The New Restaurant, a Phil Story


Whenever I’ve gone a few days without any kind of significant posting, it feels all strange and awkward to sit down to write something, like I’ve got to reintroduce myself to the Internet, like somehow over the course of three days we have all completely and totally forgotten that we’re the best of pals.

Anyway, I appreciate your patience while we have been moving into our new house, especially those of you who have emailed me in the last two or three days (ok, months) and are waiting for a response.

And now, a Phil Story

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Hey, Phil, before we go run our errands, we should get some breakfast. What’s that? Yes, why don’t we try that restaurant we’ve never been to, that would be nice!

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I’m excited to be here, too, Phil! Let’s order an appetizer!

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I, too, think ribs were an excellent choice! Let’s bite them, your enthusiasm for ribs and fries is quite contagious!

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Okay, well, not the greatest start for a new restaurant, I know. There’s just nothing as sad as a terrible plate of ribs, right? But please, put that lower lip away, you still have your delicious breakfast coming!

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There’s that somewhat frightening smile I know and love! Country fried steak and eggs benedict, that seems right up your gross alley! Well, don’t let me keep you and your thumbs, go ahead and eat!

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What? It was exactly as horrible as you’d expect two horrible things to taste when combined together? I can’t say I’m shocked, but your obvious crushing disappointment makes me wish the waitress would come by more than once every hour and a half so I can tell her how her restaurant’s poor service and half-assedly cooked food makes you such a sad panda. I must say, my food also tasted like 17 different varieties of smashed cat asshole on a tortilla! Let’s just go finish our errands and head home to recover and contemplate how such a place, with a menu full of interesting and delicious-looking food, could turn out to be such a steaming pile of poo in both service and taste!

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Why are you making that face at me? You’re always making that face at me. Are you still upset about your horrible breakfast? I know. I’m going to be scarred for a long time, too. No? That’s not it? Oh. It’s because I told you that we didn’t need a basket and now you have to carry a can of peaches, a packet of instant mashed potatoes and a pork loin in your actual HANDS. And the pork loin is cold, you say? How uncomfortable for you, Nancy. What can I do to make it up to you?

I’ll sing you a song, ok?

No?

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Shamrock Shake? All right! I still think the song was pretty awesome, though.

I’ll autograph one for you.


I’m writing a book – Life Among the Boxes, by Temerity Jane Goodall.

March 7, dishtowels


“No, they go here, like this.”

“Why?”

“In case you need one, DUH.”

“Shouldn’t they go right there?”

“Oh… that makes more sense.”

“Haha.”

“Don’t laugh at me! I didn’t even think of that and now I feel FAT and DUMB!”

“Aw… you’re not fat.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I’m sorry, I had an opening and I had to go for it!”

“I have an opening, and you’re not going for it any time soon.”

Kate


As you know, Internet, Phil and I are pretty involved with packing and moving at the moment, so I’m kind of copping out on the blogging a little bit for the next couple of days. We plan to be set up in the new house with internet by Sunday, so until then, I am just going to piggyback on crap that other people have said. Today, that other people would be my sister.

Right around the time I got engaged, I found out that my sister had been reading this site, in secret, for almost a year. While she was not thrilled to finally be found out, she did enjoy the fact that the pressure of keeping her secret was off, so that not only could she now talk to me about what she read, but she could also comment here as well.

So, she’s been commenting here and there for a while now, under the deep cover code name of “sister.” While I think all of my commenters are interesting and intelligent and hilarious, I did want to draw your attention today specifically to her contributions over the last eight or so months.

I know not everyone has time to read, comment, then come back and read other comments, but I feel you would be doing yourself a favor to keep an eye out for comments placed under the name “sister.”

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In defense of herself, on being discovered, and the potential butt-bow-bridesmaid-dress punishment:

whatev, INTERNET. why don’t YOU ALL wear a big stupid bow on YOUR non-existant asses.
if she was your sister, you’d want to read it too. she’s not EVEN your sister and you all read it. now how fair is that?

also i made her pee her pants laughing when she was twelve by pretending to shake a dice through my head. PEED. HER. PANTS.
i’m here to stay, bitches! and there will be no giant bow.

On Phil’s generous gift of Latina Magazine and our shared genetic shortcomings:

maybe phil knows that Latina has articles about how to grow a classic Latina booty. and he’s hinting.

ps- if this is the case, forward them on over.

Her own contributions to the WINCEABLE! grammar post:

HA! Walla. People are dumb. You would LOVE, and by love I mean despise, the people I work with. One lady used the phrase “he engulged himself on that pizza” and she didn’t even BLINK. She was also not aware of the fact that cats and dogs have lungs though, so maybe bad example.

I’m… ah… not actually sure what this had to do with anything, but here you go:

So you know in Old School where Jeremy Piven’s the dean and they’re all like “Oh yeah, Cheee-eeeese.” Chuck sleep farted last night to the tune of “cheeee-eeese” and I almost peed. But it doesn’t beat the time he wake farted and it sounded EXACTLY like Peter Griffin’s laugh. Then we both almost peed.

Totally getting where I’m coming from about Marc Summers:

my TV boyfriend is chuck woolery cause one time i had a dream that i made out with him.
could be worse.

Reacting to Brinkley’s acting talent:

OH MY GOD IT TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO PEE

Acknowledging the great divide between us:

you know if there wasn’t undeniable proof that we are sisters i would SWEAR it couldn’t be true.
AGAINST the legalization of marijuana in arizona for recreational use?
BUTTHEAD.

Rectifying the forgotten Smidgens/lost hair flower situations:

DON’T BE MAD! I FORGOT THE SMIDGENS! sorry. i will send them out… tomorrow? monday at the LATEST. most likely tomorrow. text me your address again. i never actually write it down anywhere unless i am at the post office mailing you something and then i call and say GIVE ME YOUR ADDRESS I AM AT THE POST OFFICE TRYING TO MAIL YOU SOMETHING. i will also try to get to outrageous for a new cute flower clip (CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LOST IT) before the post office closes so i can send that too. and maybe a picture on my butt because we both know you are missing it hardcore by now.
also chuck’s mom is getting married in VEGAS and that might alter my plans to come see youse guys. i’m not sure yet. ANYWAY. (_|_) YOU’VE BEEN MOONED VIA YER BLOG.

Finding a loophole in the “no prison pen pals” rule:

so you’re telling me that if i got locked up overseas phil wouldn’t let us correspond?? way to be a brother-in-law, phil.

Now, when Kate finds out that I’ve dedicated an entire post to her, she is going to be thrilled to death, because the only person that finds Kate funnier than I find Kate is Kate herself. If you look back over the category dedicated to me and my two siblings, you can see more examples, as well.

In the interests of both my need for content and Kate’s need to talk about all things Kate, please leave any questions or topics you may like to see Kate discuss in the comments, as you will make her day and potential future days as well as shift the burden of interaction onto someone who isn’t me.

Possible topics to discuss with Kate:

- Her butt and her own fascination with it
- Her one eyed albino gecko named Burt Reynolds
- Growing up in the shadow of such epic awesomeness

March 2, Indian giver


“When we move into the new house, can I put my hoodies in the closet by the front door?”

“Yeah.”

“All of them?”

“Baby, you can do whatever you want.”

“Can I get that on tape?”

“No. No, you cannot.”

^*****^

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The First Supper

Bacon Chocolate: A Phil Story


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What is this? A new and potentially delicious snack to try?

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Hm, who should I choose to share this experience with me?

Oh, I know!

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Brinkley makes the same face when we offer HIM a bacon snack, too!

(minus opposable thumbs)

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Go on, Phil! Have a bite!

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Well? What do you think?

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Aw, bummer.

Sighing & Eyerolling Classes for the Advanced Student next month


Hi, everyone!

Please considering signing up for our upcoming couples workshop:

Expressing Annoyance Through Action: Lessons Learned from the Dog Whisperer

For those who can’t see flash video through feed readers or at work: Sorry, I’m an asshole who has posted flash stuff two days in a row.