Henry has been  in a terrible mood all weekend which is hard to believe considering he spends so much time hanging out with Chooch and me. That just made procuring Henry Bombs even more fun! 

 
The “Dropping Off The Kids At the Sold Out Sleeping With Sirens Show, Speeding Off Into the Sunset For a Night Of Peaceful Grocery Shopping” shot. It was the happiest he’s ever been. If he could have gotten away with grocery shopping in his underwear, he probably would have suffered a hernia of happiness. 

(Forever cutting off the top of my head because I’m a selfie dunce.)

The “Professional Driver Henry Doesn’t Need The Rear Camera Thing To Back Out Of a Parking Lot” shot. “I WILL USE THE MIRRORS AS THEY WERE INTENDED!”

  
The “Henry Will Go Into Any Convenience Store, Even Those Of Ill Repute, In Order To Score Beverage” shot. #beveragerenegade

The “DONT TOUCH MY GLASSES!” shot. 

The “Using His Belly As a Plate” shot. 

The “Weekend’s Only Just Begun & Henry Already Hates Everything Even Though ‘Broken Wings’ is playing at Valliant Diner” shot.   

The “Dutifully Washing Dishes So Chooch & I Will Have More To Dirty” shot.    

The “Channeling His Mental Colorwheel In Order To Assemble the Most Aethestically-Pleasing Serial Killer Greeting Card But Always Double-Checking With Me First” shot. 

OK that’s all. I have to go finish watching this thing about Ted Bundy because it’s my life and I do what I want.  

It’s Henry’s 50th birthday! So here are 50 things that Chooch and I love about that big old mustachioed dumdum. (Chooch wrote the title of this, btw.)

Chooch’s 25:

1. He bitches when I  break my headphones: He says I cant get another pair, even though he buys me more.
2. He buys me stuff: He is such a prince.
3. He does stuff with me: He’s super nice.
4. He does stuff for mommy: He is a prince.
5. He loves us: He doesn’t love anyone else but us Oh yes, almost forgot he loves all his family members.
6. He buys us food: So we don’t starve to death.
7. He’s easy to make fun of: Like the times we go on his Instagram.
8. He cares about our health: When we are sick or hurt he rushes home from work or just gives me medicine.
9. He never leaves us: Yeah, he might get a little annoyed at us but he doesn’t leave us.
10. He’s never scared: We always hide from him and try to scare him, but he’s never scared.
11. He is smart: He knows a lot about nature at the cemetery.
12. He is strong: He was in the Service so of course he is a strong independent man.
13. He is practically a hipster: Don’t ask, of course you should know. (Hint: His Beard)
14. He takes us to concerts: Even though he effing hates it.
15. He yells at us: Its funny when he said SHUT THE DOOR!
16. He takes us to Ice Cream shops: Even though he has to get his pants on when he’s comfortable on the couch.
17. He teaches me stuff: Such as how to ride a bike, and how to swim.
18. He sometimes is too scared to go in haunted houses: He usually protects us.
19. He is too scared to go on rides in amusement parks: He might hate amusement parks.
20. He protects us from almost dying: He always protects us from scary drunk guy who walks on our street.
21. He gives directions: To very hard things me and mommy are bad at.
22. He fixes stuff: When mommy or me break something he usually fixes it.
23. He’s not drunk: He doesn’t drink TOO much beer a day.
24. He cleans stuff: When he breaks a glass cup or I puke on the floor he cleans it.
25. His Frowns: He’s famous for his frowns.

Erin’s 25:

1. He irons my clothes for me so that I don’t cry because I melted another favorite shirt or the entire house.
2. He procures fruit for me!
3. He’s not a poser: he doesn’t try to dress “cool” when he goes to concerts.
4. He has an extensive collection of Faygo uniforms. (Sometimes this is even what he wears to concerts because what does he care.)
5. He’s not afraid of emasculating himself by drinking SHANDY every now and again even though it’s not REAL BEER.
6. He takes any DIY idea I throw at him and does it better. (LIKE MY GET STOKED SIGN!)
7. He goes along with all of my photoshoot ideas, even if it means wearing makeup or a tutu.
8. He makes me lavender-flavored food & makes really great iced coffee for me even though he is NOT a coffee-drinker.
9. He supports my serial killer greeting card side business.
10. He pretty much lets me do whatever I want as long as it doesn’t involve drugs or other guys’ weeners.
11. He is super good at cooking with seitan and tofu even though he enjoys feasting on animals.
12. He used to like fishing but then we started dating and I was like *PETA!* *TEARS!* *MURDERER!* *BAD MAN!* so now he doesn’t go fishing anymore.
13. He LOVES when people need directions because he’s a professional driver and knows all the best routes around town.
14. He always has time to help his mom.
15. He always has my back, like when the Catholic moms at Chooch’s old school ganged up on me. (“Well, if they don’t want you to write about them being assholes, then they shouldn’t act like assholes!”)
16. Sometimes, in the dark, he looks like Bo Brady!
17. He got my initial tattooed on his finger because I told him to.
18. He’s OK with the world revolving around me.
19. He taught me to like vegetables because he felt that, as a vegetarian, I should be eating more than just pizza and grilled cheese.
20. He probably knows about more bands than your dad, whether he wants to or not.
21. He’s really good at cutting bangs. (Should I get bangs again?)
22. He said hi to Jonny Craig one time, lol.
23. He is so good at crafts and sewing and basic domestic skills, that you would think his mom was a Home Ec teacher back in the day.
24. He LOVES when people ask him about the Ted Nugent show in the 1980s.
25. HE WAS IN THE SERVICE. (I don’t care if Chooch already said it. This is an important thing.)

Now I kind of wish I hadn’t shared this with Chooch because I could have easily gone on for another 25, ugh! Like how he entertains my tradition of having Xmas cemetery picnics, takes me all over for concerts even though he typically hates the bands, and he eats funnel cake off the ground because by golly he PAID for it!

OK, so today’s Hero Henry post has a plethora of examples of heroism, from warning other vehicles of a crash on a highway to cutting my food, to driving em 6 hours to see Jonny Craig and then comforting me later when I decide that I HATE JONNY CRAIG and suffer a subsequent panic attack. He really does it all, ladies and gentlemen.

It’s 10:32am and we just dropped Chooch off at his Aunt Kelly’s and are officially en route to Allentown for the Hands Like Houses/Slaves show. Except that I threw about 18 fits this morning because I didn’t have anything to wear so then Henry was trying to pick things out for me and by that I mean he was trying to make me wear things that make me feel fat because he’s a motherfucker!! Who does that?! And then he was like here wear this purple shirt, you wear this purple shirt a lot. NO I DON’T! But whatever, I put it on. I’m live blogging this because probably we’re going to fight again soon and I’ll have no one to talk to. Just you, Blog.

10:35: SHEETZ. Henry is finally going to feed me.

10:46: Sheetz is the worst on Memorial Day weekend, UGH!! It was so crowded and I panicked because I’m wearing a fatsuit that Henry picked out for me and I just wanted to be done in there so I grabbed a PB&J from the cooler even though that’s not what I wanted and I’m mad!! I hope Henry chokes on his Slim Jims. Motherfucker.

Before we dropped Chooch off, we drove past a church and Chooch decided to make up a prayer that started with “For the love of kittens in London and Taiwan.”

11:10am: After great deliberation (with himself), Henry has decided to just go ahead and use the EZ Pass that comes with the rental car. Wow. What a monumental occasion. I’m so glad it happened on a day I decided to live blog. LIVE IT UP, HENHEN.

11:17am: Just passed a truck crashed into the barrier on the opposite side of the road so Henry was all, “I HAVE TO WARN ONCOMING TRAFFIC!” so he started flashing his lights and then he saw an eighteen wheeler and said, “OH I WILL DEFINITELY HAVE TO WARN THIS TRUCK! HE WILL NEED TIME TO SLOW DOWN!” He’s so proud of himself. Get this motherfucker a badge.

OH, HE WENT FOR IT:

12:19pm: Stopped to pee a few minutes ago and Henry tried to hold my hand (when we were walking into the rest area, not while I was peeing). Then I had to go and accidentally look at myself in the bathroom mirrors and just ugh, thanks for ruining my life Henry!! Came back out after some ginger bitch kept being in my way and Henry had a bag of Auntie Anne’s pretzel bites as if I’m not already engorged enough! UGH!!

12:21pm: OK I feel a little better but I need more coffee ASAP. And Henry keeps pointing at dumb things out the window. GO FUCK YOURSELF AND YOUR STUPID SCENERY!!! Maybe I’m not actually feeling any better, n/m.

12:38pm: Just screamed at Henry to not hit the hawk flying up ahead of us and he yelled, “It’s flying 15 feet above us! I’d have to make the car jump to hit it!” UGH STFU HENRY GO CONFUSE A DICK FOR AN AUNTIE ANNE’S PRETZEL BITE WHY DON’T YOU!!!

12:44pm: According to Henry, I’m “lucky” to have him because “any other guy” would have left me at home after I threw my “tantrum.” OH OK.

1:19pm:

Fun fact! I had to buy this album three times because I kept playing it to the point of no return. Also, we stopped several minutes ago so I could get an iced macchiato at Starbucks but Henry loudly said, “I’m going to a real store to get a drink” and then walked defiantly across the rest stop to the A-Plus convenience store. You sure showed all of us coffee drinkers, Henry.

1:52pm: UGHHHHHH!!!!

2:10pm: We’re at this diner in Carlisle, PA. They only like me here, not Henry.

2:14pm: HENRY JUST SCRATCHED HIS ‘STACHE:

2:34pm: Henry had to reorganize my veggie burger and then cut it for me because feeding myself is hard. :( I had ketchup everywhere and I was so scared.

3:40pm: How are we not there yet, ugh. I only have so many things to say to Henry, and it’s mostly “shut up” in a variety of tones and volumes.

4:04pm: Oh look there’s our hotel but Dum-Dum Henry can’t figure out how to get there. Also, Allentown is a shit hole. (Actually, I haven’t seen any of it but I’m really good at prejudging.)

4:24pm: At the Ramada Inn. I asked Henry for a quote and he mumbled, “glad to be here. Stoked” but for some reason I think he’s being sarcastic.

4:38: Aaaaaaand, panic attack.

5:00: Going to die now. BBL as a ghost.

5:53pm: After talking me down from a cliff, we’re inside the Croc Rock which is a total dump & full of disgusting women-hating bros and underaged girls thirsty for Jonny Craig. Also, the ceiling is leaking and it smells like piss. Fuck you, Allentown. At least Hands Like Houses are here.

We just saw the guy from Hands Like Houses who looks like a young Tim Curry to me, ughhhh. Even Henry just calls him “Tim Curry” now. “Look here comes Tim Curry,” Henry said the first time we got here right before I cried, “I CAN’T DO THIS LETS JUST GO WAHHH” so we sat in the car and he patted my knee until I was OK. But you guys knew I had issues.

6:25pm: Girl next to me just said, “Is it just me or does it smell like cat piss in here?” And I’m like YES but then WAIT WHAT IF IT’S ME?

6:45pm: Alive Like Me asked who’s excited for Slaves and I did not cheer. Because fuck you JC no I love you NO I HATE YOU! AHHHHHHGGGHHH. Someone give me a mallet.

6:52pm: I’m always waiting for bands to say PUT YOUR MEAT CLEAVERS IN THE AIR, MOTHERFUCKERS! because I’m READY. But they never do. It’s always just “hands” :(

7:33pm: King Shit must be about ready to take the stage because every thirsty chick in this room just spontaneously released pheromone. I just want to puke though.

8:02pm: I HATE YOU I LOVE YOU I HATE YOU I LOVE YOU UGHHHH.

8:33pm: Shucks y’all that was a pretty big mistake.

9:35pm: I’m glad that was an early show because I’m starving and want alcohol (no bar at that venue, WTFFFF??). Totally stressed out and Henry is driving in circles looking for a secret bar that has apricot coriander beer. When we left, we walked past a pizza place where King Shit was eating with his rebound girl, ugh it made me sick. I just can’t with him anymore.

9:45pm: Professional Driver HenHen found the Allentown Brew Works but lied about the apricot beer. At least the hockey game is on.

10:03pm: Henry doesn’t like champagne.

10:30pm: I hate our waitress so much and Henry is like in love with her. And no that’s not even why I hate her. I just had a martini because this asshole place didn’t have that stupid apricot beer and that’s all I wanted I hate my life today was SO DUMB. FUCK YOU.

10:34pm: so I guess me (Henry) has to post . As of now I have nothing to say, except its been a helluva day.

11:02pm: Me: “I’m taking down all of my Jonny Craig pictures in my office on Tuesday.” Henry: “OK.”

Oh boy, I wanted to share an example of Henry saving Chooch and me from perishing but there were so many to choose from! But I think the best is the time during the fall of 2011 when Henry heroically broke into our house after he locked us out. Technically, Chooch did all the hard work. But…it’s Henry’s birthday, not Chooch’s. I think I’ve shared this post on Facebook approx. 87 times since then but TOO BAD. It’s one of my favorites! 

Runners-up: The time Henry stopped me from acquiring a Vicodin addiction / Another time we were locked out / Henry keeps the grass cut so Chooch & don’t get lost in it / Redbox Assistance.

Goddammit, all I wanted to do was go for a nice, leisurely family stroll around our crappy town, but dum-dum Henry left the keys in the house and started flipping out about how it was my fault because I rushed him out of the house.

I was like, “Why can’t we just go for a walk and worry about this later?” which apparently was not a Great Idea based on the look of utter incredulity Henry flashed at me.

Chooch and I carried on like cackling assholes while Henry tore apart the garage for suitable items to MacGyver a battering ram. I mean, I guess if he hot-glued together all of his old porn VHS tapes from the SERVICE, he might have something to go on.

He ignored my suggestions of calling the landlord or heaving a cinder block through the window and instead considered using a can of gasoline to burn down the front door.

I’m surprised he didn’t go next door to ask Hot Naybor Chris for a breaking and entering consultation, considering those two once helped the gas man break into our neighbor’s house in order to shut off his gas before our house exploded.

Yeah, this has promise.

“What? I coulda done it. If only I had remembered to eat my individually-wrapped prunes today.”

“NOW I HAVE HEDGECLIPPERS! THESE WILL HELP! I WILL MANICURE THE WEEDS INTO SILHOUETTES OF MY REPUBLICAN HEROES WHILE STARING LONGINGLY INTO OUR FRONT WINDOW.”

These are some of the things Henry said while Chooch and I buzzed around him like flies on a bear:

• THAT’S ENOUGH!
• YOU’RE A LOT OF FUCKING HELP.
• GO SOMEWHERE AND PLAY!
• THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT. I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO GO FOR A WALK!
• FML FML FML FML FML
• YEAH, THIS IS REAL FUCKING FUNNY.
• AND I JUST KNOW I’M MISSING “SHE’S CRAFTY.” MOTHER!
• YOU ASSHOLES CAN JUST STAY OUT HERE! I’LL FUCKING WALK TO WORK. AT LEAST I HAVE THOSE KEYS.

Oh God, Chooch. DON’T POKE THE BEAR!

…or KICK the bear. Henry almost gave Chooch “orphan” status after this.

Meanwhile, I found this fucker in the garage. WTF kind of creepshow is this!? I wish I had had it for my Murder Desk at work.

I was trying to chronicle this episode from all angles, which did not please the man one bit. He made like he was going to grab my phone off me and beat me with it, enlightening me on what it must be like to work for TMZ.

After fifteen minutes, Henry succeeded in prying open the window with a pair of pliers. Now you know how to break into my house and steal our cats. Seriously, it’s all we’ve got in there. Cats galore.

Just don’t forget to bring a small child to catapult through the window. (I mean, at least he’s going IN a window and not falling OUT of a window, right?)

You know that fucker is going to go to school tomorrow and tell his teacher about how his burglar parents made him shimmy up the side of a skyscraper.

Moments later, the house keys came whaling through the window straight at Henry’s face. Chooch rules.

“ENOUGH ALREADY.”

Reassembling the window.

And he did it all so he could go on a walk he did not want to go on in the first place. In this picture, I think he’s texting his boss: OMG I IS A HEROE. I NEED DAY OFF.

Henry turns 50 in three days! How exciting(ly horrifying). In honor of his big numerical accomplishment, I am going to reshare some of the times Henry got to be A HERO. Maybe I can pump his mom and sister for some untold tales, as well! First up, please enjoy the time when Henry got to call 911 twice on his birthday last year!

It was a relatively low-key Saturday night here at the Oh Honestly Household. Chooch had already gone up to bed (which means he went upstairs to watch YouTube videos on his phone for another 2 hours) and Henry and I were watching the Stanley Cup finals (GO KINGS!). Around 11:00PM, there was a hideous crash/boom/squeal right outside of our house.

Right away, we knew it was a car accident.

The street we live on is a pretty busy one and a lot of the houses here don’t have driveways (luckily, ours does). When I moved here back in 1999, one of the first things my then-neighbor said to me was, “Never park your car in front of the house.” Shit, was she ever right. I learned that this was especially sound advice to observe on weekends. There are a ton of drunks that drive on this street. I have seen so many accidents from my living room window, it’s insane. Recently, someone hit a parked car down the street from us so hard that they pushed it all the way into our front yard. I always tell my friends to park across the street in the church parking lot, because you just never know. I mean, we had the mirror ripped off of our car two days after we bought it because we stupidly left the car parked on the street for “just a second.”

Anyway, back to Saturday night. We heard that sickening crunch of car-against-car and Henry flew out the front door, forgetting that he was in his underwear, to see what had happened. Then other neighbors (i.e. The Hot Naybor Chris Family) began to emerge from their houses as well, so Henry ran back inside to put on his pants, but don’t worry, he was back out in time to take total control of the situation.

We quickly deduced that a car had been speeding down the street and plowed into a parked Lexus (sucks to be that car owner) next door and then tried to keep driving even though the entire wheel and tire of his car had broken. So he made it an additional two houses up the street before putting on his flashers and getting out of the car. He was drunkenly staggering around his car, running his hands through his hair, in total panic-mode.

Meanwhile, Tourette’s happened to be moseying along the sidewalk, coming back from wherever it is that people like him go to (poker night with Purple Pants in a pizza parlor basement?), and he totally paused to become a spectator! I was so excited, you have no idea!!! But oddly, of all the times where it would be appropriate for him to shake his fist and cry, “You motherfucker!” he blurted out no such obscenities and instead stood calmly at the end of our sidewalk, contributing to the community powwow.

Just then, the Perp began drunkenly pacing up and down the sidewalk and at one point, it looked like he was going to run before turning around, crouching on the sidewalk for a moment, and then getting back into his car.

“He’s going to run,” I observed, but one of the neighbor girls said, “He ain’t going nowhere with his wheel broken off!”

“No,” I argued. “He’s going to literally run. I can tell.”

So then Henry got to be a HERO and call the POLICE, who are basically his favorite people in the whole entire world second to those Air Force fellas and broads. And just as Henry was hanging up with the 911 dispatch person, the perp got out of his car and started to walk/run up the sidewalk, away from all of us. So Henry got to CALL THE POLICE AGAIN!

“Yeah, I just called,” he said, quickly reiterating the pertinent details. “Well, it’s a hit and run now,” Henry said excitedly, flashing his imaginary war medallions. “YES, HE’S ON FOOT AND FLEEING THE SCENE!” So then one of the neighbor girls decided she was going to follow him, barefoot, in spite of her mom’s protests. That was stupidly exciting, too.

It was at this point that I realized Henry and Tourette’s were hanging out with a bunch of pajama-clad, braless broads. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest.

“Where are the cops!?” Tourette’s cried. “I know for a fact that there are four of them down the street at the gas station parking lot right now, drinking coffee!” And then he made a series of unhappy grunts. Finally, a cop rolled up with the lights on and Henry practically shoved everyone out of the way to lean into the window and scream, “HE WENT THATTA WAY!” and then he completely gave an inaccurate description of the Perp. So the cop sped off in the direction of Henry’s finger and we all cheered because it was exciting, OK?

Soon, we were joined by my deceased cat Don’s grandma (her cat Teddy knocked Marcy up back in 2000 and that’s where Don and Willie came from) from four houses down. We compared horror stories of all the accidents we’ve collectively witnessed on this street, and then she decided to walk up to the Perp’s abandoned car and start rooting through it.

Logical.

“You drink and you drive and you drive and you drink and you drink and you drive,” Tourette’s began rambling to no one in particular.

I took this opportunity to fetch Chooch, who of course was still wide awake and watching lame videos in his room.

“I thought that noise was just Daddy breaking something in the kitchen as usual,” Chooch mumbled, hastily stepping into a pair of jeans so that he could join the growing throng of Nebby Debbies* outside in the lawn.

*(This is Pittsburghese for nosy motherfuckers.)

“Who owns that car?” our neighbor Ruth asked.

“It’s the guy visiting the blond lady who lives in that house down there,” Henry said with his chest sticking out. “He’s from Virginia.”

“How do you know?” I asked him, furrowing my eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I saw the guy pull up when I was cutting the grass. He’s Asian. And he has Virginia plates.”

“Cutting the grass,” you guys. I’M SO SURE. And not from the binoculars in the attic window.

“It could be a rental,” Neighbor Daughter said, recently returned from her citizen’s arrest mission. But Henry argued that it wasn’t a rental and told her all of the reasons he knows this, the number one reason being we’re basically Budget Rental’s best customers because our car is a piece of a shit. This was like the best night ever for Henry because he got to brag about knowing things that no one would typically give a shit about.

(And I still don’t.)

Just then, the cops came back and they had the Perp! I cheered with an overdose of faux-enthusiasm.

“He wasn’t going nowhere,” the main cop laughed. Even his laughter had a Yinzer-accent. “He’s piss ass drunk!”

Henry told the cop that he knocked on the car owner’s front door several times to no avail and then explained again that the car belongs to her visiting friend and we’re all like, “OK we get it, just put it in next month’s Brookline ‘zine, why don’t you.” Fuck, Henry. Maybe you should just move to Wisteria Lane.

“Maybe they’re busy,” the cop said with a sleazy wink and then laughed so hard, donut crumbs shot out of his mouth. And then he took Henry’s official statement! Talk about the best belated birthday gift of all time: Henry got to be a motherfucking witness to a hit and run. HOT DAMN.

Oh, you want to know what I was doing this whole time? Just the usual: getting in the way and giddily laughing alone the whole time. I even jumped and clapped a few times because sometimes living on this street rules. LOOK AT US ALL COMING TOGETHER IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE!

And then the tow truck arrived! OH WHAT A NIGHT! Henry loves talking to men of these sorts of vocations! While the cop went back to his vehicle to write up the report—-or Instagram his Styrofoam coffee cup, who knows—Henry and the tow truck driver got to stand around and make idle conversation about the damage done to the Lexus. I kept hearing Henry “hyuk hyuk hyuk’ing” so they must have been getting along pretty well. I just asked Henry what else they were talking about and he claims the tow truck driver was telling Henry about how busy of a night he had the night before. OK HENRY, SURE, WE BELIEVE YOU. You weren’t talking about car crash porn AT ALL.

The cop thanked us all and I over-zealously said you’re welcome! because standing around outside doing nothing other than not wearing a bra deserves appreciation, but no one could hear me over Henry’s bristling moustache and rippling ego; it was clear that no more excitement was going to evolve from this particular episode, so everyone started to wander off back to their homes and Tourette’s lumbered off into the horizon with whatever mysterious bag he had been clutching the whole time.

“Yinz have a good night!” the tow truck driver called out to us. I have never been called “yinz” so much in one night. God love Pittsburgh.

“True or false,” I demanded later when we were getting ready for bed. “This is the most excitement you’ve had since THE SERVICE.”

“It wasn’t that exciting,” Henry sighed.

Oh, but his weener told a different story.

Here is another weekend’s worth of Henry Bombs! I wish I had managed to get a “your tattoo cost HOW much?!” shot but I told him via text after I had already paid for it, haha. Sorry, Henry, next time I’ll just get my cell mate to do it for cheaper. 

The “Henry With A Mouthful of Pretzels, Yelling At Chooch For God Knows What” shot.   

The “Henry Treated Himself to a Snickerdoodle & I’m Going to Steal It” shot.  

The “10 Minutes Early Picking Up Chooch From Piano TIME FOR A QUICK NAP” selfie.    

The “Hand It Over, Henry Warbucks” shot.   

The “Nap #2 With a Bowl & His Phone” shot.   

The “Henry Oversees the Jewelry Party” guest shot by Monica!   The “Henry Listens To Wendy’s Sales Pitch” shot. 

The “Just One of the Girls” shot (Wendy moved at the last minute).    

The “Blocking Henry From Getting Stoked” shot. 

The “Henry Returns A Thing At Lowe’s” shot. 

The “THERE HAS TO BE A SPECIAL MIX FOR SUCCULENTS BUT WHERE IS IT I WILL NOT ASK” shot. 

The “Henry Waits For Someone Else To Ask For Succulent Dirt & Then Follows Them To It” shot.    

The “Concerned That His Green Tea Froyo Tastes Carbonated” shot. (He later asked the Froyo purveyors if it was supposed to taste like that and they admitted that they have never tried the green tea but that it is supposed to be slightly tart which hello, I am no stranger to the Froyo  industry but I know the difference between purposely tart and SPOILED so hopefully we survive the impending digestive backlash and then own our own Sincerely Yogurt franchise.)

(Asian Froyo joints are better.)

  
The “Henry Is Potting My Plants Because Ew Dirt” shot. 

BONUS: #thingsinhenrysbeard

And that was Henry’s weekend. Actually these are all from Sunday. 

I didn’t want to wait until #mcm (MAN CRUSH MONDAY) to post this, so let’s pretend like today is #fgf (FAVORITE GUY FRIDAY).

When I first started dating Henry, I was 21 and he was 35. A LOT of people were like, “Ha-ha, say goodbye to your life. Have fun listening to country music and drinking IC Light.” Because that’s what all 35-year-old men do? And I guess I was a little worried at first, because I loved road-tripping for concerts back then. My friend Wonka and I would drive all over to see our favorite band at the time, Cold. In the first few months we were together, Cold was playing in Hershey, PA and Wonka wanted to go. I was worried that Henry would be like, “YOU ARE NOT DRIVING THAT FAR AWAY WITH ANOTHER MAN.” But Henry understood even then how much these things meant to me, and he was OK with me going.

(I mean, I totally would have still went anyway because that’s the kind of selfish, arrogant, solipsistic fucking bitch that I am!)

But then Wonka started dating the future mother of his children, and our roadtrips came to an end. I had no idea that Henry would ever want to do these things with me, because I was so used to having completely separate lives from every boyfriend I ever had. But by that May, there we were, driving to Wisconsin to see Cold. And there have been many, many more concert-spurned road trips since then, whether he liked it or not!

Wednesday night, I was watching music videos on YouTube, because that’s just what I do, when Henry said, “Look.” He was holding up his phone to show me that this year’s Riot Fest line up was finally announced. I ran over and snatched his phone from him and immediately started freaking out because FAITH NO MORE. I had a feeling that they were going to be there so my eyes were blind to everything else on the list but that for the first ten minutes. And then the more I looked at the lineup, the more I freaked out. THE NOSTALGIA FACTOR IS OFF THE FUCKING CHARTS.

I started freaking the fuck out and chanting PLEASE CAN WE GO PLEASE CAN WE GO PLEASE CAN WE GO CAN WE CAN WE CANWECANWECANWE over and over but I was pretty sure the answer was going to be no because we kind of broke the bank when we went last year. But you know, I’m immature, head-in-the-clouds Erin and I don’t think about things like RENT and GROCERIES and BILLS. I was just about reaching Veruca Salt levels of brattiness when Henry got up from the couch in a huff and said, “Don’t start!” So I sat there, staring at the lineup and crying because these are things I cry about, when I got a text from Henry, who was in the kitchen. IT WAS A SCREENSHOT OF THE TICKET CONFIRMATION OMG CAN I KEEP THIS MAN FOREVER?! I guess he knew for awhile that going again was inevitable, so he was prepared.

And it’s a good thing, because I’ve had the days requested off from work since January.

I know I bitch about him being a killjoy a lot, but even though he really doesn’t like these things at all, he still does them because he is an A+ kind of guy. And I am super lucky to be with someone who maybe doesn’t  share the same passion for music as I do, but he understands that it is a necessity for me, like food and water. I crave this stuff! I can’t tell you how many times I have gone back and looked at pictures from last year’s Riot Fest because it puts me in a good mood. That weekend was so close to perfection, and I can’t wait to do it all over again with my frowning sidekick! #blessed

(Snoop Dogg is performing Doggystyle in its entirety. My 1994-self is FUCKING FANNING HERSELF with her Snoop lyric-doodled science folder.)

I am going to be so nice to him for the next several days months. Take all the naps you want, Big Guy!

***

I can’t wait for another 3-days’ worth of frowns! 

So yeah, naysayers: 14 years later and I’m having fun listening to whatever music I want while Henry drinks craft beer.  

Another weekend is in the books, so here is the latest collection of Henry Bombs, followed by the beginnings of a brand new Henry Torture Experiment, yay! Who doesn’t like torturing Henry!?

The “Why Am I Driving You to Work When There’s a Perfectly Good Transit System Within Walking Distance From Our House and Now I’m Going To Get All Stressed Out By the Jaywalkers Downtown” shot.

The “Running Out Of the House For Ice Cream & Leaving Henry Behind To Turn Everything Off In the House & IT LOOKS LIKE HE MISSED A LIGHT” shot.

The “Shit, Henry Busted Us & Thinks He’s Cool By Flipping Off the Camera” shot.

The “My Ice Cream Is Better Than Henry’s” shot.

The “Checking Yelp For Somewhere ‘Weird & Wood-Paneled’ To Eat” shot, per my snippy instructions.

The “We Just Drove 90 Minutes To Eat 10 Minutes From Our House Because Henry Can’t Read My Mind” shot, alternately titled the “Another Chapter In Chooch’s Memoirs” shot.

The “Wearing White Socks and Black Shoes To the Petting Zoo” shot.

The “Feeding A Thing Without Getting Backtalk Is Weird” shot.

The “Quietly Calculating All the $$$ Spent This Weekend” shot.

The “It’s Memorial Day & I’ll Get An Order Of Wings With My Burger If I Want To” shot.

The “Driving Thru the Countryside and Daydreaming About Running Away and Hiding Out On a Farm” shot.

***

YOU GUYS! Here I am to introduce two new Henry series: #ThingsInHenrysBeard and #WhileHenrySleeps

I didn’t want him to feel left out after Chooch and I had our fun with face sprinkles, so I waited for him to go to bed Saturday night before gently dropping pinches of sprinkles onto his wiry beard. This picture actually features my second attempt, because after I initially got his beard suitably sprinkled, he subconsciously swatted at his face, brushing most of them out of his beard and onto his chest. I was trying so hard not to laugh that I had to keep leaving the bedroom and thank god I was so close to the bedroom because I came super close to pissing my pants.

I finally completed my mission, snapped a photo, and then went to sleep. The next morning, he woke up to go to the bathroom. Sadly, all of the sprinkles had fallen off in his sleep, but when he came back into bed, he pulled up the comforter and a shower of sprinkles flew into the air. He somehow didn’t notice this and proceeded to lay down on a bed of candy decor. Then he rolled over and his bare back was speckled with them, so I started cracking up.

“What?” he mumbled. And I just laughed harder and harder until I was choking. Finally, I showed him the picture and you guys, he actually TRIED NOT TO SMILE. You just never which way things are going to go with him!

He fell asleep on the couch yesterday because I guess he just had too much Memorial Day fun. I used this as an opportunity to paint his nails. He was less forgiving about this, though.

kbye.

The “STOP ASKING ME WHO MY FAVORITE DANCE GAVIN DANCE SINGER IS” shot.

The “Making Henry Walk To the Ice Cream Shop With Us Because I Don’t Feel Like Dealing With Paying” shot.

The “NO I DON’T WANT ANY ICE CREAM!!!!” shot.

Bonus: The “Henry Leads Us Safely Across the Street” un-bomb shot.

The “THANKS FOR PAYING FOR OUR ICE CREAM, HENRY” shot.

The “I Caught Henry Watching Kurt Travis YouTube Videos!” shot.

The “Henry’s Son Showed Up Unexpectedly!” bonus Blake bomb!

The “There’s Nowhere to Sit in the Living Room, Beard Stroking” shot.

The “OMG IS HENRY DEAD!?!??!?!” shot.

  
The “We Never Had to Wait to Cross the Street in THE SERVICE” shot. 

The “I Was On the Wrong Side of the Booth So Chooch Assisted In Capturing Henry At the Salad Bar” shot.   

The “Henry’s Got a Gun” shot. 

This is my new favorite thing & I get so gleeful over it. He busts me 75% of the time now though, even when I think I’m being slick. “Did you get your damn picture?” he’ll mutter.  

The “Henry Has to Rest His Glasses On Top of His Head In Order to Look at His Phone” shot.

BONUS VIDEO: The “Ignoring the Pretend Concert I Have Going On In Front of Him” live action shot.

The “Henry Photo-Bombed Our Spoon Selfie” shot.

The “Henry’s Making Me Iced Coffee Because I’m ‘Too Weak'” shot.

The “Henry’s Playing Some Stupid Video Game in a Spoon” shot.

The “Driving Miss Erin to DelGrosso’s Amusement Park” shot.

The “Yeah bitch, buy us that ice cream” shot.

The “Being a Good Boy & Calling His Mama on Mother’s Day” shot.

The “Too Lame to Ride the Wacky Worm” shot.

The “We’re on the Crazy Mouse But Where’s Henry?” shot.

The “Welp, Chooch is Riding the Pirate Ship So I Guess I’ll Have to Eat His Ice Cream Cone” shot.

The “Holding Our Shit While We’re on the Wacky Worm Again” shot.

The “Washing Windows with Vinegar Which Is ‘Just As Good As Windex But Safer'” shot.

Disclaimer: I can’t write objectively about Dance Gavin Dance and this post is all over the place because I’m like a little kid who just ate three meals of candy.

Before I get into the juicy details of last week’s Dance Gavin Dance show, please indulge me while I explain the sordid history of this band and what it has been like to be a fan: I go through a lot of phases, musically, but my love for Dance Gavin Dance has only gotten stronger over the years. From the moment I first heard them in my car, driving home from Cincinnati in the winter of 2008, I was entranced. I had just randomly downloaded a bunch of their stuff based on their band name and the fact that they were listed on PureVolume as post-hardcore and that is MY FAVORITE GENRE. (The amount of times I have struggled to explain what ‘post-hardcore” means to people at work is hilarious; it’s kind of like the new “wtf is emo?” in that it’s almost impossible for me to put into layman’s terms. Wiki it, I guess? Good luck!) Downtown Battle Mountain is right up there on my Stranded on an Island album list.

This was also, sadly, the start of a 7-year relationship-threatening obsession with their original clean vocalist, Jonny Craig. Thankfully, he’s no longer in DGD, which is great because I hate him now and he could have easily destroyed DGD.

Jonny era:

To this day, I have yet to hear another band that sounds even remotely like them and, in my opinion, they have only gotten better with age. The only time my love for them was strained was after they kicked out Jonny for the first time and replaced him with Kurt Travis for two albums. Look, I LOVE Kurt Travis. But during that time, their screamer Jon Mess had also left the band and his role has always been one of my favorite parts of DGD. (In fact, I think I actually fangirl over Jon more than anyone else in the band.) I only saw them live twice during the Kurt Travis-era, and ironically once was a tour where past, present and future DGD vocalists were all on: Jonny Craig was there with Emarosa, Kurt with DGD, and Tilian was there with Tides of Man. (This was in 2009, and it was also the first time I ever saw Of Mice & Men and then fell in love with Of Machines, who are sadly no longer together.) It just didn’t click with me, though I have much more appreciation for the Kurt albums now than I did then.

Kurt era:

The summer of 2010, they brought Jonny back for a new album and a tour and this was supposed to be their swan song; Jon Mess came back too and it was like the biggest music orgasm for me. I got to see Jonny perform with DGD twice after that and it was like a dream come true, and then they announced that they were going to write another new album with Jonny and it seemed like their future was so bright. Except that Jonny is a forever fuck-up and they ended up having to kick him out again, in the middle of a tour. It seemed like this was it for them for sure. Maybe Jon, Will, and Matt would just make their side project, Secret Band, their priority.

But then they announced that Tilian Pearson, formerly of Tides of Man, would be their new singer. I was on the fence. In 2011, I saw Emarosa with Tilian as an interim singer; Jonny, who was trying to be in Emarosa and DGD at the same time that year, was forced off the Emarosa tour and into detox on the same day as the Pittsburgh show. Tilian’s brother’s band at the time was also on that tour, so I guess that’s how Tilian came into play. Tilian did fine…but he wasn’t Jonny. And this is how I felt the first time I saw him with DGD at the Altar Bar. It felt wrong to me. But you guys, when they eventually recorded new music with Tilian, everything fell into place and I made a statement that I never thought I would say: Tilian is my favorite DGD singer. They just sound so cohesive with him, and he has really gotten more comfortable with performing the old stuff too. All of that said, it has been a really rewarding time to be a DGD fan. I’m Team Tilian, and DGD remains one of my favorite bands of all time.

(Henry is probably reading this and thinking, “Trust me, this is the short version.”)

Tilian era:

ANYWAY! I’m so excited because their second album with Tilian just came out in April and they were here in Pittsburgh last Sunday! I had butterflies in my stomach all weekend and kept shouting, “AREN’T YOU SO EXCITED?!?” in Henry’s face. Surprisingly, he doesn’t hate them like you would expect him to. He admitted a few years ago that he kind of liked them and I just knew it. The Robot With Human Hair Pt 2 was his ringtone for me for awhile, for Christ’s sake! He just doesn’t like being the token Old Man at all of their shows, is all.

• Henry was annoyed because instead of sitting in the car and waiting for doors to open, he had to stand in line with all of the kids. To be fair, the average age was probably about 24, but I guess when you’re as old as Henry, even that constitutes as a “kid.” There was this one teenage boy in front of us, though. His name was Collin and I know this because his mom pulled up alongside the line in her mom-wagon and started shouting, “Collin! Collin! COLLIN!” until he dejectedly left the line and walked over to her car with his head down. “I can’t wait to do that shit to Chooch,” I laughed. “Yeah, except you’ll be calling from another part of the line,” Henry mumbled. And this is probably true. Unless he starts listening to crappy bands when he’s older.
• I had a tiny container of miniature Altoids, and I tried to get Henry to pretend like they were Grown-Up drugs with me, but he was like, “Don’t be stupid.”
• As soon as we got inside Mr. Small’s, I saw Christopher Kim at the Polyphia merch booth and I got so excited! He recently made waves for leaving Jonny Craig’s current band, Slaves, and has been pretty candid on Twitter about how fucked that band is so of course I love him because Team Anyone But Slaves. I was too shy to say anything to him so I took the creepy way out and tweeted about seeing him and then he favorited it so basically, we met.
• Henry plied me with Angry Orchard in an attempt to get me to stop talking a mile a minute. I WAS SO EXCITED!!!!
• Stolas was the opening band. We saw them last September with Hail the Sun and Icarus the Owl and I loved them immediately. They’re on Will Swan’s label, Blue Swan, and are part of this intricate, technical post-hardcore sub genre that I feel like DGD should take full credit for; they’re the godfathers of this style at this point. I’ve never been a fan of prog-rock in the traditional sense, but when elements of this style is car-crashed with a post-hardcore foundation, it makes me want to start punching faces. Stolas was the perfect way to start this night. My favorite part about them is that some parts of their songs downright sound like incantations. Henry’s review: “No.”
• I like to call Henry “bae” sometimes, ironically of course, just to annoy him. But when I’m really giddy, and I was Really Giddy, I apparently called him my ride or die. “Can I choose ‘or die’?” he mumbled, while continuing to look at whatever uninteresting info his phone was showing him.
• A band I used to love was playing whilePolyphia was setting up and I played Henry’s favorite game with him, which is “Trying to Get Henry to Guess the Band & Making Him Feel Like Shit When He Fails.” Here are the clues I gave him:
  • This album is called The Ugly Organ.
  • Henry hates them.
  • Tim Kasher is their singer.
  • His other band is The Good Life.
  • We saw them at Coachella in 2004.
  • Saddlecreek.
  • “My ego’s like my stomach– it keeps shitting what I feed it.”
    • If you guessed Cursive, then you have one more point than Henry does.
• Hail the Sun is amazing. That’s literally the note I wrote myself in my phone. This was my fourth time seeing them and they just keep getting better. We saw their drummer/singer Donovan outside of the venue when we were in line and even Henry knew who he was because HE CAN’T ESCAPE THIS SCENE. Imagine how boring his life would be if he was with a girl who only listened to the radio. Boring, but probably a lot happier and with less headaches, haha. Henry’s review: “*shrugged* It’s too early in the morning for this. You should have been a news reporter.”
• The crowd was so much better than at the Circa Survive show earlier in the week. I was basically in love with every one there. Maybe those really were Grown-Up Drugs in my Altoids tin….
  • The cider also helped.
• Polyphia, holy shit. This was my first time seeing them and they blew my fucking mind. Like CHON, they’re also 100% instrumental. The crowd went apeshit over them and I think it says a lot about the talent of a band when they can capture the attention of young people without gimmicks or, you know, a vocalist. Henry did not like them, but that means nothing.

And then……..DGD!

Here are the notes I had in my phone:

• THUG CITY
• EVERYTHING IS AMAZING
• PERFECT CROWD
• JONNY WHO
• TILIAN IS THE BEST

Oh no, tangent: What I love the most about DGD fans is that most of them are music geeks in that they understand and appreciate the technicality involved in DGD’s music. These are the kinds of people who want to meet Will Swan after the show to talk about time signatures and ask him about his pedals. This is why I think that DGD is so fucking underrated. They’ve been unfairly marginalized and stuffed into a generic scene pigeonhole, which is why I think that their fan base remains young. Young people keep their minds open when it comes to music. Granted, there were some people at the show around my age, but it made me wonder: why hasn’t their fan base grown with them? Why do people hit a certain age in their 20s and just abandon what they used to love? I hope that doesn’t happen to me, ever.

DON’T PANIC, I’VE GOT A PLAN:

Tilian can sing any of the Jonny-era songs with motherfucking panache.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY! This post is all over the place, just like their music, and just like my brain. One of the things that I miss most about Barb not working at The Law Firm anymore is that I wasn’t able to go to work the next day and vomit all of my feelings onto her desk. She was always so good about patiently listening to me jaw off about DGD! I remember telling her a long time ago that I liked this music because it panders to the dysfunction in my head; it’s what my brain would play if you plopped it on a turntable and put the needle down.

“I just love Jon Mess so much!” I shouted to Henry. “Did you know he’s a genius?” I LOVE REMINDING HENRY OF THAT! I have never loved a screamer so much before.

I didn’t stop moving the entire night and my body spent the next two days reminding me of Sunday’s perfection. I think I smiled all day long on Monday. MONDAY! Come at me, work week; I just saw DGD.

I’m so proud of this band for powering through all of the shit and turmoil and managing to create two beautiful works of art with Tilian. It feels so good to be a DGD fan. One of these days, I’m going to finally get that Robot with Human Hair tattoo. He might be holding a sword-speared strawberry.

Henry’s review: “I’ve heard all of these songs. Many times.”

**Party Peeps**

• Zac
• Lucy
• Olivia & Sophia
• Owen
• Jolee
• Sharyn
• Harland
• Kara
• Chris and Monica
• Corey
• Janna

Chooch decided a while back that he wanted to have a laser tag birthday party, even though none of us have played before. Believe me, I was fine with this because it meant SMALL. As in: FEW KIDS. I’m not sure who was more excited the day of his party: Chooch or me.

Once everyone arrived, our personal party coordinator came in and led us to the laser tag holding cell, where she bumbled through the rules of the game and pretty much had us utterly confused. We split into two teams without hesitation: Awesome Adults vs. Dumb Kids. And then Janna “accidentally” gouged the back of my arm with her stupid laser gun and I was like “Bitch, best count your blessings that we’re on the same damn team.”

But then I noticed that after Henry was done helping all of the kids suit up, he stayed over on their side. “C’mon, Erin. They have to have at least one adult or it won’t be fair!”

Yeah, exactly! Why give them a chance!?

I was instantly nervous about this. Henry and I being on opposing teams means that Super Competitive Extreme Asshole Erin comes out. I was hoping that we could be on the same team so that I wouldn’t have to get stressed out and possibly risk eviction from Laser Storm and/or losing a friend. (I really think this is why my friend Stacey hasn’t come to one of my game nights since 2009. I get real ugly.) So look, I’m competitive in general, but as soon as the competition involves Henry as an opponent, I take it to new levels. Any old friends reading this remember the dreaded New Years Eve Trivial Pursuit debacle that resulted in me flipping over the game board (the table was too heavy to flip) and screaming about how everyone hates me all over some question about Yoshi? And then spending the next year constantly bringing up the fact that not a single person there that night cared enough to stop me from driving home drunk and psychotic?

O MEM’RIES.

My mantra is always, “I don’t care if I lose as long as Henry doesn’t win.” And the sad thing is that he genuinely always wants me to win!

I’m sorry, Henry fans, but as soon as our respective team doors opened to the laser tag arena, Henry went from being my loving life partner/father of my child/all-around Jeeves to motherfucking Bin Laden. I COULDN’T WAIT TO SHOOT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!

One of the twins was smart and chose my team. She said she didn’t want to be on her sister’s team, and I understood. SHE WANTED TO WIN.

Once we were in the darkened room, a strange combination of panic and adrenaline melted over me and I realized I forgot everything we learned, all of the rules, all of the objectives. But then I remembered that I had but one mission: KILL HENRY. So I put my blinders on to everything but Henry’s dumb head and I shot that motherfucker every single chance I got. I even did the whole run-dive-shoot thing at one point and sincerely hurt my hip but I think my shot hit him so it was obviously worth it.

Oh, and no big deal, but my team won.

Because Henry is a cheap-ass, he only paid for ONE ROUND of laser tag. And apparently one round is only like 15 minutes! (Which apparently is long enough for my hair to stick to my neck with war-sweat.) Luckily, we had the party room for an hour and a half though, so we didn’t have to kick anyone out after the game was over.

Back in the party room, Party Warden passed out everyone’s score cards and I was pleased to see that I at least beat Janna. I don’t think any of the kids so much as glanced at their score cards, but us adults studied and compared ours obsessively for a good ten minutes. Monica was extremely disturbed by the inaccuracy of her score card and I think it came close to ruining her whole day. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many times you hit base, because it’s worth ZERO POINTS,” she announced bitterly.

Asshole Henry shot me one time more than I shot him, so that sucked. But the real victory was that Henry was NOT the MVP of the whole entire game—Corey was! SUCK IT, HENRY!

But then Corey kept bragging about being MVP and I was like, “UGH SUCK IT, COREY!”

I took this picture shortly after I burst Corey’s MVP bubble by snapping, “Whatever, at least I can see colors.” #mybrotheriscolorblind

In this picture, you will note Henry’s naturally-sour face looking even more acerbic. Apparently, he had taste-tested the Sierra Mist and was appalled. “IT HAS NO TASTE!” he said repeatedly until people eventually started looking around the room and saying, “Do you hear something? Is someone talking to us? Oh, it’s just Henry.”

He ended up sending back the Sierra Mist because it was “just carbonation.” He was a huge dick about it too. The party warden was like, “Shucks sir, I have no idea what you’re bitching about but sure, I’ll bring you another pitcher if it means you’ll stop twitching your molester ‘stach in my general direction.” That broad could not wait for our 90 minutes to expire.

If Henry had a blog, his version of this day would be all about how he saved the children from imbibing defective soft drinks, spent so much money in order to buy his son’s happiness, and probably some boring anecdote about when he was in THE SERVICE not fighting in a war. Laser tag was probably more dangerous and combative than anything he did while “SERVING.”

Included in the party package was a cake, and it was actually not as disgusting as I imagined it would be. We sang the weirdest version of Happy Birthday to Chooch, and I have no idea who set the tone, but it sounded like a fucking funeral dirge. (See also: Nick Cave singing Gregorian chants to a dead person.) I thought maybe it was just me, but afterward, everyone seemed to mutually agree that it was weird and the party warden looked nervous.

In this picture, Monica is using the calculator on her phone to work out what her actual score was since none of her base hits made it on her score card.

All of the kids got tokens for the game room afterward, and there were a bunch left over so the rest of us practically mauled Henry for some.

Monica was obsessed with this old broad with her nose in a Danielle Steele book who had the audacity to make disgusted scowls at all of the children running around making gleeful sounds. She was sitting so close to the skee ball row that it’s surprising that no one tried to roll one of the balls off her surly, disapproving face.

“Seriously? You expect to be able to read your book peacefully in a LASER TAG ARENA?!” Monica scoffed. “Please take a picture of her,” she whispered to me.

I don’t remember being so terrible at skee ball. I gave the rest of my tokens to some child.

Chris texted me before the party and said that one of the gifts she bought him might be a bit girlish, and should she wait until the other kids weren’t around before giving it to him? I said no, because I’m always up for watching my child being humiliated, but it turned out to be a “yummy crochet” kit and he could barely contain all of the stoked feelings. Chooch mentioned not too long, at dinner with Chris and Monica, that he wanted to learn how to crochet (specifically, the Japanese style of crocheting, amigurumi). Of course, this conversation turned weird, with the suggestion that Chris become possessed by the ghost of Henry’s late grandmother in order to teach Chooch how to crochet.

Hey, if you read the post about Chooch’s actual birthday, then you already know the spoon story. But here it is again, anyway, BECAUSE I LOVE TELLING IT! We had a small family party on Chooch’s real birthday, and by the end of the night, he was exhausted and cranky. Some might say his “inner Erin” was coming out. When he walked past Corey on his way to bed, he stopped and in this totally shitty, sarcastic tone, said, “Oh and thanks for much for the present, Corey.”

“Your mom said I could just bring your present to your laser tag party next week!” Corey cried defensively.

“Whatever, it’s probably just going to be a spoon,” Chooch spat in a spoiled tone. And as he began to walk away, he paused and added, “For me to shove up my ass!” He wasn’t even trying to be funny, but Corey, Janna and I all fucking lost it. It was late, we were slap-happy, and then that happened and it turned into A Thing.

Corey made a note in his phone that just said “Get spoon.”

And oh, he got a spoon, alright. Corey had it tucked in the gift bag with the actual presents he bought Chooch, but I suggested that we take the real presents out and hide them, so it looked like literally all he got Chooch was a spoon.

When Chooch pulled it out of the bag, he was so confused. I couldn’t believe he had forgotten in a week! His cousin Zac said, “Is that for your mom to beat you?” and all of his friends were just like, “Your parties are so weird.” It wasn’t until he read the card that he realized it was from Corey and then it all kind of clicked, so he stormed off to “have words” with him. Total highlight of the party.

The Spoon. It has become something of a phenomenon in our house. We take #spoonselfies now and Henry is making a plaque for it so that when Chooch isn’t toting it around, he’ll have a place to hang it for the night.

In this short video, you can see the tail end of Monica saving my face from acquiring a basketball imprint, laser tag sounds (that’s my dumb voice screaming “OH MY G—-” at the end), and the Unwrapping of the Spoon. I wish I had a video of the super-sad Zoloft commercial happy birthday serenade, but COREY deleted it because he didn’t like how his VOICE sounded! Ugh, the worst!

***

Chooch just strutted past in his underwear and I asked him if he had anything to add while I’m writing this. He said, “Yeah, thanks for the spoon, Corey.” And then as he ascended the staircase to his room, he mumbled, “I love it.”

I still have no idea how we managed to not get kicked out.

Let’s recover from the weekend with a new collection of Henry Bombs!

The “Henry’s Not Sitting In My New Car” shot.

The “Have Fun With Your New Car; I’ll Just Ride Chooch’s Bike” shot.

The “Treat Yo’Self to a Frosty” shot.

The “Taking a Stroll Down Memory Lane at His Sister’s House” shot.

The “Henry’s  Arms Are Akimbo Because He Knows What I’m Doing” shot.

The “Getting the Rocks Out of His Shoes” shot.

The “Attending a Show at Mr. Small’s Twice In Less than a Week, FML” shot.

***

In related my news, my friend Elaine suggested that I start a Henry’s Frowns Facebook page, and I’m totally on board with that. It could be a REAL LIFE CLUB! With MEMBERSHIP CARDS! And STICKERS! And NEWSLETTERS with WORD SEARCHES!

Me, looking around at all of the groups of friends who were stoked to be seeing Circa Survive together: Don’t you wish we had a crew?

Henry: Nope. I wish you did.

*********

Tuesday, April 28th marked my 4th time seeing Circa Survive in the span of one year. (The 6th time seeing Anthony Green in general, though, if you count the Sound of Animals Fighting and Saosin.) And it’s  too early in the morning for me to attempt and count how many times since 2005. Suffice to say, I really love this band and I was giddy as fuck all day at work because I was going to see them that night.

We went straight to Millvale after Henry picked me up from work and ate at the Grant Bar & Lounge. How have I been going to shows at Mr. Small’s for more than a decade and never eaten here?! And to think we were originally going to eat at the Subway across the street.

This place was everything I love in a dive: First, you have to walk through the bar to get to the dining room so you can take a quick tour of the town’s underbelly. And the walls are faux-stone! It was so Bavarian! I LOVE BAVARIAN.

Old school waitress buzzer!

I can’t really explain why else I liked this joint so much, other than you could tell it hadn’t been renovated since before I was born. I love dark, cave-like restaurants.

Henry had a burger and I had a grilled portabello sandwich with homemade onion rings. The food was fine (my Yelp nemesis gave them a thirty paragraph review all to say that his experience was “fair, a three-star experience, the Thesaurus taught me 92 new words as I was writing this review.” Fuck, I hate that man so badly. Of course, he gave 5 stars to the place in Millvale I originally wanted to try, so now I’m glad we didn’t go there), but it was really the ambiance that made it special for me. (Until the bitch-baby in the booth across from us started acting like an asshole and of course no one cared because she was the granddaughter of one of the waitresses and every single person eating there was a townie and used to it.)

We were about to pay the check when I overheard the old broads in the booth behind us inquire about the desserts, and our waitress started bragging about the coconut cream pie. THAT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE PIES. But it’s really easy to get a shitty piece. They ended up ordering it and when I saw that the topping was whipped cream and not meringue (a thousands fist-shakes in the face of meringue), I had to order a piece ASAP.

And I shouldn’t have, because my stomach was already emitting a series of beeps and shocks to remind me that it was over capacity.

But, pie.

COCONUT CREAM pie.

It was the best damn coconut cream pie I have ever had, and I felt so strongly about this that I wrote a “Dear Grant’s Bar” love letter on the back on the check. (Henry was just happy that it was a positive ode for once, and not one of my infamous THIS PLACE SUCKS I HOPE YOU DIE death threats that I may have been known to scrawl from time to time before dashing out the door.)

However, those last forkfuls of food (what would my Yelp nemesis have used here? Vittles? Sustenance? Something Arabic?) really sent my digestive system into overdrive. I thought I would feel better once we walked to Mr. Small’s afterward, because walking off a meal typically helps me, but no. I spent the rest of the night in deep regret. And by regret I mean that I reached a point where I couldn’t even stand up straight. And of course it was a sold out show, and the balcony area was VIP-only that night.

We ended up all of the way in the front row, but over the side, so I could lean against the stage all night. And lean I did. At some points, I was also sagged and half-collapsed across it, too. The pain was real and just kept getting worse.

The opening band was CHON. I knew that Henry wouldn’t like them. I whispered, “FYI, they don’t sing” when we were waiting for them to come out. Henry HATES that. But I have been following them on Facebook for a few years and was excited to finally see them. I heard a girl nearby ask the guy next to her if they were the same style as Circa Survive. The guy and I both laughed at the same time, and he said, “Uh, no. Not at all.”

I’m sorry, Henry, but they were pretty sick to watch and I felt like they were channeling Chuck Mangione at times. I don’t listen to this style of music very often, but it served as a nice reminder that vocals aren’t always necessary to feel something, and I am definitely guilty of focusing too much on the singing sometimes.

Balance and Composure was next and I have to be honest here: seeing that they were on this tour made me even more excited about it because I have liked them for years yet have somehow never seen them live!

I have also never really paid attention to what they look like, so I was in for a shock when they took the stage because Jon, the singer, looked so much like my co-worker A-ron that I started to wig out a little bit. I kept taking pictures to send to all of my work friends, and the next day 98% of them were like, “Holy shit, are we sure it’s not really A-ron?!” except for TODD who said that it only kind of looked like him, and JEANNIE who frowned and said “not at all” and that it just looked like “an average guy with brown hair.”

“If everyone else said it didn’t look like him, you would say it did,” I said to Jeannie in a huff, which just made her laugh BECAUSE IT’S TRUE! She enjoys being the voice of dissent. But whatever, because when I saw A-ron that day, I said to him, “I’m surprised you’re here today after your big show last night” and then I showed him the picture and A-RON HIMSELF WAS LIKE OMG. But showing him turned out to be a mistake because it totally went to his head and then he kept making air-guitar motions and that was just weird.

Anyway, seeing Balance and Composure was worth the wait. I loved it, even though my stomach was like, “NOW can we go home??”

“Remember that coconut cream pie?” I dreamily said to Henry after CHON, punctuating it with a tiny burp.

“It wasn’t that great,” he mumbled.

Somewhere in between CHON and B&C, the super normal, inoffensive and unassuming girl who was next to me moved to a different spot and before I had the chance to move over into her vacated space, the grossest couple usurped it from me. The girl was about 5 feet tall and had SCENE HAIR. I haven’t seen SCENE HAIR since 2009. It was big and teased and so close to my face that I fixated on ripping out the bobby pins all night. And she stunk, you guys. Like Love’s Baby Soft and filth.

Now I’m picturing her trying to visit someone in jail with all of those bobby pins in her gross hair.

Her boyfriend was this big fucking Jersey Shore gorilla juice head who was wearing a TIGHT DRESS SHIRT.

You know how sometimes you just can’t help it, but you hate someone on sight? These were two people who did not have to give you any more of a reason to hate them other than just existing. AND THEY KEPT LOVINGLY GIVING EACH OTHER PECKS ON THE LIPS as if I wasn’t already having a hard time holding back my bile. I was having vivid hallucinations of yanking the rat’s nest off her head, I just couldn’t stand her. And during B&C, she spotted Anthony Green and squealed to her boyfriend and then jumped up and down and clapped her tiny little scene-fairy hands and I was like OH HOW FUCKING SWEET. YES I’M SURE YOU HAVE A SHOT WITH ANTHONY GREEN.

Then Gorilla Juice Head left her to stand ALL ALONE while he went and purchased practically one of everything from the merch booth for her, which she then kept in a pile on the side-stage area in front of her, and I swear to god she kept looking at me over her shoulder and then sliding her t-shirts closer to her, like yeah bitch, I’m going to steal your XS shirts. I just hated the way she kept looking at me, like I didn’t belong there, and I know it’s awful and I shouldn’t care, but it made me feel really uncomfortable (like I wasn’t already thanks to Grant’s Bar) and I started to feel like everyone was staring at me and that maybe I really didn’t belong there, and I haven’t had such low self-esteem issues like that at a show in a REALLY LONG TIME.

I would have just moved somewhere else, but I really needed to stay where I was because leaning against that stage was like a literal crutch for me, that’s how bad my stomach hurt. It was a sold-out show, and there was quite honestly no better place for me to go, other than home. And I wasn’t leaving without seeing Circa Survive.

Then this happened: 

WOW JUST WOW HENRY.  
Also, I felt disoriented because I swear every time we go to Mr. Small’s, something in there has changed. They’re constantly working on additions, which is great, but it’s made it seem very unfamiliar to me. I felt like a stranger in a place that used to be home.

And this is why this ended up being the worst Circa Survive show I’ve ever gone to. And it’s nothing against the band at all, because they were such amaze much wow as usual. I just could barely enjoy it.

They played all of my faves from Juturna. That album never gets old.

I felt like I was floating out of my body at one point. The pain, so real. Call an ambulance. And Henry kept getting pushed into me and every time I felt his belly pressing into my back I wanted to fucking murder him. I kept turning around to glare at him and he hissed, “What do you want me to do? Do you SEE all of the people in here?!” Ugh, I just didn’t want to be touched! It was terrible! Anthony’s antics were only making it slightly more tolerable, but I admittedly kept praying, “Please let this be the last song” 20 minutes into their set. It was hard enough standing there in physical pain, but the vibe from the crowd exacerbated my discomfort. Even Henry was like, “There were a lot of assholes there that night.” And Henry’s threshold for assholes is much greater than mine.

I was really looking forward to this show. I woke up with that excited thrill in my belly and spent all day at work bouncing in my seat, counting down the minutes. But, I guess they can’t all be wins, right? This show ranks at the bottom, with the 2005 Grog Shop show and last December’s Philly show with Terri tying for first place. That December hometown show was just so right on so many levels.

It took more than  two days for my stomach to make up with me. I don’t know what the hell Grant’s did to me, other than my stomach just being overly sensitive to greasy food these days. That’s one way to keep the weight off!

***

Today, while following Chooch around on a bike trail, I asked Henry some questions about his billionth Circa Survive experience. Here are his scintillating* answers:

*(I did not consult a Thesaurus on that, thx.)

What did you think of CHON?

*gives me a ‘don’t be stupid’ look*

Did you like Balance and Composure?

Ehhhhhhhh. Not really.

If you could use your beard to smuggle anything into a concert, what would it be?

I don’t know. I wouldn’t. Why do I need to smuggle anything in? I just want to get out. 

Do you like old or new Circa Survive songs best?

I don’t know the difference. *mumbles: I can’t believe I’m answering these*

What was the highlight for you? You’re sleeping!!

I’m not sleeping, I’m thinking! I don’t know. Two girls fighting at the end. 

Off the top of your head, name three bands that you dislike seeing even more than Circa Survive.

Whatever that first band was. Crone? Cron? 

Slaves. 

If Anthony Green started a line of barbeque sauces, how tempted would you be to try them?

That’s a weird question. I would try them, but only because it’s barbecue sauce.  

I would pour some on my Anthony Greenbeans and dip my Circa Surfries in it. How does it make you feel when Anthony spreads his mouth open with his hands?

Weird. 

Does it bring back prepubescent memories of sexual confusion?

*sleeping for real*

HENRY!!!

No. 

(I don’t think he understood the question.)

3 comments

The “Henry’s Sleeping; What a Shocker” shot. 

The “Tried To Snap Henry Turning Off the Light Before Leaving the House, But He Moved Too Fast” failed shot. 

The “Henry Driving Professionally to Target” shot. 

 The “Henry Is Picking Out New Underroos” shot.

 The “Henry Can’t Find the Bread Aisle” shot. 

 The “Henry Can’t Believe a Store This Big Has Such a Small Bread Selection” shot. 

 The “‘WHERE ARE THE FUCKING BUNS?!’ Henry Cried” shot. 

 The “Henry Can Use the Self-Check Out Because He’s Not Buying Robitussin” shot. 

The “Henry Just Yelled at Me and Then Looked Around to See If Anyone Heard” shot. 

  
The “Henry’s In the Kitchen Where He Belongs” shot. 

  
The “Henry Thru Church Grass; Don’t Ask” shot. 

  
The “Henry Got Sucked Into Watching a YouTube Video of a Teenage Girl Playing Show n Tell with Everything She Bought at the Grocery Store & Now She’s Showing Him Coachella-Inspired Makeup” shot.