Archive for May, 2011

Stop freaking out… and please don’t poop in here.

I have a new pet. It’s our old family cat Maimer whose habit of terrorizing my parents’ other cat and leaving angry vengeful turds everywhere almost got her euthanized but somehow landed her in the lap of luxury at my mini mansion instead. It is because I am weak.

And I am running my dishwasher tonight for the first time since her arrival a few days ago. So as I slipped under the covers these are the words I just found myself saying to the cat staring wild-eyed at the bedroom door and gripping the foot of my bed like one would the steering wheel of a car going over a cliff: “Mei-mei, stop freaking out… and please don’t poop in here.”

Cats are dumb. And they are pitiless pooping machines. If you cross them, they will get you back with their poop. End of story.

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holiday weekend forecast

I get it, Mother Nature. You think you’re pretty funny. We thought we might get to wander blearily outside for the first time this year and blink our winter-worn, workaday eyes in the brilliant sunshine of three balmy springtime days free from artificial light and stale recycled air. But you had other plans. Ok. That’s cool.

Hey, Mother Nature. You know this glass bottle I’m drinking out of?¬†You probably thought I was going to recycle it. But now I think I’m going to just shove it up your landfill instead. See, when you try to be a funny guy, everybody loses. NICE GOING, MOTHER NATURE.

 

and also i shouldn’t talk to coworkers about Hot Lunch

There’s a reason I defriended him on Facebook. I don’t want to know about the new girlfriend who has the same name as me. (Whoops one coworker let that slip a few months ago.) I also don’t want to see the photos of them together… on an exotic vacation. (Whoops I got to hear about that tonight.)

So here is what happens when you combine large quantities of wine, self-pity, jilted rage and Adobe Illustrator.

Hot Lunch, this is for you. I hate you so much. And also I calculate you owe me about $1,074.88 for the movies, the dinners out and that plane ticket, you cheap-ass bastard. Enjoy.