The most phoned in post ever.

Today I’m going to do something a little non-conventional because I have to finish a load of crap for my chemical dependency endorsement (did I mention I’m attending community college? They even sent me a certificate–just for enrolling. It is now framed) and I also work tomorrow, which means I’m working on Saturday, which means you should definitely pity me. But at least I’ll be teaching marriage courses to people who really need it. Like former convicts. 
(Side note: last Saturday in the middle of teaching this same class one of the participants had a grand mal seizure. Right there. On the floor. It was crazy, and I felt bad because he was a really nice guy with a lot of tattoos, and he was vomiting everywhere. We had to call the paramedics and everything. Naturally we ended class because I’m pretty sure there’s a rule that states that when someone’s carried out of the building on a stretcher it means your work day is over.)
Medical staff moving patient on bed, in hospital corridor

Yes. My job here is done.

So, I’m sharing a blog post I wrote in my lj (which was my first real blog) back in 2004.  I’m pretty sure this post is historically significant in that it was one of the first blog-posts I ever wrote that didn’t involve emo poetry. I only wish I was joking.
Hope you like it! [That last sentence is to be said in the exact same voice used by Miranda sings as she introduces most of her songs.]
June 16, 2004

Well, Wife and I got new furniture last night. 

Ok, so not new furniture. Old furniture that’s new to us. Here’s the story (with all euphemistic family jargon parenthetically defined in terms of reality): 

Wife’s “aunt and uncle” (identical twin from another womb and her husband) are getting new furniture. Lolly and I have parents that are both capable of extending “financial aid” (money for, like, food) to us, but have opted not to so that we become “independent” (white trash). Therefore, being “independent” (white trash), we can not afford our *own* new furniture, but are at the whims of “benefactors” (people who want to get rid of their crap) who mercifully wish to bestow their “goods” (crap) upon our “heads” (future garage sales). In our “financially sound” (indigent) circumstances and mind-set, we are very willing to hoard such “furniture” (hud). For that reason, virtually everything we “own” (hoard) is something have “acquired” (extracted from the garbage) in this manner.

Anyway, so when they came, Rob (the Uncle) and I “hefted” (dragged) the “sofa and love-seat” (germ infested mounds of cushioning sequestered in green cloth) into the “house” (crappy apartment). I being “legally blind in my left eye” (a total klutz) have no “depth perception” (common dimensional sense) and therefore scraped the “wall” (whitewashed cardboard) with the bulky “couch” (reclinable cesspool). My “wife” (the most awesome person on earth) was not happy. We then spent the rest of the evening “sitting” (swimming) in the “furniture” (eight years of collected grime) and “talking” (gossiping) and “laughing” (making fun of people we know and love). It was “fun” (fun).

Actually we’re pretty excited because, sadly, it really is an upgrade for us. And I make it sound much worse than it is. They make our apt. look like a real home, as opposed to our other couch which made our apt. look a little like a nursing home and which we are lovingly bestowing upon Lolly’s brother and his wife. This is like an exalted version of passing clothes from sibling to sibling. It’s pretty funny.

All right, I’ve gotta “write” (spew forth) a “fun” (Hellish) “essay” (diarrhea of verbiage) now. Have a great day!

Aw, those were the days. Back when we were both in college and were just really scraping by. Things are way different now in that now we also have three children using all our second-hand furniture and we’re scraping by now because of my career in the helping profession as opposed to because of us being students.  So cool how things change so dramatically over time!
What? You didn’t click on the link above?  Well, you simply can’t go on with life until you’ve seen this:
                              If I wasn’t already married…Mmmmm.


  1. Wow, remember when I thought her Single ladies video was for reals? And you and Justin were saying, "NO way". Yeah, I am really glad that she is not, for real. (this is jenni btw)

  2. @Thyme–Yes. I remember. And yes, I'm glad it's not serious. Otherwise there's no way I could handle watching it.

    @Crystal–Not for real, thankfully. But totally awesome. And I'm guessing we'll continue with hand-me-downs for the unforeseeable future, ourselves.

    @Mary Mary–It really does clog things up! We're going to have to do a purge sometime soon. (And are you implying there might be a time where I can look back and remember the days? I sure hope so…)

  3. Oh gosh! I feel bad for her :/ And keep in mind SOMEONE WAS ACTUALLY FILMING THAT! Maybe it's an unconscious attempt at protecting herself?
    Hear out the logic – Post to Youtube = mean vicious comments = unmotivated to go on Idol = Saved from Simon Cowell?
    Though, someone as nutso might not give a damn about comments… hence all my logic is flawed. -_-

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