Hey Jeu's Guys

A friend of mine asked me to proof-read her college paper because let's face it; I am such a scholar and gentleman. The following conversation transpired. Let me preface by stating that my Spanish is very limited and I have no idea what we are saying to each other the majority of the time.

Jessica: Who is Amarillo? (referring to my computer's name which showed up as editing her paper)

Me:Amarillo from my understanding is the color yellow in Spanish. I didn't set up my lap top. If I had it would have been named Voldemort.

Jessica: All the Spanish I know is inappropriate. I know puta and cavrone.

Me: Isn't there a Puta Canta resort or something? I didn't know that was a bad word.

Jessica: I also know bedejo.

Me: Bedejo that must mean bedroom ejaculation.

Jessica: Kinda, Its like pussy   (not sure which word she is referring to)

Me: Punta Canta maybe that is it?

Jessica: Bendejo

Me: oh a bent ejaculation. Like has a bendy trajectory.

Jessica: juevos

Me: like Juevos ranchero? I don't know what that is but I thought it was food.

Jessica: it means balls so jeu's rancheros is eggs (balls) so a nut sack is referred to as jeu's as well context is important with this one. Pince me jeu's is not a nice request fyi.

Me: is Jeu's pronounced like Jews because I am going to have to be careful when I ask for juice or when I say, "hey jeus guys," like I do. People will be like balls guys?

Jessica: apparently my computer does not like the word juevos. I am glad no one can hear me right now.

Me: Slash read this horrible conversation. Or should I call it a ballsy conversation.

Jessica: You should tell Justin we had an entire conversation about balls

Me: He would probably not be surprised.

Dumbburn

Remember that time like a million years ago where I burned some new socks onto my legs? I say a million years ago because as a smart, health-conscious individual I do not jeopardize the whole skin cancer business. 

So unfortunately since it has been SO long since my last sunburn I had a moment of dumb fuckery where I found myself sunburned again. I was wearing sunglasses so I look like... Well; I look... 

Yeah. No Bueno. Justin's taken to calling me Rudolph. I tried my hardest to remedy the situation by fashioning myself a wrap which only showed my eyes in an effort to match them to the rest of my face. I really wanted to buy a ski mask but after a few internet searches I realized only a certain demographic of people purchase ski masks at this time of year. I feared if I ordered one online the government would tap my online orders and reprimand me for all of the Harry Potter stuff I buy. So behold my work of art:

Justin chased me around the house for about ten minutes trying to get a piece. He claims he really likes how mysterious I look. I think he finally realized I'm more attractive when I have a paper bag or the like over my head. 

I'm in the market for a burka now. I feel like if I wore it around the house I could get Justin to do all the chores and quite possibly bake me cakes and pies. If I wear it in town and people try to be jerks I can say; "is it because I'm white?" And storm off. I've been getting kind of anxious lately and had this idea that maybe if I covered my face with my hair and wore glasses over it (think Cousin It) I could slide under the radar in public, but a burka may be a better option. I wonder if they make one with Voldemort on it. 

Walk a Day in My Pants

The other day I went into Hastings to rent a couple movies. I was planning to have a girl's day with a friend and then an in-home date night with my main squeeze. 

I was dressed in my fashionable new Hogwarts jogger sweatpants. The person in front of me in line wanted to buy like 12 Elmo shows that she thought she could use a coupon for, and it took like 15 minutes for the associate to explain that she couldn't.  

I tried to prepare as best I could to be 100% ready when she finally surrendered in her Sesame Street battle. I fumbled around in my purse for the keychain sized Hastings rental card which I never find unless I'm not looking for it. So I opted to get my ID out and have it available straight away for the associate. He apologized for the long wait, complimented my awesome threads (Hogwarts pants), and then took my ID. 

I vaguely noticed him pull my ID away from another card. I assumed it was a coffee punch card because I get a new one every time I go to get coffee because I can never find a punch card for the right place and I always feel like I'm cheating on whatever coffee place I'm going to if the catch a glimpse of a competitors' card. And baristas hate me already because I usually order a small iced decaf soy latte with hazelnut and vanilla. 

Anyway he handed my cards back and I said what card did I give you and pulled my ID away to reveal this:

I immediately turned red and said oh I was trying to give you a coupon for free panties. He laughed it off like it was no big deal and the guy behind me was laughing too. I was like awesome you tell me you like my pants and I pretty much invite you into my business. Ugh. And my coupon is expired because it was lost in my 30,000 coffee punch cards and I totally forgot I had it. So I didn't even get free panties. Panties. That's such a gross word. 

Don't sell your oats

I eat oatmeal for breakfast. So shoot me because Justin wants to. I guess it really isn't the fact that I eat oatmeal, but rather what I do with the container after I've "finished."

Sometimes I have like ninety things to carry downstairs when we are getting ready to leave in the morning. Like my book, or my phone. I just don't have enough room in my hands to grab the oatmeal container. Sometimes it gets left on Justin's side of the bed. Only sometimes though; like just every work day. 

Anyway last night I was exhausted when I climbed into bed, and I realized I'd left the oatmeal container on his side of the bed. I picked up the bowl then realized that the spoon was missing. I started feeling around in the dark and eventually my fingers closed around the handle. I pulled and with the spoon came Justin's favorite blanket. I was like whaaa??? 

Apparently the spoon had somehow dislodged from the container and still had oatmeal debris on it when did. Totally not my fault. I blame in on the lumpy side of Justin's bed. The oatmeal turned into superglue as it hardened and affixed itself permanently to Justin's blanket. I was eventually able to pull the spoon off because I have big muscles, and like the Dalai Lama says; "Nothing is permanent." I felt around and felt globs of oatmeal hardened on the blanket. 

I was so tired that I actually fell asleep trying to decide what to do about the chunky blanket. I didn't hear anything this morning about it so I think we are in the clear. I'll just wash the blanket and then the oatmeal should soften in the washer. Hey I'll even get second breakfast once the cycle is complete. The oatmeal should neatly pile up at the bottom of the washer basin and be perfect oatmeal consistency. And it'll be clean because it was just washed. Duh. 

I found these and I think Justin and I need them for our wedding and our honeymoon. Obviously I can eat cake with it and then use it to spank him later on.  Yup. 

Pizza tri-fecta

I can have hand tossed pizza from Pizza Hut sans the cheese and crust dust. Because I am always eating and rarely wanting to cook with as much work as I've been doing Justin and I probably get pizza about two times a month. We usually try to trick each other into being the one to suggest getting pizza since it is rather spendy ($15 I guess isn't the end of the world but twice a month for 12 months adds up possibly to $360 but that just doesn't make sense to my fatigued brain because that means pizza costs me a dollar a day. Huh.) anyway obviously our $ comes to the same place so really the argument is more about who is more of a pig I think. 

Last time we got pizza I ordered it because I tend to break like a hostage when it comes to food being wafted before me. I gave Justin a sideways glance once I realized the estimated arrival time was 1.5 hours. I fielded many questions about our pizza and if it was ever coming. Finally it did, and when it did mine had crust dust in it which contains dairy. 

I got to call, wait on hold for ten minutes, talk to someone about crust dust for five minutes, and wait another hour for two new pizzas to be delivered. I was thrilled. Except when I opened them one had fucking crust dust. I was like I'm going to steal all your crust dust you bastards. Except I'm super scared to stand up for myself so really I just watched while crouched in a shadowy corner with my one precious pizza as Justin got three pizzas, and I've been jealous ever since. 

Also here is a cat. 

Rocking the Knee High Socks

We have this RV parking spot in the back yard, or had rather. Historically it was filled with weeds and loads of spiders and rocks. This summer Justin decided to manicure the area. 

He and his dad have done the bulk of the work. Raking the weeds up, removing debris, starting to put down the weed barrier paper, eating Los Betos together etc. I helped a bit with the laying of the weed barrier. That was a mistake because Justin figured out I'm actually good at doing manual labor. Now I'm pretty sure he wants to he wants me to enter a lumberjack contest. Anyway I figured out I need to plan my outfit better when spending hours outside so it doesn't constantly look like I'm wearing knee high socks for the rest of the summer. 

The following weekend I won myself the position of rock washer after my expertise weed paper skills were discovered. Justin decided he wanted to take all of the rocks which had been raked up with the weeds, and rinse each individual stone then place it on top of the weed barrier. No; I'm not kidding. 

Me after one rock: it's so sunny out and I can finally fix my tan lines. 

After five rocks: well I venture to guess I'll be out here for like twenty four more years with how tedious this job is... guess I'll have plenty of time to fix my tan. 

After 100 rocks: there has to be another way to do this this is taking forever and I've covered like three square inches of space in this fucking huge RV spot. 

Justin: do whatever you think would help

I tried using the kitchen strainer, using buckets, using a wheel barrel etc nothing was working quickly 

Justin: there is still a lot of weed debris in with the rocks. Is this your clean pile? (He was pointing to the clean pile I'd worked on for over an hour)

Me: Yes, idiot. I can't believe you thought this was a good idea. 

 (Editing note: sorry Justin you definitely are not an idiot)

Justin: I'll help you. 

Ten minutes elapses... Or maybe another two hours there is no telling really. We both lie down on the weed barrier in defeat. 

Justin: this is really dumb. I'll have my dad come help tomorrow he'll know what to do. 

Me: Yeah okay. Sorry I called you an idiot. 

Tomorrow came and Justin and his dad determined that it was, after all, a bad idea to pursue cleaning off each individual rock. So long story short sometime next week we'll be getting new rocks. Hopefully they don't come with weeds in them. As for those I already cleaned they are in the backyard right where I left them probably collecting more weeds and debris. 

Like how are there not going to be weeds and dirt in there with the new rocks anyway? We should just get plastic rocks like you'd find at the bottom of a fish tank. Even then I'm sure that weeds will eventually blow into the area. Ugh adulting is annoying. 

Mercutio's Mirror

My friend Jessica got me this Hogwarts acceptance letter. It has been framed and sitting on my coffee table for some time. Justin and I are waiting for the stairwell to finish painting itself before we hang things up. 

The stairwell is taking forever and a day to get its shit together so I finally decided to move my letter to a better spot for safekeeping. Tragedy struck as I was fixated on the letter while I started walking out of the room. I had it held out in this way I used to hold a big mirror when I played this game ages ago in my youth. I would watch the ceiling in the mirror as I walked instead of watching the floor. Essentially the reflection of the ceiling was right in my path like a weird fun house. It was entertaining except for that time I fell down the stairs.  For a second with my letter it was kind of like I was playing that game again except I could only see a faint reflection in the glass of the frame. I was trying to focus on the reflection when I ran right into the wall and the corner of the frame impaled me and it was like, "Hogwarts was inside me!"

Damn it universe I want to go inside Hogwarts; not the other way around. I hobbled away in shock and put the framed letter in the pile of other things which will be hung eventually. In the meantime Justin came upstairs and yelled at me. 

Justin: Why are you laying on the floor?

Me: I've been impaled

Justin: What?? are you okay?

Me: No Hogwarts tried to kill me. 

I explained the situation, possibly leaving out the part about the game I played in my youth, and Justin asked to see the damage. I picked up my shirt and showed him gaping wound. 

Justin: That scratch? That is what you are worried about?

Me: a scratch; "ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man!"

Okay seriously like seven tomorrow's have come and I am still here. But I do still have a scab from Hogwarts. And for what it's worth I really do think I could play Mercutio almost as good as this guy.