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While re-watching “The Walking Dead” last weekend… (which, if you haven’t seen yet, you should remedy immediately. Just sayin.)

B: Just so you know, I would *totally* put you down if a zombie bit you. You know, before you turn.

Me: What?!?

B: Yes. It’s the humane thing to do. Don’t you think about what you’ll do when the zombie apocalypse comes? You wouldn’t put ME down?

Me: No! I don’t think I could do it.

B: That’s very irresponsible of you.

Me: *considering* Well, what if I was a vampire?

B: No, I would not put you down if you were a vampire.

Me: That’s something, at least.

B: It’s not the same! Vampires are awesome.

Me: So you wouldn’t care if I tried to turn you?

B: No, I would open my neck and be all GET THAT SHIT, because it’s bad ass.

Me: Okayyy, I get it. I mean zombies are all mehhhhhh whereas vampires are all insanely cool and, yanno, functional.

B: Exactly.

Me: Hmmm. Okay.

B: Now if you go wolfman, that’s a different story.

Me: What?!

B: Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t KILL you… but I’d chain you up for a few moons, wait to see how that plays out. You know, in case it’s horrible, like when you’re on your period.

Me: ….

B: But hopefully it WOULDN’T be like a period, and it’d be great. And I’d be all “wolfman me, baby!!” Cause let’s face it, Wolfmanning is a little below Vampire, but still way above Zombie.

Please tell me we’re not the only ones who discuss the hierarchy of monsters over dinner.

Mama said share.

Because it’s just so… well… ME.

via my favorites @ChelsTalksSmack and @LordWilliam

600 freaking posts… it’s been quite a ride. One that made us throw up sometimes, but hey, you knew what you were getting into when you started coming round this corner of the interwebs.

Happy three day freaking weekend, y’all.

Mama said share.

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.

Mama said share.

I’ve mentioned a few times how I have a little trouble with The Sleeping.

It makes no sense, right? It’s one of the few things we as humans are supposed to be PROGRAMMED to do. Eat, sleep, bone a little, eat afterwards, pass the eff out. In a perfect world, that’s how it would be.

But for some reason, MY body prefers to “pass out, wake up to pee at 5 am, fitfully try to go back to sleep but end up thinking about omgthereissomuchtodotoday and I forgot to take the rent check downstairs and it’s the 5th so I actually need to do it today and I can just SEE the dirty dishes in the sink mocking me and my skills as a good housegirlfriend and OH EM GEE I still have not unpacked my suitcase(s) from ten days ago, am I really a grown up? REALLY? because I’m pretty sure my grandmother who taught home ec for 50-odd years would be ashamed of the woman I have become…

…until Axe Murderer inevitably reaches through the end of the bed and sinks a claw into my big toe, at which point I sigh heavily, give up on sleeping all together, and shuffle out to the living room to begin what already feels like A Helluva Day.

So, a few weeks ago, my doctor gave me a prescription for Ambien. Which I put into action over the vacay last week… and found to be positively magical. I slept through the night, woke up rested, and barely noticed the kitty teeth gnawing at my itchy witchy toesie wosies in the wee hours of the morning. B even high-fived me on Sunday when I woke up at the oh-so-late hour of NINE THIRTY (gasp!!), and said, “Great sleeping, baby!”

And all was right with the world.

EXCEPT.

I’m not much of a dreamer. Maybe a flash here or there, but it’s been years since I woke up and actually remembered a dream.

Apparently, Ambien changes all that.

Suddenly, you’re dreaming- vividly- about cleaning out your grandfather’s recently-deceased (fictional?!) neighbor’s house, when you happen across a program for an old ballet recital you had, oh, TWENTY YEARS AGO. And you’re so out of it you can’t even remember if it was sweet or creepy in the dream.

The next night, I had no eyelashes. They were just… gone. I desperately tried (and went through) about a bucket of falsies, at which point of course I was covered with them and they, naturally, turned into bugs. Creepy crawly bugs. On my face. (Wait. Did you hear me? MY FACE.)

Last night was the kicker. We started watching “Deadwood,” and I was all stoked for some cowboy dreams.

What did I get? A little Seth Bullock “Montana” action? Maybe he rescues me from the evil Al Swearengen and we live happily ever after running the swingingest saloon in town?

Rawwwwr. Lasso me, baby.

Alas, my friends. I dreamt that Maxie and Lexa and I were in Vegas, feeding tigers cinnamon and accidentally killing hookers.

I think.

It could have been a panther.

But it was definitely a jungle cat.

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

P.S. Oh, dear god. Apparently I am also here today. With back up singers @lexalemmy and @katierose_ . Um, sorry I didn’t warn you guys?

The shame.

P.P.S. Did you vote for me yet in the 20SB Bootlegger Awards? You totally can. Til Sunday. I won’t even get mad. Swear.

P.P.P.S. Yesterday, my friend Rob’s blog about the documentary he’s directing looked like this.

Today, it looks like this.

Thanks to little ole me.

LOVE.

And cavy? You’re next.

Mama said share.

…is, apparently, to violently accost your friends’ and families mailboxes with an atrocity like this.

That. Just. HAPPENED.

The thing is, while hopefully this holiday abomination brought a smile to their faces, it in no way captured the journey that was this photo shoot. So now, I share this with the world…

I call it, “2 Cats 1 VeryCertainDeathofTheirOwners”.

Now, if someone could just tell me how the hell to top this next year, I would be eternally grateful.

(The cats, however, would not.)

Happy Holidays!

Mama said share.

One of the reasons- the main one, most likely- that I feel like I relate to so many of you, IMHO, is because I unabashedly share every teeny, tiny, weird little oddity from all the quirky corners of my personality… and you probably relate to at least ONE of those. I’m winning you over with a numbers game of weirdness!! *evil cackle*

Ahem. Anytwaffle, one of my strange and nonsensical hobbies is, (somewhat ironically,) that I actually keep a running record of all the less-than-normal *coughbatshitcrazycough* things I do. Seriously, whenever I do something and worry about how it would look if someone saw me/heard me/knew WHY I was doing it, I immediately think, “I should probably share that with the whole internet.”

So here we have it, folks. A collective running list of all the things I do that make me weirder than your average bear, purely for your enjoyment.

You’re WELCOME.

LiLu-isms, (For Only Me) To Live By…

I have a secret ‘code of conduct’ rule with myself on airplanes: I only put my seat back if the person directly in front of me does. Addendum: Or if the person behind me is especially obnoxious…

I absolutely DESPISE inner ear headphones. Can. Not. Do it. They hurt, they fall out, they just don’t fit… twss. Give me the big, klonky, nerdy “might as well be earmuffs” headphones any day.

I may or may not enjoy Christmas music year round. (Again, thank goodness for said enormous headphones… and personal iPods.)

I unabashedly love country music. And, I’m not even gonna justify by saying only I only listen to GOOD country, either, like Johnny Cash… nothing makes me happier than road tripping with my Carolina girl Kbo, belting out Trace Adkins’ “Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk“. DEAL WITH IT.

I have, have HAVE to brush my teeth before getting into the shower. There can be no exceptions. (This was never a problem before my cats got so damn sinky!)

Every. Goddamn. MORNING!

I cannot stand having multiple browser windows open. I would rather have 4,000 tabs open at once than two windows. Must. See. EVERYTHING at once!

Sometimes I leave corny comments on people’s posts when they’re of a serious subject matter, or I’m just not sure what to say. I then live in fear that Maxie will somehow see it and mercilessly make fun of me for it.

I get really, really excited whenever I make pasta and discover that I put in JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT of water when I add the noodles.

Speaking of my love for country music, I have to listen to Garth Brooks’ “Callin’ Baton Rouge” at least once every time I work out. I don’t know. It has a good beat!

Stop looking at me that way! We can still be friends, right? It’s not like I hate babies, or anything…

Oh.

Mama said share.

This week, my work counterpart unexpectantly called out sick… for the ENTIRE WEEK. Needless to say, doing the work of two people has not made this my favorite five days. Even worse, I was supposed to be sitting at home today, painting my toenails and torturing my cats while I watched the premiere of Jersey Shore I taped last night. Alas, I am sitting at my desk, plotting different routes to cropdust the office just for revenge-y shits and giggles.

But my misfortune is your gain, lovers. Let me show you a few things that my sympathetic friends sent to me to make this no good very bad week better!

I have watched this approximately 1,000 times on repeat, and no, it doesn’t get any less cute. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Snuggie meets the ShamWow! aka MAGIC SAUCE.

Yes, it’s bootleg… but it’s WORTH IT.

Oh, Cartman… when you’re on, you’re ON FIRE.

Happy Weekend, my dears!

Mama said share.

So, I realized that I never posted any of our Halloween pics, mostly because I’m lazy and they were on Maxie’s camera and she’s always going on about having dial-up in West Virginia or something.

All I can say is, THANK GOD YOU ARE MOVING TO DC, WOMAN.

Anyhoo, for anyone who enjoys some Always Sunny in their life… at least you’ll get this. No one at the bar did.

B and I went as “Charlie and the Waitress”…

Here’s what they look like:

And here’s us:

You like the hair? Apparently the Waitress has an 80′s mullet. At least I had the apron and coffee karafe going for me. And you can’t see it, but the shirt says “Philly has the best crack”.

Mom, aren’t you proud?

How about now?

Ahem. We also saw some other adventurous people out at the 4P’s in Cleveland Park… let me show you it.

Tobias Freaking Funke as a Nevernude!

Inspector Gadget FTW

The Bubble Boy!

Creepster McCreeperson McNoSeriously,ThisGuyWasTheCREEPIEST.

He wasn’t even wearing a costume… he just had on a silver mini skirt and HOVERED with a capital H around all the other groups of people having fun. Yanno, cause he was COMPLETELY ALONE. I wish you could have seen his face… to look into his eyes was to KNOW he has eaten a baby at some point in his life.

So all in all, a rousing success.

We’re getting back from Costa Rica tonight, so unless we didn’t pass Customs I will be back in action tomorrow. See y’all soon!

Mama said share.

Last week, my dear friend Marissa- who is in CHILE, mind you- took time out of her vacation to email me this, with the following message…

“Of all the people I know or e-know in the world, I thought of you and your blog when I first saw this.”

I have never, ever been so proud.

Mama said share.

For this “Shiz My Friends Say,” I will be highlighting the Gchats I’ve had recently with Miss Lemmonex and Miss (soon-to-be-Mrs.) Maxie. Mostly because we chat for 7.5 hours every work day, and when you have absolutely no lines you won’t cross, well… things get interesting. (Past SMFS here, past Shiz My Boyfriend Says here.)

Let me show you it.

me: On Friday 
   I am not leaving my couch for anything
   I’m going to set up a beer cooler and a bed pan
   Yell “It’s open!” to the delivery guy
   Not apologize for the lack of bra
   And just bask in it
Lexa: hahah
   please do
   you can twitter me and maxie
me: Oh I will
   I’ll twit pic the hell out of it
Lexa: just not the bed pan pls
me: Oh it’s gonna be there
    But I’ll try to keep it out of the pic
   Just for you
Lexa: thats friendship

Maxie: I can’t wait till you see my makeup
   My eyeliner is out of control
me: hahaha
   i haven’t shaved since wednesday morning
   my vag is out of control
   tmi?
Maxie: Haha never
   I cut my taint shaving last night
me: okay cavy

Lexa: my mom calls nipples ditters
   its weird
   i just thought of that
 me: HAHAHA
 Lexa: i remember being like 12
   when she said it
    i was wearing a white unitardy shirt
 me: it’s like a hoo-ha
 Lexa: lexa, i can see your ditters
 me: omg.
 Lexa: EWWW
 me: i just died. DIED.
 Lexa: i am loling
 me: hahahaha
 Lexa: dittterrrr
  AGH
 me: now i keep thinking of little mosquito bite nipples
   and then i feel like a pedophile
   THANKS LEX

Maxie: i just answered the phone and it was the governor
   random
 me: hahaha
 Maxie: i didn’t know they used phones
 me: i know
   don’t they have “people” for that
 Maxie: exactly
  he must be in the bathroom or something
 me: haha
  the kids don’t drop themselves off at the pool
  actually, he probably has people for that too
 Maxie: or he just gets a colonic every day
 me: exactly
  that way he doesn’t have to push
  and can play sudoku at the same time
 Maxie: i’d miss the pushing

me: http://steammeupkid.blogspot.com/2009/09/connecting-with-your-blog-readers-alt.html
  she is seriously one of my favorite funny bloggers
 Lexa: lemme look
   fuck you
   i loled
  you are gonna get my ass fired
 me: hahaha why
  oh
  “raped”
  right
 Lexa: ha
 me: details.

Happy Humpday, my lovelies. Consider this your public service announcement to not say “rape” at work.

Well, unless someone’s raping you.

Then I’m pretty sure it’s okay. You better check with HR.

Mama said share.