Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
But My Gay Husband objects to basically all of that. He doesn't want to be a famous anthropologist because he doesn't want to be poor for the majority of his life. He refuses to raise children with me because I'm a vehement supporter of spanking children, a practice he finds "barbaric and trashy." This is usually when I draw penises all over his car windows with white shoe polish and then leave a note on my fancy stationery that reads "Who's barbaric and trashy now, biatch??" And then he replies: "Still you, Maggie. Still you."
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
This line pretty much sums up both me AND Biggie Shorty:
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
There are plenty of reasons to adore Bobbie Jean. First of all, her hair. Homegirl's hair is huge to begin with, but she still sets it in hot rollers before she goes out, giving her perhaps the most endearingly Southern hair in all of New York.
Anyway, Bobbie Jean's mom, Miss Shirlene, is one of the most blatantly racist people I know. She doesn't exactly say stuff with hatred, it's like she's just repeating in public what she's heard everyone else in Mississippi say behind closed doors. If possible, it's endearingly horrifying. For example, she hosted a yard sale at her house and warned Bobbie Jean that, if met will hagglers, "don't let them Jew you down." What does that mean? Is Jew a verb now?? Once, as her family enjoyed a Sunday lunch, Miss Shirlene announced to the table, "Well, in just walked a bunch of ni**ers." She didn't say it with disgust, more just making a benign observation.
After regaling me with stories of her mother, Bobbie Jean and I did what we're best at: sit on an air mattress in front of the TV and order in Chinese. Before this, though, we hit up the local Blockbuster and grabbed our favorite movies. Everything was going great until the guy rang us up, then announced to the entire store: "Okay ladies, Fried Green Tomatoes and Waiting to Exhale are due back next week." The subtext of this announcement was "Would you like a tub of ice cream to go with the estrogen fest you just rented? Because one of y'all clearly just got broke up with."
I could go on for dayz with Bobbie Jean stories (Bobbie Jean accosts Jewel at Restaurant, Bobbie Jean Snatches Weave Off Lady in Central Park, etc), but I have some nannying to get back to.
But the best part is that this movie is fucked up on not just one, but so many different levels. Repeat showing later tonight on Lifetime. Check it out.
*As a side note, my favorite Matt McCoy movie is definitely Rent A Kid. Check it out.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
My friend La Henna is Nutz. She's from the North (bless her heart) and she's pretty much the strangest/most fabulous person I've ever met. She is homeless as well as autodidactic (the latter means she can teach herself anything like a character on Heroes). Well, she used to be homeless and then she worked at McDonalds, got a chin job, and got some old man to pay for her to go to college. Fortunately, she ended up down the hall from my dorm room.
So she just sent me a 2am email and I would like to share an excerpt with you. It's crazily written, but rewarding. If you can follow this shiz, then you should definitely stick around. It only gets better from here:
i went to the state fair today and watched people tapdance with kathryn.
the state fair in mississippi was very different from the fairs in the north
because it has this one kind of exhibit that we dont, which is the oddity
exhibits. we went into one that had loudspeaks announcing that a woman's body
had been hideously transformed into that of a snake. i really liked the sign and
the speakers especially. then these 2 ladies came out and were likE OMG I SAW
THE HEAD BUT I DONT UNDERSTAND HOW THIS HAPPENED TO HER. and i was like whut did it look like tell me i do not have a dollar!!!~!! and she was like I DONT KNOW and i was like did it talk? and she was like YEAH BUT I LOOKED UNDER THE TABLE AND I COULD SEE HER BODY REALLY IS A SNAKE. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? and i was like holy fuck kathryn find me a dollar and then the crazy lady gave me a dollar. so i went in and there was a snake wrapped around and in the middle a womans head, and i said hello are you a snake? and she did not answer. and i said oh. well...how are you? and she was like good. and then everyone was like HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE so anyway the story ends with me running out screaming ITS MIRRORS ITS MIRRORS.
Friday, October 3, 2008
My Gay Husband's favorite thing to do is hit it and quit it, to divide (the butt cheeks) and conquer. However, he has recently been struck by what the Jonas Brothers call "the luv bug." This penis pursuit has got him head over heels, acting a damn fool. All of his typical tactics have failed him and, confidence shattered, he has been left a mere shell of his smug self. On this particular evening, he left campus with the honest intentions of returning home. Long story short, he FOLLOWS this guy he likes in his car. Follows ... as in STALKS.
I should add that while My Gay Husband was telling me this story, he was soaking luxuriously in a freshly drawn bath, lights dimmed, tub alit by scented candles ... because that's just how MGH rolls on a Friday night.
So this is why I love My Gay Husband, as well my friends Dora, Chocolate, and Bobbie Jean. It's not simply because they are as crazy and pathetic as I am. Everyone is crazy and pathetic. Everybody has weird shit going on their lives. I love these people because they are willing to admit it, to laugh about it, to blog about it, and to embrace it as ironicly divine&pitiful human nature.
Such is life, y'all.
This is just awful as My Gay Husband functions primarily to reel in the Krazy. Without him, my Krazy starts peaking out all over the place. The last time my Krazy got the best of me I ended up dating the Moroccan guy who plays Aladdin at Disney World.
But the upside of all this is that we will have so much to talk about when he gets a new phone. Usually our phone calls revolve around things what we've most recently eaten, bought, or slept with. But since we are both so obsessive, we end up talking about the same biscuit, blouse, and boy over and over again (don't act like you don't love biscuits and blouses too!).
So if you see My Gay Husband, let him borrow your phone for a few hours, will ya? I can't come home with anymore boyfriends or else Coco is going to have to get me another closet.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Waking up should be a 3-hour process though. That hazy space between asleep and awake is where I do my best work. I sleepily bat around ideas that of course seem high-larious at the time. Awake, they seem more like something my best friend Dora would come up on her lunch hour at Crabtree & Evelyn. This morning I kept laughing to myself about how much everyone was going to love reading about my new snooze button, which a piece of construction paper would relabel the "shut the fuck up" button. Fortunately, my alarm gave me a "Wake Up Call" before I posted that shit.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Just 6 months after Francois Philippe was born, along came a set of twins, Justin and Dustin (it doesn't make sense to me either). Justin is the good twin and I guess you know what that makes Dustin. Justin, or as I call him, J-Baby, is a gifted pianist and terribly funny. I say terribly because he specializes in puns and knock-knock jokes. His teachers might disagree, but I am convinced he is some sort of genius. He really gets my lectures. Sometimes I talk about weird stuff I learned in Uncle Ted's philosophy classes and Justin jumps right in with his own theories. It's great. Dusty, on the other hand, is slightly more difficult. He refuses to practice the piano, terrorizes his siblings, punches holes in the walls, and worst of all ... sasses me!! I mostly ignore Dusty and try to convince Justin he thinks I'm as cool as Francois Philippe does.
Dash, six, is the sweetheart and athlete of the family. His favorite place in the world is the dentist's office. He keeps trying to have his birthday party there. His favorite hobbies include EATING, smiling, laughing, playing baseball, signing autographs, and grinning. He's so charming he even melts my old bitter heart and I can never bring myself to put him in time out so he gets away with pretty much anything. Which is fine because he lets me call him Sugah Britches. He also loves food, but not food in general, just the following: meat (any kind), strawberries, blue berries, french fries, and taquitos.
So this is your formal introduction to my glorious chirren. Consider yourself warned.