"Mad Men"... what a fucking show. I gotta start wearing me some suits.
Anywhich, I'm tie-red and I've gotta swim in the morning, so here's a quickie.
Apparently, some Freudian follies transpired during the ride home after school today. The Old Lady went to pick up the spawnage, and while driving home, she spotted a Mini Cooper driving by. You might remember from an older post that when the Crabbyfamily sees a Mini, the first person to yell "Mini Innie!" gets to pinch/poke the nearest person in the belly-button.
It's good, clean family fun, people. Look, you try to entertain a 5 and 9 year old all fucking day and see what ridiculous bullshit you come up with.
So, because Mr. Z was sitting behind the driver's seat, the Old Lady reached back to get the boy. She said she felt what she thought was his shirt and, well, poked. This was Mr. Z's response:
MR. Z: Mom?! You just tickled my nuts!!!
If you're keeping score, Thursday, September 27, 2007 marks the day that Mr. Z begins his quest to find a girl who will be able to someday give him a special "Mini Innie" the way his Mom once did.
4 comments:
Oh, that's painful. And I'm sure both of them will point to this post in the not so distant future when they are seeking therapy. It's bad enough that it HAPPENED, and now to share the experience with your 1, 583,209 daily blog readers... Mrs. Crabby, I feel your pain. Crabbydad, I expect you are about to feel yours (at the hands of Mrs. C...)
Isn't Mad Men great, I am truly obsessed.
Got my Gold Leaf wrapping paper today in a box that could've housed an elephant. No wonder the shipping cost superseded the cost of the item. I do think, however that there is enough paper on the roll to cover the box; at least I can use it again, someone is getting an elephant for chriskwanzukkah! Hope Mr. Z gets all the crap toys he could ever want.
Really, Queen Lisa? 1,583,209? Hm, StatCounter must be rounding down a bit when they tell me it's more like 75. But then, I was never good at math. And I've decided to divert all the $$ from the Innisbrook fundraiser into a therapy fund for both of the spawnage. It'll come in way more handy than the gold leaf wrapping paper.
And jjs, maybe you can wrap that box in said paper and ship it to me, so I can dump all the crap Mr. Z is gonna win into it and then toss it where it will eventually go anyway, into a landfill. Ah, the cycle of life.
My socks came, also in a giant box that so far is still sitting on the front porch.
In my last music column for a fairly family friendly paper I wrote about an art show where one painting was randomly put in a head to head competition. Audience participation spared the life of one and the other was destroyed by the fate of the Wheel of Death. Chain saw, ugly stick, axe or Dirty Sanchez. At one point the emcee said "What does a guy got to do to get a Dirty Sanchez around here?" How could I not print that quote?
The next night I reviewed a band called The ReachArounds.
The editor of the paper was braced for calls complaining about my column. Nothing.
My mom called me today to tell me it was her favorite column so far. Stick that in your therapy hat.
The Vibrators piece will be a breeze.
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