Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Reading Is Fundamental

Use your words properly, people! 

Today's linguistic grouse is brought to you, thanks to a SPATE of it being used incorrectly on social media this week:

Looser vs Loser.

Looser = more loose = less tight. Kinda like your mom's vagina (or your dad's condom).

Loser = one who has lost something. Kinda like your dad's condom, wedding ring or watch, IN, your mom's vagina.

So by extension: when you use "looser" when you mean "loser," you appear more like the latter. (And yes, it matters.)

So do you have something else to axe me?

Natural Consequence

This is the natural and only consequence of tucking one's knitting needles into one's couch cushions, POINTS UP, when there are rambunctious children in the house. 

Thank the universal powers that be, that it went clear through and did not hit any nerves or major arteries in the process.

Apropos of Something

Follow up to this post.

Fuck good intentions.
Alternately: Fuck me for giving a shit.

Workplace What-the-Fuckery: Heard in the Cubefarm Today

In response to my suggesting to "cold boot" the copier-scanner (and it worked, and a loud HURRAH was heard in the cube farm): 
"By NO means is anyone to take this as an indication that I know anything technological. Turning the damned thing off is the only acceptable thing to do, because my FIRST impulse would be to hit it repeatedly with a hammer."

No Good Can Ever Come From

This might as well be a companion piece to this previous post. 

No good can ever come from the husband finding out about my (now, not-so-) secret stash of dog poop on the balcony*. He has been telling me, repeatedly, how I'm a psychopath, and how he anticipates his disembodied head to be in the freezer any day now.

*Full disclosure: Dog poop to be strafed in the area outside my balcony, to form a field of fecal land mines, to help thwart/repel the feral spawn of inattentive condo owners. The aforementioned spawn have a club house, basketball court, swimming pool, and playground all at their disposal. Where do they congregate to make their RUCKUS (up until 9 p.m., no less)? Yes. Outside my balcony, thus ensuring I can never sit out there to enjoy my balcony and the greater outdoors in relative peace and quite. My dog poop stash is a fecal fuck you.

End note: 6/26/13 Dog poop as a passive-aggressive tool works. At least in the short term. For once in the seven years I have lived in my condo, I was finally able to enjoy sitting out on my balcony, relaxing in a lounge chair, in peace and quiet. 

Guess Who's The Jew: Part Two

Hank Azaria. Whoah! Didn't see that one coming AT ALL!

Portmanteau a la Minute

I cannot even lay claim to this one; however, a friend shared the image with me, hence, I'm sharing it herein.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Shit My Husband Has Said To Me

Preface: So we're talking about dogs mating, and he asked why the get locked together. I mention a bit about the "bulb" and how after sexytimes, that is what locks dogs together, I think it's a mechanism of nature to keep the dogs together to ensure the likelihood the female gets pregnant.

Him: I think it's to ensure they get enough cuddle time (okay, he actually said, cuddly-boodly).
Me: Yeah, because we ALL KNOW how much dogs dig post-coital cuddle time.