(1:17 PM) Christine: um, you know what though?
(1:17 PM) Christine: i kinda don't think i'm gonna live much past 40
(1:17 PM) Christine: and that maybe i shouldn't get married or have any kids
(1:18 PM) Christine: like maybe i should just go on dangerous human trafficking stings in 3rd world countries
(1:18 PM) Amanda: i think you have to have experience for that?
(1:18 PM) Christine: and that way if i die, like yeah my parents would be sad, but i wouldn't be leaving a husband or kids behind
(1:18 PM) Christine : no it's fine
(1:19 PM) Christine: just a bad ass attitude.
(1:19 PM) Christine: check.
(1:19 PM) Amanda: but you'd be leaving a lobster behind! did that ever occur to you?? inconsiderate hussy!
(1:20 PM) Christine: did you just call me an inconsiderate hussy?
(1:20 PM) Amanda: no.
(1:20 PM) Christine: um. yes you did.
(1:20 PM) Amanda: what?
(1:20 PM) Amanda: when?
(1:20 PM) Christine: (1:19 PM) Amanda: but you'd be leaving a lobster behind! did that ever occur to you?? inconsiderate hussy!
(1:20 PM) Christine: at 1:19
(1:21 PM) Amanda : (1:19 PM) Amanda: but you'd be leaving a lobster behind! did that ever occur to you?? beautiful lady!
(1:21 PM) Amanda: are we looking at the same thing?
(1:22 PM) Christine: let me tell you something sweet pea, i'm not inconsiderate, but this beautiful lady isn't afraid to break into your sub basement condo and shank you in your sleep.
(1:22 PM) Christine: p.s. lol
(1:22 PM) Christine: you're dumb
(1:22 PM) Amanda: oh what was that, i was asleep SAFELY in my sub basement condo.
(1:22 PM) Amanda: ps i am laughing in here.
(1:22 PM) Christine: hahahaha
(1:22 PM) Christine: whilst itching your rogue ball
(1:23 PM) Christine: hahahahahahahahahahahahaha
(1:23 PM) Amanda: ugh. so sick.
(1:23 PM) Christine: the spies are gonna think you're a herm
(1:23 PM) Amanda: rogue. cause its floating. in my cervix.
(1:23 PM) Christine: sick
(1:23 PM) Christine: no, it's just floating in your abdomen and you have to push it down so it stays underneath your beltline
(1:23 PM) Amanda: like an ulcer...?
(1:23 PM) Amanda: but with balls...
(1:24 PM) Christine: you mean a hernia?
(1:24 PM) Amanda: oh. yes.
(1:24 PM) Christine: hahahaha
(1:24 PM) Christine: kinda
(1:24 PM) Amanda: i did mean that.
(1:24 PM) Christine: but a hernia usually stays in one place
(1:24 PM) Amanda: but pokes out.
(1:24 PM) Amanda: so hernias aren't... rogue... is that what you're saying.
(1:24 PM) Christine: exactly
(1:25 PM) Amanda: huh. you learn something new every day.
(1:25 PM) Christine : see, this is why i need to be in medicine
(1:25 PM) Christine: love this seanvote
(1:26 PM) Amanda: you do! you'd be good at it. you could be like that crazy eyed elbow dr but with nicer hair. and more hair.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
theme songs
Last night, Amanda and I were carrying some stuff to my car and my phone was in my pocket, blaring Pandora, when this exchange took place:
me: That one night I went out with WB, his phone kept playing music and he wouldn't notice until I said something.
Amanda: How could he not notice?
me: I don't know, I guess he just thought it was like a soundtrack to his life or something.
Amanda: Why, was his phone playing "Who Let the Dogs Out?"
me: That one night I went out with WB, his phone kept playing music and he wouldn't notice until I said something.
Amanda: How could he not notice?
me: I don't know, I guess he just thought it was like a soundtrack to his life or something.
Amanda: Why, was his phone playing "Who Let the Dogs Out?"
Monday, November 8, 2010
Text Conversation From the Weekend
Miss Amanda decided to go out of town this weekend and leave me on my own. I was all hopped up on Lady Gaga and caffeine when I decided to go out on Friday night. The following is extracted from the text conversation she and I had:
7:45 pm Me (before I went out): The entire apartment smells like chocolate and it's weirding me out!
10:47 pm Amanda (hours later- she took her sweet time writing me back): Chocolate? Why???
10:47 pm Me: I have * timor (this is supposed to say "i have a tumor", obviously.)
10:48 pm Amanda: Oh...I see...
10:50 pm Me: I'm tips
10:51 pm Amanda: You don't say...
10:56 pm Me: 11s3
10:56 pm Amanda: 143!!! (which is what i was TRYING to say...)
11:05 pm Me: Onje four therwe
11:06 pm Amanda: Let's stick to numerical signs. Lobster!
11:07 pm Me: Let's stick to looooooooovvvvvvveeeeee!!!! (suddenly coherent?)
11:07 pm Amanda: You love me!!!!
11:08 pm Me: I wanna marry your sweet ass! (wow, full sentence!)
11:09 pm Amanda: Well, you haven't asked me!
11:10 pm Me: Whstecvert (aaaaaaaaand, we're back.)
7:45 pm Me (before I went out): The entire apartment smells like chocolate and it's weirding me out!
10:47 pm Amanda (hours later- she took her sweet time writing me back): Chocolate? Why???
10:47 pm Me: I have * timor (this is supposed to say "i have a tumor", obviously.)
10:48 pm Amanda: Oh...I see...
10:50 pm Me: I'm tips
10:51 pm Amanda: You don't say...
10:56 pm Me: 11s3
10:56 pm Amanda: 143!!! (which is what i was TRYING to say...)
11:05 pm Me: Onje four therwe
11:06 pm Amanda: Let's stick to numerical signs. Lobster!
11:07 pm Me: Let's stick to looooooooovvvvvvveeeeee!!!! (suddenly coherent?)
11:07 pm Amanda: You love me!!!!
11:08 pm Me: I wanna marry your sweet ass! (wow, full sentence!)
11:09 pm Amanda: Well, you haven't asked me!
11:10 pm Me: Whstecvert (aaaaaaaaand, we're back.)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
A Little Clearing Things up
As Amanda mentioned before, we live together and work together. Now, since we blog together, I guess that makes us triple co-bloggers, or something... either way, we often operate in the same plane of thought (train of thought??? why has the English language suddenly escaped me?), which makes her a great friend and just banter-buddy in general.
Amanda has been kind enough to describe the Ninja Mission on which we embarked, and subsequently, this has left me with a sour taste in my mouth regarding WB. It was, however, one of the most fun Monday nights I've had in a long time, and we have learned that our bladders (namely Amanda's) do not sustain adrenalin situations very well.
Sooooooooooo, since we work together and WB works here as well, there is generally ample opportunity to joke about him. Sometimes, we try to keep track of funny things that happen to us throughout our work day so we can blog about them later. I have a little note on my phone entitled "sorority" (speaking of which, have we explained the name of this blog?? Another time, stay focused) and I was reading them off to Amanda the other day and they consisted of the following:
- WB's lame hair
- starting a blog called wbhowihatetheeletmecounttheways.blogspot.com and posting a pic of WB's dumb hair (but I will spare you because I don't want anyone to commit suicide over how ridiculous his hair has been lately. Tragic though, really)
- amber thinks she's from the future
- ninja mission
- Amanda and I fantasizing about quitting our jobs Jerry McGuire style
- me throwing a hawaiian girl at WB's face
- Amanda Pee Pants (this is actually seperate from the ninja mission bladder issues)
- Amanda started a rumor that I have a lazy eye
- Riki Tiki Timbo
Since Amanda has already been kind enough to describe our ninja mission, I'm going to go ahead and try to tackle WB's hair- which could be an entire post itself, but I'll try to keep it short (I wish WB would do the same- heyo!)
Basically, Senor Work Boyfriend came back from Hawaii with a freakishly dark tan and his locks all aglazed. Amanda put it best when she said, "Under no circumstances should one slick one's hair in any way." And yet, he continues to do so. He has this thick, dark, wavy-ish hair, so because he's slicking it back, it's kinda starting to do this Johnny Bravo thing:
So, there's that.
When I suggested we start a blog called wbhowihatetheeletmecounttheways.blogspot.com, Amanda offered to covertly take a picture of his hair and post it, but I had to draw the line somewhere, readers, because I care about you and I don't want to find out that you had cannonballed off an overpass or slit your wrists in the bathtub. You're welcome.
Honestly? It's kind of never-ending. I was sorting through packages with Amanda and WB had received a small package from a Financial Company and I scoffed and dropped it with the other packages while Amanda shook her head in disgust and said, "It's probably a whore." Man, I love her. This, in turn, reminded me that WB got a present for me in Hawaii, but he hasn't given it to me. I said, "I really hope WB gives me that gift so I can chuck it back in his face and tell him to save his money so he can buy himself a clue!" (For some reason, I find this to be an incredibly cutting insult because I heard a girl say that to this rich girl we went to high school with and I remember sitting in pre-calc and sucking in air really quickly like 'oooh, buuuuurrrn!') Amanda was like, "You know he got you a thong or a threesome or something." And then we discussed how awkward, yet satisfying it would be to throw a Hawaiian girl right at his face.
Amanda has been kind enough to describe the Ninja Mission on which we embarked, and subsequently, this has left me with a sour taste in my mouth regarding WB. It was, however, one of the most fun Monday nights I've had in a long time, and we have learned that our bladders (namely Amanda's) do not sustain adrenalin situations very well.
Sooooooooooo, since we work together and WB works here as well, there is generally ample opportunity to joke about him. Sometimes, we try to keep track of funny things that happen to us throughout our work day so we can blog about them later. I have a little note on my phone entitled "sorority" (speaking of which, have we explained the name of this blog?? Another time, stay focused) and I was reading them off to Amanda the other day and they consisted of the following:
- WB's lame hair
- starting a blog called wbhowihatetheeletmecounttheways.blogspot.com and posting a pic of WB's dumb hair (but I will spare you because I don't want anyone to commit suicide over how ridiculous his hair has been lately. Tragic though, really)
- amber thinks she's from the future
- ninja mission
- Amanda and I fantasizing about quitting our jobs Jerry McGuire style
- me throwing a hawaiian girl at WB's face
- Amanda Pee Pants (this is actually seperate from the ninja mission bladder issues)
- Amanda started a rumor that I have a lazy eye
- Riki Tiki Timbo
Since Amanda has already been kind enough to describe our ninja mission, I'm going to go ahead and try to tackle WB's hair- which could be an entire post itself, but I'll try to keep it short (I wish WB would do the same- heyo!)
Basically, Senor Work Boyfriend came back from Hawaii with a freakishly dark tan and his locks all aglazed. Amanda put it best when she said, "Under no circumstances should one slick one's hair in any way." And yet, he continues to do so. He has this thick, dark, wavy-ish hair, so because he's slicking it back, it's kinda starting to do this Johnny Bravo thing:
So, there's that.
When I suggested we start a blog called wbhowihatetheeletmecounttheways.blogspot.com, Amanda offered to covertly take a picture of his hair and post it, but I had to draw the line somewhere, readers, because I care about you and I don't want to find out that you had cannonballed off an overpass or slit your wrists in the bathtub. You're welcome.
Honestly? It's kind of never-ending. I was sorting through packages with Amanda and WB had received a small package from a Financial Company and I scoffed and dropped it with the other packages while Amanda shook her head in disgust and said, "It's probably a whore." Man, I love her. This, in turn, reminded me that WB got a present for me in Hawaii, but he hasn't given it to me. I said, "I really hope WB gives me that gift so I can chuck it back in his face and tell him to save his money so he can buy himself a clue!" (For some reason, I find this to be an incredibly cutting insult because I heard a girl say that to this rich girl we went to high school with and I remember sitting in pre-calc and sucking in air really quickly like 'oooh, buuuuurrrn!') Amanda was like, "You know he got you a thong or a threesome or something." And then we discussed how awkward, yet satisfying it would be to throw a Hawaiian girl right at his face.
Friday, August 27, 2010
I'm going to name my kids Ashley and Whitney. No I'm not. That's disgusting.
I love THIS!!!!!
Now. On to other news.
So.... Christine and I recently delighted in what can only be called a NINJA MISSION.
Backstory: Soooo.... Christine's WB (work boyfriend) was in Hawaii on extended vacation. When in Rome, you know. While away he texted Christine every day all "Ohhh I can't wait to see you," "I got you this great present," "Schmoozey schmoozey," "I'm oozing with charm and suave wit." So Christine was like "yeah I think I MIGHT go to WB's tonight, maybe, maybe not" but it was obvious that homegirl had somewhat planned to go to his house. However, when he got back he mysterioussssssly had other things "planned" and couldn't hang out. I don't buy it, ya slick haired weasel. And I said as much.
Christine: I wish we could like see what he's really doing.
Me: Uhhh we can.
Christine: ???
Me: Yeah. We go to his house. Put some feelers out. See whats up...
Christine: Are you inferring that we STALK him?
Me: I'm inferring that we...go for a drive, make some turns, see where life takes us. In secret.
Christine: Isn't that a little psycho?
Me: I don't see where this is going. Are we going or not?
Christine: Obviously.
So. We naturally immediately dressed in all black. And got her camera with the zoomy lens thing. We hopped on the freeway, blasting Paramore, trying to talk over it... Of course. Christine was emphatic, emphatic I tell you, that we wouldn't find anything. "This is silly. He is probably asleep. He probably hasn't texted me because he's so busy being a standup guy that it just slipped his mind that we had plans to hang out tonight." Yeah. And cats are good pets, Christine. As we were nearing his house, I started getting antsy. I was straight cracked out. On excitement and suspense of it all.
Me: What if he comes outside??
Chrsitine: Act like you lost your dog!
Me: He knows me!!
Christine: Well say he has fast legs and loves the mountain air.
Me: Ok. But I'm gonna pee.
Christine: Where??
Me: Right here!! Pull over!! I'm leaking!!
So, Christine OF COURSE doesn't pull over so I can take care of the bladder issue. Something about it being illegal. Whatever. It was pitch black. I don't even think a cop can fault a girl for needing to go when she needs to go. It's science. Yeah so I'm on the verge of bursting... but I think Christine would say the point is that when we drove by his house there was a car in the driveway!! Not HIS car. A girl car. Yes. A car that no self-respecting male would drive. At first I thought it made sense that it was WB's car but my roomie assured me its not his. Well. That has yet to be proven. But anyway. We park a reasonable distance away, down the street and on the other side of course. Next, we take some quick breathers and I try my luck again at getting the go ahead to pee on the neighbor's grass. But alas, she is still opposed. You know how when you play hide and seek and the moment you find the most deluxe hiding spot a girl can dream of, you have to pee! It's like some sort of switch your brain flips to mess with you at the most inopportune moment. That's messed up man. For cereal. Yeah so we get out of the car and sneak, ever sooooo slowly and gingerly to his front yard. Like we're literally in his front yard, 20 feet from his bedroom window. I felt fine about it but Christine was a bit jumpy. We decide to look in the car just to confirm someone's suspicions about it being a female's car. But dang it. We didn't bring a flashlight!! How could we forget that!! After I had sidled up along the car like I'm totally Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. I'm in his front yard for hecks sake and I have no flashlight? What kind of ninjas are we. Ninjas always have flashlights. But really. What would we have done with flashlights? We were laughing too hard to hold them steady anyway. I think we would have put on some sort of attention drawing light show before we actually found out anything.
Needless to say, we didn't find out any juicy info from the car. But we were lead to infer that the car belonged to a ladyfriend of WB's and thats fine. Just as we suspected. Juuuuuuuust as we suspected. Uh huh. UH. HUH.
I can't wait for another opportunity to be a ninja. I love my black pants. I think they sell those bright colored flashlights at Sev too. Score.
Thus begins the saga of a mutual hate, if you will, of WB.
Now. On to other news.
So.... Christine and I recently delighted in what can only be called a NINJA MISSION.
Backstory: Soooo.... Christine's WB (work boyfriend) was in Hawaii on extended vacation. When in Rome, you know. While away he texted Christine every day all "Ohhh I can't wait to see you," "I got you this great present," "Schmoozey schmoozey," "I'm oozing with charm and suave wit." So Christine was like "yeah I think I MIGHT go to WB's tonight, maybe, maybe not" but it was obvious that homegirl had somewhat planned to go to his house. However, when he got back he mysterioussssssly had other things "planned" and couldn't hang out. I don't buy it, ya slick haired weasel. And I said as much.
Christine: I wish we could like see what he's really doing.
Me: Uhhh we can.
Christine: ???
Me: Yeah. We go to his house. Put some feelers out. See whats up...
Christine: Are you inferring that we STALK him?
Me: I'm inferring that we...go for a drive, make some turns, see where life takes us. In secret.
Christine: Isn't that a little psycho?
Me: I don't see where this is going. Are we going or not?
Christine: Obviously.
So. We naturally immediately dressed in all black. And got her camera with the zoomy lens thing. We hopped on the freeway, blasting Paramore, trying to talk over it... Of course. Christine was emphatic, emphatic I tell you, that we wouldn't find anything. "This is silly. He is probably asleep. He probably hasn't texted me because he's so busy being a standup guy that it just slipped his mind that we had plans to hang out tonight." Yeah. And cats are good pets, Christine. As we were nearing his house, I started getting antsy. I was straight cracked out. On excitement and suspense of it all.
Me: What if he comes outside??
Chrsitine: Act like you lost your dog!
Me: He knows me!!
Christine: Well say he has fast legs and loves the mountain air.
Me: Ok. But I'm gonna pee.
Christine: Where??
Me: Right here!! Pull over!! I'm leaking!!
So, Christine OF COURSE doesn't pull over so I can take care of the bladder issue. Something about it being illegal. Whatever. It was pitch black. I don't even think a cop can fault a girl for needing to go when she needs to go. It's science. Yeah so I'm on the verge of bursting... but I think Christine would say the point is that when we drove by his house there was a car in the driveway!! Not HIS car. A girl car. Yes. A car that no self-respecting male would drive. At first I thought it made sense that it was WB's car but my roomie assured me its not his. Well. That has yet to be proven. But anyway. We park a reasonable distance away, down the street and on the other side of course. Next, we take some quick breathers and I try my luck again at getting the go ahead to pee on the neighbor's grass. But alas, she is still opposed. You know how when you play hide and seek and the moment you find the most deluxe hiding spot a girl can dream of, you have to pee! It's like some sort of switch your brain flips to mess with you at the most inopportune moment. That's messed up man. For cereal. Yeah so we get out of the car and sneak, ever sooooo slowly and gingerly to his front yard. Like we're literally in his front yard, 20 feet from his bedroom window. I felt fine about it but Christine was a bit jumpy. We decide to look in the car just to confirm someone's suspicions about it being a female's car. But dang it. We didn't bring a flashlight!! How could we forget that!! After I had sidled up along the car like I'm totally Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. I'm in his front yard for hecks sake and I have no flashlight? What kind of ninjas are we. Ninjas always have flashlights. But really. What would we have done with flashlights? We were laughing too hard to hold them steady anyway. I think we would have put on some sort of attention drawing light show before we actually found out anything.
Needless to say, we didn't find out any juicy info from the car. But we were lead to infer that the car belonged to a ladyfriend of WB's and thats fine. Just as we suspected. Juuuuuuuust as we suspected. Uh huh. UH. HUH.
I can't wait for another opportunity to be a ninja. I love my black pants. I think they sell those bright colored flashlights at Sev too. Score.
Thus begins the saga of a mutual hate, if you will, of WB.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I'll do my best Velociraptor impression
Conversations Amanda and I had today, at work, in passing:
Christine: Hey, let's create online personas and become youtube sensations
Amanda: K, but I wanna be a rapper.
Christine: No, I was gonna be a rapper.
Amanda: I'm not doing it unless I can be a rapper.
Christine: FINE. I'll be a wacky German.
----------------------------
This is while we were discussing which clients we would choose as boyfriends based on varying characteristics, ie. bald, voluntarily bald, mormon, fed-ex guy, etc.
Christine: Okay, but can you actually imagine breaking up a happy home?
Amanda: Ugh. NO. I'm busy, I got things to do. Hustlers gotta hustle.
Christine: Word. But seriously! I don't care who it is- that's just wrong. Even if it was Brad Pitt. I'd be like "No, Brad. No. Cut it out with your persistent kisses and kindly remove yourself from my penthouse loft with bamboo flooring."
Amanda: Oooh, bamboo! Very nice!
Christine: Hey, let's create online personas and become youtube sensations
Amanda: K, but I wanna be a rapper.
Christine: No, I was gonna be a rapper.
Amanda: I'm not doing it unless I can be a rapper.
Christine: FINE. I'll be a wacky German.
----------------------------
This is while we were discussing which clients we would choose as boyfriends based on varying characteristics, ie. bald, voluntarily bald, mormon, fed-ex guy, etc.
Christine: Okay, but can you actually imagine breaking up a happy home?
Amanda: Ugh. NO. I'm busy, I got things to do. Hustlers gotta hustle.
Christine: Word. But seriously! I don't care who it is- that's just wrong. Even if it was Brad Pitt. I'd be like "No, Brad. No. Cut it out with your persistent kisses and kindly remove yourself from my penthouse loft with bamboo flooring."
Amanda: Oooh, bamboo! Very nice!
Friday, August 6, 2010
Oh Thursday night, you Saucey Wench
Actual Conversation Amanda and I had yesterday:
Me: Are you gonna give blood at the blood drive tomorrow?
Amanda: Helllllll no, are you?
Me: Of course! The world needs blood. You should too.
Amanda: No way. I'll pass out. I'll freak out. I'll start hyperventilating.
Me: What if you're a rare blood type?
Amanda: I don't give a seanvote.
Me: Well, they're giving away a flat screen TV and we could really use one! Come on, come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon.
Amanda: No. Case closed.
Me: SIIIIIIIIIGH. Fine, I'll just have to donate my life-giving blood twice. I'll be saving widows and orphans if you need me...
Actual Conversation Amanda and I had this morning:
Amanda: So, you giving blood today or what?
Me: Nah.
Amanda: Ohhhhh? Why not, you were all about it yesterday.
Me: Was I? That doesn't sound like me.
Amanda: yessssssssssssss, so why no blood now?
Me: wellllllllllllllll... I just don't think my blood would be any good today.
Amanda: What do you mean?
Me: I just don't want to have to ask the phlebotomist if it's cool to give blood when I did 4 shots of tequila and had 3 beers last night.
Amanda: Good call.
Me: Are you gonna give blood at the blood drive tomorrow?
Amanda: Helllllll no, are you?
Me: Of course! The world needs blood. You should too.
Amanda: No way. I'll pass out. I'll freak out. I'll start hyperventilating.
Me: What if you're a rare blood type?
Amanda: I don't give a seanvote.
Me: Well, they're giving away a flat screen TV and we could really use one! Come on, come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon.
Amanda: No. Case closed.
Me: SIIIIIIIIIGH. Fine, I'll just have to donate my life-giving blood twice. I'll be saving widows and orphans if you need me...
Actual Conversation Amanda and I had this morning:
Amanda: So, you giving blood today or what?
Me: Nah.
Amanda: Ohhhhh? Why not, you were all about it yesterday.
Me: Was I? That doesn't sound like me.
Amanda: yessssssssssssss, so why no blood now?
Me: wellllllllllllllll... I just don't think my blood would be any good today.
Amanda: What do you mean?
Me: I just don't want to have to ask the phlebotomist if it's cool to give blood when I did 4 shots of tequila and had 3 beers last night.
Amanda: Good call.
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