Monday, September 29, 2003
Clown Fish are Fuckers
So, I finally manage to fall asleep last night. The kids are over at their dad's, Spawnie is snoring away peacefully on the couch, I have the bed to myself...bliss, right?
I got maybe an hour and a half in when I am having this dream about clowns. Evil clowns. Evil laughing clowns. We all know I don't like clowns at all.
Anyway, I wake myself up...but I still hear the laughing. At regular 5 second intervals. 'HahahahahHAHAHAHAHAH.' I sit up. I say, 'What the fuck?'
I get out of bed cautiously, put on some clothes, and tiptoe into the living room. Spawnie is still snoring. I still hear the laughing.
Again, I say, 'What the fuck?'
Cocking my head, I turn and go down the hall, where the noise seems to be coming from. I step into the bathroom, and the laughing is even louder than before.
Obviously, an evil clown is hiding in the shower.
I look around, trying to figure out how best to kill an evil clown that's hiding in the shower at 4 AM and laughing its stupid ugly head off...waking up Spawnie seems to be a bad idea, because once he's awake, he can't get back to sleep again and he's got work in the morning.
It's up to me to save our lives.
I grab the plunger from under the sink and smack at the shower curtain...nothing.
The laughing continues.
Okay, the evil clown is NOT in the shower. I flip on the light and look around.
You'll all please keep in mind that I was barely even half awake at the time, right?
Disney/Pixar recently put out a kids' movie called 'Finding Nemo.' It's about fish, so it's got lots of fish in it. Clown fish, even. Well, to market this movie, McDonald's had little plastic fish toys in their Happy Meals. My kids ended up with a few. They are also bathtub toys. See, you can either press the top fin to make the fish make a noise, or put your two fingers over these little black dots on the bottom of the fish to complete the circuit and also make it make noise. Putting the fish in water will also complete the circuit, causing the fish to make a noise.
In this case, the fish was laughing.
A clown fish.
In the middle of the night.
For no apparent reason.
There was no water around and it wasn't laying on its top fin, so there is absolutely no reason for this fish to all of a sudden start chortling loudly in the middle of the night, thereby waking me up and causing me to think there is an evil clown hiding in the shower.
So I say, 'Aw, fuck you, dude,' and pick the fish up.
I push on its fin. It doesn't stop laughing. I close the circuit with my palm. It's still laughing. I glare at it. I bang it off the bathroom sink. It continues to laugh. I bang it off the sink a little harder. It's still laughing.
I begin to think this is some sort of communist plot to absolutely ruin any sleep I might ever get ever again. I tell the fish, sternly, to shut up.
Miracle of miracles, it does.
I smile in triumph and set it down on the sink counter.
It laughs again.
'Oh, you FUCK!' I exclaim. I pick it back up and bash it on the sink again. A part of the tail fin flies off and skitters off into a corner. It stops laughing.
'Take that, bitch,' I crow.
It laughs at me in reply.
Now I'm really mad, so I grab it and muffle it in a towel and run barefoot outside in the cold.
I hurl it into the dumpster, and it's still chuckling merrily to itself, perhaps pleased that it has so ruined my sleep.
As I turned back to the building, I could still hear that christing fish laughing. For all I know, it's still out there, buried in garbage, laughing.
Clown fish are fuckers.
Saturday, September 27, 2003
Adventures in Zombistan
I have this thing now where I've got to get up really early and stagger around the house pretending to be coherent and stuff. Oh yeah, it's a job. Okay, perhaps not a real job, but it's bringing in money and paying the bills, so we'll call it a job even if I don't leave the house.
It certainly is work.
A two year old, blond haired, blue eyed little boy. This is nice for several reasons:
One) I can stay home with my own kids. What with the move and all, getting them into day care might totally destroy what little love they have left for me, pushing them off the edge of mere brat-i-tude into major dysfunctional child mode and therefore completely ruining my already stressful life. That would be what I like to call A Very Bad Thing.
Two) I don't have to wear a dumb uniform. In fact, I rarely even get dressed. I stumble out of bed when the kid shows up, put on some pants and whatever t-shirt is lying there on the floor, and that's that.
Three) I'm getting paid in cash. The girl that owns the boy gives me 10 or 15 a day and then pays me the rest at the end of the week. Therefore, I'm getting money every day, even if it's only a little bit, and that somehow serves to make me feel like every day is my birthday. I stuff it all into a little clay pot on top of the fridge and periodically go over to peer into it and gloat.
Of course, there are the down sides to it:
One) The boy doesn't exactly like being left here with me at the asscrack of dawn every morning and usually spends some time wailing and trying to break my front door down. The first couple days taught me to pull the endtable over in front of the door as soon as his mom leaves, to block it and keep him from escaping. See, before I figured out to do that, he'd get the door unlocked and be halfway to Canada before I even had time to turn around. It'd be one thing if I lost one of my own kids, but one I didn't spend a bunch of hours laboring to bring into this world? His mom might be a bit miffed.
Two) The boy doesn't eat properly. Case in point: One morning, I made breakfast. A nice healthy breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese, and raspberries. The kid chowed down all the raspberries on his plate and then pushed all the eggs off onto the carpet. I frowned. Picked the eggs up, put 'em back on the plate (Hey! Five Second Rule! It's still good!), and said, 'Eat the eggs.' He stared at the eggs, then stared at me, and said, 'More berries.'
'Naw, you eat some of the eggs, then I'll get you some more berries. Look, they've got cheese in them. Mmm. Eat. Now.'
He pushed all the eggs off onto the floor again. I frowned.
What little kid doesn't like scrambled eggs and cheese?
Short of holding him down and forcibly inserting the eggs, there wasn't much I could do about it, so I just let him consume somewhere around a pound of raspberries. Sorry, Boy's Mom.
Today I made ramen with cut up hot dogs in it. (Yeah yeah. It seemed like the thing to do at the time.) Well, my kids ate it like it was going out of style, but the boy merely delicately removed the hot dog bits, ate those, and then pushed all the noodles out of the bowl onto the floor.
Noticing a trend yet?
I guess he doesn't like what I feed him. He sure as hell drinks all my juice, though. I must find some way to feed the boy properly so he doesn't starve while in my care. I think his mom would frown upon that, too.
On a side note, Spawnie is teaching me to drive the Big Black Truck o' Doom. I must say I am terrified of the truck, but am rallying well because it's probably a good idea that I get my license as soon as possible. So, while the truck is huge and driving it scares the hell out of me, I am forcing myself to learn. It's a Dodge, you know, with the extended cab and, I think, a 6 foot bed. In short, it's bloody GIANT. I have to crawl up to get into it. It has no mufflers, thus making it very loud and also adding to my fright of the thing.
On our first excursion, we went to St. Joseph Mercy's parking lot and I drove in circles at a stately 15 mph for about an hour. I managed to make lots of right turns without running over any curbs, and after several tries, managed to also park the thing effectively (as in, straight and between the lines. Fuck, I rawk.) so I'm doing well so far. Besides, the whole thing's made of steel so if I smash into anything, it's the thing that's likely to get hurt, and not me or the truck. Whee.
I will feel very manly and macho once I can drive the Big Black Truck o' Doom effectively, since it's a very manly and macho truck. Worship at your leisure.
Uhm, that's all for now, I think.
I shall be attending a birthday party for the kiddo I babysit today, with Spawnster and my own kiddies.
Friday, September 12, 2003
So, I haven't done a PM in a while on here. This one isn't hysterically funny, but it is a bit different. See, lots of times, women get PMed by guys asking 'innocent questions,' like 'Are you ticklish?'
I was once asked that, and said yes, and then it spiralled out of control into a weird sex thing which made me giggle lots. This is similar to that:
prince_abraham_van_helsing: do you eat flesh?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: or it is just a name?
zombie_hates_everything: Oh, yeah. I eat flesh. Mmm. Flesh.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i like your nick name
prince_abraham_van_helsing: how do you do?
zombie_hates_everything: That's nice.
zombie_hates_everything: I do fine, thanks.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: where r u from?
zombie_hates_everything: The US.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i am originally from MI
prince_abraham_van_helsing: but now i live in LA and Europe
prince_abraham_van_helsing: how about u?
zombie_hates_everything: I currently live in MI.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: hey theres this new zombie movie openining this week-end
prince_abraham_van_helsing: Cabin Fever
prince_abraham_van_helsing: if u like zombies go see it
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i am daniel pleased to meet you
zombie_hates_everything: Please don't buzz me.
zombie_hates_everything: That's incredibly annoying.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: so tell me
prince_abraham_van_helsing: have u ever bitten some1?
Here, another PM box pops up at the same time: prince_of_darkness_rules: have you ever bitten someone ?
zombie_hates_everything: Sure. I go for the jugular all the time.)
zombie_hates_everything: You and prince_of_darkness_rules the same guy, or in cahoots?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: same giy
zombie_hates_everything: Why are you PMing me under two names?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: by mistake
prince_abraham_van_helsing: sorry my bad
zombie_hates_everything: Uh huh.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: so honestly
prince_abraham_van_helsing: have u?
zombie_hates_everything: Why do you want to know?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i have an issue about it
prince_abraham_van_helsing: just like to discuss it if u dont mind?
zombie_hates_everything: What's the issue?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: got bitten by a woman
prince_abraham_van_helsing: serious bite
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i want to know
prince_abraham_van_helsing: how bad can a woman bite?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: what was ur worst?
zombie_hates_everything: Oh, I get it. This is one of those weird sex things, right?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: excuse me?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: no it is not
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i just asked a legitimate quetion
zombie_hates_everything: I tell you I bit some kid in the second grade for stealing my crayons and you're over there whacking it, right?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: very funny ha ha
prince_abraham_van_helsing: now seriously
zombie_hates_everything: I don't bite people.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: very well then , I see that I have bothered you
prince_abraham_van_helsing: I will leave you alone
zombie_hates_everything: Well, not too hard, anyway.
zombie_hates_everything: See ya
prince_abraham_van_helsing: would u bite someone if he asks for it willingly paying for one single bite mark 15,000$?
zombie_hates_everything: What, and get AIDS?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: no i meant if theyre clean
prince_abraham_van_helsing: you know what?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i just hope one thing for you
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i hope you'd get bitten by a zombie real soon ,. so that the world is better off without you
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i see you got a sense of humour
zombie_hates_everything: Do you even know where the zombie myth comes from?
zombie_hates_everything: That was a ridiculous attempt at insulting me.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: there are many theories
zombie_hates_everything: Please try harder next time.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: and many movies
prince_abraham_van_helsing: tell me
zombie_hates_everything: Tell you what?
prince_abraham_van_helsing: did u ever bite a bad bite?
zombie_hates_everything: Why are you stuck on this biting thing?
zombie_hates_everything: Got a fetish? Poor lad.
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i dont know what to tell you
prince_abraham_van_helsing: i have a serious issue
prince_abraham_van_helsing: and you are lol
zombie_hates_everything: I can tell.
zombie_hates_everything: Because it's funny.
Then he stopped talking, which was just as well, since I'd have ended up yelling at him a lot...
Monday, September 01, 2003
Hey, they didn't shut off my phone like they were supposed to. I'm not going to be offline for a couple days like I thought.
So, I am rather bored, which is nothing new, but I am bored in TERRIBLE ways that drive me to TERRIBLE things. You'd think I'd take the time to do productive things, like finish packing in preparation for the Big Move on Tuesday, or write something clever for posterity and put it on CIM, but nooooo, instead, I spend the time balancing precariously on various items of furniture and talking to myself.
This is mainly because I am irresponsible and like to put things off to the last minute or never do them at all, and because I like balancing precariously on things.
As you'd have it, I am an incredible klutz, known for tripping on nothing and running into stuff, not to mention falling down a lot and landing in ignominious heaps on the floor...but this doesn't stop me from balancing on one foot on the arm of the sofa, does it? Of course not.
Hence, I have a neat new bruise on my left knee. I think it adds character.
To be fair to myself, I did try to pack stuff today. I didn't get very far because every time I put something in a box, one of my children grabs it back out and runs off when I've turned around to pick something else up. This is immensely frustrating for obvious reasons. I end up bawling, 'Oh for fuck sake, knock it off, willya?' at them, and they blink at me with their large baby eyes and then I feel bad. Sort of.
So I thought, 'Fine, I won't pack. I'll clean.'
I commenced to cleaning the bathroom.
My son inquired, 'Hey, Mom?
'Hi,' he says.
'Hi,' I reply, and return to scrubbing at the bathtub.
'Hello. Asher. Hello.'
Back to scrubbing...
'MOM? MOM MOM MOM MOM?'
A minute passes, I think he's forgotten me. I sigh in relief. I am under the radar...
'YES, Asher. Hi. Hola. Bonjour. Guten Tag. Aloha. HELLO.'
'Then what is it?'
'What are you doing?'
This is where I rip all my hair out and drown myself in the toilet.
Add this to Meredith, who has decided that since she's learned to jump recently, she need not walk anywhere anymore, but rather, hop around like a demented superball on crack, and I'm in toddler hell.
*bounce bounce bounce bounce* 'LOOKA ME! I JUMP! FROG! LOOKA ME! LOOOOOOOOKA MEEEEEEEEEEE!' *bounce bounce bounce bounce*
Who thought it was a good idea to teach kids to talk?
Ryan's made noise about taking the short people somewhere today so I can actually get something done, but we'll just see about that. I have come to find that whenever he makes noise about taking them somewhere, it usually turns out to be only noise.
I could really use the time to myself to get this crap done, though.