Me:
+50 for being Sam
+3 "can I put cans in the microwave?"
+10 "I love lunchables"
+3 sprinkles
+3 pizza with ketchup
+30 "pudgies tastes the same going down and coming back up"
-2 turning down nutella
-1/2 salad
+5 chinese battle men = samurais
+15 combining wine and sparkling cider
+5 rust is not an element
+10 poop
+1 collecting box tops
+5 flipflops & smartwool socks
+2 microwaving cookie dough
+10 sunday afternoon drinking time
+3 driving with no shoes on
-3 liking Boyf's tofu
Metalhead
+5 birkenstocks & socks
+10 sunday afternoon drinking time
+5 making google translate read porn
-5 decent Russian accent
+5 sweeping dirt under fridge
Chef
+5 eating in his room so he "can watch tv"
+3 being too lazy to give Sam points
+2 "I love Walmart"
+10 domestic abuse (he accidentally hit Metalhead in the nose with a hockey stick and caused her to have a bloody nose)
+2 stripping in the CouchBoat
Giraffes
+10 footie pajamas
+10 for not wearing underwear in them
+10 Sunday afternoon drinking time
+5 farting on command
+8 trying to light her farts on fire & almost lighting herself on fire
+15 trading sex for a burrito ("the burrito was better than the sex")
Showing posts with label Metalhead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Metalhead. Show all posts
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Metalhead's 21st Birthday
I'm starting to write this at 1:53am on Saturday May 21st. Metalhead turned 21 tonight. And what a marvelous event it was.
Upon arriving at Chappies (da bar) she was immediately served a whiskey sour, a shot of gin (she loves gin) and a Long Island Iced Tea. Fifteen minutes later those were gone and she had another host of drinks including a Melon Ball, an amaretto something or other, and 2 beers. At around 12:25 all the alcohol finally hit her and she just got drunker from then on. Soon after this, she literally let out a primal scream loud enough for the ENTIRE BAR to stare at her like some sort of demon, and then she licked my arm.
In the course of an hour, Metalhead managed to lick, bite, grope, punch, and bitch slap me. She was super drunk (all is forgiven) but I will definitely have some hand prints in the morning. She also managed to stuff at least three handfulls of popcorn down the front of my shirt. Quite forcefully, I might add.
As she got drunker, I (and the rest of our friends who were there) took advantage of her borderline OCD to rearrange her three drinks that looked to be in volume order. She flipped a shit when she discovered that they weren't as she left them and said "NNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!??? THEY NEED TO BE IN FUCKING RAINBOW ORDER!" We must have altered the order of her drinks about three times and every time got the same reaction. Metalhead response to nearly everything was "I WILL SHIT ON YOU (or IN YOUR BED)."
Another quote "I DON'T HEAR ANY WORDS YOU GUYSSSSS" after we had all been talking to her.
Even though she had to literally be coached through the last two drinks, I'm pretty impressed with the amount she was able to handle. No doubt, she was drunker than I've ever seen her and it was hilarious. ("You think I'm drunk as fuck? WAIT TILL I STAND UP!" - drunk Metalhead). The last drink definitely did her in though, as she ended up puking it up into about 5 beer glasses while still sitting at the table. She put all of these puke-infused glasses under the table. She giggled about leaving her puke under the table for at least 20 minutes, then spent the next 20 minutes super paranoid that Chappies will never let her come there again because she left puke under the table. Even though she did puke, I'm pretty damn impressed that she got the vast majority of it into those beer glasses. Better in there than on the floor.
On the walk home, Metalhead
-ran into a fire hydrant
-decided to start sprinting up the sidewalk, and I had to run after her to make sure she didn't die
-stopped to wait for everyone to catch up with us, and decided that it was "Sleep Time" and just lay down on the sidewalk.
-saw a firework somebody let off, stared up at it and said, "LIKE A BAWWWSS!"
-attempted to break down our front door and nearly fell on her face when she discovered it was actually unlocked
-ran upstairs and locked herself in her room, then unlocked it because our friend Jeff had to pee off her front porch
-tried to ride down the banister
-right after she said she was going to bed (I had just gone up to my room), I heard some doors slam and then I heard her scream "YEEAAAHHHH MANNNNN!!!!!!" off her front porch.
Sadly, although she was pretty damn drunk she avoided all of my attempts to get her to be drunkenly social. At one point she wanted to text her sister but couldn't find her phone. Boyf had already told her he was turning his phone off. What a shame.
Although she sobered up a bit once we got home, she was still slurring her words and couldn't speak English half the time. No capitaleest peeg dawgs for her.
I'm sure I'll remember more stories as the day goes on.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Hoarding
Metalhead has insinuated that I am a hoarder. This is totally false. Hoarding is characterized by not being able to get rid of anything. I totally get rid of stuff. I just haven't cleaned out my stuff lately, thanks. :P
I know that I keep stuff that I really shouldn't, but mostly this stems from my environmental compulsion to never throw anything useful away. Mostly it's just me not wanting perfectly fine stuff to go sit in a landfill. I feel guilty when useful things sit in landfills.
Kelly is not so fortunate. My madre has what her counselor calls "an emotional attachment to stuff". She's pretty bad about keeping anything and everything that ever meant anything to her at all. I'm talking bikinis from high school, old Home & Garden magazines, and other various shit. Now, I keep a lot of stuff, but it's stuff that I intend to do something with or stuff that I actually use AND it's mostly contained in my room. Kelly just keeps stuff because she can't stand giving it up and not being able to control what happens after it leaves her possession. Plus her stuff is essentially the entire house.
Take, for example, when I decided to clean out our basement two years ago. We have lived in our house since 1998 and we now have more shit than we know what to do with, so it was about time that somebody tackled that hoarding den that is the lower floor. I came across a box full of Kelly's notebooks from middle, high school and community college. When I took them upstairs to throw them in the recycle bin she had an absolute fit and refused to let me do away with the damn things. I mean, these are notebooks full of writings my mom will never, ever use again. Do you think she knows anything about chemistry or the Latin class she took her freshman year of high school (and failed)? Hell no. Has she touched that box of notebooks in the last 10 years? Yeah right. That, ladies and gents, is a hoarder. Her reason for keeping them stemmed from the "poetry and journals" she wrote in them. Jesus mother, tearing out a couple of pages with your angsty teen diary entries is not that goddamn hard. There is no need to keep an entire notebook that is sucking up space in our already cramped basement so that you can save your stupid doodles. We ended up getting into an argument that-- I kid you not -- consisted of us performing tug of war with a notebook. My father was just sitting in the LayZBoy looking at us like we're nuts. This ended with the recycling of about half the notebooks, and keeping the rest.
Mike the bystander is not so innocent either, he of the can't-find-it-let's-go-buy-a-new-one mentality is another contributor to the household junk pile. There's a giant metal desk that has been sitting in our basement since at least 1999 that he brought home from work. It's still got the plastic on it and everything, but nobody has ever used it. Right now it's just a platform to put more stuff on. He also has this mental disease where he can't resist free stuff. WHY do we need four stress balls shaped like grapes? What about the three kinds of omelette makers? Or the rotisserie chicken cooker that we used once? He brings home so much crap that we don't need and will never use that it's not even funny. It's just a pain in my ass.
The most recent manifestation of this was when I cleaned out our cupboard. Since we moved into our house we've had a coffee maker in the corner of the kitchen. Mike is the only person who actually drinks coffee in the house and he never uses it. Why? Because he loves 7-Eleven coffee and is on a first-name basis with the people who work there. I've never seen him use this coffee maker. The only time it does see use is when we have guests over who want coffee, and even then only occasionally. Usually dad will just go out and get a large thing of coffee from Dunkin Donuts or something. So anyway, I took the coffee maker to the basement because nobody ever uses it and we need the counter space. I also sorted through all the mugs we had because nobody ever uses mugs either (except for hot chocolate) and we had about 50 for four people. I mean, you can only use one flipping mug at a time (and even still, double fisting hot chocolate will bring you to eight) and even with a bunch of guests that number is definitely excessive. So I took about 15 mugs to Goodwill. It took Kelly about three days to figure out something was a little off about the dishes cabinet, and then she didn't speak to me for three days she was so mad. This is the kind of shit I deal with.
Since I've been in college, I've actually gotten much much better about not keeping useless things. I would say about 60% of my stuff is books or clothes, and since my friend Tiedye is about the same size as me (just shorter, with bigger gazongas) I give her all of my clothes that I don't wear anymore, and take anything she doesn't want to goodwill. I would probably also attribute it to reading No Impact Man, which is a book that was made into a documentary. It's about a guy who lives in NYC who tries to live a no impact life with his wife and daughter for a year. It's super funny, and it made me realize that my house had all this stuff sitting around that no one was using. My general rule is that if it's been sitting around for a year and no one has used it, get it the hell outta here. Except then it sets off WWIII with Kelly. Whatever. I'll probably be moving out in a few years anyway.
I know that I keep stuff that I really shouldn't, but mostly this stems from my environmental compulsion to never throw anything useful away. Mostly it's just me not wanting perfectly fine stuff to go sit in a landfill. I feel guilty when useful things sit in landfills.
Kelly is not so fortunate. My madre has what her counselor calls "an emotional attachment to stuff". She's pretty bad about keeping anything and everything that ever meant anything to her at all. I'm talking bikinis from high school, old Home & Garden magazines, and other various shit. Now, I keep a lot of stuff, but it's stuff that I intend to do something with or stuff that I actually use AND it's mostly contained in my room. Kelly just keeps stuff because she can't stand giving it up and not being able to control what happens after it leaves her possession. Plus her stuff is essentially the entire house.
Take, for example, when I decided to clean out our basement two years ago. We have lived in our house since 1998 and we now have more shit than we know what to do with, so it was about time that somebody tackled that hoarding den that is the lower floor. I came across a box full of Kelly's notebooks from middle, high school and community college. When I took them upstairs to throw them in the recycle bin she had an absolute fit and refused to let me do away with the damn things. I mean, these are notebooks full of writings my mom will never, ever use again. Do you think she knows anything about chemistry or the Latin class she took her freshman year of high school (and failed)? Hell no. Has she touched that box of notebooks in the last 10 years? Yeah right. That, ladies and gents, is a hoarder. Her reason for keeping them stemmed from the "poetry and journals" she wrote in them. Jesus mother, tearing out a couple of pages with your angsty teen diary entries is not that goddamn hard. There is no need to keep an entire notebook that is sucking up space in our already cramped basement so that you can save your stupid doodles. We ended up getting into an argument that-- I kid you not -- consisted of us performing tug of war with a notebook. My father was just sitting in the LayZBoy looking at us like we're nuts. This ended with the recycling of about half the notebooks, and keeping the rest.
Mike the bystander is not so innocent either, he of the can't-find-it-let's-go-buy-a-new-one mentality is another contributor to the household junk pile. There's a giant metal desk that has been sitting in our basement since at least 1999 that he brought home from work. It's still got the plastic on it and everything, but nobody has ever used it. Right now it's just a platform to put more stuff on. He also has this mental disease where he can't resist free stuff. WHY do we need four stress balls shaped like grapes? What about the three kinds of omelette makers? Or the rotisserie chicken cooker that we used once? He brings home so much crap that we don't need and will never use that it's not even funny. It's just a pain in my ass.
The most recent manifestation of this was when I cleaned out our cupboard. Since we moved into our house we've had a coffee maker in the corner of the kitchen. Mike is the only person who actually drinks coffee in the house and he never uses it. Why? Because he loves 7-Eleven coffee and is on a first-name basis with the people who work there. I've never seen him use this coffee maker. The only time it does see use is when we have guests over who want coffee, and even then only occasionally. Usually dad will just go out and get a large thing of coffee from Dunkin Donuts or something. So anyway, I took the coffee maker to the basement because nobody ever uses it and we need the counter space. I also sorted through all the mugs we had because nobody ever uses mugs either (except for hot chocolate) and we had about 50 for four people. I mean, you can only use one flipping mug at a time (and even still, double fisting hot chocolate will bring you to eight) and even with a bunch of guests that number is definitely excessive. So I took about 15 mugs to Goodwill. It took Kelly about three days to figure out something was a little off about the dishes cabinet, and then she didn't speak to me for three days she was so mad. This is the kind of shit I deal with.
Since I've been in college, I've actually gotten much much better about not keeping useless things. I would say about 60% of my stuff is books or clothes, and since my friend Tiedye is about the same size as me (just shorter, with bigger gazongas) I give her all of my clothes that I don't wear anymore, and take anything she doesn't want to goodwill. I would probably also attribute it to reading No Impact Man, which is a book that was made into a documentary. It's about a guy who lives in NYC who tries to live a no impact life with his wife and daughter for a year. It's super funny, and it made me realize that my house had all this stuff sitting around that no one was using. My general rule is that if it's been sitting around for a year and no one has used it, get it the hell outta here. Except then it sets off WWIII with Kelly. Whatever. I'll probably be moving out in a few years anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)