“I will be combining my two life’s passions: Irish dancing and Chinese calligraphy.” Hahahahaha.
PS: I love Bill Hader.
PPS: Holy moly, that Harry Potter is wee! He missed his calling as a hobbit!
I love this whole sketch.
Protected: maybe church, the end pt. 20: letters and what happened when we wrote them
where i am romanced
BANSHEE BOY: Tee Tee! Tee Tee!!! Watch me to prube my lub for you by eading dis yummy red ball!!!
You know, in college, this dude serenaded me in the dining hall in front of everyone. It was nice, but come on. It’s no red ball, now is it?
you naughty minxes
I’m telling you, this post gets more hits than any other post I’ve written.
LOTSA people secretly wondering about sex in heaven, pippa. I find it fascinating — all the Googling going on about this that eventually brings them here.
Some great newer comments over there, too. Go check it out, ya drunken slatterns.
Protected: maybe church, the end pt. 19: the second sunday after (b)
Protected: maybe church, the end pt. 18: the second sunday after
the best-dressed fella at christmas
I tell you, pippa, I walked in the door to my brother’s house on Christmas Eve, took a gander at Banshee Boy, and burst out laughing.
He was wearing a sweater vest. A red sweater vest. A red sweater vest with an insignia. Good Lord.
Helloooo, ladies.
holiday snippets
Discussing a character flaw of mine.
HE: Despite all the ways I love you, there are some things you suck at and this is one of them.
ME: Hahahahahahahaha.
____________________
Entering the house after movie date pajama day. My brother is blasting Christmas music.
ORIGINAL BANSHEE (with a little eye roll): Dad really likes Robert Goulet, Tee Tee.
ME: I know, honey.
OB (confessing): But I kinda like him, too.
ME: It’s okay. I do, too.
____________________
Banshee Girl telling me about a movie she saw.
BG: Tee Tee, dere was dis board in da movie and he ….
ME: Wait. Did you say boy?
BG: No, Tee Tee. A board.
ME (really not understanding her): A bull??
BG: No! Tee Tee! A BOARD (flapping her arms like a bird).
ME: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, a board.
____________________
Thanks to a slow and steady process of early indoctrination, Original Banshee (who is 7) thinks she wants to go to college at her parents’/grandparents’ alma mater. My sister went there as well. I’m the family lone ranger who did NOT go there which is part of why I’m so neato.
ME: Yeah. They don’t have a theatre major there because that would be too secular. They have a theatre support group.
MB: What’s that?
ME: Like a bunch of students getting together and “helping” each other with theatre a couple of times a week.
MB: Oh. How strange.
ME: I know. Like it’s AA for theatre or something. It totally bugs me. Original Banshee is not going to college there. I don’t care what I have to do.
____________________
I am deeply immature. To really understand me, you need to be 7.
ME: OB, that’s cool what you can do with your toe. I can’t do that. It’s like a super power.
OB: Yeah!
ME: Next year when other kids trick or treat at your door, just do that trick for them and save yourself some treats.
OB: What? I can DO that??
ME: Well, it’s trick OR treat, right?
OB: Yeah.
ME: And that’s a pretty cool trick.
OB: Yeah, but it’s not candy, Tee Tee.
ME: Sweetie, that’s way better than candy. You are Super Toe.
OB: Super Toe (giggling).
ME: We’ll make you a cape with a giant toe on it.
OB: (Giggling even harder)
ME: Or you could wear a headpiece that looks like a giant toe with your face peeking out of the toenail part.
OB: (She cannot breathe.) Tee Teeeeeee!! (gasp … gasp) But what is my super power?
ME: The toe trick.
OB: The toe trick?
ME: Yes. And smelliness, of course.
OB: (Nearly falling off sofa) Smelliness!!!! Hahahahahahahaha!!! Tee Teeeeeeee!!!
ME: You defeat all your enemies with Super Toe smelliness.
OB: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!
____________________
Favorite email line of the holidays, no context:
“Do you need help with sexual addiction AND a prairie photographer?? We’ve got you covered!”
Protected: maybe church, the end pt. 17: the followup letter
a new year’s picture book
Some or all may or may not be fictionalized.
HE: Come, my goddess. Let me take your photo first thing in the morning on the last day of the old year. ME: What?? I’m half asleep, you wanker. HE: Smile! ME: Bleh.
HE: Now let us appear bland and normal. ME: Don’t forget washed out. HE: Yes, that too, my goddess. ME: Look at us. “Please can we come to your church? We are bland and normal and harmless.” HE: Don’t forget washed out. ME: Shut up.
HE: Now let one of us appear friendly while the other appears demented. ME: Okay. Which is which? HE: Photos don’t lie, my goddess.
ME: Okay. NOW let one of us grab the other’s fancy bits whilst whispering not-suitable-for-church nothings. HE: I have no problem with that. ME: Uhm, what does this have to do with New Year’s? HE: Nothing. ME: Oh, okay. I thought this all had a purpose. HE: Nope. ME: Good. Purpose is overrated. HE: You are so right, my goddess, but Happy New Year anyway. ME: Yes. God bless us, every one! HE: That’s for Christmas, isn’t it? ME: It’s for whenever. Blessings are for whenever. HE: Okay. Calm down, Tiny Tim. ME: Calm is overrated! HE: (Sigh.) Should we end this post? ME: I don’t care. I guess so. HE: Okay. ME: Okay.
Clearly, I didn’t plan this out at all since it all went nowhere fast, but Happy New Year, pippa, and God bless us, every one.