Friends, Fears, and Flan

I was visiting some of my best friends in the whole entire universe the other day. We hung out for hours at a coffee shop talking about rigor mortis and poetry, old bones that could either be linked to a decades old murder or someone's thrown out chicken dinner, anthropology, tattoos, and watermelon (see video below for more watermelon adventures from the one and only, Hartbeat).

It was a blast. I made a new friend, drank some amazing coffee (thanks to Houston's Black Hole Coffee House), and basked in the glorious feeling of being cocooned in the cacophony of those who understand me.

After the caffeine had successfully saturated my entire being, we decided to head out for some grub. It made sense to take one car since there were only four people. Our car smells like farts and seven-year-old-boy-spilled-everything, so I delightfully chose to go in our friend's car. That's when she said it.

"Neither of you are scared of cockroaches, are you?"

I started to sweat a little. My heart rate quickened. M'Lady was in the bathroom, unable to make fun of me in this horrendous situation.

"Yes," I said, "I have a horrible problem with cockroaches." Big swallow. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, there are some cockroaches that have nested in my car, but I haven't seen one today."

What the fuck!!!! Cockroaches. In. The. Car. Noooooo! This is not something my fragile, people pleasing mind is capable of handling. I'm supposed to be all, "Nah, it's okay gurl, I ain't scared of no roach."

Instead, instinct kicked in.

"We're not going in your car. I cannot handle that. No."

Of course, I eventually decided I was being a big 'ol wimp pie and acquiesced to riding in the midst of the nest. It really didn't look that bad. The mess was much smaller than our molded out car. I buckled into the front seat, ready to head out.

"Can you please get out of the car," my friend said in a gentle, but shaky voice.

I jumped out faster than one of those rabbit's from Snatch, held onto the edge of the door, shaking with tears forming in my eyes.

SMASH! She bravely destroyed the beast as I began to crumble into hysteria. Luckily, I really needed to change my tampon, so I excused myself to the bathroom. It turns out periods aren't completely useless. All in all, I think I handled myself pretty well.

After washing my hands (if you don't wash your hands after using the bathroom you are a dirty, filthy person), I got back into the car and we headed to a 24 hour Mexican restaurant. I wasn't hungry so I watched my friends eat guacamole burritos while M'Lady brought up the topic of fisting. The waiter came by and asked if we wanted anything else. Tres Leches? Flan? He had me at creamy, caramel custard. One flan for the bunch.

As it arrived on a simple plate, with a simple fork, gleaming in it's sugary goodness, I could not help but proclaim, "That's FLANTASTIC!"

The waiter simply walked away. If he knows what's good for him, he'll use that line on future customers. Who could resist tipping such genius?

Anyway, the night ended with M'Lady twerkin' 'cross the front window of the restaurant, much to the amusement (or disgust) of the proprietor.

THIS POST WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY FLAN

Hilarious Quotes From My Life PART IV

It's been a VERY long time since I've posted, and lucky for you, that means I've had a lot of time to have funny things happen. Enjoy.

THE BOY: Oh no, oh no, oh no! Can I say a bad word?
ME: Sure, I guess.
THE BOY: Oh SHIT my butt itches so bad! Can you please put some cream on it? Look! It's red!
He proceeds to bend over, spread his cheeks and stare at me with his red eye.
ME: Um, sure.
I go to the cabinet to put saran wrap around my finger before applying lotion. 
THE BOY: Why are you putting tinfoil on my butthole?!!
M'LADY: Seriously?
She proceeds to put her naked rash cream covered fingertip directly on his butt, effectively helping him feel better, being a normal mom, and giving me the willies.

M'LADY: Sophie's always putting her vagina on me! Sophie is the dog.
ME: I've decided to just think of it as a flap of skin. She's always putting her vag on me too.
M'LADY: I guess that makes sense. She's a virgin, right?
Where the hell did that come from and why does it matter? My wife is so weird. We're perfect for each other.

M'LADY: We had a cat that was in heat. She howled all the time.
FRIEND: If I was in heat I'd be howling all the time too. My roommate would be knocking on my door like, "You okay in there?" and I'd answer, "Hooooooowwwwlllllll! Somebody come fuck me! NOW!"
ME: You'd have guys clawing at your door trying to get in. All like, "Damn, she's in heat."
FRIEND: Hell yeah. That'd be amazing!
If I could put Pictionary drawings into quotes, her drawings would be here as well. Hilarious night!

A favorite stanza from a poem I wrote called Only the Good Die Young that I performed at a poetry slam
ME: I will appear frail and sweet
As I feed pop rocks to pigeons
Counting the days down
As my teeth fall out
Longing for dentures
So I can perform vagina dentata
For my caretakers

We recently went to White Sands, NM on a family vacation. We learned that water is available in this desert as little as 30 inches below the earth. We also learned there are Apache mice, amongst several natural inhabitants, native to the area.
M'LADY: Hey buddy, what are you doing?
THE BOY: I'm digging a hole.
M'LADY: I see that. Is it to fill with water? It might take all night for the water to seep up, you know.
THE BOY: I know, mom. This hole is for the kolache mouse!
***Note: For those who don't know, a kolache is sausage wrapped in dough, part of German and Czech cuisine. There are also fruit and cheese varieties. It is similar to a pig in a blanket, but way better.***

In Austin, TX we have this humongous music festival called South by Southwest (SXSW) and for the past few years, a queer venue has popped up called GayBiGayGay. Sometimes you hear some things.
ME: Honey, it's completely okay to say my motorcycle is yours.
M'LADY: But I can't even drive it.
ME: But she was really cute.
M'LADY: You have a point.

QUOTE 1: Thank god it's dark now. Us queens need an excuse to take off our wigs. It's hot in this bitch!

QUOTE 2: Meet us by the inflatable moonwalk, the one that looks like a vagina.






THIS POST BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE ELUSIVE KOLACHE MOUSE

GRAVEDIGGER

You may or may not know that aside from blogging, I also use poetry as a creative outlet. This post will be the first (possibly of many) Life in a Snowglobe post that fuses blog drawing and poetry. I feel it is best read aloud with a backwoods Georgia drawl, for those who are reading out loud at home. Enjoy, you kooky lovin' bastards!

GRAVEDIGGER

I spent an April hacking away at this stump
Swinging an ax handle like prayer

Shoveling out rotten roots

An obsession on destruction
Gave all my strength to excavation

Wanting to  know what was underneath

Hoping I’d find faeries amongst the fungi

Little by little I exposed roaches

Scooping away dirt revealed rocks

And dirt

And I dug

My shovel sinking into wood like grave sites
Pulling up chunks
Roots like limbs, heavy

Ash to hollow ashes
A corpse is full of life
I never saw myself as an ax murderer

More like a liberator

Freeing this long dead thing

Uncovering what it never showed in life

Chopping methodically

Aim, raise, swing

Using my knees

A moment tastes like sweat and mushrooms

Spring feels like summer

When the human machine overheats

Mechanical energy hot enough to start forest fires

Raw labor can be so centering

Too much for one session

Spread it out over days

Over hours

Savoring blunt force trauma

Like a worn out wood chipper

Making mulch of the underworld

One time I got so hot I had to get naked and hug a frozen turkey

It sounds crazy until you’re doing it

A dead bird embrace may be the only thing that can comfort you one day

I recommend putting a towel under it

It’s bad for the tissue to be exposed directly to something so icy and fowl

I drank at least two or three gallons of water

Sweated out to soften the hardest parts

Wood splitting like fault lines

Splinter showers like lumberjack wet dreams

Back building swings hoisting sharp tools

Like scalpels jacked up on steroids

Exacting revenge for the origin of paper cuts

Obsession worth syncopal episodes

Sloppy determination clouded with yellow spots

Finishing the job with my bare hands

Grizzly and growling polarity in brown and black

Wrenching the last chance at life from the earth

I stare into emptiness and soil

And curl up to let my Mother hold me

THIS POST BROUGHT TO YOU BY POETRY

Elemental Eating

THIS POST WAS INSPIRED BY KYLE

Real life mythology

The other day I was watching PBS when a commercial came on for a special on arctic life. I was so excited.

I perked up and proclaimed, "Yay! Narwhals on the artic show. I can't wait!"

To which my wife replied, "Wait, narwhals are real?"

What could I do but laugh at her hilarious joke.

"No really, narwhals are real?"

I stared at her, unable to mask the look accusing her of being a complete dumbass. She had to be kidding. This is an intelligent lady ya'll. For real. I have to ask her what half of her vocabulary means. Well she WAS intelligent. Then she continued her rubbish brained talk of mythical lands.

M'LADY: "Narwhals aren't real. They can't be! They're the unicorns of the sea!"

ME: "They're definitely real."

M'LADY: "But they have a horn!"

ME: "Actually, it's a tooth."

M'LADY: "They're sea unicorns."

ME: "Shutup."

The following viral internet video is where my saddeningly illusioned wife got her information about narwhals.



Let us have a moment of silence for those of you just now realizing narwhals are not mythological. And now, a cartoon in honor of M'lady.

THIS MESSAGE WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY REAL NARWHALS

Hilarious Quotes from my Life III

I tried to kiss M'Lady in the morning.
M'LADY:Wait, I need to brush my teeth.
ME:I should probably brush my teeth again.
M'LADY:Why?
ME: Cuz I just ate nuts.
M'LADY: Does it even need to be said?

M'LADY: I wish I had a butch body. I just look so much better in femme clothes.
ME: You can wear whatever you want honey, but, yeah,I know what you mean. You really do have an incredible hourglass figure.
M'LADY: Nowadays it's more like an hour-and-a-half-glass figure.

In response to Super Day's "She the Wetest in the Building SFW"
video.
ME:Wet like a leopard slug, wet as a waterfall. Twisted puppy fucker try to fuck me like a pedophile.
M'LADY:When I put it in your face you might just drown, I will give you a snorkle and you can go down
ME:Can't skip a skip rock cuz I'm not a lake, punk. Just because I'm wet don't mean I want a rock thrown in my junk
M'LADY:If you put peanut butter trying to get your dog to lick me(long pause, beat drops) I WILL SHOOT YOU, SON.
ME:Fuck Thanksgiving turkey, don't you know I need a tube steak. My pussy ain't no oven, bitch but it wet like a tres leches cake.

ME:I don't know what's wrong with me. I want to be horny. I want to WANT to have sex with you. Like the other night, when you started licking me, I clammed up...Oh my god. I didn't mean to say that. Hahahahahaha!

FRIEND:Facebook suspended my account until I removed the whale vagina!!
ME:Really? That's ridiculous!
FRIEND:Isn't it? I'm guessing someone reported it?
ME:Who would do that? Oh well, let's just draw vaginas instead and say they're flowers.
FRIEND:Yay!! Awesome!! Censorship is dumb. Especially when it's an animal's genitalia..Makes no sense to me...It's not like it was a gang raping video
ME:How would you gang rape a whale?
FRIEND:Idk...Killer whales, maybe. They are rude.
ME:They're more likely to, you know, kill. Maybe a hammer head shark, a gang of em. Asshole sharks raping the poor whale vagina.
FRIEND:That whale was asking for it. Putting her vagina out there on the interweb.
ME:No way. No means no, whether you understand sonar or not.
For real ya'll. No means no. An absence of a no does not equal a yes. This is not meant to belittle victims of rape, but rather advocate for them, regardless of species.



THIS POST WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY FLOWERS

DEATH MATCH: RED vs. WOODEN STICK OF DESTRUCTION

In this corner we see Red, a ninjamallow who doesn't mess around. He's seen more bubbling bodies of marshmallow cream destruction than the rest of the ninjamallow crew combined, which has left him a mere shell of a mallow. His strengths include anger explosions and cementing stickiness. His major weakness is triggers from past combat in the heat of the fires of retribution.

In this corner we see a stick. Okay, fine. It's not just a stick, it's The Wooden Stick of Destruction. What a douche bag. You know he got to pick his own name. Who would want to be The Wooden Stick of Destruction? I think he should be called the Wooden Stick of Douchebaggery. He thinks he's so great because he came from a tree. Too bad he's like the toenail clipping of a Great Oak. Oooooh, how scary. His strengtth is that he's pointy as fuck and can dish out one hell of a jab. His weakness, besides being a big wooden douchey douche bag, is that he can be snapped like a twig.

NOTE: This commentator is not biased, I don't care what you say.

NOW ON TO THE FIGHT...

The two start with equally cutting insults. The Wooden Stick of Destruction is definitely using his knowledge of Red's weakness here, but the mention of s'mores isn't quite enough to cause our ninjamallow to waiver. In line with this commentator's observation of the douchebag, I mean Sticky Stick of Destructing Things or Whatever, Red points out how insignificant his opponent seems in the grande scheme of things. The stick has held firm though and it's time for blows.

The Wooden Stick of Destruction launched, javelin like, through the air aiming for Red's center. Red didn't waste a second, jumping just inches above the stick's trajectory. The stick's speed was not fast enough for the ninjamallow, but it was fast enough to cause an intensely painful dive into the ground. Red jumped on the chance.

He cemented himself into a suger rock, smashing into the Douche Canoe Twig of Idiocy. A resounding BLAM! filled the arena, throwing dust and lightning into the air. The haze began to settle as the crowd inched to the edge of their seats...

The cement slam worked! Red won. It was a ninjamallow victory! The crowd roared with excitement. Meanwhile, the Wooden Stick of Destruction (and Douchebaggery) didn't do anything. Because he was dead. Because it was a death match.




THIS POST WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY PROCRASTINATION