I bought tons of new plants yesterday and I have so much to tell you about them, B(otany)log! But it’s hot in my house and I don’t have much time today, so instead let’s spotlight my favorite one of the lot: CARLY.

My brother Corey wanted me to name one of my plants Carly, after two Carlys: Carly Simon (because of that famed game night where we were playing Catchphrase and all Henry said was, “I don’t know….she’s a singer” and I jokingly screamed, and I mean SCREAMED “CARLY SIMON!” totally randomly and it ended up being right, wtf) and also Carly Rae Jepsen, based on the obsession Chooch and I had with Call Me Maybe during the summer of 2012. (Remember Ross’s Blackberry?!) But that particular plant didn’t look Carly-esque, and that plant became known as Stefano DiMera.

But then I saw this Pink Vygie (heh heh heh vygie) at some nursery yesterday, and I was like, “That’s the one! That’s Carly!” because it’s got the thorny parts to represent Carly Simon bad-assery and unconventional beauty, and the pink stem-things reflect CRJ’s bubblegum pop. (I AM DEEP IN THE PLANT GAME, PEOPLE.)

I didn’t realize that Carly was going to have FLOWERS on her until we got home (because I don’t read the informational tags that come with the plants after that part that states their species) and Henry was like, “Oh wow look the plant bloomed” in his typical “who cares” tone and I was like, “SHE HAS FLOWERS ON HER!?” Even more apropos! WHAT A POP STAR!

I adopted Carly at the perfect time too, because my CRJ obsession has been reactivated with the buzz of her upcoming album release. I AM OBSESSED WITH THE TITLE TRACK “EMOTION”! It reminds me of rollerskating parties at Spinning Wheels in the late 80s and I just feel so happy and excited for summer.

I can’t even say she’s a guilty pleasure, because I feel no guilt. MY LOVE IS UNABASHED.

And then this joint is the perfect couple skate jam and why am I sitting in my dining room writing this and not gliding gracefully around a roller rink RIGHT NOW?! Ugh. Everything I’ve heard from this album gives me those dreamy late-80s pop feels. I am really anxious to hear the tracks she wrote with Tegan and Sara and Sia.

Ugh, I love you, CRJ.

And in case you read the Ross’ Blackberry post and wondered “WELL?! DID HE GET HIS PHONE BACK?!” the shocking conclusion can be read here.

Friends, what we have here is a collection of photos & words from the last week(s) that have been accumulating on my phone and in my head. Let’s address them, shall we?

•  Stella & Dot Thing

I had a super spur of the moment Stella and Dot party for Wendy. My house isn’t air-conditioned and it’s practically summer, so I kept the guest list to a minimum and all snacks provided were store bought. TOTALLY UNLIKE ME. But Henry was like, “I am not slaving away in the hot kitchen, also you spent all of our money last night on your tattoo.” So we had birthday cake frosting Chips Ahoy, cherries, some type of Target scones that were better than the Chips Ahoys, chips, and Bagel Bites which JANNA kept calling PIZZA ROLLS even though there is a HUGE DIFFERENCE, so then Barb was calling them pizza rolls too because she is easily influenced and I was getting so mad, which made MONICA purposely call them pizza rolls because she loves to antagonize me! And Barb spilled her drink within 60 seconds of being in my house! What a Janna-move! And Chooch stole Chris almost immediately because he freaking claims her every time she and Monica come over and I have to fight the urge to cry, “She was my friend first!” But then I usually do end up crying about it. And then I tried to record Janna telling Wendy the story about how she became addicted to ‘Tussin, but she totally flipped out probably because it was time for another slurp and she was getting agitated.

•  Glenn’s New Nickname
  

Flockin Nockin for short, yo.

He called me simple AND slow this week. 

• See Also: Erin&Corey-ish

Finally, a way for the rest of the world to describe my brother and me!

• AMISH PEOPLE MOVIES

For some reason, our TV was like, stuck on the Up channel for days, and I had never heard of this channel before, but it all started with ironically watching 7th Heaven reruns while Henry was making dinner, and letting out dramatic OH NO!s and other such concerned interjections, and then I found myself watching that other 19 kids show, the ones that seem slightly less creepy than the Duggars, and all the while I kept seeing previews for some made-for-TV-movie called Love Finds You In Charm, which was clearly a spin-off of Love Finds You In Sugarcreek. Throw in some Jesus-y commercials, and I eventually realized I was watching some type of Christian person television channel. However, that didn’t stop me from, again, “ironically” watching Love Finds You In Charm, which quickly turned into me getting sucked in and crying, and Henry saying goodnight.  Basically, an Amish bitch chooses the right one, and not the creepy Englisher (THAT’S WHAT THEY CALL US!) who initially wooed her with his pompous talk of The Big City.

Amish people are amazing. I wish I had had an Amish baby. Thanks a lot, Chooch. Way to be born a fucking Englisher.

• ME N BAE

I like calling Henry “bae” because it is annoying as fuck and while I do most things in life with unabashed mediocrity, I am world-class at annoying the fuck out of one Henry Robbins. (And probably a small village full of other people too.) Except now I have a succulent named Bae too. OH WELL, THE MORE BAES THE BAE-IER.

• PGH SERIAL KILLER

One day last week I was carousing around town on my break and I could sense this man keeping pace behind me and naturally I was convinced he was a serial killer and I made Henry stay on the phone with me because I was in a sparsely populated area and totally freaking out and Henry was like “He is not going to kill you. Probably.” And then he wound up STANDING NEXT TO ME while we waited for the crosswalk light thingie to come on and I was trying to take his picture while keeping Henry on the phone and I could hear Henry saying, “Hello? Hello? What are you doing?” So then I let him pass me because I couldn’t take the anxiety of having him behind me anymore and then I was just like FUCK IT and went back to work because I was so stressed out and Glenn and Todd were like, “Why are you back so soon?” except that they really didn’t say that because they never notice when I’m there or not but don’t worry I told them anyway and then I showed them the picture and Todd was like, “That just looks like a man going to get some coffee.”  SO DID TED BUNDY.

• GAVE ALL THE VAMPIRES BACK TO GOD

Cold was my fucking jam for many years in my early 20s and I have been revisiting them a lot lately. So let’s end this shit show with one of my favorite Cold tracks, Sick of Man. Don’t keep your feelings hidden like a psycho, guys.

So, I guess Henry’s 50th birthday was OK! I mean, he seemed OK. But you know Henry — he is impervious to emotion. After waking up early to do laundry and wash the car, coming home and making us breakfast, and then taking three naps, we all went succulent shopping.

“But First We Have to Get Gas!” shot.

We bought plants and went to Goodwill. Henry bought me this weird Mary thing! It was $2 and very heavy! Thanks, Henry Warbucks!

Then we came home and sat there. And then….Hold on a second. Writing about this boring day is making me give birth to yawn triplets. I know, it’s shocking that Henry’s birthday wasn’t more action-packed. Don’t fret, Henrylovers: he probably just waited until I fell asleep before folding laundry and watching home videos of Hot Naybor Chris cutting the grass.

Henry couldn’t decide where he wanted to have his birthday dinner and I was getting hungry so I made some cream of wheat for a snack and he got all bent out of shape. “OH I GUESS WE’RE NOT GOING OUT TO DINNER NOW!” And I was like:

a) YOU WON’T MAKE UP YOUR MIND

b) IT IS JUST CREAM OF WHEAT, WTF WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME FEEL FAT?!

Conveniently, he decided where he wanted to go while I was eating my cream of wheat: Tom’s Diner.

Whomp whomp.

I mean, Tom’s is fine for a cheap lunch or greasy omelettes after a rough night at the Vasta (totally shady bar next door to Tom’s), but I was like, “This is your 5oth birthday bro.” Selfishly, I really wanted Italian food and was trying to psychically sway his decision more toward TILLIE’S but I am really trying to be more mindful of other people instead of (allegedly) making it all about myself. Forcing Chooch to go to a Mexican restaurant for his birthday lunch doesn’t count because I gave birth to him, so….

Needless to say, it was a real struggle for me not to shout bitchily, “TOM’S!? SRSLY!? UGH.”

“It’s cheap and we can walk there so I can have some beers,” Henry rationalized and I was just like, “Fucking fine.”

Trying to be good children and let Henry enjoy his day. It literally gave me a stomachache.

Like, bro. The least you can do is smile.

The “Henry Cut His Finger On His Birthday But I Don’t Know How Because I’m Too Self-Centered To Ask” shot. Also, maybe that’s a smile? Sort of?

The “Reading the Placemat Ads Because You Never Know When You’ll Need Your Chimney Cleaned” shot.

CHIMNEY CLEANED. That’s what they called in THE SERVICE.

Tom’s updated their menu since I was last there but the vegetarian options are still the same: grilled cheese. “moonshine cake” was written on the specials board and I was really excited when the waitress started by telling me it was lemon cake, but then I choked back bile when she got to the “dunked in moonshine” part. I just can’t with moonshine, sorry Appalachians. :(

The “Henry Bought Us Presents On His Birthday” shot.

(Obviously I have that Cure album, but this is the remastered version on vinyl, which I did not previously have. BUT NOW I DO BECAUSE HENRY HAD A BIRTHDAY!)

Then after Henry took his fourth nap, we went to some questionable ice cream place in McKees Rocks where it took us forever to order because some asshole couple who arrived 2 seconds before us ordered DINNER FOR LIKE 7 PEOPLE plus freezes and we were just like, “GO THE FUCK TO MCDONALD’S NEXT TIME, FUCCCCCCKKKKKKK.” They were walking through the parking lot right when we pulled in and Chooch suggested that we run them over and Henry was all, “Haha, they’re not going to take that long.”

FAMOUS LAST WORDS. Shoulda mowed those townies over.

The “Yelling At Chooch For Pretending To Be a Stripper On Some Pole In the Parking Lot of the Ice Cream Shop and Getting White Powdered Paint All Over His Pants and Hands and ‘You Can Just Ride Home In the Trunk, Boy!'” shot.

***

I just asked Henry how his birthday was and he said, “Fine…?”

And napping was his favorite part. “I would say peacefully except someone kept taking pictures of me.”

I fell down the music rabbit hole with my friend Terri again tonight, which is definitely one of my favorite stress-relievers. It’s so much fun to piggyback off each other’s texts, like when she mentions The Dear Hunter and I’m like, “OMG do you remember Dear and the Headlights?!” and then it’s Paper Rivals to Paper Chase, and we both find ourselves remembering bands we haven’t thought about in years while learning about new ones at the same time. I am so thankful for this!

When she mentioned This Day & Age, it was like blinking and being back in 2004. Kind of painful, but familiar and comfortable, making mix CDs and titling them with disparaging phrases about Henry (of course). He would get so pissed too, because his kids (who were still pre-teens back then) would inevitably read the titles and then we would all be sitting in the car, laughing maniacally and ridiculing Henry; god, we were so good at that.

“Were” — lol forever!

(This is actually from 2003, but this expression was accurate for 2004, too. And 2005. And 2006. And…YOU CAN COUNT ON YOUR OWN.)

The whole point of this is that my mind started to spiral out of control with memories of all those old mix CD songs and Orange Island popped into my head and now I can’t stop hearing this song. It also goes to show just how long Rise Records has had me under their spell.

How is this song eleven years old, my god.

In other news, the heat has melted my brain. I spent my whole lunch break today speed-walking around Pittsburgh, looking for plants because this is my life now, scavenging for house plants like it’s the new crack, and I wound up getting slightly sunburnt in the process and I definitely have a strong case of the sun-stupids. HOPE YOU ARE WELL. WRITE BACK SOON. (This is where you fold this up and put it in your pocket.)

Well, guys. I’m still obsessed with my succulents. Earlier tonight, I unwound by taking some of them outside for a PHOTO SHOOT. It gets really wild over here sometimes. And crunk, too, if anyone still says that. Anyway, I named this one Suzy Banyon.

One of the downsides to where I live is that there are ALWAYS people walking by and I kind of felt like I was being watched as I filmed a porno, you know? Because what I was doing was so INTIMATE. I’ve never been one to take photos of flowers and general objects of nature, so that’s how you know I am infatuated with my dumb plant collection. Henry’s mom was here today and right away I shouted COME LOOK AT MY PLANTS OMG. She agreed that Bae is pretty much the shit. 

This babe is Gossamer.

And you already know Bae! THIS IS A CLOSEUP OF BAE.

More Bae!

Sandworm, obvi. [Sidenote: I finally have a use for the root beer jug Janna bought me for my birthday at the Fayette County Fair a few years ago!]

My precious Panne.

PANNE AGAIN. I think Panne might be tied with Bae for my favorite.

Nipsy.

This one is still a John Doe. I have to stare at it intensely some more. EDIT: Monica has dubbed this one Stefano Dimera because, like his namesake from Days of Our Lives, he’s hard to kill! (hopefully.)

Gossamer’s nickname is Nun’s Vag.

Henry just walked by and sighed. That might be my cue.

One day last week, Timehop was all, “Hey crazy lady, here’s a round-up of all the cat-related things you posted about on the Internet on this date in the past.” Look, they’re not ALWAYS cat-related, OK? But this particular Timehop day was prolific with Marcy shout-outs:

For instance, one year ago when she was street-teaming for the new Emarosa release, and two years ago when I was trying to create a real-life Vampire Diaries story-arc to help keep Marcy alive forever.

Real talk: I have been a hot mess since putting Marcy to sleep on 3/31. For some reason, I have been bottling it up this time around. OK, not for “some reason.” I know it’s because part of me is like, “If I pretend like I’m OK, I’ll be OK!” Which is so stupid and I’m normally such a huge advocate for crying it out. Nothing has felt right since she died, and getting that tribute tattoo opened the floodgates. I have cried every day since then and…it has felt pretty good. Even Henry was like, “It’s OK. Just let yourself cry.” AND HE IS A HERO SO HE WOULD KNOW. I really do feel a sense of peace now that I have her furry face permanently etched upon my arm, but man—-I fucking miss her so hard. 17 years is a long time to be around someone every day and then have them taken away, so I know that feeling this way is normal, but I guess I also didn’t want to get to that point where I was making everyone around me feel uncomfortable, because “fuck, she’s crying about her cat again, maybe we should call HR.” I have pretty much stopped painting since her death, too. It’s like, why bother.

I was so nervous, like stomach-churning nervous, all day long prior to my tattoo session, mostly because I hadn’t seen the design yet but also because I knew that I was going to be struggling to hold it all together. As soon as I arrived at Kyklops, Erin pulled the sketch out of a folder and my eyes started to well up so fast because it was like being face-to-face with Marcy again; literally love at first sight. There wasn’t one single thing that I wanted changed. Then, while Erin was prepping, I noticed that she had the most perfect portrait of Mike Patton not only hanging on her wall, but also tattooed on her inner arm. So we talked about Faith No More and that made me start to calm down.

I had over three hours to sit in a chair and think. We talked here and there, but I’m not a big talker while getting tattooed, and we were both in the zone. So I sat quietly and thought a lot about how everything has changed. For the first time in my whole entire life, I am without a pet. It is devastating, but I just don’t feel ready to bring a new one in. I still have guilt. And it feels so raw that as I’m typing this, tears are burning my eyes and my heart seems like it’s actually sighing. So I started thinking of plants, succulents to be specific. I have been wanting to bring some into the house for some time now, mostly because the idea of finding/making/repurposing containers in which to hold them is super appealing to me. Second, they are supposed to be easy. Part C, because they’re pretty weird-looking and I love weird-looking things (see: Henry, jewelry made of teeth, Asian fruit). And most importantly, because I need something to take care of and take my mind off things.

No, plants aren’t replacing my pets, but they’re an adequate fill-in for the time being and they make my house look prettier. (Kind of.)

(Side note: this tattoo has healed almost magically; it’s kind of bizarre. But several people at work even commented on how it already looked healed and I really feel like it’s because Erin is just seriously amazing. Of course, I threw in the fact that it’s because she’s a girl and Glenn was like, “OH PLZ” and made some disgusted noise.)

The very next day, Henry took me to Lowe’s and we bought three succulents: some jade-plant thingie and two cacti.

I am smitten. IS THAT WEIRD? That me, Erin Rachelle Kelly, after 35 years of not giving a basic shit about vegetation, is suddenly O to the Bsessed with these creepy earth-growths? I spend most of my free time Googling about them and perusing succulent shops on Etsy and YES EVEN WATCHING YOUTUBE VIDEOS, which caused Chooch to walk by, stop, roll his eyes and mumble, “Oh Jesus Christ” as some d-bag urban gardener taught me how to propagate*.

*(That means MULTIPLY my succulents, you guys! THEY MAKE BABIES!)

I happily potted the jade thing in a nudie mug that I bought at the flea market over 10 years ago and have always been too afraid to drink from so it’s been sorely underused all this time. So of course he’s aptly named Ted Nudegent.

Chooch planted his in some old coconut thing that I drank booze from at some Italian festival in West Virginia one year. (Ha-ha, just kidding. Henry planted it.)

I spent all week pining for more succulents. And then, Henry took me to buy more on his birthday! I guess Henry enjoys garden-y stuff. I asked him if he used to have a garden and he said yes and then I asked him if we could talk about it and he quickly snapped NO because he’s always trying to keep secrets. So we bought some new plants at Home Depot, where an older man came up behind me, said “Excuse me, dear” and then PUT HIS HANDS ON MY WAIST AS HE SQUEEZED PAST ME and I seriously couldn’t stop reliving the moment for the rest of the weekend because it WAS SO INTIMATE and I really dislike human contact. Henry witnessed this whole horrifying scene and actually laughed out loud in public, which he hardly ever does in private, even. And then I was all excited because we were listening to Pet Shop Boys in the car on the way there and then it was also playing at Home Depot! I couldn’t believe it and was just about to mention something about kismet or serendipity to Henry when I realized that Pet Shop Boys was actually PLAYING LOUDLY FROM INSIDE MY PURSE because Spotify had switched over from the car stereo to my phone.

Maybe that older man was actually trying to dance with me?!

Ugh.

After Home Depot, we went to an actual nursery which was a HUGE LET DOWN and I made lots of angry and disappointed noises every time we walked past an employee so that they would know how worthless their dumb plant store was. Thank god we wrapped up Saturday’s succulent spree with a stop at Goodwill, where I found some 1970s-esque mugs and then lost Chooch but he was just in the bathroom so it’s OK.

I named this guy Phil Angie because he looks like alien finger (a/k/a phalanges, WATCH AN EPISODE OF FRIENDS NOW AND THEN, WHY DON’T YOU).

Haunting.

This one is Chooch’s, obviously.

The mug on the right is from Taormina, Sicily and had been collecting dust on my shelf for the last 15 years. WELL, NOT NO MO’.

Some of my new adopted friends are still Jane and John Does. These things take time. I don’t give hasty names.

These photos are horrible. Don’t worry—I plan on doing a legit photo shoot with my real camera. I need to make hats for them first.

Not really a secret, but this one is my favorite so naturally I have to call him Bae. (Also, I had to explain to Glenn this morning what Bae means and he looked sorry that he asked.)

Panne, for pannekoek, because he’s obviously Dutch.

And then yesterday, Henry took me to another Home Depot while Chooch was at piano lessons and I got even more ahhhh can you stand it?! When we picked Chooch up, I was like, “GUESS WHAT I GOT?! MORE SUCCULENTS!” and he made a really disappointed, tired sigh. But whatev—Pearl and Aloysius are such babes!

I have even more than this windowsill illustrates now. Last night, I bought RARE SUCCULENT SEEDS from some Etsy seller in CYPRUS! Wendy said that I probably invited some deadly disease into the States but who cares once my bunny-eared succulents sprout!

This morning, I was still getting ready for work when Chooch started to leave for school.

“Say goodbye to the succulents!” I shouted down the stairs.

“No!” he shouted back with disgust. But then I heard him quietly sigh, “Goodbye, succulents. Goodbye, Bae.”

I couldn’t wait to come to work and share pictures of my new acquisitions with everyone! Glenn was thoroughly impressed and has added “I hope your succulents die” to his malicious repertoire of retorts.

I couldn’t even make it through our weekly meeting today without blurting out that I’m collecting plants now. This conversation carried on as we all walked back to our desks after the meeting and I told Todd that some people even pack a bunch of succulents into a picture frame and hang them on the wall.

“Wait…so they just like grow, in the air?” Todd questioned me in a tone that me feel like I was being accused of something.

“No, but there are plants that grow in just air! They’re called—-” and here I paused to curtail a giddy laugh “—tillandsias! I learned that because I was watching YouTube videos yesterday.”

I sat back down at my desk (because during this conversation, I was excitedly pacing back and forth between Todd’s and Glenn’s desk) and then said, “Wow. Hearing myself say that just now made me realize I don’t know who I am anymore.”

***

I will eventually get another pet someday, I swear. But right now, it’s comforting to know that if I try to hug most of my succulents, I’ll get injured. Just like when I would hug Marcy.

Henry and I were pretending like we’ve been involved in Chooch’s schoolwork this whole time by rifling through all of the end of the year bullshit he brought home. One of those things was a composition book that he apparently had to write in regularly. I read this one entry from 4/9 and declared that this was going on my blog so now Chooch is hounding me for payment.      

Oh and let’s not forget about that time Chooch went to a funeral. 

(He’s never been to a funeral, btw.)

One of the things I vowed to do for Henry’s birthday was….let him nap. Ugh it pains me to even just TYPE that! And of course that weirdo got up at 6am on his own accord to do LAUNDRY and WASH THE CAR. On his BIRTHDAY. What a goddamn freak. So, nap #1 went down around 9:30am (after he made us all breakfast, haha).

He woke up long enough to stretch out and then fell asleep while I was making him watch KymNonstop videos on YouTube. (What, she makes a kale and plantain salad that I wanted him to see!)

#3 went down around noon, and I was trying to take a picture of it but he was snoring SO LOUD and that is a sound that I just can’t stand even though I snore too it just sounds worse when Henry does it. So I snapped and screamed “OMG IF YOU’RE GOING TO SNORE THEN GO UPSTAIRS I DON’T CARE IF IT’S YOUR BDAY YOU’RE DISGUSTING.”

So I drew a picture and I promise this is what he looked like. 

#4 happened after dinner. He had TWO BEERS and then walked a few blocks so he was really tuckered out. That’s what happens when you’re a senior citizen. 

I think it’s safe to post this now. It’s after 10pm so if he falls asleep again, it’s probably going to be more than a nap. Um, hopefully not death though. 

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.

For today’s Henry Is A Hero post, I am posting an old tale from Henry’s LiveJournal, “mehoover.” This post is in “his own words” and recounts the time he was a Real American Parking Lot Heroe [sic]. I think it is really important to shed light on these old stories so that Henry’s heroism can be experienced by new generations. (Ruby was my LiveJournal nickname in case you didn’t know.)

April 16, 2007

oh shit u guyz where to even start!!!!!!!!!!! u will never ever beleive what happened yesterday. I can bearly beleive it my self.

ok so me and RUBY and that baby was in the car. we was drivin thru TARGET parking lot cuz i be doing all my shoppin there. (like underroos. i do not ware tightie whities no more now i ware boxer breefs in difrint colors!) now u have to kno that it was rilly WINDY and RAINY. real fishermen weather , right?

SO we are drivin real slow so I can find a rilly good space because I am the man of the car and that is we men do, when SUDDENLY a rogue (ruBY taught me that word!) shopping car come barrling out of NOWHERE and it was like everythin went in slo motion as it banged into a parked car!!!! THEN, and this is when it gets rilly serious, it cut in front of the car that was going in the opposite direction from us!!!!!!!!

that car had to STOP so it would not drive into the cart, and then the cart started to come toward us!!!!!!! RUby was screaming “help us help!” because shopping carts are dangerous like deer!

what happens next will make you all think diffrintly about me i promise u that.

i looked at rUby and snarled, “I WILL BE RITE BACK” as i threwed the car into PARK. THEN!!!!! Then I LEAPED out of teh car into the cold hard rain and I grabbed the cart like i was lassoing a BULL!!!!!!!!!! then I shoved the cart into the cart Return thing and looked around to see if anyone was clapping or crying like chicks do when tehy is watching a movie and the big powerfull man saves the day. I could not tell but ONLY because all the cars had rain drops on the windows.

So i got back in the car and that lady who could not go anywhere was now able to leave since there was no dangerous shopping cart in her way no more and as she drived past us, i noticed she was on her cellie and you know what i bet she was telling whoever she talked to about ME and how I rescued her and saved her LIFE!!!!!!

I mean, even ruBY was like “hay u are the shit for real now lets forget im a veggie eater and give me your slab of bacon, big guy!” but rilly she did not say that cuz she was to busy laffin at me for being a HEROE. i am not stupid i know that this is how some people react when they is jelis.

i just could not wait to go home and tell my mommie about it.

maybe tommorrow i will drawr you all a picture of how it happened!!! yes or no?
***************
ok guyz i tryed real hard to draw you a diegram of what happened at TarGet. it was hard cuz i am not to good at drawring.

now u can see there i am standing big and proud, thrusting out my arms to rassle with the shopping kart and the lady in the red car, she could not go no where until i freed her from the karts intrapment. so u can see her with hearts popping out of her face cuz she is so lovey about me now for saving her.

and then you can see ruBy sitting on her lard ass in are car. she did not lift a finger as usual. i did not drawr the baby cuz he just looks like a blob anyway.

and then lookie at what ruBY made me to celebrayt!

i was very touched when she gave it to me. i think i am gonna get it made itnto a patch and so it onto my jean jacket.

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.

After the dinky Memorial Day parade last Monday, Janna came over and we all took a joyful trip out to Living Treasures in Donegal. Janna strode through my front door with the remnants of her lunch, which included A DRINK.

“WHAT’S IN THAT?” I demanded to know.

“Iced tea,” she answered in that indignant tone she’s been getting with me all of a sudden.

“WELL, YOU CAN’T TAKE THAT IN MY CAR,” I said calmly, I have no idea what would give you any idea that I screamed it.

So then a few minutes later, we were all ready to go after Henry yelled at us repeatedly because that’s all he does these days is yell yell yell. As I was putting on my seat   belt, I noticed that Janna was in the backseat with that damn drink!!

THAT BITCH!

“JANNA WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THAT DRINK!?” I asked without the slightest hint of hysterics.

“It’s nearly empty!” she whined, and then she SHOOK IT and droplet of ICED TEA EJACULATED ONTO THE BACKS OF MY CAR SEATS!

And here we all thought CHOOCH would be the first to spill!

We brought Spoon with us for #spoonselfies. Henry was #thrilled. My #LenoChin is out in full force. #hashtag

So, Living Treasures is better than a petting farm but not as great as a zoo. And it always seems like a WOW SO GREAT idea to go until I remember how far of a drive it is (like 90 minutes or something equally as absurd which is basically anything more than 20 minutes). They have goats and sheep and ducks but also VARIOUS MONKEYS and LIONS and OTHER THINGS. Other things like BEARS! So it’s pretty cool, but I always get so sad seeing those guys behind glass.

I’m one of those bleeding heart PETA motherfuckers.

We had some “just pay half” coupon that was good for four people so Janna was our charity case for the day. I wanted to make her pay us back, but Henry was like, “Erin.”

Once Janna passed the Robitussin pat-down, we were allowed to enter the zoo-thing.

Henry bought Chooch a big bag of feed, and 99% of it wound up on the ground each time he would attempt to feed a thing. Their snouts would get within three feet and Chooch would scream, drop the feed, and pull away his hand. Henry was like YOU’RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT!

But I kind of had to get behind Chooch on this one because I am TERRIFIED of feeding animals at petting zoos ever since that time a camel deep-throated my hand back in 2007.

YOU DON’T FOOL ME.

There’s a reason Chooch has been calling camels “cannibals” since he was a baby, you guys. That’s not just a cute mispronunciation!

Here’s Chooch, still in a good mood.

Here’s Chooch approximately 5 minutes later, decidedly NOT in a good mood anymore. That kid switches as fast as I do and it’s kind of remarkable. (Or annoying. That too.)

Chooch and Janna had an argument about the peacock and now I can’t remember what it was but HE SURE TOLD HER. He gets so sassy when he’s overheated and tired.

OK I just asked Chooch, whose memory is much more plump and nubile than mine, and he said it was because we were petting a kangaroo, and he commented that it was so soft. Then Janna petted it and said it was soft, so Chooch flipped out and yelled, “I KNOW, JANNA. I ALREADY SAID THAT.” So then Janna cried, “I was just AGREEING with you, CHOOCH!” We are like a traveling troupe of hostile situations.

I have no idea where he gets this.

(The peacock keeps coming to mind because I think I had an argument with Chooch over the peacock. We all had our turn with Chooch’s temper that day.)

Another one of these little fuckers bit my side while I was taking this picture.

OMG IT’S DOGE! MOMMY TAKE MY PICTURE WITH DOGE! WHAT DOES DOGE EAT?!

Babies.

There was a white buffalo there and as we all started to walk away after the requisite 19 seconds of visually admiring the [insert living treasure], I noticed that Henry was hanging back.

“Wow, Henry is really into the buffalo,” I thought to myself. Then I noticed that he was TAKING A PICTURE OF IT and seriously, how often does Henry care enough about turning a moment into a keepsake? Like, rarely ever. But then I put two and two together because I’m great at basic mathematics and I realized that it was a Ted Nugent reference and he was posting it on Instagram for Alyson because she loves to pump him for info regarding The One Time he went to see Ted Nugent in THE NINTEEN EIGHTIES and allegedly knocked over some broad in a wheelchair like a hungry llama bum-rushing the Living Treasures zookeeper.

The only way to exit Living Treasures is through the gift shop. Well played< LivTreas. Janna had to go to the bathroom of course and asked us where it was so I pointed at some random, clearly off-limits staircase and she was like, “OK thanks” and started to walk up them but then Chooch and I started laughing so she figured out that it was A TRAP. Then Henry played the Nice Guy card and showed her where the bathroom really was while Chooch threw a myriad of fits because we wouldn’t buy him all the stupid educational shit that he wanted. God! Go learn with your own money!

I think the girls behind the counter thought we were shoplifting because the three of us just kind of roamed around aimlessly while waiting for Janna and I don’t know how to “look casual.” I always accidentally look like I’m suffering through meth ticks, and I repetitively pull my phone out of my purse and then put it back, pull it out, put it back, TRY TO LOOK CASUAL, whistle, ACCIDENTAL EYE CONTACT WITH CASHIER, kick imaginary rocks, FURTIVE GLANCES ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. I’m a shop owner’s nightmare.

“LET’S WAIT FOR HER OUTSIDE,” I thought I said in a normal voice but it sounded like it came out of a tin can, so who knows.

Much sad. Very pout.

Finally, Janna emerged from the gift shop, freshly ‘Tussed and carrying a cold bottle of water. Chooch flipped out because why was she able to buy water but we wouldn’t buy him water? IT’S  BECAUSE WE ARE TRYING TO KILL HIM SLOWLY! Henry calmly explained that it was because we were going to stop and get lunch and then as we walked across the parking lot, Chooch very seriously asked if we were almost home.

BOY, YOU DRUNK BOY. YOU DRUNK. BOY.

DRUNK.

Luckily for Chooch, we only drove a few miles down the road before stopping at Tall Cedars which I knew immediately was The One. I know it’s kind of out-of-character, since I was born choking on a silver spoon, but I love me some trashy roadside food-slingers. And this was just that. Bar on one side, “dining room” on the other, parking lot full of pick-up trucks.

“I am going to eat the FUCK out of a grilled cheese,” I said, fists pumped.

No one got the daily special (I know you’re shocked that I didn’t eat that shit up) but I couldn’t wait to ask about the deserts! Surprisingly, “potato/potatoes” is spelled correctly.

Chooch was still in a sour mood when we got there, especially because he wanted to sit by me but Henry and Janna were like, “Ew we don’t want to sit together” so Henry made Chooch move and he was like WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LET ME BE MY OWN PERSON.

Yeah Henry. Stop making it all about you!

Oh my god, it took our food so long to get there and I think it’s because HENRY stopped our waitress as she was running herself ragged to and fro the kitchen so that he could add on an order of wings, and I’m not lying when I say that it really changed the tone. She went from calling us all hon and basically doting on us to thinking we were entitle CITY FOLK so thanks a lot Henry. Acting like he deserves wings because it’s Memorial Day or something.

Chooch’s Holy Burger.

Actually not pouting, just making faces.

Chooch’s hair was all greasy from the profuse sweating he had been doing all day, so it was super pliable. Every time he would rub his hands through it (which he does often since he is so stressed), he came out the other end looking like a different 1980s New Wave singer every time. It was fantastically entertaining. And we needed all the entertaining we could get since it was taking SO LONG for our basic grilled cheese and burgers to be served.

Janna was fighting with her roommate and that seemed to cheer up Chooch because he loves conflict.

And then I got blueberry pie, Janna got lemon meringue (because that’s what Chooch told her to get), and Chooch got red velvet cake. Henry got NOTHING because he had already treated himself for the month with his AUXILIARY WING ORDER. Hope it was worth it, Memorial Day Hank.

Then it was time to pay and Henry told Janna to just give him $4 for her part of the check, which he was going to use for the tip, but then she only gave him THREE DOLLARS because the ‘Tussin is rotting her brain, you guys.

On the way home, we drove past this junk yard which I remembered from the very first time Henry and I went to Living Treasures in 2004 (a/k/a That Time I Made People Match Up Poop With The Animal It Came From* on LiveJournal) and he voluntarily told me that he has a fear of FALLING FROM THE SKY ON TO METAL.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT, EVER. Now he barely ever offers up self-fact nuggets and I can’t imagine why.

Somewhere along the way, the cherry cider episode happened, too.

And that was our Memorial Day. It was OK. Better than being at work, I guess.

*(I was even more obnoxious back then, if you can believe it. The winner of that contest (my pal Kevin!) got a t-shirt with my face on it, you guys. I’m an asshole.)

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.