Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.
Level III Commenter, Professor Napkin, has managed to freak everyone out with his tendency to “shampoo the goldfish”. I will do my best to help.
My ideas on his usage:
Scene: INT. OFFICE. DAY.
[ring ring]
Nakkins: Hullo, Prof. Napkin here. What do you fancy? I live in London.
Lady stalking Nakkins: Want to see a British movie tonight?
Nakkins: Uh, right. See, the thing about it is I’m busy. I have to shampoo the goldfish.
Lady stalking Nakkins: Understandable. I’ll not call again. Or I might kill you.
My ideas on proper usage:
Scene: INT. KITCHEN. MORNING.
Teen: Yo whatup Mom. Ever get that ‘not-so-fresh’ feeling?
Mom: Sounds like someone needs to shampoo the goldfish.
We make our own beds, don’t we.
So I’m standing in line at the gas station, mindlessly fingering around in the ice tub of gigantic beers. I pick up and begin fondling this clam-flavored beer, trying to get some answers, when I notice that the chick behind me is observing with great intensity.
The result: I kept it => that lady does not think I’m a girly-man => now I have to drink this beer. Oh, and also, FAIL.
—–
Unrelated: Zooey is engaged to Death Cab?
I’LL NOT LEAVE YOU AGAIN. Not for a good, long time. This is what Happy Airport looks like:
So I take it all back. All the things I’ve said about you:
- the insufferable humidity
- your “dance clubs”
- NASCAR
- your general insistence on the Immaculate Conception — high-five, Mary. You pulled it off.
“srsly god did it”
via vexappeal
Filed under: Iowa, beer, bored, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, what a dick, you
OK guys: FLIGHT CANCELED. If I could bitch-slap the weather, I would.
I was so looking forward to NOT THIS. Since I am an emotional handicap, I’m pretty sure the entire airport knows I how I feel about my extended stay in Iowa.
Please, someone talk to me. I’ve already tried screaming SERENITY NOW!!!! but that pissed everyone off.
I’ve started drinking.
That smile was captured en route to the Airport of Sadness. It has been turned upside down. A couple-few more heinekens and we’ll right-side-it-up again.
I have never been this stoked to board a plane to TEXAS. Things to indulge in:
- tacos
- my beloved Wii
- a stinkly pug
- Virgin Mary air fresheners (Yes. I miss the Catholics)
Filed under: Iowa, bored, chillin today, eating food, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, you
Relatively Constant Circumstances:
- Softwater
- Going ANTIQUING against one’s will. Oh yeah I am being super-cereal about this
- Where is the tobasco? Do I have to eat the fish eggs
- Can I put this down your garbage disposal / do you like your dishes in the dishwasher facing North? [AGAIN, super-cereal] / where do I put my empty glass bottle?
- Had to leave all my recreational “God made dirt => dir’t don’t hurt” plant life at home
- B&W movies, of which I don’t have an across-the-board prob with, but who watches “The Day the Earth Stood Still” in its original version when you have 20-something guests in your home?
- Sneaking alochol. Hoping no one planned to put scotch in their eggnog, as I have stolen and hidden it in the basement guestroom.
2) 
3) 
7)
Consequences of the Above C ircumstances
- I cannot get clean, no matter if I rinse long enough to freeze myself out when 6 other people are taking/have already taken showers. Filmy soap scum is an evil, slippery force.
- I’ll show you the rest of my “finds” shortly.
- I am not satiated. Not hardly. The W.T. in me doesn’t like fish eggs.
- I don’t want to be a pretentious dick about your refusal to recycle so let’s all get uncomfs when I ask where to put the empty glass .
- I could handle this whole thing in a more civil manner if I had some herbal assistance and had decided to bring my Wii. My lungs are sort of thanking me, though.
- Actually, who wants to see either version? OK, if you’re a guy with the guy retard gene, may-hap you wanna see the remake with KEANU. Full disclosure, I have the retarded chick gene that has caused me to watch Kate Hudson’s “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days” 130492x.
- When there isn’t 50 people up in the kitchen, must spike whatever is on hand, and with a quickness.
Bonus glass of FAKE WINE of TRICKERY:
P.S. I hope you guys hearted your ecards if you requested one. If you still want one, send me an email at halfassitude at gmail. Wuv you guys, would rather hang out with you via interton any day.
I’m in fucking Iowa. I’m getting in trouble for not putting up ornaments. I now have a vodka ginger ale that looketh like water [don't think I didn't drink on the plane.]
[Or at the airport bar. Relax, those glasses aren't all mine]
More to come later. I told Jen I’d make her a snow angel. If I chicken out, I’ll blame it on my cough. IT IS DAMN COLD UP HERE.
Filed under: you
Send your email add to halfassitude@gmail.com. I promise you will regret it.
Don’t fuckin’ ask me. I dunno:
I even read the entire inside here? And it’s on pre-order until January wtf? It’s actually pretty great, considering my reading level is on par with that of a 3rd grader, but was it necessary for me to purchase the hardcover??? The grad school salary literally puts me under the federal poverty line. [Side note: my former 40-something boss once told me she "blacked out the other night" and "apparently ordered the Billy Joel Special Edition Box Set."]
**BREAKING NEWS** Yipany just delivered to me the ultimate, and ALSO a pair of shoes that defy the awesomeness of your mom. Pics of those to come soon, I’m outties tomorrow but will continue to blog FOR I WILL BE IN EFFING IOWA MINUS 7 DEGREES !$%#@%#
Book info here, in case you’re drunk and feel like pre-ordering a hardcover children’s book that will arrive post-January.
Gentlemen: With the cold season upon us, do you find that your breasticles have begun to itch? This would have to do with dry skin. Or one would hope.
Ladies: How bout you? Or do you own higher-quality undergarments that do not cause you to sneakily swipe at your breast during meetings and family dinners. Lace is OUT, I decree.
So I’m not sure what I was thinking with this one. I already has a job, and they are none too pleased w/my latest stunt.
I got a call to teach a couple of classes at the local community college, and I was like aight, let’s meet and see what’s up. What is up is that they need someone STAT, and what also is up is that my current employer is not exactly throwing a parade right now. BUT:
FTW I’m not teaching a class at the University next semester, just TA’ing (Teacher Assistant’ing) twice a week. The main concern is how it will interfere with my research. I would like to GTFO of this program one day and before I get hit by a bus or something.
After an epic convo with my boss this afternoon, I think I might could do all three. Final decision to come tomorrow. If my boss(es) DO NOT WANT, then I’ll post another pic tomorrow evening with sadface and two wine bottles indicating extreme disappointment instead of the joy you see above.
Our Date
1) You buy me raw oysters. I impress you and tell you not to bother looking for an oyster’s penis; it’s not there. I explain to you the “gonads” situation, leaving out that I learned all of this from one of my commenters.
2) I attempt to eat a raw oyster and promptly vomit. You gently tease me as you clean up the mess.
3) You sit and watch me drink, a la Rufus Wainwright: 14th Street
4) We go to my home and play outdated video games on my PS2 (Tony Hawk, Grand Theft Auto San Andreas) as we watch The Learning Channel on the second tv.
5) I show you the cutest dresses I’ve found online last week. You are thrilled and provide meaningful feedback.
6) THE END. Your ride arrives and takes you back to the institution.
If he has a biblical name, inquire after his siblings. Try to find out their names. If they are also biblical, well there you go. High Information Content.
*does not apply to Jewish Given Names
Guys, do oysters have sex? Or do they make love. But seriously dudes, my google is broken or my fingertips are delicate and I still want to know how they reproduce. I’ve never seen “oyster penis” on any “Bizarre Foods” type of show, so I’m assuming the bebes arrive via stork.
I was facing a giant plate of raw oysters yesterday (with no penises – I checked), a situation I continue to put myself in only to grimace my way through. What other things sound good, but actually aren’t?
- Degree collecting
- Substituting powdered coffee creamer for milk in scrambled eggs or anything else
- Eating raw ginger
- Letting a pug sleep with you on the hammock (cause every time you need to get up, it’s precarious and like Pug Jenga — NOT a pug’s favorite game)
*I wore those candy-cane tights to work yesterday, and of course ran into my boss, his exec assistant, his mother, etc. They each seemed to be having conversation with my tights instead of with me. Just want 2 b me and wear authentic tights.
