporary insanity” defense I’ve heard about.

Dear Abby
I want to go to local women’s shelter, but they said I couldn’t because I’m not a woman. That doesn’t seem fair. It’s the same abuse!

Dear Abby
What’s the best way to get rid of a body?

I win.

Well, not really, in the sense that I couldn't murder Boyfriend this weekend because we were celebrating my birthday. But then he took me out to a fancypants dinner and got me super pretty opal earrings AND an iPod nano!!!

So actually, I DO win!!

Friday, October 21, 2011

So…I May Be Psychic.

I want to talk about a dream I had Tuesday night. I know, I know, listening to someone talk about their dream is only slightly less painful than listening to them talk about the traffic, the weather, or what the [generic sports team] is doing wrong this season. Bear with me, I’ll keep it short.

Tuesday’s sleep was actually filled with a bunch of crazy/psychedelic dreams, including a very disturbing one where I was dying (eath-day is a touchy subject for me. Not going there today). BUT, at one point I had a very clear dream: I was in a house (presumably mine) with my parents and sister, and a camel had wandered into the front yard. We were all like, “Whoa holy shit, it’s a camel!” And kept trying to use our phones to take a good photo of it. One of us got a great one of the camel with its eyes half opened and a dopey smile on its face, like it just smoked a giant bowl of weed. End dream.

See, that description wasn’t too painful, right? Anyway, I turn on the news Wednesday morning and HOLY SHIT A BUNCH OF EXOTIC ANIMALS ARE LOOSE IN OHIO.

Whoa. Clearly my dream was a premonition.

Ok I know technically a camel wasn’t one of the exotic animals released, but c’mon…lions, tigers, bears (oh my!), monkeys, leopards, wolves, etc etc.  A camel doesn’t NOT fit right into that mishmash of the animal kingdom, you know? Sure it’s slightly less…bitier, but just as out of place in Ohio.

[Side note: Seriously, how bonkers was that guy?? Can you imagine if your school was closed because there was a bunch of man-eating lions and tigers were roaming around? Shit just got real. Life, survivor style.

Also, one article reported that a “monkey with herpes” missing.  First thought: Monkeys can get herpes? News to me. I’ve only heard of kitty herpes (and feline aids…mrawr). Second thought: Is anyone else suddenly worried about unprotected monkey rape? As in, rape by monkey, not vice versa.  Though I am definitely opposed to raping monkeys.]

Anyhooooo. My point is that my loose camel dream was clearly a premonition, and I’m clearly psychic. It looked something like this:

UPDATE: As I was writing this, my roommate randomly turned off her blowdryer, poked her head out of her bathroom where she’s primping for her date, and went “Hey, did you hear about the zookeeper who killed himself and like 50 wild animals were let loose in Ohio??” Seriously, she said it out of nowhere! The last things we were talking about were what party she was going to Friday and what time the electrician was coming tomorrow. Creepy, right? I’m DEFINITELY psychic.

Thursday, October 20, 2011


I got this email from Boyfriend:

He tried to convince me he went up in the Rapture. I'm calling shenanigans. I see some fundamental flaws with this photo:

1. Why are his shoes the only clothing left behind? His pants are holy enough to go with him, but his shoes aren't? Unless he was completely naked except for running shoes, which is a possibility. Hmm.

2. Seriously, there is no WAY he's making it to heaven before me. See rape jokes

3. Ok, maybe he'd leave his kids. And maybe he'd leave me. But he would definitely NOT leave his dog. 

3a. She looks rather unimpressed by his supposed naked floating away in the sky.

Results: fake

He won't be able to get rid of me that easily. 

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I'd Like You to Meet Allie

My profile picture is a drawing of Allie, my Sexy Alligator. She really exists, see:

Yes, that is nail polish on her toes (claws)? And lipstick. She has glitter on her too, but that’s harder to see.

So, how did I happen to come to own such a majestic creature, you ask? Well, she started out as an inside joke between me and Boyfriend. I met Boyfriend through our work, and it was an arduous, seven-month courtship before I finally convinced him to date me.  In the meantime, we gradually escalated our interactions from work email to inappropriate work email to gchatting.

Around the same time, we had a super annoying auditor in our office.  This conversation took place one day, before Boyfriend was boyfriend, and was just inappropriate coworker.

me: Gah!
  Sometimes I wish you were a real bear who'd maul people
  I'd sic you on auditor
Boyfriend: I'll kill her, but you have to dump her. You know all the spots in around here
me: If we lived in Florida we could feed her to gators, like on nip tuck
Boyfriend: Let's get one!
I have a creek
 me: Reallllly?
Boyfriend: yes a small one
So, I got Allie. I bought her from a store in the mall (I know, I know. Those places are just gator mills. I should have went to a breeder, but I was pressed for time). I wanted to name her Sasha Fierce or Fluffy, and Boyfriend wanted to name her Wendell. We settled on Allie.

He and I switched off caring for her (though she mainly stays at my place now, where he can visit). She acts quite differently around us, though. (She has a little crush on him. Dealing with our relationship has been hard for her, but she's coping.) Around him, she pretends to like golf:

Insert your own balls-in-mouth joke here

And spends time in his creek:

But at least she makes friends:

Boyfriend didn’t understand that she is a classy gator, though. At first he was a little confused about how to get her home:

She was NOT pleased.

But he learned.
I think Allie is much more comfortable with me. She’s really quite the girly girl, who likes clubbing:

Allie tried to sneak into my bag so I'd bring her out (and it matched her nail polish). Unfortunately most places have a very strict anti gator policy. Stupid closed minded bastards. Integration is the new frontier!!

And reading cosmo:

We have the same awesome taste in music:
But even Allie hates that cover art.

Shes a young gator, though, and still a bit immature:

She's just curious, is all.

And maybe not completely trained:

Ducky is not food!

But gosh, she’s cute. And when it comes to important things, she takes after me. 

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Dramatic Reenactments: Roof

This needs some context. It starts with some texting between me and Boyfriend on a Saturday, while I was strolling through CVS for some necessities (dish soap, toilet paper, Disney pumpkin carving kit don’t judge me).

Me: Arrrrgggghhh
Boyfriend: What now?
Me: I woke up at 3am cuz first roomie butt dialed me and then she took 5+ minutes to try to unlock the door. I figured it was her or a murder-rapist…
Boyfriend: Shoot no raping? [Sidenote: boyfriend is twisted.]
Me: …So I got up and let her in. Then her alarm started going off at 8 am in the kitchen so I had to turn it off.
She just asked me if I could give her a ride to her car.
Boyfriend: Would it be weird if you had an orgasm while you were being raped? I think you’d have to marry him :) [Clearly, no one explained the correct use of emoticons to boyfriend. He believes that tacking it on to something horrible makes it not horrible. Sort of like saying “No offense, but...” while saying something incredibly offensive. “No offense, but you’re dressed like a transgendered Thai sex worker.” Wow, I’m offended.]
Me: Who would marry someone who had an orgasm while being raped? I’m damaged goods
Boyfriend: Well the rapist isn’t really a hot commodity so it’s a good match.
Btw that isn’t what makes you damaged goods
Me: Don’t try to rape me.
Ahem, I think the appropriate response was “you’re not damaged”
Boyfriend: You wish
Me: Heeeeey
No more talk of raping or marrying. I was scared enough last night
Boyfriend: Oh sorry. You’re the picture of mental health
Me: You and me both sexypants
Also. I watched 2 more episodes of archer on your Netflix account last night and am 100% addicted to Netflix now. [Archer is hillaaaaarious. I highly recommend. And yes, I know I should get Netflix but right now roomie and I have cable, so I’m not shelling out more money for tv.]
Boyfriend: See. It’s like crack for youngsters [Remember: he's old.]
Me: Damnit!
Boyfriend: First month’s free
Me: I knooow [Boyfriend offered to let me use his account, but that feels kind of dishonest. Plus I mooch off him enough. Read: ALL the time.]
Boyfriend: I’m on a roof.
Me: What? Are you smoking weed up there?
Be careful dear its windy and you’re skinny
I hope you had a big breakfast :/
[The multiple texts are where I start spinning.  What if he falls? My parents had a cousin who died that way. What if he dies? I like him a lot and do not want that to happen. Also, its super windy out. Why today? What is he thinking?!?? He’s tall and skinny!! And why on earth is he TEXTING?!? He needs to focus on staying balanced!]
Boyfriend: I’m taking a dump. Roof Toilet installed! [This is a scrubs reference. I loooove scrubs, and made Boyfriend watch a few episodes the night before. He didn’t seem to enjoy it that much, but I consider this reference to be his blessing to force all nine seasons on him].

Five- ten minutes later

Me: You still on roof? [Note: I wanted to call him right then, but I was worried about him trying to answer his cell phone on the roof. I kept imagine him cleaning out the gutters and trying to fumble for his cell phone when it rang and falling off the roof and dying and how I’d be responsible because I’m the one who called him and I haven’t met him kids but I guess I would at the funeral and how awkward would THAT be because they know I exist but they have no idea I’m only about ten years older than they are and how I’d have to say sorry I killed your dad and that would all be terribly, terribly sad.]
Boyfriend: On ground. Ooooof.

WHEW. I immediately called him and asked him what business he had going up on a roof on such a windy day. He tried to argue the wind was going around/through him, but that’s total bs because its not like he’s porous. I argued that he’s tall and skinny and stick-like  and that’s WAY more dangerous than being shorter and pumpkin-y, which is much more stable against wind. I drew this to illustrate my point. See? It’s science

[Also, I think he has a ghost in his attic.]