It Would Take A Strong, Strong Man

Thanks for the reassurance re: my unusually psycho behavior. I mean, I know we all yell and scream, but it’s so hard to remember that when you’re knee deep in shit. But hey, things have improved like a hundred-fold after a solid five hours’ sleep last night and uh, showering also helped because no, I didn’t take my own advice and honestly, my yoga pants went to the hardware store themselves today and came back with some laundry detergent.

Incidentally, NeighborWife and I have plans tomorrow, totally not of my doing, and unless she’s planning an intervention (“Jonna, have you thought about the consequences of your violent behavior towards your husband?”) I don’t plan on mentioning The Screaming.

No one will be surprised to learn, either, that I woke up at 3 a.m. retching with heat-related dryness and ripping off my pants in wild fury because someone, in a vain attempt to kick the heat on, cranked up the thermostat to the proverbial eleven before Heat Man came. Dude, it was EIGHTY FIVE in here this morning. That’s like falling asleep on the concrete outside in mid-day Miami. A bit of Florida, right here in Vermont!

Moving on, in no particular order. Around these parts, we refer to Sunny’s Special Lady Area as her gunt, and while I know it’s crass, honestly, it’s one of my favorite words. So EVOCATIVE of that vague no-man’s region where the gut ends and the … ladybits begin. We’ve been saying it over and over to her for about an hour now in various endearing voices, “Who’s got a gunt? WHO? Does my special girl have a special gunt? WHO’S A GOOD GIRL WITH A GUNT?” And so on …

I should also let you know that I was Rickrolled four times today and each time I was completely surprised. COMPLETELY. I’m like a goldfish who fails to realize, ooh look! a TREASURE CHEST! over and over again. But would it be in bad taste to let you know that I found Rick Astley super sexy back in the day and that there’s still something vaguely boyishly handsome about him? And that I, um, owned the album and might still have it kicking around up here?

Speaking of nostalgia, my friend Erica and I have a bit of a thing for ’70s (early ’80s?) Sesame Street scenes and PSAs and spent the better part of the morning killing ourselves over various clips that will no doubt be mysterious to those under the age of 30, but dude, do you y’all remember the creepy milk segment with the high-pitched “Milk. MI-ILK. Milk”? Do you remember when Timer hankered for a hunk o’ cheese? No? Let me remind you:

And look! A wagon wheel!

And finally, because it is The Right Thing To Do, even though it’s not the type of thing I usually do — and this time it’s for a friend of a friend. If you haven’t seen the situation with Emily’s friends and their poor sweet daughter yet, and are so moved, check it out. I always thought this was the sort of thing that the Internet was for, when used properly. Thanks thanks!

*Haaa, Rick Astley. My favorite one on the album. Do you think less of me? I don’t blame you.

18 comments April 1st, 2008