WTB Farm

 

I have plenty of complaints—and the usual Actual Conversation,™ but first I need to update you on a critical issue.

 

One I’m sure—if you’re a regular around here—has been on your mind of late.  Probably keeping you from working (you’re welcome) or even getting a good night’s sleep (I’m sorry).

 

Because I know you’ve been deeply concerned for a certain member of my family.

 

John Stewart (hosting The Daily Show) eating popcorn while he stares, wide-eyed, at something

 

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Stuffing Fluffies

 

Sometimes I swear he says shit just to get a reaction out of me.

Barney Stinson "Whaaaaaat?!"

And by “reaction” I mean get me to blog about him.  So he can be Internet Famous.  Which makes you all his enablers.  Not me—I’m his wife, and legally obligated to support his bullshit for as long as it amuses me to do so—but y’all need to do some deep thinkin’ about what sort of behavior you want to encourage in the people who design the things that fly over your damned heads all day long.

 

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Poor Brenda

 

Adding to the recent avalanche of suck, our car started randomly overheating last week.  So it was with one last longing look at our for-once-not-meager account that I sent Husband and car off to the shop.

 

Only to be rewarded with an outrageous repair bill.

 

As in:

HIM:  Did you get my email? With the estimate?
ME:  No, let me… Oh holy fucksticks.  No.  Just… no.
HIM:  Yeah.
ME:  No, No!  We don’t have that—and if we did, we certainly wouldn’t spend it on this car!
HIM:  So… car shopping?
ME:  Ugh.
HIM:  I’ll come home and—
ME:  Wait—do I have to go?
HIM:  Um… yeah?
ME:  (internal litany of fucks)

Chanel Oberlin has a tantrum

Don’t.  Wanna!

 

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Ask Your Travel Agent

 

There are two things I can always count on in my own home; two principles by which I survive each treacherous day amongst the meth ghosts and kamikaze squirrels.

 

  1. Even the animals are working against me.
  2. I am married to a man who is determined to find humor in everything but particularly delights in my everyday vexation.

 

As you are no doubt itching for an example—and I happen to have one handy—let’s continue to waste time together.  Can’t have you working just because you’re on the clock, now can we?

 

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Umami

 

Our actual anniversary is in December, which is perfect for us because of my love for the holiday season, hot chocolate, and letting other people throw my party.*

Courtney Cox saying, "I can't say 'no' to tequila"

It would be rude.

But spring—according to some dead poets—is the season of rebirth and romance.  I’ve never noticed, because I have eyeballs and can see that the trees are still bare and everything is dripping, but maybe all the Great Poets are blind?**

 

Regardless, spring is more or less here and I—in the spring of my fifteenth year of marriage to a man who tricked me into marrying him—am realizing I still don’t know him at all.

 

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