~So. Remember that time I promise you an amazing surprise today? Um, well…

I lied.

Not on purpose, trust- no one is more disappointed than me that we have to wait… but it’s only a couple days, chickadees. I promise by the end of this week, you shall be privy to my fantabulous news… 

*cue suspenseful music, slash, me feeling like a total ahole* ~

Anyway, back to our regular programming for the time being…

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says.” Woot!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

B’s friend K is over and showing us his stylish new glasses, or as he calls them, his “FIRIN’ GLASSES.”

Firin' glasses.

K: Do you guys have glasses?

B: Yeah, I had glasses once. But then I lost them so I never got them again. They make your eyes weaker. Fuck that noise. I’m a MAN!!!

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As I’ve mentioned, this Friday is our two-year anniversary. My present for B is stashed in my closet, but his present for me hasn’t come yet. Not being someone who can ever wait for anything, I’ve been begging him to let me give him his since it arrived…

Me: Pleeeeeeeeeease can I give you your present?

B: No!

*We’re watching Tosh.0, as they feature a video mocking homeless people*

B: Did you get me a homeless person?

Me: No, but that’d be AWESOME. Then we’d have a dishwasher!!!

I know. So wrong. Blame it on the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-alcohol…

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A smelly B arrives home from his soccer game, and I have a flashback to the last time he came home, which somehow resulted in his vile soccer socks being draped over my (yes, still unpacked) luggage bag from Vegas.

Me: Don’t you put your dirty soccer socks on my suitcase this time!!!

B: *shrugs* I can’t help it, baby, that’s the Drying Place!

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Trying to find a new show on Netflix Watch Instantly, we stumble across “Satisfaction,” a series featuring the working gals of an Australian brothel.

Me: Um, I’m not so sure about this one.

B: You’re always so against me wanting to see 18 year old shirtless girls! You never support any of my hobbies!

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My present better be something amazeballs.

B and I don’t fight often.

But when we do, it’s almost always about something entirely insignificant, like who has to go downstairs to get the takeout from the delivery guy. (We’re really big on Not Wearing Pants in our house, which clearly, this interferes with.) And 99 times out of a hundred, any argument- or negotiation, really- is entirely in jest. Unless of course it’s my week to “attract vampires,” and then not only is it dead serious but I am 100% right and NOT AT ALL BATSHIT CRAZY, no matter what the situation is.

Duh.

But the other night, we got INTO it for once. And it was bad.

You see, I am a Fall Asleep With TV On (FAWTO) person.

B, on the other hand, is an incredibly selfish Fall Asleep With TV Off, Because For Some Strange Reason He Can Turn Over, Sprinkle Some of His Magic Fairy Dust He Hides From LiLu On His Eyes, and Be Dead to the World Within 2.0 Seconds (FAWTOPBFSSRICTOSSOMMFDIHFLABAW2.0S) person.

Look, as we’ve established round these parts over the past few years, I am probably not the most “stable” person on the planet. The thoughts whirling around inside my head at any given moment are akin to what it would look like if Peter Griffin, Chelsea Handler, and a unicorn had a baby and it was ribbon-dancing a la Will Ferrell around inside my brain.

See? Scary stuff.

Anycrazypants, my point is that I simply cannot fall asleep unless my loco-ass mind is distracted. I have to trick myself into caring about the Kardashians’ latest baby scare, or Alton Brown’s ceramic potted planter BBQing technique, or whose makeup is the most atrocious on Jerseylicious (it’s Olivia, FYI), just so that I can put my own mile-a-minute thoughts aside long enough to go unconscious.

B, on the other hand, prefers to fall asleep in this very, very unnerving thing he calls… dum dum dum… 

“QUIET.”

I know. Go figure.

In truth, I know it’s probably not exactly healthy to rely on cable network to lullaby me to sleep, but it’s been my way for over a decade now. The thought of going to bed and lying there, staring wide-eyed at the blank white ceiling with nary a Jon Stewart joke to snap me out of all the inane worries that wash over me is, well, terrifying.

And so, friends, I am at a loss. Perhaps the time has come for me to give up my late night affair with The Soup reruns and a plethora of Real Housewives dramz. It breaks my heart to say goodbye…

Let’s just hope it doesn’t break my mind.

Last night, as I was buried in George R. R. Martin’s third book of his “A Song of Fire and Ice” fantasy series, B looked over at me- from his iPad, no less- and said:

“Look at you. I’ve officially turned you into a nerd.”

Of course I balked, because I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Dork than a Nerd, but upon reflection…

He’s right.

As the all-knowing Urban Dictionary says,

vs…

We watch Legend of the Seeker, Merlin, and Avatar: The Last Airbender religiously. We laughed and cried through all of BSG, mostly when it ended.* I’ve read Ken Follet’s The Pillars of the Earth, World Without End, and three of the George R.R. Martins, all in the past year or so, which are each a THOUSAND pages… when my vacations used to be peppered with US Weekly and Charlaine Harris.

I may not really understand (or care) about the difference between sci fi and fantasy (is it dragons? It’s totally dragons, right?), but apparently my dad did the job instilling the nerd in me all those years ago when we father-daughter bonded over every episode of The Next Generation ever. (Lex, the first man to give you “a funny feeling you didn’t quite understand” was Jordan Knight? Well, mine was Captain Picard.)

So, I guess I’m both now, dork AND nerd. And I’m totally cool with that. I just think it’s hilarious that now B’s the one on the couch with a computer on his lap, and I’m nose deep in a 1000 page book about kings and wights and dragons and catching myself saying things like “folly!!” and “you craven!!” in everyday conversation. (I’m a blast at the office, truly.)

I guess it’s just proof of what sharing two years of fart jokes with someone will do to a person.

I just hope we don’t start to look like each other…

Le sigh.

*Duh! How could I forget BSG and the consumingly-awesome Edward James Olmos?? Thanks, Kev!

P.S. Have you voted on a date for DC Happy Hour yet??

P.P.S. And while we’re District-ing it up around here, check out my round up on DC Blogs.

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says.” Woot!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In bed, Axe Murderer is within grabbing distance…

B: Hey, grab me a cat!

I snatch her up and try to cat-wrangle her, but fail… and she jumps away, using my left boob as a platform.

Me: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!

B: That’s what you get for grabbing her.

Me: You told me to grab you a cat!!!!

B: Psssh. If I told you to jump off a bridge would you do it?

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On gchat…

Me:  I don’t want to work out tonight. I’m periody.

B:  I dont want to work out either… I’m sympathy-periody.

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While watching Dexter; the main character is having a hard time assisting a friend suffering from lung cancer with suicide…

Me: Would you kill me if I was suffering like that?

B: Totally.

Me: You WOULD?

B: Sure. {All tender and shit} You know, if you really wanted me to.

Moments later, the conversation turns to the notion that Murray and Axe Murderer will, in fact, pass on one day.

B: Stop! No! They’ll never leave us!!

Me: OH. So you can cavalierly discuss going all Kevorkian on me, but the mere mention of our cats dying someday is unthinkable?!

B: Pretty much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As we’re about to watch Vampire Diaries…

B: Ready for some VD?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Domestic bliss, my friends.

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says.” Woot!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In bed, contemplating the next round of our workout program…

B: Maybe you can do a real pull up tomorrow!

Me: {skeptical glance}

B: C’mon, it’ll be useful- you know, if you’re ever in a big hole! Or a well. A well with a bar in it. … {ponders introspectively…} It would suck to die in a well.

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On the couch…

Me: You’re breathing loudly over there. Are you mouth breathing?? You know what they say about mouth breathers.

B: That they breathe better because mouths are bigger than noses? Is that what they say?!

***Ed. note: B is NOT a mouth breather. This was a fluke, hence why I commented on it. Gross.***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching the furbabies fight, and for once, Murray is winning…

Me: Axe Murderer’s getting fat, man.

B: {all defensive and shit} She’s not fat! She’s just pleasantly plump.

Me: *skeptical side-eye glance*

B: Well, she’s not pleasant… so that kind of rules that out, huh? I guess she’s just plump.

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After brunch with the girls, I arrive home on Sunday to find B lounging on the couch… with a towel rolled up behind his neck.

Me: Um. Why do you have a towel rolled behind your head?

B: So I don’t have to hold my head up to watch TV! DUH!

Me: ……………………………

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 I guess we really do need one of those ridiculous neck contraptions from SkyMall.

Don’t forget to check out my round up today on DC Blogs!

Last evening, B and I had our nightly battle in which he attempts to convince me to scratch his NAKED back, and I wail and protest and squirm and add multiple syllables to words in true five-year-old whining fashion. I will not go gentle into that good night!

Now, I’ve talked about this before- twice- I just cannot STAND the idea of all those dead, flaky skin cells cropping up underneath my fingernails. It makes me own skin, well, crawl. (Ew.)

When first confronted with my dead skin phobia,* he maintained it was worth my suffering because then if he ever murdered me, I’d be fortunate enough to have his DNA under my nails to prove it was him. Which doesn’t really work out because then I’m A) dead, and B) he is a tricky bastard and we’ve watched all five seasons of The Wire, so I’m pretty sure homeboy knows how to get rid of a dead body by now. You just don’t watch Stringer Bell operate without picking up a thing or two.

Mmmmmmmmmmm.

Anyhoo, this was his new and improved argument last night:

B: {rips off shirt}  Baby, will you *please* scratch my back??

Me: Gross!! You know I hate that!

B: {puppy dog eyes}

Me: Fine. Put your shirt back on and I will.

B: {heavy sigh}  Then I can’t FEEL anything! Come on, think about it. That’s like asking someone to put pants on before they bone you!!!

Me: ………………………

Too-shay, my dear. Too-shay.

He may have won last night. But he can’t come up with these forever.

Can he?

*cringe*

*This is no way applies to peeling off sunburned skin flakes. That, of course, is pure awesome.**

**I NEVER CLAIMED I MADE SENSE. Shuttup.

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says.” Woot!

(Oh, and bee tee dubs, I’ve had about a zillion requests for another round of Life Advice from B… so go ahead and ask your questions today! I’ll post his answers on Tuesday, if I can get him to do it by then. Tell him how handsome he is or something for encouragement.) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

While watching an ITT Tech commercial, the happy couple’s children are bouncing away on a trampoline behind them… 

Commercial: “We didn’t know WHAT we were going to do when John got laid off…” 

B: And now we’re trampoline rich, bitch!!! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

B is a lover of all things chicken wing. Last week we ordered some and they happened to come with the buffalo sauce on the side. As I watched him slowly, tenderly, smother each wing in two different kinds of hot sauce, I couldn’t help myself… 

Me: So… you gonna make love to it or what? 

B: It used to be a GIRL chicken! Heyo!!! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

As our kitchen is roughly the size of Harry Potter’s cupboard under the stairs, it is rather hard to prepare anything without the cats being ALL up in our biznass… 

Me: Axe Murderer! Goddamnit! I will slap your face off your FACE if you don’t get out of here! 

B: Baby, it’s raw hamburger! What if someone was holding raw internet in front of you?! You’d be interested too! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

While waiting for the elevator in our building… 

B: You know what I hate? I hate when you’re already waiting for an elevator, and someone comes up behind you and pushes the already-lit button AGAIN. Because basically, what you’re saying is you think I’m too dumb to push the button. Like I’m actually stupid enough to think my scent is going to call the elevator to me. So pretty much, that means I should punch you in the face. Bam! 

Me: ………….. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Ahhh, men. 

Don’t forget to meet us out for Happy Hour tonight! 6pm at the Vapiano’s at 18th and M. I’ll be wearing my Love Harder shirt – FTW!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

<a href="http://www.livitluvit.com/category/tmi-thursday" target="_blank"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss5/Livitluvit/tmithursday.jpg" border="0" alt="TMI Thursday" /></a>

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

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This is a short-but-sweet, my friends.

Well, maybe “sweet” isn’t the right word…

Short-but-PUNGENT, perhaps?

You’ll see.

Yesterday morning, I made a pot of coffee before B got up, so that he could wake up to fresh coffee. There are few things that excite the man as much, and I really should do it more often, if only to hear his squeals of joy.

An hour later or so, he looked over at me tenderly, and said this:

B: “Baby?

Me: “Yes, dear?”

B: “I need to go T.C.O.B.“

Me: “Uhhh. Okay… thanks for the status update? We have Google Buzz for that now, though.”*

B: “Well, I was just wondering if you needed to pee first.”

Me: “Awwwwww. No, I’m good. You go right ahead. But thanks.”

Now that is what I call true love and consideration for one’s partner.

(This story brought to you by Two People, One Bathroom Productions.)

*I didn’t really say that. But it would have been a GREAT one, no?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other awesomely bad TMIs this week…

Classy in Philadelphia’s TMI Thursday- The Time I Accidentally Made Out With A Freshman

That Kind of Girl’s TKOG Who spills the bloody details

PQ’s TMIT: Frosbitten Indecent Exposure

The Sassy Seminarian’s TMI Thursday: Dining Hall Dash

Jenny DB’s TMI Th: anything but anal

P’s TMI THURSDAY: GONE TO THE DOGS/HORSES/SHEEP/GOATS/INSERT OTHER ANIMAL HERE . . . NOT LITERALLY!!!

BigSis’ TMI Thursday: Feeling Crafty?

Carissa Jade’s TMI Thursday: Skid Lake

Late-Night Drama Queen’s TMI Thursday: Martini Mayhem

Living Wicked’s TMIThursday: Barfy Valentines Day, Honey!

GregoryJ’s TMI Thursday – Moon over Lake Erie

Sebastian’s Dirty real-time Formspring

Sean’s TMI Thursday: Cabin Fever

Cleveland Poet’s TMI Thursday: Wrong bloody bathroom lady!

Beverly’s (My First) TMI Thursday: Carlos Rossi

Vittoria’s TMI Thursday: Snoverkill Cabin Fever

Lucy’s TMI Thursday: People of ……

UNITEDSTATESOFBOHICA’s UNITEDSTATESOFBOHICA.COM: Apparently it’s TMI Thursday…

Ashley’s If Yasmine takes the pictures, it’ll be the pup-arazzi

vixation’s Two Thank You’s and My Very First TMI Thursday!

Dominick Bonny’s TMI Thursday: I have a crush on Lindsey Vonn

JewliaGoulia’s TMI Thursday – 9th Edition

amber murphy’s TMI: because if you don’t read my blog on Thursdays, it’s your loss

ClaireMontgomeryMD’s tmi thursday: fear becomes reality

Ms. Terri’s TMIT – At the Expense of a Child

Just A Girl’s (Not Really) TMI Thursday

Just Linda’s From the department of women’s underwear management…

Confessor69’s TMI Thursday: Cat hair, boobs, and massive blood-loss

First things first, chickadees. If you haven’t read yesterday and Loved Harder yet, please make sure you do. Thanks to all who posted, tweeted, donated, or just watched us make singing fools out of ourselves. You really have made a huge difference!!!

Now on to the TMIT mayhem!

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Steal this button and put it in your post just by copying and pasting the html code in the box below, or just link back to the hub with this link, so your readers can read ALLLLLLL the TMI glory, and I’ll make sure to link to you.***

<a href="http://www.livitluvit.com/category/tmi-thursday" target="_blank"><img src="http://i556.photobucket.com/albums/ss5/Livitluvit/tmithursday.jpg" border="0" alt="TMI Thursday" /></a>

Now get ready, my darlings, for the ever popular, yet gravely feared, TMI THURSDAYS…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a short one today because frankly, this week has wiped. Me. OUT. Between #loveharder and the 20SB awards, I have been working so hard and feeling so much that, well, yesterday just could never be topped. So I’m gonna take it easy today, if you don’t mind, and say a simple THANK YOU, thank you so much, all of you, for everything. Except for making me cry. Which didn’t happen. No it didn’t. No it didn’t! (But if it had, you’d all be in a lot of trouble.)

Enough schmoop! Without further ado, here is your TMI nugget for the day.

I occasionally have Fridays off from work, which is just freaking lovely, let me tell you. The one problem with this is whereas I’m usually the one getting up early and clunking around making noise while B tries to sleep, on these particular Fridays, the role is reversed.

And apparently, last week, he decided to get his revenge.

After letting his alarm go off 9,367 times, he finally crawled out of bed. He clomped around the room, gathering clothes and shoes and coats and hats and nuts and berries and I DON’T KNOW, BUT IT SEEMED LIKE A LOT OF CRAP.

Finally he left the room, and I listened to him roll around with what must have been two full grown tigers as he led a Siegfried & Roy routine around our living room, throwing jingle balls for Murray to fetch (which he DOES- wtf??) and dodging Axe Murderer’s murderous blows.

By the time he got to the bathroom, I’d given up. After he relieved himself, I went to do the same while he climbed into the shower, and…

Me: *sniff sniff* “Baby! Did you fart while you were peeing??”

B: “Of course I did. I always get in a good morning fart when I pee.”

Me: “SO WHAT YOU ARE SAYING TO ME IS THAT I AM SITTING IN YOUR FART CLOUD RIGHT NOW?!!?!?!”

B: “I didn’t tell you to sit there.”

Me: “You also didn’t tell me NOT to!!!”

B: *evil chuckle*

Sigh. At least I spent the rest of the day in nopants on the couch while he suffered at work.

I’ll take it.

Other awesomely bad TMI Thursdays…

That Kind of Girl’s TKOG Who rips her hair out (omg TMI)

Zan’s TMI Thursday: I’m Not a Size Queen, but…

Griffin’s TMI Thursday: Karma…yup, it’s a B*tch

Lucy’s TMI Thursday: The First Date Excitement

The Solitary Panda’s Scars

Carissa Jade’s TMI Thursday: The time it got stuck (not what you’re thinking)

Saphhyre’s TMI Thursday #6- the infamous oral fixation night.

JewliaGoulia’s TMI Thursday – 5th Edition

Jeff’s the cure to what ails you

Sheila’s Go-in to the Gyno…and we’re…gonna get a pap test (Sing that to: ‘Going to the Chapel’)

Cleveland Poet’s TMI Thursday: One man’s trash.

spleen’s TMI Thursday: strangest group of unrelated things I ever purchased

Sean’s TMI Thursday: Clogging Toilets

Travis’ TMI Thursday: My First Look At Real Boobs.

Tricia’s TMI Thursday: Drain Soup

Sebastian’s The school shower room

Lauren’s TMI Thursday: I Sincerely Thought That Would Work

Jeney’s TMI Thursday : Crapping my Pants

Wendy’s TMI Thursday: Walt Disney causes gender confusion in a toddler

ExMi’s TMI Thursday

amber murphy’s TMI Thursday: in which we weigh the melons

City Girl’s Sex during that time of the month

Life on Idle’s TMI Thursday

Dame Nuisance’s TMI Thursday: Mye Kwo Fffown

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says”! (Click for past “Shizzes”.)

(Duh.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Axe Murderer has developed this little habit of jumping on B’s lap and rubbing her face on his. Which, as someone who’d never owned cats before, freaked him out a bit the first time…

B: What the… what is she doing?!

Me: Cats have glands on their temples that secrete a scent… basically, she’s marking you as “her property”. Like when a dog pees on a fire hydrant. You should be honored.

B: Oh. Okay. (pause…) But little does she know I’m banging other cats all the goddamn time! Take THAT!

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On the couch. Per yoosh.

B: Name any problem in the world, and I’ll cure it with taking your pants off.

Me: Okay… Hitler!

B: Easy… take his pants off and no one will take him seriously.

Me: Okay… lupus!

B: Damn… that’s hard! You couldn’t give me AIDS or something!?

Me: Um, you could cure AIDS with “taking off pants”?

B: Sure… don’t do it! BAM!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In bed, there is suddenly an audible *toot*…

B: Wtf was that?!

Me: It was the cats!

B: No it wasn’t! I saw it on your face! You pushed that out!

*toot*

B: You’re STILL PUSHING!!!

Me: It COULD be the cats!

B: Stop spreading fart rumors!!!

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While stopping at Tonic for Happy Hour, B interrogates me as to which super power I’d rather have.

B: Okay. Being super fast vs. talking to animals. a la Doctor Doolittle.

Me: Well, super fast. Because then I could get to work and ANYWHERE in no time.

B: WRONG.

Me: What??

B: That is incorrect. You’d hit a million bikes on the way.

Me: But I’d move too fast for them! You said super fast! I’d just blink and I’d be at work.

B: I didn’t say TELEPORT. How dare you make the assumption you can bend space and time. I said nothing about that. Next. Ability to be a fly on the wall, or teleport?

Me: Teleport.

B: Thank goodness. You got one. Next. Be able to read people’s minds, or teleport.

Me: Teleport again. I can travel anywhere that way!

B: (sighs) Wrong again, but at least you gave reasoning this time. *shakes head*

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Humpday, mofos.

P.S. Vote? (Sorry.)

In light of the fact that I single-handedly deleted my entire 450-posts blog yesterday, I think we should all take a minute to hold hands and do some sort of earthy-crunchy breathing exercise. Maybe we can all go around the circle and say something “unique” about ourselves? Play the name game? I’ll be “LiLu Lamebrain”. Go!

I’m sorry. I just had a veryscary moment where I thought I might have lost all of you, this place, forever…

It did not feel good.

(And btw, the fact that it DIDN’T happen is a Christmas miracle courtesy of my dear friend Shauna, who originally set me up over here at the WP. She is up to her ears in customers already, but send some love her way via her blog or Twitter for me, mmmmkay?)

Anyhoo, I’ve decided to celebrate my further abomination on the interwebs blog existence with an installment of everyone’s favorite feature, The Shiz My Boyfriend Says (click for past Shizzes, obvs).

Commence!

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During the show Tool Academy, one of the contestants expresses his belief in the necessity of acting “aloof”.

From other side of couch…

B: Oh, hey… I didn’t see you come in there.

Me: You mean, to the couch we bought together… in the apartment we live in together?

B: Yeah. You been there a while? At least you look comfortable, that’s cool I guess. As long as you’re here, you might as well get me a beer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

)A special thanks to B’s work wife Jill for sharing this with me.)

At B’s work Holiday Party, they were playing some sort of trivia game…

Announcer: Which organ, taken from the sperm whale, was the largest organ to ever be removed from an animal?

B: (jumps up and shouts) PENIS!!!!

Announcer: Penis! I have Penis over here. B was first to answer with the response of “penis”!

Everyone Else: [fucking DYING of laughter]

FYI? The answer was “brain”. Nice, darling. NICE.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As has become our routine, B sets down his beer next to my side of the couch to pass to him after he then stealthily acquires a cat for his lap- in this case, Axe Murderer. He settles in with her and then looks over at me…

B: Hey, look at her tail![Her tail is up, and I am, therefore, looking directly into the "eye". YOU know what I mean.]

Me: Aw, come on!

B: Hahahaha I made you look at her butthole! Pound it, girl cat! [He tries to "pound it" with Axe Murderer, who merely looks annoyed.]

Me: It winked at me, you a-hole!

B: Hahaha. [Notices the one great flaw in his evil plan...] Hmm. Maybe I should have asked you to hand me my beer BEFORE doing that…

Me: [Evil grin, BIG swig.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the lazy snowed-in weekend, I managed to convince B to watch part of Step Up 2: THE STREETS with me. The premise: Unruly girl from “the streets” of Baltimore must go to hoity-toity arts school in order to stay with her foster mom, and is forced to choose between her “old crew” and the “new crew” she finds at said school. Then, obviously, the crews dance-battle it out in THE STREETS. While it’s pouring rain. Duh.

Me: I know this is horrible. You can change it if you want…

B: Naw… I relate to this, cause I actually broke up with 3 or 4 chicks because they told me they were going to school. I don’t need my women knowing how to READ and shit.

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And, in light of the fact that Maxie actually just GOT me a Bump-It for Christmas, I just had to include this gem…

(Commercial for the Bump-It comes on…)

Me: Why haven’t you gotten me that?!

B: I was hoping you’d get it for yourself! Why don’t you take some goddamn pride in your appearance. You’ve NEVER bumped it up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighhhhhhhhh. And everything is back to normal… just the way I like it.

Technically not posting today, BUT you may want to check out my newest youtube additions… if you’re into cat videos.

I know. We are SO freaking lame.

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says”! (Click link for past “Shizzes”.) (Duh.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night, watching Intervention, on which Jeff is far and away the most awesome Intervention-er of all…

Me: Baby, if I ever get addicted to meth or crack, I want you to DEMAND Jeff for my Intervention.

B: Obviously I’d get you Jeff! What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the couch…

Me: *half sneeze*

B: [Accusingly] Why did you abort your sneeze??

Me: I didn’t! It aborted itself. It was a sneeze miscarriage.

B: Sneeze abortion! Sneeze abortion!!

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Last week, when I got all period-y and perhaps a *little* crazy in the cabeza…

Me: I’m sorry. I hate being a girl sometimes.

B: It’s okay.

Me: Well, yeah. ‘Cause sometimes, you’re a dick.

B: And sometimes, you’re an ovary! See what I did there??

Me: ………………….

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In our building’s elevator, I notice the “moving pads” are falling off the walls.

Me: This place is falling apart. (Sigh) Oh, well… not our problem.

B: That’s RIGHT you do!

Me: What?

B: You said you gotta problem.

Me: No… I said not OUR problem. As in, we’re in this together.

B: That’s what you think. I just farted in the elevator. (Doubles over laughing at my facial expression) Haha! I did it again!

Me: Gah! I can’t believe you just made me walk through your fart cloud!

B: Air poop, more like.

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Did you get air-pooped on today? No? Then you’re doing better than me, my friend.

Happy Monday!

Yesterday, it just so happened that I doled out a lot of dating advice. This is kind of ridiculous, as I haven’t been on a date in almost two years, but hey, I had my fair shake before that.

But this wasn’t what concerned me on my dreary bus ride home after work; Lord knows I adore giving out (solicited) advice by the handful. But it occurred to me, as I tried not to get motion sickness while the 43 wound its way through rush hour traffic… that I will, in all likelihood, never go on another date again. And that thought made me warm and fuzzy inside, like a dose of riot eggnog in a can.

(Sidebar – ohmygaw LOOK Always Sunny Fans!!!!!!)

And then, the crazy, estrogen-floweth–over woman in me took over, and I thought, But what if.

What if one of us dies from the plu?

What if he leaves me for someone who doesn’t blog about our bowel movements, or getting peed on by our cats?

What if Maxie and I finally become famous reality TV stars, and the fame totally goes to my head and I accidentally bone John Hamm (just a little bit!) at Diddy’s “White Party”, and B can never forgive me?*

These are the important questions, folks.

Meanwhile, on the side of my insane inner monologue, I was simultaneously gchatting with a friend to get through the gray and ohsomoist ride home. My ballet flats were soaked through and my cold little tootsies dreamed of a warm fire and a serious comfort meal. Anyhoodles, this happened:

5:45 PM me: it is unbelievable out here

i just want to go home and cry

that’s how gross it is

5:48 PM Lexa: noo

that makes me sad

in the nethers

me: yes

i hope B made grilled cheese and tomato soup

because that is ALL I WANT

Finally home, I picked up a package at my building’s office- a surprise present for B- and trudged upstairs to find a nice bottle of red and shiny bigass wine glass sitting on the foyer table waiting for me.

“Awwww, honey! You are the best in the world!” I called, and made my way into the kitchen. “Here, I got you a little something…”

Without even looking at the package, he beamed at me and said, “Always Sunny Christmas movie?!”

“Uh, YES, actually,” I replied. Then I looked down at the frying pan, where he was cultivating what looked like the most delicious sandwich in the world.

“Um, baby?” As I took in the panini, the soup humming in the microwave, I looked at him in awe. “Are you… are you making grilled cheese?”

“And tomato soup,” he replied. Wait for it… “AND French fries!”

I died. I went to heaven.

And I knew, as I have a thousand times before, that this?

Is absolutely PERFECT, and I am one lucky sumbitch.

*Besides, John Hamm is totally on my “LIST”, so B couldn’t break up with me for that anyway. Boo yah!

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Awesome Announcement #1: You may have seen my tweets that I am honored to be DC Blogs‘ newest contributing editor. My first efforts are posted today- please head over there and let me know what you think.

Awesome Announcement #2: 20SB is now accepting nominations for this year’s 2010 Bootlegger Awards! Totally and completely badass. Make sure to nominate your faves…

Awesome Announcement #3: Since none of us will be looking at a computer on Thursday, other than the boys checking their Fantasy scores, I will be posting the fifth installment of TMI Thursday “Post Secret Style” tomorrow instead, and leave it up all weekend. Remember you can absolutely send more in, any time (to heylivitluvit at gmail dot com)! Every last one will be posted. This is too much fun- let’s keep it going!

Some of you are fortunate crazy enough to follow me on the insanity that is The Twitter.

Shameless plug WHAT!

Some of you are smart enough not to.

To you I say, tough noogies!

Please to enjoy some of the mini-drivels I subject my fellow Twatterers to on the reg…

Me: Am I overbearing? B: *(cheerful as shit)* Only when you’re overbearing!

I just said the word “hizzy”, with hand gestures. I really, really wish I had a picture of B’s face.

Dear Padma: This is like the third pants suit you’ve worn this season. WE ARE OFFICIALLY OVER.

This is really sad, but… finding out that Shift + Tab is “Tab” backwards? One of the ten best things that’s happened to me this year.

Me: Oh, you got tall boys tonight, huh? B: Yeah… it means I have to get off the couch less. On account of the four extra ounces and all.

Only on my blog do the comments turn into The Great Strap-On Debate. Oh, wait… there’s no debate. You’re all for it, apparently.

This is going to sound weird, but the IT guy who just helped me smelled really good.. like a dad who bought you a bike on Christmas morning.

A twee Hispanic man just hissed “lesbian” at me on the street. I look decidedly preppy today. Color me confused.

I am 95% sure the old lady next to me on the bus just pooped herself. Where’s an “Oops I Crapped My Pants” when you need one?!

Me: Is it weird that my go-to insult is to say they look like they have pubic hair on their head? … Don’t answer that. @LexaLemmy: I won’t.

Ahahahahahahahahaha!!!! http://tiny.cc/leU3Q The best part? He was already on probation for having sex with the SAME HORSE. via @chasrunner

B shaving off his beard, step 1:

B shaving off his beard, step 2:

B shaving off his beard, step Porno Star:

Me: You just CANNOT get a decent burger in Central America. @lexalemmy: I seriously want to post that to Things White People Say.

Coworker: Welcome back! Oh, you’re not tan. I thought you went to CR? Me: I did… this is super tan for me. Coworker: Oh. … I’m sorry.

In case you don’t want to look through 250 pics, my favorite from Costa Rica… SCOTT BAIO BARTENDER!!!!!!!

B just called me an evil hooker-whore. He then explained that it’s hyphenated when I glared at him with skepticism.

Awkward moment of the day: For some reason, I just told an almost-stranger of a coworker that my vacation was “magical”.

Apparently, Axe Murderer takes after her mama and papa – http://twitpic.com/q1yx1

LOVE IT.

It still hasn’t sunk in that tomorrow, yes, TOMORROW, I will be roaming the rainforest-y hillsides of Costa Rica with my lovah. You see that little post tag down on the right, the one that says “dear god how am I not still in Puerto Viejo“, and has FOURTEEN posts dedicated to it? Yeah, well… now I finally WILL be back on that gorgeous Caribbean beach… and I could not be any more stoked in the pants about it.

Don’t be too jealous. I’ll miss you guys, I swear. Just… a little less every time I sip something with a wee umbrella in it.

Now don’t fret- I do have a few posts scheduled to go up while I’m gone, especially the two next installments of the “Post Secret” TMI Thursdays. (Don’t know what Post Secret is? Click HERE to be amazed). Your submissions have been truly awesome… keep ‘em coming, too, and I’ll post them until we get every last one up for all to see. Send them to heylivitluvit at gmail dot com, and if you don’t want even me to know who you are, you can send it from the top secret email account I made just for this purpose…

Log in at Gmail with the username: tmithursday

Password: tmit1234

Okay then! I think we have time for one last “Shiz My Boyfriend Says” before I go, don’t you?

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Yesterday evening, he suddenly hops up off the couch…

B: Baby, I have a poop situation!

Me: By all means…

[He heads to bathroom, stops, comes back to the couch]

Me: What happened?

B: Forgot my beer.

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The other night, we were watching a DVD and left the player on while we went downstairs to do laundry. When we came back…

B: Why is the player off??

Me: It turns itself off after a while if it’s not playing.

B: Well that sucks!

Me: No, it’s good, actually. The player burns out faster if it’s left on all the time.

B: Listen, don’t you contradict me, woman!

Me: YOU taught me that!

B: Well definitely don’t contradict me with things I’ve taught you!!!

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In the bathroom…

Me: Baby, where’s the bathroom trash can?

B: I threw it away.

Me: … Um, why?

B: IT WAS INEFFICIENT!!!

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 While watching the Office…

Me: Damn. Erin has a serious rack.

[They talk about Michael falling into the Koi Pond...]

B: Those are like $2000 bucks!

Me: Excuse me?!

B: What? [Blank stare] The koi fish!

Me: OH. I totally thought you meant her boobs.

B: No! [Ponders] Well, those are probably about $2000, too.

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While watching Murray be his adorable dumb self…

B: Murray looks like a mongoose.

Me: He looks nothing like a mongoose.

B: Yes he does! He’s exactly the same. In fact, I replaced him with a mongoose a week ago and you didn’t even notice!! 

Me: … I can’t even argue with that logic. Good one, baby.

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Farewell, my lovely blogdudes and blogettes. I’ll check in when I can! Don’t have too much fun without me…

UPDATE: I just found out that my BFF Maxie is going to be moving here to DC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so mad I won’t be here this weekend to celebrate, but Lexa has already been instructed to get you a shot of tequila on me. LOVE YOUR FACE! Congrats and Happy Happy Birthday, my darling wife!

First things first… the TMI Thursday ”Post Secret Style” contest from yesterday has turned into so much more than some Firefly Vodka swag. I can’t believe how many I’ve received- some hilarious, some tragic, all brave and kickass entries that are guaranteed to move you in some way.

Yes, I am going to post ALL of them. I might have to spread this over a couple weeks so we can really enjoy them all- I want everyone who sent one in to be able to see the commentary it receives. I promise to email you and let you know when it’s going up, so if you used the Top Secret anonymous email account to send it in (Gmail, username tmithursday, password tmit1234), then make sure to check back- I’ll respond to that email chain. Please continue to send them in- I promise every last one WILL be posted!

I’m pretty sure tomorrow is going to be my favorite post of all time. Which is hilarious, because I had almost nothing to do with it (except for my own anonymous entry…)

Moving on!

This weekend I was lucky enough to have my Carolina girls in town, as KBo was running the Marine Corps Marathon (why yes, she DID rock it) and Meredith came up from the Cack to help me cheer her on.

We’ve all been close for half a decade now, and suddenly, all three of us are no longer carefree 21 year olds trying to get each other home safely from the bars… we’re staring our futures in the face. And somehow, each one of us has ended up making a home with a good man, and a few fur babies.

These chicas knew me at a time when there was a lot more piss and vinegar in me; when the “Masshole” was more of a truism than a joke. Over the years, we’ve watched Kbo’s relationship stand trial through a tour in Iraq and a semester in Australia. We spent years trying to pull Mere out of a bad relationship, only to have the perfect man swoop in and make her forget the jerk in a matter of weeks. Now, we’re planning her wedding while she coos at babies on the street.

It will be my very first wedding I’m actually in since I was a 5 year old flower girl, and from what y’all tell me, it’s going to be the first in a SLEW of them over the next couple years…

Bring it on.

Oh, how things change… and I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It’s been far too long! You all know this game by now… Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says”!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On G chat…

B:  dirty secret of today: I accidentally purchased a “luna” bar–the fitness bar made for women. I’m going to get my period and grow breasts!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While watching True Blood, Sookie and Bill are getting it on…

B: Wait. What happens when they’re boning and she’s on the rag? I bet Bill loves that shit.

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On the couch, I look over to see him extracting something from his nose. The expression on his face is a killer combination of awe and horror.

B: What the… I just pulled a girl cat hair from my nose! That was horrible… it felt just like throwing up spaghetti, when it goes on forever and you keep pulling and feel it moving through your whole nostril!

Me: [Laughing too hard to breathe.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At home, looking in a mirror…

B: What the… what is this on my face?

Me: Oh, yeah, I saw that earlier. You have one really long hair sticking straight out under your eye.

B: You SAW it?? Why wouldn’t you tell me?

Me: Well, I thought maybe it was just a loose hair or something. Apparently not. Hey, you know how I have that one blonde hair in the middle of my back that grows like an inch long?? I think it’s back. Will you try to find it later?

B: NO. No I will not.

Me: If you loved me you’d do it!

B: Well, there you go. I must not love you. I knew we’d have this conversation at some point, I just didn’t know it’d be about your back hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the couch, B has BOTH cats in his lap.

B: Baby, will you get me a beer?

Me: [glaring]

B: What?? I’d totally do it, but I’m cat rich, bitch!

Me: I’ll get you a beer if you give me a cat.

B: Puff puff give, baby!

Me: ……….

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On the couch, again. (I know… shocking.)

B: I would rank your overall ideas in your life like this:

1. getting the kitties
2. finding Always Sunny
3. loving me.

Because they’re always cute, Always Sunny never lets you down, but I’ll admit I’m a little up and down here.

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Happy happy weekend, everyone! Don’t eat too much pumpkin out there.

There are no words… all I’m going to say is that this was 150% B’s idea. He’s been pushing for it for a while, actually, on the grounds that Axe Murderer “should be able to murder things in her natural habitat, since SHE IS A KILLING MACHINE.”

I would say he’s just trying to get revenge for the time she made him pee on himself, but when you see the pictures… well, his love for his little darling murderer is palpable.

Anyway, what it basically boils down to, is my life = MADE.

(Please, please, if you can… click the four little arrow thingies to make it full screen. It’s pretty much the difference between HD and, well, NOT.)

It’s Leash Time, Bitches. from LiLu Livitluvit on Vimeo.

And for the 90% of you shaking your heads at us sadly and wondering if you can ever come back here…

I don’t blame you. But if you really don’t find that funny even the teeniest bit, I’m going to have to alert the government as to your status.

Which is COMMUNIST.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ZING!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t mind me. I’m a little crazy from having watched that video 9,000 times last night and laughing myself into the pee-pants zone every. single. TIME.

Happy Monday, chickadees.