– PRODUCT ENDORSEMENT: Ladies, I am completely serious. Go buy these jeans. They are totally flattering, and the most comfortable things I’ve ever wiggled my ass into. (Readers now go into a veritable free-for-all of snarky fresh comments, the Internet implodes upon itself, mass mayhem ensues, cats and dogs begin sleeping together…)
– Last night, Bill and I went to bed. As often happens when we go to bed, we goof around for a good fifteen or twenty minutes before actually settling down to sleep. By “goof around”, I don’t mean FOOL around. I mean GOOF. Wrestle. Giggle. Tickle. Poke. And some grosser things that I won’t get specific about. I shriek, he laughs. I slug his arm, he pins me to my pillow. I try to roll him off me, he rolls onto me harder. I push his pillows off the bed, me makes me EAT my pillows. All in the dark, all very slumber party-ish. A certain extra element of hilarity was added last night, when I mentioned, “Wouldn’t it be HYSTERICAL if I set up the video camera and all it recorded was darkness, except for all the NOISE we’re making while we’re fucking around like this?” Then we started giggling. Then we started wondering how some of the noises would be interpreted, and we laughed harder. Then we considered all the definitions we’d have to provide to you, the general public, and cracked up. For instance, do you know the meaning of “Wish You Could Breathe But Can’t”? Do you know what it means to be threatened by the “Polar Bear”, or the “Walrus”, or the “Titanic”? Do you know what a “vwop” is? Do you understand the dread anticipation that follows the words, “Okay, now…” uttered by my husband, and causes me to holler, “NO OKAY NOW!” back at him? Can you even comprehend what I could possibly mean when I shriek at the very tippy-top of my lungs, “STOP PUCKERING ON MY LEG!”? Perhaps, my gentle snowflakes, you are better off not knowing.
– Bill and I almost fought over the terms “Slug Bug” versus “Punch Buggy”. Which vernacular do you use? Argue the merits of one term over the other. Analyze and elucidate the wrongness of the use of the incorrect term. Discuss.
– Last night I dreamed that nobody showed up for Joss’ benefit party. I woke up in a full-blown panic attack, complete with a gut that was on FIRE as if there were hellish little Oompa Loompas who had built a campfire in my innards and were happily toasting marshmallows while alternately poking at my stomach wall with their sharp, pointy, fire-heated sticks. The fuckers. I tossed and turned for the better part of an hour, and when I finally fell asleep I was stuck in a nightmare in which Bill was bitten by a zombie and was slowly turning into one and there was nothing I could do about it except either kill him or join him. Interpret. Analyze. Discuss.