The Honey Pot

i sent her a fucking teacup.

I know I’m on the right track in the human-ing department because The Claire deemed me a glorious bastard rainbow person.

notso-darling:

I’m trying to focus on work over here, but contemplating the spiritual and religious significance of Jennifer’s jesusmelon is so much more interesting.

me: You just turned away from the best part!

UncleDucey: what? I didn’t know what it was, do you want me to turn back?

me: nah, I’ve seen it but, Amy Adams is about to fearlessly dive into a pit of Mark Wahlberg’s (characters) sisters and kick all their asses. It’s the best part of The Fighter. It’s magical.

(certainly way more magical than a rerun of NCIS)

dad: Jon Stewart did a great piece on Ferguson.

me: yeah, I saw it.

dad: “if you’re tired of hearing about it, imagine living it”

me: some people can only hear at the frequency of Old White Man, so it’s really important that his voice is in the mix.

dad: *laughs* yeah.

"I’m trying to be patient with you because I know you just got off the wine bus…A bus made entirely of wine, that if you didn’t drink continually of, it would explode and there would be no more wine. and you would be sad."

-the last thing I said to a family member last night. The aunts got back from their annual Winery tour. Murble brought me cheese so we’re cool. She actually wandered away giggling and talking about “the bloody mary guy” being right behind her on the bus so she didn’t really hear anything I was saying.

I make a noise in the attic.

Jazz barks at the noise from the first floor.

I walk down the stairs slowly carrying a few things to the basement.

Me: Jazz, I think you are barking at me.

AuntMurble: she is. She would like you to be quiet, please! Just sit down and drink your Gatorade, Jennifer!

Me: I’m drinking it every time I go down the attic stairs. I’m almost done and then I’ll sit down. BUT I’LL NEVER BE QUIET!!!

AuntMurble: that makes me sad but I understand.

Me: I’m not concerned with your sadness today, maybe at a later date.

AuntMurble: *laughs*

Me: you could bring up your sadness with your friends at your next drinks meeting.

After several failed and infuriating conversations already this morning.

Me: what am I here to help with? What did you visualize me helping with? Are we moving the books to the porch or something?

AuntMurble: the only reason I’m here early is because the movers weren’t sure when they would show up. No, we aren’t moving the books to the porch.

Me: a week ago, when you asked me to help, WHAT WERE YOU ASKING FOR HELP WITH?

AuntMurble: you don’t have to help.

Me: I said I would help. I AM HERE.

AuntMurble: I guess I didn’t really think about it.

AuntMurble: *yells* CousinGOP is here for a drink.

I walk up to the living room

me: okay, do you want me to make beergaritas?

AuntMuble: OH YES THEY ARE SO GOOD.

me: okay I’ll make you guys a batch. Walk Jazz. and then when I get back, if you’ve drank them all, I’ll make more…and take the batch to my bedroom.

(back from the park)

me: we were swarmed by toddlers at the park. fuckin’ toddlers! *drinks beergarita* SO GOOD. I’m making more.

we all drink more beergaritas. Murble and CousinGOP have been snacking on chips and queso but this is not enough food for me.

me: I was going to make BLT’s tonight but it seems like a lot of work…UncleDucey do you want a BLT?

UncleDucey: yeah!

me: CousinGOP, do you want a BLT?

CousinGOP: Sure!

me: YEAH!

AuntMurble: YEAH!

I start cooking the bacon. spinning the lettuce and toasting the bread

me: wouldn’t it be funny if I just went to sleep in the middle of this BLT making process? because. i.am.drunk.

AuntMurble: don’t fall asleep in the frying pan!

me: no. I would just wander off in the middle of the BLT process and fall asleep in an undisclosed location.

AuntMurble: OH, that would be adorable.

me: aww thanks.

food is finished.

UncleDucey: (to cousinGOP) I’m so glad we had guests tonight so I didn’t have to make a bologna sandwich.

everyone laughs

me: screw you guys!

everyone laughs