Drunk Mel Drunk Interviews Drunk Shawn

Jun 29, 2014 by

In which I drunk-interview my drunk husband!

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There’s a rum in my coke + oops.

Jun 28, 2014 by

Unfortunately, I scheduled this 24 hour blogathon on a day that was my father-in-law’s birthday. (I forget. Oops!) And tomorrow, I get to go to an Exotic bird show!

And, I’m havin’ some drinks. Some drinkies. Some relaxation in a cup. I fell and tripped over some rum. SO! What does that mean? It means that, I’m going to try and keep going for as long as I can–tipsy blogging FTW!–but there may be more video/vines than there are text posts.

Second, it means that I will have to “pause”, the blogging whenever I go to bed and try and make it up tomorrow. I am sincerely sorry for having to take a break in what was supposed to be 24 hours straight, but I will make it up to you tomorrow all day long, baby. And hopefully have some very amusing tipsy video/vines for you tonight. I hope you can forgive me and stick with me tonight for as long as I last and tomorrow?

Also, please don’t forget to share these posts as much as you can! Any little bit helps! I’m totes doing this for a very good person, a good cause (no one should be homeless/worry about where they are living next), and I love your faces!

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Utnapishtim

Jun 28, 2014 by

Gilgamesh rolled a rock without any colors in fingers long as church sermons.
No pieces twinkled in his jagged shard, no shimmer in it at all–flat as dead little rat eyes.
The rock and the fingers and his very great weariness in silence,
creepy-clacked to the end of my big toe.
Enkidu sings quietly from a wrinkled tree with bark as gray as the rocks.
Only the very tips of them are leafed-green. Even the sky is hushed,
humming along with Enkidu’s dirge by sending a robin to mumble-warble.
They both wear feathers and I watch them oily-gleam in the sun.
“I had a door. And on that door was my life,” he tells me.
He counts my toes with his eerie fingertips, I cannot say if he is more bird or more man.
“I do not think it was wise of me. Doors remain closed and
lives in stone don’t really breathe.”
I nod carefully, as if I know the delicate things that immortals weave.
As if I knew the gates of Uruk and all the deeds of my life, carved therein.

 

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What I would want you to say at my funeral.

Jun 28, 2014 by

We are gathered here today to remember Mel, who would rather have us call her Pinkatron, Pinkie, Mel, Melly, Melly Jelly Beans, or That Fat Chick That Likes Pink and Glitter a lot.

Mel…Mel was a special case. She had an unhealthy obsession with cats, unicorns, the color pink, fictional male and female characters and really said fuck too much in a conversation to be taken anywhere. Yet, taken she was. Taken with writing fantasy stories that rarely saw the light of day. Taken with using all the wrong grammar at all the right times. She was taken with get-rich-quick-online schemes and making teeny, tiny little things out of clay that people actually liked and purchased.

She gamed far too much, our dear Mel. She was often balls deep into the newest MMORPG for two weeks to six months, screaming obscenities at weirdos and making inappropriate fart noises over Mumble, Teamspeak, Raidcall and Ventrilo. When she wasn’t gaming, she was ignoring her house work much to the chagrin of her husband, Shawn. Who says she made up for it with great meals, fantastic sex, and blurting out one-liners that only made sense to her and those who love Skittles.

She had many cats in her life, despite being married, and drove her relatives to drinking due to her love of animals. Before she passed, her backyard was a small zoo of chickens, goats, pigs, peacocks, seagulls, ravens, cardinals, herbs, vegetables and insane little plastic doo-dads that spun in the wind.

She is survived by the few thousand she met online.
She will be remembered with love.
And pink things.
Definitely, a lot of pink things.

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These are things I HAVE said to other human beings.

Jun 28, 2014 by

Since the last blog post I did was about things I can get away saying to my cats and probably not to other humans, I thought I would share with you some of the things I have said. To people. And my husband. But people too.

 

The Sexual-game attraction is too hot for me right now.”

“If you don’t tell me no, it means I can do it. That’s how we work.”

Thank you for putting up the dishes because I’m a lazy bitch today.

“OMG! DISNEY ROOM!”

I wasn’t sure about your friends, until I realized they were as geeky as I am.”

[Watching Green Lantern/Thor/Superman/any Hero movie that features tight pants] “Butts, butts, butts, butts, butts, butts, butts!”

[Trying to show my husband some function on my phone.] ” Hold on!” [I proceed to THROW IT OVER MY SHOULDER. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY. I JUST DID.]

[Shawn drops his bottle of body wash in the shower for the 2323232323 billionth time. I yell:]  “YEAAAAH! BODY SMOOSH!”

[Spent a couple of days fighting a stomach flew, when the family invited us out for cheap delicious fast-food supper:]” It’s not gonna keep me from 5 guys! I’ll get a rolling toilet!”

“I love your grandma, she doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“They can take away my land, but they can’t take away my SKITTLES!”

“Suck my dick!”
“You don’t have a dick!”
“I do so! It’s a proto-dick!…you should look it up.”

“Only one more day I can put off ironing your shirts! Why do you have to wear clothes every day?!”

“I have a sudden and inexplicable craving for a giant-ass bag of skittles. Is this a sign of brain damage?”
“Yes.”
“Phew! Okay, glad it wasn’t something serious.”

“If we have kids, I am gonna feel real sorry for the rest of the world.”

“WHY are you eating my food off my plate/sleeping on my side of the bed/drinking out of my glass/eating my snacks?”
“Because they’re yours. Therefore, they are momentarily better than mine and therefore, I want them.”

“I CAN’T have dirtied a million bowls. We don’t own that many!”

“I’m pretty sure I just shat my eyes out.”

 

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Things you find yourself saying after owning cats.

Jun 28, 2014 by

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Skittles is indifferent to my pain.

If you own a cat–if you own any animal–hell, probably if you have a kid, there are certain things that you find yourself saying that doesn’t really repeat well in the rest of the world.
Without further ado (and sometimes without context), here’s a collection of things I have actually said to my cats.
(Please feel free to picture them in my voice.)

  • “Phew, Jesus. Someone’s ass stinks!” Picks up cat, sniffs near butt. “Yeah, it’s you all right.”
  • “Awww, who’s a sweet girl? You’re a swee–OW, ow! OW! No, no bites! Mommy needs her blood to be inside. INSIDE!”
  • “You’re completely brain dead, aren’t you?”
  • “Come on, fuck-faces! Time for din-din!”
  • [Commenting on an unfortunate shape in one of my cat’s fur patterns] “Dat’s my wittle penis-face!”
  • “Get your ass off my nose!”
  • “Can you please lick your anus somewhere that’s not directly near my mouth?”
  • “…All right. Who puked on my underwear?”
  • “AUGH, you farted in my mouth.” 
  • “And that’s when she sprang off my balls.”
  • “Who drug their shit through the dining room?”
  • “I need you to get your empty coin-purse out of my face while I’m on the computer.” [To a fixed, male cat.]
  • “NO! NO! Don’t scratch that! Scratch this cheap-ass thing instead!”
  • “You have no idea how stupid you are, do you? No? Good thing you’re cute.”
  • “Awww, your neck is being devoured by your own fat rolls! C’MERE I WANNA PET YOUR ROLLS!”
  • “Did someone poop? Did you poop? Who pooped. That stunk up the entire house. Good one.”
  • “WE DON’T EAT LIZARDS IN THIS HOUSE!”
  • “Sure, let her eat grass. And guess who has to clean up the puke after?”
  • “AUGH ITS SO WET AND SLIMY AND COLD!”
  • “I love you, you little jerkhead.”

What are some of the things you’ve said to your cats that you know you couldn’t get away with anywhere else?

 

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