Wednesday, August 28, 2013

It's Wednesday, Ya'll!

Time for What the Hell Wednesday! As per usual, you crazy Knoxville kids have me either crying laughing with your antics or scratching my head in wonderment. Usually both.

pray a little harder next time, mantis! you are an ex-mantis, now! the mantis formerly known as "praying." evidently this little dude's praying was more along the lines of "studying for finals"  because he is squished and dead.

i reiterate - i have no idea who's leaving this shit on the stairs, BUT HERE'S A CLUE: whoever it is, their drink of choice is hurricane! i'm not sure what that actually is, but i have found bottles of it on multiple occasions on various and sundry steps. i'm guessing it's some sort of delightful  malt-based beverage. hold on, i'mma google it. ok i'm sorry i did that because now i'm hung over by just looking at those pictures and reading those reviews. beer advocate even gave it a poor rating. i need an alka-seltzer now please...

these ashtrays are outside of my building and someone repeatedly is pushing them over. WHY. a friend noted that i must not understand much about "testosterone" and "alcohol-fueled adrenaline" and "guys like to knock shit over when they're drunk" but whoever did this was vaguely remorseful because he obviously tried to put the sand BACK IN the ashtray which only reiterates the fact that he was indeed drunk because only someone besotted would touch nasty ashtray sand. this is not helping my hurricane-induced hangover, ya'll. 

Never change, Knoxville. Never change. You're delightfully weird. And I like that about you.

In normal people news, I recently paid an emergency visit to the maternity ward at St. Mary's hospital (to visit a friend - HAHAHA nice fake out, Ms. Venable!) While I was there, friend Kristi gave me the low down on her pregnancy and shared her fears and a few tears with me while her dead-to-the-world husband sacked out in the corner (he never even moved, poor thing). She was understandably upset and seemed to be fixated on not having gotten a pedicure in before the impending delivery "because she was going to be looking at her feet a lot over the next 48 hours," so I painted her nails and told her stories about adventures in dating to distract her, even for a few minutes. I consider the distraction a success because at the end of the pedicure and twenty minutes into horror stories she looked me in the eyes and said in earnest: "I wouldn't trade places with you for a million dollars." And I looked back at her, with a baby in her belly and hooked to every machine known to mankind, and said just as earnestly: "Me either." And then I don't know how we didn't wake up her poor husband because we both cracked up and we are loud on a good day.

And now, at last, with mama and baby safely through delivery, introducing:

RJ! welcome to the world, baby boy! may you have your daddy's good looks, your mama's sense of style and both of their skills as writers. (grammar is important, rj!)

Lastly, for those of you who have texted, called and/or visited to express your concern about/desire to ogle the mushrooms in my water closet, thank you. The harvest is now reaped and the fields sown with salt. And yes, I am a little sad about it.

i'm adding former mushroom farmer to my resume

UPDATED so this is now LASTLY, I was reading an article from NPR about additions to the Oxford dictionary when I came across a new entry. I am either offended because a new word accepted into their vernacular is MY WORD, that I MADE UP and I WANT CREDIT FOR or I went viral and didn't notice. Or... most likely I read it somewhere and just started using it. BUT DAMMIT I KNOW I HAD A RATIONALE and everything! I USED to say WHEEE all the time, but with the snake skin shed of old life I didn't want my go-to exclamation to be something from my past, so I DELIBERATELY changed it to:

squee. i had to force myself to stop saying 'whee' and insert 'squee!' instead.

If "can't-icle" and "blurgh" surface next year, I'm gonna be really pissy. Humph.

Over and out.

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