Henry just doesn’t get it sometimes. AND WE ALL KNOW I’M DRAMATIC, THANKS HENRY.
Chooch bought this Saturday night. It was only $5, and giant, even. Plus, it has all of the cats.
Chooch: No dumping? No dumping WHAT?
Me: Dead bodies, obvi.
Shit, my kid is so fucking dense sometimes, I can’t stand it. Reminds me of the time I told him he missed the boat and he ran to the window and yelled, “BOAT!? WHERE?!” Granted, he was only like two and a half then. Which means the word “asshole” was probably peppered in there somewhere too. That was his favorite word back then.
Purple Pants in my rearview mirror! We were just coming home from the cemetery on Saturday and there she was, walking past our house, which is an interesting side note: Every time Henry comes home, there is ALWAYS someone walking past our house. This infuriates him because he has to, god forbid, wait to pull into the driveway. It is endlessly hilarious to me because he will furiously bark, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? JESUS CHRIST!”
You know, it’s really all pedestrians that gray Henry’s McNichol-locks. When he used (operative word: “used”) to drive me downtown to work, he would get so outraged at all of the jaywalkers. The one time he shouted, “I DON’T CARE IF THAT ASSHOLE IS IN A WHEELCHAIR!” which would have been kind of hot if it was anyone but Henry making such douchey declarations. The best is when he threatens them with the car windows up. They’re shaking, Henry.
I made this just now on my break so people walking past my office were probably like, “Oh wow, Erin is actually working.”
I took this by accident when I was trying to have an impromptu photoshoot with my cat, Marcy. I think I was trying to re-situate myself so she would be behind me, but then she skulked away because she knows better. Anyway, I liked this picture for two reasons:
- Tammy Faye Bakker eyes in the house
- I look sad, which is apropros because [SEE BELOW PICTURE]
HENRY BOUGHT ME A BOOKLET OF TROLLEY TICKETS WHICH MEANS I’M GOING TO BE TAKING THE TROLLEY FOR THE REST OF EVER.
However, there is a girl with a pink mohawk who sometimes rides the same trolley as me and in my fantasies, she comes over to me and says, “You look like a Jessica Simpson fan, but I bet you are way more cooler than that. Do you like Xiu Xiu and cemeteries?” and I’ll say, “OMG yes!” and then we’ll playing start playing Ruzzle together.
YOU NEVER KNOW.
But then I remind myself of my uncanny ability to attract sociopathic whore-liars (at least one a year!) and I go back to silently staring out the trolley window.
I had these grandiose plans to go to both of these amusement parks for my birthday weekend this summer, but then Henry gave me a lesson in geography. Now I think we’re going to Holidayworld and King’s Island, and I guess I’m OK with that.
I still don’t understand why Henry can’t just charter a jet. Cheap ass motherfucker.